Brenda brought the car to a stop. Immediately they were surrounded by Black Guards.
Michael felt his breathing quicken. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“Keep it together,” Bevan whispered. “It’s just a check.”
“Everyone out of the car. Identification cards.”
The best credits can buy,Bevan had said when he handed everyone their fake identification cards earlier. That knowledge still didn’t stop Michael’s heart from beating a tattoo. He hoped the screaming panic he felt inside wasn’t visible on the outside.
Each of the Black Guards examined an identification card and the face of its corresponding owner. Then taking the cards, they returned to one of the white vans.
“They’re running them though the computer.” Bevan’s voice was barely audible.
“They arealright, aren’t they?” whispered Michael.
“I damn well hope so,” mumbled Brenda.
“What are they doing over there?” asked Rosemary. “No amount of credits is worth this.”
“Shut up,” said Brenda. “Here they come.”