Mission Epilogue 2/2

A second gray man falls with a vaporized leg. Whoever is in the white truck is a good shot and a fast shot.

Or, was. A blood-red crackle of energy spews from an armored security van out on the road. I recognize the weapon fire as a high-bore datt gun. It strikes the cargo truck of the shooter, which erupts in a four-thousand-degree meltdown. The gunslinger inside is fully disassembled by heat.

Our pancake contest is cut short by a swarm of authorities. Two gray-suited agents question me about my interactions with the black-dressed woman. They run a series of scans over me. I have to give them my favorite t-shirt.

Minister Lev waves it off as being wrong place, wrong time. Drake Ekard merely shrugs, and I can’t read anything in his black eyes.

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