“Kimber, I need a loan.”

“Whah?” I look up to find Marcella in my room, with zero alarms going off. I hate how much sense it makes to my groggy brain that my infiltrator mentor can do such things.

“Gods, Marcella. Did you at least order me coffee?” She hands me a cup and sits on the edge of the bed.

“And I could use your brokerage fund from the drugs.”

Last I checked there was more than 10k in that account. She needs that kind of grease on top of a loan.

“I love you sis, but we’re going to the garden for whatever this is about to be.” I get up, not bothering to put on more than my underwear. I take a sip of the coffee to find she’d spied my order to an Astorian place Zia recommended.

I take a seat next to my favorite berry bush and clear my aether-deficient head with a few.

“Okay, why do you need a loan and how much?”

“Vasily was running a rolling debt to keep some of the bigger players interested in us. Now that we have sanctions, they’re all coming due. And 35 grand would take care of most of it.”

It feels like I’ve been punched with as hard as that price tag hits me. “Marci, I don’t have that much un-obligated, even with the brokerage fund.

“I can give you twenty, and with the brokerage, you should be up to thirty. I should let you know, that my plans would need ten of that to come back to me.” I got 40k credits in spoils for firing the killing shot on the old Boss of Warram Criminal Enterprises, and a shitload of things (a handful were people?!!).

“Fuck, really? That’s great Kimber! I can sell off some of the professional gear that our crafter’s call cursed, and then I should be able to clear everyone of note that I can’t defer!”

I stare at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Fiine, what do you want in return?”

“Convince the crafters to talk with me. I could use a few positions, but I can’t accommodate all of them in a week.”

“I can definitely do that. You’re really saving a lot of people’s asses here, Kimber.”

“Oh! And you can look after my Settlement for a week while I go off planet.”

“Wait, what?! Kimber! Are you meeting with that arms dealer again? I want to have a few words with her.”

I chuckle at her protective sister behavior and love every word of it. So much so that I shift over for a hug. “I’m really excited to see Zia.”

She mimics me in a lovey, over dramatized way. “You’re infatuated with an Elf. Be careful, okay?”

“Do you know a way for me to get two levels in a week?”

“Kill people or go off-planet. Best xp I know. Other than that, get skill ups in as many areas as possible. I have a few jobs you could take that I don’t have time for?”

“I guess it depends on how much travel it requires.”

“Not much. The team you were with in Wembly needs--surprise surprise--a long gun. You’re also the only person I can think of that has a weapon that can do an infiltration/assassinate job without getting close.”

“I probably shouldn’t, but if they’re dirtbags, I’m in.”

“Stonewalling community bills for a padded purse.” My mentor says succinctly.

I ask her to sign me up for the job.

***

“Tennison, you Grizzled bear, how are ya?” I see the steely vet cutting an apple with a field knife while staring me down.

“You looking healthy and hale. You still using that heavy .308?”

“Nah, I have a Merc Arms fifty hypervol, using a new gunpowder.”

The bastards whistles with respect. “You take out the others?”

“Just Denning, the others can’t penetrate my armor at this range.” He nods at me again then his adam’s apple bobs twice: an obvious signal.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

I draw my weapons and leap away before the vet can finish blinking.

“Still fast as I remember. Seems like you, kid. Welcome to our staging base.” He gestures to an abandoned bus.

He seems content to wait on the others, so I pull out a collapsable stool, hand the bastard a sandwich and sit with a monster burrito and a bucket of hot sauce and tuck in. He nods in appreciation and digs into the deli sandwich.

When Harlow walks up, he seems peeved and a bit put out. “She bribed you with food?!”

“Nah, Grizzly and I have an understanding. He doesn’t shoot me, I don’t mutate his old ass, and we eat in treaty afterward.” We cheers our food in a surprise move of off-the-cuff synergy. “Admin douche still on the team?”

The team leader frowns, “Traded him in for some logistics twat. Fearless though.”

“Like me?”

“He said fearless, not reckless.” Tennison grunts.

“Hey!” I protest and the three get a laugh out of me.

Waller walks up with a grin on her face, and a pixie-cut blond under arm.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” I state, understanding that I was owed this pain for how I never kept in touch with her.

“KIMBER!” Bitch leaps at me an goes full monkey hug.

“Hi Jamie.” I pat her head. “I’m honestly surprised any of you recognize me.”

“Marcella sent your data, and Tennison saw the change first-hand. It was enough for us.” Harlow volunteers.

I point to the girl wrapping both my arms, “Restraints or overexcited supply twat?”

Three voices say in unison, “Twat.”

Waller adds, “I still fucking hate that word.”

“Any case. We moving on for a brief? Or is this a show and tell?” I tap Jamie’s legs in hopes that she takes it as a release sign, and to my surprise it works. Well, she lets go with her legs anyway.

“Both. We have a mark that’s supposed to be driving from The Springs to L.A., and there’s nothing but open desert for two kilometers over the nearest two hundred kilometers.”

“What’s my setup?”

“A van in a diner parking lot.”

“Lead time?”

“Twelve to thirty minutes. We suspect they have a spotter in the diner.” Harlow shoots me a data sheet for the itinerary.

I look and see that the Man is being driven, and that they seem to be treating it as a checkpoint offroad race. That, works to my advantage. If they aren’t going to deviate from the schedule more than a minute or two, than I can keep my rifle from wrecking too much.

“Alright, so head’s up, you need to be in the van or behind the diner if you don’t want to walk around with massive hearing protection. I recommend some muffs anyway. Or a t-1 helmet.”

They lead me to the van and show me the platform while we drive to the diner.

“So,” Waller asks, “How do you know Jamie?” Hidden motive? Are you fond of Jamie? I think maybe she is.

“I interrogated her for her enforcer practical. She did well.”

“That’s all you have to say after punching me in the boob for ten minutes?” She says, lazily tracing an invisible image on my leg. I should probably stop her, but I like the attention.

“I was told to consider what would happen if it were not an exam. Plus, you looked sad that I took food from you, so I figured I’d give you something to be sad about.”

“Daaaaamn. And you still talk to her?” Denning asks Jamie.

“Well, sure. She never injured me, she gave me the promised food after the interrogation. It was her job at the time and she wasn’t cruel. None of the instructors save Parker were.”

The name makes me look into her eyes. “Did he proctor your final?” She shakes her head. “Good. He has a coercion skill, and he’s a sadistic fuck.”

“So, little pyro, what have you been up to since Barstow?” Denning asks.

“Were we not in Adelanto, ass? Anyway, I became an Alchemist, my Track deals with Judgement, and I make a lot of drugs.” I look around and see confusion, “And I deal with contracts a lot. My track is confusing okay!?”

“Your track doesn’t deal with shooting?” Waller asks, suspiciously.

“No, but I want that in the tier up. Something like ‘The long gun of the law’ or some campy sheriff stuff. I like the idea of being the monster in the dark that works to protect.”

The rest of the van ride was filled with idle chatter and I am grateful that nothing of depth and import was discussed. Jaime made a point to stay in physical contact with me the whole ride and I could tell Waller did not like that, despite Jamie’s efforts to keep her engaged.

When we park opposite the lamp post at the diner, I tell the crew, “I need seven minutes to fully energize the shields and the enchantments on the rifle.” Two of them curse, but it was hard to discern direction.

Fifteen minutes out, we pull in and only Jamie stays with me. Twelve minutes, She’s thumbing a soothing motion on my calf and I start to calibrate my weapon.

Two minutes remaining, my shields are turned to energize and my max combat potential is engaged. While I settle in for ‘GO’, Jamie pulls my chin to the side and kisses me.

“For luck.” She says.

While it felt good, it also felt like a betrayal to Zia. I like kissing, and she doesn’t like that I’m not T-1. While Jamie would be a fun distraction, you’re going to be seeing your crush in a week. A week! For now, though, I take the sentiment for what it’s worth and let the endorphins sooth my nerves and relax into the trigger pull. Less than thirty seconds to go, and the car begins to change speed and position, seemingly random.

It's a loose pattern. I’ll load it’s driving personality, and it should fix the issue. If you focus, you can probably do it too.

A feeling at the bottom of my neck shoots through my extremities and I pull the trigger as if my limbs are connected by strings. The shield holds, the earplugs are overloaded and my head hurts, but my eye is glued to my scope, watching the car move into the freeway space in front of me. The front of the vehicle crumples and the round turns the whole vehicle before the front breaks off, the middle twists back, hits the road again without tires and bucks as the steel of the frame digs into the asphalt of the road. When the remaining vehicle pancakes into the road and then tumbles off. I can guarantee those two are dead unless they’re wearing armor.

/Do we confirm?/ I ask.

\Confirm what? That you made that up-armored vehicle a fortune cookie? No. We fucking leave.\

/Nah, I’ll take my bike. I’ll bug out and contact you tomorrow./ I stow my sexy rifle into my soon to be girlfriend’s toe ring and break out my bike. Ten seconds later the van is twenty paces away and my bike is ready. Jamie looks betrayed and Waller looks . . . turned on? Gods, I’m not the heroic dyke type of gay, sheesh.

Five minutes later, I’m glad I came to confirm: VIP is wearing T-2 anti-ballistic armor. It seems perfect for earth as energy weapons are not popular here. I push some plasma bolts through both the driver and the VIP and ride my sweet-ass bike into the sunset.