Sora maneuvered John's body into the alley, the slightly warm metal spine just brushing against the wall when a massive explosion echoed from the street beside them.
The attackers halted their vehicle and tossed in a grenade.
The Fafnir they were riding in was burning.
The sound was deafening.
The flames illuminated the street.
The scorched stench of heat poured through the building crevices, blowing at the edges of John's work jacket.
John furrowed his brow, his temple glistening with sweat.
Retracting his gaze, he cursed.
"Damn it, they leave no survivors."
[Who the hell are they?]
Sora also sensed the enemy wasn't simple.
"Company dogs, professional soldiers."
[Yeah, tougher than the cops!]
"Bullshit, the cops are city-sponsored billboards, with the worst equipment and the toughest jobs. When on street duty, they don't even dare to look company dogs in the face."
Bang, rat-a-tat-tat...
John's words were interrupted by a volley of bullets.
