Darren sat in the back of the Razor, the engine's low hum blending with the patter of rain on the windshield.
His fingers grazed the edge of the black card in his pocket, the silver lotus emblem catching the faint glow of the light.
Lotus Triad.
He'd spent an hour on his laptop last night, scouring darknet forums and encrypted archives for anything on them.
Only a precious little had turned up. Lotus Triad was a Romanian syndicate, secretive as hell, with roots in digital theft and activities.
They were thieves. Basically.
But they didn't just steal; they manipulated markets, laundered through shell nodes, and vanished whistleblowers who got too close. Rumors mentioned ties to ex-KGB tech brokers and a penchant for leaving no digital footprint.
Knowing all that, the card felt heavier than it should, like it carried more than just a name.
