If a Ghost-Needle pierced the back of the neck, it caused instant death.
The most terrifying part was that it vanished into the body, leaving no wound and making the cause of death untraceable.
Anyone capable of wielding one was a master.
They just hadn't expected the assassins to use something so rare.
Mira carefully wrapped the needle, pocketed it, and calmly continued walking.
Owen stayed practically glued to her side, refusing to let go.
"Why would they target you instead of me?"
Owen asked, genuinely confused.
"The assassin was short. I was an easier target."
Owen was almost six-foot-three, while Mira had noticed the attacker was barely five-foot-seven; trying to hit a pressure point on Owen's neck through a moving crowd would have been incredibly difficult.
Since Mira was closer to the attacker's height, it was a much simpler strike.
"There's also the possibility that whoever hired them hates me more, or my bounty is simply higher than yours."
That explanation only made Owen feel even more frustrated.
"Then why use a Ghost-Needle?"
"They didn't want to cause a panic in the crowd. Or, they wanted to ensure that after I died, none of you could trace it back to them."
Mira looked up at Owen. "They know I have you and powerful backing behind me.
To achieve their goal without getting caught, the Ghost-Needle was their only option."
She held the wrapped weapon up for him to see. "This thing is made of a special biological gel. Once it enters the body and touches blood, it dissolves completely.
By the time they did an autopsy, even Master Ellis wouldn't be able to figure out how I died."
"Bastards. They specifically waited until we were in a dense crowd to strike."
Hank cursed in frustration.
In reality, Jax Weaver and the Iron Wolves had formed a tight protective circle around Mira and Owen as they exited the airport, and hired porters were handling their luggage while Hank kept watch.
Ethan, Beatrice, and Harvey quickly pushed their way through the throng to reach them.

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