The black luxury sedan slid down a broad avenue in Milwaukee with a polished shine that reflected storefront glass and passing lights, carrying itself with the quiet authority of something that belonged exactly where it was. It held that confidence for one last second before the engine jerked forward, coughed sharply, and died beside the curb as if the moment itself had decided to betray its owner.
The engine shuddered once more before falling completely silent, while the dashboard flickered weakly and then went dark without explanation. Around it, the city kept moving as if nothing had happened, yet the space around the stalled car shifted in tone as curiosity replaced indifference almost immediately.
Raymond Pike stood beside the driver’s door in a sharply tailored pale gray suit that looked far too refined for the rough edges of the street and the impatience of morning traffic. He was the kind of man whose face appeared on conference screens and financial panels, recognized by strangers who associated him with success even if they could not recall his name.