the smuggler’s bible

Hiro

For all the distance you can travel on the back of tradition, sometimes it just can’t get you across the finish line. Hiro takes a slow walk through the clean, white facility. Machinery rumbles in the walls as it sucks fresh air down a mineshaft.

“How deep does it go? All of it, I mean.”

“First of all, I don’t admit there’s more than you’ve seen,” the lieutenant says. “Officially.”

“Uh huh.”

“Three miles, give or take.”

Hiro considers that. “Dynamite the elevators,” he says after a moment. “If it wants to haunt the rubble, I say we let it.”