Chapter 60 · The Raw Recording

"Let go of me, Dorian." His hand locked around my wrist before I could reach the broadcast console. "You don't get to decide what I do with my evidence. Not anymore."

His fingers tightened.

Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me that he still wore the command seal. That armed men stood between us and every exit. That he still had the legal power to throw me back in a cell.

"You want to plug that case into the rail network while the chip burns itself out?" he asked. "That's not evidence. That's a suicide note."

"Then stop standing in my way."

The armored train lurched beneath our boots. A metal panel slammed somewhere behind us. Sparks burst through the carriage as the tribunal convoy joined the line.

Ten minutes ago, we had a head start.

Now every second brought their guns closer.

Dorian dragged me away from the console. His shoulder hit mine. Heat pressed through his uniform, sharp and distracting, even with the alarms screaming overhead.

"The recording was cut," he said. "We prove that first. We don't dump a damaged file into every speaker on the Northern Rail.