The Illusion of CTRL

Gods Plan, Men Die

And then there was one.

N looked back towards the manor, and briefly entertained the idea of aborting the mission and letting the target go. But he had seen and dealt with the consequences of leaving a job unfinished. He had lost friends to those consequences. Worked with people who had lost everything to those consequences. Because with enough time and room to breathe, one loose end could turn into a whole operation with long reach and a longer memory.

Plus, the man with the Redback tattoo had started the whole thing. He had gone along with a scheme that he knew would result in the death of an innocent. Because N was absolutely convinced that it was a scheme, and he had an idea of who the masterminds were. Their time would come, if he was right. But Redback's time was now.

He would be driving a box truck from what Morgan said. Quick off the line by nature of an electric drivetrain, but it would top out just as quick even if the governor had been removed. For once the Elliotts' stupidly long driveway was a blessing; N might not be able to run him down in a straight chase, but there was no way the truck would be able to get far enough into the streets to lose him.

As he sprinted down the driveway, a message popped up in the corner of his HUD.

CYN has sent you gate-cam.mp4.

The network was back up. Whatever device the men had was either in the truck and now too far away to work, or had been found inside the manor, likely on Joshua Park's remains, and deactivated.

N opened the file and watched as an inconspicuous box truck tore through the gate camera's field of view at very conspicuous speeds, and nearly spun out while making a sharp right turn onto the street.

If he'd turned left, he might have stood a ghost of a chance. That was a straight shot to the highway, where the only place N could be was behind him. But to the right were tight, winding roads built around Old Money homes and property lines that barely made sense. Plenty of places for N to run him down or cut him off, if he didn't crash outright and make himself easy pickings.

N hoped Redback was a decent driver. He wanted him to navigate the treacherous twists and turns. He wanted him to drive that truck like it WASN'T loaded with hundreds of millions of dollars worth of things that should've been in museums. He wanted him to heave a sigh of relief, of hope, every time he saw nothing when he looked out his windows and into his mirrors.

He wanted to watch that hope die.

*****

"The police should be here any minute," J said as she stood guard outside of Tessa's bathroom.

"*Contemplative Hum* I wouldn't be so sure about that."

J and V jumped in unison and their gazes snapped to Cyn. After they'd made it to the safety of Tessa's room, the broken bot had gone full creepshow, wandering off to the darkest corner of the room and giggling to herself in random intervals. V thought she heard something like "get 'em" a couple times, and J would later swear she caught "Oooh, that's an artery".

"What do you mean?" J asked.

"You both know what I mean," Cyn smiled wide, teeth shining in the shadows like they were wet. "I would say they are drawing straws as we speak, deciding which unlucky little piggy has to respond."

"We're talking home invasion, armed robbery and multiple homicides! All involving a minor!" J hissed, eyes darting to the closed bathroom door for a moment. "They're not just gonna let that go."

"Once they send someone to confirm they're not walking into something above their pay grade," Cyn replied as if she was speaking to a child. "You should know how these things work around here."