2094 UNPC Universal Calendar.

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Tim "The Terror" "B1" Wright

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Executive protection wasn't my first choice of "deployment", but it was the one I got roped into. Fairly easy, I won't lie. All I was doing was standing in the windowless office, making sure the guy sitting behind the desk didn't vanish up his own ass, even though we were in a very well guarded installation.

I had taken my helmet off, and sat it on his desk. I'd grown tired of listening to the chucklefucks on the private security detail go back and forth with some dumbass conversation over the radio.

I didn't have my primary weapon on me, it sat in a pelikan case in my barracks room, and I felt an odd sense of loss without it in my hands.

There was a commotion in the hallway, and me and the guy behind the desk looked at each other.

His expression was of worry, mine was of annoyance.

I sighed, "Get under your desk," I said, opening the door to see just what in the good god damn was happening.

Just as I opened it, I was met head on by someone running full tilt. Granted, I was wearing 250lbs of ECA, so they just bounced off of me with a thunk, splaying out on the cheap commercial glue down carpet.

They'd hit me in the left shoulder, and I was a little off kilter as they scrambled to their feet.

"DON'T PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME, YOU BIG HERMAN MUSNSTER FUCK" They screamed, pointing through the door.

"Yeah fuck you too," a familiar voice said.

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"Anton?" I asked, looking away from them, and at who was standing in the hallway just beyond the door.

"Oh, hey Tim" Anton said, raising a hand in a sort of waive.

"FUCK OFF YOU LURCH LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER" The guy screamed again, scrambling away from Anton, and into the left part of the room, relative to the door.

"I don't think he likes you," I told Anton.

"No shit?" he retorted, making me chuckle.

Anton moved towards the guy, who saw no way out, and instead chose to throw a haymaker at Anton's helmeted head.

He didn't even bother to block it, and the guy's fist contacted the alloy of Anton's helmet with a sound akin to hitting a beer keg with a baseball bat, and I knew that had to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Seriously?" I heard Anton hiss through his helmet speakers as he manhandled the guy, throwing him to the ground and putting him in a pair of flexcuffs.

"YOU GODDAMN FRANKENSTEIN COCKSUCKER" the guy screamed as Anton put one hand at the back of his coyote brown shirt collar and the other on the belt of his uniform pants.

Anton hauled the guy to his feet, all while the guy was screaming obscenities at him.

He tried to run away again, but as Anton's arm extended just past me as the guy pulled, I saw that he had his hand on his bound wrists and the guy's belt, meaning he wasn't going anywhere.

I opened a pouch on my chestplate, and ripped off a strip of OD Green 100mph tape, and slapped the strip over the guy's mouth as Anton helpfully held his head in place.

"Thanks" Anton said, dipping the chin of his helmet slightly.

"No problem, what's with this guy anyways." I asked, hooking a thumb at him.

"Augmentation psychosis" Anton shrugged, sighing.

I chuckled, "What else is new?"

A equal height augment, female by the shape and design of her ECA, stomped into the office.

"Day late and a dollar short, as usual" Anton chided in a "I'm giving you shit" tone.

He turned to me "This is Charlie Seven, my partner," he said.

"ooooh, partner" I said, "you're moving up in the world" I said as the guy tried to run again, still trying to spew obscenities through the green tape.

C7 stepped over, and grabbed the soon-to-be augment from Anton, and marched out of the office, dragging the guy with her.

"Lurch looking motherfucker" I chuckled softly, remembering what the guy said.

"Bite me" Anton chuckled in response, stepping over to the doorway, and grabbing the doorhandle.

"Cya" he said as he closed the door.

I laughed softly, and pinched the bridge of my nose before turning back towards the desk.

"You can come out now." I said.

He got up from under the desk, shakily, and breathing heavily, his eyes wild. "What was all that about?" he asked.

I shrugged, "None of my business."

Good job, Lurch.