The first engine died before the convoy had gone two hundred meters beyond the bridge. Its driver hit the ignition twice, then looked down as the steering wheel locked beneath his hands.
The Ironvale confiscation notice spread from one dashboard to the next. Fuel gauges froze, cargo locks sealed, and the road-company access cards Kendra had captured turned gray in their holders.
"It is taking the vehicles one at a time," Sella said. "Not destroying them. Removing their control."
Kendra saw the pattern. The freight core was waiting for a vehicle to cross into Ironvale authority, then stripping the driver's local access and assigning the engine to a recognized carrier who was not present.
"Move the working trucks around the dead ones," she ordered. "Nobody gets out unless the vehicle is on fire."
