DIVISION 52 - BOOK II

CHAPTER XVII

P R O X I M O

We walked calmly. Slowly. We held drinks and false faces. We smiled at the rebels that were celebrating this night. Celebrating that the Division's leader was rumoured critically injured or presumed dead.

The music was loud and the lights low in this shit hole I would soon bring to its knees.

Makayla nodded her head easily and leant the back of her elbows on the bar dressed in foreign gear that matched those around us. Our vanguard's completely invisible and superior to anything they wore. Unconcealed weapons were at her hips and a lazy smile on her lips as a buffoon lectured her on how to assemble a fusion rifle correctly. She played the game better than I gave credit for.

With one quick dip of my head she broke from the bar and trailed behind me. We slipped through the crowds of rebels in the underground bar that teemed with cheap liquor and false hope. The faces we wore were originally generated, non trackable and no back story needed. Faces that could blur into the crowds under rebel colours.

Dazz was either here or she wasn't. It mattered little for now. 

Now was the time to get our own intelligence on these scum. To break them from the inside. She may have the weapons codes–the Silver Sun tools, but it meant little if she had a fusion round through the head.

I hit a man's shoulder, deep in thought and gave him a false apology with an easy grin. The soldier dismissed me with a bottle salute. Yes, smile while you can...

I led us to the edge of the cavernous room and pressed a palm to the wall key. A virus went straight from my wrist comm into the security system. The keypad flashed green and the door slid open.

"It's almost unfair." I muttered. Striding through and glancing at the cameras above that now showed a looped feed of the corridor. The door slid shut behind us and the music was muffled in heavy beat against the walls. 

Makayla drew a pistol from her hip and secured a suppressor to the barrel–then a blade under it. I pulled a fully automatic plasma rifle from my back and did the same. Untraceable weapons. But they would know exactly who dared such a thing.

I met her eyes that were not her own. She met mine.

"Every person beyond those doors is an enemy of Division 52. We move quickly and silently. The building only needs to know we're here when we've hit the sidewalk again. Clear?" 

"I expect nothing less, Second." She retorted with a level look.

I nodded and moved forward to the corridor end. "We're here for intelligence. Anything else is a bonus." I growled, palming the wall again and the doors opened to me. 

Music from a different set of speakers was loud and the room was filled with cigar smoke. I couldn't have asked for better conditions. A group of them sat around a poker table with nano chips splayed all over. I lowered my hand and we dropped into crouches ducking behind a sofa. The bass was heavy and you couldn't even make out the sound as the doors slid shut behind us.

A man shouted something in victory and threw a bottle against the wall.

I marked two fingers on my hand. Makayla understood and dropped me a nod. I moved quickly to dart behind a set of weapons crates with our brand on the metal sides. It only made what happened next more satisfying.

I tightened a fist and we both stood from cover. Two shots each. Four targets neutralised.

No more conversation.