They had a list of names attached to pages and receipts. Davis observed the semi-chaotic mess as he took a few minutes to breathe, drink some coffee, and try to figure out a pattern. There was one note displayed on a huge monitor at the back of the room. A person named Daphne Wall had rented a safety deposit box from a bank in Paris. He'd been trying to figure out if she was important when it had clicked. He’d seen that name before. Where had he seen it? Sweat popped out on his upper lip, as his nerves grew more agitated. Maybe he was making too much of it, but he felt the need to have all eyes on Daphne Wall. Did he have the authority to do that? Could he ask everyone to change what they were doing and look at what he thought was important? Being new in a group with men this skilled was different. Sure, he’d spent years working on covert operations, studying details, sifting through paperwork, and this was his thing, but these guys didn’t know to trust him.
