2 | Igi

Jones allowed himself the faintest smile. “Still alive. That’s the only score that counts.”

They reached the rendezvous roof just as the alarm finally blared—someone had found the first body. Searchlights cut the rain into white knives. A twin-rotor helicopter was supposed to be waiting, but the pad was empty. Jones allowed himself the faintest smile

Nightshade looked at him. “You lost the stealth bonus.” Searchlights cut the rain into white knives

They commandeered the truck. Jones hotwired it as shrapnel pinged off the armor. The gate splintered under the vehicle’s weight, and they roared into the forest, the prison lights shrinking behind them like dying stars. “You lost the stealth bonus

Inside, the prison smelled of rust, sweat, and burnt coffee. He moved through the corridors like a ghost, pausing at every corner to peek with his tiny fiber-optic camera. Two guards at the end of the hall, one smoking, one complaining about the cold. Jones pulled a flashbang from his vest.