Page 101 of Shadowed Sins: Nitro

Sixty-eight and climbing.

twenty-four

Jax

Numbers blur together as my keys spin between restless fingers. Shipping routes, financial data, facial recognition—information that should click into patterns just fragments into noise.

My fingers drum against my thigh—4-4-2, 4-4-2. The rhythm that usually centers me just reminds me how fucking scattered I am.

"Intelligence suggests Gideon's racing events are covering major trafficking operations." Kade points to satellite imagery of Long Beach port. "This weekend's event could be our only shot at Roman intel. Criminal networks scatter when operations get blown."

Cole leans forward. "Financial analysis shows unusual money flows during racing schedules. Mira's intelligence confirmed Rotterdam connections match Roman's last contacts."

Mira's controlled voice from yesterday. Professional. Perfect. Walking away after I'd promised to tear down her walls.

"Nitro." Asher's voice cuts through my spiral. "You're coordinating logistics for infiltration. Racing event provides perfect cover, but timing windows are narrow."

Right. Mission focus. Roman might be alive, and this could be our only lead.

"Infiltration through racing crowds, maintain cover while documenting trafficking coordination." My voice sounds steady. Practiced. "Map organizational structure, confirm network connections."

Kade's blue eyes assess me. "Gambling triggers under control?"

Roman used to handle the trigger management. The man who saved me from myself.

"Multiple variables converging while maintaining operational security and ensuring infiltration timing doesn't create vulnerability windows where Gideon's security could identify surveillance patterns and if weather delays racing then—"

"Breathe." Asher cuts through my rambling. "You're spiraling."

Shit. They can see it.

I force my keys into my pocket. Hands keep drumming—4-4-2, 4-4-2.

Kade pulls up racing surveillance feeds. "Split-second timing required. Security rotations, crowd patterns, Gideon's schedule. Roman's trail depends on this intelligence."

The data streams make my chest tight. Guard positions, schedules, traffic patterns—factors shifting based on weather, personnel, delays.

Odds Gideon increases security? Event delays? Weather cancellations?

The familiar itch crawls through my brain. Calculate probabilities on Roman's rescue. Control the uncontrollable through betting odds.

My phone sits in my pocket like a weapon. Racing event attendance. Weather patterns. Turn this mission into calculated risks.

The conference room shrinks. Everyone's watching me process tactical data, but all I hear is Roman's voice from our last call. Casual, confident. "Back in a week."

Six months ago.

My hands start trembling. I shove them under the table before reaching for my phone becomes automatic.

Cole's voice sharpens. "Talk through the infiltration sequence."

"Primary entry through main gates, maintain racing enthusiast cover." The logistics click into place despite the chaos in my head. "Secondary extraction uses emergency exits if Gideon's security identifies surveillance."

Concrete numbers. Better than betting odds.

"Communications protocol?"

"Encrypted channels, frequency rotation every twenty minutes. Overwatch feeds real-time security assessments."