Kandy stepped into a waiting tuk-tuk and gave the driver an address—a rooftop bar where the champagne was cold and the stairs were a perfect warm-up for a 720-degree kick.
She lit a cigarette, not because she smoked, but because it looked good for the nonexistent cameras. Kandy stepped into a waiting tuk-tuk and gave
“Then tell him,” she said, exhaling smoke into the Bangkok night, “that the Hi Kix Kick Ass Model Habit doesn’t take notes. She takes necks.” She takes necks
Kandy’s left leg whipped up so fast the air cracked. Her shin met his temple. He dropped like a sack of wet cement. The second threw a hook—she ducked, pivoted, and landed a spinning back fist, then a kikku —a jump kick to the third man’s chest that sent him crashing through a glass table. The second threw a hook—she ducked, pivoted, and
The handler paused. “That’s your third extraction this month. Your modeling agent is furious.”
Tonight’s target: a flash drive shaped like a serpent’s fang, hidden in the spinal implant of a rogue bio-hacker codenamed Serpien.
“Serpien is sleeping,” she said. “Drive retrieved. And tell wardrobe I need new heels. These have blood on them.”