The pain of last night was mostly gone, or at least dulled after a few hard drinks and two shots of Kickstart. What really hurt burned through the dull haze and Jacob fought the sting of tears in his eyes. The Shiver report he was holding trembled as he read the section confirming that the Gaff's butchers had done precisely as they said they had to Julia, but they had indirectly taken Angela from him too. Forensics matched a round from a Dark Night 8mm pistol fired by one Roland Connor to one that had gone through the wall and blown off her head. Jacob Harm was completely numb and wiped at his eyes as the tears started. It was all the Gaff's fault and he was going to make her pay for it.
"Don't be a baby, Harm," the voice chided and he nodded, turning to blow his nose and trying to regain his composure. "Gonna cry forever?"
Harm closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He didn't need this now and tried to push his emotions back into their cage.
"That's it Harm, let it boil down," the voice said. "You know what it becomes when you boil it down, don't you?"
"Shut the fuck up," Harm answered, realizing that he had said it too loud when the people in the bar started looking at him. Most of them turned away when he glared and he ignored the rest.
Of course he knew what he'd get when he shoved the pain down into a pot and cooked away the fat. You get anger and hate. You get motivated. And then you get even.
"Follow the magic," the voice said again and Harm took another drink. Figures were coming in the rain and he smoothed his hair back as he looked at his watch. They were ten minutes late, but their record looked like they' d fit.
The first figure through the door was a tall Shaktar named M'tt'kd'ct, Skull 8.3 and a Kick Murder Specialist. Jacob glanced at the appropriate dossier and wondered how the fuck a space faring race can survive without any vowels in its language. How in hell do you pronounce that name anyway he asked himself? Matt Killed Cot? Mitt kod Kit? He had no idea and no respect for anything that hisses, even if it was the squad's leader.
The second through the doorway was a Brainwaster by the name of Heretic, Skull 9.1 after an unfortunate "friendly fire" incident where he "accidentally" flamed the squad's Ebon I & I operative. Harm laughed to himself as he thought about how lame an excuse that was. After all, how can you take the time to run an impossibly complicated math equation and then incinerate the wrong target? Not too damn likely and the stupid defect had been dropped a full SCL point for it. Jacob scribbled the words "little penis" in the margin and flipped to the third member. To him, the title of "Brain Waster" should have been "Waste" instead.
This one was a human named Carson, a typical glory grabber who makes himself look good by running with inferiors like the others. The dossier looked promising, showing that he attended Orange Crush for Kick Murder and did quite well. Provided he survived, he would probably make Cloak Division or even higher some day. Harm laughed again because if the man was working with non-humans, he was a loser at heart.
The last member of the squad was a 313 Malice and Harm decided that it was apparently too stupid to come in out of the rain because the human (Carson was it?) had to go back for it. It shambled in after him, bobbing its stupid looking horse-faced head as it tried not to drip too much on any of the clientele. Harm thought how Karma really hasn't done itself any favor by producing such pathetic products. At least Vevaphrons make good whores.
Harm stood up and put on his game face as he waved them over. With the big lizard in front, they wove their way through the tables (of course the 313 bumped into nearly every one) and stopped in front of him. With his best winning smile, Harm extended his hand.
"You must be the Squad Love and Murder", he said. "I'm Jacob Harm, the financier who contacted you."
The lizard's yellow eyes fell onto his hand and then slid back to his face, but the creature was obviously unaware of basic civilities. Instead of letting it slow him, he extended his hand to the human, who shook it the way normal people do. The Brain Waster squeezed his hand hard enough to make him wince, but he didn't bother with the Stormer because he didn't want to get slobber or snot on his hands. After last night's injury and the Waster's squeeze, his hand was pounding and he subconsciously wiped it off on his leg.
"Please, take a seat," Jacob said, motioning to the three chairs in front of him. He had intentionally removed one two minutes earlier just to keep the Stormer standing and away from the table, but instead it was the Shaktar that stood staring at him. He was a little taken aback and the Brainwaster spoke up.
"M'tt'kd'ct doesn't sit with anyone he doesn't respect," he stated, in the typical tired growl that most of his kind used. "No offense, but you gotta earn it."
"I see," Harm said, smoothing down his tie and took a seat. "Well, I hope that I make a good quick impression because we're a bit pressed for time. Even though this is technically a White BPN, it needs to be handled like a Red."
His winning smile bounced off the Waster and the lizard like falling rain, but the human and the Stormer returned it. Jacob decided that his charm obviously wasn't meant for lower life forms and kept going, pulling the envelope from his jacket. It opened with a pop and he spread its contents out before the squad, selecting the snapshot of the little girl. Biting his lip, he began his delivery, feeling the magic coming back to him.
"This is my daughter Linda and she's eight years old. She was kidnapped a day ago as payback for something my wife did."
"What does your wife do, Mr. Harm?" the human (Carson?) asked.
"She's an operative like you," he answered, putting more emotion into his voice. "Her squad intercepted a transport of soft company contraband -weapons mostly, in Downtown, but the other side managed to find out their identities."
He looked at each of the squad member's faces, trying to read them as he continued. The human and the Stormer were already his, but the other two were going to be a hard sell. Maybe they liked him as little as he did them?
"The soft company is obviously hitting back. One of her squad mates was just recovered by LAD, another is missing, and one is confirmed as dead. Since my wife has been staying in Upper Downtown, she's been out of their reach. So they came after our daughter instead."
"What is her name?" The Shaktar hissed as it crossed its arms.
"I already told you. Her name is Linda," Harm answered, keeping the irritation out of his voice. He had so little patience for their kind.
"No, your wife," the alien continued, glaring with those ugly yellow eyes. "What is your wife's name?"
Harm hadn't expected to be cross-examined, especially over something that wasn't important but pushed his irritation aside as he answered.
"It's Julia. Julia Harm," he answered, the tension evident in his voice.
"Was the girl in your custody when she was taken?" The Shaktar continued. At that, the Waster turned to look at his squad mate and then looked back at Harm. Something was happening here that Harm didn't like, but he wasn't sure what it was yet.
"No. She was with a sitter," he answered. "My wife and I are separated."
That seemed to head off the line of questions and he tried to get back on track.
"The party responsible is located at sublevel 4 in the 533rd Quadrant of Downtown Sector two. It's a criminal who calls herself 'The Gaff' and a number of her subordinates, mostly Props or dishonored ex-operatives."
Harm thought that adding "dishonored" to the operatives might get a reaction and he saw a spark in the lizard's eyes. "Of course," he thought to himself. "Honor was exactly the way to get to this one."
"How many targets?" The Waster asked and from his voice, Harm couldn't tell if he was sleepy or just bored.
"Approximately seven including the primary target," he answered. "They are lightly armed and all covered under Extermination Warrant number H1069292 dash 334. Also, you'll get a bonus of 100 credits for each one killed, but the primary target-"
"-This 'Gaff'?" the human interrupted, sounding a little confused. Obviously, the close contact with these sub-humans had stifled his mental faculties.
"Yes," Harm continued. "The Gaff must be terminated with extreme prejudice in order to complete the assignment."
"What about the girl?" the Stormer asked. Harm let out his breath silently as he looked up at its big dopey eyes. It cocked its head and slobbered onto the table as he answered it.
"My daughter will be somewhere onsite, probably with a caretaker," he answered. "Please, Please bring her back to me in good health."
"You got it, Mr. Harm," Carson said enthusiastically as he looked at the rest of the squad, which nodded in acceptance. "When do we leave?"
"Right now," Harm answered as he stood. "I'm afraid that if we don't move quickly, they'll sell her into the Trade. I-I couldn't live with myself if I -"
Harm let the last part die in his throat as he feigned pain and looked at his feet. That extra bit of emotion seemed to do the trick and the squad rose.
"Let's go fry this bitch and get the brat back," Heretic laughed and the group moved towards the door. When they noticed Harm was following, The Waster turned back and Harm answered him before he asked the question.
"I need to be there when you bring her out," he said and the Waster nodded, accepting another lie to go with the rest of them.
"Paybacks are Hell," the little voice chuckled in his head.
"They certainly are," he answered as he stepping into the rain and followed the squad towards the subway.
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