The best loot is often found in the most unlikely of places – common saying

Operation Giga Pudding (D-65 hours)

The wind whipped through T.C.’s hair as the Aetherhawk climbed higher into the sky.

“I should of worn a flight cap,” T.C. yelled to Tauru and waited for an answer.

The plane’s motor roared when Tauru increased the speed as needed to clear the top of the mountain.

“I said I should have worn a cap!” T.C. yelled again, and again Tauru didn’t answer.

T.C. looked over the edge of the cockpit and past the wing. Down below he saw the mountain range end and turn to desert. Tauru banked the plane, making a sharp right.

He reduced the altitude and followed a pair of tracks in the sand. T.C. sat back and decided to send a message instead.

> TC:> I should have worn a cap!

>

> Tauru:> I made the same mistake on my 1st flight

>

> Heather:> This is a war-time channel that should be used during battle days only!

>

> Whisper:> Absolutely, I’m in the middle of weapon maintenance.

T.C. sat back and dipped his head below the glass screen. Tauru continued to follow the tracks as the sun turned a brilliant shade of purple. In the distance, the twinkling of lights began to appear.

Tauru flew over a walled village with five structures nestled in the middle. Parked outside were various vehicles, each one different from the others. A dune buggy with oversized tires was parked closest to the wall. Next to vehicle was an all-terrain truck, equipped with reinforced suspension and a trailer with a heavy-duty cargo hold.

Among these more conventional vehicles were two speeders, their sleek, aerodynamic bodies were painted bright neon colors.

T.C. recognized a few vehicles, the others he guessed were custom-made.

As they passed, the village lights grew brighter, casting long shadows across the sand and illuminating the inside walls with murals depicting desert animals and gang sigils.

Once the Aetherhawk landed Tauru and T.C. jumped out. The smell of burning wood from within the walls wafted through the air. T.C. tried to push his dishwater blonde hair down but refused to stay in place.

“Why did you use the spare cap?” asked Tauru.

“Spare cap? Where?” asked T.C.

Tauru pointed inside the plane and under his seat. T.C. sighed and threw up his hands.

Hoping to change the subject T.C. said, “Thanks for coming to Little Venice with me.”

“No problem, though I don’t get why you didn’t bring your girl with you instead?” Tauru asked.

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” T.C. said pointing with his thumb towards the dune buggy.

Spray painted on the wall in bright blue letters was the phrase ‘Queen Prix suck Dix’, and four painted penises above a bowling pin capped with a crown.

Tauru rubbed his eyes with the side of his hand. He then squinted at the graffiti.

“Those dicks seem to be…”

“Glowing? Yeah, Whisper found some luminous paint made from a fungus or something. They tried to get rid of it, but it grows back in an hour,” T.C. said with a half chuckle. “It earned her a lifetime ban; she almost got me banned too.”

Tauru shrugged his broad shoulders and took a long step. His foot landed with a loud ‘thunk’. He paused. Then tapped the ground with the tip of his foot on the ground.

The ground sounded hollow. He then stomped his foot. The hollow sound was louder.

“I know, it freaked me out too when I first got here,” T.C. said. “It has something to do with the desert sand. Heck, I’m still not used to it.”

“It’s like walking on wooden floorboards,” Tauru said kicking the ground a few times more.

Tauru stuck his foot in the ground and gouged out a bit of sand.

“It’s best not to think about it,” T.C. said as he tapped Tauru on the arm.

“Perhaps you’re right,” replied Tauru.

T.C. and Tauru walked towards the entrance. When they approached a pay turnstile, T.C. jumped over it and a light overhead turned red. Tauru followed behind him. Teams from the Red and Blue factions were standing outside of the bar, loitering about.

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They spoke in hushed whispers and concealed sign language, often with their backs turned to hide their silent conversation.

“Where’s go-home-gold?” asked Tauru.

“They are too high and mighty to mingle with us commoners,” T.C. said as they walked into the bar.

The inside of the bar was lit with neon signs. Viewing screens lined the walls, each one tuned to a different station. Signed pictures, posters, and flags filled the remaining free space in the bar.

Patrons, only five of them, were clustered around on a screen that was scrolling through names of combatants and their current statistics and kill/death/assist ratio, ranking, and threat rating.

T.C. peered over the shoulders checking on the names when the monitor changed to the assassin /hunter class. Once he saw his name, T.C. huffed and walked back towards Tauru, kicking over a chair in the process. He picked up the chair and plopped down with a grunt.

“Don’t worry, we’re only in mid-season, there’s still time to get your threat level up,” Tauru said patting him on the back. “Hell, you still have a higher bounty on you than Boss Kitty, even before we signed that stupid non-aggression pact with Red.”

“I guess,” T.C. said as he pulled out a knife and began to spin it around the table.

A balding man with round-rimmed, red-tinted glasses, slicked-back hair, and kaki brown shorts pulled up a chair and sat between T.C. and Tauru.

“Pete,” T.C. said, acknowledging the man, but not turning away from his knife.

“Tunnel Cat, it’s good to see you,” Pete replied.

Pete grinned, showing off a gold-capped canine tooth with a red diamond.

“I’m…” Tauru started to say.

“Tauru Thornewood, the Peek-A-Boo Prince, that was absolutely brilliant what you did to Citadel. Just…wow,” Pete said, extending his hand for a fist bump.

T.C. shifted his feet under the table, pointing them towards the door.

“The name’s Sneaky Pete Robinson, I’m into acquisitions, logistics, and information brokering,” Pete said showing off his gold tooth again.

Tauru gave him a fist bump and said, “So you were the contact who wanted to buy Neusilber’s Pocket Secretary.”

“That could have made us a lot of money, with emphasis on a lot,” Pete said, and he snapped his fingers and pointed to the table. “Three beers. First rounds on me gents.”

“By the way kid, got your stuff,” Pete said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a computer tablet and unlocked the screen. He scrolled through a list.

“Let’s see, I got the 808 Kickdrums, self-sealing stem bolts, silver wire, copper plates, Aether Feathers, and the other item you want me to keep on the down low,” he said lowering his voice and leaning closer. “But before I make the transfer I need to ask. What the hell are you going to do with 4,588 speech balloons?”

T.C.'s complexion turned a ghostly pale, the rosy tints of life seemingly retreating from his cheeks. Across from him, Tauru’s brow furrowed in bewilderment, his gaze locked onto T.C. while he stared at his knife.

“Keep your voice down,” T.C. said. “You want everyone in Battle City to hear you? ‘Sides, I can’t really talk about it.”

Pete sat back in his chair and rested his arm on the back.

“Oh, for fucks sake, how long have we been friends? You know me,” Pete said.

Tauru cracked his knuckles and clenched his jaw, but Sneaky Pete pressed on. T.C. signed and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Fine, transfer my order and I’ll fill you in, ok?” T.C. asked, his voice lowering as Pete nodded. “This is between us and doesn’t leave the bar.”

Sneaky Pete ran his finger along his throat and covered his mouth with two fingers. T.C. leaned closer, glancing over his shoulder to check for eavesdroppers. Pete pressed a few buttons on his table and gave a thumbs up. A woman in brown capri pants walked by, dropping off three beers. With a slight twirl on her heels, she was gone.

Once the transfer was complete T.C. said in a near audible whisper, “Our Boss Kitty is being an ultimate doomsday device.”

“She’s already got an artifact and two legendary weapons, what does she need a doomsday device for?”

“I told you to keep your voice down,” T.C. hissed. “It’s gonna be a freakin’ game breaker. You know how in season III she ran the board with the Super Positioning skill?”

“Yeah?”

“It will be like that, but worse,” T.C. said, checking over his shoulder once more. “She got the idea during the Fort Carré battle from Tauru here. She’s making an item called Crown of Thorns. Tauru and anyone on our crew who receives damage will transfer it to Estelle. Then…I think I said too much already.”

“Tunnel Cat, you know me. I ain’t no snitch,” Pete pleaded.

T.C. leaned a hair’s distance away from Pete. Their eyes were locked on each other.

“Using a combination of Witch Sight and Eye-for-an-Eye she can spike anyone on the field. Someone can be hiding behind an NPC, but it will be pop, pop, dead. Next target and pop, pop, dead,” T.C. said.

Pete sat back in his chair and folded his hands. His eyes scanned T.C. searching for hints of deception.

“Hold on a sec, why do you need to Kickdrums for?” Pete asked.

T.C. grinned and nodded towards Tauru, who covered his face with his hand and shook it.

“Kickdrums are a distraction, red herring, you know to keep info brokers off our real plan. Boss Kitty is going to convert the speech balloons into thorns. Everything else she can break down into its base components for the crown,” T.C. said, on his lips he had a boyish grin.

“That actually…makes sense,” Pete said, covering his mouth and rubbing his chin.

Tauru studied his beer and drank the entire mug before slamming it on the table. T.C. and Pete sipped their beers.

Pete snatched up the mug and stood up, “One sec, let me get you a refill.”

When Pete’s back was turned, Tauru took T.C.’s beer and finished it off. T.C. opened his inventory and began to push a few buttons.

“Guess I’ll have to transfer this to our crew’s item vault,” T.C. said.

Tauru picked up the empty mug and pointed, Pete told the bartender one more.

“Think Boss Kitty will be mad; you know that we bought all that extra stuff?” T.C. asked cautiously. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“You know how she feels about clutter but let me give you a word of advice when you tell her,” Tauru said.

T.C. perked up and smiled, “Yeah?”

“Before you tell her, let me know…so I can be somewhere else.”

“I’m so dead,” T.C. said as he slumped in his chair.

***