5:52 PM. Eight minutes until Project Blackout activated. Sarah parked on the top level of the garage. Six stories up. The entire city spread out before them. Chicago at dusk. Lights starting to come on. The sky darkening. Buildings silhouetted against fading light. Beautiful. Peaceful. Unaware. In eight minutes, that peace would either continue or shatter. Depending on three improvised jammers built in a storage unit by exhausted fugitives who'd run out of options. Sarah turned off the engine. The sudden silence was overwhelming. Just the sound of wind. Distant traffic. The city breathing. Marcus had the laptop open. The three green lights glowed. Steady. Constant. Reliable. "Signal strength is holding," he said. "All three jammers broadcasting at full power. Coverage is optimal. If the activation signal comes as expected, we'll block it. We'll prevent the triggers. We'll stop the attacks." "If," Sarah repeated. That word carrying so much weight. So much uncertainty. So much