Not a literal one. In this city, ghosts were usually just people who had changed their faces and erased their digital footprints. But this ghost was different. This ghost was Kaelen, Viktor’s former partner in the "acquisition" trade. Kaelen had vanished with a drive containing the raw, unfiltered data on the city’s Council—corruption, bribery, the works. He had vanished, and the contract on his head was worth more than Viktor would see in three lifetimes.
The figure stopped. A hood fell back, revealing a face that was a map of hard living. A scar ran through Kaelen’s left eyebrow, and his eyes had the permanent squint of a man who had been staring into the sun—or maybe just running from it. viktor pritchenko
Viktor Pritchenko walked out of the alley, leaving the ghost behind him. For the first time in ten years, his hands didn't shake. Not a literal one