Elias didn't hesitate. He slammed the Sultan into reverse, tires Screeching against the wet pavement. Kael’s sniper rifle barked from the rooftop, a spark flying off the Tailgater’s hood. "Go! Go! Go!" Kael yelled into the comms.
He didn’t know what was on it. In his line of work, knowing was a liability. But the rumors in the underground forums suggested it contained the "RP" — the Response Protocol for the city’s largest private security firm. 675_2_RP.rar
The deal was supposed to be simple. Data for a clean slate. But as the silver Tailgater pulled up nose-to-nose with his car, Elias saw the driver. It wasn’t the contact he expected. It was a man in a tactical vest, his face obscured by a ballistic mask. Elias didn't hesitate
"Copy," Elias replied, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror. A pair of headlights rounded the corner, moving too fast for a casual midnight drive. He didn’t know what was on it
