The yellow glove lay in the snow, its frayed edges crusted with ice. Janitor Marcus Holt spotted it during his lunch break, its neon hue glaring against the muted alley behind the downtown bank. He nudged it with his boot—stiff, abandoned—but something glinted inside. A silver USB drive, nestled in the thumb. Curiosity overrode caution. That evening, Marcus plugged it into his library computer. Folders labeled "Transaction 12/21" popped up—security blueprints, timestamps, voice recordings. A ...