She watched him struggle with that, reviewing their options—sadly limited—in his mind. Eventually his shoulders slumped and he nodded. She knew how he was feeling. Helpless, impotent. There was nothing he could do to help Sly directly. She squeezed his arm again, trying to communicate a determination and confidence she really didn’t feel. Maybe this is it. She couldn’t force the thought from her mind. Sly used to think that the next time she faced black ice, she’d get flatlined. And now she was going up against the best. And maybe a military-class decker too. Would Jurgensen be waiting for her when she decked in? Count on it, she told herself.