The back room smelled of old wood and the cold that still clung to Gilbert's coat.
He did not sit down. He just laid the photographs out in two rows with Layla's originals on top and the satellite prints underneath. He kept his hand flat on the table like he was holding something down that might get away.
Nate pulled the overhead light lower until the chain rattled. The leather of his jacket creaked when he leaned in.
"So," Gilbert said. His voice had grit in it from three weeks of no sleep. "Satellite cross-reference and registry traces. These are the shells Alex flagged but could not prove were connected."
He tapped the first pair of photographs hard. "Parking structure on Clover. Layla shot it from the southeast corner." His finger moved to the satellite image beneath it with a tremor that was not quite steady. "Registered address for Blackwood Logistics Annex. Dormant since 2020. Never dissolved. Still on paper and still there."
