“Guys, I’m gonna pretend like all of you are incapacitated or unconscious. And if none of you makes a move… — William Gibson
“Guys, I’m gonna pretend like all of you are incapacitated or unconscious. And if none of you makes a move, I’ll be leaving you to your own resources. Otherwise, this drone’s detonating its onboard explosives. As the only one of us who’s not physically present, I’ve got zero fucks to give about how that goes. Your call.
"We’re muted now,” Conner said to Netherton.
Thomas started to cry, in the nursery. “I need to see to my son,” said Netherton, getting up.
“You do that,” said Conner, sounding as if he were enjoying his evening.
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Netherton said nothing, something he’d only recently been learning to deliberately do.
“Turkey and Syria weirding you out?…Folks in Frankfurt made me feel like the Cold War never really went away. Somebody shoots down a couple of Russian jets, wham, it’s Cold War Atlantis, risen from the depths.”
“What’s going on?” asked Manuela, eyeing the container’s door. “Is this a cult? Kidnapping people and telling them somebody’s after them?”
“Let me think about it,” Verity said.
“You’re kidnapped too? Let’s fucking escape!”
