"Sir, they’re getting closer," the driver said, his tone calm yet alert.
Julian glanced at the rearview mirror. The headlight of the black motorcycle cut through the darkness of Sinclair’s streets like a predator's eye. The rider appeared highly skilled, weaving between other cars at an impossible speed.
"Elara, what defensive protocol were you talking about earlier?" Julian asked, his hand gripping the plush leather armrest.
"Just a minor disruption, sir," Elara replied from the front seat. She touched a hidden panel on the dashboard. "We don't want to make a big scene on public roads. At least, not tonight."
"What did you do?"
"Sent a directional electromagnetic pulse," Elara answered quietly. "Just enough to disable the electronic ignition system of any vehicle within a ten-meter r
