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“Later,” Angel said. Ghost turned, and she smiled innocently at him. Jesus Christ. He'd created a monster, and he had to admit that he liked it.

Monster's voice came through the radio. “Move.” They got out of the SUV, and Ghost stayed on Angel's left. Hammer took her right. Bishop stayed behind them.

Monster unlocked the unit and rolled the metal door upward. It was full of boxes, furniture, and an old motorcycle. In the corner of the unit, sat a few filing cabinets. Monster stepped inside. “Spread out.”

Angel looked toward the motorcycle. “That's Nomad Knights.”

Ghost saw the faded emblem on the tank. “How old is it?”

“Very,” Bishop said as he walked toward it. “I believe that it belonged to Razor's father.”

Angel moved toward the filing cabinets, and Ghost caught her. “Wait.” He checked them first. There were no wires or obvious traps. “Okay.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Dad.”

Ghost stared at her. “Don't ever call me that again.”

Jackhammer laughed, and Angel opened the first drawer. It was empty, and so was the second drawer. She pulled open the third drawer and found files. She pulled them out and started looking them over.

Monster joined them. “Are there names?”

“Yeah, of companies,” she said.

Bishop looked over her shoulder. “Shell corporations.”

“How useful is this?” Hammer asked.

“Very,” Bishop said. Ghost checked the second cabinet and found more records.

Then Jackhammer called from the back. “Found something.” They moved toward him. He pointed to a steel lockbox that sat beneath a workbench. Monster used Razor's second key, and it opened. Inside were three notebooks, a flash drive, photographs, and a sealed envelope. Angel picked it up. Her name was written across it, and she froze. Ghost looked over her shoulder.

ANGELINA SANCHEZ

“Don't open it,” Bishop said. Everyone turned to look at him. He'd gone pale.

Angel stared at him. “You know what this is?”

“No,” he said.

“You look like you do,” she challenged.

“I don't,” he said. Ghost watched him, and he could tell that Bishop was telling the truth. Angel opened the envelope, and inside was a photograph of Elena, Viper, Bishop, and Angel. She was maybe five and was sitting on Viper's shoulders. Her mother was beside him, and Bishop stood several feet away. On the back, someone had written:

EVERYTHING STARTED WITH HER.

Angel stared. “What does that mean?”

A voice behind them answered. “It means your mother should've kept her mouth shut.” Ghost turned to find Judge Harrison Cole standing at the entrance of the container. His gun was pointed directly at Angel. Ghost moved in front of her and so did Jackhammer. Cole laughed. “Predictable.”

Monster's men raised their weapons, but Cole didn't seem worried, and that bothered Ghost. “Drop it,” Monster ordered.

Cole smiled. “No.”

“You're outnumbered,” Monster said.

“Am I?” he asked. Movement appeared behind him, and Ghost saw them—about eight armed men. Cole stepped inside, and the light hit him. He was an older man—maybe in his seventies. He wore an expensive coat. His hair was silver, and he looked more like somebody's grandfather than the man responsible for decades of murder. Ghost had learned long ago that monsters rarely looked the part.

“Samuel,” Cole said.