THE ELEVEN-PIECE landed badly.
That saved the garage.
If it had come down clean, it would have punched through the street, the service roof, and the evidence shaft under it. Instead it hit the curb with one shoulder, rolled through a row of empty security barriers, and drove both hands into the pavement before its weight finished arriving.
Concrete burst around its fingers.
The garage door buckled outward.
The three fake escorts inside turned their rifles toward the new hole.
The foundation witness stood between them and the lift, Mina Cho's copied page still raised.
Rina had the garage speaker before anyone else found a breath.
"No one owns that rescue body," she said. "No one has command. If you can hear me, choose witness first."
The eleven-piece lifted its head.
It was not shaped like the one that had carried civilians from the tunnel mouth.
