675_2_rp.rar

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.

"Change of plans, Elias," the man shouted over the rain, stepping out with a hand resting on a holstered sidearm. "The 675 data stays with the firm. You, however, are a loose end." 675_2_RP.rar

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

"Two minutes out," a voice crackled over the radio. It was Kael, his spotter on the roof of the adjacent parking hull. "Change of plans, Elias," the man shouted over

"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.