82 I want to shriek in frustrated fury at Ayaka’s escape. My gun hand rises—no. I can’t hit Ayaka from here. It’s night, and she’s a dark patch against a panoply of lights. The silencer wrecks aim more than a few yards away. And the rectangle of her parachute is already indistinguishable from the churning lights below. I can hit some innocent bastard out for a curry. “She’s escaped,” I snarl. “What?” Deke says. “Ayaka parachuted out the window,” I say. “Sister—cameras. Find her. She’s still airborne.” “Which window?” Sister Silence says. I swap my silenced .38 for the faster, more accurate unsilenced one. Right now, I want the noise. “Boardroom.” “On my way,” Deke says. “Listen,” Sister Silence says. “You need to know—” “Won’t be in the boardroom.” I’m already running back towa

