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Shadow's motorcycle hummed to a stop in his garage, the last vibrations dissipating from its engine. He massages the bridge of his snout, the bags under his eyes swollen and dark. He'd been back and forth between the field and office for two weeks. Shadow had to have Sonic bring him his toothbrush, toothpaste and sleeping bag halfway through day three. His work for G.U.N. was running him into the ground. Luckily, for every two weeks he worked, he got a four day break. Double the workload, double the rest.
Shadow locked up his bike, the combination lock clicking shut. They lived in a small cottage in the middle of the woods, miles from any ci
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