The fidget in Kranz’s leg overwhelmed his hip joint, just in time for the pain to hit.
“I’m sorry it had to be done this way,” said Harrison, “but I can’t take any chances, not at this level of things.”
Jarvis peered up from his focused stare and fixed another bloodthirsty snarl to the thin lines of his mouth. This ploy hadn’t gone unaccounted for, not in the slightest.
“If you value your career, your life, the life of everyone you’ve ever loved…you’ll stop this right now. I mean it. Once you take that bag off of his face, the Collective will never stop.”
The paper-bagged body sat silently across from them, fingernails digging into the denim of his scraggly jeans.
The Collective never lose sight of their Guides, Jarvis thought, especially the ones gone rogue.
“What have you done to Endo?” Kranz asked. “How is he here?”
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