“She pushed her bloodied hands deep into her jacket pockets. She’d already pulled out the shards of glass and made makeshift bandages from strips of a passing tablecloth, but she needed stitches. Probably a lot of them. As calmly as she could, Angel walked down the back street to the nearest metro station. One stop later, she got off and swapped to a different line. Another stop, and she repeated the procedure. Twenty minutes of brisk walking, and she entered a shopping complex kilometers from h...er hotel. News streams she accessed via her implants showed pictures of her on the crime channels. She bought strong painkillers along with tinted glasses and a tight woolen cap. A quick scan of the establishments, and she found what she was looking for: a medical center. It was dark and dingy inside, and the carpet threadbare. Just the thing. The doctor was shady, wearing a stained lab coat and surrounded by yellowing paint and outdated equipment. She seemed half asleep and surprised to see someone walk in.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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