Neon Pursuit

The pub Mirage and Dozer had settled into bore all the hallmarks of a place built for the local workforce to unwind after long shifts hauling cargo at the nearby spaceport. The rust-stained alloy walls reflected what they could of the lights mounted along the ceiling and the floor maintained a certain stickiness that seemed almost a requisite.

Mirage had taken up a seat with his back to the main door, trusting Dozer to watch his six while he monitored the exit at the rear. Between them and the mirror behind the bar, every angle was accounted for.

He was nursing his fourth ale of the night, a local brew that wasn't awful though most of the first three had ended up in the artificial plant next to them, down the sink or soaking the floor. Appearances mattered but a drunk operator was a liability.

Dozer leaned back in his seat a little, the frame audibly straining and causing a few patrons to glance over again at the Polynesian mountain who'd chosen their watering hole for the evening. He drained his own bottle, not needing to use as many tricks as his smaller partner, and grabbed the second one that was lined up and ready.

"Mate," Dozer rumbled, gesturing at Mirage with his bottle, "how you ever thought those soft Wessex lads were going to break the Whenuan line I'll never know."

Mirage put his own bottle down on the bench next to him and counted on fingers as he said, "First of all, the current crop of players aren't a complete shower of wankers like in previous years. Second, British arrogance and blind hope are a classic combo and Third..."

A soft ping sounded in Mirage's ear. The drone they had left circling the nearby gate to the spaceport had tagged their target for tonight.

Continuing on, emphasising the third finger, Mirage said, "Third and last of all the opening two tries managed to shut your gob for a bit."

Dozer's grin was all teeth. "I was in shock. You know how rare it is for that to happen once, let alone twice. It didn't matter all that much in the end anyway"

Mirage shrugged and downed the bit of his beer that hadn't found its way onto the floor in between being picked up and reaching his mouth.

"I'll take a quarter-final loss over not getting to the knockout stage at least. We'll have to see how your lads stack up to Port Vic. Bunch of barbarians they are."

A second ping vibrated in Mirage's ear to announce that the target was out of the gate and on the move towards them. Mirage checked his watch, not really paying attention to what was on the face. He threw a thumb at the exit and raised an eyebrow at Dozer, getting a nod in reply.

"Just 'cause they're the current trophy holder don't mean much." Dozer said as he stood, scooping up the empties as he moved. "We'll stomp them too."

Mirage had a last check around before leaving, catching himself in the mirror. Two months ago he and Dozer had been lent out to SIS and the civilian loadout most of their ops since then had called for left him feeling uncomfortably under armed. The three knives he did have hidden on his person helped take the edge off but half a decade of door kicking left him missing the weight at his hip.

The pair made their way out onto the street where the local ever present rain was down to a light drizzle. The target was just about visible further down the road walking toward them. They had their collar up and head down trying to avoid getting too wet, clearly only caring about getting to the transport hub beyond the pub and heading to wherever they laid their head.

Dozer trailed just behind Mirage as he led the way along the pavement at a deliberate pace designed to have them meet at the mouth of a pre-scouted alley.

As they approached the grab point Mirage turned slightly and said "What your lot really need to do is get in on the Cricket game. Doesn't do a planet any good being one-sport wonders in the Commonwealth."

Dozer laughed and said, "That's rich coming from an Earther."

Mirage spun with exaggerated frustration, throwing his arms out wide and 'accidentally' driving his forearm into the target. The hit stunned them long enough for Dozer's arms so snap out like vipers, grabbing and directing them into the alley past Mirage who followed in.

"Easy, mate," Mirage said, voice low but not unkind. "Let's not make a scene here. We just want a chat somewhere a bit more private."

Doing another quick scan for any cameras or witnesses and finding nothing Mirage led the way further down the alley. A few quick turns down the back lanes brought them to their exfil location. Parked there was a civilian sedan that looked like any of the dozens that populated the roadways here. Nothing special, unless you counted the hidden armour plating and reinforced windows.

A tap of the key in Mirage's pocket opened the rear of the vehicle before they got there allowing him to retrieve the restraints stored inside. The blackout hood was on, zip cuffs tight and the captive was bundled into the back before he realised he wasn't getting a comfortable ride from here.

As soon as they were both inside the vehicle Mirage hit the ignition and they rolled out of the alley, joining the traffic there. They didn't utter a word until they were on the ring road that surrounded the central part of the city and were just another traveller as far as anybody watching was concerned.

This part of the job completed, Mirage glanced at the mirrors and then Dozer. "You good?"

He nodded and held a thumb up while maintaining his gaze on the surrounding traffic. "Just hoping the idiot in the back is worth this effort."

"We've got time before the Lady arrives to get some information out of him." Mirage said, "For his sake, he better talk because the poor bastard really doesn't want her involved."

Dozer grunted, "Neither would I."

---

It was only a few exits beyond where they joined the city's main circuit that they turned off into one of the outer industrial zones. Security here was lighter and the surveillance grid easier to avoid. They passed rows of units in various states of activity before arriving at the safe house that had been arranged for them.

Lady Bellinger, their sponsor for this job, had found an auto-shop whose owner was coincidentally looking for an opportunity to go on holiday at the same time she was offering a stack of credits, no questions asked. The fact it came with a soundproofed, underground storage room? Lovely bonus.

Mirage eased the vehicle to a stop in front of a worn roller shutter that had seen better days. He flicked the headlights in a pre-arranged pattern. A sensor mounted just underneath the flickering neon sign above the entrance caught the signal and with only a little hesitance the door lifted out of the way.

The vehicle crawled into the workshop, overhead lights coming on as it did so and stopped over the only usable service bay. Exposed beams crisscrossed above and the concrete floor bore decades of oil stains.

Mirage shut the engine off as the door clattered back into place. The dull echo of the door hadn't yet faded when both men were out of the vehicle and moving, Dozer circled to the rear of the vehicle to retrieve their captive.

Mirage moved to a side door and opened it, revealing a dimly lit narrow stairwell leading down. At the bottom a cramped landing split two doors. One led back under the shop floor, useful for any work that needed doing on the underneath of a vehicle but it was the second they were here for.

Through the reinforced door lay a windowless storage room used to secure the high-value auto parts, most of which were now stacked to the side to leave a space in the centre. Two chairs sat there, one of them bolted to the ground.

Dozer dropped the captive into the chair with minimal ceremony, holding him in place while Mirage swapped the zip cuffs for a sturdier set that fixed him to the frame. Through all of this, their captive didn't resist or utter any sound loud enough to make it out of the hood.

Once the bonds were secure, Dozer backed off and took up position by the door, leaving Mirage to handle the rest.

He removed the hood and settled into the opposite chair.

The captive blinked at the dim light, looking franticly around the room before locking eyes with Mirage who gave him nothing to work with. The look of panic that they wore slowly worked through realisation and turned to anger, their jaw clenching as their whole body tensed up.

Fixing Mirage with the meanest look he could manage, he growled, "What the hell is this? Who are you people?"

Mirage let the silence stretch, heavy in the air.

The captive's breathing was ragged, their anger still barely concealing their true feelings of abject fear.

Eventually, the man gave a sharp breath through his nose and snapped, "Well? You gonna ask me something or just stare?"

Mirage slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim, black datapad. He slid the stylus free and tapped the screen, each soft click punctuating the silence.

"Cas Delvin." Mirage said while reading from the datapad, his tone patient and steady. "Hired by we don't know who yet and facilitating the delivery of three packages to a person or persons unknown."

The man managed a shaky laugh. "Yeah, that's me. I don't know what packages you mean though. I'm just a customs guy. All I do is sign paperwork."

Mirage spun the datapad around, showing a surveillance video of Cas checking markings on some shipping containers. "And sometimes you inspect shipments. Three of which were containers delivered to Highport station on Port Sundown. The odd thing is, not long after you checked them there was a security camera glitch after which they disappeared."

Cas's smile faltered, just a flicker. "You've got the wrong person. I don't have the kind of access to manage that."

The slight sound of Dozer's boot scraping on the floor as he adjusted position echoed around the room. Cas flinched at the noise, Mirage's gaze never left him.

"Three containers," Mirage repeated, voice calm, "One packed with infantry-support drones. Another with their ammunition. The third-" he leaned in a little, "ISR drones the likes of which no civilian should have access to."

The already faltering bravado cracked a little more. "I already told you, I don't do any of that. I just check that numbers match and sign paperwork."

Sliding the stylus back into the datapad Mirage placed it back inside his pocket, never taking his eye off of the man opposite.

"The problem, Cas, is me and my friend here are having a real problem believing that. We know what you earn, what you spend and how much you lose making bad bets with the bookies. None of it adds up, Cas."

Cas's hands twisted uselessly against the cuffs, the sound of defeat bleeding into his voice. "Please. I don't know anything. I'm just a paperwork guy, I swear."

Mirage left him to wallow for a beat before continuing. "The thing is, we're not overly concerned with you. We just want the containers. We know they are no longer in the bay they were offloaded into but beyond that we have no idea. Help us so we can help you."

Unmoving, Cas just repeated, "Please, I don't know anything about those containers."

Before Mirage could continue, a simultaneous chirp went through Mirage and Dozer's commbeads.

Dozer moved to the door and started heading up. "Back in a mo', the Lady's here."

Mirage stayed in his seat, relaxed but alert as he kept an eye on Cas.

Up above a heavy door clattered open, there was a shuffle of footsteps and it was closed again, this time with care. After some muffled conversation the sound of boots echoed down the stairs. Dozer appeared first, stepping aside and back to his previous position.

Lady Isabella Bellinger swept into the room, impeccably dressed in perfectly tailored business attire as if she's stepped out of a meeting briefly to attend so a minor inconvenience. Her face lit up in a radiant smile that would have been more at home in a boardroom than a black site interrogation.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" Lady Bellinger chirped, clasping her hands together like a hostess greeting her guests. Her voice was light and cheerful, almost musical. "I do hope we can wrap this up quickly. The weather's ghastly and my complimentary spa package beckons."

Cas stared, confused, as she walked closer. Mirage stood and offered her his seat which she took willingly, offering thanks while doing so.

Turning to Cas once again she said warmly, "You must be Mr Delvin. I've been informed you are being quite uncooperative. Well, that just won't do."

He tried to speak but no words made it past his throat.

She continued, "Now, you may not have been told who we are. These boys do take operational security rather seriously after all. I am technically independent but for today at least I'm helping a friend in the Commonwealth's SIS. Perhaps you know who they are?"

The blood drained from Cas's face.

She clapped her hands once, brightly. "Wonderful. That'll make this much simpler."

Her voice stayed perfectly pleasant, but steel settled in her eyes.

"If you work with us here you can walk out of here with nothing but a few unpleasant memories. If you don't-" She leaned down, her tone dropping to a sing-song whisper. "There are places nearby no cameras. No witnesses. Not even a flicker of light. I'm sure we could put something there and it wouldn't be discovered for months at the least."

She straightened, smile intact.

Cas swallowed hard, the first crack of terror showing in his posture.

"Now then Mr Delvin," she said, the pleasant and cheery tone returned. "We are looking for some Commonwealth property. You remember the containers don't you? The ones you definitely inspected in person, signed in as received and then so thoughtfully arranged to disappear?"

He tightened his jaw. Refusing to speak.

She rested a hand onto his leg in a comforting manner, causing him to flinch at the contact. "Oh darling, there's no need to be shy. Just tell us where they went and who you gave them to so we don't have to dispose of you in a very unpleasant manner."

Closing his eyes, he only slowly shook his head.

Standing back up again, she sighed dramatically, like a disappointed teacher. "I do so hate it when they choose the hard way."

Addressing Mirage and Dozer she said, "If you boys would be so kind as to escort our quarry upstairs I have a van waiting. I think we need to go for a ride."

---

As the sound of the Lady's shoes receded up the stairs Dozer and Mirage moved with practiced ease. They cut Cas's restraints. hauled him up and rebound his hands in front of him. He didn't resist, the defiance hollowed out of him by the prospect of what was to come. Mirage slipped the hood back over his head, casting his world in darkness once more.

"Let's not keep the Lady waiting," Mirage said quietly, gripping Cas by the elbow.

They guided him up the narrow staircase and through the dimly lit floor. Past their own vehicle the side door was open to the night and the still steady rain softly pattering on the ground.

Waiting outside was a matte-black van, slick with moisture. Lady Bellinger was standing beside it, finishing giving instructions to her security team.

The first was tall and broad, his pale skin catching the exterior lights. His blond hair was tied back in a precise knot and his slightly opened jacket betrayed the armour plating underneath. He offered the approaching men a silent nod.

Next to him stood a woman coiled like a spring. Her angular features were framed by tight braids tucked beneath a black beanie. Both wore the golden diamond of Gryphon Elise Security.

She reached out a hand and Mirage shook it firmly. "The Lady filled us in. Good to be working with professionals."

Lady Bellinger stepped up, now wearing a long coat against the cold. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Monsoon. The quiet giant is Glas. He'll be driving."

Mirage opened the side door to reveal a sparse but clean interior. Climbing in first, he took Cas from Dozer and put him in the middle of the far bench. Mirage and Dozer flanked him while Monsoon and Lady Bellinger settled in opposite.

Monsoon rapped on the divide and within moments the van pulled into the rain-soaked night.

The van rolled through the slick, dark streets. The wipers were thudding in a steady rhythm, punctuated by the occasional sharp clicks of indicators as Glas guided them towards the ring road.

Dozer was the first to break the silence.

"So, uh... Lady B," he said, flashing his best grin.

Monsoon turned her head, just slightly, arching an eyebrow at the man.

Mirage chuckled under his breath, "Careful being too casual mate, she might revoke your speaking privileges."

Lady Bellinger didn't seem offended. In fact, the hint of a smile crept onto her face.

"Go on," she said.

"So, me and Mirage were wondering, given we've done so much for you recently, any chance you could swing us tickets for a Rugby game next time we're on Wessex?"

Mirage sighed but didn't stop him.

Lady Bellinger shared a look of amusement with Monsoon and then turned back. "We're taking this poor soul to his possible death and you're asking me for match tickets."

Shrugging, Dozer said, "We like to plan ahead ma'am."

"Tactical foresight," Mirage added, completely deadpan.

Monsoon snorted a barely contained laugh.

Lady Bellinger nodded slowly. "As it happens I have a permanent invite to any Centurions game I feel like attending. I'm sure I could being you both along with me as long as you don't mind rubbing elbows with the aristocrats and executives that will be occupying the same space."

Dozer's face lit up with joy. "I promise we'll be on our best behaviour."

The van picked up in speed, banking slightly as Glas merged onto the Ring Road. A sharp rap on the divider marked the shift.

"Sorry to cut in," Monsoon said, "it's game time."

She leaned over and raeched for the hood. The moment her fingers brushed the fabric, Cas flinched. She pulled it off in one swift motion.

Cas blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the dim lights overhead. His face was pale under dishevelled hair, fear clinging to him like sweat. His breathing was fast and uneven through his nose but he remained silent.

Lady Bellinger regarded him like a hawk staring down a mouse. Her tone was calm but edged like a scalpel.

"I have come to a decision regarding your future. We are going to drop you back at work, cleaned up and ready to moan about being called back in at this ungodly hour."

Looking from person to person, Cas wore a confused expression layered over the fear still clinging to him.

She continued, voice quiet but deliberate. "Unfortunately, your comm records now show a few... troubling calls to us. We may have also forgotten to disable its tracking. How careless of us."

She let the silence hang long enough for the last of the blood to drain from Cas's face.

"My family will be targeted," he said, barely audible. "You can't."

Reaching across the van, Lady Bellinger took his bound hands in hers. "I assure you Mr Delvin, I can. I have done it before. I sleep soundly."

He closed his eyes and sagged in his seat, all of the fight finally drained out of him. "If I tell you where they are, at least give me a chance to get ahead of things."

Leaning back, her voice losing its edge and becoming more jovial she said, "I will do you one better Mr Delvin. Tell us where those container are and I will ensure your family's safety and give you a job. I do hate to see talent wasted."

After only a moment of consideration, Cas nodded. "I'll take that offer."

Lady Bellinger clapped her hands softly. "Monsoon, Tell Glas we're heading to the staging house. Also, radio Mara and tell her the location's coming."

---

The van was guided down a ramp slick with rainwater into an underground garage beneath a building that still bore the bones of an old warehouse, exposed steel girders and weathered brick, but the glass windows were reinforced and the signage clean, crisp and clear.

Overhead fluorescent strips flickered on at the motion, the light casting a pallid glow over rows of concrete pillars and mostly empty parking spaces. Glas eased the van into a spot next to an unmarked SUV, not far from a cargo lift at the far end.

As soon as the engine was turned off, Dozer reached down and pulled a knife from his boot. The motion elicited a sharp intake of breath from Cas.

"No worries mate," Dozer said, casual as ever. "It's for the bindings."

With his hands now free, Cas massaged his wrists and and looked up at Lady Bellinger. "What now?"

She offered a warm smile, pulling a sleek comm device from her pocket and holding it out for him. "Now Mr Delvin, these fine people will head up to prepare while you contact your family. Have them make their way here and be sure to let them know this is a one way trip."

Relief crashed over Cas in an impossible to miss wave. There would be no returning to his old life but he now had a future. He took the device in both hands, nodding quickly as he began dialling.

Taking their cue, the team began to move. Mirage and Dozer exited via the back and made their way to the lift while Monsoon headed for the SUV. Glas joined her as the rear opened and they each grabbed an unmarked duffel bag and long, sleek weapons case.

With gear in hand they joined the other pair just as the cargo lift doors shuddered open. They stepped in together, quiet and focused. The rattle of the lift was the only soundtrack to their ascent until the soft bong came through a speaker to mark their stop.

Mirage lifted the door and stepped into the clean, unmarked corridor beyond. The hallway, lit with soft LEDS and lined with identical doors gave little away. Moving with a brisk pace he passed several doors and took the turn at the end, stopping at the second door along. A discreet biometric panel cast a dim glow on the floor next to it. Glancing back to ensure the others were close behind, he pressed his thumb to the pad. A soft click confirmed the unlock and he pushed it open.

Inside was a spacious apartment with the well-maintained and impersonal feel of a corporate rental. The open-plan layout blended the kitchen in one corner with the sitting area centred around an expandable table. A muted grey couch helped cordon off the entertainment space in which a large wall screen switched on and defaulted to the local news feed, volume muted.

A line of burner comms were charging on the kitchen side, the only hint that the space was anything more than it appeared.

Monsoon and Glas took over the table, extending it and making use of the space to begin prepping their gear, falling into a smooth practiced rhythm.

Meanwhile, Mirage and Dozer moved to the entertainment space, working in quiet tandem. Mirage retrieved a slim black case from a cabinet and unfolded a compact terminal, linking it to wall ports next to the screen. Live feeds from the building interior and drone-eye views of the spaceport appeared on the screen. Beside him Dozer assembled a secure uplink, connecting signal repeaters and modules with surprising delicacy before passing the final cable to Mirage.

With a nod, Mirage slotted it in and a diagnostic scroll appeared in the corner, working its way to all green in a matter of seconds. The feed for the cargo lift showed Lady Bellinger and Cas entering it down on the parking level.

Mirage leaned back slightly, stretching his arms with a satisfied sigh. "Well, everything's hooked up and happy. Anyone fancy a brew? Lady Bellinger's going to want one and by the look of him our new friend is going to need one."

Dozer raised a beer he had plucked from the fridge. "Pre-emptively handled," he said with a grin as he made his way to the bedroom he was using to prep gear.

"Coffee," muttered Glas, not lifting his eyes from his task. Monsoon just shook her head silently.

Mirage chuckled under his breath and turned toward the kitchen. "Tea, coffee and nothing. Not the worst order I've fulfilled."

The kettle clicked to announce its completion moments before the door lock disengaged with a soft thunk.

Cas stepped in first. He looked steadier now, the strain of the evening's activities beginning to lift.

Following him, Lady Bellinger entered swept the room in a quick, approving glance. "Mr Delvin's family should be with us within the hour."

Mirage was already setting up cups on the counter. "Tea'll be sorted in a moment. You good for one Cas?"

Cas offered a thin smile that almost reached his eyes. "Please."

Placing her hand on his shoulder, Lady Bellinger said, "Most wonderful. We'll get those container locations from you shortly and then I'm sure Mirage wouldn't mind if you borrowed his facilities to clean up. Right now you look like you serve as a cautionary tale and I suspect your family would prefer a less alarming reunion."

She guided him to the couch and gently urged him to sit, taking up her own position next to him. From her bag she retrieved a small pack of biscuits and began distributing them into tidy piles on the table, one for each of them.

Mirage arrived moments later, detouring briefly to hand Glas his coffee before placing steaming mugs beside each biscuit stack. He claimed his own with a small nod, taking them to the workstation, sipping as he mentally prepared for the mission brief ahead.

---

Mirage swung the van around and backed it in through the curtain of rain falling from the service bridge. Across the road, the floodlights of the spaceport were reduced to soft glows.

With the parking brake engaged, engine silenced and the lights switched off he keyed his comm.

"Queen, Knight-One. We're at checkpoint Tempo. Neighbourhood looks empty for now."

Lady Bellinger came back immediately, calm and clipped. "Copy Knight-One. Rook and Bishop are still moving so hold tight. Queen out."

Mirage nodded, more to himself than anyone else.

Dozer stretched in the passenger seat. "Remind me why you're Knight-One again?"

Without looking at him Mirage said, "The lady clearly thinks I'm the better looking one."

"Right," Dozer snorted. "Then how did Monsoon end up demoted to Bishop-Two?"

Mirage finally turned, voice bone-dry. "Glas has those piercing Nordic eyes my friend. The kind you could easily get lost in for days."

With a chuckle, Dozer clambered into the back, giving Mirage a solid pat on the shoulder on his way through. "Fine. You stay up front and look pretty, I've got nerd work to do."

Grabbing his helmet from a hook on the wall, he started syncing with the drones they had left on the nearby rooftops earlier that night.

Alone in the front, Mirage retrieved a small flask from the door panel and cracked it open. The escaping steam briefly fogged the windscreen before the van's environmental systems kicked in automatically, compensating for the humidity spike.

Sitting at 'ready to engage' had never agreed with him but an old sergeant had once imparted to him what felt like sacred knowledge at the time: a cup of tea could be the ultimate boredom killer. He took a careful sip, the heating element had done its job to perfection.

The occasional pitter patter of Dozer's fingers on his wrist keypad was the only other sound in the van. "Patrol patterns are consistent like last time," Dozer reported from the back a handful of minutes later. "That blind spot should hold for as long as we need it."

Mirage grunted an affirmative and pulled a tablet from the centre console. With his tea in one hand and the tablet propped on the wheel he brought up the plans for the spaceport they had been given by Cas. The container they were to secure had been moved from orbit into a lone medium sized hanger sat between ranks of smaller, private shuttle sized ones and a container storage pen. Unfortunately for them, the location was where his knowledge ran out and they had to rely on whatever they could gather on their own.

As luck would have it their job scouting the spaceport for the grab on Cas had flagged a spot close by they could use.

Time continued to crawl as each sip of tea got cooler than the last. After double, treble and quadruple checking the plans and their route in he took to watching the drones. The clock slid past thirty minutes from Tempo and he stowed the tablet, a single bounce of his knee afterwards a sign of his impatience beginning to win the battle against his discipline.

Dozer had clearly picked up on this. "Nearly there mate, it wouldn't shock me if we're kicking doors in the next fifteen."

Mirage didn't answer. He downed the last of the tea, now barely lukewarm, and sealed the flask and stowed it in the door panel.

Dozer sat up, closing the wrist pad. "Lady B tell you who the third team are?"

Unmoving, Mirage said, "No. Didn't ask."

"Probably more Gryphon. This'll be a nice pay day for them."

Mirage half-turned. "You know envy is a sin right?"

"It's caution," Dozer shot back, beginning a check of his gear. "Loyalty with a price tag means it's on lease."

Mirage turned back and gave his own webbing a quick once over. "Nothing in the last two months makes me think she would work with someone who isn't all in."

Their comms chirped before Dozer could say anything more. Lady Bellinger came through crisp and steady.

"Queen to Team Knight, the other teams report they are at Tempo. Bishop have informed me that Anhur Lions are in attendance and Rook have a Jackal team as dance partners so be on the lookout."

Mirage exhaled, slow. "Roger that Queen, we're oscar mike. We'll radio in at checkpoint Gambit."

Dozer's fingers danced on his controls. "Sending one of the ravens on a suicide-run," he muttered. The drone streaked towards the hanger fast and low, the anti-sensor tech bleeding battery life, before it tumbled into the black water beyond.

"Clear path until the last run to the hanger," Dozer said. "Thermal shows a lone sentry on each side and another doing laps."

A sense of calm enveloped Mirage as he slipped his helmet on and slung his rifle, barely waiting for Dozer to finish speaking before stepping out of the van. The muted thud of his boots punctuated his change in mood.

Two beats behind him, Dozer secured the van and they both slipped out of the shadows and crossed the distance to the spaceport at a run.

---

The scent of ozone was strong enough to pass through the filters in their helmets.

Rain danced on the fence, hissing like static. Dozer shook a can of nitrogen, tracing a clean outline of an entrance. Fog drifted outwards, swirling into the night. He holstered the can, paused for a second to let the spray work its magic and leaned into it shoulder first.

The fence groaned, then broke with a clean snap. Dozer slipped through first, holding the flap he had created open for Mirage.

Thirty meters of open concrete stretched before them, dividing the space from the foot of the floodlight they stood at from the container pen. It's regular use was a perimeter road for automated transports but for now, it was the first of several obstacles between them and their target.

Mirage's finger found the pre-programmed sequence on his wrist pad, lighting up his HUD with overlays of the camera sight lines rendered as amber cones sweeping through the zone.

One of Dozer's recon trips to the pub had revealed they followed a predictable pattern: nigh on a minute and a half of exposure cut by a twelve second moving corridor they could slip through. A doddle for anyone even only trained half as well as them.

He held just long enough to confirm the cycle hadn't changed. The window opened, held and closed exactly as expected.

The window opened once more. Mirage moved, the concrete dissolving beneath deliberate strides whilst Dozer was barely a half step behind.

On the other side they split and slowed as they entered, careful not to careen off of any metal and make noise. The moment they entered the container maze their helmets shifted into dual spectrum mode, transforming the near pitch black into azure-soaked clarity. The only exceptions were each other, standing out in muted amber as the armour fought to keep their thermal signatures down.

A moment to breathe, then Mirage navigated through the steel canyons. Three meter tall shipping units loomed in the rain, their corporate branding barely visible through the rain even with the image enhancement.

As they moved, they avoided the standing water that could give away their position and moved around the various pieces of equipment left by the day shift.

"Company, two o'clock," Dozer whispered.

Mirage had already spotted it. Torchlight was bouncing along the pathway in front, one of the regular security patrols making their rounds. The beams arcs were the predictable movements of corporate security, all procedure and no paranoia.

Holding their position behind a parked autoloader back from the junction, they let the guard go past.

Once the footsteps had faded, they moved once again, covering the last handful of ranks to the Eastern edge of the pen without incident.

Around the corner of the final piece of cover, Mirage fed a fibre optic scope from his wrist pad, the flexible lens transmitting to a frame that appeared on his HUD. Across another fifty meters of open tarmac the target hangar lay, its bulk silhouetted against the storm-dark sky.

Their exit from the pen was opposite one of the rear corners, giving them eyes on two of the stationary sentries. Both had moved themselves as far under their doorway shelters as duty allowed, choosing comfort over vigilance.

He dialled the magnification up, resolving the guards' shoulder patches through rain and distance.

"Well, well," Mirage murmured, catching the distinctive lion's head patches. "Bishop called it. Anhur Lions are earning their keep tonight."

He let the fibre slide back in with a whisper and pressed his back into the rain slick container.

"Roving patrol arrives in sixty seconds," Dozer said. "Once they're past I'll spend another drone to buy us a window."

Mirage nodded. "Sounds solid. I'll do the bloke at the door and call Gambit. Hopefully it'll be a go right away."

Dozer settled back and opened his wrist pad, using his bulk to protect it from the rain. With a few key strokes he set up a path for the next drone, targeting the next hangar over.

At the time predicted, another Lion rounded the far corner of the rear of the hangar at an unhurried pace, an SMG dangling from a sling connected to their rig. As they closed in on the door sentry, a mutual nod was exchanged and they continued round, making their way up the long side.

Dozer keyed the command just a moment before they disappeared around to the front of the hangar. Through the pounding rain Mirage just about caught sight of the drone moving fast and low before it careened off of the far hangar, the booming report carrying through the weather.

The door sentry had started to turn when Mirage burst from cover and sprinted to cover the gap. Each footfall's sound muffled by the rain, they had no time to react when he hit them at full tilt, grappling them to the ground. The sentry tried to fight the sleeper hold but Dozer was a heartbeat behind and helped apply pressure.

They zip cuffed the sentry and pulled them aside, only taking a moment to get the frequencies of the radio attached to their helmet.

Mirage took his place at the door, feeding the fibre cam through a gap in the frame while Dozer hooked into Anhur's comms.

The hangar's cavernous interior held exactly what Cas had promised: a shipping container, unremarkable except for its isolation in the vast space. The two figures leaning against it cut a similar silhouette to themselves. The resolution on the camera in the low light wasn't the best but it could pick out the jackal mask badge mounted on their helmets.

"Got an issue here Dozer," he said as he pulled the fibre-cam back. "Rook aren't the only ones with Jackals, we've got a pair inside waiting for us."

Dozer nodded. "The Lions have been wondering if they need to call them about the crashed drone. So far they thing it's just a broken maintenance bot."

Mirage brought up his connection to Lady Bellinger. "Knight-One to Queen, we're at Gambit with a very short clock. We confirm Anhur Jackals on location, advise on RoE?"

He could hear the bitten back anger from the Lady. "Roger Knight-One. Unfortunately, standard rules apply and you cannot fire unless fired upon. The other teams are also at Gambit so please make entry ASAP."

Muttering some expletives under his breath he replied, "Got it Queen, make sure they shoot first. Knight-One out."

---

Using a knife from his belt, Mirage popped the keypad panel open, exposing its innards to the elements. With steadier hands than they had any right to be he carefully connected in a door hacker pulled from his belt and hit the go button.

The status bar seemed to crawl at a snail's pace as it broke the lock but five seconds later it glowed green and a soft whisper from the door marked success.

Mirage twisted the handle and swept inside, Dozer shadowing him. Their helmets adjusted to the bright interior in a split second, scanners confirming the two occupants were alone.

"Commonwealth Forces!" Dozer's words cut through the space with incredible authority. "I want to see weapons down and helmets off! Now!"

The Jackals dropped their own carbines, already half-raised, and let them hang with hands clear. Their bearing hadn't changed, still ready to throw down at a moment's notice. Everything about them screamed former operator to Mirage.

The closer one took a step forward. "This is legitimate business under contract. I assume you have a warrant?"

Dozer re-centred his weapon on the talker. "Remove. Your. Helmet. I will not repeat myself."

The Jackal's hands moved slowly towards his helmet release when the door behind them flew inward. Two Lions burst through the door, SMGs already tracking towards the Commonwealth operators.

"This cargo is under Anhur protection," The lead lion's voice cracked with adrenaline. "Drop your weapons or be fired upon."

Two heartbeats, and the standoff collapsed.

The rear Jackal took advantage of the confusion, his sidearm clearing the holster in a practised draw. Mirage saw the muzzle flash but he was already moving, the round glancing from his shoulder plate.

The hangar erupted.

Dozer put a burst centre mass into the talking Jackal and dove for a nearby maintenance trolley. Mirage shifted in the other direction, his carbine chattering as he laid down supressing fire. Brass sang against concrete as he landed behind his own piece of cover, a large tool chest.

The lead Lion hauled the injured Jackal out of the firing lane while the combined fire of the remaining pair kept Mirage and Dozer honest.

A crimson path painted their route back.

The firefight took on a deadly rhythm, each of them chancing a few rounds before the other side beat them back.

Dozer cut across their comm. "Prepping a banger! Follow it a smoke these dickheads"

Mirage clicked his comm in response but before either could move, a taped together bundle of bangers came flying over the container in their direction. The two operators buried their heads down, trusting in the helmet hardware to dampen the effect.

It burst in the air with violent force.

The concussion wave sent him skidding. He pulled his pistol and held it in a tight grip, riding it out.

His .45 ACP whispered through the helmet's dampened soundscape. It was the last thing one of the Lion's heard as he rounded the container and met the rounds coming the other way.

The other Lion was pushed into the Jackal by a mag dump from Dozer as they pushed from the opposite side of the container.

Collecting himself from the floor, Mirage stood just as another complication entered the fray in the form of 00 buck taking a chunk out of the tool chest where he had just been.

The shotgun pump was halfway complete as he leapt over the chest, burying himself into the pockmarked front side.

"Contact, Rear!" he managed to get out before the second round ripped more metal off the top, shrapnel whizzing millimetres from his helmet.

He saw Dozer whip a banger around the container, already on his feet and moving to follow. The big guy was going to be too hard to miss for the new party guest.

His hand brushed something metal on the floor. Spanner. He'd have one shot.

Mirage scooped the tool from the floor as he stood, cocking his arm back. Not fully stable on his feet, he threw it anyway. The improvised projectile rotated end over end and flew true, catching the end of the shotgun just as the Lion behind it pulled the trigger.

It was enough.

Some of the buck sparked from the spanner as it was thrown away and the rest missed anything important. The shooter, expecting different recoil, stumbled and lost grip on the shotgun, nearly dropping it.

Mirage was never one to let a gap like this pass by. He lifted his carbine from where it hung and dropped the unexpected visitor.

With the problem now solved, he activated his comm. "Dozer, you good?"

In between grunting he heard back, "All good mate, just finishing up here." A solid crack carried through the radio.

"Don't dent him too much, Lady B might want a chat."

The only sounds left were the ticking heat of spent weapons and breath. The air stank of cordite and hot metal. His arm ached from the throw. He didn't remember winding up that hard.

The barrel of his rifle lead a final sweep of the room, surveying the carnage. He let himself exhale and crossed the hangar.

His carbine stayed at low ready but kept his finger relaxed as he stepped behind the container.

One the ground, the last Jackal lay unmoving, his helmet visor cracked in the centre. The other was propped against the container itself, wheezing wetly, one hand pressed to his side trying to stop the pool of blood on the floor getting any larger.

"Tidy work," Mirage said, letting his rifle hang once more.

"This one's still alive at least despite his best efforts," he said, pointing at the mercenary at his feet. Gesturing to the other he added, "That one's probably got another minute or two in him if left alone. Maybe less."

Mirage nodded. "You deal with him and the SSE, I've got this one."

Kneeling down, Mirage pulled off the wounded Jackal's helmet. The ghostly pale face underneath was drenched in sweat.

"You might not thing it, but today is your lucky day. The giant is our squad medic. He's not a gentle man."

The mercenary wheezed in return.

Behind him, Dozer grunted as he flipped the unconscious operator over, zip-cuffing wrists and ankles with quiet precision.

Mirage continued. "Now, I'm going to patch you up and when our mates arrive you are going to be the most friendly, most co-operative chatterbox of a merc this side of The Fringes. Or we can dump you in the sea. Your choice really."

Barely a whisper, the merc managed to say only, "Talk."

"Good stuff. Now move that hand so I can deal with this."

Mirage pulled open the Jackal's vest, exposing where one of Dozer's rounds had snuck past the plates and blown straight through, narrowly missing his spine. Without further comment, he dug through the merc's belt and found med-foam and coag patches. Applying them with a careful touch, he stemmed the bleeding.

From his own belt, he got a tranq-pen and stabbed it into the man's thigh. They could wake him up later.

Standing back up, he saw that Dozer was in the process of policing anything he could from the other bodies. Chances were low the Lions knew anything more than "Protect the Hangar" but it was worth the effort all the same.

He keyed his radio to Lady Bellinger. "Knight-One to Queen, I'm calling Fortress. I repeat, Fortress."

Unflappable as always, she came back with, "Confirmed, Team Knight at Fortress. The other teams are still engaged. How are you lads faring?"

The concern was nice to hear. So very unlike his normal operation leaders. "Untouched ma'am but I can't say the same for the Anhur lot. We've got two needing medivac and four needing bags."

Her sigh of relief was audible. "Roger Knight-One, I'm calling in local Commonwealth forces to secure the container. Hold for contact from a Captain Katiyar."