It landed without a sound. Small. Hooded. When the hood fell back, Marcus felt his breath seize.
The name “Vixi Rafi” had been a ghost in the intelligence community for twelve years. No face, no real name, just a string of impossible operations that ended with a signature: two sharp, slanted letters— V.R. —scrawled on server logs or whispered in dead drops. vixi rafi hq
She tilted her head, almost sad. “You think I am Vixi Rafi?” It landed without a sound