"Status report, Elias."
Ares’s voice was a low, dangerous murmur in the cavernous silence of the underground laboratory. He sat at the edge of the medical table, staring down at his motionless legs. The glow of the holographic monitors painted his skin in a pale, icy blue.
"I have a visual on the Black Snake compound, Commander," Elias’s voice crackled through the sub-vocal earpiece. "It’s an old meatpacking plant by the docks. Rusted out, fortified steel doors. Heat signatures indicate about twenty hostiles inside. Heavily armed."
"And Silas?" Ares asked, unbuttoning his tailored dress shirt and tossing it aside.
"He is in the main office on the second floor," Elias confirmed. "Pacing. He looks nervous. The stunt you pulled at the estate really rattled his cage. What is the play here?
