The light in the room disappeared, and Mel shot up in the air just before two rounds spun out from the window.

In Tasìa's estimation, the rounds were shot from a .32 pistol with a suppressor attached to the barrel. She raised the Stealth 338 LAP, ready to take the fucker who shot at Mel down as soon as he poked his head out of the window.

Whoever it was, her task was made much easier when the door was shut. The light added visual noise to an otherwise smooth interpolation of the world around her via the IR riding goggles.

Then she caught sight of him.

Motherfuckin' Hugo Brassi!

As his hands, one with a pistol held in it, draped across the window sill, Brassi leaned his head to peek outside.

Tasìa aimed the rifle at the side of his forehead. She was careful to avoid the temple. She had made Brassi a promise, and she wanted him to remain alive long enough to witness the fruition of that vow.

The note she had left on his desk back at the IMCQ:

Lieutenant Hugo Brassi,

You are one stupid motherfucker. I hope you are not overly attached to the material wealth in your life because you are soon to lose it all.

Signed,

Tasìa del Alma-Gris,

The Angel of Theft.

She had little doubt then that she would run into the piece of shit once she escaped out in the wild. Now that his head was perfectly arranged figuratively on that platter she had always imagined, Tasìa relished the moment in which she now lived.

The very air in its humid breeze tasted of saltwater taffy on her tongue.

Brassi whispered, "Rubin? Rubin? You there? Fuck! Did she get past you?"

Tasìa pulled the trigger, and Brassi's head snapped to the side with what appeared to be a highly unpleasant thunk.

It left a bloody scrape streaked across his forehead.

His upper torso fell against the window sill. Tasia shouldered the rifle, walked up to the window, and pulled Brassi through it.

After he dropped to the ground, Tasìa dragged him to the hedges and propped him face down against Rubin's ass.

Tasia looked down at her victims contemptuously.

I ought to just lay a piss stream into the both of them, right here and now. Then arrange the two fuckers together in a sixty-nine!

But Tasìa shook her head and admonished herself for her devious thoughts.

So very mature of you, Tasìa. It's as if you never left the seminary.

Tasìa retrieved Brassi's gun. A pretty sweet, top-of-the-line Walther PPQ M2 chambered for a .40 SW round with a suppressor attachment and an extended 7-inch barrel

It was a substantially higher caliber pistol than she expected given the low and tight whisper of sound that came out of it.

She had never before seen this particular sound suppressor with its odd inline segmentation, but the beveled design of it radiated quality.

The gun and its attachments were going into her collection.

Tasìa unfolded a netted laundry bag and placed the Walther inside of it after detaching the suppressor.

Stolen story; please report.

Next, she searched Brassi's ID and grinned satisfactorily as she memorized the address listed on it. He had IDs for access to several exclusive and sensitive areas in the greater Asunción metropolis. Including the SkyTether.

When were these made? Before or after he was shitcanned from the IMCQ?

She'd have to check on that later.

In his wallet was also another item that perked her interest. It was a blue key card formed from thin, matted tin. It bore an imprinted sequence of eight Roman numerals on a background that consisted of the same motif of Christ being devoured by two wolves which she had discovered in his office at the IMCQ.

On the opposite side, viewed like a dollar bill, the word 'Lupus IV', was written at the top, and 'Vita Occulta' was written at the bottom.

Translated from Latin to Spanish, that would be Vida Escondida. Her stomping grounds when she was living the high life.

Very Curious...

Tasìa stripped him of all his other valuables. A watch, a signet ring that bore a Lupus IV engraving, a wedding ring, a necklace, and most unexpectedly, a studded scarab broach attached to his right nipple.

Another symbol from his fraternal order, perhaps?

They all went into the bag.

Tasìa shifted over to Rubin. Poor bastard. His second mugging in a little more than twenty-four hours

She felt him up and found a gun strapped to the inside of his belt.

When she pulled it out of its holster, Tasìa could not have been more disappointed. The gritty polymer grip and odd grip angle felt weird in her hands.

In her estimation, the most aesthetically unappealing scrap of materials and overrated firearm ever assembled

Ewww! Fuck. A Glock!

Tasìa quickly disassembled it and scattered its parts to the wind. She kept the magazine of 10mm rounds, though.

After bagging the magazine extension, she searched more thoroughly. Though he had not replaced his jewelry, the mesh-alloyed, sheathed-styled boots were a valuable pair.

She stripped them off of his feet and added the boots to the collection.

He had replaced the IDs and credit cards she had taken the previous night. She chucked the wallet into the bag.

Demona stood by the wall beside her.

"Hilarious," She began. "Their personnel resources officer is going to be upset with Mr. Estes."

Tasìa chuckled. "I'm not sure how Rubin is going to file his paperwork with a missing finger. Where have you been?"

Demona bobbed her head oddly as she shook her head.

"I didn't want to disturb you. For the past five minutes, you have appeared to be in an unvarnished state of ecstasy. You must have history with this other gentleman."

Tasìa nodded. She looked down into Brossi's eyes. They did not move, but there was no reason why he could not hear her speak.

"I have never so much as spoken to the man one-on-one, but to him, I was nothing more than another body to propel him forward in his career mobility."

A notion came to her. Tasìa looked towards where Rubin stood in front of the window. She caught sight of the severed digit and went over to retrieve it.

Continuing where she left off, Tasìa spoke again.

"And for that, I vow to destroy him so utterly and to such an extent that he is made radioactive for anyone to dare get near.

"That is why I won't kill him outright just yet. He has to suffer. He has to know."

With that said, Tasìa leaned over Hugo Brassi with a wide smile. She displayed Rubin's severed index finger for him to see just before she placed it in his right nostril and twisted it inside as far as it would go.

My seminary sisters would definitely approve!

When Tasìa finished with her antics, she crept further down the side of Beauregard's house. She squatted, leaned against the wall, and studied the key card for a moment before slapping her other hand with it.

Demona squatted beside her.

"There is something bothering you, Tasìa?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. Those suspicions we just talked about are creeping back into my mind. How does Brassi know my lover boy? And is Beauregard a member of this fucked-up Neo-Roman wannabes pact?"

Demona snarled.

"I checked into it while you were going loot-happy."

"And?"

"Nothing definite. But I don't think so. I have pinned down the moment they met at a gun club firing range, where they happened to both be members. Two years ago, on one occasion, they time stamped in to the range thirteen minutes apart, but, upon leaving, they time stamped out at the same time.

"It appears they met right then and there and became acquaintances with a mutual interest. If there is anything else to the relationship beyond that, I have nothing conclusive to go on either way."

Tasìa glanced over to the nearby window.

"By my estimation, that should be his bedroom. Demona, if you could do me a favor, could you deactivate the monitoring devices and indulge me for five minutes while I do a search?"

Demona looked up.

"Tasìa, you sounded pretty serious about your intentions of having a life together with Beauregard. Were you? Serious in your intentions, I mean."

Tasia scratched at her elbow as she spoke.

"Hell yes."

Demona pointed with her thumb to the window.

"Then, don't do it. No relationship can survive that kind of distrust and paranoia because once you start down that path, you won't be able to stop. Paranoia is habitual."

"But," Tasìa started.

"No. Don't do it. When you meet him let him know of your concerns. If he admits he is in Brassi's fraternity, make it clear his loyalties cannot be divided between it and you.

"Be up front. Trust me, in the spook world, it is the only way a relationship can survive."

Tasìa glanced again at the window, but she shook her head and stood up.

"Come on, Demona. Let's get out of here and retrieve that NeoPalm of yours."