Olivia's POV
Six hours later, we touched down in New Delhi.
The heat hit us the moment we stepped off the plane, even at midnight. Humid and heavy, so different from Tokyo's cool spring air.
A car was waiting - another black Mercedes with tinted windows.
"Hospital?" the driver asked in accented English.
"Hospital," Maxwell confirmed, sliding into the back seat beside me.
Kennedy pulled out his phone and dialed. "Kira? We just landed... Which hospital?... Okay. We're on our way."
He hung up and relayed the name to the driver, who nodded and pulled into traffic.
New Delhi at night was a different world. Even at this late hour, the streets were alive - rickshaws weaving between cars, street vendors still selling food, the smell of spices and exhaust mixing in the air.
"How did she sound?" I asked Kennedy.
"Tired. Scared. But coherent." He glanced at me. "She'll be glad you're here."
