"The Heir of the Ninth Branch, Hans Ford."

"Miss Shannon, the master installed a signal-jamming chip in your phone..."

Before Miley could finish, Cynthia tossed the phone to her. The intermittent signal on the phone indicated that the adversaries had considered all possible scenarios. Even though Cynthia's phone had a signal-jamming chip, it was ineffective against such a prepared opponent.

"This is Independent State; you know it better than I do. See if there's any way out," Cynthia said, removing the rubber band from her wrist and methodically tying her long hair into a low ponytail. She glanced at her outfit, feeling a twinge of relief that she had chosen a suit today. A dress would have been less practical.

"The exits are blocked. We have no retreat," Miley said, calmly surveying their surroundings. "The only way out is ahead."

But a heavy truck was blocking their path, and in front of it were nearly a hundred armed men. To escape, they would have to fight their way through.