Director Haas crumples the data-foil in her fist. She continues to glare out of the panoramic window, her back to the conference room.
The last of the C-Levels closes the door hurriedly behind him. Only her virtual assistant remains in the room. Its holo-visage is deliberately bland and neutral.
At this altitude, the window looks out above the city smog. Sunlight streams into the room, highlighting the meeting table and chairs in a golden glow. Despite this, Haas’s face is dark.
“Where is he?” she snarls, “Where is my idiot son?”