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‘Then let’s hurry,’ said Garovel.

Hector gathered up the children.

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Walking all the way back to the motel from the port had been irritatingly slow. He’d wanted to just steal a car--as apparently Geoffrey had thrown Colt’s into the water--but Bohwanox wouldn’t allow it.

Yellow tape lined the parking lot, but after waiting for the last squad car to leave for the night, Colt was relieved to discover that his room had not been ransacked by the police. His money, clothes, and travel supplies were all safe.

‘I suppose this means the cops weren’t able to identify you,’ said Bohwanox.

“Could be that someone heard gunshots but no one actually saw me.” Colt exchanged his torn shirt and pants for fresh ones, finding a lone shark tooth in the collar as he threw the old clothes away. “That, or the cops here are just stupid--which is honestly more probable.”

‘I thought you’d think more highly of the police.’

“Not in this fucking country.” He gathered his things and headed back outside.

‘Then why did you even bother becoming a police officer in the first place?’

‘Because I thought I could be useful,’ said Colt. It was the dead of night, so almost no one else was on the street, but he decided to keep their conversation quiet anyway. ‘Tried the military for a while, but it was all training and bullshit. Had to spend all my time with a bunch of dumbasses, and we never even left the country. Got back to Brighton, which was up to its eyeballs in criminal shit, and the law was doing absolutely everything it could to help the assholes get away with it. So I started using the law to fuck them over every chance I got.’

‘And that’s when the Rofals took notice?’