"ETA to the shipyards?" Ryuuji's voice cut through the heavy silence of the
armored SUV.
"Six minutes," Ren replied from the driver's seat, eyes flicking between the
road and the GPS tracker on the dashboard. "Traffic is clear. Police scanners
are quiet."
"They'll stay quiet," Hanae said. She ran her thumb over the folded steel of her
new ring. "The Board is watching. They want to see the show. They've bought us a
thirty-minute window of complete blackout in the bay district."
Takeshi racked a fresh shell into his shotgun. "Thirty minutes. Generous."
"It's twenty-five more than we need." Ryuuji checked the magazine of his rifle.
Click. Clack. Smooth, practiced motions. He looked at Hanae. "Volkov's primary
stronghold. A decommissioned freight terminal. He has sixty men. Heavy weaponry.
Choke points at every entrance."
"You sound excited, husband."
"I haven't had a proper workout in months, wife."
