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Inside, a thousand square feet of space was filled with floor-to-ceiling hard drives, each one labelled not by title, but by a code: R-2003, H-1998, K-1975. The air hummed with the cool breath of servers. In the center of the room, seated on a swivel chair made from old film reels, was the Night Manager—a gaunt woman in her sixties named Ira.

The address led him to an abandoned shopping complex on the outskirts of Mumbai. The neon sign of a once-famous multiplex had long since faded to a ghostly grey. But on the fourth floor, behind a steel door that required a knock of seven slow beats and three fast, Rohan found it. 9xmovies center

"How did you know?" he whispered.

"The Center is moving," she said, not looking up. "Someone in the government traced the IP. We have seventy-two hours." Inside, a thousand square feet of space was