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... energy. Commuters rushed past with briefcases, tourists fumbled with maps, and children darted between harried parents. Arthur had taken three steps away from the brick barrier when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"Arthur! Arthur! Over here!"

He turned to see Aurora Thatcher weaving through the crowd. Her crisp navy pantsuit and authoritative stride marked her immediately as government—MI6 specifically, though ordinary passersby wouldn’t recognize the subtle signs.

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