She could’ve been anywhere.

Maxfield’s eyes darted from rooftop to rooftop. Was she watching him? He hit the mute button in disgust. No time to mourn for the lieutenant.

He yanked the peeper down by its cable, ran back to the alley along the building. Maybe less visible there. Maybe.

He tiptoed to the back door. No lieutenant, but footprints leading to Wanda’s.

Thinking fast, he turned his stealth off.

—

SilverFlatsPD: @SFPDOps code black, all hands downtown. hotspots at shoals, wandas. one man down. no netcomms, stealth on

—

Message sent, Maxfield reactivated stealth and sprinted in a random direction. Of course Rain was listening. She heard everything on the net.

Maxfield was no idiot though. He knew better than to proceed without backup. Best bet now was to get far away from his last known position, wait for the squad, and hope Shoal didn’t turn up to complicate things.

The sun was blisteringly hot. Not a cloud in the sky. But the storm was here, and Maxfield wished he’d packed his umbrella.