John drove the Silver Rider across half the city, occasionally glancing at the legendary middleman in the passenger seat:
Oulos slumped in the passenger seat, her face obscured by a leather hood with light strips, long sleeves even covering her fingers, looking like a misguided girl lured into a luxury vehicle.
Coupled with the flamboyant shape of the Eisenberg supercar, it wouldn't seem out of place parked in front of any club or bar.
John didn't believe Oulos was here for a joyride.
She didn't give out a specific address at once, instead saying a general direction every five minutes, leaving John to drive however he wanted, gazing idly out the window.
"Someone's tracking us?"
John spoke up.
"Uh-huh, funny how half a month without seeing you suddenly makes you grow brains?"
Oulos glanced at the driver's seat, grinning mischievously.
"Smart mercenaries are scary, you used to be more lovable."
