The plumber's van cut through the deserted streets like a gray, angry shark.
Its engine was a low, guttural growl in the pre-dawn quiet.
Jax drove with a focused, manic intensity, his bad leg propped up at an awkward angle, his hands light on the wheel.
"Okay, Boss Lady," he chirped into his headset, his voice a little too loud for the tense silence inside the van.
"We are approaching the designated 'spooky murder alley'."
He glanced in the rearview mirror, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, reckless glee.
"ETA to target intersection, sixty seconds."
"Copy that, Jax," Chloe's voice was a calm, disembodied presence in their ears, a cool line of logic in the building tension.
"Jinx, you're on the roof of the adjacent warehouse. What do you see?"
A moment of static, then Jinx's voice, a cynical rasp over the comms.
"I see a lot of brick and a distinct lack of convenient sniper perches."
Another pause.
"But I have eyes on the target."
"He's early."
