Adventure of Tracy 1

The office door buckles inward again, then Thomas Olsen drives through the gap in a storm of splinters. He shoves the assailants back into the hall with raw shoulder and reach, then plants himself in the doorway like a wrecking post.

Marin snaps her pistol down to a guarded low ready, eyes flicking over Thomas, then the hall, then Tracy. The Guard stays braced at the barricade, still keyed to Tracy's hold, weapon lowered but ready to rise if she wills it.

A lean runner in the corridor peeks over Thomas's shoulder, clutching a torn courier satchel, face gray with alarm. He stops dead at the sight of Marin and Tracy in the same room, caught between retreat and a message too urgent to drop.

Tracy keeps her eyes on the courier and gives the order flatly. The runner freezes, then slowly unhooks the satchel and opens it for everyone to see.

Inside are folded port manifests, a sealed note, and a strip of paper marked with the same warning symbols Tracy saw in the buried facility. One symbol is circled in fresh red ink.

The courier swallows hard and points a shaking finger toward the corridor. Thomas tightens his stance in the doorway, reading the answer before it is spoken.

He does. The wax seal is cracked already, and the courier’s haste leaves a smear of blood across the fold. Whatever was in the satchel cost him a cut thumb, but Tracy gets the message.

Tracy takes the note and tilts it into the thin office light. The blood smear hides part of the seal, but the message is still there, sharp and hurried.

The courier’s thumb keeps twitching around the satchel strap while Marin watches Tracy read, her pistol lowered but ready.

The note names a dead drop at the salt works and repeats the warning symbols Tracy saw before. It says the facility is not sealed, only hidden, and that someone inside the barony is feeding locations outward.

Thomas shifts in the doorway, hearing enough to know the words matter. The guard’s stare stays locked on Tracy, waiting for a command that does not come.

Marin’s face hardens into that same cold authority again. She reaches for the manifests, already turning the note into a lead, while Thomas blocks the hall and expects Tracy to answer the next question.

Marin lays one manifest flat and taps the salt works line with two fingers, then turns the note so the warning symbols sit beside it. The match is ugly and deliberate.

Thomas glances at Tracy, then at Marin, as if deciding which secret matters more. The courier swallows hard and stops clutching the satchel strap.