The next night
The air in the penthouse feels different when the apartment becomes a command center. The warm, quiet pace of day-to-day life is completely gone, replaced by the hum of cooling fans and the quiet static of radio receivers.
Locke and Mayhem left over two hours ago in a plain black cargo van. They’re wearing simple dark clothing that blends into the thick fog down at the industrial docks. Dad is less than a mile away from the docks with the rest of the Skulls, keeping the men ready in case things go wrong at the harbor.
Here in the penthouse, the only sound is the fast, steady clicking of a keyboard.
Byte is a huge, quiet Skulls member with glasses, dark tattoos covering his throat, and years of computer experience, most of it criminal. His ice-blue eyes never leave the tw
