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in for the action.
    Seito had called almost immediately after they were on the highway. He had i nsisted that he hold off on an explanation and instead tell them exactly where they were going and why; he might be cut off abruptly, he had explained hurriedly, and there was no guarantee he could call back. He had then rushed into telling them to head to Houston, more specifically Silte’s Houston Warehouse. Sabrina had felt a stab of regret when she heard him mention it, but she listened closely to what he said, ready to seize on the moment she had waited for.
    The orders had come from high up the Anti-Corp ranks: they were to go to the Warehouse and, after rendezvousing with a group of AC people in the area, free a group of the mov ement’s informers and sympathizers who were imprisoned there after being discovered in Silte’s corporate family. They were relying on Sabrina’s knowledge of Guardian’s standard procedure and computer systems to make the rescue a success, since it had been determined that the GPA was stationed there. But Sabrina wasn’t sure that was wise; she may have intimate knowledge of the GPA, but she was a detective, not a special task force operative. Infiltrations and hostage liberations were as foreign to her as crime scene investigation was to an assault officer pumped full of steroids. This was not a welcome task, but the alternative meant leaving innocent people to suffer the same fate as those in the report that had cost Sabrina her job.
    “And that’s really all I can say right now,” Seito said, ending his frantic speech. After this barely-coherent explanation, he abruptly stopped talking, distracted with something off-camera for a few minutes.
    Unable to handle the suspense any longer, Sabrina said, “So what was going on in Dallas? Why did we have to leave so fast?”
    “ Hm?” Seito looked up; because of the angle at which the tablet was propped up on the center console his eyes appeared to meet hers, briefly. “Not just Dallas,” he said. “Here, New York, Chicago, even Houston. Everywhere. It’s the riots…more of an assault actually. All those millions of suspended employees are angry at Silte; some of them decided to band together. It only took a few guys from the movement to turn them into armies. Not like the protests a couple weeks ago—that was nothing. These guys are really pissed; they’re armed, and they’re going to fight.”
    “The movement is involved?” Jason asked.
    “It’s Anti-Corp and PAC leading them. The smaller factions are choosing sides or staying out. The one here is PAC, which is why I’m laying low. Dallas is AC, but it’s the biggest one—obviously, since Silte headquarters is there. If you hadn’t gotten out right away you might have been stuck for a very long time. Maybe even killed.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me this shit was going on?” Jason looked as alarmed as Sabrina felt. They had seen the laid-off masses lining streets with anti- Silte signs in some of the larger cities they passed through, but nothing had indicated massive, organized riots.
    “I didn’t know,” Seito shot back in irritation. Clearly he had not been sleeping much; the weariness showed in his face and his mood. “I only found out an hour ago. I called you right a fter. They said there might be bombs.”
    “Bombs?” Turning in her seat and straining against the seatbelt, Sabrina looked back at the fading Dallas skyline, as if she would be able to see the imminent discord and chaos. “And what about when we get to Houston—and everywhere in between?”
    “Just get there,” Seito said. “That’s all I can tell you.”
    “Well, thank you, Seito,” Sabrina said, trying hard to use her most un-detective-like tone. “For the warning. And all your help.”
    “Thanks, Sei-kai,” Jason added.
    “Yeah,” Seito said gloomily. In that moment, his exhaustion seemed to fall upon him all at once, pulling his face downward into a half-shadowed state. “I’ll