"You are Marco, correct?"

Grimacing, he nodded in confirmation, and Sinclair continued.

"The hell of it all is this - you're going to have to keep it alive."

Marco chortled to that seemingly insane notion. The men behind him joined in the laughter while VJ and Chicco gazed on, curiously.

Sinclair paused for a moment of assessment.

They will only take your message seriously if you give it to them straight.

"I said what I said, and don't take it wrong, like I need the damn thing for anything of my own. It is not for me that you're going to keep it alive. It is to save your enterprise.

"Capturing the dragon alive is the only way you will be able to retain your data from your now useless servers. You see gentlemen, when the Nanospores send dragon mothers in these densidad events, they serve a purpose.

"A very specific one. They are designed to strip the data, along with the metallic and crystalline resources from which your servers are built and protect that acquisition in the form of a dragon.

"So gentleman, you will need to clip the wings, and damage its limbs, but keep its head, body and tail intact."

Marco nodded, and he turned his scowl into a grin to let her know that he got the message. She realized as well she could not simply use the multi-tool's drill nor its jagged saw to retrieve the drone.

"That's a tall order, but I appreciate your frankness, ma'am -?"

"Call me Sinclair."

He offered his hand and they shook with vigor.

"If there is nothing else that you have in mind, I'd like to see your files, gather the boys together, mete out a strategy."

She removed the confidential intel index from the drive bank of her PA, gathered several thick sheets of the facsimile paper they could use to transfer visual aid to plot their course of action. She downloaded the map of the suite of server rooms on one of the sheets.

Marco took the items, thanked her, and spread them out on the bar which the crew leaned around. Sinclair returned to her console, she wanted to take a look at the recorded footage before the dragon swallowed the Victorinox.

Sinclair ran a search through the data for any other creatures that she may have not spotted with her own eyes. Where were the flechettes, for instance? Were they just an advanced positioned troop used to soften up the physical defenses?

Without the AI assist she would have never spotted them. The flechettes dangled from a cross rail above the stairs that led into the first server room which was a hub for three larger rooms. Flipping through the marked screenshots, Sinclair counted nine flechettes hanging dormant from the rail. However, that did not mean there were not others in areas that did not reveal themselves to the Victorinox scrying eyes.

With what did you use to fight them? She conducted a search in her data base. Traditionally, 12 gauge combat shotguns loaded with UV emitting buckshot tended to be the most effective defense against them.

Sinclair glanced over to the crew to do a little inventory on what weapons they had on them. None had the 4 gauge Drozd to which Chico was armed. They each carried strapped on their backs 12 gauge Mossberg combat carbines.

Her familiarity with the weapon was limited, but she could tell that though easily identified as Mossberg's, these were heavily modified from the standard profile.

For instance, the barrels were rifled to keep the shot pattern narrowed, and were only ten inches in length.

Their sidearms were all of a different make from one another. Two of the squad men wore revolvers of high caliber, and the other two carried large double stacked repeater pistols.

Marco's gun, due to him being on the bar side of the counter, was not visible to her. VJ had retreated to the Men's lavatory.

Sinclair turned back to the console, and she flipped the hologram display on, and fast forwarded the video to her confrontation with Felicité. There was something that she did not pay attention to at the time, and that was the contraption on Felicité's ear.

It was an ocular dampener, but for what purpose? Sinclair got a fix on the object as she sifted through several viewpoints captures. She punched in a search on the database that remained in her possession.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

This type of dampener even though partially classified showed as being registered for use in schizophrenic treatment. It was quite evident that there was more to its functionality than that usage even without the redacted descriptors she could not access.

She compared models of ocular dampeners, and the functions that they served. The models for mental health treatment tended to be much more streamlined then the elaborate contraption she was staring at.

Finally, after sifting through several models designed for mental health treatment with search criterion that narrowed for diagnostic evaluation based on different forms of cerebral dysfunction, it dawned on Sinclair that the particular mental health related function of this model was to dampen Manifest possession.

Sinclair punched commands in the console.

Felicité's head turned slowly in the holographic visualization comprised of ten billion voxels. Sinclair stared at the visage. Was the hacker even human at this point?

Just what the fuck do we have here?

Something else occurred to Sinclair. Manifest possession explained why the anarchist's motivations were so incomprehensible. She was at the behest of Dark Lords comprised of AI, and not those inspired by the occult.

Sinclair typed in the name Felicité Antonella Paz into her search. Nothing returned. She typed in Grim, and the words Ciudad del Este Metro Collision 2064. Several reports on the incident that killed 57 people returned in the search, and she carefully cross referenced them for the name of Felicité Antonella Paz, but no name for the perpetrator returned.

The latest report was updated just a few weeks previously.

Grim's name should be there. It is not a secret at this point, certainly.

Unfortunately, the very building that housed the Grosse Point Cyber Security facility was designed not to allow signals to bounce in or out of the building, so she could not test run on the greater internet, nor the firm's intranet due to their highly unusual security procedures.

Sinclair smacked her flat hand against the leather of the booth seat beside her, and cursed beneath her breath.

She would double check later when she had the chance, but Sinclair already knew the answer. Without doubt she would have stumbled upon the hacker's name simply by accident given her previous searches for answers to the invasion against her Egliona Entity database.

The true answer to why the real name of Grim never came up was she was being prevented from finding that data by a security classification used specifically against her that derailed any effort she made to find it.

Perhaps that asshole is right, I am incompetent.

As Sinclair meditated on the greater implications of that epiphany that she was on a quarantined status, she heard a shuffle directly behind her.

"Ma'am, Sinclair? If you have a minute?"

It was Marco.

She swiveled towards him.

"Sure, what can I do?"

"My cousin, Chicco, tells me that you are a pretty good shot. Mind if I see your gun?"

She blushed at the thought of being bragged upon as she handed over the Megallani Viaggio 22LR revolver.

"I'm not very anxiety prone, so I tend to keep a steady hand no matter what. But my long distance aim is crap. Pure crap."

Marco shook his head as he lined his eye against the sites. He pressed the laserdot into action. The virtual scope appeared above the top rail.

It transfered data from the laser back to the gun in the form of an image focus. It could target to the other side of Vida Escondida, but due to gravity induced drop off, it's effective range was at best 160 meters.

He turned his head back to speak to her.

"I doubt that is going to matter much. I've done some measurements in the server room. The longest shot is 35 meters before you hit a wall, or a server bank."

Marco squinted curiously. He double checked the site as he lined it up. He moved it a few degrees to another object, a drinking mug, and lined it up once more.

"Now that is very curious. What is that color graph on the side supposed to do?"

Sinclair was excited she had something in her knowledge bank that she knew but the professional soldier did not.

"That is a gauge for projected bullet penetration. It's set up for sixteen gradients from cool blue to red hot pink on the scale. That cool blue means that no penetration is expected. Red hot pink means that it's going to sail all the way through with little resistance."

He took a round out of the reserve compartment and rolled it between his fingers.

"I can see how that would be quite an advantage when sizing up your chances of success with a gun that takes a low caliber like this twenty-two long rifle round."

Marco further examined the double storage compartments that rode like a bottom stack beneath the barrel.

He spoke, excitedly.

"How that feeds into the chamber is simply curious. This little beauty has an extensive number of innovations built into it. You must have spent a little fortune on it."

She smiled, and reached her hand out.

"The designer is a good friend of mine who lives in Asunción."

Marco chuckled as he returned the gun and the round that he examined.

"Giuseppe Magellani is everyone's friend."

She held the gun low between them so Marco could get a good look at what she was doing.

"I have two different types of rounds that are loaded in the revolver. Right now the twin compartments have white phosphorus tipped bullets in the rounds loaded up there. Whereas, conventional rippers are loaded in the revolver chamber. I can switch them out like this as an entire unit."

Within a few seconds the revolver made a swirling noise after she pressed a left side switch.

"Now, the rippers are inside the double compartments, and the white phosphorus rounds are chambered."

To that Marco whistled.

"I wonder how much it would set me back if I had Giuseppe build me one of these in a 357."

Marco whistled once more.

"Nice gun, truly nice. It will help with the small game we will be facing, but- ," Sinclair flinched; she had a feeling that his combat readiness assessment was leading up to this, "- I'm going to need you to have a backup weapon."

He slid a RIA TAC-Ultra 10mm from out of his boot holster. A beautiful old codgy fud weapon - only an iron sight and no modern equipment attached to it beyond a tri-dot laser hanging from the bottom rail.

She laughed with a pneumatic and nervous hardness that made Sinclair grab her abdomen.

"No way would I be able to handle that!"

Confidently, Marco smiled. His dark eyes pointed to the door.

"Sure you can, and I'll show you how."

"Now?"

He nodded, firmly.

"Yes. Right now."