The roar of the aggressive Ducati engine tore through the darkness of night, carrying C far away from the chaos in front of Ivansia's house.
He knew exactly what he had to do next. His gaze was locked on the phone mounted on his bike's holder.
A small red dot blinked steadily on the screen, moving across the digital map. It was the GPS tracker Luna had slipped onto the corrupt policemen's car earlier.
C followed that trail, his mission crystal clear: retrieve the briefcase that Ivansia's father had handed over to the crooked cops.
He rode at a moderate speed, careful to keep his distance so as not to be spotted. His mind dissected every possibility like a machine.
Based on the loops he'd experienced before, he expected the police car to stop beneath a deserted overpass, a place they often used for shady deals or just to lay low.
