John Wick already stood in the observation lounge which Kasumi had claimed as her quarters. He was looking out of the lounge's large viewport as Nathan led the others through the door. The analyst stopped dead upon seeing a very familiar painting hung on the wall next to what looked like the 'bar' area.

"Is that what I think it is?" Nathan asked.

"It sure as shit looks like it," replied John without turning around.

Nathan strode over and planted himself in front of the painting while most of the Helen's crew gathered behind him. It was indeed Hamirn Jou's painting Memories of Palaven. As the analyst had expected, images did not do the real thing justice. It had a brooding, haunting quality that made him feel somehow uneasy. Nathan took a full minute to gaze at it, knowing that his graybox would allow him to preserve this moment forever.

He then stepped back and let the others crowd in to get a closer look. Nathan looked over and saw Kasumi leaning against what looked like a 'bar' area at one end of the lounge. The thief had a smirk on her face that matched the amused glitter in her hooded eyes.

"I take it you're a fan of the artist?" she said as Nathan strolled over.

The analyst shrugged. "I am now. We used that painting's theft to try to track down...well, the thing we were looking for."

"You can say his name, you know," she said softly.

Nathan glanced back at the painting. "Let me guess. You and Keiji were independently hired to steal that, and you wound up trying to steal it at the same time."

Kasumi gave a chuckle. "Exactly. We led each other on quite the merry chase, I can tell you. I guess we wound up admiring each other's ability." Her smile faded. "And you can fill in the rest."

Nathan nodded. "It's strange. I had thought that Keiji was holding onto the painting in hopes of a better offer, or due to some sentimental attachment to it. I'd never thought of love as a motivation."

He heard John walk up behind them. "Love makes people do a lot of things they'd never do otherwise," said the assassin. He scanned the bar area. "You have a bottle of Kentucky bourbon?"

Kasumi grinned. "Now aren't you glad you didn't go shooting up me and my stuff? Go ahead, have a glass."

John actually smiled as he poured himself a slight amount. As he took a sip, the door to the lounge hissed open and Shepard entered, followed by Mackie and Garrus. The young human's face was uncovered, in contrast to Garrus who still had a few bandages covering his injuries.

Nathan felt a little lump rise in his throat as he walked over to Mackie. "You're looking better, love." And he was. The angry red scarring that had creased one side of his face was now smoother and less painful-looking. His nose was straighter, and the lesser scars around his eyes were now gone.

The fixer shrugged offhandedly, but he was smiling as he and Nathan hugged. It was the first real smile Nathan had seen on Mackie's face in quite a while. "I guess so." said Mackie. "I went ahead and took the bandages off as soon as Dr. Chakwas said it was okay. The big dramatic unbandaging thing was getting old."

Nathan looked over at Garrus. "I'm surprised you haven't been able to get yours off yet."

Mackie laughed. "Give him a break, dude. He took a missile to the face."

"Don't make it sound so dramatic! It was a small missile," said Garrus with a turian smile.

Meanwhile Shepard and John were conferring over by the bar. Nathan noted that the two men were about the same height, although Shepard's build was much more muscular. It was like seeing a Rottweiler standing next to a greyhound.

Shepard turned to the rest of them, and Nathan saw with some amusement that the Commander also now held a glass of bourbon. "Okay, everyone. Pulling this thing off sounds like it's going to be a cast-iron bitch, so I'm handing the floor to Kasumi. She can walk us through what we're facing." He made a sweeping gesture to the center of the room, and the thief stepped forward. Nathan could tell she was a little more nervous than she let on.

John Wick watched while Kasumi tapped commands into her omni-tool. "Keiji Okuda and I tried to infiltrate Donovan Hock's compound once before. We failed. I barely escaped with my life, while Keiji..." She paused and took a breath. "Hock ripped Keiji's graybox out of his skull while he was still alive."

Shepard looked grim, which fit the glowing scars on his face. John was honestly still a little put off by them. They made Shepard look like some sort of high-tech revenant, come back from the dead to wreak a terrible vengeance.

"Hock sounds like a sadistic bastard," said the Spectre.

Kasumi nodded. "None of the escort services on Bekenstein will cater to him anymore. Apparently he got carried away one too many times. He also loves to hoard precious items, which is probably why he kept the graybox. I honestly don't know if he realizes what's on it."

Shepard crossed his arms. "How damaging is the information on Keiji's graybox?"

Nathan spoke up. "If Hock is able to decode it, then the Alliance is facing war with the Batarian Hegemony."

"Okay, that's bad," said Garrus. "I take it a frontal assault is out of the question?"

The thief tilted her head as she thought. "I wouldn't recommend it. First, I'm sure that Hock has a contingency plan to evacuate in the event of attack. He might take the graybox with him, since it's small and very valuable. Second, he's paid off the local law enforcement so they'll come to his aid during any attack. And lastly the compound is a literal fortress."

Kasumi touched a few more controls, and something that looked like a flat-topped pyramid appeared in the middle of the room. Several items became outlined while she mentioned them. "This is the Hock compound. Around the main building are three concentric walls, each with its own sensor network to detect any intrusion. They operate independently of each other, so to get in you have to do three separate hacks. And that's before you even get to the compound itself."

The central building now lit up. "It has the usual networked sensor suites inside, of course. Those feed into a central security room which is occupied around the clock by a dedicated staff of thirty guards. That staff also performs regular patrols of the compound, but unfortunately for us they do not stick to an exact routine."

"Where does Hock get his security staff from?" asked Persephone.

"Mostly ex-military. They're a mixture of human and batarian. They are well equipped and very well paid, so bribing will be difficult." She pointed at a huge room in the ground under the building. "This is Hock's main vault. The graybox will certainly be in there, along with the rest of Hock's collection."

Shepard walked around the display as if memorizing it. "Tell me more about this dinner party you mentioned."

The thief took a breath. Now that the discussion was underway, she looked much less nervous. "The party is in three weeks. It's the only social event on Hock's calendar for the next five months, and it's the easiest way to get somebody inside. The attendees are mostly arms manufacturers and other similar types. Many of them are probably trying to butter up Hock to get his business."

John met eyes with Persephone and saw her smile. It was clear she had the same thought that he did. "It looks like Edward Hadlock gets to make a reappearance," he said.

"Will that ID be useful?" asked Shepard.

John nodded. "It should be. We set 'Hadlock' up as an arms manufacturer who sold his company. We could say that his attendance is due to him trying to get back in the game."

"That takes care of Wick," said Garrus. "But we're going to need more than one person inside. What about the Commander and Kasumi?"

John looked over as Shepard pondered. "Wick and I could claim to be setting up a joint venture of some kind, I guess," said the Commander. "But I'll need a fake ID at least as good as his."

Nathan clasped his hands behind his back. "I believe that I can handle that."

"And I'm getting in by shadowing the two Johns while cloaked," added Kasumi. "Hock and his goons already have my face on file, so there's no way I can risk them getting a look at me."

Shepard rubbed his face. "Okay, from the top. John and I get IDs and party invitations. We walk into the party with a cloaked Kasumi behind us. Then we slip away to the vault at an opportune moment. Kasumi, can you get us in?"

The thief nodded. "Yes, but it might take some time. He's certainly changed the locks and protocols to get into the vault after Keiji and I got in the last time."

Shepard's face softened. "Are you sure you're okay with going back in there?"

Kasumi's face set in determination as she nodded.

"I don't like it," said John Wick. "Once we're in the vault, then we grab the graybox and slip back out and that's it? We've gotta assume things will go bad on us."

While John spoke, Garrus was getting a closer look at the compound's schematics. "If things do go badly, it looks like getting weapons in is going to be a pain. The building's sensor suite is designed to automatically notify the security force if any gun is detected."

John thought about his omni-tool blade. He should be able to sneak that particular weapon into the compound, and then he could pull the same 'use their own guns' stunt he'd used in Barcelona.

Aloud, he said "I have a way to take down at least a couple guards. Then we can use their guns."

Kasumi shook her head. "I tried that the last time when I was running for my life out of there. Their weapons have biometric safeties that only allow them to be used by their owner."

"Well, shit."

Shepard grinned at John's sour face, but it was a comradely grin. "I wonder if we could get away with giving Hock some sort of gift?" mused the Commander. "Kasumi, you said that he was a collector. Maybe if we come up with some kind of statuary he'd like, we can make one with a secret compartment inside it..." He trailed off at Kasumi's incredulous expression.

"Do you have any idea how suspicious that will look?" asked the thief.

The Commander actually looked a little sheepish. "Well, we are just brainstorming here."

Kasumi chewed on her lip. "The other problem is, even if we do get weapons in there, any sort of prolonged firefight will bring in the local cops."

Camicia raised a taloned hand. "So what exactly does he collect? I'm assuming you and Keiji were trying to steal some of it."

Kasumi shrugged. "You name it, he wants it. That's why I call him a 'hoarder' not a 'collector'. Collectors at least pick one or two areas of interest and stick with them. Hock, on the other hand, just grabs stuff he thinks is rare and valuable. Statues, paintings, vintage clothing, ancient weapons..."

John perked up at the last. "Ancient weapons?"

"Yes, while I was in the vault I saw he had an arsenal's worth. All of them in a separate environmental enclosure, and they looked as clean as the day they were made." She looked up at John. "But they're not usable. They're museum pieces. I mean, they use brass cartridges containing gunpowder. I saw all sorts of ammunition in there as well, I couldn't believe how old it all was."

John smiled. "I could probably make do with those, if I needed to."

Shepard raised one eyebrow. "You regularly practice with gunpowder weaponry?"

Persephone gave a little snort, and waved a hand as Shepard looked quizzically at her in turn. "John Wick's a bit of a unique case," she said. "Let's just leave it at that."

Garrus also looked a little askance at John. "Okaaaay, so since Commander Shepard isn't an expert in antique firearms, how do we get him a gun? For that matter, how do we get him armor?"

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Shepard laughed. "I'm not worried about armor, Garrus. Hell, all I had was a tee shirt during the first five hours of the Skyllian Blitz."

Now it was John Wick's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Really?" He'd read a little about the Blitz, and he sure as shit wouldn't want to be waltzing through an action like that with only a shirt for protection. Shepard was either a legit badass or crazy. And he didn't seem crazy.

The Commander shrugged. "I was on vacation."

"So is that why you wear tee shirts all the time?" asked Garrus. "I thought it was because you had no fashion sense."

The Spectre pulled a sour face. "Aw shit, that's right. I'm going to have to wear a suit for this, aren't I? Where the hell am I gonna get one?"

John did a quick check on his omni-tool and smiled. "I can help there. And we can take care of Shepard's armor needs at the same time. Bekenstein has a Continental hotel."

The Commander rubbed his face. "Great. I hate suits. Okay, so that leaves two big issues to take care of. How do we smuggle weapons in, and what do we do about the local cops?"

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Nathan tried to give a winning smile, but Shepard was not looking happy as he loomed over the analyst. "Solomon...Gunn?" asked Shepard. "Really?"

Nathan leaned back into the sofa in the Commander's cabin. This was even more plush than the 'rich man cabin' they'd set up for John Wick on the Helen. "I know the name seems very on-the-nose, but Alliance Intelligence has a number of fake IDs set up for its agents in case of emergency. This was the one that was closest to what we want. Mr. Gunn has a history of weapons development and several patents to his name."

Shepard snorted. "I guess it'll do. But won't Alliance Intel notice that one of their IDs has gone missing?"

Nathan shrugged. "The IDs are used very rarely. The only way they would know it's missing is if there was any history of its existence in the first place." He smiled wider. "And there isn't, at least not any more."

The Commander looked troubled. "Ordinarily I wouldn't like the idea of screwing Alliance Intel like this. But I guess if it's for Hackett, it's okay."

Nathan didn't want to bring it up, but he figured that he should. He leaned forward and nervously tapped his fingertips together. "And once we, er, collectively have possession of Keiji's graybox, what then? I know Hackett will want us to destroy the data."

"That is entirely up to Kasumi," said Shepard in a voice that made it clear that the subject was closed.

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"We're gonna need an extra shuttle for this," said Mackie. He sat in the Normandy's mess alongside Garrus as they looked over the map of Bekenstein's main city.

Garrus leaned forward and traced out the routes with a taloned finger. "Probably two more. So three shuttles in total. I can drive one."

"And I've got one," said Camicia. She was behind them and leaning causally against the counter that separated the kitchen area. "Bast can drive the third one to drop off Kasumi and our boys. So three shuttles...I guess we can't use the Normandy's own shuttle, seeing as how it's got a nice big Cerberus logo pasted on its side."

"Don't remind me," muttered Garrus. "In any case, we're also going to need a warehouse space to paint and prep everything."

Mackie smiled. "I can take care of the warehouse at least."

Camicia sighed. "And I guess I can look into somehow, heh, 'acquiring' the shuttles."

Garrus turned around. "You don't have to do that alone, you know. I've got some skill at hacking and whatnot."

The female turian tilted her head. "Really? Not that I doubt your ability, but weren't you Mr-Squeaky-Clean C-Sec not too long ago?"

Garrus gave a honking laugh. "I guess you didn't hear what I was getting up to on Omega. Let's just say my priorities have changed."

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Bekenstein was a developed world, one that reminded John a little of Illium. The main city, however, did not have the soaring asari skyscrapers that characterized Nos Astra. And its warehouse district was a lot grimier than its asari counterpart. John Wick strode into the center of the warehouse that Mackie had acquired and watched while the fixer, Gabby, and Persephone applied paint to their purloined shuttle fleet.

The petite asari straightened up and pulled off her filter mask, then set aside her sprayer. She gave John a big smile as she walked toward him. He was surprised all over again at the flutter in his chest upon seeing her. It was a feeling that he'd never thought to have again, not since Helen had passed.

"So what do you think?" she asked while hugging him.

He nodded his approval as he hugged her back. "It looks good. It's weird, but I that hope all this work is for nothing. If all goes well, we just walk out the front gate with no one the wiser. Is Shepard here?"

Persephone paused. "Yeah, he was checking on something in the office." He didn't miss the little hesitation in her voice.

"Is there a problem with him?"

She hugged him tighter and shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Just nerves."

John figured that this was due to the as-yet-unspoken history between her and Liara. He'd gotten hints that it had something to do with Shepard's first mission against Saren, but that was all. Well, if Shepard didn't make an issue of it then he wasn't about to either.

He strolled over to the office and ran into Shepard coming out the other way. The big man was actually bouncing with happiness.

"I think I figured out how to get a few guns in there," Shepard told John. Then his grin faded. "Crap. Is it time for the suit fitting already?"

"It's not that big of a deal," replied John. "Trust me, these guys will make it painless."

Shepard looked behind him at the three repainted shuttles and walked past John to get a closer inspection.

John followed with a smile. "Delaying tactics will only prolong the suffering, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Shepard put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the craft. "Damn, that's not bad. This scheme just might work after all."

By now Mackie had stripped off his own filter mask and grinned at Shepard. "Why, thanks for the confidence." He glanced at John standing behind Shepard. "If you're going to get your suit, do me a favor and stay away from black." He nodded towards John. "We've already got one person walking around looking like a goddamn undertaker."

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Shepard had expected the lobby of the Bekenstein Continental hotel to be luxurious, and it certainly was. What he didn't expect was the almost church-like atmosphere inside. Even for a luxury hotel, it was really damn quiet.

The man behind the counter had a shaved head and skin the color of polished ebony. He gave John Wick a large smile as he walked up with Shepard trailing behind. "Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?"

Something large and gold swiftly passed between Wick and the concierge. "We need a session with the hotel tailor," said Wick. "It's a bit of a rush job, unfortunately."

"I understand, sir. I believe she will be available in about half an hour. In the meantime, please feel free to wait at the bar."

Shepard saw John hand another of those large gold coins to the bartender in exchange for a bourbon for him and a really nice scotch for Shepard. The Commander leaned against the dark polished wood of the bar and checked the sightlines and the escape routes out of the place. There was one other group of people in the bar, two humans and a salarian who were seated at a table and bent over some sort of ledger. They spoke in low tones, adding to the hushed atmosphere of the place.

He could feel Wick watching him with amusement. "Looking for exits?"

"It's a useful habit," Shepard replied. He felt a slight irritation at the question. Wick was certainly a pro, and he should know the value in keeping your guard up.

"In most places it is. But in here it's kind of a wasted effort. No business is conducted on the Continental grounds." Wick took a sip of his bourbon. "Even Cerberus won't violate that law. They ambushed Mackie and Kasumi outside the hotel on Illium."

Shepard gave a noncommittal grunt. "So what happens if somebody does violate the holy writ?"

"They go away," replied Wick.

The Commander felt a little amusement at that. "That's all? You don't put their head on a pike or something? Something medieval feels fitting for this place."

Wick smiled and actually looked a little sad. "The Organization is a bunch of bad people, for sure. But they're not sadistic."

Shepard had a goodly-sized swig of his scotch. "Well, at least they're not like Cerberus in that regard."

"I have to ask...you clearly don't like Cerberus. So why work with them at all?"

Shepard stared into his tumbler. "I have no choice, at least not right now." He looked up at the wood-paneled wall across from the bar, not really seeing it. "I saved the Council's ass, you know."

"I don't, actually."

"Heh. I'm surprised, the Alliance military's PR department made sure to spread the news far and wide. Yeah, I gave the order, right in the middle of the Battle of the Citadel. That fancy super-dreadnaught of theirs had taken a big hit from Sovereign and was in the middle of getting pecked to death by the geth. I told the Fifth Fleet to go in and get the Destiny Ascension out of danger. A bunch of human ships got shot to shit doing it, too."

"How many died?" Wick didn't sound judgmental, just curious.

Shepard took a breath. "Six hundred and twenty nine humans dead or missing. Of course, the Ascension had about twice that in asari casualties after getting that smack from the Reaper. And the turians lost about eight hundred." He blew out a breath. "Still, it was my call. Six hundred and twenty-nine."

"There are times when I'm glad to be just a simple leg-breaker," replied Wick.

The Commander felt his teeth clench. "You wanna know the real bitch of it? I get my ass blown into space, wake up two years later, and find out that the goddamn Council has decided that the whole 'Reaper' thing is just a hysterical fable. And they're giving me, the one who gave the call to save their worthless collective ass, the hairy eyeball because Cerberus are the ones who resuscitated me. As if I had a fucking choice."

"You could just cut Cerberus out of the loop, you know," said Wick. "You've got a ship now."

Shepard looked up at Wick. The slim and bearded man actually started back a bit. The Commander knew that in the dimly-lit bar his own eyes were faintly glowing. "Not right now, I can't." He tapped his temple next to his eyes. "I have no idea how much tracking shit they've got inside me. For all I know, The Illusive Man is getting a good look at you right now through my eyes."

"Well, just in case he is..." Wick saluted Shepard with his glass.

The Spectre chuckled at that. "And I also need the Cerberus research network. Getting through the Omega-Four relay is going to take a lot of dedicated effort. And after that, I get to try and take out a race that's been around for at least a few thousand years."

"Kasumi told be a little about what the Collectors are up to," replied Wick. "I can't believe that nobody in charge is doing anything about it."

Shepard shrugged. "The colonies they hit are outside Council and Alliance space. If they do any large-scale military incursion to protect those colonies, then the Terminus Systems will take it as a provocation. Fucking politics."

"So you're going after them with one ship?" asked Wick. He sounded a little disbelieving. "That sounds like suicide."

The Commander raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Not really. The Collectors killed me once before and it just pissed me off."

Wick laughed as the bartender tapped his shoulder. "Sir? The tailor is ready for you."

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Bast had saved Gabby's life on at least one occasion, but right now the operative was getting on her nerves.

"You sure this is going to work?" she asked for the tenth time while Gabby checked her clipboard. The clipboard was the key to Gabby's whole outfit, the rest of which consisted of a bright orange coverall and hard hat. Bast was similarly dressed, and Gabby wondered if the taller woman's nervousness was due to the fact she was no longer dressed in chic designer suits.

"Trust me," she said to Bast. "A confident attitude and a clipboard works better than Kasumi's cloak." The engineer pulled open the access panel of the kiosk-like substation and began scanning over the fiber optic cables within.

Bast looked around. "But we're in broad daylight, in the middle of a sidewalk!" she muttered. "What if somebody asks what we're doing?"

Gabby sighed and handed her clipboard to Bast. "Just hold this and act like you're reading off a checklist to me." To her credit, Bast complied. Gabby soon found the particular bundle she was looking for. One deft cut and module insertion later, and she shut the panel with satisfaction. She took the clipboard back from Bast and made a great show of making a large check-mark on it with her stylus. "Now let's skedaddle."

"But skedaddle confidently?" asked Bast with a smile.

"You got it."

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John had to suppress a grin as he watched Shepard stand awkwardly just past the inner door of the Normandy's airlock. The Commander had gone with a navy blue suit which, of course, also incorporated the very finest that the Organization could supply in passive body armor.

Garrus was apparently the ship's self-appointed fashion czar, since he was first in line to meet them. He looked Shepard over and nodded his approval. "I like it. The pin-striping is nice and subtle. It's maybe a little conservative in the cut, but it does look dignified."

"Dignified? I feel like a baboon's ass." Shepard shrugged his shoulders as if constrained by a straitjacket. He pointed a thumb at John. "This guy insisted that I wear it all the way back here."

"You've got to get used to it," said John. He saw Mackie standing a little farther up the passageway and gave the young man a wink. "You need to be walking through that party like you've worn a suit your whole life."

Shepard sighed. "All right. Oh, before I forget...I need to talk to what's-her-name...Persephone? I need her involved in my little scheme to get us a few guns."

John was surprised at the little pang of fear that came over him upon hearing that. It was ridiculous, of course. Persephone could handle anything that he could. She'd been doing covert ops for longer than he'd been alive. And beside, John was going to be walking right into the belly of the beast. If anything, he was in greater danger.

But in spite of John Wick's reasoning with himself, that little lump of fear refused to go away.

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"You think you can do it?" asked Shepard. He stood next to Persephone in the hangar deck of the Normandy as they both looked at the terminal display that floateed over a workbench near the entrance to the hangar.

The only other person in the hangar was off in a small makeshift gym tucked away in the hangar deck's far corner. He'd been introduced earlier as Jacob, but he'd tended to avoid John Wick and his crew. Probably because he was a Cerberus operative like Miranda. Jacob was in the middle of doing what looked to be fifteen thousand chin-ups, and the dark skin of his shirtless torso glistened with sweat.

Persephone avoided looking both at Jacob's muscled torso and at Shepard's weirdly scarred face. She concentrated instead on the picture in front of her. "Sure thing. I'll need to do some makeup to look like her. And I need some lifts, since she's taller than me. But yeah, the rest of it is no problem."

Now she did glance over at Shepard. "You'll need some makeup as well, to hide your scars."

Shepard nodded, his face neutral. "Yeah. Dr. Chakwas says they should heal up after a while, but for now I guess just covering them up should work."

There was a long moment that was filled with the distant sound of Jacob's grunting. Persephone could feel the tension between her and Shepard. She'd never confronted him to find out if he knew who she was, and he'd never given the slightest hint that he recognized her...until now, with this very long silence.

Finally Shepard spoke. "You should go visit Liara. She'll be glad to know you're alive."

Persephone laughed a bit and felt her own tension ebb. "That's supposed to be my line to you."

Shepard actually looked surprised at that. "Really?"

"I heard it straight from her mouth. She misses you."

He leaned back against the workbench and crossed his arms. "I'm glad to hear that." But he didn't sound happy.

Persephone tentatively reached out and touched his forearm. "Trust me, she's not angry at all. She told me the whole story."

He gave a dark chuckle. "Really? I didn't think she'd want to talk about something so embarrassing."

She laughed as well, but her laugh was much more sunny. "There may have been a lot of alcohol involved. I am curious, though. Why didn't you take her up on her offer? You'd just stolen a frigate, after all, so Alliance regulations were right out the window."

Shepard looked away. "It wouldn't have been right. Liara was over a hundred years old, but emotionally she was still just a damn kid. And just she'd lost her mother...fuck, she had to help kill her mother. So I was willing to give her whatever emotional support she needed, but..." He trailed off.

"But no schtupping?" asked Persephone with a grin.

"Where the hell did you pick up that word?"

"I lived for a while on Earth. Listen, Liara understands now that you did the right thing. She's matured a hell of a lot in the last two years. She still loves you, but more like...the big sister that she never had."

Shepard smiled. "Weird. From the way she described you, I thought she felt that way about you."

She shook her head. "Nah. I was away too much. I was more the crazy-but-fun traveling aunt who kept bringing her gifts from exotic places." Persephone took one last look at the picture on the display. "Anyway, that's the last part of the plan settled. Let's do this thing."