[Ethan's POV]
The Black Sea Investment Bank was a fortress of pale stone and reinforced glass, sitting in the center of a wide, cobblestone plaza in Odesa's historic district.
Claire and I were crouched on the flat roof of a neo-classical apartment building across the street, hidden behind a stone parapet. The wind whipping off the sea was bitter, carrying the scent of salt and impending snow.
I lowered my binoculars, my jaw tight. "It's a hard target. I count twelve PMCs on the perimeter alone. They've got overlapping fields of fire, thermal cameras on the roof, and reinforced steel barricades over the ground-floor windows."
"Isabella isn't taking any chances after the warehouse," Claire said, her teeth chattering slightly as she pulled her scarf tighter. She was looking at a physical tourist map of the city she had bought from a kiosk earlier that afternoon.
