Kaufm

s I pushed my Harley past ninety miles per hour on the

ght under my black riding leathers, the du

sers, and swarms of press cameras. Colin stood near the main stage in

, clutching a gold-plated USB drive containing the

nveiling a revolutionary heavy ECU platform tod

Cathy, personally co-developed the Whisper system. It wi

three black SUVs with blacked-out plates appe

xing me in toward the o

nger window with a lit cigar, raising a modif

wide open, the tuned engine screaming a

ed the asphalt behind my exhaus

handlebar-a localized electromagnetic pulse emitt

two flanking SUVs died instantly, their steering locking up as th

renching the wheel of the rema

red black pickups bearing the Iron Phantoms skull em

l crushed like paper as Clyde's SUV flipped through the a

the throttle pinned all t

directly in front of the venue's massive gl

et my hair fall free, my cold gaze piercing the glas

s on their holsters. "Ma'am, this is an i

atte-black titanium badge stamped with the gold

ed his head instantly, and parted t

resh rain, motor oil, and burnt gunpowder cut

hundreds of industry executives and gang le

ssion cracking into panic. "Ashley? How did

B drive to her chest. "She's a thie

cutting cleanly through the quiet room. "Steal? I just came

the crowd, camera flash

on the upper balcony opened, and a dozen executives