Raindrops hammered the balcony window of Torque's small, Reclamation-subsidised apartment, coating the glistening cityscape in a cloud of misty rain. Terminal had told her to get some rest first and foremost as the Viper dropped her back at the HQ, and to say that she did anything but would be putting it lightly.
That corn snake's cage was her top priority for the evening, and the first half of her tight schedule was spent clearing out and setting up everything her new pet needed, her second half spent browsing through the city intranet for whatever information she could find on this little orange creature.
It was already well into the evening when Torque finally decided to crawl into bed and give herself some much needed rest, curling up in a nest of blankets and pillows only to close her eyes to her evening alarm, rather than open them. And with an exasperated hiss, she sat back up, double checking the clock on her bedside table before rising with a groan. So much for that quick nap of hers.
Terminal's words echoed through her head like a migraine as she browsed through her wardrobe, looking for something that doesn't scream cop, whatever the hell that means . She ran a hand over her rather limited selection, eventually settling on a simple grey hoodie with the addition of one of those tail covers she hated so dearly, mostly to give herself a proper place to conceal her mag-pistol, if anything.
With her uniform discarded over her bed and her rather drab outfit equipped, Torque took a moment to give herself a quick turn in the bathroom mirror, double-checking that her concealed carry wasn't too visible before turning her attention to the snake in the mirror herself, staring her reflection down with tired eyes as she ran a talon over her white facial scales. She yawned, and on that note she finally decided to bid her small apartment goodbye for the evening, no less tired from when she first entered.
The drive back to HQ felt strangely autonomous. The city lights all blurred together under the swish of her windshield wipers, her eyes unmoving from the road ahead without so much as the radio to keep her company. Her body was moving on autopilot, and Torque simply took to the back seat rather than fight it, watching on as her hands guided her off through the downtown industrial sector and into the parking lot of the HQ nestled away within.
Terminal hailed her down as the Viper pulled into a stop by the brick building, the outside rain picking up as the medic broke from the cover of the roof overhang, meeting the snake at her driver's side window.
"Didn't I tell you to get something that doesn't scream cop?"
She turned her attention to the woman leaning by the window, eying her from the white portrait necked top to the black dress pants below, a gentle scoff escaping her maw as she returned the medic's gaze.
"I thought we were arresting her, not taking her out on a date," she replied. "Just get in. It looks like I'm picking up a prostitute."
The medic didn't have to be told twice, her hands raised to the falling rain as she circled around to the passenger's side door.
"What type of place does this Python even work at?" Torque spoke up as the medic settled down into her seat, stretching her legs out as per usual. "Just the name alone sounds sleazy."
"You don't know?"
"Obviously not."
"You didn't even search the name or anything?"
Torque met her with a side-long glare, her tired gaze speaking volumes.
"Oh, believe me, you're going to love it, Torque," she chuckled. "I hear the reviews for this place are amazing."
She sunk into her steering wheel with a hiss, a gentle blue light illuminating her side as Terminal once again got to work doing whatever it is she does on that datapad of hers.
"Oh, and before I forget—check it out Torque, you're famous now."
She motioned the datapad her way, the glow from the screen making her squint her eyes as she took hold of the black device.
ANTI-TERRORISM AGENCY ON-SCENE FOR ANOTHER ALIEN MURDER — WHAT IS THE CITY HIDING?
The title alone made her groan, the accompanying image on the line below even more so—it was a picture taken from behind the police line, the flashing lights of the coroner van coating the all too familiar warehouse in a vibrant shade of emergency orange.
Her squad was gathered by the garage door, standing around with hands on their hips and arms crossed to their chest. And a brisk walk away Torque stood, the Chimera Squad patch on her shoulder sitting in square view of the camera as she gazed back towards her squad.
The perfect front-page photo, sure to garner a few extra clicks.
She pushed the datapad back into Terminal's hands with nothing but a scoff to acknowledge her, returning her hands to the steering wheel as she rolled the car into motion once more, merging out onto the empty streets beyond.
"Not going to read it?" Terminal chuckled.
"I can smell the conspiracy theories from here," she hissed. "I think I'll pass."
The rest of the ride continued on in relative silence, the Downtown traffic growing ever lighter as she pulled off onto the bridge into Riverside, weaving down the endless back roads and blocks beyond before Terminal motioned for her to slow, the two of them staring off at what looked like a rather packed nightclub baring the Snake Charmer name.
People of all species were scattered around the car park out front, even more nestled away in the line that skirted along the building's front. What looked like holograms of various Vipers were projected over the tinted windows, and for a moment her eyes returned to the front door, watching as a rather buff Viper processed each of the waiting customers one by one.
This place definitely seemed to have a certain theme. That much was certain.
Terminal pointed her to a parking garage just a few buildings down, and Torque followed her directions without a word, the windshield wipers brushing off the last few drops of the falling rain as she turned off into the small underground parking lot.
White lights flickered overhead, casting an artificial glow down over the few cars scattered throughout the mostly empty spaces, two very obviously marked police cars sitting side-by-side in the middle as plain as plain could be.
"They could've at least tried to make it less obvious," Torque hissed.
"What? I just see two cops taking their break," she replied. "Besides, I doubt anyone from the club's coming down here anytime soon. Employees park around the back of the club."
Her car slowed to a crawl as she pulled up next to them, turning into the closest vacant spot before switching the car off with a press of a button, the muffled sounds of the falling rain outside drowning out any would-be silence that laid the underground lot.
Half a dozen men and women donning the same blue uniforms and shiny badges sat scattered amongst their two patrol cars, the lot of them slowly gathering around as Terminal climbed from the car and circled around to exchange pleasantries.
"Detective Baker, good to see you," she spoke up, paying the familiar face a brief nod.
"Likewise," he replied. "I've, uh, gathered a few of my finest here to assist. You're both the anti-terrorism agents, though, so they'll be following whatever plan you have to the dime, right, fellas?"
Half nodded, half did not; their squad medic continuing on, nevertheless.
"The plan," Terminal started, placing her hands on her belt, "is for Agent Torque and I to go in undercover and hopefully nab this Python before she has any clue what hit her. A squad car will be on standby down here, another around the back, and once I radio the all clear, we'll be extracting her out through the front before searching and cuffing her in the carpark."
"What about us?" one of the cops spoke up.
"I'm getting to that," she replied, a gentle blue glow lighting up her face as she switched on her datapad.
"You could go home and let us handle it," Torque sneered, leaning up against the driver's side door.
"What my partner was meaning to say," Terminal spoke up, shooting the Viper a side-long glance, "was that you'll all be placed at key choke points around the club itself, far enough away to hopefully not garner any attention, but close enough to cut our suspect off should she try to flee."
Her datapad screen flashed to a map of the city, the internal hologram projector flickering to life before showing a top-down view of the block they were currently residing.
"You expect us to stop a Python?" one of the cops spoke up, leaning by the back door of his patrol car.
"You have the tools for the job, don't you?" she replied, pacing around to tap a random cop on his bullet-proof vest, hand on the yellow-tinted arc thrower holstered upon it.
"Isn't this one a terrorist, though?" another spoke up, getting a few supportive nods in response.
"Just because she's a terrorist doesn't mean she's necessarily any more dangerous than some other unruly Viper you'd meet out on patrol," she replied. "Just keep your arc-throwers charged, your emergency respirators handy, and steer clear of those pointy whites and you'll all be fine. I can promise you that."
The uniformed grunts paid each other an uneasy glance, the hologram projecting from Terminal's datapad flickering off once more as she lowered the device down by her side.
"And it goes without saying, but do not shoot unless your life is in immediate danger. Shooting is an absolute last resort. If you can't stop her through non-lethal means, step back and relay your position to the rest of us. Torque and I are trained for this. Don't try to play the hero."
"Trust me guys," the detective spoke up. "Chimera Squad—for all their faults—are good at what they do. I wouldn't have brought you all out here like this otherwise."
"Any questions?" Terminal added on, standing in wait for a few brief seconds. "Alright. Good. Be sure to keep in radio contact, and above all, don't draw any attention. The last thing we need is our suspect fleeing prematurely."
She took a step back from the gathering of cops, turning to the Viper still coiled down behind her before tapping a hand to the mag-pistol concealed in her waistband. "That little pep talk was meant for you, too, Torque."
"What's that meant to mean?" she hissed, batting the woman's hand away.
"Just… I know your track record, alright? And I'm not about to judge, just… don't shoot unless you're quite literally about to die, alright?" she said. "I'd ask you to leave it in the car, but I think I already know what you'll say to that."
"No," came her stern response.
"Case in point," she chuckled. "Come on, let's go catch ourselves a terrorist."
She left Baker to address his officers as she circled back around to the passenger's side door, climbing inside and sinking into her seat as Torque started up the car engine once more.
The evening rain was still falling strong as they ascended from the parking garage, turning off onto the main road before approaching their target just a few buildings down, the lot lit up like a beacon of neon against the dwindling sun.
She pulled up into the parking lot, and Terminal gave her outfit a last second glance-over, batting away the creases and brushing away the dust before the two of them paid each other an affirmative glance. Torque climbed out first, and Terminal quickly followed, the two of them walking shoulder-to-shoulder across the concrete parking lot.
The bass from some generic techno music beat like a heart from behind the tinted windows, the main doors opening and the two agents parting as a Viper adorned in a black security top carted a human out by the collar of his shirt, dumping the drunk out in the falling rain without so much as a hinge of concern.
"We told you, no warnings," she hissed. "The boss doesn't like to fuck around with the likes of you."
The drunk coiled over onto his side, barely lucid enough to respond, let alone process that the bouncer said anything at all.
She turned to the two behind her, sporting them both a nod as she slithered back past. "Don't let that guy dissuade you. Are you two coming in?"
"It's why we're here," Terminal replied, flashing the Viper a smile.
"Right, step over here then, raise your hands—I'm going to have to give you both a quick pat down."
They trailed the bouncer to the doors, and where Terminal laid her arms out without a hinge of resistance, Torque stood steadfast, arms crossed and her eyes unmoving from the yellow Viper once it was her turn to get frisked.
"What kind of club needs a pat down out the front?"
"We're checking for contraband—you know, razor blades, needles, drugs, knives, weapons," she replied, taking no qualms in sizing the undercover agent up. "It's to keep our staff safe. If you have a problem with it, you can leave."
She relented with a hiss, raising her arms up as the bouncer got to feeling about her body, padding her pockets and the creases of her shirt therein, before her hand came to an abrupt stop as she finally landed on the mag-pistol holstered by her side.
The bouncer hesitated for a moment, but by the time she returned Torque's glare, she had already slipped her badge from her pocket, flashing it in the bouncer's face without another word.
"Does Arthur know about this?" she finally said.
"He will," Terminal butted in, grabbing the yellow Viper's attention. "But in the meantime, I need you to keep things operating as normal, got it? There's a dangerous criminal somewhere in this building, and there's no telling what they'll do if they find out we're here."
For a moment she remained silent, maw slightly parted as she exchanged glances between the two agents, before her hand lowered from Torque's side and she flashed them a parting smile. "Everything seems fine here. Enjoy your night."
She slithered aside to let the two pass, turning to the rest of the waiting crowd not a second later.
"You didn't bring your gun?" Torque spoke up once they were out of earshot, the thumping music only growing louder as they made their way down the hall. "Or did that idiot just somehow miss it?"
"No, I didn't bring my gun," she replied. "Why would I? We're bringing her in alive. It'll just cause unnecessary problems—as you most definitely already saw."
"What if she attacks us, though? How are you going to defend yourself?"
"Torque," the medic hissed. "We're bringing her in alive."
"Not even a... disabling shot? Something in the tail, maybe?"
"Torque."
"Alright, alright, sheesh," she replied, shaking her head. "No shooting. Got it."
They continued down the neon-lit hall, brushing shoulders with stumbling humans and aliens alike as they approached the curtains that divided them from the main floor of the club.
The pounding beats were anything but quiet now, the shitty techno thumping through her brain as she pushed past the velvet curtains, taking a moment to glance around the rather packed establishment they found themselves in. Her eyes scanned from the crowd to the stage by the far end of the room, Vipers adorned in rather revealing clothing taking to the poles in a show of fluidity and flexibility for the mostly human patrons packed beneath.
"Oh. It's that type of club."
Torque deflated with an irritated hiss, eliciting a chuckle from the medic approaching from behind.
"I said you'd love this place," she laughed over the music.
"I swear, if even one drunk tries to touch me, this whole undercover thing is ending with a crime scene."
The medic stepped off through the crowd, coming up to a lean against one of the railings overlooking the tightly packed dance floor below, leaving Torque no choice but to follow suit.
"Baker, how's it coming along?" Terminal muttered into her earpiece, whatever reply he gave never making it further than the medic's ear. "Sure, sure, just let me know when."
"Well?" Torque spoke up, now leaning up against the railing herself.
"Well," she replied, "it seems we have a few minutes before Baker and his men are in position. Let's just… keep an eye out in the meantime."
Her eyes wandered to the bar across the room, then to the few sleazes standing around within, a gentle sigh escaping her maw as she returned her attention to the crowd dancing away below.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"Torque, no, this is literally the worst time to get a drink."
The snake stopped scanning the dance floor, returning her eyes to the woman leaning against the railing next to her. "What?"
"What do you mean what?" she replied. "We're not getting a drink."
"I… didn't offer you one."
They shot each other a confused look, taking a moment to try and discern who was pulling who's leg, only for the voice behind them to clear their throat, grabbing both the agent's attention at once.
"Sorry, that was me," an uncannily familiar voice behind them spoke up. "Welcome to the Snake Charmer. Can I offer you two a drink?"
Torque turned to the Viper behind her, a brief moment passing her by before her brain could process that she was staring into what was essentially a mirror image of herself—another white Viper, adorned in a black leather corset and a fishnet tail-cover, and Torque couldn't sink her head into her hands faster if she tried.
"Torque," Terminal cooed from her side, only prompting the Viper to sink down deeper. "Since when do you have a twin?"
"Gah, no," she hissed, "she is not a twin, we look nothing alike."
"Sorry, is this a bad time?" her double asked. "I just… you were cloned at that New Arctic facility too, right? It's been so long since I've seen a Viper from my own batch… What are the chances?"
"Yes, I was born in New Arctic," she hissed. "You can go now. We're busy."
"No no no, you can most definitely stay," Terminal butted in, that shit-eating grin growing wider by the second. "I never considered that there'd be two of you out there, Torque."
"Oh, there's plenty more than us two," her clone replied, crossing her arms. "There're hundreds of us back home. I've just never seen another of my own this far south before."
"Hundreds of you," she chuckled. "I could only imagine."
"Sorry, I don't think I quite caught your names, by the way," her clone spoke up. "I'm Alice. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Sarah," Terminal replied without pause, before passing the spotlight on to a woefully unprepared Viper. For a moment too long she stood like a deer in the headlights, maw slightly ajar before she forced out the first thing her brain could muster.
"Uh, Sa… Sam?" she stuttered out, the word ringing out more like a question than a proper greeting.
"Creative," Terminal muttered, before Torque elbowed her square in the ribs.
"Can I interest you two in a drink?" Alice asked. "I've been working here a while, so the boss knows me well. I could probably get something on the house."
"Believe me when I say I'd love to," Terminal replied with a chuckle. "But we honestly can't at the moment."
"We're looking for a friend of ours," Torque butted in, finally mustering the will to tear her face from her hands. "She works here."
"Oh, well good news, I've been here forever. I know just about everyone that works here."
Torque dug a hand into her hoodie, pulling out the crumpled up Polaroid before flashing it to her mirror image. "What about her?"
"Oh. Eve... yeah, sorry, no—she's the only exception when I say just about everyone. I don't know her all that well."
"But she is here?" Terminal asked.
"She should be, but like I said, I wouldn't know where to find her," she replied. "We're all rotated on a schedule, though, so stick around for a bit and I'm sure she'll pop her head out eventually."
"Any reason in particular you don't like Eve?"
"It's not that I don't like her, she just avoids me most of the time. I never even get a chance to say hello without her slithering off to the opposite corner of the building," she said. "Then Arthur moved her to a different time slot, and now we barely even see each other, let alone talk."
"Is she usually like that?" Torque asked.
"Not at all," she replied. "She's great with the customers, great with all the other staff… I'm not sure why I'm any different, but… well… what can you do, right? Can't win them all."
Terminal gave her partner a gentle nudge in the side, silently motioning to her earpiece before shooting her a subtle nod. How it took so long to throw a few goons into position was beyond her.
"Look, it was... great..." she strained the word through gritted fangs, "talking to you, but we really need to find our friend."
"Like I said," her clone replied, "she should be out on rotation in a few."
"Do you think you could take us to your boss?" Terminal interrupted. "Arthur, I think you said his name was?"
She scratched the back of her hood, dancing around her words for a few moments. "I mean, I could, but people aren't really allowed in the backrooms. He'll just tell you the exact same thing, anyway."
"We'll see about that," Torque replied.
"Well… alright then, keep up. I'll take you to his office," she replied, nodding towards one of the access doors across the room. "But don't say I didn't tell you."
The clone turned away, slithering through the parting crowd and leaving the two of them to follow along close behind.
They passed the bar, stepped off behind the tables and sound equipment, and with a tap of the clone's wristchip they found themselves in a rather bleak service corridor skirting the walls of the building, the thumping music outside falling into nothing but the bass once more as the door drifted shut behind them.
A few Vipers donning matching, all too revealing uniforms were scattered around the corridor—some talking amongst one another, the rest engrossed in their datapads; the majority paying the three little mind as they made their way down the otherwise empty service corridor.
"I can't get over this…" Terminal muttered.
"Don't you even," Torque hissed.
"I mean, Christ, she even sounds like you, Torque."
"Don't."
It only took a brief walk before they slowed to a halt outside a wooden door aptly labelled with Arthur's name, the two agents crowding around the entrance as their guide reached forward to hold the door open.
A rather packed office sat beyond, painted brick walls sitting corner to corner with a metal desk mirroring the entrance, a human Torque already hated from looks alone manning the leather chair behind it.
"Alice," the balding man greeted with a guttural voice, looking up from the terminal on his desk. "And would you look at that—I must be seeing double."
Torque scoffed at the mere mention, biting her tongue as she turned her attention to the hallway outside.
"These two wanted to see you," Alice replied.
"Right, right... come in, then. Come in," he said, the desk chair creaking in relief as he climbed from the seat, waving the two inside. "And Alice, thank you, but I think the floor's calling your name. Let us be, can you?"
"Of course," she smiled, giving the three of them a parting wave. "It was nice meeting you, Sam."
The door fell shut as the two of them entered, snuffing out the club music in favour of the mellow rain tapping the curtained window behind the owner's desk.
"Please, take a seat," Arthur spoke up, hooking his aviators in the neck of his shirt as he circled around the desk for a better look, his creeping eyes sending a chill down Torque's tail.
"I'm... fine over here, thanks," she hissed, shooting the man a glare.
He turned to the shelf nestled away between overflowing filing cabinets, his hairy arm reaching up for a bottle of whisky sitting amongst old XCOM memorabilia, and Torque couldn't help but note the scar that ran the length of his arm—a near faded blemish of red and purple originating from the two puncture wounds just barely visible on his shoulder, panning out across his skin like a lightning strike.
"Now, I've got to say, you've come at a great time," he started, pouring out three glasses. "The people love Alice, something to do with how... exotic she is, if I had to warrant a guess."
The two agents paid each other a glance, before Torque finally broke the lingering silence.
"What?"
"But two? I've got to say, I'm quite inclined to the idea. People would be just throwing money away to see you two together." He screwed the lid back onto the bottle, bringing it down to a rest on his desk. "I'm sorry to say, though, but we don't take human performers here. Vipers only, tutz."
"What?"
He paused, swirling the glass in his hands as he turned back to face them. "You're... here for a job, right?"
She reached a hand into her hoodie, drawing her badge and pointing it his way like a weapon. "No. I am not here for a job."
"Well, that's a waste of good whisky."
"I'd be inclined to a glass if it wasn't for the fact that it's been within ten feet of you."
"Heh. You're funny. I like that." He took a sip of his drink as Torque garnered whether her disciplinary record could take another assault charge. "What brings you two undercover officers to my establishment, then?"
"Agents," Terminal corrected, flashing her own badge. "We're Chimera Squad, here on behalf of the 31PD. I'm Agent Terminal."
"Agent Torque," the Viper hesitantly added after a momentary pause.
"Well, agents," he started, circling back around his desk. "I'm afraid to say, but I know my rights. This establishment of mine is as clean as they come. My staff are paid well, they're protected, and most importantly—they're all here of their own free volition. If you're here for me, then talk to me. If you're here for my staff, then again, you're going to be talking to me."
"Yeah, I don't think I'll be talking to you any second longer than I need to be," Torque hissed.
"Can I see a warrant?"
"Like my partner already established, we're Chimera Squad," she replied, crossing her arms. "We don't need warrants."
"One of your... eh, dancers, are sought in connection to a recent murder a few nights ago," Terminal butted in, pacing her way into the middle of the room. "Her name is Eve. ID chip... something, something, something, I don't have my datapad."
"We need to talk to her," Torque added on.
The leather chair creaked a word of mercy as Arthur took his seat once more, leaning back as he took another sip of his drink.
"No."
"No?" Torque replied.
"You've got the wrong Python," he stated. "I know Eve. I've known her since the day she started working here. Whoever you're looking for, it isn't Eve. She just doesn't have it in her."
"Yeah, I'm sorry, but you're not the judge of that—we are," Torque hissed, slithering up to his desk. "And what we've found so far is that Eve is the closest thing we have to a suspect right now, so you're either going to tell us where she is so we can do things quietly, or we can march right back out there and comb through this place ourselves. Either way, we're going to find her."
She dropped her hands atop his desk, leaning forward for a better look at the middle-aged man behind the mirrored aviators, and right about now she'd be making a grab for him if she didn't think he'd like it.
He leant back, and for a moment he seemed to mull her words over, before Terminal stepped in for the final strike. "She's a terrorist, Arthur," she said, arms crossed. "Former Grey Phoenix in hiding. Whether she committed this murder or not, she's still going back to the detention centre for a long time. Just make this easy for us, alright?"
He mumbled a sentence of nothings, taking another swig of his glass before he leant forward to tap a number into the phone on his desk. He held for the first ring, then for the second, and by the third a feminine voice picked up, greeting the man by name.
"Yeah, Mel, get Amelia down here, can ya?" A pause; a hiss of words she couldn't hear. "Alright, thank you—and yeah, tell her it's important."
He returned the phone to its cradle, taking the glass of whisky in its place as he leant back for another second of silence, his pudgy fingers rubbing against his brow.
"Amelia?" Torque hissed. "We're not looking for an Amelia."
"She's head of security," he replied. "I don't know where Eve is, but if anyone does, it'll be her."
"You better not be giving us the run-around here," she hissed, shooting him an accusatory talon. "Because believe me, I won't be happy if you're giving me the run-around."
"Look, tutz, I promise you when I tell you I don't know where each of my individual staff are at all hours of the night," he replied. "Just sit tight, and we'll find that Python for you."
Terminal motioned the Viper back with a simple wave of the hand, stepping off into the far corner of the room before exchanging a hushed back and forth with the cops in her earpiece, leaving Torque to once again pace the room with an impatient itch in her tail.
The shelves were the first thing to catch her eye, medals and trinkets and old-world memorabilia sitting amongst bottles of pricey liquor, with a faded XCOM flag hung from the brickwork above to tie it all together.
"So... interesting scar on your arm," Terminal started, returning to the world around her. "Viper venom, I take it—and a pretty healthy dose, at that. If I had to warrant a guess... twelve years old?"
"Gah, don't indulge him," Torque hissed.
"Oh, this old thing?" he started, earning a groan and an eye roll from the Viper. "I'd say twelve years is about right. Where does the time go, eh?"
"Tell me about it," she replied, humouring him with a laugh as she stepped up next to Torque for her own look at the shelves of trinkets and memories. "You served with XCOM?"
"Yep, ten years of service," he said, raising a glass to the air. "Still fly that flag high and proud. Met my first Viper aboard the Avenger too, actually. Selina, her name was. Skirmisher corps."
"And let me guess," Torque sneered. "You tried to make some creepy move on her, and she gave you a shoulder full of venom for it?"
"Oh, no, not at all—this was just from a random ADVENT Viper," he replied, bringing his free hand to a rest on his scars. "Flanked us out in the slums and sunk her fangs in before anyone even knew what happened. I was lucky my guys had a shot of anti-venom on hand. A few seconds later, and I would've been dead. Absolutely hated Vipers for years after that."
"But Selina was different?"
"Selina helped me through some dark times. She was a good friend to me. Made me see the aliens as more than just aliens, you know?"
"And now you own a strip club full of them."
Terminal grabbed a medal from the collection on the shelf, the silver plating catching the lights above as she held it to the air for a better look. "How did you go from decorated XCOM veteran to Viper strip club owner?" she said. "That's quite the leap in profession."
"Ah, now that tale brings us right on back to Selina," he replied, leaning back in thought. "You see, it was tough for a lot of non-humans after the war, even in a place like City 31. Some shady strip club nestled away in the backstreets of Downtown was the only place that'd give her work. One customer got a bit too grabby, though, and management did jack-shit to help her. I let her crash on my couch for a few weeks while she searched for a new job after that."
"Only good news from here, I hope," Terminal spoke up.
"Good news indeed," he replied. "I helped her get in with a construction company out by the walls. She got her own house, her own car, even got engaged—and to a human, believe it or not! Now I don't have a thing for Vipers myself, but—"
"You don't have a thing for Vipers?" Torque sneered, crossing her arms. "The owner of a Viper strip club doesn't have a thing for Vipers?"
"What can I say? Just never saw the appeal—eh, no offence, of course." He leant forward once more, downing the last sip of his drink before bringing the glass to a rest on his desk. "But what I did see was an opportunity. I wanted to open up a club where Vipers could feel safe. And if I save even one from what Selina had to go through, then I'm a happy man."
Torque breathed a sigh of relief as a knock on the door cut through their little story time, the same bouncer that gave them a frisk back at the front door peeking her head inside. For a moment her gaze lingered on the two of them, a second passing by before she turned to the man behind the desk, pushing the door open the rest of the way.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Amelia, please, come in," he waved. "How's the night been?"
"Had to throw a few more drunks out, but other than that, it's been—"
Torque halted the Viper with an outstretched hand as she slithered inside, pulling her attention her way. "We're looking for one of your staff. Arthur said you'd know where she is."
The bouncer's eyes returned to her boss, who only responded with a nod. "Straight to the point, this one," he said with a half laugh. "You don't happen to know where Eve is, do you?"
"The dancer?" She unclipped the radio on her belt, turning her eyes to the floor as she adjusted the knob on the top. "Not off the top of my head, but I can find out."
"And make it quick," Torque added, eyes trailing the bouncer as she slithered off into the corner to kick off a conversation with her radio.
That impatient itch rose once more, and with a sigh Torque dug her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, returning her attention to the shelves as she took a moment to drown out the world around her.
"Look, Torque, I've just got to say…" Arthur started, standing from his chair before parting the blinds of the window behind him, watching the rain still falling strong outside.
"Save it," she hissed. "Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind."
"I know that, you're cops, I've been through this little charade before," he replied. "Just… whatever she's done, whatever she was… go easy on her, yeah? Eve's a good Python, even if you just see her as nothing but a terrorist."
For a moment she paused, mulling his words over before turning her attention back to the bouncer pacing in the corner of the room, her conversion with the radio drawing to a close.
"Agents," she corrected, before slithering over to join her partner standing in wait by the door.
"Eve's in the VIP section," the Viper spoke up, returning her radio to her belt. "One of the staff members there saw her go in with a customer not too long ago."
"That should give you a few minutes to get up there, then," Arthur replied, pacing around his desk to pay his wall of memorabilia a wistful look. "Amelia, be a darling and escort these two there, can you?"
"Of course," she replied. "Is Eve… in trouble?"
"Nothing you need to know about," Torque spoke up. "Come on, let's go."
She motioned to the doors, and with a hinge of hesitation, their escort slithered out into the halls beyond before the two agents followed, leaving Arthur behind to look across his shelves of XCOM memorabilia lined up against the walls of a now empty office.
They traversed the back halls in a single file line; the thumping beats a brick wall away growing louder and louder as they approached another side door, their escort hanging back to hold it open before joining them on the main floor beyond.
"Those curtains over there," the bouncer yelled over the music, shooting a finger past the crowd and towards a doorway sitting on the other side of the stage. "That's where your Python is. She'll be in one of the private rooms."
"Thank you," Terminal replied. "We can take it from here."
The Viper cut away through the crowd, slithering off towards the main entrance as the two agents made their way around the main stage, parting the curtains to the VIP section before making their way inside.
The room beyond was surprisingly spacious, with a private stage and neon-lit bar for the black suits that occupied the nearby booths. The private rooms sat along the far wall, some with their curtains closed, the rest seemingly unoccupied; and if one thing was for certain, Torque definitely wasn't about to go barging in on any customers and their personal dancers.
"Welcome, can I get your reservation—"
A flash of her badge halted the approaching Viper, the datapad in her hands lowering.
"Slither back, don't make a fuss," Torque hissed. "This doesn't concern you."
"We've spoken to Arthur," Terminal added on. "Don't worry, he knows we're here."
The Viper glanced between the two, a look of bewilderment forming on her face. "Is someone in trouble?" she finally replied, voice lowering to a whisper. "Should I clear everyone out?"
"That'll only make things worse," Terminal replied, now whispering herself. "Just step aside. We'll handle this, alright?"
The Viper nodded without so much as a hinge of resistance, backing away from the door as the two of them passed her by, eying the nearby curtains.
"We're in position," Terminal muttered into her earpiece. "Standby for further information."
Torque turned her attention to the few suits scattered between the booths, the lot of them still talking and drinking amongst themselves like nothing was amiss whatsoever. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie, uncrumpling the Polaroid for a quick refresher on the Python they were after, before Terminal nudged her in the side and her eyes snapped back up to the rooms ahead.
A middle-aged man with slicked back hair and business casual attire drew the curtains of his booth aside, and with linked arms, out slithered their suspect right alongside him, that signature smile plastered across her face and an outfit no different from all the other dancers adorning her body.
She slipped the photo back into her pocket, eyes locked straight ahead as her claws ever so gradually crept lower, coming to a rest on the pistol concealed by her side before her partner quickly dissuaded her with a tap of the hand.
"You take the lead, I'm terrible at legal talk," Torque hissed. "And stay a step back, who knows what she might try."
"I took my antivenom tablets before we came," she whispered back. "Don't worry, I should be fine."
"Yeah, but your stupid antivenom tablets aren't going to protect you from a bite to the jugular."
And with one last confirmative glance, they approached; Eve and her client still chatting away amongst themselves, completely oblivious to the storm that was about to come crashing down on them.
"I mean it when I say you're one of the cuter ones here," the man muttered.
"Oh, please, you don't mean that," Eve cooed back.
"Call me after your shift," he replied, sliding a business card from the inner pocket of his suit. "I'll ditch these company fools, and we can take this back to—"
Eve flinched as Torque grabbed her by the forearm, the Python's eyes widening as she met her piercing gaze.
"My name's Agent Terminal, Chimera Squad. This is my partner, Agent Torque," Terminal started, flashing her badge to the two before motioning the customer aside. But Eve's eyes didn't waiver, Torque's gaze narrowing as the Python's breath grew shallow. "Eve—ID Chip 04 122 435—you are currently being detained under suspicion of murder and terrorist collaboration. We just want to ask you a few questions, so make this easy and come quietly, please."
But she didn't budge, her shallow breaths growing faster by the second the longer she stared into Torque's slitted green eyes, her yellow hands trembling as her body fell stiff.
"You're n-not real," she muttered, her voice frail and shaking. "This is a-a nightmare, y-you can't be real."
"I'm as real as I'll ever be," Torque hissed, impatience dotting her words as she leant in closer. "You heard the woman. Turn around and put your hands behind your back. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Her talons tightened as she moved to pull her arms behind her, but the Python quickly resisted, her breaths growing heavier as she began to mutter panicked nothings.
"Oh, screw this," Torque hissed, throwing the snake's grip before sliding her mag-pistol out in one fluid movement, the watching civilians around them all gasping in unison. "Eve, I am commanding you to—"
The Python's maw shot open with a harsh hiss, and in an instant Torque's vision fell dark, muffled screams echoing from all around her before something hard barged her to the ground below.
"Fuck, the bitch just spat," she hissed, scanning the room through the green haze. "Terminal, are you—"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she hacked out between coughs before pressing a finger to her earpiece. "Baker, be advised, the suspect has fled the premises. Requesting medical on scene."
Torque grabbed her pistol from the ground before climbing to her tail, eyes snapping to the suspect as she sprinted out through the curtains and onto the main floor.
"Hey, stop!"
"Go, quick, I'll look after this guy," Terminal yelled, leaning down to tend to the Python's client now writhing on the ground below. "Hey, someone get me a medkit, check behind the bar!"
Her eyes snapped back to the doorway, and with her pistol in hand, Torque took off without another word, throwing the curtains aside and scanning the main floor beyond.
A few more customers brushed shoulders as they barged past, joining the mostly oblivious dance floor still partying away without a care in the world. A Sectoid pushed past, and with a hiss Torque pushed back, knocking him from her path as she took off across the main floor. And for a brief moment Eve and her locked eyes from across the room, the determined look plastered across the Agent's face only deepening before the Python broke away for one of the side-doors.
The thumping music was still pounding at her head as she cut through the crowd, the flashing lights of the 31PD leaking in through the windows as cops spilled in through the front entrance, a few fanning out across the club as the rest filed their way down towards the back rooms.
She weaved past the sound equipment and barged into the service hall door, tugging the handle for a moment before pressing her wristchip to the reader by the side, a confirmative beep echoing out as she threw the door open, her head snapping left and right for any sign of that damned Pythont.
And right on queue the music behind her fell quiet, the lights above clunking to life before a fire alarm cut across the crowd of groans and sighs.
"The fire exit," she muttered to herself, before taking off in the direction of the red-lit exit signs guiding her from above.
It didn't take long before she was back on the trail, throwing the emergency door open and slithering out into the heavy rain beyond, scanning across the ill-lit parking lot before once again locking eyes with Eve.
"Just stop already!" she called out across the lot, taking aim with her mag-pistol as she slithered out into the concrete wasteland. "You are really starting to piss me off now."
Eve slowed to a stop by a nondescript sedan sitting by the back of the lot, and with no other choice, Torque squeezed off a warning shot; a flash of red briefly lighting up the vicinity with a bang that lingered in the night-time streets. There was no telling what she had in there, and the last thing she needed was a reason to actually shoot this Python dead.
Her front windscreen shattered, and the Python ducked before she could get the car door open, using the cover of the parked cars as she made a dash for the streets ahead.
But through the blanket of rain came a flash of red and blue, a patrol car screeching to a stop ahead to cut off her escape. Two cops dived out, arc throwers charged and ready, and with a piercing hiss Torque shot out her tongue, missing her target by mere inches as she ducked and weaved back towards the fence line, scaling the chain-link fence and taking off down the alley on the other side in a single, fluid movement.
"Come on, do your fucking jobs," she yelled to the cops as she gave chase, holstering her pistol before slithering up and over the fence herself, landing in a puddle of rainwater collecting on the other side.
The police lights faded as the car pulled away, the falling rain blurring her vision and soaking her clothes as she took off once again, eyes fixed on the growing lights of the buildings ahead. Horns blared and tires screeched as the Python dashed across the street, and for a moment Torque stumbled as she blew out of the alley, knocking a few civilians aside before following the trail of stopped cars and pissed-off drivers.
Eve cocked her head back around as she took off down the sidewalk, cutting away through the front door of a bar and bistro packed to the brim with customers. Torque followed, unthwarted by her burning lungs as she pushed her way inside, shoving and shouldering past drunks of all shapes and sizes.
She cocked her head up above the crowd, knocking a Muton adorned in leathers and tattoos that seemed about ready to push back, before Torque pulled her pistol and badge and ushered him back without another word.
To say this little game wasn't getting on her nerves would have been a lie. All it would take was a single shot to the tail, but no, Terminal had to get all high and mighty on her after that terrorist bled out on them two years ago. Wasn't her fault that her SMG round ricocheted into that hybrid's neck.
"Hey, stop her! Stop that Python!" she called out over the shitty country music, wading through the drunks as the two briefly locked eyes once again, a look of fear still plastered across the snake's face.
"Just leave me alone!" she called back. "Please, I don't want to die."
She disappeared through the kitchen doors, and Torque quickly followed, knocking aside a waiter as she barged through the metal doors and into the flurry of pissed off cooks beyond. Eve threw a shelf behind her, and Torque cleared it in a single leap, springing off her tail and tackling the snake through the back doors and down the steps beyond, a puddle of water splashing up over them both.
"I said... fucking... stop, damnit."
She struggled for control of her hands, but the Python wasn't about to go down so easily—her tail kicking and thrashing before she gained enough of an advantage to throw the agent aside, striking her down with a mouthful of poison before she had the chance to recover.
The weight pinning her down lessened, and with a frustrated hiss, Torque rolled over and grabbed her mag-pistol from the concrete she laid, taking aim through squinted eyes and fogged up vision.
She squeezed off a flurry of shots at the blurred figure, lighting the alley up in flashes of red as she struck car windows and brick buildings alike, spent shells cluttering to the ground around her as a blaring car alarm joined the city ambiance, echoing out over the distant blocks as her suspect disappeared around the corner in a yellow blur.
A frustrated hiss fell from her maw as she rose, coughing up a few more drops of poisonous liquid as she slithered up to the corner, scanning the alley ahead for any sign of Eve. But there was nothing—not a single soul no matter which way she looked, and with another rasp cough she dipped her head forward, leaning up against the brick wall as she allowed her burning lungs a moment to recover.
But mixed throughout the running water below, her eyes focused in on a murky stream of yellow blood flowing away into a nearby drain, more and more spots of yellow coming to her attention the further her eyes trailed down the alley. And with one final breath, she pushed away from the wall, slithering down the path and towards the streets that laid beyond.
Her clothes were all but soaked by the time she reached the end, the neon lights that adorned the commercial strip shining down through the rain and over the umbrellas that crowded the street side.
The few civilians out and about slowed as she crossed the path and cut out onto the street, the terrorist's blood guiding her across the road and down the plaza steps on the other side, her grip on her pistol tightening as she watched the Python stumble through the open concrete field below.
"Eve!"
Her voice echoed through the rain, the Python's head cocking back around to meet her gaze from across the crowd of civilians.
She slithered down the first few steps, and Eve quickly turned; Torque's pace gradually morphing into a sprint as Eve stumbled through the thinning crowd.
She hit the steps at the bottom, a direct path forming as she barreled down on the Python with what little energy she had left to give. Eve turned, and the two hissed in unison as Torque pounced, tackling her into the cold, hard concrete below. Their tails wrapped together, Eve's arms struggling for a grip on her foe, and with another harsh hiss the Python parted her maw once more, before Torque cracked the butt of her pistol across it with as much energy her arm had left to spare.
The terrorist's head snapped back, her hiss fading into a whimper, before Torque struck down with another hit across the face, followed by another, then another, then another.
A splatter of blood fell onto the rainy streets with a sickening crack as the Python fell silent, another hit striking the now motionless terrorist before the agent finally froze mid-swing, the realisation catching up through the adrenaline.
"You're under..." She struggled to find the words under her rasp breaths, the darkness that swallowed the edges of her vision fading. "You're under arrest.. for..."
Her voice faded away as her eyes rose to the circling crowd gathering a few steps away, her arm slowly lowering to her side.
Shit... she muttered to herself, holstering her pistol before pressing an ear to the Python's maw. Shit shit shit...
Her fingers found their way under her hood as she felt for a pulse, an eternal second passing by before a deep sigh of relief fell from the agent's maw, a rhythmic—albeit slow—thud pounding against her talons.
She dug a hand into her hoodie, pulling out her badge before flashing it left and right, holding it high for all to see.
"I'm law enforcement," she called out. "Someone call the emergency line, tell the 31PD I'm here… wherever the fuck this is."
She rolled the unconscious Python onto her stomach; her bloodied maw leaking streams of yellow across the plaza ground as Torque ran a hand down her tail in search of that lucky shot, fingers brushing against the murky blood that seeped through her fishnet tail cover.
"Come on, I swear, if you fucking die now..." she muttered through gritted fangs, distant sirens echoing over the cityscape as a random Sectoid knelt down to lend his strikingly ugly scarf as a make-shift tourniquet.
"She's a terrorist, just so you know," she announced to no one in particular, eyes moving between the few phone cameras pointed her way. "And she's not dead… even if it looks like it."
The sirens that pierced the city streets grew louder by the second, flashes of red and blue blanketing the plaza and highlighting every drop of rain as two squad cars pulled up by the stairs, a group of cops accompanied by an all-too disappointed woman marching down towards her.
The cops quickly established a perimeter, motioning the few civilians back before lighting up their holo-tape in a square around them, and Torque couldn't help but let out a preemptive groan as Terminal stepped forward into the mix.
"What the fuck, Torque."
"She's not dead," she hissed. "Just unconscious."
"What part of don't shoot didn't you understand?"
"She got me down and was about to escape, it was the only way."
She knelt to fix their make-shift tourniquet, mumbling to herself as she pressed her hands across the Python's body, studying the gunshot wound before moving her hands higher. She rolled the Python's head aside, another frustrated sigh escaping her mouth before she moved on to feel for a pulse.
"It was the only way to get her down," Torque spoke up, whatever reply the medic could've given falling out as nothing more than a yelp as the Python suddenly hacked up a mouthful of blood over the concrete below, her gentle groans slowly fading into nothing more than muffled sobs.
"Hey, someone get cuffs on her," Terminal called out, backing herself up as a cop stepped into the mix to bind the terrorist's hands and secure a muzzle over her bloodied maw.
"Please…" her muffled voice rang out, her body waking with a few futile twists and jerks. "Please, I don't want to die…"
"We need to get her to medical," Terminal said.
"Oh, please, it's just a single bullet wound… and maybe a few bruises around the face," she replied. "The interrogation room is where we need to get her."
"Torque, she's been shot, the questioning can wait."
"And? I've seen what your medical stuff can do. You can patch that up no problem."
"Yeah, temporarily, maybe, just…" she trailed off, unsure of where to direct her attention. "We still need to get her to a hospital."
"Then get her temporarily patched up," she hissed. "I want to see what she knows before she has a chance to come up with a story to spin."
Terminal's fingers found their way to the bridge of her nose, another gentle sigh ringing out before she settled herself with a deep breath, letting the tension drop from her shoulders. "You're killing me, Torque."
One of the cops handed off his medkit to Terminal, and the woman quickly knelt, digging into the red bag's innards before pulling out a small, handheld med-spray, twisting off the safety seal and giving the tube a few trying sprays in the air.
"Hey, Eve, can you hear me?" Terminal cooed as she tapped away at the machine's touchscreen. "My name's Agent Terminal. I'm a trained medical professional, and I'm about to apply a medical gel to your wounds. You're going to feel a slight burn, alright?"
"Please," she hissed. "Please don't hurt me, I didn't do anything."
"No one's going to hurt you, alright? Just breathe for me, Eve. Deep breath in, deep breath out."
She twisted the nozzle, pressing it to the Python's tail before squeezing the trigger, a thick blue gel spraying over her tail and seeping into her gunshot wound before the Python bucked with a stifled cry, tugging at her cuffs once more.
"See? That wasn't so bad," Terminal said, returning the now empty machine to the medical pouch before rising to join her partner watching on from the sidelines. "That'll keep her stable for a few hours at least. She needs to be in a hospital by the time that gel wears off, though."
"...So that means?"
The medic looked away for a moment, eyes falling to the terrorist laying behind her before returning to her partner coiled in place, arms crossed to her chest. "That means we'll have a few hours to question her," she said, hushing the Viper before she could get a word in. "But, we're doing it down at the police station, not at the HQ."
"You're kidding me," she hissed. "Why there?"
Terminal simply motioned a hand to the Python on the ground, her breaths still shallow and fast. "Because we're meant to be questioning her, Torque. Not beating information out of her. We don't even know if she's guilty yet."
"Guity people don't run, Terminal."
"I'm just saying, let's not jump to conclusions, alright? I'm not sure how I feel about all this yet." She pressed a finger to her earpiece, stepping over the Python's tail before kneeling down by her side. "Cancel that prior medical, we're getting her down to the precinct first and foremost. Prepare a transport ASAP."
She grabbed her by her bound arms, and with a noticeable hint of care to her movements, Terminal pulled their suspect to her tail with a stifled grunt.
"As I was saying before, my name is Agent Terminal, and this is my partner, Agent Torque. We're both from Chimera Squad," Terminal spoke up as she tugged the Python along, that petrified look still frozen across her face as she returned Torque's gaze. "Eve—ID Chip 04 122 435—you are currently being detained under the suspicion of murder and terrorist collaboration. Everything will be properly explained to you in due time."
But Eve didn't respond, the two snakes trapped in a staring contest until the Python could physically stare no longer, leaving Torque to watch on as Terminal escorted her towards the police cars still flashing their sirens at the top of the stairs.
And with a hiss, she too followed, leaving the scene behind for the few cops still standing around to handle. "Someone drop me back at the club," she called out to no one in particular. "There's no way I'm slithering back to my car in this weather."