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... s, steady and sure, their rhythm thrown only slightly by the urgency behind them.

Mark wiped the blood-tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, smearing it slightly across the old scar running down his jaw. His voice came low, almost a growl.

"Give me a second."

He turned from me, fingers flicking toward the edge of his coat. I thought he was reaching for another weapon, until it became clear that what he was seeing was the faint shimmer of a projected system interf ...

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