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My body went cold. “Where did you get that?”

“Front gate.”

“When?”

“Four minutes ago.”

“Who delivered it?”

“Nobody.”

My gaze snapped toward the gates. “Camera.”

“Checked.”

“And?”

Knox’s jaw tightened. “Nothing.”

Of course. I took the envelope. Too light. Paper. Nothing else.

“Rafe.”

He was already moving toward us. “What happened?”

I didn’t answer, just opened the envelope and a photograph slid into my hand. For a second, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. Concrete floor. Steel shelving. Black storage cases. Then recognition hit.

No.

My fingers tightened around the photograph.

The secondary site.

The archive cases sat exactly where Knox had placed them.

Not hours ago.

Not yesterday.

Tonight.

I knew because Falcon was in the photograph. His back to the camera. One case still in his hands. Mid-move. The photograph had been taken while they were unloading. My heartbeat slowed. Not fear… something worse. Understanding trying to form around something impossible.

Rafe took the photograph from me. Went still. “When?”

“Less than an hour ago,” Knox said.

Rafe looked at him. “How the fuck⁠—”

“I don’t know.”

“Who knew the location?”

“Us.”

Knox looked at me. “Five.”

“Names.”