Eden was ready fifteen minutes before Stacker awoke. Santos was in the back, knocked out with his own dose of propofol, so now the police commissioner was put in his place and tied to the folding chair with several strategically placed zip ties.
"Hi," she said, and crossed her legs before settling more comfortably into her own chair. "It's currently just after half past six in rainy Alexandria, and we're live in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in the Slum Belt where none of the police will ever cruise by to spot and save you. I suggest not making very many sounds until I ask you to, and also to keep your voice down. Otherwise, I'm going to have to dose you again - not enough to knock you out, but certainly enough to stop your struggles while I, perhaps, go and ask your wife and children
