Lena’s screen flashed. A red dot. Priority One.

Lena ignored the AI. She stepped closer. Voss was trembling. A carton of milk lay on the wet pavement by his feet—he’d dropped it when she yelled.

Lena smiled, turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s hope it learns slow. I like being the one who gets to say no.”

Lena’s hand hovered over her holster. “I don’t see a weapon.”