Recadat gets up. She strides to the table, and once she’s close both the man and woman look up at her, startled—perplexed. There is no hint of recognition in his face that she’s a threat, and he still looks surprised when the muzzle of her gun enters his field of vision. The impact of the shot sends him reeling back. Instantly gone. The human skull is not designed to withstand such force, and he appears unaugmented. His companion screams, scrambling away as blood leaks and soaks the table, its spotless cloth, the meal they’ve just shared.
