Adventure of Dallas Fontaine 2

Rain hammers the alley as Dallas Fontaine and Elena Vane sprint past brick walls slick with runoff. Behind them, Dayton’s front door gives way to another kick, and the sedan’s headlights sweep the street like searching blades.

Dallas spots the waterfront relay office ahead, its windows dark except for a slit of yellow at the side entrance. The route log in his coat feels suddenly heavier, like the whole case is trying to drag him under.

A second set of footsteps slaps the puddles behind them. The sedan swings wide at the curb, and a man in a clean collar steps out under the rain, phone raised toward the study and the alley both.

Dallas closes on the relay office door, where a fresh tracking stamp is taped to the frame, proof this stop is wired into the same chain that has been stalking every move. Whoever controls the relay can expose the higher official, or bury the trail for good.

Dallas catches the tracking stamp at the edge of the frame and tears it free in one hard motion. Rainwater and paper pulp smear across his knuckles as the mark comes away clean.

He drives the relay office door inward and slams it shut behind them. The latch bites, the rain noise drops to a thin rattle, and the alley is cut off in a single breath.

Elena pivots with her Beretta up, covering the seam while Dallas shoves the deadbolt across. A strip of wet paper falls from his fist and sticks to the floorboards.

His voice comes from outside, close to the glass, but the door holds. Somewhere deeper in the building, a console clicks once, then goes quiet.

The stamp was only the tag, the relay itself is the target.

Through the rain-streaked pane, the clean-collar man turns away from the door and reaches for his phone again, while Elena squares her shoulders toward the dark hallway inside.

Lose the clean-collar tail