The flight back to Macau was quiet.
I sat in the plush leather seat of the Gulfstream, watching the lights of Singapore fade behind us as we climbed over the South China Sea. The city was a grid of neon bleeding into black water, and somewhere down there four Imperial Shadows were probably still coughing Halon out of their lungs. Wondering how a billionaire had military-grade security and a federal response timer.
Let them wonder.
I slept for two hours. Vanguard conditioning. Drop into deep REM on command, wake up with zero grogginess and full situational awareness. It was the only way to stay functional running on 4 hours across 3 time zones. The adrenaline was still in my system, but my body knew how to shut it off.
When I woke up we were already descending. The Pearl River delta spread out below us. Macau looked small from up here. Like a board I'd just finished playing on. The Wynn, the Jade Palace, the Outer Harbour. All of it painted in red.
