“Are you even listening?” No response.
Doubtless he’s finally short-circuited his systems with one too many chemicals. When he comes out of it, we’re going to have a talk. Professional concern. Hands and feet outside of the Sanctum are pointless when the body they’re attached to is limp, useless, two steps away from overdose half the time.
I should check his vitals. It would take a fraction of a second, but right now even that feels like a waste of my time. Reilly can take care of himself. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.
If they’d made Tosh’s truck picking up Reilly in the lower city, who knows how long they’d tailed him? Personal vehicles are fairly uncommon these days, because of how bad the roads have gotten, but Tosh had noticed a few out that night. There was a chance they’d followed him here. I have passive nav scrambling set up around the Sanctum. It affects a two-block radius— interfering with GPS devices, warping and shifting coordinates, making it virtually impossible to find the Sanctum twice.
But I’d let Tosh’s truck through. It was possible that a clever tail could have marked the location on a physical map. Dan Black had warned that his client liked to do things the “old fashioned” way.
No matter. The Sanctum is well defended. I plug myself in to the perimeter security systems just in case and go back to my work.
I don’t need Reilly.