Viper’s lips press into a line. “Yes. But if we want to hold the rest, we need a plan that doesn’t grind my people to the floor. These twenty-hour shifts aren’t helping anyone.”
“Yourproblem isn’tmyorders, Viper. It’syou,” Kane corrects. “Get your enforcers in line and harden their spines. If they can’t keep up, replace them.”
A muscle in Viper’s jaw jumps, but he stays silent. Kane couldn’t care less.
He switches his focus to Echo. “Status on those medkit orders?”
She scratches her jaw. “No good, boss. My connects aregetting cold feet. Too much heat here. Worried about attention from the NCPD.”
His fingers curl around the edge of the table. “You think Dr. Hayashi cares about grease when she’s turning broom closets into triage bays?” Kane shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping. “Can’t you handle something this simple?”
For once, Echo holds her tongue. Her human eye flicks aside.
That same look—Kane crushes the thought. That person’s been out of his life for almost two weeks now.
“Coda, status on our drones?”
“We’re down twenty-five percent.” His delivery doesn’t waver. Still, there’s a pause before he continues. “However, those new shipment routes you approved last week—”
Kane cuts him off. “They’re dead. We’re switching.” It’s the third change this month, but Coda knows better. “What about the batch I flagged for repair?”
Coda’s hands still over the invisible keys. “I…don’t recall that directive, sir.”
The table rattles under the slam of Kane’s fist. “You don’t recall?” These missteps and miscommunications are wearing him thin. If Kane believed he gave the command, then he did.
“This is your job. If my orders don’t get followed, that’s on you.” He gestures at his fellow lieutenant. “Work with Echo. Get our supplies back up. Now.”
His fingers resume their rhythm while Kane turns to Wren at his side.
“Why’re civilians reporting a ghost town at the marketplace…again?”
“I—” Wren swallows. “The residents…they’ve felt threatened. So some of the shops closed up.”
Kane’s jaw tightens.
She straightens fast. “But I told them not to worry! We’ll—”
“Threatened?” he interrupts. “By whom, exactly? Us? Natural Order?” His lips curl in a snarl. “Or are they making excuses to avoid paying their dues? After all we’ve done to protect them?”
Even after they let Natural Order inside their territory, a mistake that doubled that district’s fees.
Her heartbeat flashes red in his overlay. “Um…”
He crosses his arms. “The excuse doesn’t matter. Remind them what waits beyond our holowalls—and what happens if they resist.” Kane jerks his chin. “Press rats say Ulvepack’s out there peeling chrome off anyone they catch. Maybe the shops wanna take their chances with that instead.”
She shoots to her feet, nearly knocking over a holopad. “I won’t let you down, sir!”
When he doesn’t reply, she sits down slowly.
Before Kane can continue, Coda speaks up. “Sir—your wristlink. It’s urgent.”
Kane lifts his arm to turn on the display. A projection flickers above the device. His chest tightens.
Rafael stands alone in Shreveport, outside one of the few HOV stops still connected to Midtown. Even through the grainy holo, his pristine white scrubs give him away as someone not from this side of town.
An ache settles beneath his ribs. The visit alone is unexpected. This close to nightfall, it’s almost a death wish.
He pushes to his feet, the chair skidding behind him. “The meeting’s over.”