Renee groaned when she fell out of the car door, even if in reality she had been shoved by the person she’d hitched a lift from “Yeah, thanks” the hero stated as she lay back on the sidewalk, patting herself for a lighter to give some attention to the bent cigarette that hung out of her mouth. It had been weeks since Renee had been back in New York, the cyborg had physically disconnected her tracking chip from the Livingston Labs tracking systems and had damn well yeeted herself to Mexico. The weeks that had passed were a tequila infused blur for the woman, full of cage fights and bad tacos. The hero scooted herself up into a sitting position noting that her left arm was hanging off and sparking, only then grinning when someone stood over her. “Come on, admit that you missed me. Just a little bit?”