"Until I find them, you aren't leaving my sight."
The command echoed in the cold hallway as we left the War Room. Cyprian didn't look back to see if I was following. He knew I was. I had nowhere else to go.
We took the private elevator up to the top floor—his sanctuary. The air here was different, thinner, scented with cedar and the ozone of high-end electronics.
"My office," he said, gesturing to a set of double doors. "We process the data first. Then we deal with the sleeping arrangements."
I walked in. It wasn't an office; it was a command center. A massive mahogany desk dominated the room, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the dark ocean crashing against the cliffs.
Cyprian sat down and plugged the USB drive I had given him into his primary termi
