The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the hidden ventilation system and the occasional click of a pen or tap on a laptop. The long conference table at the center of the Genetics Emergency Operations Wing was covered with papers, monitors, and a holographic projector currently flickering with the 3D layout of the Apex Underground Labs.
Lucas sat rigidly in one of the steel chairs, his face pale under the dim lights. His golden eyes were sharp, but behind them was exhaustion. He had barely slept since returning from deep cover. The stitched wound on his arm throbbed beneath his rolled sleeve, but he didn't flinch.
Across from him sat Chief Argo—no longer in his beggar disguise. In his black tactical gear, he looked every inch the calculating commander that he was. Beside him were three senior officers, intelligence leads, and a few trusted members of the task force. The air was heavy with urgency.
Lucas placed a small sealed folder onto the table.
