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{{a|opcoboone|}}{{smallcaps|As a blood-red sun}} dipped to the the rim of the world, three silhouettes watched the procession thunder across the desert miles below them. An eighteen-wheeler flanked by a pair of [[COO]] gunships | {{a|opcoboone|}}{{smallcaps|As a blood-red sun}} dipped to the the rim of the world, three silhouettes watched the procession thunder across the desert miles below them. An eighteen-wheeler flanked by a pair of [[COO]] gunships. | ||
<div style="text-indent: 20px;"> | <div style="text-indent: 20px;">The tallest figure stood in the centre, shrouded by billowing canvas. The smaller riders the either side sat astride dirt bikes. | ||
“That’s the signal. It is ” | A thin artery snaked away from the convoy and ran ten flat miles to low-lying a dusky settlement, guarded by a perimeter network of observation towers. Presently, the towers flashed coordinated pulses of light: three long, three short, three long. | ||
“That’s the signal. It is time.” | |||
“Are you sure?” | “Are you sure?” |