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Chapter Sixty-Two - Arena
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... ll!”
--Motto of the Family’s unofficial Orbital Strike Squadron
***
I spun around the corridor and took in everything. It only took a split second to figure out what was going on.
There was a room at the far end of the corridor. Unadorned walls, thick, made of cement. The shelter. Before that were some doors, heavy metal things. Not vault doors, but the sort I’d expect to see in a well-secured warehouse or at the front of someone paranoid’s place.
They’d b ...
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