A beat of silence. I can hear the faint rumble of traffic somewhere above us. Gur breathing. Machines complaining.
He sighs like I’m an inconvenience he can’t avoid. “What are you offering?”
I don’t hesitate. Hesitation is weakness in rooms like this.
“Criminal intel,” I say. “Names. Routes. Stashes. Numbers. The kind of information you can parade in front of your superiors and call it ‘progress.’”
His eyes sharpen at that. His boredom drops away a fraction, replaced by hunger.
“On who?” he asks too quickly.
I smile, just a hint. “On rivals. Not on you.”
He laughs once, short. “That’s generous.”
“It’s practical,” I correct. “I’m not here to burn your house down. I’m here to borrow a key and keep Morazin breathing long enough to testify.”
The marshal studies me, weighing the bribe against the risk. He’s corrupt, but not suicidal. Those are different flavors.
Finally, he says, “Temporary custody is possible. Under Coalition escort. Neutral paperwork. Enough to look clean.”
“Good,” I say.
“But,” he adds, raising a finger, “I want you personally involved.”
I feel the shift immediately. Like a click in a trap mechanism.
“Go on,” I say, voice still mild.
He leans forward, eyes glinting. “You personally deliver Morazin to a neutral transfer point. No Kaijen goons doing it for you. No remote handoffs. You.”
My scales prick.
Jordan’s voice echoes in my head from earlier—shark offering you a life vest.
This is that.
I keep my face calm. “Why would you require that?”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Chain of custody. I want to know you’re not swapping him for a decoy. You bring him, I sign, we’re done.”
One of his guards shifts, pretending it’s casual.
My gut says: setup.
Kill, snatch, or both. A marshal’s demand forpersonal deliveryis the kind of request that comes with extra graves.
I breathe in. The air tastes like dust and menthol.
“Fine,” I say.
The marshal’s smile widens. “Good. Transfer point is a transit hub on the industrial ring. Public enough that nobody starts a firefight. Neutral enough that my people can claim jurisdiction.”
Public enough that there are witnesses.
Neutral enough that there are blind spots.
I nod once. “Send coordinates.”
