Demi zoomed her camera in and looked closely at the firefight happening in the square.
He wasn't there.
She pulled her drone back up and set it back to its patrolling circle. She frowned. He had gone in. but he was not part of the fight. Not yet.
She frowned and tapped her fingers nervously on the corners of her desk.
"Do you see number 47, Sergeant?"
Demi jumped. The Director stood over her, his clothes creased sharply over lean limbs like a child's stick figure. He reeked of cigar smoke.
Wordlessly Demi pointed to the little corner of the screen where Bruce, number 47, crouched beneath an outcropping. The Director made a small affirming sound in the corner of his throat and stood up.
"I don't think more than five will make it out of this," he said and strolled away.
Demi hovered over the keyboard, watching.
