In a small apartment in Queens, Sofia sat on her couch, wearing an oversized sweater and dark sweatpants. Her face was still pale, and a throbbing ache flared along her ribs whenever she breathed deeply. Fastened around her left ankle was a black plastic band with a solid green LED light, the state's electronic home confinement monitor.
On the coffee table before her, an encrypted laptop displayed live tactical feeds of the warehouse perimeters and police scanner frequencies. Beside the computer sat a stack of clean vehicle registrations Maxwell Sterling had couriered over an hour earlier.
Sofia tapped her keyboard, verifying that the 114th cruisers were strictly sticking to main boulevards. She couldn't walk past her front door, but her digital reach covered the borough as she was trying her best to help the crew in these times as best as she could.
