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We left the port as silently as we sneaked in, not daring to even breathe until we were a hundred meters away from the Protector, separated from his hiding spot by a row of shipping containers. Not knowing what else to do, we retreated back to the concrete tower, exhausted and disheartened. Now that I had retrieved the money, there was no point in climbing to the top of it, but we did it anyway, perhaps for the illusion of safety that being so high above the ground would grant us.
Back in the windowless, claustrophobic office, we sat with our backs against the wall, trying to come to terms with the circumstances. I was trying to keep a brave face, but in reality, my mind was on the verge of panic.
Mickey looked to be his last leg, though.