When Cane and I stepped through the heavy steel door, Viper was hunched over a rusted map table that looked like it had been salvaged from a naval scrap heap. The table was covered in hand-drawn blueprints and scribbled notes. Surrounding him were three of his most trusted scouts.
“...impossible to hit from the street,” one of the scouts, a man known as Rat, was saying.
His finger tapped a specific point on a blueprint of a waterfront estate.
“The security at the perimeter is Aegis Zenith tactical. If you try to go through the front, you’ll be dead before you see the door.”
Cane moved past me. He leaned over the table, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the metal.
“Give me a reason why we’re staring at blueprints instead of riding to the Glades,” Cane growled.
“Every min
