He wasn't done. He overlaid a phantom police cruiser in the rearview HUD projection—flashing lights, closing fast. Then, he nudged the GPS nav. The calm female voice that usually said, “In 300 feet, turn left,” now whispered, “Emergency pullover advised. Stop at next safe location.”
He tapped a worn tablet, its screen a patchwork of code and proprietary schematics. “Alright, Echo,” he murmured. “Let’s see what you’re hiding.” Hud Ecu Hacker
Silla, panicking, terrified of hitting a child, jabbed “YES.” He wasn't done