The iron clock on the hangar wall struck three.
Three deep, metallic chimes echoed through Terminal 9. The heavy concrete floor trembled beneath the tires of Coach #404.
Julian Vance stood by the front step-well. His fingers still smelled of cold copper and battery acid. Right beside his boots, the severed Pneumatic Master Pit-Wrench lay on the rubber mat.
“Clock just rolled over to Shift 08,” Lin Mei said. Her digital stopwatch beeped once. “Three o’clock on the dot.”
“How is our battery voltage?” Julian asked.
“Zero on the main bus,” Lin Mei replied, tapping her voltmeter. “Negative twenty-four volts disconnected. Exactly as the procedure demands.”
Mac Cole didn’t move from the driver’s pedestal. His mechanical left arm rested on the black steering wheel.
“The switch is open,” Mac said. “We beat the three-minute limit by one second, Chief. The circuit is dead.”
