The highway stretches out before you as the car roars beneath you. Cars whiz by and sirens blare behind you, as the cops ineffectively give chase. With local heroes occupied with some rando villain team, and the local precincts are lagging behind the monster of a car you were given for the heist, It seems like your home free.

Until you see her.

Marshall, Sydney Perfect Sweet.

And in that moment, you understand the mistake.

The heist didn’t go wrong at the vault.

It didn’t go wrong at the convoy.

It went wrong the instant someone decided this was worth sending her.
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