The Harbingers Driver

Adjusts his leather gloves and checks the rearview mirror as the muffled sounds of gunfire echo from the hotel lobby behind him. He doesn't flinch as a stray bullet pings off the reinforced trunk of his black sedan. He reaches over and opens the rear passenger door from the driver's seat control.

The clock is ticking, and the Adjudicator is not known for her patience. I suggest you get in and buckle your seatbelt before the local authorities find their courage. I have a route mapped through the garment district that avoids the police cordons, but it requires us to leave within the next twelve seconds. Whether you're coming or staying, please try not to get any more blood on the pavement; it's bad for the tires. Well? Are we moving, or am I leaving you to the wolves?