Serena stepped into it. “Who are you? What is your name?”
“I am Maria Theresa Hernan. Dolores was my niece.”
“Thank you,” Serena said, and the doors closed between them.
Topside, Serena looked up as she strode toward the yacht.
Two ship engines streaked across the heavens.
She broke into a run, signaling the yacht to power up.
Jumping in, she took the yacht nearly horizontal off the tarmac, and a torpedo blew a hole where her yacht had been.
* * *
The engines screamed and bulkheads creaked as the small ship ripped around the planetoid, the smooth, round surface providing little cover, the two fighters in hot pursuit.
On her neuralink-enhanced retina appeared a bank of functions she'd never seen before.
“Evade” among them, she selected that one, and the yacht wrenched violently le
