Leo flipped the label.

The driver blinked. “Dude, I just scan and go.”

Leo lunged, but the box was gone, swallowed by the dark maw of the sorting machine. On the overhead monitor, a green dot began to move. Destination: Seattle. Estimated delivery: before 8 PM.

“What in the—”

Leo tackled him. They hit the wet grass, the box flying. It landed on the porch, its humming now a deafening shriek. The front door opened.

She exhaled. “Good. The first G-Scan was a prototype. It could map every living cell in a 2-kilometer radius—down to the bacteria in your gut. The government used it for ‘population health management.’” She made air quotes. “Then someone hacked it. Turned it into a ghost gun. Pinpoint organ failure. A stroke on command.”

At 7:47 PM, he pulled up to 1423 Willow Lane. The porch light was on. A brown Amazon van was already backing into the driveway.