Meanwhile, in an empty storefront in the Marketplace...


How long had he been here, tied to this chair, blindfolded and seemingly alone? Minutes? Hours? Days? Fred tried to remember what had happened. He'd just finished his shift at the Shambles Clinic and was on his way home, looking forward to his nightly beer and perusal of the gossip rags. He knew that no matter what they said, Jon Granger was not using drugs again, though he wasn't too sure about that Aimee Savage. No one could have eyes like that and be clean and sober.

Then five armed men, wielding short, wickedly sharp swords and heavily weighted clubs, appeared suddenly in his path. He had put up a struggle, but they started flying through the air at him, aiming punches and kicks far too fast for him to even follow visually much less try to defend against. Someone struck him over the back of his head and the world went black. Fred had woken up later and found himself in this empty room, bound to a chair. He couldn't see and for a moment panicked because he thought they'd taken his eyes. When he was able to calm himself a bit, he realised that he could see tiny pinpricks of light and felt fabric stretched tightly across the bridge of his nose. They hadn't taken his eyes; they'd merely blindfolded him.

?Hello?? he called out, listening to his voice echo off the walls of the room he was in. ?Is anyone there?? There was a shuffling sound from somewhere behind him, as if someone was moving closer to him and he felt a little jolt of fear mixed with hope. ?Hello? Please, help me. I've been kidnapped. Hello??

There was a sharp pain at the back of his head, where he'd been clubbed earlier. It felt as though someone had just grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked as hard as they could. He squealed in fright and a chorus of nasty laughter filled the room. A male voice near his ear said, ?Where do shipments of vaccine come from?? The speaker had an odd accent, one Fred had never heard before.

?I...I don't know,? Fred answered truthfully. At the moment, he couldn't even remember what a vaccine was. He wasn't sure he could truthfully answer with his own name if it came to it. The pain in the back of his head increased and he was certain he felt individual hairs coming out of his scalp. It was joined by a twin feeling in his left hand as someone dislocated his pinkie finger. When his screaming died down, the voice in his ear asked again, ?Where do vaccines come from??

Fred spilled all the information he could remember ? the nanomachines from Victor Kazon, the vaccines from Ed Batten, delivery times, drivers' names, everything he knew. He begged him for his life and when they were done asking him their questions, they removed his blindfold.

He blinked in the sudden harsh light and tried to make out the faces of his abductors but couldn't see past the bright light shining in his face. He looked around the room and saw a small table near his right side. It was covered with all sorts of tools ? hammers, screwdrivers, a hand-cranked drill, pliers, a wrench ? and a wire cage that held a mangy-looking sewer rat. Someone came from behind him and removed him from the chair. He was dragged to a table where he was bound hand-and-foot to its surface. A man dressed entirely in black with a deeply-cowled hood removed the rat from its cage and held it lovingly as he carried it over and placed it atop Fred's naked stomach. The rat was covered with a metal bucket. Its handler spoke; he was the same man who had just interrogated him. ?You will make good friends with Fuketsuna,? he said. ?He will know you inside and out." He struck a match and a small blowtorch came alive. Its flame was passed back and forth slowly over the metal bucket. And the rat's movements beneath that bucket took on a new urgency...

They had been smart, whomever was responsible for delivering this shipment of vaccine to the Shambles Clinic. The 14 small boxes of the drug had been loaded into two larger wooden crates and stacked into the back of an unassuming horse-drawn wagon before being covered with chickens in cages and wicker baskets full of fresh ears of corn, bunches of carrots, and braids of onion and garlic. Only the two drivers in the front of the wagon and the two other men sitting in the back gave away the secret of what was in those crates ? they were far too well-muscled and their eyes were far too hard and aware for them to be merely farmers on their way back home after a successful day of bartering in the Marketplace.

Since the Kakure-Kai had had only a few short hours to plan the attack and hijacking of the vaccine, the wakagashira, Kōtetsu, had decided to throw everything he had at the drivers and guards. They knew the delivery route, thanks to Fred's very generous gift of knowledge, so setting the ambush wouldn't be a problem. They hadn't been able to uncover what sort of protection the delivery would have, mostly because they weren't sure if someone had figured out the message of Fred's death. ?We will overwhelm them with superior numbers, our organisation, and firepower,? he told his men as they discussed the plan.

The ambush was set up just outside the border of the Shambles area, in a place where the guards would not yet be on edge. They would still be in one of the more civilised and well-protected areas of the city and the knowledge that there were frequent patrols of the City Watch would no doubt lull them into a false sense of ease. There were twelve kyodai and two shateigashira on hand, the second lieutenants being the ones who would actually remove the crates from the back of the wagon and load them onto their own wagon to be quickly taken back to the warehouse in WestEnd, where they would be held until someone paid their asking price.

Perhaps it was because the Kakure-Kai had gotten too c*cky lately with all the successes they'd had since first coming to Rhy'Din. Perhaps they still hadn't taken into account the wide variety of weaponry available in this strange little city. Perhaps they'd been anticipated by the delivery company. Whatever the reason ultimately was, the attack didn't quite go as planned.

The drivers and guards were more than ready for the Yakuza, and fought back hard in a pitched battle that rent the night-time quiet with the staccato of machine gun fire, the high-pitched whine of laser guns, the deafening boom of explosions and the mind-numbing screams of men dying in horrible, painful ways. Kōtetsu had been correct in his thinking, however ? the Kakure-Kai did eventually overwhelm the four guards with their superior numbers and after the smoke cleared, the guards were dead and the crates containing the vaccine gone. The Kakure-Kai left behind three dead, two more who would no doubt quickly follow them, and one who would survive to be questioned.

When the City Watch arrived on the scene, they quickly arrested the lone survivor, hauling him into custody to be questioned. Booking photos were released to the public, showing a cold-eyed Japanese man whose body was covered in colourful tattoos. Details of what had been at the centre of the attack, however, were not released for fear of inciting panic in the population. The Watch simply said that they were seeking the man's accomplices in an attack on a group of farmers coming back from the market.

Kōtetsu took care of notifying the public himself. As the sun rose early Friday morning, a series of phone calls was placed to Henry Davenport, Chief Attending at the Shambles Clinic, Governor Fionna al-Amat, and Darien Fenner of the Rhy'Din Post. In those phone calls, Kōtetsu stated his demands - $14 million ? and his terms ? the money was to be transferred to a numbered account in Singapore in six hours' time, or there would be another attack on another shipment. The calls were brief, thus avoiding any chance of tracing them and pinpointing their origin point, and no identifying information was given.

Rhy'Din had until noon that day to meet his demands, or more people would suffer and probably die.

Aid was coming, even if it had been unasked for.

He hadn't heard the news from the Governor's office, but rather from the city-wide audio monitoring network that Ed had so painstakingly set up in every public space manageable. The sounds of rioting had been picked up by the AI which was constantly monitoring the network for sound anomalies of violent nature.

And she was very good at her job - Ed had programmed her himself.

Two vehicles - armored vans, all bearing the Batten Industries shield logo - were dispatched to each location, their bulky shapes housing eight security personnel, including the drivers, all carrying the non-lethal OmniPulse Active Deterrent Weapon. On that point Leo had made it perfectly clear - no one was to draw their sidearms on any rioter unless they were carrying a firearm of their own and they fired first. All of them were also likewise outfitted with the OmniProof armor that had made Batten Industries so successful in the first place - full body suits and helmets to go with it - just in case such a situation arose.

While one group made their way to the Rose House and another to the modified warehouse serving as an isolation ward, Leo himself took the team headed for the Shambles Clinic.

The scene that met his eyes was not pretty. Rioters were about to break through the line of men that the Watch had sent, and they were being overwhelmed swiftly. That they had held their line to this point was, to the security chief's thinking, quite impressive - the mob outside that line was growing steadily larger by the moment.

As they pulled to a halt outside the clinic, Leo turned to his men in the back from the window.

"All right, men. You all know the drill. No one draws a sidearm unless they are fired upon first, and under no circumstances are you to aim for anything but for a wounding shot. Non-lethal tactics only. Watch your lines of fire, too. Start out with the sonic mode at a distance to start dispersing the crowd, Everyone understand that?"

Their only reply is a chorus of "Yes, sir!"

He looks them over for a moment before nodding once. "All right. Then let's get this crowd taken care of before they tear the building apart."

As he turned back to his door he noticed that a few of the rioters seemed to have noticed the van and were headed their way. Picking up his own OmniPulse, he cycled the lever six times, hearing the others doing the same in back. He waited until one of those in the lead had almost reached his door before he pulled the handle and kicked it open hard.

It was an old trick, but it worked every bit as well as it should have - the heavy door flew open and smashed into the man's face, knocking him back to the ground, his nose and lips bleeding profusely as Leo got out and stood over him. Moving the selector switch to the Electric setting, he turned and fired at another man trying to close in on him. A bolt of low-grade electrical energy ripped out at the man, dropping him in his tracks, where he lay twitching for a moment as the charge disrupted his nerve impulses.

Already, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other seven men and women forming a skirmish line, raising their weapons to the firing position. Cycling his own lever action once more, he switched the weapon back to the sonic mode and nodded towards the crowd. "Let 'em have it!" he shouted over the crowd.

As one they opened fire.

The effect was immediate - nearly everyone in the crowd let our mingled yelps and screams of pain, grabbing for their ears as the powerful sonic wave hit their tympanic membranes and caused intense pain, as though someone had driven icepicks into all of their ears simultaneously. Those that had been headed towards the eight of them immediately dropped to their knees and curled up into balls on the pavement, covering their ears as they writhed in agony.

They kept up the assault for twenty seconds, and finally Leo motioned for the others to cease, which they did almost immediately. As each of them cycled the lever actions to recharge their weapons, Leo spoke up into the sudden silence which pervaded the street, over the whimpers of agony and shouts of pain.

"You people are attacking a medical clinic which has nothing of value. Those inside are medical personnel who will do their best to help you as soon as they are able. Those who leave the area immediately and cease rioting will not be charged or harmed in any way!"

One of those closest had managed to get to his knees, turning his angry face back towards him. "Those people say they're out of the vaccine, man! I bet they're just hoarding it, using it for themselves...and you...you're here to help them!"

Leo was about to denounce that when others in the crowd added their shouts of agreement, and en masse they turned towards the team. One of them threw a rock, which missed. Another threw a bottle, which didn't, hitting one of his men in the head. If it weren't for his helmet the man would have been brained - as it was he was driven to a knee before her recovered himself, but held steady, looking to his boss for orders.

As the crowd began to advance, Leo spoke to them calmly. "Nuke mode, people. Let's take it up a notch." Reaching down, he turned the selector to ADW (Active Denial Wave), lifted, and pulled the trigger just as the others began to do the same, sweeping their weapons side to side in a controlled pattern.

The effect was immediate - as the low-grade microwave beams touched each person they screamed and fell to the ground, rolling around in agony or trying to crawl away from the instant, intense pain that burned along their skin. One man made the mistake of trying to charge the line and got the continuous-wave beam directly in the face, driving him to the ground as he let out a high-pitched scream of pain and tried to crawl away.

It didn't take long for the rioters to get the message - whatever it was these people were using, it may not have been causing physical harm, but the pain was inescapable, and - like flies fleeing offal at the wave of a hand - they began to scatter to all points of the compass.

It took the better part of an hour, as others came to try their hand at breaking the line of Batten Industries Security personnel, and each were taught a lesson in their turn.

But eventually the Clinic became a rioter-free zone.

As things began to calm down, Leo checked on his other teams via radio, and was gratified to hear they had met with similar successes. As soon as he made sure they had things under control, he pulled three of his team - all trained in field first-aid - from the newly re-established guard line where they were supplementing the Watch and training them how to use the spare OmniPulses they had brought with them, directing them to see what they could do to help inside the clinic with the injured.

It was going to be a long night, what with the rest of the Shambles being torn apart by rioters, but the three teams would, at the very least, make sure the medical facilities were well-guarded.

The Red Dragon Inn
Part One

The machine was waiting patiently at a table in the Inn, watching the doors impassively with hands resting on the table.

For once, Mataru Frondaya did not look immaculately turned out. Two sleepless nights at the Clinic had left him dishevelled, but no less able to function at the highest level. He stepped smartly up onto the porch and through the doors, looking around for the one whom he had arranged to meet. Red eyes lit upon HX-909-A and he nodded sharply, moving to join the artificial lifeform.

The machine stood up smoothly, returning the nod. #Director Frondaya, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Would you care for a drink before we begin?# Gesturing politely to the chair across the table.

"Thank you, but no," the drow answered with polite formality. "I'm sure you understand that I do not wish to be away from the Clinic for longer than is absolutely necessary at present." Drawing the chair out, he lowered himself into a comfortable position opposite the machine.

#I understand. Very well, to business. While I do not know all the details, I understand your clinic is under some pressure regarding the viral outbreak and the vaccine. I know one of your shipments has been hijacked, and there is fear future shipments will also be at risk. Is this accurate so far?#

Mataru nodded, holding himself stiffly. He distrusted technology at the best of times, and speaking to a machine was doing nothing for his sense of calm. "Entirely accurate," he agreed. "However, because of this pressure, as you put it, vital resources in men and equipment from Batten Industries are required to keep the peace in the Shambles when they should be more gainfully employed elsewhere."

Hex nodded slowly, its voice level and smooth, with only a trace of synthetic sound to it. #I am the commander of a local mercenary company known as the Iron Dragons. I would like to offer our services to provide security, either for the shipments, or for your Clinic.#

The drow sat a little straighter, his faint frown deepening for just a moment as he studied the impassive metallic face across from him. The offer was almost too good to be true; it was exactly what he had been considering over the course of the day. "For the Clinic, the isolation wards, and the temporary vaccination center at Rose House," he bargained firmly. "Name your price."

#The price will vary on several things. Size of the force contracted, length of the contract, and any special conditions.# Hex set its hands across one another. #How many men will you require?#

"Eight for each shift rotation at the Clinic, that's twenty-four in total there ... Twelve at Rose House, four on each shift rotation ... the wards seem to be less of a target, so I would suggest nine, three to each shift, there." There was a pause as Mataru calculated this in his head. "Forty-five men in total. I will, of course, provide accomodation for those who choose to stay on-site, as well as meals, and donate toward maintenance of weapons and armor."

The machine nodded at the figures. #Nominal price of fifty credits per soldier per week of the contract. Twenty credits per combat Servitor should you request them. Do you require any special conditions regarding weapons and equipment, or special oders or tactics to follow?#

"I would prefer that lethal force not be used, though naturally I understand that it may become necessary. Your men must understand that anyone they injure in the course of their duties will be treated by my staff for those injuries, and that they may be required to assist in rescuing those injured men or women from danger."

#These terms are acceptable. Do you know how long this contract will last?#

Mataru frowned thoughtfully. "My assumption is that the tensions which have caused the outbreaks of violence should calm by the end of the week. However, I would like this contract to last until September 2nd, just to be entirely certain that all dangers have passed." His frown had not softened as he spoke. "The Yakuza threat is very real, Mr ... Hex."

#Yakuza... Interesting.# The machine filed away that tidbit of information. #You anticipate a direct attack on your Clinic then?#

The Shambles Clinic

Feeling a little more in control of the situation now he had taken charge somewhat, Mataru Frondaya made his way through the small crowd still gathered outside the Shambles Clinic, showing his ID to one of the Batten Industries guards in order to gain access to the building itself. The smashed windows had been boarded up for the time being, and though the reception area was still a mess, the shattered glass and rubble had at least been cleared away.

What remained of the staff who had not gone down with RBF or been seconded across to Rose House or the isolation wards had set up temporary accomodation for themselves on both this ground floor, and the basement below. The drow made a note to warn them that by tomorrow night, they would probably be sharing their makeshift dormitories with HX-909-A's Iron Dragons.

Henry Davenport was still awake, scowling down at his paperwork in the - also temporary - offices that had been set up in the Friends Cafe. He looked up irritably as the Director stepped in through the doors.

"This is intolerable, Mataru," he said, without ceremony. "Thanks to that rabble out there, I'm down two Healers, four auxilliaries, two admin staff, and a nurse, and that is only on this site. I've yet to discover how many people were injured during the attacks on the wards and Rose House. If we lose any more people, we will not be able to function."

"Calm yourself, Henry, please," Mataru told his colleague, his voice calm and confident as he sat himself wearily in a chair nearby. "The danger, with any amount of luck, should have passed. However, I have taken steps this evening to ensure that we are adequately protected. By eight o'clock tomorrow morning, the necessary funds will have been transferred, and I am assured that shortly afterward the Iron Dragons will be arriving to take over the protection of the Shambles medical centers."

"And have you informed Mr Batten of this development?" the Chief Attending asked acidically, fully aware that his employer rarely remembered to actually tell other people what he was planning.

"That is my very next move, Henry," the drow nodded, his face drawn with exhaustion. "Get some sleep, you can worry over figures in the morning."

He didn't wait to hear what Davenport had to say about this, rising from his chair to make his way up the stairs and into his own office. Someone - probably Bethany - had thoughtfully made up the couch as a bed, no doubt as a pointed reminder to him that he had not slept since the hijacking of the vaccine three days ago. As though he needed reminding; he hadn't gone so long without sleep in almost seventy years. But first ...

Taking up his telephone receiver, he dialled the appropriate number, stifling a yawn as he waited for the other end to pick up. "Ah, yes, hello," he managed as a voice greeted him politely. "Mataru Frondaya, Director of the Shambles Clinic. I wonder if you could possibly put me through to Mr Edward Batten, or whichever of his people is in charge of his exceptional security forces, please?"

Rhy'Din Kakure-Kai Headquarters Compound, Dockside


Kōtetsu snorted derisively as he clicked off the television. Governor al-Amat had just finished her address to the city and he had found the entire thing infinitely laughable. Imagine, calling them 'outsiders' when the entire city was populated by outsiders. There was no community in this city, no law, no common bonds that might hold citizens together and aid them in organising against the Kakure-kai. This city was one step away from utter anarchy and anyone who thought differently was only fooling themselves.

Still, he did have to admit to a certain amount of begrudging admiration for the Governor, even if she was a woman, and gaijin at that. Her speech was almost word for word the same one that the mayor of Kyoto had used to address the city assembly before Ryu-san ordered his assassination and that of the Prefecture's Police Commissioner as well. Their replacements, men far more suited to their positions, quickly realised the wisdom in dealing with the Kakure-Kai, rather than strong-arming them and trying to cow them into submission. And one day, this Governor, too, would learn that it was far wiser to deal pragmatically and equitably with the Yakuza; the alternative was innocent civilians and police forces falling victim to bombings, kidnappings, and torture.

There was a light knocking on the door to Kōtetsu's private quarters inside the hidden compound. ?Agarikomu,? he said, glancing at the clock on his desk. It was time for the meeting of his commanders. Sure enough, when the door opened, four shateigashira stepped inside, bowed deeply to their wakagashira and arranged themselves around the large table. Kōtetsu seated himself and raised a brow. The four men exchanged nervous looks, and the most senior second lieutenant, who went by the name of Ishi, spoke up. It fell to him to tell their honourable leader that the Shambles Clinic would not be paying the ransom for the shipment of RBF vaccine.

?Honourable Kōtetsu-san,? Ishi began. ?We have heard from the director, the black-skinned erufu oni. He will not pay the ransom.?

Kōtetsu merely nodded. He knew, of course, going into this that asking for money was simply a matter of form; he had not honestly expected the ransom to be paid and would have thought much less of his adversaries if it had. It would prove them weak and unworthy. But now, he knew that the gaijin dogs had teeth to match their bark and would feel absolutely no remorse for any collateral damage his actions might cause. ?So,? he said in his slow and thoughtful manner. ?How will we bring this city to its knees? How will we earn the respect of our oyabun and show these dogs that we will be their masters??

Hex watched the data-feeds coming in across the Dragons' Tactical Network, flicking between views from helmet and armor cameras, as well as gun-sight cameras on the APC's turret. The machine had chosen the titled rank of 'Commisar', however Hex did not truly care what he was called, so long as his subordinates understood their duties and orders. So far, Laitnum was proving Hex's trust in assigning mission command to the man.

While the machine observed Laitnum's deployment of his forces, Hex was also assessing the personnel profiles for the meager medical corps. They were down to twelve total medical staff, only three of which were qualified for surgical procedures. It was true that the Caretaker-class Servitor drones could handle almost anything the organic medics could, Hex understood that wounded often preferred having a personality and a face watching over them once all their pieces had been sewn back on. Perhaps Hex might be able to make an arrangement with the Shambles Clinic's director to handle recovery patients for the mercenary company?

After finally selecting the six medics, including on of the precious surgeons, Hex opened a comm line to Laitnum's helmet.

((The following conversation written with Laitnum-mun's cooperation.))

#Lieutenant Laitnum, this is Hex. I have additional orders.#

Laitnum was just getting settled in at the Isolation Wards, where he had decided to make his main base of operations due to all the extra space. "I'm listening, Hex."

#I've selected the medical personnel who will be dispatched. Dossiers arriving over the TacNet. Further, if you are engaged by hostile forces, I would like you to attempt to capture prisoners for interrogation. So long as doing so does not jeopardize friendlies or neutrals. Understood?#

"Understood," Laitnum said, ticking off a mental note to pass the orders along to his troops. "Anything else?"

#Not at present. Good hunting Lieutenant. Hex out.#

After Laitnum cut the connection, Hex brought up an open file it had been working on for a few hours. The Rhydin Public Library had contained some cultural files on various Earths, and some of them had had historical data on the criminal organizations known as Yakuza. Originating in the nation of Japan, the Yakuza syndicates were historically dominated by strict codes of behavior and honor. Their methods were usually covert and subversive in nature, though they were ruthless in making examples of those who attempted to interfere in their operations.

If the Yakuza group which now threatened Rhydin was anything like these historical references, then it was unlikely that any prisoners Laitnum managed to take would be very cooperative. Still, if fortune were on the Dragons' side, then these Terrans had yet to encounter some of the extreme measures available to someone who was a veteran of multi-dimensional travel and warfare...

?The very fact that no sabotage has taken place is an ominous development.?

General John L. DeWitt, 1942, in regards to the absence of 'enemy action' by American citizens of Japanese descent during WWII

It had gone too smoothly.

After his men were relieved and he'd made sure they had gotten back without incident, he'd gone directly to the shipping/receiving facilities at the north end of Batten Industries to brief everyone on how the shipping operations would be taking place. According to the information he'd been given, this shipment would be large enough to supply all the clinics in Rhy'din with enough vaccine to inoculate the populace of the city, with some left over, and therefore he'd decided to take a few extra precautions, which consisted of the inclusion of three Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk helicopters.

How Ed had managed to get those, he didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to. Apparently the man had friends in very high places, to be able to get his hands on military equipment like this.

He'd taken the time to look the three heavy choppers over in fine detail - checking for holes, defects, leaks, the like. They were all three in perfect working order, absent the military and country insignia, as if they'd come fresh off the line from Sikorsky Aircraft, and each even had a GAU-17/A minigun mounted on the right side door for covering fire.

He had to admit he was impressed. When he'd asked for helicopters he'd been expecting Bell UH-1 Iroquois choppers off of some military surplus list, not three brand-new Black Hawks outfitted for air support.

He was more impressed when he went inside the shipping and receiving facility and found what was waiting for him. He didn't need to make a count to know the sixty he'd asked for were, half of them human, the other half a series of technologically-advanced robotic drones he'd never seen the like of.

When the Yakuza came for the shipment, he was sure, they'd get a big surprise.

It only took about a half hour to get everyone briefed for what to expect. If he was right, he was sure the Yakuza wouldn't bother with trying to capture this shipment - it would be simpler for them, he informed everyone, for them to simply destroy the new shipments of vaccine outright, and keep their position of power by holding the remainder of the vaccine they held as a hostage, rather than trying to acquire more. It was a basic military strategy - capture what you needed to get, then cut off the rest of the supply to the enemy to bring them to their knees.

The best way to ensure that the vaccine got where it needed to go, therefore, was to keep the shipments from being destroyed by giving them the best protection possible.

The Bloods and the robots from Zev's Syndicate came armed, as did the Sisters from the Scathachians. He knew little enough of the Syndicate robots, but they operated exactly as Zev had assured them they would - when he gave them their orders, they obeyed without question, and had loaded themselves into the armored escort vans without hesitation, even though they weren't going to be going anywhere for another few hours at least. The Bloods, he decided, were going to be split up between the choppers, and he was thrilled to find out that one of them even knew how to pilot helicopters, leaving the other two for himself and Kyle. The Scathachians were going to be the scouts - he'd seen them on patrol a few times, and with their speed and knowledge of the city would be invaluable at clearing any obstacles that might lie in their path.

After the assignments were given out, the routes planned (with the help of the Sisters), and a two-hour catnap, the operation began.

And had gone as smooth as clockwork. Two vans per route - one for delivery, one for Zev's android escort force - had gone from the shipping/receiving building to Star's End to pick up the vaccine, where they split up. Overhead, he knew, Ed was orbiting the city, keeping an eye on all three of the routes, while he, Kyle and Matthias, the Blood pilot, had split up to escort along each of the three routes.

The bulk of one route had gone to the Shambles, and it was there that he anticipated the most trouble - the rioting had ceased near the clinics but there were still hot spots in the district. None of the rioters, however, seemed to want to approach the armored vans, each bearing the Batten Industries shield logo on the side - word must have gotten around about the effectiveness of the weaponry they were using - though a large crowd had developed as they followed it to its destination. The closer they got, the more worried Leo became, thinking that if the Yakuza decided to strike, then there would be heavy civilian casualties...

But the attack had never come. The Sisters reported no enemy action along their routes as they stayed ahead of each convoy, but that served only to make him more nervous.

The rest of the deliveries were just as successful, and the whole operation took a little over three hours to complete.

With no attacks.

Later, sitting in his office, Leo pondered that development. Enough vaccine had gone out to ensure that the entire city could be inoculated, quelling the rioters for the time being in the Shambles and bringing a general sense of relief to a city that had been sitting on needles due to the shortage in supply.

He had heard once, as a lieutenant in the Marine Corps, a list that was supposed to be a joke, called Murphy's Laws of Combat. But there was a lot of truth in that list, as amusing as it was, and there was one saying on that list that he had thought of more and more, the closer and closer they got to succeeding...

...if your attack is going well, then it's an ambush.

The shipping operation had gone exactly as planned, and it turned out that no extra guard was necessary after all - everything had gotten where it needed to go.

So why, instead of feeling better, did he feel so much worse?

The Isolation Wards
Part One

"No, I work here. Yes, I do work here - you've seen me coming in and out for the past three days, you moron!" Sofia took in a deep breath and took a step back from the merc who was stubbornly refusing her entry to the wards. Just because she'd left her ID inside when she'd nipped out to check how things were going at the Clinic.

The situation with the mercenaries was getting ridiculous; if they weren't in the way, they were poking their noses into medical business. She'd even caught one of them trying to read confidential files yesterday. "You know what? Fine. Just tell me where your commander is, and I'll yell at him instead."

The mercenary in question went pale at the suggesetion, but nodded curtly and reached for his comm. "Sir, there's a woman here who says she works here. No, sir, she doesn't have an ID. She wants to speak with you, sir. Yes, sir," he turned back to Sofia. "The LT is on the way down."

"Good." Never mind that she was still wearing her scrubs, that she was one of the most visible of the nursing staff here at the wards. Oh, no, without an ID, apparently Sofia didn't exist. She stuffed her hands in the deep pockets of her tunic and began to pace backward and forward.

Laitnum arrived a few moments later, glancing over at the mercenary and then at Sofia. He took a long, hard look at her with his cold, calculating eyes, then turned and slapped the mercenary hard upside the head.

"F**kin' idiot!" he snarled. "Wastin' my time with this sh*t? She works here, she's here all the damned time!" He hit the man again, who was beginning to cower. "Go, you're relieved of your post, send someone who's not brain-dead to cover you. Can't believe you made it into the Dragons."

Sofia blinked, startled by the violence of the response from the commander. Stupidly, perhaps, she pushed herself between Laitnum and his subordinate to try and avoid another punch being administered. "Commander, that's enough," she told him firmly. "He was just doing his job, and it's your orders, I believe, to refuse entry to anyone not bearing their ID with them. This is my fault, not his." To the cowering mercenary, she added, "But if it happens again, he will let me through, won't he?"

"Of course, ma'am," the mercenary said quickly before turning away in fear of further wrath from Laitnum.

The pale commander scowled down at Sofia. "What'd you forget your damned ID for? You know security's been locked down 'round here."

She scowled back at the intimidating man, refusing to be cowed by him. "Unlike you and your men, commander, I have to remove my ID on a regular basis in order to care for my patients and avoid cross-contamination. So I forgot to put it back on before I left - what are you going to do, stand me against the wall and shoot me?"

"Don't think the thought's not tempting, but we're under strict orders to protect you, which means you should put a little more thought into following the rules set in place. Or would you rather us start letting everyone without an ID in?"

"No, I expect you to keep control of your men and make sure they pay attention to who actually works here and who doesn't," the young nurse snapped back. "They do nothing but stand around staring at us all day anyway, they should be able to remember faces by now. And do not get me started on their flagrant disregard for patient confidentiality!"

"Now what are you goin' on about?" he arched a brow at her.

She threw up her hands. "You should know these things," she told him with an exasperated sigh. "Your men regularly wander in and out of the wards, despite the isolation part of the title, Isolation Wards. My staff are intimidated, and I'm reaching the end of my patience with so-called "accidental" looks at the patients' files. They shouldn't be anywhere near those files."

"This is the kinda thing you bring to me when it first happens. I'll deal with all the damned idiots, make 'em stay out of your way. But you need to stay out of ours, and remember your ID."

"I wasn't aware of it until yesterday, when I personally caught one of your sergeants browsing the discharged patients' files," she informed him coldly. "I mentioned it in the staffroom, and suddenly there were a lot of stories coming out about the same sort of things. Your men are intimidating my staff into not mentioning problems, Commander Laitnum, and that is your problem, not mine."

He rolled his eyes at her. "You want me to go around an' start punishin' them? You just got done tryin' to stop me from doin' that very thing! I don't care if they're intimidatin' your staff, maybe it'll do 'em some good an' they'll learn t' stand up. We're here to keep this place secure, to keep the rioters out, t'make sure none of you get killed. I wasn't told t' make you all comfortable."

Part Three

His hand shot up, his clawed fingertips curled under her chin, and he lifted. Normally, he would not be so strong, but the armor the Dragons supplied augmented their physical capabilities exponentially, and so he was able to lift her off the ground with that light grip. "You do not give the orders," he hissed darkly. "I do. And when I tell you to do something, you will do it."

Any sound she might have made in response was cut off as her feet left the floor, constricting her throat with harsh violence. The receiver fell onto the desk as her hands clenched around his wrist, one foot snapping out with startling precision, aimed for the one place on his legs where she might possibly be able to cause a certain amount of pain. And in steel toe-caps, that was definitely pain worth causing. "Get off me, you arrogant sh*t-head."

He snarled and dropped her unceremoniously, leaning forward to glare dangerously at her. "When this is all over, remember, I won't be under contract to protect you."

"When this is all over, you never have to even look at me again," she informed him, staggering as she landed hard, jarring her legs. "So just back off and work with me, rather than trying to give orders in a setting you are clearly totally unfamiliar with."

His fingers clenched in what was obviously the suppressed urge to throttle her. "What then, do you suggest?" he asked icily.

"I suggest that you and your men do what you are contracted to do, and there will be no more incidents. Clear?"

"We're contracted to keep this place safe. It's safe."

"Keeping this place safe does not give any of you the right to wander onto quarantined wards, or to read confidential information," she pointed out with a frown.

"I don't do that. And I already told you I'd keep them out of your files. I can't keep them out of the wards, we're to keep every inch of this building on lock down. Get over it."

Her eyes narrowed. Then, very deliberately, she presented him with a view of her ring finger in an upward position, the knuckle toward him, and said venomously, "Swivel on it."

He grinned down at her menacingly. "When does your shift end?"

She rolled her eyes, brows furrowed as her gaze flickered toward the clock. "Quarter to nine. Why?"

"Because, Hex wants us to send people with the staff whenever they leave, an escort, if you will."

"And when was this decided?" she demanded in exasperation. "Just now? Will you be telling your boss to make it a rule, just so you can irritate the hell out of me after-hours as well?"

"I think I'll handle you personally," Laitnum was saying, ignoring her objections. "You're a little mouthy, that could piss some people off. Wouldn't want you getting into trouble."

"If you think you're handling any of me, you've got another thing coming, mate," she hissed. "Get out of my way, I have work to do."

He smirked and stepped aside, gesturing for her to pass him. "Please, go. I'd hate to hold you up."

Muttering furiously to herself, Sofia stalked past him, snatching up a mask, apron and gloves from the station by the door and pulling them on before stepping through and out of sight. The spirit of cooperation and good will seemed to have taken a bit of a hit today.

((Exponential thank yous to Laitnum's player for this scene!))