A librarian tapped his shoulder. “Sir, the internet session ends in five minutes.”
The cops ransacked his apartment. They took his passports, his cash, his illegal Sako rifle, and his cousin’s old PlayStation 3 with a scratched copy of GTA 4 still in the tray. They even took his toaster, just to be dramatic. But they didn’t take his data.
His entire life—the jobs for Faustin, the Pegorino negotiations, the burner phone numbers, the GPS coordinates of every weapon stash and money drop from Bohan to Alderney—was stored in one place. Not on a hard drive. Not on a burner laptop. On Google Drive.