The air in the tiny, windowless screening room was stale, smelling of ozone and old dust. Detective Elias Thorne sat before a flickering monitor, his finger hovering over the play button. On the desk lay a battered USB drive labeled simply: .
He looked at the file name again. URKK was the ICAO code for Krasnodar International Airport. 071 wasn't a sequence number; it was a year.
On the screen, the camera had turned around. It was no longer facing the road. It was facing the back seat. And there, sitting perfectly still in the shadows, was the flight suit, the cracked visor reflecting Elias’s own terrified face.