The flight to New York was a silent hell. Every minute felt like an hour, as the financial market graphs ticked wildly on the co-pilot's monitor. We'd managed to turn the tide in the last hour of market closing, but the Syndicate was badly wounded, our reserve capital drastically depleted. The Northern Faction had lost significant momentum, but they would definitely rebound.
"Net losses of $400 billion over the last 72 hours, Cassian," Breyer reported via the emergency communication channel. He was leading the remaining team from London, trying to stabilize the Asian market after our attack and defense in Europe. "We managed to fend off the worst of the attack, but we're now on the verge of an internal Syndicate recession."
I stared at the screen, my eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. I'
