The low-flying Edge Fighter braked hard to a stop. Li Cheng and Gray Rain jumped out of the cabin, and from a distance they immediately saw White Horse Tombstone and the coffin she was leaning on.
"You two are here."
White Horse Tombstone raised her hand and pointed ahead, asking in confusion, "What's going on with this place?"
This was a pretty standard United States middle‑class suburban villa cluster: green lawns on both sides of the street, two‑and‑a‑half‑story houses with garages, trees and swimming pools behind the houses.
Everything looked perfectly normal, except for...
More than a dozen high‑temperature burn marks, clean and straight like pen strokes, crisscrossing the street and melting the asphalt.
At the end of the burn marks lay the wreckage of two helicopters that looked a lot like Chinooks. They had been downed and burning for a long time; the flames were long gone.
