PREVIEW

... grand office of William Yates was drenched in the low, amber glow of the city skyline. He stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping from a glass of aged scotch, his expression composed—until the call came.

His private line buzzed. Only one person ever called it.

He picked up.

"Speak."

A trembling voice responded.

"S-Sir... it's Dubai. Factory Node-07 has been... compromised."

His eyes narrowed.

"Define 'compromised.'"

There ...

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