Evander resurrected from a black and dreamless sleep with a pained groan, eyes flicking open to an unfamiliar roof and the hypnotizing whirl of the ceiling fan. He leaned up from where he found himself, sprawled across a fancy dinner table in a stranger's clothes, and reached up to run his fingers through his hair, a red crusty paste streaking up his palm and down his sleeve, invading his nostrils with the copper tang of blood. The smell was dizzying. Blinking away the last shreds of fatigue, he edged back, feeling a sharp tug against his wrist and the light chink of a chain.
His Unity Link was gone, replaced by an even slimmer silver bracelet that chafed against his skin. The other cuff hooked around the grip of a black briefcase that weighed at least fifteen pounds, by the way it rested in his lap. Evander sat up fully, glancing around the destroyed condo, strewn with the wreckage of upturned furniture. Water overflowed from the kitchen faucet, dripping in white sheets from the cabinets onto the tiled floor, and the smoke alarm wouldn't stop chirping.
There were others with him in the room, barely more than strangers, but he was reassured to see them. Mission. He remembered boarding an airplane, a taxi ride. Out the tall windows, a dizzying seventy stories below, was the domed Olympic Stadium, and the thrum of city streets, half the signs in French.
"Where the hell are we?"
(Starting out, we are in possession of:
- a briefcase full of diamonds [handcuffed to Evander]
- a firearm [with Dante]
- a huge white cat in a harness and collar
- a stranger hogtied up in the closet)
