The freezing air rushing from the deep underground tunnels carried a suffocating scent of oxidized iron, old rust, and heavy industrial engine oil. Delon bolted down the steep concrete steps descending into Subterranean Station Sector 4, his boots skidding slightly against the damp, grit-covered surface. The brilliant neon lights of the downtown overpass vanished behind him, replaced by the flickering, low-wattage amber bulbs of the transit terminal stairwell. His breathing was ragged, torn from his lungs in short, desperate gasps as his mind replayed the narrow escape from the surface scanning line.
"The entire surface grid is locked down," Delon thought, his hand tightly gripping the rusted iron handrail as he descended deeper into the subterranean dark. "Aiden has deployed plaincloth
