Sitting there in a drunken haze on that uncomfortable plastic seat where thousands of people had sat before me, suddenly, my droopy eyelids opened themselves to the sudden blazing light, like a deer in the headlights. Tires screeched to no avail, and then, flying pieces of shattered glass sank into my skin, my voice joining the terrified screams of the rest of the people encased in that metallic trap. My head collided against something hard and a deep ringing in my ears sounded while I sank into darkness, into oblivion.

I jolted on the couch, my limbs tangling in the blankets that covered me. I sat up, my breath ragged and my heart thumping furiously. The spacious living room lay in semidarkness, slits of light seeping through the half-closed blinds while specks of dust lazily danced in the air. I gasped when I heard a sudden noise coming from the bathroom, but it was just the toilet being flushed, Adam must already be up. Indeed, his already familiar figure stalked out of the room and into the main area, he looked at me blearily, his usually messy jet-black hair messier than ever.

"Something wrong?" he croaked. "Sounded as if you were choking or something…" he studied me, apparently concerned.

"How…what? Oh, let me guess, augmented hearing?" I struggled not to roll my eyes while I pushed away the blankets and stood up to neatly rearrange everything in a corner. "I'm fine, just a bad dream," I commented casually to my "flatmate", who was already busying himself with preparing some coffee, he looked towards me and I could tell he wasn't fooled by my simple explanation; of course, people don't usually wake up from a regular nightmare breathing as if they had been a couple of minutes underwater.

"Not wanting to remain under his keen gaze any longer, lest he managed to make me spill the beans again (I still felt irritated at myself for having confessed so easily about spying about him), I walked to the bathroom, faking a yawn and trying to look relaxed and carefree. I sat on the toilet, disentangling my hair with my fingers, wishing for a small, simple mirror, what problem did he have with them? It wasn't as if I was vain or anything, but not being able to check whether I had something between my teeth or if my hair looked too dishevelled or dirty felt like a real lesson of humility, how did he get by? Maybe he had one in his room, but the absence of such a piece of furniture in the bathroom was odd indeed. Either that or…well, I could remember how hard it had been for me looking at myself in one after I had got my arms replaced, how, at first, I averted my gaze whenever I crossed a reflective surface. However, I dismissed that idea rapidly; Jensen kind of looked like the typical tough guy, one of those who would never recognise, even to himself, that the whole transformation he had to undergo had affected him. No, there was probably a mirror in his room; besides, in the bathroom there was no real space in the walls, except over the toilet, which would have been a rather weird choice. Maybe I was just being too intent on analysing my host. Deciding not to dwell more on that mystery, I flushed the toilet and left the room.

I went back to the living room, he was already sitting on one of the stools in front of the kitchen aisle. I inhaled the familiar and comfortable scent of recently brewed coffee.

"There's coffee in the pot, if you want," he commented, he had prepared himself a bowl of cereal, as attested by the box of Augmentchoos next to him.

"Mindreading augment as well?" I ventured with a wry grin, sauntering to the kitchen and getting myself a bowl and a mug.

"Who doesn't like coffee in the morning?" he replied, the corners of his lips twitching. I prepared myself some cereals too and my so-desired mug, I sat on the stool at the other side of the counter.

"Me a few years ago, but studying IT Engineering requires quite a few cups, I can assure you," I said with a smile.

"I can imagine…but, I've meaning to ask, are you a journalist or a hacker? The other day you said you were both, seems quite a strange combination to me," he asked, looking frankly intrigued.

"Everyone thinks that…and it is, kind of, but you can't imagine how handy being savvy in both areas can be. Imagine, if I was investigating some corporation or organisation, having the tools to get a peek into their files can really save me a lot of time and trouble and provides a more reliable source of info…However, being a journalist can also have a lot of advantages, especially if you manage to work for the Spanish official channels, they're the ones who issued my visa, otherwise I would not be able to stay here in Prague, being a foreign Aug and all…" I said, covering my grimace by sipping some more coffee.

"So that's your official cover, isn't it? Even if you are working for the Collective…" he guessed after swallowing another spoonful of cereal.

"If only," I thought, "that would certainly make things much easier." Actually, even though if, at least on paper, I appeared as a journalist, I was collaborating with the CNI, the Spanish equivalent of CIA, working alongside a small team set up there in Prague. However, he needn't know that, at least not then; even though I had basically decided I could trust Jensen, it didn't mean I had to tell him absolutely everything about me.

"Officially, yes; of course, they know about my…abilities, and I have lived for many years in the Czech Republic, it was far easier to directly hire me than sending someone else who wouldn't know the language, who would have to get used to how things work around here, and so on," I commented, partially telling the truth about how I had really joined the CNI. By no means was it a full account of my true story, but it was more than enough for him, I tried to raise a barrier when some disagreeable recollections from my past came back to haunt me.

We spoke no more and kept eating and drinking, with me focusing on enjoying the Count Chocula I had chosen, but firmly decided to getting myself some plain oats the next time I had to buy some food, so much sugar couldn't be healthy.

"By the way, where do you have that device you showed me the other day? I'm going to that District place this morning, it shouldn't be too hard to sneak during this time on Sunday," he said while he picked up his bowl and mug and proceeded to wash them.

"Just like that? I mean, are you going in there without any contingency plan?" I asked, looking at him, he huffed one of his short, dry, laughs.

"Detailed plans usually go to hell, I can tell you that, so sometimes it's better just to have an outline and improvise, has worked for me so far…but, I'd rather appreciate if you could get me some blueprints from the building, but if you think it's not manageable, I think I could skip them," he asked, drying the dishes while studying me with those mechanical eyes, as if assessing me.

"A blueprint from a governmental office? Could do that with my eyes closed," I said with a self-sufficient smirk, for some reason, he looked quietly amused. "What's so funny?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You hackers are all the same, best way to get something out of you is questioning your skills," he explained, a shrewd look in his eyes. I couldn't help but grimace, I had risen to his bait like a noob, I should have known better than to fall for such a cheap trick.

"Serves me well, I suppose. Ok, smartass, I'll get you those blueprints," I replied in resignation, washing my stuff as well.

"Nice, I'll be in my room, just tell me when you have them, no pressure," he said, leaving the kitchen, turning his head to me with that obnoxious smirk still on his face.

"Don't get too comfy, it won't take me more than a few minutes," I called back, though I couldn't help but feel rather amused myself.

"So, I sat before my computer, eager to get those blueprints as soon as possible and wipe that smile off his face. Luckily, my job in the CNI meant constantly infiltrating the Czech government databases, so I knew my way around them extremely well, but sometimes a simple search in the "legal" web was more informative than entering the base itself. In this case, I didn't really have to dig that far; the Police Department had set up a tendering procedure to renew several of their offices not so long ago, and the winner of said process was publicly displayed on their State Gazette. Despite being an important architecture firm, their firewall was pitifully weak, so much that I felt tempted of doing so white-hatting for them and solve some glaring issues I had found within their code, but I thought better of it, I had a point to prove, after all. I finally found my coveted files and downloaded them into my own systems, smiling to myself and savouring victory.

"Adam?" I called out, though it wasn't really necessary thanks to his augmented cochlea. I heard the door opening and the familiar heavy but muted sound of his footsteps.

"A woman of your word, aren't you?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Told you it was easy," I replied, turning my computer so he could take a look. He leaned against the table and studied it briefly.

"Can you send it to my Infolink?" I nodded. "Also, what am I to do with the device, provided I can slip in quietly and find the top dog's office…although I think I know where I have to plug it," he added, cocking an eyebrow.

"I could always explain it to you once more, if needed be," I countered silkily. "You plug it to the tower and then to the cable you unplugged. Next, you turn it on and hack the terminal…how are your hacking skills?" I enquired.

"Depends, I don't have much trouble with lower security codes, but more complex protocols are another story," he recognised grudgingly.

"Well, just in case, and to avoid any unnecessary risks, I'm going to give you something, just to speed things up," I walked to my bag and produced a rectangular device with a screen and two buttons at the sides.

"Multi-tool? Why would you need that?" he wondered while I walked up to him again, I just shrugged.

"Well, sometimes I just need to hack my way in somewhere fast, or if I don't want anyone seeing me tampering with some keypad, they're terribly handy, though they get harder and harder to find," I gave it to him. "Remember you can only use it once, though, you'll have to manage any other terminals you find, though I expect the security level won't be as high…if it gets tricky, though, just give me a call, I'll probably be able to infiltrate their systems to help you, but the less traces we leave, the better," I concluded.

"Is that all? Doesn't seem that hard…" he commented, I couldn't help but snort.

"Not at all, that was the easy part…then, I'll have to hack the terminal with a zombie software. The computer will still be usable without anybody being any the wiser, but I will have free access to it…even if it is turned off, I'll be able to remotely activate it. In fact, the SPEAR device is more like a syringe, it will help me 'possess', so as to say, the computer…but…here's the catch, when I'm done, which will take a few hours, you'll have to go back to the office to take it back…" I looked at him, waiting for his reaction; however, with his expression as detached as ever, he just shrugged.

"Should've known…well, we wouldn't want things too easy, would we? I presume that, the stealthier I get in, the easier it will be afterwards…" he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Precisely, so you better tread lightly," he rolled his eyes at my lame play-on-words.

"Leave the stealthy part to me, I'll probably contact you if I really need your expertise, though," he replied, picking both the SPEAR and the Multi-tool, then he left, presumably to get dressed.

I closed my laptop and decided to go back to the couch with my book, it would take a while until he managed to plug the SPEAR there (if he succeeded, that was), and then I would have to wait for the software to invade the whole computer, which would probably take a few good hours. I heard footsteps from the other side of the apartment.

"Ok, I'm leaving, if I need anything I'll call you through Infolink," he called out.

"Yeah, don't worry, not going anywhere, am I?" I replied, turning my head to look at him, through the wall spaces I could see him shrugging into his trench coat. "Good luck, I guess," I added, as an afterthought.

"Thanks," he said, and then I heard the door close behind him.

I sat down on my usual corner with my legs crossed, fervently hoping he would manage to get inside alright, if he were caught, the Czech cops would probably come to his flat next, and the both of us would be sharing a pretty cell, awaiting torture and questioning. Well, he had managed to get in and out of Ruzicka the other day, and he had done similar exploits in the past, and given all the stuff he seemed to have inside himself, he would probably have no problem.

"The morning was sunny and the usually gloomy flat was flooded by daylight, I leaned on the backrest of the couch and enjoyed the gentle warmth on my face. I was beginning to miss being on the outside, able to go wherever I pleased. Of course, I should feel grateful I was still alive, that I had somewhere safe to stay. I frowned, clutching the small USB flash drive that hung safely between my breasts, wondering about what Janus would want to do about it. He hadn't said anything so far, maybe he had completely forgotten about it. However, I sincerely doubted it, and there wasn't much we could do with it, save sending it safely so the information wouldn't be destroyed if I were to die. I was snapped out of my musings by a beeping inside my head, it couldn't be Jensen, he had just left a few minutes ago. I tapped behind my ear to accept the call, my eyebrows knit.

"Tuercas! Where the fuck are you? I've sent you an email through our net…why don't you have your sorry ass in front of the computer?" snapped a familiar voice.

"Gómez, long time since I had the pleasure of hearing about you," I answered, trying to hide my displeasure.

"Cut that shit, we need to meet; unlike you, some of us have been gathering some important info we need to pass on, we have to meet ASAP," he insisted, his grating voice sounded even more irritable than usual.

"Well, sorry, but right now I won't be able, I do have my own work to do besides acting as your fucking secretary, the best I can manage is tomorrow," I replied coldly. I could hardly get away from the computer right then, not when Jensen could need my help at any second, and I would need to start installing the software, even if the rest of the installation would be pretty much automatic.

"Tomorrow? No way, either you come right now, or I'm reporting you to Menéndez, he'll be delighted to know how YOU insist on doing as you fucking please," he threatened with glee, obviously loving the idea of making me look bad before our common boss. "Not even your sister will be able to save you from ending in a emvertedero/em, so you better toe the fucking line, Clank."

"Are you going to tell Daddy on the nasty Hanzer, huh?" I couldn't help but sneer. "Go ahead, but I bet he'll also love to know about that time when you sloppily left traces of hacking in the computer of that military big boss, remember? The ones I had to muck up after you and about which I kept my mouth shut…but, I don't know, if Menéndez were to tell me off for not collaborating, I might get a bit nervous and let something slip…" I made myself smirk smugly at the silence at the other side of the line, even though his threat had manifested itself in a tight knot in my throat. "So, either you give him a call and I spill the beans or either you wait until tomorrow, leave it or take it," I concluded, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You are a dirty little bitch, aren't you? Of course, what else can be expected from your lot…tomorrow it is, then, usual place, usual time, you better not be late," he spat, and the call ended.

"Hijo de la gran puta," I said through gritted teeth. I was sick and tired of him, but he was part of the team the CNI had assigned to the Czech Republic, and I had no choice but collaborating with him, not if I wanted to stay out of that fucking place, a shiver went down my spine.

I would have to go to downtown Prague to collect the information, and it would be better if my host didn't know about it…he would eventually have to leave for work, hopefully not returning until I was back. On the other hand, maybe I could get two things off my list and bring K the feature I had been writing the week before on how they had been sending the children of Augmented citizens to special orphanages as if their parents were dead, arguing that they were too mentally unstable to take care of them.

However, I wasn't so stupid as to think I had escaped all danger. Even though I felt fairly safe at the ex-cop's house, Picus would be probably hunting me down, Markus must have already told them everything about me, a good session of torture would have done the trick well enough…I promptly shut down those thoughts, reprimanding myself from remembering them, I pushed them to the back of my mind. Obviously, I would need some means to go around the city, but how? Using the shield had worked rather well, but I had Jensen as a backup and he could check whether there were people on the streets. If I were to be found, I was painfully conscious I would be no match against those assholes, gun or not; I could maybe keep one of them at bay, but more would surely overpower me, even if I knew how to defend myself. Even just one of them could probably manage; Jensen came to my mind again, how I immediately knew I didn't have the slimmest chance against him, and that clenching feeling in my gut when we had gone inside the sewers, thinking that I was walking myself into a trap.

"Of course, the sewers!" I thought excitedly. They would take me precisely where I needed and, even though I usually met K somewhere else whenever I wanted to hand him some article, I knew for a fact that the official headquarters were in the sewers, I would have to ask him where exactly…would he even tell me? He was terribly paranoid, but he had known me for years, practically ever since I had arrived in the Czech Republic. Also, he would probably prefer meeting me there, it would be a lot safer than in the streets…and I knew he had a penchant for all things clandestine, so it would really suit him. Well, I could always ask, and while I was at it, maybe get a map of the sewers out of him so I could know my way around. Of course, hacking the town council's databases and getting it out of there would be a piece of cake, but if it could save me the trouble, all the better. Then it would be just getting in the sewers; I couldn't help but shiver slightly, my last journey in the dark had been rather disturbing, but it hadn't been that terrible, after all. Of course, I was with Adam back then, and, just by getting a look at him, no one in their right mind would dare attack…but me… "Oh, come on! The sewers are full of people these days, most of them are Augs who have nowhere else to go. If K, Little K and the rest can go in there, so can you, for God's sake!" I thought.

It was decided, I would ask K if he was OK with it and take my gun for good measure, you could never know…the thing was, would I manage to give Jensen the slip? I would have to take the risk…

I stood up and started pacing around the room, suddenly feeling antsy. God, I needed so much to go out…if only there was a little terrace up there, some place where I could enjoy the sun, the breeze…but of course, it was just wishful thinking. It was a really nice flat (especially taking into account the district where it was), but mine at least had a terrace where I could go out whenever I wanted to breathe some fresh air. Wait…while deciding what I should take with me, given that I didn't have many pyjamas, I had packed some extremely old leggings I usually wore while working out, that I had stopped wearing outside when they had become too threadbare, I had even taken a top, not really knowing if I would need it, but it was such a small piece of clothing that it barely took any space, I had packed it anyway, as I could wear it like a normal bra. I could always put on those and try to work out a little bit to release some pent-up energy, I knew plenty of exercises I could do right there and that wouldn't be too noisy, lest the neighbours came to complain.

Already enjoying the perspective of some brisk activity, I sauntered to my bag and picked my clothes, not even bothering to get into the bathroom, as I knew my host wouldn't probably be back so fast. Once I was changed, my feet still bare on the wooden floor, I planned what I was going to do. Maybe I could warm up a little bit, do some shadowing (I couldn't help but grimace, shadowing was my least favourite part of boxing, I always felt so stupid hitting the air, it was far better with a punching bag, but I would have to make do without), then maybe some general exercises, and maybe, when I felt rather tired, some yoga movements./span/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: normal; tab-stops: 45.6pt;"span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"So, I configured some music to play in my Infolink from my computer and started the routine I had improvised. It felt good having some time that was just purely for myself, at last.
…..

From the corner, I studied the big building at the other side of the street, looking for the safest way in. Of course, the front door I discarded immediately, as it was guarded by a couple of cops in exo-suits, covered head to toe in chrome, inexpungable-looking. Obviously, they could be taken down, but it would create such a racket that any pretension of stealth I had would have to be quickly forgotten. I activated the blueprint the hacker had sent to my Infolink, visualizing it on my HUD. Apparently, there was a ventilation duct on the side of the building, on the second floor, if I found some ledge or something I could use to hoist myself up, it would be the safest bet for me…

I let out a measured breath, tearing my cigarette to shreds between my fingers and cloaking myself, I didn't want anybody seeing me around the premises, the Czech Police would be rather paranoid after me stealing that DSD for Smiley, and any Aug around one of their headquarters would be considered a threat. I walked to that dark and silent alley, scanning the building with my Augmented Vision. There it was, that damned vent; it was way too high, but I had also spied a container to the side that would serve me just right. I walked up to it, spread my arms and grabbed it by the corners, lifting it with a grunt; it was quite full of garbage already, if the clanking sounds inside were any indication, but the weight was manageable. I gingerly put it down right under a ledge that would allow me to reach that goddamned vent and then climbed onto it. I activated my augmented legs and then made a grab for that piece of jutting stone. I pulled myself up and, precariously perched on one knee on that narrow ledge, I slid open the vent, crawling inside it immediately and closing it behind me with my feet.

"So far, so good," I thought, starting to crawl through that restricted space. Of course, being a vent, it was full of dust and rather grimy, it looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since the Soviet era. However, if that was the price to be paid in order to get to my target stealthily, so be it, I'd rather drag myself through a thousand filthy ventilation systems than having to risk getting caught or, more likely, being forced to get rid of whoever I encountered. I stopped for a few seconds when I reached a ventilation grid, watching a typical bureaucratic corridor through the slits. Two policemen lolled around, one of them sipping at his coffee and the other animatedly talking to him, the one with the coffee let out a guffaw, almost spitting out his drink. "Are you recalling how you beat the shit out of some Aug, motherfuckers?" I thought scathingly, sliding silently through the vent. They guard was down, they obviously didn't expect anyone to attack them, which in my opinion was a mistake, as evidenced by the recent attack at Ruzicka and another bombing in one small downtown police station. Those idiots should be a bit more alert, even though their lack of vigilance worked just right for me.

I reached the end of the vent and, using my Augmented Vision, checked whether there was anyone around. If not, I could always use my Tesla charges; curious little things they were, though I did not understand why Sarif had not let me activate them with the rest of my augmentations. I could vaguely remember myself speaking to him and him telling me that I had some experimental Augs inside, but that he preferred me not to use them for the time being, not until I had already mastered the ones he knew worked perfectly fine. Why the hell had he installed them inside me, then? Of course, I hadn't had a chance to let him activate them, what with Panchaea basically collapsing with me inside, being pulled out of the Arctic Sea and staying in a coma for a whole year. Needless to say, I could always get back in touch with Sarif to ask him about them, but I did not feel like it, talking with him about my Augs always reminded me of how he was the one who had decided to install them in the first place, how he had toyed and tweaked with my body, taking and adding as he pleased. I clenched my jaw at the thought, trying to dispel that strange unease that sometimes filled me, a sixth sense that told me that something was not quite right, that I wasn't grasping something…

Quickly shutting down those thoughts, I emerged from the vent, once I was sure there was no one in the surroundings, and sneaked around the corner, trying to get my bearings as to where I was. I activated the blueprint the hacker had sent to my Infolink, visualizing it on my glasses. Obviously, the big boss' office was in the top floor, and I was only in the second. I exhaled silently and went onwards, always on the lookout for more people, avoiding any cameras I could find, either by turning invisible or simply avoiding their visual field. Luckily, I was able to find another vent, this one even filthier than the last; I slid inside, wrinkling my nose at the foul odour that pervaded that enclosed space. This one was even smaller, which meant quite a problem for my rather large frame, forcing me to go on all fours in a strange and extremely uncomfortable crouched manner. I found the end on the vent, but it was blocked by some large object, a printer, no less. I gently pushed it away, praying not to make any noise that would give away my presence. I sneaked to a wall and checked the way once more. If I got caught, I would be in deep trouble indeed. I had barely even mastered some basic Czech, and my augmentations would show I was an intruder. They would probably think I was some terrorist trying to attack them, I just hoped my little mistake at Ruzicka wouldn't fuck the whole operation up. Of course, Miller would want to ask a few questions if I was caught red-handed, and I could not possibly justify poking around this place regarding the attack at the train station.

Hearing footsteps echoing down the corridor, I quickly snuck behind a plant, and prepared my Tesla charges, ready to fry anyone if necessary, but only as a last resource, as it would make going back a lot harder. I was about to go upstairs when I found a door locked by a keypad. I grunted to myself and started hacking it, praying for it not to have too high a security level. Of course, the hacker had told me to contact her if I had any trouble, but I didn't want her to think that I was unable to hack even the simplest of codes. I heaved a sigh when I heard the slight beep that meant the door had opened. I climbed the stairs as surreptitiously as possible. As I had predicted, the big boss' office was in that floor. Luck seemed to still be on my side, as there were only five other people inside that whole floor, two of them apparently writing some report, another couple chatting by a coffee machine and another taking a nap before his desk.

I had checked the blueprint while I was in the subway and, obviously, the office I was looking for was the most spacious one. My steps were muffled on the thick grey carpet that covered the floor, something I felt grateful for, even if I could always use my stealth augments, but you always had to watch for those damned biocells. I was perfectly conscious of how much I had to rely on them; only in three occasions I had been forced to make do without, while in Rifleman Bank, the time I woke up in Facility 451 and later when I had to infiltrate the Aug-only, supermax jail called the Penthouse as one of their inmates. Of course, the training I had received in the Police and while in the SWAT had managed to get me out of some extremely tight spots in the past, but my augments did make a big difference, they had even managed to save me from drowning in the cold Artic Sea…suddenly, I felt icy waters lapping at me, the endless silence of the depths of the sea thundering against my eardrums, infinite darkness swallowing me up hole, that briny sensation in my mouth, conscious that my death was on its way…I inhaled a big gasp of air, my mechanical heart beating faster than usual, as if my body was trying to escape once more. Feeling angry with myself, I shook my head and kept going, it was bad enough that I had to relive all those harrowing events in my sleep, no need to let them distract me while awake.

At last, I spotted the door I was looking for. "Level 5, of-fucking-course," I thought to myself wryly. I swore under my breath when I started hacking it, this was well beyond my level of expertise, so I had two options, none of which really appealed to me: either I used the gadget Aurora had given me, either I tried to hack my way inside and, most probably, fuck it up and end with the whole police station trying to turn me into Gruyere cheese. Well, I could always try hacking it and close the command window before the time was up, that ought to give me a few tries but, if that failed, I'd have no choice but use the hacking device. Gnawing the inside of my cheek, I crouched before the keypad and studied every node, not making a lot of sense out of them, then started poking around to see if I could get in out of sheer dumb luck. It didn't take long until I had stupidly wasted all my tries save one, time to give up. I produced the handheld device out of one of my many pockets and aimed at the keypad, which emitted a soft beep when opened. Quickly closing the door behind myself, I studied my surroundings. Besides a full array of deer heads mounted on plates on one of the walls, on the other stood several antique guns, "talk about good taste," I thought, sitting on the eared leather armchair behind an enormous mahogany desk that probably cost more than half the things I had in my apartment "so this is how the Czech police spends taxpayers' money".

However, before I had even started the computer, I remembered I had to connect the other device the hacker had given me. I crouched and crawled under the desk, a rather disgusting thought crossing my mind about someone else being on all fours and doing a little favour to the owner of that office. I connected the device and crawled out, not without my head painfully colliding against the underside on the table. Muttering and rubbing the sore spot, I sat on the chair once more and turned on the computer.

"Fuck," I grunted when seeing that conspicuous "5" on the small window. I was done for, a level 3, yes, a level 4, maybe, but a 5…that was another thing. I resolved to get in touch with the hacker before I bungled it up any further. Tapping behind my right ear, I waited for the connection to be established.

"Hey, Aurora, it's Adam," I subvocalized through the augment implanted in my mastoid bone.

"Everything alright? I didn't expect you to call quite so early…" she sounded slightly alarmed and, for some reason, she was gasping for breath.

"Yeah, everything fine around there, are you, though? You don't sound really well…" I frowned, remembering that morning, when she had woken up, did she have panic attacks or something?

"Oh, that, don't worry, I was just working out a little bit…blowing off some steam, you know? You already at the office? Is there something wrong?" her accent sounded more pronounced, hurried, with that clipped and brisk lilt I had heard in Spaniards before.

"Yeah, managed to get there…I just need some help with the computer, I had no choice but to use the device you gave me on the door, so now I'm stuck in here with no password," I explained, checking the outside of the room to see whether someone was nearby. I was already prepared to withstand a hailstorm of complaints, bitching and moaning, as Pritchard was prone to do whenever I asked him for help.

"Ok, give me a sec while I turn my laptop on," she said, her breath sounding more controlled. "Alright, I need a couple of minutes to enter their servers, please bear with me."

"Well, not the best time to sit around, the chief asshole here might appear at any time, so I'd really appreciate if you could hurry up…" I commented in an offhand way while checking once more the outside and making sure the people there remained at their posts.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to hold on a little bit, if I fuck this up for being in a hurry, the alarms will go off and then you'll be in real trouble, so get comfy while I get this done," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, guess I'll go around the corner to ask those assholes for a cup of coffee," I got back.

"Having an attitude is not going to make things any faster; in fact, it will probably just make me lose my focus, so if you could zip it up…" she shot back, trying to sound serious but with some clear undertones of amusement underneath.

"Not another word," I replied, my lips twitching upwards while remembering a similar situation with another hacker. I leaned back on the armchair and stared at the empty field for the password, as if willing it to write itself.

"Ok, in here it says this asshole's password is PUssYLoVer69, sounds stupid enough to be legit…" I could practically see her rolling her eyes. I entered the key and accessed the computer at last.

"Worked," I replied succinctly.

"Good, now a window will appear on the desk, click 'Accept' when you see it," she said, her tone professional again.

"Done," I replied when said window popped up.

"Ok, nothing else to do here, just get out of there trying not to get caught. You'll have to be back in five hours or so, can you still get in there easily? Is anyone suspicious?" she asked while I got up from the chair and got ready to leave.

"Yeah, provided I slip out just as quietly, but don't worry, leave that to me," I replied.

"Alright, see you in a while," she answered, and the transmission ended.

I rolled my shoulders, not really in the mood to retrace my steps. However, when I looked towards the old-fashioned, slidable window, I had an idea. I slid it open, climbed out onto the ledge, closed the window again and then jumped into the void, letting my Icarus augment kick into action. I landed on a three-point, hidden away in some alley. A smug smirk playing on my lips (using the landing system was one of the most satisfying sensations ever), I turned on my glass shield and took some different turns, not wanting anyone to be able to identify me, specially taking into account that I would have to go back later to pick that device up.

I rode the subway back home, the rickety trains and swaying floors a welcome change after the tension of fearing being caught at the police station. As I always, I leaned against one of the furthest walls, arms crossed, turning over everything that had happened of late. Finally, I reached my destination and emerged to the windy streets, wishing of nothing but taking a shower, those damned vents were full of dust, I could feel it under my clothes, stuck to my skin, mingled in my hair, everywhere. Of course, I was used to getting my hands dirty, both figuratively and literally, but I'd be happy to get rid of it and relax for a while until I had to go back. When I finally arrived at my apartment, I opened the door and spied the hacker sitting in front of the computer, so engrossed in her task that she hadn't even realized I had opened the door.

"Hey, I'm back," I said, trying not to give her a fright, she raised her gaze, alarm in her eyes for a second, but it disappeared when she noticed it was just me.

"Oh, hi, I was just installing the zombie programme, I guess it did go well, didn't it?" she asked while I took off my trench coat.

"Think so, I should have no trouble getting back there, how long is the installation gonna take?" I wondered.

"Around four hours, though it will depend on how strong their hardware is. If it had been some neighbourhood station, an hour would be enough, but I expect their firewall will be a lot tougher here, though nothing the programme and me can't handle," she commented, still tapping on the keyboard.

"Can I have a look?" I asked, frankly interested in the kind of software she used.

"Not much to be looked at for now, but of course, be my guest," she replied, standing up and making a gesture towards the computer. I noticed she had changed into a pair of faded black and gold leggings and a grey top. She did look rather athletic, toned but still fairly slender. What I couldn't help but notice were a couple of parallel, clearly surgically-made, protruding, angry-red scars at both sides of her stomach, nearly to the sides of her torso. It occurred to me that they were probably the ones she had said she got when her ribs had to be replaced. Luckily, I hadn't retracted my eye shields yet, so at least she wouldn't notice me staring at her, no need to get her uncomfortable. I walked up to the computer and sat on the chair she had occupied to see the screen better. Lines upon lines of code danced before my eyes, it looked rather complicated, and though I understood many of the commands, there were some about which I had no inkling at all.

"Is this yours as well?" I questioned her, turning my head towards the woman and raising an eyebrow, feeling rather impressed, she huffed in response.

"If only; well, I collaborated a lot in its creation, by I can't claim the whole merit by any means, even though part of the code is mine," she commented.

"Yeah, but even so…" I studied it once more, had the Collective helped her with it? It was probably so. "So, after this, I go back to the Police Station, get that thing you gave me back and that's it? We can access their databases whenever we want?" I asked, pointing with my chin at the screen.

"Precisely, and it is practically undetectable. As I said, I could have broken their code to get in, but it would have taken a lot longer…and it would have meant breaking in every time we wanted to peruse it, so, it's much better this way, and who knows, it might even be useful for the Collective…" she shrugged.

"Glad to be of help, I guess. I really need to take a shower, I had to crawl through a vent that hasn't probably been cleaned since the fucking Cold War, would you mind if I went first?" I asked, standing and sauntering to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of whiskey.

"Are you really asking me for permission at your own place?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Of course not, just let me use it for a second," she answered, walking to the bathroom, I followed her with my gaze, unconsciously studying the movement of her augmented shoulders, also noticing the way those leggings hugged her body.

"Not bad for a hacker," I thought inwardly; I shook my head at it immediately, feeling guilty for some reason. "Oh, come on, you have fucking eyes in your face, augmented or not, don't you? And a nice ass is a nice ass in any case," I frowned to myself while I watched a stream of dark gold liquid trickling into the glass. Of course, I could still appreciate whether a woman was attractive or not; hell, I had even gone as far as to think that the corporeal image of an AI was kind of desirable, in some strange way, so why not a flesh and bone woman?

"Not that you have much flesh and bone in yourself anymore, do you?" gloated a horrible voice inside me. I commanded it to shut the fuck up by taking a long swig from the glass. It did not make much of a difference, clearly; after all, Sarif, in his well-meaning God complex, had made sure of that with my Sentinel health implant, which was extremely useful given the kind of things I did for a living, but prevented me from finding any solace whatsoever in alcohol, which was a serious piss-off. I had discovered that while trying to drink myself into oblivion, of course, those first weeks after getting out of the clinic, ridden with the pain of severed limbs and metal interfacing with flesh, not totally sure if I wanted to keep on living like that thing, not-quite-human but not-quite-machine, I had been turned into. My clasp tightened around the glass, cracks spidering their way around the fragile material, like diamantine tendrils.

I swore under my breath, pouring the dregs of my drink down the drain (Sentinel or not, having minute pieces of glass inside my bowels wasn't high in my wish-list) and putting it in the garbage. It still happened to me from time to time, usually when I got angry and forgot the power my hands could have, during those first weeks I had broken many good tumblers despite the futility of trying to drink myself senseless. However, even though I didn't drink heavily anymore, sometimes I could appreciate a glass of Nye's Rye, especially when the day had been especially hard. Indeed, after discovering that it was all for naught, I might as well had stopped consuming alcohol altogether, but it kind of felt good indulging for a little bit, even though it was mostly pointless.

"I'm done, bathroom is all yours," Aurora's voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"Perfect, thanks," I replied, marching that way, making sure she didn't see the frown I still obviously sported, a knot in my throat at those still disturbing memories, even if more than two years had elapsed.

I closed the bathroom's door behind myself and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get myself to calm down. "You know it's no good remembering all that," chided a voice inside me. "What am I going to do? Keep running away from my own memories?" retorted a different part of me. In a sense, it had been much easier when I had woken up from that coma, almost a year back then, when I barely remembered my past, thusly being free from certain recollections, but as time had gone by, they had come back to torment me, and so had the nightmares. Putting an immediate stop to all that, I focused on taking off my clothes and stepping under the steamy water of the shower.

I looked at how little runnels of dirty water ran down the drain, slipping between my artificial toes. I grunted when I left the shower plate; troubled as I was, I had completely forgotten to take some clothes from my bedroom, now it was either going out with a towel or putting on dirty clothes. Another quiet groan escaped my mouth when I realized that, as I was to go back to the police station to retrieve that device, I would have to crawl through those vents again, which would mean having to take another shower when I came back. With a resigned shrug, I picked up a towel, wrapped it securely around my hips, threw my clothes to the laundry basket and got out of the bathroom, hoping against hope that the hacker was occupied with her laptop and wouldn't spot me in the short walk between the bathroom and my bedroom.

Rapidly, I strode to my room, feeling rather ridiculous about skulking around my own house, but there I was. I pulled out some fresh clothes from my wardrobe, thinking that it was probably nonsense, given that they were going to get dirty again a few hours later, but better that than having the other ones on, gritty from the dust. In other circumstances, I could have gotten by with the soiled ones, but if it could be avoided... Once dressed, I walked to the living room and slumped on the couch, hoping to relax for a while until I had to go out again. I could hear the shower running and guessed Aurora was in there, probably slipped in when I was in my room. I turned on the TV and listened to Eliza Cassan delivering a piece of news flawlessly, even though it was about the most recent Aug attack in a plane from Cista Airlines. Something smelled rather fishy in that affair, though I didn't know what. A few minutes afterwards, I heard some soft padding out of the bathroom.

"Can't believe how there are people who still believe all this shit," commented the woman angrily from behind the couch, I turned my head to look at her. She was leaning on her elbows against the backrest, a wet sheen on her hair, her skin rosy-looking after the hot shower, but there was contempt in her grey eyes.

"Most people choose to believe the easiest tale, the one that allows them to sleep soundly at night," I replied. "She's only providing them with what they want."

"Yeah, and not because her Illuminati masters have told her to," she grumbled, then she looked at me and her face relaxed slightly. "Sorry, it's just that, as a journalist, this really pisses me off…I mean, I know expecting our profession to be totally unbiased is impossible, I gave up on that notion a long time ago, we all have our hidden interests and motives, but this…this is telling outright lies," she said, gesturing towards the big screen with her chin.

"A means to an end, nothing more, nothing less, if that was the worst they ever did…" I said gloomily.

"Oh, yeah, because if you try to shed some light over the shit they are hiding, then your name goes to their blacklist and you're as good as dead, so much for honesty, I guess…poor old Markus is good proof of that," her tone was bitter.

"You don't even need to go that far, whoever stands in their way is fair game, I can tell you that. So I guess that, given the circumstances, instead of lying down and taking it, trying to bring them out to the light is the best course of action," I replied, she cocked her head ever so slightly, grey sharp eyes boring into mine, as though it was the first time she was truly seeing me.

"I suppose," she straightened up and looked at the screen in a desultory manner, her eyes glassy, apparently reminiscing. I couldn't help but empathize with her; after all, we were after the very same goal, and I knew how hard it could be to keep going when all you do seems to no avail, like trying to quench a forest fire drop after drop. Whenever I sank into those patterns, what usually worked best for me was focusing on the task at hand, thinking on the short term.

"So, is this going to take too long? I've been stupid enough to shower, and I'm going to have to use those damned vents again, not one of my best moves, there," my lips twitched self-deprecatingly, and it earned me a feeble half-smile from her.

"Three hours and a bit, don't worry, I'll tell you when it's good to go," she went away from the couch, presumably to check her computer. She came back and picked up her book, while I watched the news, until I got bored of them and picked up mine as well; after all, reading took up a lot of my spare time when I wasn't working for the TF or doing something for the Collective (was I becoming a workaholic?). I had discovered that weekends in Prague were boring as hell; Augs weren't allowed in most theatres, museums or cinemas, and many bars had decided to either not serve them anything, or do it but in segregated areas or directly hang up those little signs that said "Naturals only".

On the other hand, I already had to withstand their microaggressions, wary looks, hisses and insults on a daily basis (not that any of them posed a real threat to me), and I preferred to seclude myself at home. I surreptitiously watched the woman at the other end of the couch, toying with a strand of hair, intent on her book. Was it the same for her as well? I thought as much, why else would she wear gloves, having mechanical hands? It was clear she used them to hide she was augmented, as well as that beanie of hers covering those two small circuits. Even little giveaways like those could spark hatred in that city, as I had witnessed at Ruzicka right before the attack, when Alex had pretended to bump into a man, who had begun to apologise but, upon discovering the discrete circuits on her forehead, had snapped at her to get lost. And I supposed that most people wouldn't have many qualms regarding Augs who, unlike me, looked like easy prey. However, the verbal abuse wasn't the worst; indeed, the governments' indifference towards crimes committed against augmented people had created the perfect breeding grounds for all kinds of scum: harvesters, rapists, murderers, hooligans who could easily get off with beating anyone augmented, vermin that extorted desperate people in exchange of fake documentation and Neuropozyne of dubious quality…

"My lips pursed at the thought; even though I had been a cop for Detroit's Police Department for twelve years, which was one of cities with the highest crime rates in the United States, those kinds of things still made me feel outraged. Well, I guessed that was better than being like some apathetic and world-weary members of law enforcement I had met throughout my career. And it was not for want of disgusting stuff I had seen, and not just during my time in the DPD. Rapidly immersing myself again into the book which I was holding, I raised a barrier between myself and the rising tendrils of disturbing memories trying to ensnare me.

"We spent the next couple of hours there, reading, only stopping to prepare food; luckily, we still had some lentils from the other day. We were sitting before our plates, distractedly watching TV, when I noticed that Aurora was merely toying with her spoon, a deep frown on her face.

"Something in your mind?" I inquired, curiously, she turned up her gaze towards me.

"It's just…never mind, stupid question, forget it," she said dismissively, but she still looked vexed.

"That frown doesn't really fit with a stupid question, fire away," I encouraged her.

"It's just…well, will it take a lot to check that database?" she asked falteringly.

"Depends, but…I can tell you it's a royal pain in the ass, and the software they use for those programmes is prehistoric, to be honest," I explained, pulling at my beard pensively.

"But, isn't there a way of narrowing down the results? Like writing some keywords for what we want to look for…like… "tattoo tiger" or "head tattoo" or something of the sort…" she looked at me quizzically, I couldn't help but snort.

"I wish it were that simple…there are some ways of narrowing it down, but it's never something that specific…I mean, you can type individual words like "mark" and "head" and that includes everything: scars, big moles, blemishes, birth marks, tattoos, markings from augments…it's an enormous mess, really, looking for someone can take days, if not weeks in some cases…" she looked crestfallen at this.

"What about that Camaro you said? I mean, those two things combined…" she insisted.

"Could be helpful, yes, but I wouldn't be too hopeful either, could be a stolen car, something that is off-record for some reason…there are some loopholes you can use, even changing the plate can make things incredibly hard…" I gauged her reaction, how her jaw tensed.

"Forget it, told you it was nonsense…sorry I even asked…" she mumbled.

"It isn't nonsense, not at all...what's worrying you? If I can help…" I offered, a weak half-smile appeared on her mouth.

"Don't worry, you do not have to be my shrink, you're already doing more than enough just by sheltering me, as I said, I shouldn't have even brought it up…" she made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

"I'd never presume to be a shrink, I just like helping if it's in my hand…which more often than not gets me in a lot of trouble," my lips twitched upwards self-deprecatingly.

"I'll have to humour you, I guess…well, I mean, I know it's impossible…after all, I guess Markus' trail must have already gone cold or something…not that I know much, my knowledge about kidnapping people is just what I've seen in the movies," she peered at me intently. "I know you said it was impossible, but I just can't get it out of my mind, if there was the slimmest chance…" there was an almost pleading look in her eyes.

"You mean trying to find him? I haven't lied to you, Aurora, I think it's practically impossible. I know it's hard to assume someone is out of help's reach, God knows I know, but this is pretty hopeless," I said. "Really sorry to put it out so bluntly, but I think it is best if we assume the worst already. Even if we were able to access the database right now, it would take forever just to find a match, if any, and by the time we had, where do we start? Whoever these motherfuckers are, they won't be casually strolling around the city, hell, for all we know, they may even be out of Prague already, even the country. Even finding them in Prague would be extremely complicated, it's not as if we could have all the patrols in the city looking out for them, and even if we found this guy in the database, which, again, I frankly doubt, there won't be any address where we will find them, criminals don't usually have an address to which you can come a-knocking. Even though these assholes do not look like professionals, they must have some kind of hideout," I explained, dismay was plain on her face.

"Then why are we even looking for them? If, according to you, this is so pointless, why have you taken so many troubles and risked yourself by getting into that place? Why didn't you tell me it was useless from the start?" she inquired, a spark of anger flaring up in her eyes.

"Because the possible benefits outweigh the risks, that's why, and because we have to try. Look, I don't like mincing my words, not even for the sake of telling white lies so you feel better, but I also think we have to try whatever we can, better that than stay with our arms crossed," she leaned back on the couch, angrily gnawing at her lower lip, then she exhaled loudly, raking her fingers through her hair.

"Alright, let's say we do find something, why do you say they aren't professionals, what makes you think that?" she asked, I just scoffed.

"Oh, yeah, because any hitman worth their salt would go around waking up half a neighbourhood and letting themselves be seen by, at the very least, two witnesses. Not to mention the mess they left at the apartment. The whole operation would have been feasible with just one capable guy, someone who would have snuck in while everyone was asleep, sedated the guy and just dragged him silently into a car, I mean, it's not rocket science," I shrugged.

"Sounds an awful lot like something you would do, any side jobs I should be worried about?" she cocked an eyebrow, I could tell she was trying to make light of it, but she herself didn't look convinced.

"Do I look like a hitman to you?" I raised both palms, not sure if I wanted to hear her answer.

"Well, I must confess that the first time we met, it could have gone through my head…very briefly, but don't fret, the more I know you, the more confident I am you're a cop through-and-through," she recognized.

"Not the only one who doesn't like mincing his words, it seems," I thought.

"That a good or a bad thing?" I asked, trying to sound indifferent, she studied me through half-lidded eyes, evaluating me.

"In your particular case, good," she concluded. Something told me she wasn't a big fan of law enforcement, although, being an Aug living in Prague, who could blame her?
"Good to know I pass your filter, I guess," I said dryly.

"Well, anyway, you and your threatening looks aside, why the hell didn't they use a professional, then? It looks like they picked the first goons they could find, not a hard task in this place, to be honest, the city is crawling with them, but why all the racket? I mean, they were basically parading it, as you put it," she pressed, I smiled despite myself at her insistence. Then a thought struck me, my grin slid off my face as quickly as it had appeared, a missing piece of the puzzle finally doing "click". Why, indeed?

"For the next seconds only Eliza Cassan's voice could be heard, delivering the latest features in that detached manner of hers, while my mind buzzed inside, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of ideas in my head.

"Of course," I said softly, partly revelling at the realization, partly chastising myself for not having seen it earlier.

"Care to elaborate?" she asked, seemingly unable to control herself any longer.

"Because it was the best way of no one investigating, of keeping everybody quiet…" I muttered.

"Ok, now I don't understand shit," she admitted grudgingly, looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

"You yourself have said this city is crawling with vermin, but what kind of precise vermin are we talking about? The kind that runs the city in the shadows, the ones who have half the police here bribed so they can go about their filthy little businesses…come on, you've been living here a lot longer than me, you know who I mean…" I saw her eyes popping open, as if struck by lightning.

"The Dvali?" she asked, looking extremely sceptical.

"Exactly, how many people do you think disappear each year because of them? I can tell you it's a lot, the figures the TF's Organized Crime department has pulled are staggering, one more isn't going to be such a big deal to anybody…Who else has the power to make anyone shut up, be it through money, threats or all-out violence? You heard that neighbour of Markus, and she said it herself, that he might have been mixing with the wrong lot…anyone in this city would hear about it and think it is something to do with drugs, gambling or prostitution, all those scumbags' main activities. I mean, what better way of providing an easy explanation for Markus' disappearance that no one would question? That would probably make him look bad so as to discredit any possible accusations he could have made at the ones pulling Picus' strings and, to top it off, avoid any necessary interference for the police, if they ever needed some respite from harassing Augs? Let's put it the other way: respectable but private manager of renowned bank mysteriously disappears from his home, he is nowhere to be seen in a city that has just gone through a horrible terrorist attack. Could he have known something about it? After all, didn't he work for the most important data vault corporation out there? Conspiration theories would pop up everywhere, first of all from those local pamphleteers from Samizdat. People would start asking inconvenient questions, it would begin to appear in the conventional media…not Picus, of course, but it is not the only medium out there, not yet…and I don't think they want the whole affair to be known…" her disbelieving expression had changed to one of deep concentration, apparently analysing my long tirade.

"Shit…it does make sense, after all…it's convoluted as hell, of course, but it kind of fits…I mean, it would be extremely strange for people like the ones who rule Picus to act in such a sloppy way…and after all, they are Illuminati, it fits their sneaky modus operandi, hiding in plain sight, using subterfuge after subterfuge…" she pushed her hair away, impatiently, apparently trying to think. "However, let's say it's the Dvali after all, why would they want to get mixed in this whole mess? From what I know, they are mainly in the human trafficking, smuggling, pimping and drug dealing businesses, why diversify into kidnaping and…well…murdering? I mean, they must already make a lot of money just with these, it's too risky," I huffed a dry, short laugh.

"Answer is simple: more money, and by what I have gathered from them, their kingpin, Radich Nikoladze, is ever thirsty for more power, more money and, why not, increasing his influence even further, so it would make sense for him to jump at such a chance from someone as powerful as Picus…of course, such an operation could go sour at any time, and I expect they have chosen the greatest thugs they can, people they can easily dispose of, turn into a scapegoat if necessary…either that or Picus has something on them, something to blackmail them with. I expect he must have encountered some opposition in his own ranks, I've heard his second in command, Otar Botkoveli, is more conservative, but as he is the top dog…" I hypothesized.

"You seem really well informed for someone who works in Counter-Terrorism," she commented, eyes gleaming shrewdly.

"Never hurts to know what's happening out there, it's always good being up-to-date," I said dismissively.

"So, provided we find those fuckers in the database, then what?" she pressed.

"We will know who we are facing, and it may give me a possibility of finding them before they get to you…but, mind you, if it's the Dvali, it will be hard getting near…" I continued.

"But, why would we want to get near? I mean, if not to save Markus…" I lifted my eyebrows, her mystified expression sobered up suddenly.

"Oh, yeah…I guess you don't mean just having a little chat with them and letting them go with a little pat on their back, right?" she said in a thin voice.

"No, neutralisation is pretty much the only option here…if the circumstances were different, maybe we could forego that possibility," I said gloomily.

"Yes, I know, but still…Fuck, I mean, I've never discussed whether to kill someone or anything…even if it's criminals like the Dvali, I mean, the world is probably better off without them…but…this is pretty heavy stuff…" she looked clearly troubled, but, who wouldn't? Member of a clandestine collective or not, she was a civilian, never having to decide whether to spare someone, or if their death was necessary so that others could live. I had learned that soon enough as a cop, that sometimes collateral damage was unavoidable, but I could understand her predicament.

"Nobody should ever have to discuss something like this," I said reassuringly.

"Would rather not, of course…although…those motherfuckers took Markus, dragged him out of his home in the dead of the night just for doing the right thing…and now he's getting tortured in return," her face fell at this, her lips becoming a thin line, full of revulsion and hatred. "Do you think they are…well, hurting him too much?" her gaze darted towards me, as if part of her wanted me to tell her the truth, but the other yearned to be lied to, just so she wouldn't have look in the face at the horrible truth.

"I remembered waking up in a dingy cabin while a woman beat the stuffing out of me with augmented fists, feeling my broken nose pulsing, blood pouring from each nostril, while some of it coming from an open wound in my head sipped into my eye, I remember being surprised that I could feel it, as those eyes were synthetic. There was not much I could do, restrained as I was, stripped of all my augs, and part of me wished it would stop, a voice inside me told me to tell everything I knew, just to end the pain. However, despite being punched innumerable times, all the threats of pulling me apart once we were in Rifleman Bank, despite all of that, stubborn as I was, I didn't give in, even allowed myself the luxury of scoffing at their threats. The truth was that, calm as though I might have appeared, part of me felt trapped, like a rat, but most of me didn't give a fuck about what could happen to me, I had only one thought in mind back then... "Megan," I had slurred, blood and spittle oozing from my mouth. It had turned out to be all for nothing, after all.

"I came back to my senses, back to Prague, back to my apartment, sitting next to that Spanish hacker. Her gaze was now turned downwards, deep in her musings. I didn't need a mindreading Aug to know what she was thinking, she was probably going through the full catalogue of torture methods she knew, each more painful than the last. However, if Markus captors were clever, they wouldn't even have to resort to them; a smart torturer would just leave the possibility hanging in the air, an ever present threat, while applying more subtle forms of torture. Not all pains are physical, after all, some of the worst are already in your head, couple that with some sleep deprivation, malnourishment and lack of hygiene, and almost anyone would bend. However, it would do her no good telling her that.

"Hey," I put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her back immediately. "It's just no good thinking of all that, I can tell you, you're not helping him by dwelling on what they may be doing to him or not."

"No, I guess it doesn't," she muttered, her eyes still looked opaque, however, she quenched her jaw, as if trying to harden her resolve. "I'm sorry, I keep telling myself that there is nothing to be done, but…well, there seemed to be a slim chance of…you know, saving him, but you're right, of course, by the time we found him, he would almost certainly be dead, if he isn't already…it's just that it gets so hard to forego that possibility, to come to terms with it…" she looked troubled again, but this time she looked as if she had managed to get a grip on herself.

"I get it, really. I promise that, when I get back and we can access, we'll start looking in the database, let's see what we can find," I suggested, she sorely needed some purpose to stop having those thoughts, being focused on something productive would surely help.

"Alright," she acquiesced and forced another spoonful into her mouth.

"We kept eating in silence, and when we finished she immediately went to her computer, to see how the installation was going. I, on the other hand, slumped on the couch, knowing that in a while I would have to return to the police station to retrieve her gadget. Lulled by Cassan's voice in the background, the sun heating the side of my face, my eyelids began to feel droopy, and I told myself I would just close my eyes for a second.

"About fucking time!" someone exclaimed a while later, startled, I opened my eyes and sat up hastily.

"What's the matter?" I croaked, rubbing my eyes, I turned my head around and discovered Aurora looking at me, chagrined-looking.

"So sorry, didn't realise you had fallen asleep…the installation just ended, but you don't have to go right now if you don't feel like it," she answered.

"Don't worry, I'll go now, it wouldn't be good if PUssYLoVer69 came back all of a sudden, would it?" I stood up and stretched myself lustily, my servos whirring in complaint. Next, I walked to the coat hanger and put on my trench coat again, inwardly groaning when I remembered that I would have to crawl through those filthy vents again and take a shower when I came back.