Page 67 of Cold Ignition

Now they just had to survive it.

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Rangi didn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until Alexios nudged his arm.

“Breathe,” Alexios murmured, voice low, controlled, but not without awareness.

Rangi dragged in a slow breath, eyes still locked on the screen in front of them. On Ahi. On Keanu.

On the man who had walked back into hell like he owned it.

“Yeah,” Rangi muttered. “Working on it.”

They were set up in an abandoned upper level of a skeletal building overlooking the circuit, the structure stripped back to concrete and rusted steel. From here, they had a clear vantage point—visual feeds layered over Luca’s surveillance, drone footage stitching together angles the human eye would miss.

Rangi leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs, gaze tracking the movement below as cars peeled off, engines still ticking with residual heat.

Ahi’s car cut through it all like it belonged there. Like it always had. Like it had never left.

Rangi’s jaw tightened.

Because even now—after the bus, after the shift, after everything that had changed between them—Keanu was still hidden behind that helmet.

Still out of reach.

Still not fully theirs.

“Focus,” Alexios said again, quieter this time.

Rangi exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing his attention away from the man and back to the pattern. Because that’s what this was. A pattern. And now that he knew what to look for—he couldn’t unsee it.

“Three drivers tagged,” he said, voice lower now, more controlled. “Left quadrant.”

Alexios shifted slightly beside him, eyes flicking to the same feed. “I see it.”

Small markers—subtle, almost invisible if you weren’t looking for them. A man brushing past a car. A hand lingering a second too long. Something pressed against the chassis, quick, efficient, practiced.

Rangi’s gaze sharpened further.

“Not everyone’s getting one,” he said.

“No,” Alexios agreed. “Only the ones who performed.”

Rangi leaned back slightly, dragging a hand over his jaw as the implication settled in deeper.

“Jesus.”

Below them, one of the drivers was being approached.

Not like Ahi. This was different. There were two men who approached one on either side. They were blocking exits.

Rangi’s body went still.

“That one,” he said.

Alexios followed his line of sight immediately.

The driver hesitated just a moment before he moved with them, compliance or fear. Probably both.