Adrian's POVWe came through the service road's exit and rejoined the main route at exactly 6:14 in the morning.Seven minutes inside Castellano's delivery window.It wasn't perfect, but it was close enough. In my world, close enough only mattered when the result spoke louder than the delay.The airstrip lay beneath a gray, colorless dawn, wrapped in the kind of silence that only arrived after a violent night. Not because nothing had happened, but because everything had already happened somewhere else. The aftermath lingered in the air while the world quietly moved on.Castellano's private cargo plane waited on the tarmac, its engines still silent beneath the glow of floodlights that had yet to be switched off. Four of his men stood near the perimeter fence, dressed in dark suits, their expressions unreadable. None of them shifted impatiently. None glanced at their watches. They simply waited.Professional men knew waiting was part of the job.Beyond them, another cargo aircraft taxied
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