Chapter 15Serena sat at a table outside a sushi bar near the town market of Miyaki, picking at a Tokyo roll and watching the passers-by.
Her back to the brick wall, she kept her gaze roving, vigilant from long habit. She wore a disguise complete with retina-obscuring contact lenses and fingertip patches. She had equipped the yacht with a set of purloined transponder codes to fool the spaceport sensors and had landed without question from the tower.
She had decided to stop here one last time before baiting a trap on Nagasaki for her pursuers, hoping for a few minutes peace and a little fresh air—and not the recycled cabin air aboard the yacht—to help clear her mind and plan her trap.
Three times now they had tried to kill her—on Teotihuacán, on Nagasaki, and then at Tarifa—and she had no
