“After this, I am going to rip you to pieces.” My face stayed straight as Tayanita said that. It was something that took every ounce of will power I had. The night was cold, and I could feel my pale face start to redden.

The street leading to the club was dark by purpose, though outside we could hear the expected Halloween hustle and bustle. “The shutters are down,” I never associated this building with silence, but Tayanita informed me, “The shutters are down because it’s closed.”

Saying that, she put her key in the door and opened it. The blackness was overbearing, and I turned to look out to the streets one last time. Out there was only a crowd of bored youths on a bad road, in there were men just like Belfast. It was not a place where I should show my face.

“Come,” Tayanita ordered.

“Where else am I going to go? Home?” I entered the dark with a smile.

This hallway felt familiar, so was the man overlooking it. He was stout and bald with a misshapen nose, “Aye Tay. Rori. How’s it cuttin,” he said in a northern accent.

“Never better,” Tayanita answered. I asked, “You out here all night Patty?”

Patty the bouncer gave a surely nod, “Nah. Just till ten. I’m sure the boss can handle her guests.”

Tayanita seemed proud, “Like a wolf handles cats.” I had to peel my ears to hear it, but there was definitely noise coming from down the corridor. It was harder than the usual music of the Quarter.

Tayanita walked on, hands tucked into her puffer jacket, I stopped. “Hey, Patty, you’re a good guy...” I produced Twenty euros from my pocket, “-I owe you this... for the trouble we’ve put you through.” He accepted it with pause. Money was money. I would have advised him to leave early, but then he’d have been taking the money as a bribe.

Twenty euro wasn’t nearly worth the damage he got on the night I met Clover, but whatever. I was getting loose with money, but not bad enough to throw it around.

“Thanks mate,” he said, none the wiser. He looked after me for a moment, I could feel his eyes, “What’s in the bag?” he said finally I grabbed at the straps, ready to show him, like I had to give him proof.

Tayanita only laughed, “What do you think?” With that he looked away, and I left with a backpack full of cocaine squarely on my shoulders.

We walked through lifeless rooms as the hellish roars from the back got louder. Once again Tayanita was opening the steel door for us to enter, thought it wasn’t the same hall as the one she opened on my first night in the Quarter nearly a year ago now, I couldn’t help but think back to that moment.

She gave no warning, no rattle of keys, the entry to that world opened easily to me now.

There was a harsh flood light beaming down on a square arena that had been constructed tight in the middle of the room, it was surrounded by the trusted goffers and soldiers screaming for blood, while their bosses and guests watched on from booths. Raised alcoves in the walls surround the crowd and square in a circle.

I’d been here before with Tayanita, but they had built the stage for this occasion. I looked around to the booths first, seeing not just the regular Mountain soldiers, but smaller, local business owners. I’m ashamed to say their faces were familiar to me.

Not because I'd seen them out and about or at the shop or anything like that. I recognised them because they had been at me house when I was a kid. Funny coincidence, the loan shark that I used to run for was sitting in a corner, his eyes focusing on me more and more often. He was trying to recognise me.

I felt naked in that moment, but I think I kept a brave face. “Come on, let’s see the guys,” Tayanita leaned in, and the away to the right. When I was slow to come, she shouted, “We’ll get you into the ring soon enough.”

I remembered why I was here, and who I was. I remembered what was in the bag.

I bumped past the jumping and fisting hoard of enemies, their excitement at a match being called nearly knocking me back, but I forged on none the less. I noticed that Tayanita didn’t have the same problems as me, they noticed her and moved.

Despite the hiccup around Valentines, Tayanita had their respect and terror. She served in Egypt long enough to eliminate five monsters, or so she said. She counted a Unit in that. Apparently, there are a number of war lords in third world countries that are openly Units, something to do with social and cultural differences allows certain powers to be more readily accepted by first worlders, and thus allows for them to be bent into shape by fear.

Still, Tayanita was able to lead a raid and take him out with a couple ‘R.O’s’. She’d told the story a couple times, but I didn’t know what an R.O was. I knew it was Int tech, but it seems to have gotten into the hands of the Mountain as well.

“Malcolm!” She shouted over the crowd. The older man was sitting at the side of the booth, the other occupant's unseen. I’d seen his two friends in the crowd, if only for a moment. His bug eyes weren’t watching the match.

As we came to the table, he puffed out smoke and told Tayanita, “Leave the boy. The Jacks are here.”

I think that was the first time I saw her confidence challenged. I saw it in her posture, how she was checking the faces of the men for a hint of intention.

Or face rather.

I couldn’t contain my surprise, I looked back and forth between the two. One had a cropped beard and buned hair, the other was shaved completely. Both had a circle tattooed on their face, but the bald one had a black dot in the middle of his.

Both wore the face of Jack Chandler.

Tayanita regained her composure, “Gentlemen. I hope your enjoying yourself.” She tried to lighten their spirits, but both reacted with a synchronised eyebrow raise. It was then I remembered that Clover had said the Channeler was one of many lab grown... specimens. Somehow, a part of me knew they weren’t Units, at least not of the Channeler’s caliber. They seemed less obscured than him.

Tayanita continued, “My man isn’t going to be staying long, I’m throwing him into the ring.”

Malcolm, the sunken man smiled emptily, “Pit him against Thomas. That’d be a funny match.” He took another smoke. Out of turn I asked, “Is... Thomas ready now? I wanna go.”

Tayanita took her seat beside Malcolm, across from the Jack’s, “Fine. Go to the betting booth and ask for Thomas then. I’ll be watching.”

“See ya,” I said, twisting on my heels.

I couldn’t actually see where the booth was, I was shorter than everyone else there, except for the strippers hanging around. I pushed through, now with more difficulty than before. After a shove to my backpack, I decided not to dance about, and went through the crowd with little effort at all.

I’d gotten really good at minimalizing my power using a combination of under exertion and SP2. I’d figured out a lot of tricks recently, I can cool myself down, I can minimise the effects of my primary power, and some other stuff that I haven’t exactly put into practice yet.

Though I was away from Tayanita’s gaze, it wasn’t wise to just flippantly display my strength. I made way for less packed areas, moving away from the centre. I came out at a booth, and the occupant called out to me.

“You,” the man shouted, then whistled. I looked over to see the man had white hair and a beer belly. If it had been anyone else I would have rolled my eyes, but I steadily walked towards the loan shark.

“Haha! You recognise me? You’re Maeve’s kid, right?” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my shorts, “Aye.”

He gave a giggle, “That all you ‘ave to say?”

I looked away into the crowd, “Aye.”

He wasn’t laughing, “You’re doing alright. Saw you with the old boss of this joint. You remember me, don’t you? I gave you your first proper hit.”

I tried not to show any disrespect, “I’m not here for drugs. I’m here to fight.” I eyed his guards. Though there was nothing they could do to me they still dwarfed me like giants.

The shark said, “Really? Who you up against?”

“Thomas,” I said.

“You’re not beating him. I woulda thought your girlfriend might have given you a better match.”

For a moment I didn’t respond. Then, I took my backpack off and unzipped it a sliver, just enough so he could see. “You seem confidant. Wanna bet?”

He looked down into my tiny bag a smile creeping over his face, “How much is in there?”

“Five, Six kilos. How much you got on you mister?”

He stroked his chin, “I got a goffer out front with ten kilos laying in his trunk...”

“Cash,” I said, “Even that fancy ass watch’ll do.”

He checked his wrist, “Trouble selling? Thought a kid like you would know how to do that. Raised by a crack whore and all.”

I don’t think he meant any offence from that, “My mum never wanted me near the stuff.”

He rocked back in his seat and looked about.

“Did a shit job of it then. Fifty thousand. And this watch is a ten k on top of that.”

“Deal,” I said, reaching across to shake his calloused hand.

He laughed when I turned for the crowd. I knew he wouldn’t pass up the deal, because men like him never imagine that my kind ever wins.

I eventually made it to the guy I needed to check in with and told him to pit me against Thomas, on Tayanita’s orders. He gave a look that said it was my funeral. I left my bag there, where it was locked up while him and an escort of bouncers led me to the flimsy wire fence gate that would take me up and into the cage. I was the first in, just after the last fight had finished.

A blonde man stumbled out bloody and dazed but he was in better condition than his opponent who had to be carried out, his face caved and an ear missing.

It made no difference to me, they had chosen this.

I stood in the ring, a square fence trapping me in now. I kept my head low and tried to look like I was nervous or getting ready. I jumped on the spot for a bit, swung my arms, and then I rolled my shoulders.

I grabbed the neck of my shirt, and pulled it off. I tossed it away; it wasn’t something I cared about. I peeled off my trainers and socks, handing them out to the bet keeper.

Eventually, My opponent came up, already prepped for the match. It was the skinny sickly ginger kid, the one who was friend with the fat guy and old Malcolm. Though now I could tell he wasn’t skinny, he wasn’t weak. He had an exceptionally well-toned boxer’s build. I knew from his triceps, the only part of him that bulged.

Yeah, he was well made. I was planning on doing this without my super strength, and with a weakened endurance so that he wouldn’t suspect anything.

You might be wondering what possible purpose would weakening myself serve, generally speaking?

I’m not going to post any pictures, but after working out for the last two months with my durability in check, my muscles have been given the opportunity to break down and build themselves up. If my powerless self gets stronger, my maximum output will be greatly increased.

This is a bit of a side note, but it stood out to me that using my SP2 did not permanently decrease my strength, like if I use SP2 on my weight, I can become lighter, but I wouldn’t be able to get heavier, sort of like Charlie K’s condition. Yet SP1 just recuperates naturally, like there’s an external factor to it, like it’s working complementary to SP2.

I got ready as soon as the door closed behind him. Thomas as I now knew him, was bugging out. Guess in a ruleless match there’s nothing stopping him from hopping up. His posture was shaky, but he kept his centre.

“Bet’s fer Thomas the Tank v Rori!” It seemed like the whole crowd was rearing to bet against me, can’t blame them, I was shorter and he had a history here.

The crowd was chanting and light was placid over the scene. Thomas’ eyes seemed fixed to mine. He made no taunts or banter. Fear was in his eyes.

As soon as a siren wailed, Thomas did the same. His fists were fast and hard, and worst of all they snaked around my guard.

It hurt like hell, and for the first time in a while I remembered the desperation of a fight. It was in every swing he threw, and I could feel it building up in myself as I quickly realised that I was as mortal as him.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

My fist flew into the soft flesh of his gut, and though he stepped an inch away he was quickly back to business.

I’d underestimated him. My arms were down for a second, and he managed to plant a knuckle in my nose. I realed back, and he managed to change his posture, sweeping a leg up. His heel hammered into my forearm, and I just barely grabbed it.

Pinching it just barely between both arms I was able to get a hold on him. He should have kept with boxing, maybe he thought I was clever enough to notice a pattern in his starting barrage.

Unluckily for him, all I know is how to take and throw punches.

That being said, the best course of action was now to throw him.

Again he threw a fist into my nose, but it only slowed me.

Thomas crashed into the fence gate as I tossed him. For a second I worried it’d fall in on its self, instead it stood and he fell.

I got over and started smashing down on him. By then he was a clawing frenzy, tearing away at my calves or arms, whatever he got a claw into.

It was becoming clear that no matter how much blood erupted from his face he wasn’t going down quickly.

Exiting my comfort zone was the only way.

I got on top of him and started grappling, struggling to bring his arm around as his other red hand drew blood from my leg. Eventually I winched the bastard into position, his head to the ground, and his arm pointing up. With my knee pressed into his shoulder blade, I looked around, expecting for somebody to call the match.

I forgot where I was. Or maybe, for a simple animalistic second, I forgot that this wasn’t a game. A human lay below me, with a life I'd never know.

His arm popped, maybe breaking.

From there, I grabbed his scraggly hair, and slammed his face down into the paper-thin mat. I did so until he was whimpering meekly and the other arm was doing nothing.

I hardly heard people watching, I'm sure they must’ve booed Thomas for losing there money.

Pain rocketed through my body once the fight was over, still, I had to smile and pump my fist in the air with a sound that could only be described as that of a giant douche.

They let me out of the cage and got somebody to bring over a wet towel for my head. I think I needed to bury my face in it. Who can say what sort of expression I was making then? I waited till the cold water of the towel had heated from my blood and breath, then swabbed it down, and carried on with my main objective.

The first thing I did was get my shoes, bag, and even my t-shirt from the gambling den and march myself towards Tayanita’s table.

The crowd moved for me now, it was like walking down a road lined by trees. I turned off halfway to see the loan shark. He was laughing about something to someone. I stood square and against his table of behemoths. He eyed me from the side, “What?”

“My money.”

He simply snorted out his nose, “What money?”

A sick red feeling was building up, not too dissimilar to how I'd felt in the ring, “The money you bet.” His eye brows squeezed together and curled up, “I don’t remember leavin’ nothing with the bookie. Besides, that was one of your girl’s men, who could have easily taken the fall for a little cut, not to mention everybody was betting on him...”

“I just caved his face in!”

One of the guards made a move to stand, just a shuffle. “Don’t forget that I've been here longer than your Mountain. ‘Far as I'm concerned, I'm the baddest motherfucker here, not some humiliated little bitch, and I'm definitely above you, ye little whore’s son.”

The ringing in my ears made it hard to listen to reason. That was mine, without a doubt. I’d stolen money from drug dealers, but just there now, I earned it. Never mind the fact that I held back, never mind that this motherfucker has no right to talk to me like that.

I turned my eyes away, down, anywhere but on him. “You’re a little fish,” I said, “Someday, an actual sharks gonna swim along and...”

I was muttering to myself, I realised. If I was wearing a mask right now, I’d have sung insults to him. Why couldn’t I put on that green face anymore? Why did it turn my stomach to call myself a hero?

I knew the answer, and all I could do was frown about it.

The loan shark’s name is Rodie McCay, he’s forty-seven years old and lives on the west side of town, in an apartment complex he owns. He has a wife and two sons, which are aware of and being groomed for the family trade. He has connections to paramilitary organisations and is a known drug dealer. He was sentenced to prison for five years in 2006, but he wasn’t there long. People hate him, children fear him, but the law seems to love him.

Remember how I said if anybody ever reads this and comes looking for me or my people I’d give them my worst? This one you can take. If I don’t make it, I'd like my hate to be recorded somewhere.

A part of me was wondering if my little backpack scheme was really going to take someone like him, or anyone in the Mountain off the streets. In my bloodshot frenzy I forgot that it wasn’t just cocaine.

I was ready to start trouble right then and there, when Tayanita bumped by me.

“My man’s not causing any trouble,” Tay had both hands in her pockets, “Right?”

With my mission in sight, I ground my teeth in silence.

Rodie the shark just gave a wheezing laugh, “No, no, start no trouble get no trouble, that’s a rule here.”

“We made a bet,” I finally admitted, “He needs to give me my money.”

Looking back on it I can understand where Gurl was coming from with her greed. It wasn’t about what the money could get, or how it could improve my family’s lives... it was ego. Over the last month I have horded away at least three hundred thousand euros, I had more than enough to buy food and heating, and just fork it out to the homeless with no explanation needed, but it was useless for buying a house, or changing my life.

It was to hold onto and prove that I was as good as I thought I was.

All I can do is fight, and if I can’t change things with that then what do I have?

“You bet on yourself? Talk about an ego,” Tayanita rubbed against me, and then forward, pulling her sidearm out and putting it on the table.

Rodie McCay’s guards stood when they noticed the gun placed square on the table. One hand was still in Tayanita’s pocket. She asked, “Did you make a bet with Rori?”

“You’re not gonna do shit, Taytay,” Rodie pointed to the crowd, “I got men in there, hell, I got men here.”

Tayanita just nodded, “I won’t start shit,” she said, “long as you don’t try and bullshit me.”

He looked her up and down, “Maybe I made a bet on him. If I did, it was banter, a joke. Who bets against the house?”

“I’m not the house,” I said weakly, “I’m a guest, same as you. If- if I tried to pull the shit you...”

Tayanita finished, “If he was lying right now, I’d have his cock. You might not believe in fairness, but I do. The winner takes what he wants. You’d do well to not underestimate a starving dog.”

She leaned on their table harder, finger faintly tapping at the trigger of the pistol, “Especially a humiliated bitch.”

The man avoided her eyes, swallowing a hard lump. He raised his left hand slowly, and stripped the watch from it, then he nodded to one of his associates.

“The last thing this town needs is a fucking shit storm.” He nodded despondently, “A worse shit storm. You better not go pissing it all away over some boy.”

They dished out money and I counted it up as Tayanita tutted, “Do I look seem like a vapid blonde to you? I’m not losing this again.” I looked for her eyes when she said that. They twitched, flickered. She was hiding something.

To avoid losing it I put the gaudy gold watch on my wrist, the metal sweaty and uncomfortable. I just gripped the stack of cash in my pocket.

Tayanita walked and I followed.

She led out past her booth, I could see now that the Jacks were gone, the fat guy, Tyrion, sitting in both their places. I called out to Tayanita, “Where we going?”

“I’m in a bad mood, let’s wrap this up.” I breathed in, arguing, “I wanna talk to the guys for a bit. Hey, what was up with those twins?”

I had to squeeze through a wall of human flesh, as she stepped through a narrow door I toppled out after her, the air in the lounge had a fresher smell to it. It was a new room, one built for a large group to party in peace. “We’ll do that shit later. I wanna show you something.”

All of a sudden she was crouched on one knee and kicking at a wooden panel at the foot of the booth bench. After it wedged back a bit, she gave it a jiggle with her hand, and it fell away. Realising this was something secret, I closed the door behind me, locking it.

She slid into the tight gap and seemed to fall. With caution I crept after her, looking in to see a rough cut and dim passage.

“Come,” she shouted up.

Awkwardly, I jimmied my legs in and wormed after. My feet found a ladder, and I descended. “Jesus, what’s taking you so long?”

I turned my neck around to face her as I was coming out into a wider opening, “Maybe the fact that I got my brains battered, you think that did something?”

She laughed, covering her mouth. She gave a turn, her arms outstretched as far as they could go under that five-foot high ceiling, “This is where we keep the shit.

I squinted my eyes, the phosphorous light above her head at the very least allowed me to see the squares in the walls, reminiscent of coffins in a tomb.

“You keep drugs here?” It made sense for them to become a little smarter with their storage, seeing as last January, I was able to walk right in and trash the place.

“Meth, coke, whatever, it’s on your left, that isn’t what I brought you down for.”

Tayanita went deeper in, checking the boxes on the right. Stopping at one, she dug her feet into the ground and tugged the box foot by foot. There was a heavy sound to it, like she was moving a fridge.

I stepped forward, staying a greater distance from the box than she kept. It was a brown box, and for a moment anything could have been in it. She punched a key code in, and I did my best to remember the code. Three-five-nine-something... Luckily, I had other options than getting it right on my own.

The lid of the box moved back, and I had to ask what I was looking at.

“Remember how I hunted monsters in Egypt? This is how I did it. R.O’s. There’s enough fire power down here to blow a country up.”

I thought they might have been a trophy from her hunting, but it was something far worse than a couple monster parts.

“What the fuck are they doing in your basement” I clenched up. This might ruin my plans.

She gave a laugh, “I keep them handy. Guns can’t kill the green guy, but these can. If they can’t, I've got bigger one’s on stand-by.”

An uneasy laugh escaped me, better than saying ‘thanks for sharing’ outloud.

I looked away for a moment, gnawing on my fist. “They’re not nukes or anything.” She lifted a gun piece that looked like a rocket launcher, balancing it on her shoulder. The other hand held a small warhead.

“Oh my god,” I couldn’t help but queas.

“When were you such a pussy?”

I tried to save face, “Sorry, if I'm overreacting to the fact you’ve got a fucking nuke in your hand.”

She frowned, “It is not a nuke. This is a hunting tool. It’s meant for hunting monsters, not people,” she still meant me, but whatever, “With materials like Subterrainium around, materials that are nigh indestructible you have to get creative with how you destroy. There was a man back in the fifties whose family was eaten by skin changers. The experience led to an evil entering his mind, arcane knowledge of how to shrink materials entered his mind slowly. An evil origin, but a noble cause. His only real mistake was that he trusted the Ints with it.”

“The idea behind it was that a hell of a lot of energy was needed to kill a monster, think about all the collateral and wasted energy in nuking an individual when you could just ball all that up into a supernova the size of a basketball. It was the superior tech the Ints had that put my family out of the business. Luckily the inventor defected to the Mountain, there his research was expanded upon, but that is all beyond R.O’s. With what they had, the Int’s were able to develop the raw explosive energy of the original R.O’s. Imagine it. The power to vaporize a planet, contained and maintained at the size of this room.”

She looked about, a sly smile spreading across her face. It faded as she remembered, “There are creatures that could blink the world away. With a thought, or a glance. These weapons aren’t something to fear, ‘cause they’re ours.”

Ironically I know exactly what she meant. I’ve been at the mercy of more powerful people my whole life. So had she. Tayanita had told me before that she had dreamed of starting her own monster hunting agency. This wasn’t just another show of power, this was the pavement for her future.

Still, sad that I had to wreak it.

“You know what I mean. You’re starting to get it now, really get it. You need to fight for what you want,” she was up against me, and for the first time I didn’t feel like pushing her off right away. “I think I do,” pity was hidden in my voice.

I thought she was going to do something, but for some reason she stepped back. Lowering the arms back into their crate, she said, “That’s all I wanted to show you here.”

She tossed the egg shaped warhead back in with a clank and my eyes widened.

“Relax. It has to be primed by the gun. A musket needs gunpowder to fire. That, but more complicated.” There was something off about her as she relocked the box and shoved it partway back in.

Through the now sapping tension she bumped past me, “Let’s get out of here,” leading the way up out of the ladder.

I blinked away any sympathy or use I saw in having a monster hunter around. Tayanita did not fit into my future. For that, her hopes for humanity had to be destroyed.

I quickly flung my bag around and zipped it open, flung out the bags of cocaine, and put in an earpiece.

“The code for the drug boxes is different from the guns, it’s four-one-two-one-four-one-nine. Tayanita’s getting her hand through the hole above you. There’s a cop car four streets away, they’ll be checking in within an hour after I make the call. Get the pictures, get out.”

TGFMACJ had her work cut out for her. She was watching me, my immediate area, as well as the cops in the area. Halloween was a night when the garda had their hands full with misdemeanours, Gurl recommended that we pull something serious.

Without a sound I used my strength to lift one of the crates on the left out of the wall with a couple steps back, opening it. “Tayanita’s out now, she’ll be getting impatient soon.”

I opened the cocaine bags and emptied them out onto the Quarter’s stock, what I had hidden in it fell out along with the blow.

Gurl buzzed in, “We do this and the public will turn against ‘John Ireland’.”

I could only nod. If I wasn’t pressed for time, I'd have told her I didn’t care whether the public or the police hated me, if anything it would be a boost for me.

Inside the bags of cocaine were double a dozen shoddy shamrock masks, and two pistols that I'd confiscated from a drug house up north.

I shouted up, “Do you want me to turn off this light, Tay,” I looked behind me for a second, forgetting that’s exactly what Gurl was for.

“No, it shuts off on it’s own, hurry your ass up, I wanna go.”

“She’s eyeing the opening. Take the fucking picture already.”

Gurl had been watching, drug dealers learning the combination for their phones, I took a picture with one now of those phones now, of the drugs and guns and the mark of a nationally certified terrorist.”

Then I shoved the box back in, “Ow,” I shouted up, “stubbed my damn toe.”With that I was on the first step of the ladder, Gurl gave me her finally words.

“Sending. Tralee PD is receiving; the phone manager is reacting with horror. You’ll have an hour to get out of there, if they listen to the threats and warning I added with it that is. Could be a day, if they’re too stupid to understand what ‘tonight’ means.”

I whipped her out of my ear tucked the piece away.

It was harder getting out of the pit than getting in.

Crawling headfirst out of the opening, all I was thinking about was what could go wrong. My DNA was all over the place, in the ring, on the crates. The garda doesn’t have me on record, but if I were to become a suspect in this case...

There was also the fact that if or when Tayanita gets out of prison- or anyone else who saw me enter that lounge- there's a chance they’ll figure out one and one makes two is what I'm saying.

Alright, someone figures out Rori did it, so? Thing is, if they make a big deal out of it, if this doesn’t go perfectly, than someone in that room already knows who my mother is and where she lives.

The thought was chilling, but it wasn’t a highly likely outcome.

It was just something to keep in the back of my mind. It’s not like the whole Mountain would come crashing down on what remained of Emmet O'Hara's life. If Tayanita or anyone else ever figured me out, then that would be the day that I die.

And Shamrock lives again.

Tayanita helped me to my feet, “I wanna take you somewhere.”

Uh-oh.

I laughed, “We’re already somewhere.” I made an effort to move in, she just raised an eyebrow, “I mean there’s somewhere I actually want to go. This is work. Down there is work. Just once, I wanna … I don’t know, let loose?”

No comfort was born from that, “Where would we go?”

“It’ll be a surprise.”

Luckily Tayanita hunched down to fix the panel before she could catch a glimpse of unease on my face.

She rose, unlocked the door and-

My phone rang.

If there was anything that should have told me this night wasn’t going to be just another short one and done bust, then this should have.

Nobody calls me. It wasn’t the phone I used for Rori, or a burner, it was my regular phone.

Quickly I flicked it out of my pocket, giving it a once over, ready to hang up.

In the end I didn’t have to. The caller hung up on their own. I looked down with a grim expression.

Tayanita finally asked, “Who was that?”

I quickly lied, forcing a snarl across my face, “Fucking scam caller, who even falls for shit like that now-a-days?” Maybe too much cursing, but she seemed to buy it, “You can get an app that blocks those automatically.”

Tayanita clicked open the door with a sigh and I followed out after her, desperate to fulfil the mission I followed, but the ring stayed in my ears like a creeping madness.

If it was Clover, I’d have gulped, but carried on. If it was Mullet, I'd have rolled my eyes, but carried on.

But it was the girl from my amazingly crappy job.

The girl who knew what I was doing and had agreed to not call me unless there was an immediate danger to herself, or the current mission.

The fact that she hung up on her own said it was nothing so simple. She was not one to make a slip at work, and so, it implied the worst.