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[̷A̷C̷T ̷T̷W̷O ]
Hank turned to her, his features pulled into a harsh scowl, but anger alone did not appear in his eyes. It took Elodie a moment to place the emotion, but soon it registered — FEAR. Hank Anderson was SCARED.
"I don't know what the fuck you think you've created, but I can tell you right now that thing is a fucking war machine, a cocked and loaded gun brought to a knife fight. This isn't a fucking battlefield, this is DETROIT, and the longer Connor runs around here without so much as a passing care, the more you're risking city-wide IMPLOSION. Get it under CONTROL."
And she knew he was right, he was right, HE WAS RIGHT.
