When I caught up to them (yes I have to do a lot of that), the squad had managed to scamper along like dumb dogs without finding anything.

"I can't believe we lost the son of a bitch!" Gere spouted.

Considering that he couldn't find his manhood with both hands, a pair of 5 uni shatter-pumped hookers, and a film crew, I didn't expect he could track anything anywhere even if it was 10 feet tall, painted fluorescent blue, and wearing spotlights on its ass. If he could, I guess he wouldn't have lost his Blitzer when we started this thing.

"I think I saw something that wa-" the cameraboy started, but Sara ignored him and started talking. She's a lot like a hood ornament on an Augustus, pretty to look at but not worth much in the long run.

"Shut up honey, we're the professionals here!" she snapped and turned to Gere. "Gere, check the right, Mitch go left, and Clipper, you're on point!"

I cackled since that is what they were doing anyway and she stiffened.

"What, you're narrating for the T.V audience now?" I asked with a smirk.

She looked at me and pointed her finger, like that was supposed to be intimidating. If she were only a little closer, I would have bitten it off and spat it back. At least the hood ornaments on cars don't talk back.

"Em, if you're not going to contribute, please be quiet."

"Sure thing," I said and started to snicker again. Oh yeah, I was supposed to be quiet while everyone else got to act macho and paranoid.

Now, standing in the middle of a 4-way split isn't my idea of a way to stay alive and I felt like this was a trap so I stayed back where I was. When I pulled back the hammers on my gauge, Fenis caught the loud click and turned on his Claymore. He must have felt something was about to happen also, but I never thought it would have come from Cash instead.

"Well kiddies, I think it's about time I sprung my little surprise," he started. He was gloating and I knew this was going to be aimed at me. The bastard would pay for it if it was.

"Hey, I see something!" Gere said and Mitchell glanced back. "It looks like a suit of Powercell or something."

I giggled again. You'd think that someone with a subscription to "Guns, Armor, and Hardware for Impotent Men without Dicks Weekly" would be able to tell what the hell it was he was looking at. Since I wasn't standing at the 4 way, I couldn't see down the passage and had to occupy myself by kicking the head around with my foot. In the meantime, I did my part by glancing behind us occasionally, just to make sure that no fluorescent blue ten-foot tall monster with spotlights strapped to its ass snuck up on us. God knows that Gere would never see it coming and I shook my head.

"What were you saying Cash?" Sara asked. "If it's pertinent to this mission, I think I need to know right now!"

Mitchell left his position and vanished down the right passage with Gere covering him with a FEN hair dryer and a lamp. Oooh yeah, that would help if some big creepy crawly jumped on him. Fenis took a few steps forward and being a team player, kept an eye on the left branch since no one else was.

"It's a partial suit of Powercell and it's been beaten up pretty badly. Looks like there's something else here."

"Watchit," Clipper said. Now there's a "life form" who is worthy of using slang and contractions. Actually, it's pretty impressive that the stupid hunk of meat ever learned to speak, but it's not really its fault. My Mother said that my Dad was a head lab tech in Karma (in addition to other things like Slayer's right hand man, an ambassador to little green aliens, and a superhero depending on how tanked up she was) and couldn't do anything right anyway. I'll just blame this screwed up waste of biogenetic flesh on its creators and considered the bright side. A lot of them get shipped to War Worlds to fulfill their destinies as potting soil, so they're not a complete waste.

"One of your team members has a very dark secret," Cash started again. "So dark and serious, that it's grounds enough to remove their operative status."

Fenis glanced back at me then leaned back around the corner, but Sara began to look around. She stared at Gere, the cameraboy, then turned to yours truly. Wonder why she'd think I would have something to hide?

"It's even dark enough to have them put away for a really long time, in a dark cell, where they can't hurt anyone, ever again."

Sara's eyes locked with mine and I gave her my pretty smile. Ok, so you got me I said with my look and I calmly put my shotgun over my shoulder. In the distance I could see the light from the manhole that was designated as our exit and wondered who would be the first to go for it.

"There's something wrong here," Mitch said in his 'oh shit, we're in trouble voice.' "The armor has a Custom paint job and says Undertow, but it's a really cheap job. Hell, the armor isn't anything more than scraps and there's no body. What the hell is going on here?"

"Hear somethin," the Stormer rumbled and I heard him start a chainaxe. Why the hell he'd want to get close to anything down here is beyond me, but then I'm not a dumbass overdosing on testosterone.

"You!" Sara said and stepped towards me. "It's you! Isn't it?"

I slipped my hand into my pocket as she got closer and touched the razor. OUCH! I had left it open and grabbed the blade again. Now the handle was going to be slick and my hand was really stinging. I really have to learn to be more careful with sharp objects.

"IT'S YOU, ISN'T IT?" she demanded with her hands on her hips.

"You look lovely tonight, deary," I told her when she got close enough to look down at me and a puzzled look crossed her face. She really did look more beautiful than I'd ever seen her and I wanted a moment to remember her that way, lowering my filter mask and smiling up at her.

"YOU'RE COMPLETELY FUCKED IN THE HEAD, AREN'T YOU? OH GOD, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT! DAMN YOU CASH, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL US? YOU BASTARD! YOU SETUP THE DAMN SQUAD IN THE FIRST PLACE!" she yelled and looked up at the ceiling. If God was up there, I doubted he really cared what she screamed about. Considering the amount of staring at the ceiling and screaming she does, she ought to know that God probably has learned to tune her out by now.

She had such a beautiful throat, the color of a pure mother's milk. What a beautiful image. I'd remember it always.

A roar and a whine split the air, loud enough to make everyone pause and everyone but me shudder, because I was caught up in the moment. It was followed by a gunshot and rapid blood-curdling screams that echoed from the side passage. I guess Mitch was right that there really had been something wrong with that armor, but it was too bad he didn't listen to his inner voice telling him to get the Hell out of Dodge. You know, it's not such a pity when pretty things get broken after all, especially when they bring it on themselves.

I saw Gere flinch and drop his lamp as he started firing and looking like he was about to dump in his pants. Sara snapped back around and I whipped my arm out, catching her as she turned.

Warmth splashed across my face and hand, catching me in the mouth and I saw her as she stumbled back. I had been wrong. The look on her face as she fell gurgling into the muck - now THAT was the most beautiful I'd ever seen her. I closed the blade since I didn't want to accidentally cut myself again. Running with a straight razor is even worse than scissors, because if you get caught with scissors, they only think you're a danger to yourself. Scissors obviously have a better PR department.

Clipper let out a bellow and ran down the right passage to start hacking whatever it was that had probably shredded Mitch. A moment later, Fenis nodded at me and vanished to the right to join him, but Gere stood quivering and rooted to the spot. Oh yeah, he was a real man all right!

It's sad that no one was looking for Sara yet, but then they sort of had other things on their minds. I saw her eyes pleading with me and stepped on her shoulder, pinning her under the muck while I listened to the fight. Eventually, she stopped clawing at my leg, but the sounds from the right kept going and it sounded like something was having a lot of fun. I probably should have run for the manhole cover when I had the chance, but I had to know what the hell was over there and held my ground. Yes, I was still standing on the rapidly departing Bimbo, but hey, it was better than standing in the muck. Granted it probably wasn't nearly as clean, but the silicon pontoons made dandy floats.

Gere finally broke and dropped his pistol, scared shitless and turned towards me for encouragement. I waved him forward like an adoring mother and he nodded, splashing forward like a terrified kid. Giggling, I toed the head I'd been playing with and rolled it onto the top of my foot.

"Heads up, asshole!" I yelled and kicked it at him as hard as I could. It hit him in the chest with a wet splash and he caught it and screamed. Unable to let go, he screamed again, stumbled sideways, and tripped over Sara's body. It was hilarious, at least to me, and I watched him crawl back the way we came on his hands and knees.

It's such a pity to see a strong man like that whimpering, so I walked along next to him and slung my shotgun. Throwing a leg over, I wrenched his chin upward and looked into his wide eyes and kissed his forehead. He froze, terrified and I savored it.

"Enjoy it fucker, it's the closest you'll ever get," I said and used the razor again. This time I didn't get anything on me and he died nearly instantly. Damn, I shouldn't keep this razor so sharp, but that's the way my Daddy likes it.

The cameraboy came running up to me screaming something incoherent and I put the razor away. Nodding and trying to keep him from giving me a headache, I turned him around, pointed towards the manhole cover, and gave him a push. As we crossed the 4-way, I looked down the right passage and saw a metal monster, all hooks and saw blades tearing the arms off what used to be the Stormer. The thing was actually using one of the Stormer's legs to beat the torso. How creative.

"Wow, so that's a manchine!" I said. Now that was a truly hard SLA product that I could respect. I watched for a moment and felt a little concerned when I didn't see Fenis anywhere. Of course, the plaid covered pile of chum around the manchine's feet probably shared the same DNA as my Frother buddy, so he was accounted for.

Making it to the ladder, I slowed as I realized Cash was yelling. Putting in my earpiece and reseating my mike, I interrupted him. Like most of the squad, he didn't seem to be having a good day.

"What is it dear?" I asked and my soft tone made him pause for a moment. At least it gave the makeup crew a break to catch up. The cameraboy tried to climb and I absently pulled him back down like a mother keeping her child from running up a rusty fire escape.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING DOWN THERE?"

"We walked into a manchine's ambush, but it's over," I said and started climbing. The boy had the balls to shove me off the ladder and began to make like a monkey again, so I sneered after him and made up my mind.

"Who's dead? Who's-"

"Can't hear you, low battery power. I'm coming up."

The cameraboy was already half way up the ladder and obviously dejected over his failure to get laid by Sara, so I decided to grant his wish. I pulled my gauge and backed up, aiming a bit low. Squeezing one trigger, the boom was deafening and buckshot ripped chunks of concrete free around him. He fell screaming into the water at my feet with mangled legs and I snatched his camera, slinging it over my shoulder.

"Okay, NOW you're fucked," I said as I put my shotgun away and began to climb. At the 4-way, I saw the red eyes again and heard pistons hissing as it lumbered closer. I waved it forward and pointed at the bait at my feet, noticing that the ugly bastard had already peeled the Stormer's face off and stretched it across its metal faceplate. I shook my head at the bad choice and fired my other barrel at it just to show I didn't approve. That got its attention and it came pounding forward with a screech.

"YOU BITCH!" cameraboy screamed and I stomped his hands one more time as I climbed to the street.

Cash was there with his PR crew and ran up to me with a worried look on his face.

"Sara and the others, are they." he asked but didn't finish his sentence. I hate when people try to be dramatic by not finishing their sentences.

"What do you think?" I asked and looked down. The cameraboy was still trying to climb the ladder while the manchine was snickering and pulling him off again. I aimed the camera down and absently listened to him screaming like a rat in a blender, but heard other sounds that I couldn't identify. Curiosity got the best of me I couldn't help myself, so I had to watch. Cash stayed back from the opening and looked at me with barely controlled horror.

"So, motherfucker," I asked. "You sold me out, huh?" There was a group of men waiting for me and I recognized a couple of them from the retrieval team that brought me back in the last time. I blew one a kiss and he flinched. I guess he remembered that I have sharp teeth and strong jaws. Wonder if his manhood has grown back yet?

"Well, I thought that a little balanced team conflict would help to build some interest and give good footage."

"Uh-huh," I said, still enraptured by the manchine's technique. Wow, it was just like a rat in a blender after all.

"So, no hard feelings huh?" he asked with an uncomfortable smile. "I mean, sociopaths like you don't really have feelings do they?"

"Nah, not at all," I said and shifted my stare to him. "We are just unforgiving, vengeful sons-of bitches."

His smile melted and he started to back up, so I grabbed him by the hair and bonked him in the nose with the camera. A trickle of red shot down his shirt and he tried to hold his nose and his 500 uni haircut at the same time, instead of keeping his balance. If it wasn't for me, he would have fallen in and the retrieval squad stopped their charge when they realized he was pretty much a hostage. I shook my head and smiled because they REALLY should know me better than that by now.

"Well, asshole, I'm Cashing YOU in."

I jerked his head down toward his ankles, flipping him forward, end over end into the sewer. He screamed all the way down, but I think the manchine was gentle and broke his fall. I tried to hold the camera on him to record it for posterity, but some jackass slammed a hypo into my neck and the world spun away into darkness.

When the dark blur became a light blur, then faded back to gray, I looked around at my cell. It was the same damn padded room in the same smelly little world and I rolled my eyes in disgust. My father looked down at me holding his closed straight razor in his hands and I thought how much I would have loved to have hugged him, but the straightjacket was tied to the wall, so I couldn't move. God, I hate when they do that. It really pisses me off.

"Julie, my dear, you shouldn't have stolen my razor again," he said as he knelt down in front of me. "It belonged to my Father and it's one of my few worldly possessions that I care about."

I love his eyes, so deep and gray like a Mort sky. Tears beaded in my eyes as I smiled at him. I love him so much that it hurts, just like any child should love their father.

"My name is Emily. Emily Morgan," I said. I don't know why he keeps forgetting my name. I wish he were teasing me, but I know he actually believes it. You see, he isn't exactly all right in the head.

"Now dear, Emily is my daughter's name. Your name is Julie and you're not my daughter. Also, your last name isn't Morgan and you need to try to remember that."

"Ok," I said. You have to be patient with people his age, since they forget who their own children are at times. Even though he needs psychological help, I love him dearly anyway.

"We were so worried about you," he said in that fatherly voice he uses and I felt heat across my chest and face. I noticed that he wasn't wearing his nametag anymore and wondered why, but then I remembered that I had lifted it the last time he wore it and used it on the men in white. No matter really, since I didn't need a reminder that we had the same last name, regardless of what he said.

'Thanks."

"Are you going to try to run away again?" he asked. "That would upset me so much if you did."

"I wouldn't want to upset you."

With that he knelt down and pushed my hair out of my eyes, then gave me a shot through the canvas shirt. I watched him go and let my breath out, tracing the pattern of the skylight on the floor in front of my toes.

No, I won't try to run away again.

Unless I get bored.

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