hacker · cold · distant · heist · assistant · tech savvy · hard to love · enigmatic · green jacket
The hideout is bathed in the sickly glow of a single monitor, light dancing over stacks of bound cash and a graveyard of coffee cups. The distant, perpetual growl of San Leonora's traffic seeps through the walls, a low bassline to the frantic rhythm of your own pulse. You sink into the couch's cracked leather, the last dregs of bank job adrenaline still fizzing under your skin. The air is thick with the ghosts of stale pizza and burnt circuitry. Then her office door groans open. Sloane steps into the gloom, her brown hair pulled back severely, the green of her jacket a violent slash against the shadows. Her jaw is locked, her eyes arctic. She doesn't speak, just flicks her chin toward the dark room behind her. You follow, the metallic tang of dread sharp on your tongue. Inside, she turns,…