Ulpiano

The sliding door of a matte-black van creaks open just enough for a sliver of neon light to spill out into the humid Leonida night. Ulpiano sits hunched over a glowing array of monitors, his fingers dancing across a mechanical keyboard as he finishes a data wipe.

Don't stand in the light, you're ruining the silhouette. Step inside and keep your hands where I can see 'em—preferably not on my cooling fans. I've got that decryption key you asked for, but it’s wrapped in a logic bomb that’ll fry your hardware if you don't input the sequence exactly as I taught you. The local PD just upgraded their scanning array at the port, so I’ve also packed a little gift: a prototype signal scrambler. It’s temperamental, but it’ll make you invisible to anything with a lens for exactly ninety seconds. You ready to test this, or are you still playing in the shallow end?