Bower is too busy to hear what the man in the corner is saying.
Sliding his hand along his right forearm, Bower finds and depresses a part of his arm. Like a cover on a monitor that blocks the screen controls, a door pops open and reveals a GPS tracking system.
Fidling with the system for a moment, bower frowns.
He checks it again.
The screen shows his location as in his office on the 34th ST floor of the pentagon. This most certainly is not his office.
"Electromagnetic pulse." bower announces.
The man in the corner looks up "huh?"
"before they caught us, they set of an EM pulse. my GPS is frozen. We'll have to find some place with the supplies i need to fix it."
Official coiner of the term "Aresen"
for my work: www.s1dc.com
for my life: joe.s1dc.com