Downtown.
Sector 350. 6am in the morning. Not that 'night' and 'day' meant much this deep. The continuous sickly glow of neon replaced any visions of daylight the Grey ghosts that live here might once of had. In the heart of Sector 350 was The Warren, a labyrinth of passages and market squares, hemmed in by shattered industrial complexes and rotting apartment blocks, crushed and mangled, over seen by the shattered concrete, steel wire and metal walkway sky. This was the turf of the NightWatchers, the newest gang on the block, made up of the lowest, dirtiest street life rejected from the numerous other gangs in the sector. They had made The Warren their home and anyone who entered without their permission was either stupid, insane or hunted.
Torq was none of these, at least he would have said not, but at the moment he felt all three. As he surveyed the area he slowly shook his head, even a wet behind the ears conscript could manage an ambush in here. Torq moved forward, slowly, very slowly. The Blitzer in his right hand was held low, lazily swinging and twisting as he walked, seemingly aimed at nothing, close to slipping from his wet fingers. As he stalked from the shadows into the bright light, surrounded by darkness, he thought of how vulnerable he must have seemed. The rain cut through the smog, oily and glistening in the faint glow of the neon, bouncing noisily from Torq's coat, running in rivulets down his face. With his left hand he cleared his eyes, squinting as he tried to pierce the wall of shadow surrounding him. Meager glints from decaying walkways hinted at intricate metal surfaces, a few unbroken windows threw dull reflections on to puddles around his feet. Torq was aware of ghost like shapes lurking at the range of his vision, unmoving and silent. Torq began to breath deeply, trying to get the urge to run under control as he casually let himself get drawn in to the jaws of the trap.
A voice cut through from the shadows, deep and confident, almost a growl;
"that's far enough. Drop the gun."
Torq left his head down, face tight against the rain, "Now that really would be stupid, wouldn't it?" he replied.
Faint sounds of weapons being locked and loaded drifted through the air, a lot of weapons, then the voice again, this time not so strong, not so certain, "I said drop it you dumb ass."
Torq sighed heavily and slowly shook his head, "now if I do that, my partners are going to start shooting, and we don't want that do we?"
"You going to die my friend."Torq heard the call sign from Ferian, the Wraith Raider of his squad, float in over his headset, "they're not buying it Torq. I'm clear, Bing's waiting for you to move." Ferian would be precise, clean, but Bing! Torq suddenly caught a glimpse of a laser painted sight on his left arm, from there his actions were automatic, training cut in, he was running on instinct, no need to think about it, just do it.
Torq dived forward, bringing his Blitzer to bear at where he thought the gangers voice had come from. As Torq began his move, Ferian fired, his Fen Tri silently blowing the head of the gang leader wide open. From deep in the shadows Bing opened up, trigger lock, hosing enough 10mm to put down a nest of Carrien. By this time Torq was rolling, hitting the floor and coming up firing. The ground around him jumped and spat with bullets bouncing off walls and walkways. Between the gangers and Bing Torq figured he would just keep his head down, rolling for the cover of the trash at the alleys wall, eyes barely focused, he fired blind in to the darkness. Thoughts flashed through his mind as the world around him seemed to move in slow motion.
They were just a stupid street gang, fresh on this turf and going nowhere fast. Bing was out and reloading, Ferian would have picked his target for a 'live' one by now.
Stabbing pain burnt in to Torq's left leg just above the knee, snapping him back to the real world and his surroundings. His body crashed to the ground, covered in filthy rain water and piles of garbage from an upturned bin. Torq suddenly realised the thunderous sound of gunfire had stopped, he slapped in another speed loader and waited. Nothing.
It was all over in about a minute. Torq let his head fall forward and cursed himself for letting it get out of hand like this. Pulling himself up against the wall, he holstered his Blitzer and shot Kickstart into his bleeding leg, hoping the bullet had passed through but knowing better. Out from the shadows stalked Bing, he kicked a few of the gang's bodies over, his grin said it all, "they real stupid and real dead," he snarled.
Torq did a quick body count, those he could see anyway; nine corpses littered the alley.
"Yeah, shame. I needed to talk to 'em," Torq said.
Ferian's voice came over the head set, "I'll be with you in about two minutes. Bing, I'm coming in from behind you."
The Stormer nodded his understanding, assuming the Wraith Raider could see him, he didn't think to answer over the comm., he was too busy searching for a live one among the wreckage.
Bing smiled then motioned to Torq, "I got one Torq, sneaky little shit got a CAF vest on."
Bing dragged the near dead ganger over to where Torq was sitting, the Stormer's huge hands completely encircled the kids leg which was bleeding from a thigh wound, "I got some Honesty, you want I should stick it to him?" Bing said.
Torq rubbed the rain from his eyes and shrugged, "Nah, I better try to catch him before he pops."
Bing propped the ganger up against a wall next to Torq, then turned to his squad leader, crouching down he looked closely in to Torqs eyes, "you ok?" he asked quietly.
Torq felt good, the Kickstart was working, his leg seemed to tingle, nothing more, "oh yeah," he said, "let's get down to it." Torq moved awkwardly over next to the ganger, evaluating the kids wounds. The little bugger was going to pop, too much blood loss and the thigh wound, small though it was, was just one of three.
Stupid kids. What did they think? That Torq would be here on his own, to meet with a whole gang? They were naive beyond sympathy, they got what they were asking for, it was just a matter of time.
Bing stood up, he scanned the area for other survivors and for Ferian. He holstered his AR, involuntarily flexing his claws as he stood guard over his squad leader.
Torq held the gangers face in his blood stained hand, turning it from side to side, "You in there kid? Can you hear me? Hey, listen up, you want some help, you better start talking."
The ganger opened his eyes, unfocused, uncaring, too close to death to worry about the outside world. He saw Bing through blood stained vision, a bestial demon from some twisted nightmare, all snarling teeth, muscle and claws. Torq's face, smooth and clean, friendly, inviting almost, was moving, trying to say something. But it didn't matter, not now. They could all just go take a flying fuck.
Torq watched the light fade from the kid's eyes, "he's dead. Shit."Torq stood up, brushing the sweat and rain from his face, pushing his hair back, "I think we may want to get our stories straight on this one," he said looking at Bing.
Ferian came out of the shadows, his Fen slung across his back, scanning the scene, appraising his work and studying how it could have been better. Six of the eight gangers had leg wounds, each in the upper thigh, though you might have missed them on account of the other wounds, spaced indiscriminately all over their bodies. The Wraith Raider stood close to Bing, looking up in to his bestial eyes, Ferian frowned, "Bing, I got six with leg shots. How come you couldn't manage one?"
Bing towered over Ferian, a picture of menace, teeth bared, claws flexing, then he seemed to calm, his voice came low and steady, "I thought Torq was in too close, he wouldn't have survived much longer, not enough time to be picky about me shots."
Ferian started to say something, then thought better of it, he looked to Torq for conformation. Torq was leaning heavily against the wall, head down, obviously in pain. Ferian returned his attention to Bing, he nodded his understanding, the matter was now closed. He moved over to Torq, assessing his leg wound. Nothing too serious. "We got company, I saw a Third Eye crew over on eleventh, should be here in about a minute," Ferian said.
Torq sighed, "Oh yeah, just what we need. Anybody feeling talkative?"
They all looked at each other. Ferian and Bing both grinned, no need to say a word. Torq would handle it. He always did.The Calaharvey slid to a halt, the rider leant the bike over while the camerawoman dismounted. Sterling in hand, she was in Torq's face before he could finish composing himself, "Jude Hicks, Third Eye. Looks like you boys need some help cleaning up this mess, what happened?"
Torq smiled, he hated vultures. He pulled himself up, fighting back the pain from his leaking leg, "Shiver units have been alerted, there is no cause for concern, we will have this dirt off the streets before it can cause any problems."
Ms Hicks casually waved in the direction of the dead gangers, "You want to elaborate on how this 'dirt' got here?"
Torq looked the anchor woman in the eye, avoiding the camera, "We are currently assigned to a White BPN from the...."
"A White!? Well, let's hope you never respond to a Red!"
"Look lady, they were helping us with our investigation, then they just got downright unhelpful..."
"So you killed them all...."
Torq tensed, a tight lipped smile failed to appear on his stern face, "Look, like I said, we were carrying out an investigation. Anyone hindering a SLA investigation can expect to come under the closest scrutiny. These boys tried to kill us. They shot first, we finished the job. End of story." Torq smiled his best Third Eye smile and glared into camera.
"This is Jude Hicks, Third Eye News, sector 350." The newswoman lowered her camera, "sorry guys, live slot, just managed to push into 'Tag 'em and Bag 'em', thanks anyway."
Torq nodded his understanding, "always a pleasure," he lied.The Third Eye crew mounted their bike and left, tearing off through the rain towards the perimeter with Cannibal Sector Three.
Bing began calling it in, directing the Shivers to their location.
Torq sat down heavily, tentatively rubbing his now stiffening leg. Rain fell down his frowning face, bounced off his bleeding leg, spun circles in the growing puddle gathering around him.
Ferian slipped a BleedOff round Torq's leg, "better get you some attention, I think the bullet is still in there."
Torq snapped out of an apparent daydream, "Fucking useless CAF shit, no power. Why can't they ever use 10mm. Shit goes straight through, mostly," the Kickstart was wearing thin and Torq began to feel the pain. Bing brought the squad GAJ into the street and they all climbed in to the semi-armoured vehicle. Bing drove, Torq sat in the back, lost in his own thoughts, Ferian taking up position at the rear firing hatch.
As they pulled clear of the alley, a Shiver clean and recovery unit swung passed them, by mid morning there would be no signs of any of them having been here.The Emergency Room was full, as usual. Bing helped Torq push his way through to the Operatives area, uncaring of the comments and looks from the other 'citizens' who had been waiting far too long already. Torq sat on a bench and bled while Ferian propped himself against a Choco-Vend machine and played with his GameZone. Bing sat next to Torq, seemingly unaware of his surroundings, his eyes closed as he began to hum to himself.
The medic dug the bullet out, sealed the wound and charged them. Twenty minutes later they were back in Torq's uptown apartment.As Torq expected there was a message on the machine, the screen displayed the Cloak Division clearing pattern, then hissed into life. A friendly, almost smiling face greeted them, a calm, reassuring voice oozed confidence through the speaker, "sorry we missed you. Can you come down to see us? I'll expect you at seven thirty."
Torq went to the fridge to dig out some cans of Slosh, looking at the wall clock he shook his head, it hadn't worked for as long as he could remember, what the hell time was it anyway? Ferian sat cross legged on the pile of bags that formed one of the two chairs in the front room of the three room apartment, Torq lingered near the fridge, "that gives us two and a half hours to get a story together, any suggestions?" he asked.
Bing turned round from tuning in the TV, his face dancing with the light from the tube, "we aint got nothing to hide. Let's just tell 'em the truth."
Torq smiled and took a pull from the beer can, "yeah, that should work," he lied to himself.They all sat watching the TV, each concerned with their own thoughts. Torq studied the other two, noting the total lack of concern on their faces, realising they trusted him to get them out of another tight spot. Both the Wraith Raider and the Stormer looked as if they hadn't a care in the world.
Torq began filtering information relating to the BPN, working through what he could and shouldn't say, assessing what they would know anyway and what he could afford to keep to himself. Slowly he picked his way through the maze of information, constructing a defense that would sell.The two Darkfinders met the squad at the main security doors and escorted them to the interview room, neither spoke or gave any sign to show why Torq, Bing and Ferian had been summoned.
Torq worked through some of his ideas in his head as they trudged through the dimly lit steel corridors. Bing would just tell the truth, Stormers could do little else when faced with Darkfinders. Ferian would probably just tell them what he thought they wanted to hear, the Wraith Raider was an accomplished liar, with a cold logical style that fooled most humans, maybe even Darkfinders. Torq smiled to himself, maybe he could come out of this with something, after all, how bad could it be?
Torq studied the two Darkfinders, looking for clues, trying to assess which was the real enemy. As they reached the interview room, the woman stopped by the door, motioning them to enter, the other preceded them in. 'That's it', thought Torq, 'it's her, she's the danger....'
The interview room was nondescript, bare concrete walls, metal table, tubular plastic chairs, large vid-screen on the opposite wall from the door. Bing peered in to the room before he entered, not seeming to mind the annoyance he was causing the DarkFinder waiting to following them in.
As they sat at the round the table, the woman entered and sealed the door with a numeric code, a small red light appeared to flicker on the camera situated high in one corner of the room. Both Darkfinders sat without speaking, then both turned to view the screen.
As it flickered in to life, Torq studied the faces of the Darkfinders, finding nothing of use in their stony, glazed expressions, he turned to face the screen.
The screen glowed pale blue, then came to life with the Cloak insignia and the slogan "we mean business". Nobody needed telling this. Cloak's reputation preceded it with all it's dealings with Operatives and citizens alike, if you were dealing with Cloak Division you knew they meant business and your life was probably in the balance. The vid-screen flickered with pictures from surveillance cameras, low quality images showing scenes from could have been any Downtown street corner. A gang was assembling, taking up positions behind trash compactors, walkways, burnt out cars, low walls, anywhere they could fins cover. The viewing angle changed, shot from at least five cameras, Torq frowned, he had only counted three cameras, he noticed Ferian briefly look towards him, confirming his suspicion, some of this footage probably wasn't genuine.The scene unfolded pretty much as it had done out on the street, with Torq coming in to view, a brief exchange of mumbled dialogue, the exact words couldn't be heard, then a frantic but brief firefight. Again the camera angles changed, showing some close ups of gangers going down under a hail of automatic fire. A brief period of calm followed, then you could clearly see Torq and Bing standing by the soon to be dead ganger they had questioned. More changes of camera angle as Ferian joined them. Then the footage shot by Third Eye, a hasty interview with side bar information being flashed through the story to confirm location, time, the number of gangers suspected killed, an additional touch Torq didn't like very much, compromised squad security, especially if it was a live broadcast. The screen faded to black. Both DarkFinders turned to face the squad, the male spoke, "my name is Gore. I have been authorised to file the report on the White BPN you were working on for the Department of the Environment."
Torq noticed he said 'were' rather than 'are'. Bad sign.
Torq made the show of correcting the DarkFinder, "of course. I should inform you that we are still active on the BPN and would have made our regular report as well as included a full report of the incident we've just seen in our closing report to the Department."
Gore smiled, making them all feel uneasy, "you are no longer assigned to the White for the Department of the Environment…."
He left the statement hanging, looking to each of the Operatives for a response. None of them was that stupid. Bing looked the DarkFinder straight in the eye, expecting clarification, Ferian seemed to be smiling, nodding his head slightly as if in expectation, Torq nodded his understanding and acceptance. The female DarkFinder rose from her seat, looking them over she seemed to have come to a decision and decided to act, "my name is Sirbed. Do you want to know why you have been taken off the BPN? And by the way, the BPN is listed as incomplete, your SCL's have been reduced accordingly, the relevant fine, 300 credits I believe, will be docked from your accounts by the time this meeting is over…."
Torq shifted slightly in his chair, his voice calm, relaxed even, "we are of course curious as to where we failed."
Sirbed looked to the screen, which flashed to life with a close up portrait of a ganger, obviously dead, his eyes closed and a slight blood stain trickling from his partially opened mouth, "this is, or rather was, Joseph Bassett. Recognise him?"
They all shook their heads, Torq knew they were being baited, as they all did, but none bit.
Sirbed continued, unconcerned at their lack of response, "Joseph was an SCL 7 solo operative, quite successful up until this morning, he was working a Grey at the time of his death, a Grey sponsored by us. Do you want to know how he died?"
Torq knew what was coming. The colours on the shoulder flash suddenly hit home, the gang they had met in the alley. Shit. This guy was SCL 7? And he got caught in crossfire? Not that successful then…. but that wasn't going to help them.
Sirbed looked at each of them in turn, she knew she didn't have to spell it out for them.
Bing sighed, his huge frame sagging forward as his head dropped slightly, Ferian seemed to be smiling to himself, Torq sat forward in his seat, folding his hands on the table in front of him to stop them shaking, "so. We fucked up. And now you want us to take on the Grey?"
Sirbed smiled, almost sweetly, "Exactly. I presume you are open to this arrangement?" Sirbed sat down, pulling a data slug from inside her long coat, she tossed it on to the table in front of Torq.
Torq looked at the slug, leaving it a moment before he took it, checking with a glance at the other two that they agreed with the offer. Bing and Ferian stared at the data slug.None of them had a real choice. That was how SLA Industries worked. If there was one thing that could sum up the whole of the impossibly huge corporation and the world it ruled over in one, short, sharp slogan, perhaps that was it: no choice. And yet the whole of the vast machine that was SLA Industries, was geared to convincing those that lived and worked in it's gargantuan World of Progress that choice was everywhere and everything, that everyone's life was complete because they had so much choice, that they, as consumers, and their choices, drove the whole economy of the universe. Choice. They had a choice. Every single person within the SLA Industries World of Progress could choose.
Bing and Ferian raised heir eyes, looking at Torq, both nodded imperceptibly.
Torq took the data slug and pocketed it.
Sirbed rose from her seat, motioning to the door, "good. I shall officially assign the squad to the BPN. Have you decided on a change of name? I understand you have filed a report to change from 'MindSet'….
"We haven't really decided. We will file the new name by midnight tonight," Torq said.Both DarkFinders escorted them to the main doors of the building, walking with them in silence, daring them to speak, which none of them did. At the doors, they nodded courteously to one another and parted company. Once in the street, none of them looked back or spoke until they were safely inside a Blue Cab.
The large Blue Cab pulled out in to the heavy traffic, crawling along behind a massive transport, a KilCopter roared past over head, scattering the airborne traffic in front of it, the robotic driver swiveled in his fixed seat, turning to face the squad, "someone's in a serious hurry, going to be trouble somewhere," the driver said cheerfully.
"Just shut up and drive, drop the conversation," Torq said absent mindedly, staring out of the window.
"OK, you're the boss." The Cab driver shut up and began humming quietly to himself.
Each of them looked out of the window, watching the world crawl slowly by, the crowded streets, the heavy traffic, the incessant rain, it barely scraped in to their thoughts.Eventually Bing said what was on all of their minds, "Purge is going to be really pissed about this."
Torq frowned, unable to hide his obvious agreement, "no shit."
"Oh yeah," Bing continued, "she's going to rip you a new ass-hole."
Ferian looked at Bing, "a new ass-hole? Or maybe she'll just put one of his eyes out."
Bing smiled at Ferian, who grinned from ear to ear.
Torq was managing to not see the funny side in all this, "if I'm lucky," he muttered to himself.Eventually they reached Torq's apartment. They all went up, knowing that they had business they put off sleep until they could afford it, first things first. The data slug. And a new squad name.
The new squad name was easy. Purge had left them with instructions. She had decided on the name and they had all agreed, it was largely irrelevant to the rest of them, only Purge was really conscious of it's importance and cared enough about her image and reputation to come up with something media friendly, yet slightly more enigmatic than most. Pendulum. Bing and Ferian had no idea what the deeper meaning (if any) was, and Torq just knew it was short and easy to say in interviews.
Torq dialed in to the SLA DataBase, registering his SCL and accessing the secure Department of Employment site, it took three SCL card swipes from separate members of the squad to confirm the name change, the squad list confirmed the four of them as 'Pendulum: active on Mort, awaiting assignment'.Now for the assignment.
Torq tossed the data slug to Ferian who began loading it up on Torq's communications system, it would take at least five minutes for the Cloak virus killers to check out the system and un-encode the data in to a useable state. Ferian stayed by the system, typing in confirmation codes and swiping their SCL cards as required.
Bing went over to the window, largely ignoring the TV which was tuned to GoreZone, some gung-ho Contract Killer was being filmed live as he went down an open storm drain, chasing a Carrien that had ripped the head off one of the Third Eye camera crew covering the event. Bing snorted in disgust, one Killer in the sewers, no back up? Should be a short fight. Bing rubbed the inside of the window with one huge clawed finger, clearing a space through the condensation, peering out he looked up, past the neighboring tower block of apartments, "I heard some workers in the Pit talking about a Thresher strike on some of the atmospheric processors, reckon it could stop the rain if they take two of them out."
Torq laughed, "sure, and I could grow wings and save a fortune on Gauss Train fares…."
Bing carried on regardless, "I heard that the Thresher took out a tower last week, on the outskirts of Cannibal Sector One, and that it's been covered up by Third Eye. You think they'd do that?"
Torq brought three cans of FruitShock through to the TV area, throwing one to Ferian, he gave the other to Bing, standing next to the Stormer, looking out the window with him. Torq knew Bing was basically loyal beyond question to SLA Industries, he was biogenetically engineered to be that way, but he also knew that all Stormers were quick learners, "well, you know, if it's true, I'm sure Third Eye would have put it on the news. Big news like that…." Torq left it hanging. Bing stared out the window, thinking this through.
"It's in, we can see the full depth of our troubles," Ferian announced.
Bing sat on the floor facing the comm.'s unit's screen, Torq sat cross legged on the sofa, Ferian remained near the screen, his own Oyster on his lap, ready to take notes.
"Wait!" Bing almost shouted.
"What!? What the…." said Torq, who had almost choked on a mouthful of FruitShock.
"I'm starving. Let's order pizza," Bing said, reaching for his cell phone, "what shall I get, you two hungry?"
Ferian considered this, "I am actually very hungry too. I fancy some fish," he said simply.
Torq realised that none of them had really eaten properly during the day, which was a sign of the seriousness of the situation, when Bing and Ferian forgot to eat it was time to check their toe for a tag, "good call, whatever you want is good, spicy and no fish for me."
Bing barked his order over the phone then seemed to relax a little.Ferian began running the data slug, making sure his Oyster was recording the audio for his records.
The screen flickered in to life with the Cloak insignia, then a close up of Sirbed's face, a cold steel wall in the background, her voice was strong and calm, "Please pay close attention to the following presentation, this data slug is a one use variant, the hard copy for the BPN and the Termination Warrant will print out shortly, please keep these safe and use them in any future communication with Cloak Division."
Torq noted Ferian flicked a switch on a converter plugged in to his Oyster, the Wraith was piggy backing the print signal, getting two copies. Neat. Illegal, but neat. The printer spat out two copies of both the BPN card and the Termination Warrant.
Sirbed continued, "you are to travel in to Downtown to make contact with a Sleeper Shiver Unit, they will take you in the direction of your target. You must serve the Termination Warrant within seven days and return to Cloak Division for a de-briefing, bringing with you data slug and DNA evidence of your completion of the BPN. As the following footage ends, you will be presented with hard copy of the BPN data files, which remain the property of Cloak Division. Good hunting."
The screen went blank for a second, then began to flicker with images from Third Eye programs, GoreZone, Slaughter House Six, Killer, Last Man Standing, and some stock news footage taken from incidents in shopping malls and transport centers, bus stations, Gauss Train stations. It all featured the Contract Killer 'Jester' doing his stuff, putting on a show as he went about the business of dealing death to corporate enemies and subversives, all in the name of SLA and all caught on camera. The pictures ended with a close up of the Contract Killer in mid strike against a Carrien, obviously pulling off a called shot, decapitating the huge beast in one fell blow with his ChainAxe.
The screen showed the Cloak Insignia and went blank, the printer silently spewed out the BPN hard copy.Bing was the first to speak, intently watching Ferian neatly gather and fold the BPN hard copy, he said, "Purge is going to go fucking ballistic."
Ferian folded paper with one hand and typed in to his Oyster with the other, watching his computers screen and occasionally nodding as if in agreement, "I think that is a safe assumption. Cloak Division? Downtown? An assassination BPN? Just about covers everything I've ever heard her say she hates."
Torq finished his can of FruitShock, "I need a real drink," he muttered to himself.
Bing took a set of notes for the BPN hard copy from Ferian and began reading, Ferian read his Oyster screen, scanning the BPN details and committing them to memory. Torq went to the kitchen and dug in to his only food cupboard, finding his hidden bottle of Brandy tucked out of sight behind cans and cartons of instant 'pap food'. Wiping the neck and top he pulled the top off, he took a long swig straight from the bottle, trying to get himself together before he went back and spoke to his squad mates. He took another long draught from the dusty bottle, replacing it back in the cupboard. Digging a can of Slosh out of the fridge, he returned to the sofa, watching as his two companions read through and dissected the BPN information.
After a few minutes Ferian looked up at Bing, who was rereading some sections and flicking backwards and forwards through the BPN hard copy, the Wraith Raider smiled at the Stormer, "so, what do you think? A good hunt yes?"
Bing nodded his agreement, "the only sticking point may be the Sleeper Shivers. Not sure about them, heard lots of bad things about them going native."
Torq nodded, as much to himself as to them, "so, how bad is it?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
Ferian closed his Oyster, retrieving his can of FruitShock he finished it before he began his summary, "well, the way I see it, we go to Downtown, find these Sleeper Shivers, get them to take us to the encampment of this Jester, who has apparently set up some kind of suicide cult, serve the Termination Warrant, get the hell out of their and hope we can outrun his insane followers."
Bing agreed, "basically it's very do-able within a week, providing we can get these Shivers to show us the location of Jester. Not too complicated. Lower Downtown of course, but that's it's own set of challenges."
Torq drained his Slosh, "I'm obviously not drunk enough for this conversation."
"Perhaps we should go to a club and do the job properly?" offered Ferian.
"Yeah, kind of a last supper for the condemned man…. Purge gets back tomorrow…." Bing pointed out.
Torq considered his comrades suggestions, "wise words," he said, "OK. Fuck it. Let's go get hideously drunk."
The intercom on the front door pinged in to life, a squeaky uncertain voice grated through the speaker, "3 Minute Pizza, delivery for a Mr. Bing?"
"Pizza dude," said Bing, grinning wildly.
Ferian agreed, "Slosh base."
Torq thought of Purge, "I think I'm losing my appetite."SLA Industries sells many thing, every thing in fact, things you do not even know you need until they produce and advertise it, but the thing they push harder than anything is lifestyles. SLA knows that part of very Operatives lifestyle is socialising, and being Operatives, doing it in style. The Sector of Uptown where Torq lived had well over a thousand bars, clubs and essential places to be seen on the Operative smooching circuit. Like everywhere within the vast city-scape of Mort, there were places to cater for all tastes, all budgets, all races.
Torq did not feel like anywhere too hectic, and did not want to travel, a mission to get wasted was one thing, but the impending Grey could not be ignored. Ferian knew the streets of the Sector as well as any Operative, he knew what their requirements were, so they decided to go with his choice of the Club Methuselah, an up and coming bar near the center of the Sector.
Within an hour of leaving his quiet apartment, Torq was tucked up in a corner of the extremely noisy club, drink in hand, surveying the controlled madness around him. There were bars of course, eight in all, and each with it's own central stage or dance floor, set below the surrounding balcony of tables. Lights, smoke, noise and cloying humidity. The place was heaving with gently bobbing bodies, moving to the vague rhythms from one of the dance floors, all shouting in each others ears, trying to hold impossible conversations, each person doing the 'social scene' rounds. There were mostly Operatives, dressed to kill in their latest street fashions, mixed in with the richer corporate employees, rouging it, getting a sense of danger from mixing with the Op's.Torq waved an oncoming stranger away from the two spare seats at his table. Looking out on to the packed dance floor he could see Bing, arms flailing, head weaving, jumping around to the gut wrenching bass beat. Ferian was not far away, moving like a snake, swaying, then darting out in some intricate hand gestures, his eyes were closed, his body seemed to move of it's own accord.
Torq smiled to himself. Two of his closest friends. Two of his only friends really. Being an Operative did that to you, stripped you of unnecessary relationships, partly out of necessity through lack of time, and partly through a need to know who you could trust. The Stormer and the Wraith Raider had become closer to him than any of his childhood friends had ever been. Closer than his family. Torq allowed himself a quiet moment of reflection in the middle of the deafening chaos.
His concentration was broken by Bing and Ferian bounding up the three steps to the area where the table was, leaping in to their seats, grabbing drinks and downing them in one.
Bing was twitching, eager to burn of some more energy, "good night. Enough Stormers and Frothers to make it interesting."
Ferian nodded, unzipping his waistcoat slightly to access the main control slide for his Coolant Suite, "it's hot though. This thing is working overtime."
Torq shouted above the noise, "more drinks?"
Bing and Ferian nodded, both grinning their approval.
The music suddenly stopped. A low bass rumble began, slowly mingling with a dull, bottomless drum beat, Bing and Ferian pricked up their ears, then looking to one another, they both jumped from their seats and dived out to the dance floor. The floor was filled with Stormers, Frothers, a few brave Brain Wasters and Wraith Raiders and some foolish Humans. The music exploded. The band, Freak Kitchen, spat out their rendition of an old Mort favourite 'Bleed', faster, louder, harder, than anything Torq had ever heard. He shook his head, only Stormers could think of this a 'music'. The dancing became frantic, bodies clashing, more like a demented brawl than a dance floor. It wasn't long before the Stormers were the only ones out there as the track reached it's climax, the injured crawling off to drink their wounds away.
Torq caught the eye of a passing waitress, waving his hands over the empty drinks on his table and gesturing for two of everything. The waitress nodded and wove her way off through the bustling crowd.
Torq saw Bing and Ferian, both flat on their backs in the midst of an apparent fit, as the music changed to a deeper, trance beat.
It was going to be a long night.
The waitress returned with the drinks, Torq raised his glass to nobody in particular, "fuck it." He downed his drink and headed for the dance floor.NEXT
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