“Yeah, fine, whatever. At least it’s not Weber herself. Just her little crew of wannabe bosses.”

His partner shushed him. “Dude, don’t play with fire,” he fiercely whispered.

Privacy screens came down to hide the four people Lifting from the Sleep as they got out and dressed. Michael waited impatiently, hoping that Kaine had done exactly what he’d wanted him to do. Used the Mortality Doctrine to come save him. But had it happened too quickly?

The privacy screens rolled up, one by one, revealing three men and one woman, all of them dressed as professionally as Agent Weber herself. They smoothed out their clothing, then walked toward Michael and his two guards. No one said a word. Michael had a hard time breathing, thinking about each and every pull of air.

One of the men who’d Lifted out of a Coffin stepped up to the guard holding the gun. He glared at the weapon, his meaning obvious.

“I, uh…,” the guard stammered, then put the gun in its holster. “Sorry. It’s just that…the kid wasn’t very cooperative. He became a flight risk, Agent Stevens.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” the man replied, standing close enough to the soldier to tower over him. “Trust me, I know this one. Very resourceful, isn’t he? Hand me your weapon.”

The soldier did a double take, not expecting the command. “Huh? My gun? Why?”

“Agent Weber has been observing your…proceedings from our place in the VirtNet. She’s ordered us to come and have you stand down. I’m sorry to break the news. Hand me your weapons, and please go home. I’m sure she’ll arrange a meeting with you and your superiors soon to get everything sorted out.”

“This is a joke,” the soldier grumbled, but he did as he was told. He pulled the gun out of his holster and handed it to Agent Stevens.

Stevens looked at it for a moment, turning it over in his hands. “Resourceful indeed.” He gripped the handle of the gun and pointed it at the soldier’s head, put his finger on the trigger, all in a split second. The boom of it firing rocked the air, echoing throughout the chamber. Before Michael could turn to look, Stevens spun and aimed at the other guard, fired. He missed. The guard scrambled for his own weapon, shock transforming his face, but Stevens didn’t miss the second time.

Michael sat in his chair, ears ringing, stunned. He looked up at Stevens, who turned toward him, the gun held out before him, pointed at Michael.

“Why so surprised?” Stevens said. “Isn’t this what you asked me to do?”

“K-Kaine?” Michael whispered. “I…I didn’t think…I…”

“You thought I’d possess this man’s body, then come and nicely ask these fine guards to let you go? Seems like a poor plan.”