"Someone with the kind of budget that makes DARPA jealous and the kind of tradecraft that makes wetwork look amateur," she confirmed. "This wasn't a drunk guard looking the other way. This was choreographed. Surgical. Someone wanted Trent breathing civilian air and was willing to black out half a city block to ensure the encore went flawlessly.
"Either that, or Trent's been reading too much sci-fi and actually cracked teleportation Or whoever helped him can teleport. Portals are suddenly on the table, and I hate how much sense they're starting to make... if that is the case, then, we're all about to start wearing tinfoil hats ironically."
Charlotte had gone the approximate colour of month-old yoghurt. "Why on earth would anyone bother springing him? He's a mid-tier campus predator. A nobody with a grudge and a bad haircut. He hurt Emma. That's it. He's not exactly Pablo Escobar's secret protégé."
