I grow stronger by making my wife happy.

Far away from Alpha Three, a completely different group was making its way through the Green Zones without the slightest concern for what they had left behind in Death Row Valley.

The difference between the yellow and Green Zones became obvious the farther Larry’s convoy travelled. Dense wilderness gradually gave way to maintained roads, cleared stretches of land, communication towers, and small settlements built around Association outposts.

There were still beasts wandering beyond the roads, but most were low-ranked creatures that instinctively kept their distance from the passing vehicles, and the occasional Rank One beast stupid enough to wander onto the highway was more likely to be struck by a transport truck than killed by a Contractor.

After everything they’d encountered over the past several days, the Green Zone almost felt painfully ordinary.

Larry sat behind the wheel of the lead vehicle with one hand resting loosely against the steering wheel while the other occasionally tapped against the door.

The exhaustion of Death Row Valley still hadn’t completely disappeared from his body, and he could feel several bruises beneath his clothing whenever the vehicle passed over an uneven section of road, but none of it was serious enough to worry about.

Everyone who mattered had survived, their official Association mission had technically been completed, and they were already well on their way back toward Delta Two.

It could have gone much better but it could also have gone considerably worse.

A sign appeared ahead.

GREENWAY SERVICE POINT: 2 KM

Larry glanced at the fuel indicator. It was already getting low. He activated the group communication channel.

"We’re stopping at the service point ahead. Fuel up, check the vehicles, grab whatever you need, and don’t take forever. I want us moving again within twenty minutes."

A tired voice immediately came through the speaker.

"Twenty? We’ve been driving for hours."

"You can sleep when we reach Delta Two."

"That’s still hours away."

"Then complain quietly."

Several people laughed through the channel.

Larry disconnected.

Two kilometers later, the service station appeared beside the highway.

There wasn’t much to it.

A broad paved area had been cleared beside the road with several charging and fuel terminals arranged beneath a reinforced canopy.

A small automated convenience building stood farther back with vending machines, washrooms, food dispensers, and a few tables beneath another shelter. There were no attendants walking between vehicles and nobody standing behind counters.

Like many service stations scattered across the safer sections of the Green Zones, the entire place was self-service. Contractors and travellers scanned their identification or payment cards at the terminals, refuelled their own vehicles, bought whatever supplies they needed from the automated shop, and continued travelling.

Larry pulled into an empty terminal. The other vehicles spread toward the neighboring pumps. Doors opened and the team climbed out.

Several immediately stretched after hours trapped inside their vehicles.

Larry stepped onto the pavement and rolled his shoulders before removing the fuel connector from its station. He attached it to the vehicle, scanned his card against the terminal, selected the amount, and waited for the automated system to begin filling the tank.

Marcus wandered past.

"I’m getting something to eat. Anyone want anything?"

"Coffee."

"Get me two."

"Something with actual meat."

"You’re standing ten meters from the machines. Get it yourself."

"Then why did you ask?"

He ignored the complaint and continued toward the automated building.

Larry barely listened.

He took out his phone. There hadn’t been much signal through several stretches of their journey, and he’d been checking whenever they passed through areas covered by Green Zone communication towers.

There was really nothing important, just association notifications, mission updates and several messages. Then his phone vibrated.

A single notification appeared.

Larry’s eyes stopped moving. For a moment, he simply stared at the screen, then he opened it.

A transaction confirmation appeared through an account that had absolutely nothing to do with his official Association identity.

The amount was very large. Larry read it twice, then he looked toward the others.

"Payment came through."

That immediately got their attention. Victor who had been leaning against the second vehicle straightened.

"All of it?"

Larry checked.

"All of it."

A grin spread across the man’s face.

"Finally."

Rebecca walked over.

"They didn’t try to reduce it?"

"No."

"So it’s confirmed?"

Larry locked his phone.

"The contract has been accepted as completed. That’s confirmation enough."

Several expressions brightened. Someone laughed.

"Then maybe this trip wasn’t a complete disaster."

Larry gave him a look.

"Keep your voice down."

The man glanced toward the highway; there wasn’t anyone close enough to hear them. Still, he lowered his voice.

"We’re in the middle of nowhere."

"We’re at a service station on a major Green Zone road with cameras around us."

Larry disconnected the fuel connector once the terminal indicated the tank was full.

"Those aren’t the same thing. Stop talking like an idiot."

Victor raised both hands.

"Fine."

Larry returned the connector to its slot.

Thirty million points.

The number still felt slightly absurd. Even divided among the group, it was more than enough to justify a great deal of inconvenience.

Especially considering how unexpectedly they’d discovered the opportunity. Silver Ruddington hadn’t originally meant anything to them.

When Silver, Ravenna, and Antony first joined their expedition, Larry had considered them exactly what they appeared to be: three lower-ranked Contractors useful for satisfying requirements and filling gaps in the expedition.

They weren’t particularly important, and Larry hadn’t intended to pay much attention to them beyond making sure they didn’t become liabilities before the group reached its real objective.

Silver had changed that.

There had been something familiar about his face. Larry hadn’t looked at him and suddenly known who he was. It had been one of those irritating feelings that remained at the back of the mind.

He’d seen that face somewhere, or perhaps a photograph. One of the others had eventually said the same thing.

That was enough for them to check. Not through the Association but through a different database.

The black market maintained information on people for all sorts of reasons. Contractors who had crossed the wrong organizations, researchers carrying valuable knowledge, merchants who had stolen from syndicates, fugitives, heirs, debtors, smugglers, witnesses, and sometimes ordinary people unfortunate enough to have someone wealthy willing to pay for their deaths.

They entered Silver’s name.

The result surprised all of them.

SILVER RUDDINGTON.

There had been a bounty attached.

Approximately thirty million points... for a Rank Two Contractor.

Larry had stared at the number for several seconds the first time he’d seen it because it made almost no sense. Thirty million wasn’t the sort of bounty normally placed on someone Silver’s rank unless the person offering it either had a deeply personal reason for wanting him dead or cared very little about money.

Larry hadn’t cared which. He hadn’t asked.

People who survived long enough while working around the black market learned quickly that unnecessary questions were dangerous.

The bounty existed and Silver matched the identity. The payment was legitimate and that was enough. From that point onward, the expedition had changed.

Larry and the others continued treating Silver and his companions normally. They travelled together, fought together, shared information, and behaved exactly as an expedition group should.

But the decision had already been made. Silver wouldn’t return from Death Row Valley. Ravenna and Antony complicated things slightly.

Witnesses were inconvenient. Leaving them alive meant someone could potentially connect Silver’s disappearance to Larry’s group.

So the easiest solution had been to remove all three at once. And Death Row Valley had seemed like the perfect place to do it.

Nobody would question three Rank Twos dying after voluntarily following a stronger team deep into dangerous territory.

The worm infestation had only made the opportunity better. Their original plan had been simple.

Once they reached the queen’s territory, Larry’s group would create enough confusion to separate themselves from the three younger Contractors. Silver, Ravenna, and Antony would be left behind as bait while the others moved toward the section of the underground system they actually wanted to search.

The queen would kill them; perhaps feed on them or simply tear them apart for entering its nest.

Larry didn’t particularly care.

Three bodies for an enraged queen might even have placated the creature long enough for his team to work undisturbed.

And what they wanted was worth considerably more than the Association’s extermination reward.

Diamonds.

Months earlier, rumors had begun circulating through less legitimate Contractor circles about a small diamond vein somewhere beneath the mountains around Death Row Valley. Nobody knew the exact size, and nobody had reliable coordinates, but several geological surveys had supposedly identified formations that made the rumor credible.

Even a small vein could be worth an obscene amount of money. Especially if extracted before the Association or one of the major companies officially discovered it.

Larry’s group had spent weeks gathering information, then the extermination mission appeared. It was almost too convenient.

The Association needed Contractors to enter the same region they already wanted to search.

So they accepted.