Mr. Drucker didn’t look satisfied by Vaughn’s uncle’s reply, but he didn’t keep on arguing either.
I couldn’t tell whether it came from the table or from someone outside the roachbot’s view, but someone asked, “What about the Heroes League?”
Continue reading Decisions: Part 9
I barely got to wonder what the yellow light meant before the phone in my suit rang. The helmet’s readout showed it as being from HQ.
Walking a little bit away from Vaughn, I took the call, talking low into my helmet’s microphone.
“It’s Marcus,” said the voice on the other end. “I went into HQ after work, and you won’t believe it. You’ve already hit pay dirt.”
Continue reading Decisions: Part 8