62: Keelin
Keelin
Keelin moved, fluid and precise. Her NeoGen training ran the show, her altered body carried out the instructions she sent. To anyone watching—if they could track the rapid movements—her actions would have appeared instinctual. But Keelin planned, and then she executed.
Leap at the first guard, snap his neck from behind. As the second turns swing, sever his carotid artery with razor-sharp talons.
Eight targets left. Bring them down one by one. Snap bones. Slice flesh.
One with a raised Preben. Thrust, talons ripping into stomach. Snatch the weapon from his dying grip. Spin, aim, fire. Head-shot.
Seven down.
Two turned to run. One, close—drop, cut deep through her Achilles tendon, finish her as she fell. The other—Preben, back of the head.
Preben out of powe
