Back at slayers crib. I had hoped that our first time would be the last in this hellhole. Slayers crib, where only the dumbest suckers hang out. Those who didn´t read the memo, and know that the facilities at Station Analysis and Third Eye Hall are that much better. And on top of the cake – we are scl 11.9 – the laughing stock of the whole BPN hall. That guy Jim Jimbo Jameson, or whatever his name was, is of cause late again. It´s becomming too much. Even for me. Insight has put him on ignore, and I think Apnea has put him on her “things to smash” list. We´ve been told that we´ll get some new additions to our rack tack cirkus group. A human scout and a Shaktarian Deathsquard – I haven´t heard of him, but he must have attended Orange with me, but different class. We meet them at the hall, but since Jim is still a no-show, we still can´t get our freaking BPN. I start to write him a message. There´s alot of ways to tell a guy that he ain´t wanted, but i opt for the nicest. Telling him that if he´s got a problem getting up in the morning, it might be a medical problem, that he should get treatment for. I also recommend that if he´s more of a nocturnal persona, he might consider becomming a ten-percenter or game promoter instead. Though I do think myself as a nice guy, I still get angry, but you gotta be smart: If this guy comes out as a succesful buisnessman, he could place some serious load on your sholders if he´s got a grudge against you. About 20 min later we all get the memo from central, that Jim has been released from operative duty – now how about that? Never seen SLA bureaucracy work that fast. Guess he must have had a truck full of complaints hanging on him already. Though it´s not fair. I can´t help but kinda blame him for our failure on the first one. I mean if we hadn´t been late, we might had been given another BPN. Well, no need to dwell on the past. Now´s a fresh start.

Back in line. Fingers pointed at us the whole time. Slayers crib – home of all the suckers. And we are the guests of honour. About an hour into our waiting time, two guys infront of us gets into a fisticuff. One of them somehow smuggled a makeshift knife in, and starts to put decoratives holes in the other´s chest. You guessed right. A frother and a brain waster, who doesn´t even make it to triumf over his kill before the security sentry guns has taken him down. After the Darkfinders have removed the corpses, things turn a tad more quiet – even we are almost left alone after the incident.

The phone rings. It´s Shiver IA corporal Sanders. The guy who had our ass for a 12 hour interogation, and who will probably have us recommended for firering or termination once he finishes his report. “Meet me at the scene of the crime – asap” that all he says. I can´t really place his voice; is he distrated, reluctant or scared? Quite weird from a guy with his job. Not much else to do but to follow his command. If he was going to have us killed, he would just have sent for Cloak. No need to drag our sorry asses to sector 613, just to have us shot against the wall. “what´s going on” the new guys asks. I can´t really tell them. If I try to explain what went wrong i might end up looking even more dumb than what our SCL badge portrays.

Sector 613. Our place of misfortune, or “Waterloo” as they say on New Paris. At the warehouse they have already repaired the fence and sealed the hole in the building with that same insta-drying foam they use to close breaches in the sewers. Thers no one to see. No operative team on guard duty. The shack is also gone. No need securing the building – whatever they took was all that was worth protecting. Empty, and dead silent. Even the rain is dropping slowly today. “There´s someone standing by the support pillar, at 10 o´clock”, our new scout drops down and takes aim. Damn that kid got eyes! There´s about 600 meter to the nearest corner of the pillar, and even with my scope I can´t see jack. “He´s wearing green”, says the shaktar. Must be our guy.

We stroll over to him. The scout stays back; though Corporal Sanders is a SLA official, this has “set up” written all over it. when we are about 10m away from him – good range for engagement - he calls us out. “Hear me out. That´s all I ask for. Im sorry that I made you fail your first BPN, and had you interogated. But I want to make it up to you. I have a proposition”. Something isn´t right. He´s leaning up against the wall in an odd manner, and he´s head keeps bumping slowly back and forth. “Why are we meeting here, and not at the Shiver station? And why would we trust you?” Insight yells. Louder than necessary. As if the corporal was further away. His attention isn´t focused at Sanders, but more like the general area. “Just hear me out”, from the shadows a man steps forward. He´s got a makeshift armour consisting of several pieces of Body blocker and reinforced with some PP7, plus a scout helmet. He´s got a gun trained at the Corporals head. It´s a CAF, but the barrel is obviously larger than 5mm. “Im the guy you met yesterday night.” In a split second Insight got both his pistols pointed at the newcommer, who doesn´t seem nervous about the situation. He´s obviously been sightseeing down barrels before. “First of all I would like to emphazise how glad I am that no shots got fired during our heist. We needed the loot from the warehouse, but we have no intentions to harm you”. Did he say we? Of cause he did, I knew it already. No one would be stupid enough to put himself in a situation like this without backup. I raise my hand and tell Insight to take it easy. While I look at him i check to see if he´s got a red dot on his head – none so far. “I believe we have a common interrest. I wish Mr. Sanders here far away, as do you – unless you want to go far away yourself. I know me and my men cost you a deduction in both payment and SCL, but I hope to fix that”. While he speaks he removes the gun from the Corporals tempel, but reasserts it later. He´s obviously trying to build up confidence, but I don´t know if I dare give it to him. On the other hand – we´ve already been listening to him for too long, meaning that if Sanders survives this thing his gonna have our jewels as toppings on a cupcake for not taking the shot earlier. Besides I don´t know how many targets are still in the dark. I let go of my gun and let it hang from the strap, as I ask him: “What´s  your story with our common friend?”. “...I´ll tell you. My name is Blush. That´s what the crew has always called me. Couple of years back we were Shivers – damn good Shivers. But to be good, you got to be smart. And in 613 that means having superiour firepower. Back then this cocksucker was only a private. He saw the opportunity to climb the ladder, and he kicked us across the face as he went up. The Shiver IA suspended me and my team, while promoting this punk. We still serve our sector, but now as a Monach. We still got some good friends in the force, that´s how we were able to pull that stunt on you”. I had thought they were Red Marauders, and Im still not convinced otherwise: “What did you take from the warehouse?”. “Food. Our whole patrol grid is suffering from starvation, and both DN and the gangs are recruiting hard from the youth. Promise of a full belly, can make a man change his view in an instant. The warehouse was stored with crates of Karma protean for stormers. A single can of that stuff can feed a fimily of six for a week. We prefer serving everyday food over serving the last supper for these kids.” He takes off his helmet, no sign of deciet in his eyes. Out from the shadows comes nine other guys, all dressed as he. Makeshift armour and modified browbeaters. We are outnumbered and probably outgunned. Still they got their weapons hanging from the sholder and Blush doesn´t seem to expect Insight to shoot out his brains. One of them puts a syringe to Sanders throat. He collapses, though he´s still up against the wall. He´s been hanging from a nail all along. Insight lowers his guns: “Ok, make your proposition”

(...)

1 day later, we got a new BPN in Sector 613. I got the greatest sister in the world. Pulling strings, and not asking too many questions. I can´t really tell her what it´s about. She´ll be more safe not knowing. All she asked was if it was worth it. Sadly I couldn´t tell her, mostly cause i didn´t knew. But if this didn´t work out, we would be doing sewer maintenance for the rest of our lives, which probably wouldn´t be long anyway. Ironicly enough she pulled us a Blue maintenance. It was alright. Fitted quite well into the whole plan.

Meet up with the “Sanitational inspection technician” – hope HE know what the fuck that covers. All we had to do was follow this guy around while he and his gadget made mapings and stuff of the sewer. We sent our scout up ahead. Mostly to make sure that our plan with Blush would run smoothly. I started asking all kinds of stuff about the equipment and the layout of the place, to get him distracted. It soon turned out there was no need. He was all eyes and ears on the monitor anyway. Suddenly we hear shots fired up ahead. Everyone rushes forward, finding our scout surprised by a big ass mutated rat. It´s the size of a large dog, with pointy daggerlike teeth and shit. It goes down after taking 4-5 10mm HEAP and a power claymore to the face. “What the fuck was that?” says Insight in disbelieve – I don´t think they got these fuckers on Polo. “I found it´s nest. Must have heard it´s spawn scream as I booted them” – our scout tryes to wash off the blood, but since all there is down here is sewege, it doesn´t ecxactly work out for him. I can´t really figure this guy out. He doesn´t talk much, but he hasn´t said one thing about our questionable agreement with Blush. Nor has the Shaktar. Either they just trying to go with the flow, or they are Cloak waiting to kill us once they uncovered the whole deal. But then again, what kinda cloak agent would opt to be wearing nothing but striker armour down here. This guy must be real retarded or has cracked the good fortune cookie. The technician comes up to us, and takes a quick glance at the nest: “Altered rodents are quite common down here – better get on with our sweep before the mate shows up”.

This is a good time. I send a text to Blush, telling him to drop the ganger down one of the manholes we passed earlier on. He calls me up: “you want him squrming or recent?”. “...recent, don´t want any surprises” I whisper – can´t let inspector gadget overhear too much. I hear the familiar sound of a pascifier baton crack open a skull in my earpiece, right before Blush closes the conversation. Then I hear a hollow thump as the body is thrown down to us. Me and the scout pick up the pace, while i signal for Insight to start stalling the technician. We come to the junction. A ganger in KT colours is lying twisted on the grating. His faced has been worked by a gauntlet or ten. He´s no more than 14 years old, but if these Monachs are the vigilantes they claim to be, he had it coming. Still i can´t help but feeling guilty, that this kid had to die in order to make our plan work. I smear out the blood from his face across my knuckles and hands, before I pick him up and and toss him over the shoulder. 3 min later the rest of the team shows up. Though my helmet masks my face, my voice still sounds nervous. I tell them that we´ve found this punk, and interrogated him, unfortunately he died as a result of that. “So what do we do now?” says Apnea, fishing for me to finish my lie. “Uh...He revealed the location of a ganger hideout. I´ll call up central and get permision to do the follow-up”. Once I finish my sentence the adrenaline rushes over me. Im not used to lying, but im not naive. Though our father never told me and my sister what he had to do, I know he had to push the bounderies and bend the rules somethimes in order to get things going, back when he was a SLOB. This was just the first time I had done it myself. The technician stares at me for quite some time, but he doesn´t say anything. What could he say? Sure, that 3½ min we were gone wouldn´t make this guy spill his guts about some random hideout, which I couldn´t possibly know about beforehand, and what was that KT doing down here anyhow – we had already checked that manhole he come through, and it was sealed then. He knows that theres is something odd going on, but he also know that it doesn´t concern him in any way. He climbs up the ladder and check the manhole again. As he passes me, he takes a good look at the ganger, but continues his survey.

Insight makes the call to central – we are put on hold. Blush wan´t to know whats going on, but I don´t know anything just yet. After about 1min we are told to meet up with another team nearby for a joint operation against the hideout. Fuck! This thing could jepodise the whole plan. We need that other team distracted, cause central doesn´t trust us doing anything on our own. I look at the others, and for some reason I feel like they all look to me for the answer – I was after all the guy who was most keen on this whole idea. “Blush?, I need you to make a Red somewhere close, but none to large”. “You got it – just get the fuck out of that sewer”. Four seconds later we hear a surge. Booming sound rises up through the system like thunderclaps in a toilet booth. The grating starts to shake. “Stormflood!” shouts the inspecter as he pushes his way past me and rushes to the exit. I got no idea of where im going in this maze of pipes, intersections and sinkholes, but I sure hope that he does. I toss the dead body into the water witch has already picked up speed considerably. He has played out his part, and is now litterally just dead weight. All run for the exit. Certain death rolling our direction. I hear the echos crashings through the pipes like a tsunami in tight quarters, as I climb the ladder. Safely sitting on the pavement again, trying to catch our breath, we look at each other without saying anything until the technician finaly says: “Well, guess that concludes the day. Can´t go back down there before tomorrow when everything has settled and an extermination team has cleaned up all that survived the flashflood. Good luck with that follow-up thing”.

Back to that follow-up thing. We get the message that the other team has now been sent to deal with the sewer and that we are free to “advance on opportinity”. Blush gives a quick layout of the building and an assessment of the threat. It´s on the corner of a housing project. The corner of the building has been destroyed a couple of years ago when fire Shivers accidently rammed the wall. Now it serves as a drug stall, complete with hang-around wannabees, junkies, and a makeshift lab. There is supposed to be 6 gangers in the first room, and two others out in the back. Time to get cracking.

I would have thrown a concussion into the first room, and the rest of the team would had cleaned the place. That was our plan, but as we walk down the street, some young snitch calls us out. Screaming “slobs” and making a run. By the sound of his voice I think he would be about 9-10 years old. Our scout drops to his knees and takes a quick popshot at the unarmoured kid. He falls flat to the pavement, his blood slowly washed out by the rain. Plan B: fuck em up. Apnea rushes forward with Insight. Theres no way I can keep up with a Wraith or a drug machine. I realise that even though im not on Orange anymore, im still the slowest in the group. I place the granade on my magplate and grab my gun, as I scuddle down to watch the dust settle. Im still 30m away when I hear the first couple of rounds released in the small room. People screaming. Apnea screaming higher. As I enter the hideout, the other three are already in the next rooms. Apnea has managed to stab a man through the door he was trying to block her out of. I catch a glimpse of another ganger further in. He´s holding a naked young girl, using her as a hostage. I don´t dare taking the shot. Might as well hit the girl or Apnea. The guy lets loose with his 10-10, hitting our frother in the shoulder. She moves in. Grabbing his shotgun, while impaling him to the wall. The naked girl rolls off, and goes for cover behind a bed with nothing but a dirty matress on it. As i come closer in to check that all is cleared, I notice that the girl is not alone. There are about 6 naked people trying to find cover in this small room. A video camera has fallen off it´s tripod, but is still recording. “Clear”.

“We are ready for the drop”, I say as I check that none of these bitches aren´t just faking death. Insight looks at me as he asks: “Is there anyone who is to survive this?”. Just to state the obvious I laugh as I say: “The hostages”. Then he opens fire on one of the girls. Not well placed, but still deadly. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” I yell at him as Apnea lays a hand on his shoulder. “What? I asked, and I didn´t get a response. At least not one that made sense” he says. I can´t figure out if he´s for real or he´s trying to piss me. Haven´t gotten used to wraith mimick yet. “It made perfect sense. The hostages were to live. And besides, I didn´t actually thought that would be worth saying, since I thought it was a matter of course!” I still can´t get my voice down; total disbelieve of what just happened. I keep the worst of my temper down, figthing to tell him how much his name betrays his character, but I know that it ain´t gonna do any good yelling insults at each other. “Then what should we do now?” he asks. “YOU started the mess, YOU clean it”. I leave the room. Can´t watch him kill innocent people, but I haven´t got any other real choice than to just look away.

Blush and his crew rolls in with the APC. “All good”? he asks me as I light my cigarette. “Yeah, mostly. All targets down, minor bruises on our side. There´s a bathtub in the back, you can put Sanders there...-about what you said with your regular supplier being dead and all. I can get you the 10mm you talked about. I can´t supply all your crew, but I could round a few things for you. How about that?”

(...)

Oh yeah baby. Payment on the sewer BPN and SCL reduction + SCL reduction for that last one that went sour. Everything ads up to 90c and im at SCL 10.2. I made a contact. Not sure that I ever need a modified gun like theirs, but now the opportunity is there. I owe my sis a big favor, but hey – it stays within the family. On top of it all, pulling this risky stunt proved than none of us are chipped. Always good to know. Third Eye here we come