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Sector 3 is dark at 0200. Using lights wastes electricity, after all.

The stars twinkle above, providing just enough light to see unaided, but the shadows are dark enough to, say, conceal a bunch of people walking if they duck down an alley. That said, it's a lot easier to see if you have a set of NVGs on.

Still, it's not like everything is quiet. Some vehicles move along the streets slowly, watching for anyone out and about doing suspicious things. If you watch closely, you can see the reflective markings designating the vehicles as belonging to the police.

Safe to say, I think our little group qualifies as suspicious. HK 416, UMP 9 and 45, and G11 are dressed in their standard combat gear/skirts, and have their weapons out and ready. I decided to forgo the red jacket per M4A1's words as that's what makes me easily identifiable as part of G&K. G&K is here officially, it wouldn't do any good to expose them to any backlash if things go sideways.

I didn't bring my rifle into Sector 3, since it's a bit bulky and hard to conceal. I still have my pistol, now with the suppressor UMP 45 stuffed into my pack attached, and I managed to get some more ammo from G&K before entering the wall into the city. At the time, I wondered if it was necessary, but now I'm wondering if I got enough. On UMP 45's recommendation, I left the backpack at home and only kept what I could fit in my tac vest's pockets, like the NVGs (currently strapped to my head), extra magazines, and the flashlight with a few other odds and ends stuffed here and there.

In any case, we manage to navigate the labyrinthine streets of Sector 3 to the warehouse district. I look up through my NVGs at the generic warehouse UMP 45 had traced the Traffickers to. It's got some generic company name slapped on it, and a bunch of unmarked vans parked outside. I'm not generally in this area, but even if I was I don't think this place would have stood out. That's kind of the point though, I think.

UMP 45 holds up a hand and we stop. "No lights on the inside. Good. We wait for the next patrol to pass and then we move."

I look around and see another truck rolling past, lights off, going about 10 km/hr. Very slow.

"What are we expecting?" I ask, once again equipped with the throat mic. Man, I wish I could just telepathically talk to people like the T-dolls. They can talk normally to each other without anyone else being the wiser. I'm getting used to them making expressions but not actually vocalizing their words though, so...

"Anyone inside the building that's not a doll is an enemy." UMP 45 states. "Shoot to kill."

I feel bile raise up in the back of my throat, but I quash it down. I have to get used to this. "There's no chance of innocents?"

UMP 45 gives me a look but it's 9 that answers. "Not likely. Anyone here at these hours isn't part of the shell company and has to be complicit in the trafficking."

HK 416 looks at me from her position on my left. "These scumbags will erase a T-doll without their consent, chop them up for parts, and modify their programming to make them into monsters." She growls. "It's unforgivable."

"Ah..." UMP 45 sighs. "Right, she has a thing about this."

"We used to do a lot of trafficker busting." UMP 9 agrees.

G11 yawns. "Can we go back yet?"

"Not if you want to get paid." 416 snaps back automatically.

"But we're not getting paid anyway. Nobody hired us." G11 protests. "You guys just decided to do it. I never get a say in anything!"

"Welcome to the club." I mutter.

"Then, when I'm damaged from not having backup, it'll come out of your next paycheck." 416 retorts.

"Ehhhhhh... Commander, they're bullying me!" The smallest T-doll turns to me.

I pat G11's head. "Can you work with us, please? I'll... uh..."

She looks up at me. "Can I reserve your lap for tomorrow?"

"...Sure. At least, during dinner or whatever." I capitulate.

She looks satisfied with this. "Okay."

"Lap privileges? Maybe I should refuse to do work too." 9 muses. "If I promise not to ditch in the middle of the mission, will you buy me a new coat?"

"No." I shake my head. "Only good children get bonuses."

"This is discrimination!" She almost jumps to her feet theatrically judging by how her weight shifts, but she thinks better of it before anyone has to try to restrain her. "I'm a good child too!"

"...Am I a good child?" 416 asks quietly, and out loud rather than over the radio.

I give her an incredulous look, but her face is serious. "...Yeah, I guess."

"So, I get a bonus?" She asks again, a hint of hope in her voice.

I continue to stare.

"Hadwin, what have you done to my team?" UMP 45 laments. "On one hand, this is amusing to watch, but on the other, we're about to miss our window of opportunity."

On 45's words, 9, 416, and G11 calm down and focus. Sure enough, the truck has trundled past and is about to round the corner out of sight.

"Now." 45 signals and we all move to the warehouse, levity left behind as we move forwards.

Despite the temptation to run, I follow the advice of 404 and walk while slightly crouched, placing my toes down before my heel to avoid loud footsteps. My legs burn slightly, especially the one that got stabbed when the building collapsed, but I remind myself that it hurts less than bullets and keep to it.

Once we get to the front of the warehouse, UMP 9 taps the wireless key reader. I'm expecting it to flash green, but nothing happens for a few tense seconds.

"What's going on?" I mumble.

45 responds. "Better security than this building should have if they were on the straight and narrow." She frowns. "But maybe only on the outside? I don't sense as much on the inside as I should if they have this system throughout?"

The door's deadbolt retracts with an audible thock. 9 holds up a V for victory.

"Not that it matters much to us." 45 continues. "Get inside."

"Why are we going in through the front door?" G11 asks. "Isn't this a bad idea?"

"Not exactly." UMP 45's voice fills my ears. "Here's what we discussed earlier."

As she starts recounting our meeting, my thoughts drift back to my own thoughts during the meeting...

Despite Dad's interruption and the subsequent breakdown of the serious mood, we managed to get a good amount of planning done. We have two days until G&K pulls out of the city, and we have to hopefully uproot Paradeus before we leave.

A technologically superior, highly secretive organization, versus a dozen T-dolls and one inexperienced human. To be fair, both M4 and UMP 45 told me that they do unsupported missions with their teams often enough that this should be easy, but I'm still kinda nervous.

Tonight, the plan is to raid where the T-doll trafficking is going on, and hopefully shut that down. With UMP 45's effort earlier to screw with the Mayor and the general security of Sector 3, RO635 predicted that tomorrow is likely to be a wake up call for the wrong sort of people. She indicated that we need to be prepared for those who support the underside of the city to come out to keep the status quo, but that's for tomorrow. Tonight, they shouldn't be expecting anything.

"-at least, in theory." RO635 concludes.

"But, doesn't Paradeus know we're here?" I ask. "It's not like we're keeping it a secret we're in the city, so they're likely already on their guard."

RO635 nods. "Maybe. I think it's more likely that they're expecting us to defend the MP, given that's what we're hired for. If they want to upset that, it'll go like it did in Belgrade, and nobody wants that."

"Nobody sane, maybe." UMP 45 snorts. "I can't say that anyone in Paradeus is sane though."

"For now, we have to assume some level of competence since it's not like they're bumbling idiots." M4A1 states. "Maybe they're not sane, but they're definitely in possession of the guidebook on military planning given their history of working against us. They're not exactly conventional, but they follow the general principles well enough."

"Alright." I cross my arms and stare at the screen of my computer that had been co-opted by UMP 45 for this demonstration. "So, assuming they think we're just here to defend MP Panagos, there's not going to be too much in the way of security. Can you bring up those blueprints again?"

UMP 45 changes the screen to show a layout of the building, at least as it was constructed ten years ago. It's about four stories tall, with the front section filled with office space. Behind the offices, there's the main warehouse floor and a loading dock off to the right side. The offices have several hallways branching around to different rooms. It's not an overly complicated layout, and it looks like the offices are only one floor high, so no stairs or things. Lots of pipes criss-crossing the building though.

"Honestly, why can't we just pull a repeat of earlier?" I ask, pointing to a high up window and a fire escape. "Looks like it's the same cut and paste layout."

Sector 3 used to be a bit larger back before it was designated a green zone, but when rebuilding efforts stalled, they consolidated it to the size it is now. This led to a lot of buildings outside the wall being similar to those inside.

Not that I realized that until this morning, but still.

"It might work." UMP 45 frowns. "But, I need to remind you, we didn't exactly destroy the forward base earlier this morning. I have no idea how much stuff they recovered. They might be expecting that exact thing."

"I thought we agreed they weren't suspecting action?"

"Probably. Still, if they figured out our entrance, they're going to tell the guards to look up once in a while, and I'd rather not be ten meters up a ladder when they do."

"Fair point." I scratch my head in frustration. "Argh. With how little information we have, we might as well walk in the front door!"

"Actually-" M4A1 taps the screen. "That might actually be a good idea. If you can get in without raising an alarm through the front door, you'll be in the office section. If you get in through any other access point, you'll have to cross the warehouse floor in some way or another to get to the office area anyway."

"There will be guards." RO635 says.

"There's going to be guards regardless and maybe nobody up front in any case." UMP 45 brings up a photograph of the front of the building. "Glass door with a view to reception. If someone's in there, there's going to be lights. Those lights would be spotted by the patrolling police and possibly passerby, so that's not a risk they're likely to take."

"Maybe. If you can get in through the front door-" RO635 gestures and the screen changes back to the blueprint. "-you can head right here. It's the most likely place to store new arrivals and possibly the aftermath."

"A bit cramped to actually disassemble dolls, but they could probably do that on the warehouse floor." UMP 45 muses.

"Why the janitor's closet?" I ask.

"You've never disassembled or reprogrammed a Doll." M4A1 says. "It's not quick if you want to do it well. These guys are trying to make money off their goods, so they're going to do it well. They need a place to store the dolls while they're working on them and that's the largest singular space that is rarely traveled by the day crew."

"Also, that's not a janitor's closet." UMP 45 corrects me. "It's a maintenance closet. No reason to be there until something goes wrong with the plumbing or electrical systems. You just have to make sure the guy you hire to go in there is paid to keep his mouth shut, or is in on it in the first place."

"Alright." I furrow my brow as I try to think up any missing points. "We're only going for the information? We're not going to rescue anyone?"

"We don't have the resources." UMP 45 shrugs. "Stopping them from continuing is the best possible outcome right now and exposing them will do that."

"...Alright." I back away from the computer, UMP 45's response leaving a bad taste in my mouth. "At this point, I'm just trusting you all to come up with a more concrete plan." I sit back on the bed and flop down. Despite my nap earlier, I'm still tired.

"There's not really anything more to plan." M4 says slowly. "None of us in Anti-Rain, nor in Echelon 11 have much experience with stealth operations, so it's just going to be you and 404."

RO635 sighs. "We should work on some excuses if your parents realize something's going on, so we're covered in an emergency."

"Good point." I wrap my arm over my face. "Well… we can say we got emergency summons from G&K."

"That… would cover most cases." RO635 nods. "I'll do what I can to cover your tracks."

"Alright." I say. "By the way, what's the sleeping arrangements? Nobody ever told me."

"G11 and HK416 are sharing the single person airbed in the living room with the couches." UMP 45 starts ticking off on her fingers. "My sister and I are on an airbed in Lexi's room. We've already figured a way to sneak out." She grins. "Did you know your Dad has heavy duty sleeping pills?"

"Don't poison my sister." I glare at the evil T-doll.

"No worries." She grins. "I have a good dosage figured out."

M4A1 picks up where UMP 45 leaves off before I can retort. "15 and I get a couch, Sop and RO635 are sharing an airbed, S.A.T. gets her own couch, and P90 and Tokarev get the last airbed in your parent's room."

I mentally count through the T-dolls. "So… SV-98 is sleeping on my bed?"

"She won the rock-paper-scissors contest." RO635 nods. "Well, get some sleep. It's going to be a long few days."

UMP 45 walks over to the bed and hands me the box of condoms I had left on a shelf out of the way. "Don't forget to be safe." She laughs and walks to the door with the other two T-dolls. "We're leaving at 0200. Don't wear yourself out completely."

"Wha-" I complain, but she ignores me.

M4A1 opens the door and steps out, followed by the other two, and SV-98 steps in-

"'Well, commander, are you ready?' says SV-98 who drops her dress to the floor-" UMP 45 chirps, clasping her hands together and lifting up a leg in one of those outdated love-struck type poses.

I interrupt UMP 45 here. "That's not what happened when you left."

She smirks. "Maybe not, but you can't prove it didn't."

I should have been paying more attention to what she said rather than my own thoughts. I hope she didn't embellish anything else.

416 gives me a brief appraising look before nodding. "Alright, we'll clear that up later. Right now, we're in the middle of a mission."

"We've been inside for five minutes already." G11 grumbles. "Next time, tell me it'll be a long story so I can go to sleep."

"Right." I look around at the lobby. While 45 was talking, we had all entered the building and locked the door back behind us, and then UMP 9 had started rooting around carefully for keys. There's a door labeled "Facilities" that's currently locked that leads to the maintenance closet and a hallway leading to the rest of the office space. At the end of the open hall, there's a door into the warehouse proper. A glow can be seen coming from that area through the seams around the door.

The inner doors use physical key and tumbler locks, so the electronic hacking tricks can't be used, much to 9's chagrin.

9 throws her hand in the air. "Not here! I can't find these stupid keys anywhere!"

"Did you honestly expect them to be here?" I ask.

"Duh! The maintenance closet is one of the places it's critical emergency workers can get to in case of an emergency. There's supposed to be a key to let people in there." She crosses her arms and huffs. "We should also add that to their list of crimes."

"We're currently trespassing." 416 points out. "I don't think that we're going to be able to levy charges on them after this."

"Most we can do is charge them in the court of public opinion." UMP 45 agrees. "Shouldn't be too hard. I already have a decent grasp of the city's networks."

"You certainly work fast." I comment.

"I'm just that good." UMP 45 grins. "As I said, this city's network security is pathetic."

"45-nee is the best cyber warfare doll in existence!" UMP 9 proclaims. "She's able to do stuff that seems literally impossible!"

45 gives her twin a look that makes 9 shrink back a little bit. That's probably one of the things she was talking about when I was in the shower yesterday. In any case-

"Well, since we don't have the keys, how are we getting in?" I look to the door that leads deeper into the office section of the warehouse.

"We could just pick the locks." 416 says.

"Well, Hadwin needed to learn sooner or later." 45 turns to the rest of the T-dolls. "9, 416, go back that way-" she indicates a hallway leading back to the main warehouse floor. "-and find positions to alert us of incoming threats. Stay hidden, we may be able to avoid confrontations. G11, you're on guard duty."

G11 rubs her eyes and grips her rifle, now fully alert. From how often she does that before battle, it has to be some sort of wake-up ritual for her.

416 looks at me. "Yell and I'll come running."

"Glad you've got my back." I respond.

"What about me?" UMP 45 asks sarcastically.

"You can rot and die." HK 416 snarls. "I'm not your savior."

"I'll come get you, sis!" 9 says.

"Can we get moving? I'm starting to get worried we're gonna get caught standing around like idiots." 416 flips her hair over her shoulder.

"Okay, move out." UMP 45 says. "Hadwin, come here."

I follow her over to the locked door and drop to my knees to bring my eyes closer to the lock. "Okay, so… lock picking."

"First of all, I want to point out that there's lots of ways to bypass a lock." She says. "First, you can get access to the key through several means, copy the key, trip the latch like you and 9 did on the roof of the Paradeus HQ, or sometimes even have someone let you in." She gestures to the lock before us. "We don't have the time to get any of those done, so we're just going to pick it. This lock is a fairly standard lock, not very pick resistant. I could open it in seconds."

"Okay?" I continue to stare at the lock through my NVGs. I don't really have a good field of view through these, so I can't tell if 45 is gesturing or whatever.

"If this was a real infiltration where we couldn't leave any trace, I wouldn't let you do this because you're going to leave tool marks, but hey, it's not like there's any pressure, right?"

I glance at her and her face shows she's clearly having fun at my expense. "Do you seriously just enjoy watching people be in distress, regardless of how bad a position it puts you in?"

"Not really. I'd rather be watching from outside the blast radius, but I take what I can get." She shrugs. "Anyway, here's how to pick a lock." She hands me two strips of metal. One of them has a little bend in the tip. "Use the thicker one on the base of the keyhole."

I slide the indicated strip of metal in the indicated spot. "Okay."

"Now, what you need to do is twist it so the key pins are pinned between the tumbler and the lock body. Since the key pins aren't perfectly manufactured, one of the pins is going to be held in place by the twisting motion, and the others are free to go up and down. Use the other tools to poke at the pins and force the stiff one up. This model of lock has five pins in total, no trap pins. Perfect for learning."

"...Huh?"

She takes her hands, placing each finger from each hand on the tip of the other. "Imagine my fingers are pins. Each pin is a different length-" She wiggles her human-like hand. "- and they have driver pins on top of them." She turns her hand sideways so that her mechanical hand is on top. "You have to push up on the bottom pins so the gap between the pins lines up with the rotating cylinder."

"Uh…"

"Look, I'll show you a diagram later. For now, rotate the tumbler and start pushing on the pins with the pick. If one is stiff, it's binding, and you should work on that one."

"Okay then." I insert the second strip of metal and start wiggling it around. Relatively quickly, I figure out where the pins are, and I start poking them. Sure enough, one of the pins doesn't want to move while the rest can be pushed up freely. I poke that one, and it slides up gradually before the tumbler rotates a bit further and the lock lets out a click.

"Oh!" I exclaim, not realizing that I relaxed my hand holding the first tool until I had let go until the lock clicks again. "Aw."

"Ja, you have to maintain tension on the tensioner until you're done." UMP 45 says. "Start from the same pin, and don't let up tension until the tumbler rotates out of the way."

"Right." I go back to it, the only sounds in the room are my breathing and the faint clicking and scraping of metal. Every time I get close, my grip on the tensioner slips and the lock resets. This is really kinda frustrating.

"Hey, sis." 9's voice comes through after a minute or two of me silently trying to get the lock open.

"Ja?"

"There's something odd about this."

I try to ignore the conversation as I prepare for another attempt.

"Elaborate."

"I don't… know." 9 says with frustration. "I keep scanning around, but there's nothing weird on the local networks."

"I've been monitoring the people on the warehouse floor via thermals." 416 reports. "No movements to indicate they know we're here." She pauses for a second. "Though, it's weird. They're not moving much at all. I can tell there's about ten or so people in there… Maybe they're sleeping?"

I finally pop the lock, the tensioner once again slipping but this time it doesn't matter. The tumbler is sideways, and it rotates freely! I twist it further with the pick like I would with a key and the door latch slides in, allowing the door to swing open. I turn to UMP 45 who mockingly mimes a clapping gesture.

"Maybe they're lying low while we're in the sector?" 9 muses. "Sis, can you run a scan too?"

"May as well." UMP 45 agrees.

I push open the door to find a short hallway with a few additional doors. One of them is clearly marked as the "Maintenance Closet" and I walk over to it, passing doors leading to either side with labels like "Server Room" and "Janitor's Closet".

"9, 416, be on high alert." UMP45 says suddenly. "We may have a problem. G11, follow us in."

I turn to face the door I had entered through and watch G11 come through and quietly shut the door. "What's going on?"

Instead of answering me, 45 speaks to her sister. "9, prepare to block any outbound radio traffic."

"Sicher." 9 says, suddenly a lot less cheerful.

"45, what's going on?" 416 demands.

"I did a scan, and what do you know, there's nothing suspicious. Nothing suspicious at all." 45 says. "Which is suspicious in and of itself, since we're this close to the closet we should be able to detect Doll cores."

"...Shit." I curse. "Nothing?"

"Mmm. They must have moved their operation." UMP 45 concludes. "416, can you get a visual of the people on the warehouse floor?"

"Ja. I need to reposition, but I'll do so momentarily." 416 responds.

"Maybe they just don't have any dolls here right now? Waiting for a delivery?" 9 asks.

"Maybe." 45 turns to me. "Get the other door open. We need to see if there's anything here."

I go to work picking the next lock, and the 45 goes quiet, staring off into the distance. G11 sights in on the door leading back to the lobby, lying down for better accuracy.

"45, we've got hostages." 416's voice comes over the radio, almost ruining my concentration.

"What?" UMP 45 looks away as she responds to 416.

"I don't know who they are, but the people in the building are tied to chairs. That's why they weren't moving." She doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "I can't tell if they're booby trapped."

The tumbler on the lock twists, and I look back at 45.

Her one eye fixes on me. "Hadwin, open the door very carefully."

I nod and rotate the lock a bit more before using a single finger to push at the door back, a tiny bit at a time.

Before it's even a few centimeters open, I can see something placed next to the door, and I can't tell what it is. "Uh, UMP 45?"

She steps next to me. "That's a trip wire." She announces. "This room is rigged to explode."

I step a few steps back from the door.

45 continues. "416, expect the hostages to be rigged similarly. 9, come back and start grabbing anything that could give us a clue. They're not screwing around."

"Are we going to find anything?" 9 asks. "They were clearly expecting us."

"Maybe." UMP 45 says. "We don't know if they were able to clean everything out. They may just be counting on the building exploding to cover their tracks. We don't know how long they had to prepare."

"An explosion of sufficient size to level the place would be no joke." 9 nervously responds. "Okay, I'll start rummaging around."

UMP 45 shuts the door in front of her. It re-locks as the latch shuts. "Hadwin, we need to get out of here and find where the Traffickers went."

"What about the hostages? They might know." I suggest.

"I doubt it. No reason to keep liabilities around, even as bait." She frowns. "In any case, why are they using hostages?"

"Huh?"

She gives me a look. "We're 404. Assuming they were preparing for us, why would they use human hostages? We don't care about humans."

"Gee, thanks." I snark.

"Are we sure they were planning for us?" 9 asks. "Maybe they're expecting different company?"

'Yes, that's what I'm thinking. We need to get out. NOW." 45 orders.

"But-" I start to protest.

"No buts." She cuts me off, and I realize the disquieted expression on her face is the most unsettled I've seen her yet. She took on Nytos with a smile, but she actually looks serious right now. "If they're expecting other company, we cannot be here."

"Who are they expecting?" I ask, but I get no answer.

416's voice comes over the radio. "45, I'm sending you what I've gathered from the hostages. Can you ID them with this?"

"Sure." UMP 45 unholsters her firearm. "Hadwin, let's get out of here."

"S-sure." I follow G11 and 45 out into the lobby, drawing my pistol to match the others. "Who else would be coming after them though?" I repeat my question.

45 narrows her eyes. "416, I've identified most of them. Can you get me more on these last two?" She turns to me. "I might have an idea, but-"

"Uh…" G11's quiet voice speaks up for the first time in a while. "There's a lot of cars outside."

With mounting dread, I step up to the wall beside the window and peer around it carefully.

Arrayed outside are military vehicles, armored cars, cruisers, SUVs, all types. At least thirty people are quietly moving around, all of them armed. More are in place in the turret of the armored cars or behind open car doors. In the gloom, I can see that the doors bear the symbol of Sector 3's police.

"I thought you said the police are working with Paradeus and the Traffickers?" I say.

"Scheisse." UMP45 curses. "I'm busy, 9 patch the police radios into ours."

"Ja." 9's voice sounds strained. "...Okay!"

Radio traffic starts flooding into my headset, fast back-and-forths between the people outside and presumably a dispatch. I don't really catch anything of note, but I still back away from the window.

45 frowns. "Okay, that's good enough for now. Cut the audio to Hadwin, he's sitting there with a blank look on his face."

After a few seconds more, the chatter cuts out. "I'll keep monitoring it." 9 says.

"Looks like this was a rather serious trap." 45 says. "416, can you verify if there's any bombs around the hostages?"

"I don't see any. Could be bombs under the seats though. I can't tell from my angle."

"Try to get a better angle then." UMP 45 snarks.

"Who are the hostages?" I ask.

"Looks like it's… government security personnel." UMP 45 replies evasively.

"Again, I thought they were working together." I point out. "Why would Paradeus, or these Traffickers, set up their allies to be hostages?"

"...Okay, Hadwin, we can theorize about this later. Right now, we need to find a good place to hide." UMP 45 says finally. "9, did they say when they're moving in?"

"They know someone's inside, and they keep mentioning a signal for go. I don't know if they mean a go ahead from someone or a bomb going off, they're being pretty vague about it." 9 sounds strained. "The only thing back here I found aside from a room full of paperwork is an old datapad, I'm coming out."

"45," G11 whines. "They look like they're ready to bust in."

"45, I'm in a good place to hide, I think." 416 says. "If you go into the records room you can push aside a roof tile and enter the warehouse proper from the drop ceiling area. There's a vent leading to the roof. I think that's safer than trying to sneak past them right now."

45 looks to me. "416, I'm sending Hadwin up first. Get him someplace safe. 9, G11, you too. I have something to do."

"What is it?" I ask, even as 9 and G11 head back down the hallway to comply. There's something about her expression that sets off a warning bell in my mind.

"Don't worry about it." She says and turns for the facilities hallway.

I grab her arm. "UMP 45-"

"I'm serious, go head up with them." She glares at me. "I'll be along shortly."

"I'm going with you." I say.

"No, Gentiane would try to get us killed if you die."

"Uh huh, but you're not going to let that happen, and I'm not going to let you die either. I'll be backup."

"You're hardly backup. Just be a good little human and-"

"UMP 45, I'm committed. I told you I am. My job is to make sure T-dolls get back alive and I'm going to do it for you too."

"Nobody asked you too." She snarls. "I'm not your property to safeguard. Stop trying to be some big hero."

"That's not what I'm doing, I'm trying-"

"Incoming!" 9 interrupts. "They're grouping up to move in!"

45 whips her head to look out the window, before cursing and grabbing my arm, then dragging me into the facilities hallway and locking the door behind us. "Well, Hadwin, happy?" She angrily whirls on me.

"What are you doing?" I ask again. "You have a weird expression on your face."

"I'm…" She reaches over and presses the button on my throat to disconnect the microphone. "There's another Doll here. I'm going to put it out of its misery." For the first time since we've started the mission, her words come from her and not the earpiece.

"What? But you said-"

"Its core seems like it's almost dead, but it keeps sending out really weak signals, too weak for 9 to detect at range. I'm going to see what I can do about it." She glares at me. "Don't tell 9 or G11. They're not innocent, but there's no reason to burden them with this."

I think about it for a second before responding. "...Okay." I nod. "Let's go relieve this doll."

She sneers at me "Not gonna try to talk me out of it?"

"Is there any point to trying?" I ask. "If we could save it, you would, right?"

Her expression shifts to an evaluating one, before shaking her head and turning to the Maintenance closet. She pulls out the lock picking tools, but this time she deftly slips the tools into the lock instead of passing them to me and in only two seconds has the door unlocked.

Gently, ever so gently, she pushes open the door until we can see the trip wire.

"Hadwin, you have that multitool I stuck in your pack on you?" She asks after a second.

"Yeah." I open the pocket on my tactical vest and withdraw the tool. "Seems like it's handy for all occasions."

"Good human." I hand her the tool and she flips out a small set of scissors. "This isn't super high tech stuff, so as long as we don't tug on the string we should be fine." She says.

I watch as she delicately closes the scissors on the wire, gently slicing through the individual strands, the fraying edges appearing one by one as she cuts through the wire near the anchor.

From behind us, the sound of glass being smashed brings me back to reality. Looks like they're coming in and not coming in gently.

45 stands up. "I got it. Hurry."

She practically drags me into the closet and closes the door behind her. "Lift up your goggles for a minute. I need to turn on the light."

I comply and she flicks on the lights. I have to blink a few times to get my eyes to adjust to the light.

I kind of wish I hadn't.

The room is lined with shelves of hands, feet, legs, arms, and torsos. Some Doll heads (including two male-looking heads with mustaches) stare straight ahead, unblinking. Nothing moves. In the center of the room is a table upon which is a mostly intact Doll with a female form, but it's chest cavity is open exposing the hardware underneath. Red liquid coats the area around the table. It's not blood, it's a bit too orange to be blood.

I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to make sure I don't start screaming. They're not humans, they're robots, nobody died- Except, if I acknowledge dolls as people, all of these people are cut up and being sold as bits and parts...

45 steps up to the table before turning back and frowning. "Hadwin, you're hyperventilating."

"Y-yeah, I'm s-sorry." I take a few deep breaths, thankful that it doesn't smell like blood either. Instead, it smells more like dad's garage after he works on his car for a while. Hydraulic fluid, oil, and antifreeze.

"I get it. It's hard to witness this." She says, spreading her arms. "However, this is the environment I thrive in. This is 404's final destination, a chop shop. When our luck finally runs out, we're going to be no better than these poor dolls."

"That's p-pretty fatalistic." I say, noting that my foot is right next to the explosive charge aimed at the door. I carefully step away from it, staying as far away from the cut up dolls as possible as well. This results in me stepping in a puddle of the red hydraulic fluid, which I have to remind myself is not blood.

"It's realistic. Team 404's always on the run, there's not going to be a happy ending." She says, reaching a hand into the Doll's internals. "My fate was decided long ago."

"That's…"

"Anyway," she cuts me off. "It looks like the core is still intact. I'll pull it out."

I watch as she pulls out a small cube, about 10 cm to a side, and she carefully wipes some of the red-orange liquid from its surface. Looks like the one she had… uh… when she took my wallet.

"That's a core?" I ask.

"Ja. This is what contains an IOP dolls' personality and programming. Without it, a Doll is just an unthinking machine, fit only to follow orders."

"Strange." I scratch my face. "I would have thought it would be bigger, and located in the head."

"Nope." 45 shakes her own head. "It's more secure if it's down here." She gestures to her own chest. "Humans tend to aim for the head unless they're properly trained, after all. Too many video games I assume, and even soldiers sometimes aim for the smaller, sure kill target. Aside from all of that, there's more protective layers down here."

Outside, I can hear a heavy thud. After a second, there's another one. And a third.

45 looks at the door. "Well, it sounds like they're breaking into the hallway."

"Oh, fuck." I look around frantically. "How are we getting out?"

"There's only one option: Upwards." UMP 45 points at the roof.

I look up to see the drop tiles you see in offices everywhere. Well, I guess you can climb around up there… "Okay, but how do we get up there?"

"Probably going to have to climb a shelf." She tucks the core into her bag carefully. "We don't have much time."

"Right."

I move up to a shelf and, gulping back some bile, I gently push aside the Doll parts. There's a head in the way, so I carefully move its unblinking form to the side. "I'm going to see this room in my nightmares." I groan.

"Not going to have nightmares if you don't hurry." She says. "Because you'll be dead."

"Not helping."

The banging from outside changes, this time the thud gives way to a crash as the door into the facilities area breaks down. There's still the Maintenance closet door, but it's thin enough I can hear people moving and talking on the other side of it, though I can't make out words.

I climb the shelf and push aside one of the roof tiles. There's about sixty centimeters of room, so standing up is out of the question.

"By the way, make sure to step where it's supported by the wall. Ceiling grids usually aren't that strong." UMP 45 says calmly.

"Well… shit." I haul myself up on top of the shelf and look into the gloom. I don't have a hand free to put my NVGs back down, so I just carefully step up on top of the wall, using a support pillar as leverage.

Up here, the walls are shaped differently than the floor plan. After all, this area is used to run wires and vents and pipes between rooms. Also, it's not meant for people to be crawling around up here. Even in the gloom, I can see pipes blocking entire sections off to the side.

UMP 45 climbs up and carefully slides the tile back in place.

Suddenly, a wave of relief flows over me. We're hidden. We have a chance to catch our breaths. With that realization, I calm down enough to pay attention to the sounds around me, and I note that I can hear the people below on the hallway side of the wall.

"Is it disarmed?" Comes a gruff voice.

A younger man's voice responds. "It's reporting deactivated, sir."

"Good. Open it up."

Below us, the door opens.

UMP 45 seems not to care too much. She taps my shoulder, then once she gets my attention she taps her throat.

I tap the mic to turn it back on.

"Hadwin, pull your NVGs down, and then we're heading through this area to the rest of 404." UMP 45 says silently. "Also, tuck this core into your vest."

I pull the goggles back down over my eyes, careful not to lose my balance before accepting the small cube and tucking it in one of the unused pockets.

Below us, the younger voice speaks up again. "Uh, Sarge? The cable's been cut." A pause. "Or maybe it came untied? No, the edges are fraying."

"...So, someone was here." The gruff voice, presumably this "Sarge" responds. "Attention, all units, be advised that there's a possibility of intruders in the building."

9's voice comes over the radio. "Sis, Hadwin, they know we're here."

"Yes, 9, we heard." 45 says. "We're on our way to you. We have to crawl through the ceiling grid."

"Be careful." 416 says. "It sounds like they're searching for something."

"Yeah, us." I mutter.

"Hadwin, don't talk." UMP 45 says. "They'll hear you."

I give her a look, but I'm pretty sure it was obscured by the NVGs.

"In any case." UMP 45 points to her left. "This way. We need to meet up with the rest of the team."

"45-nee, I laid out a map."

UMP 45 looks to me. "Follow me. 9's mapped out a path to their location."

As we start sneaking along the top of the wall, I can hear the police downstairs talking. "Sarge, I thought you said that-"

Sarge interrupts his subordinate. "Looks like they didn't take the bait. I doubt they're trained to check for traps like this, let alone disarm it."

"Then, if it wasn't Panagos' people, who is it?" The officer asks nervously.

"That is a very good question." Sarge replies. "And I'm afraid I don't know the answer."

They don't say anything more before I step far enough away that I wouldn't be able to hear them. 45 has been leading me around, sometimes turning at odd times just to get around a set of pipes crossing the path in an inopportune spot. I think back to the blueprints from earlier, with the pipes going everywhere, and now I wish I had paid more attention to that detail.

I can't see whatever map UMP 45 is following. I assume it's something digital that was transmitted to her, but in the meantime I'm balancing on top of a wall in near pitch black, a set of NVGs strapped to my head barely making it navigable, and following someone else blindly.

It turns out, NVGs aren't a catch all solution, and they need a little bit of light to be present to work. Thankfully, there's light leaking from around the tiles that barely allows the goggles to see around, but it's still not as good as I'd like.

I'm not exactly having a great time here. Even less so when UMP 45 stops and turns to me next to one of the many support beams.

"Hadwin, I'm going to need that grappling hook."

"What?"

"I gave you a grappling hook, and I need it to get us out of here."

"I left it back at the house." I hiss. "You said that dragging along a backpack of junk was overkill."

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Scheisse."

"So…"

"We're gonna have to climb down." She says. "We're close to the roof exit-" She points to a vent with a ladder leading upwards about ten tiles out. "-but there's no direct path that way. I was going to use a grappling hook on that support member and tie it to this one here."

"Uh, climbing down sounds like a bad idea, Sis." 9 says. "You're in the correct room, but there's two people in there planting chunks of C4. In fact, a lot of the officers all around are placing explosive charges."

"Why are they placing C4?" I wonder. "Aren't they here to rescue the hostages?"

"No." 416's voice is filled with vitriol. "These are the people that put them here in the first place."

"...I'm clearly missing something." I mumble into the microphone.

"It, ah, looks like this was all a set up to catch the remaining members of MP Panagos' retinue." 9 elaborates. "See, G&K was hired when a bunch of her security detail personnel went missing. 416 and 45-nee verified their identities earlier, these are those missing bodyguards and secretaries. It looks like they are here to try to lure the rest of them into an ambush. That, or her current bodyguards." 9 concludes. "Probably."

"What does this have to do with the Doll traffickers?" I ask, still keeping my voice as low as possible.

"They're the same people, mostly." UMP 45 says. "Seems like they were waiting for the MP to come back to enact this plan."

"Okay… so we have to get them out… right?" I ask.

UMP 45 gives me a withering look even as 416 comes in over the radio. "Save yourself first. You're in no position to save anyone else."

I frown, but don't speak.

"In any case." UMP 45 turns to look at the vent access about ten meters away. "We need to get out through that. However, as 9 said, there's people down there, and we need to get access to the vent ourselves."

"Can we distract them?" I ask.

"Really eager to be the distraction, aren't you?" 9 asks teasingly. "I don't think that's a good idea though."

"For now, they don't know we're still here. We could have already left." UMP 45 elaborates. "If they realize we're still here, and more that we saw them and potentially heard them talking, they'd be pursuing us a lot harder."

"Okay. No distractions." I say. "Then…"

UMP 45 reaches down and shifts a tile, letting in a flood of light that washes out my goggles. I have to rip them off and blink spots out of my eyes. By the time I can see properly again, UMP 45 is leaning over the opening between the tile and the frame and looking down at a police officer.

I tuck the NVGs into a pouch on my tactical vest that I had stored them in earlier. With one of the enemies so close, I dare not speak, so I just tap on UMP 45's shoulder.

"Looks like we're going to have to incapacitate him." She says. "We'll wait for the other officer to turn his back, then we'll haul him up here. You grab the back of his shirt, I'll get the front and make sure he doesn't yell."

"O...Okay…" I look around the area for a way to brace myself. I don't want to pull myself down on accident.

UMP 45 positions herself beside the support beam, which is slightly farther away from our target than I would consider prudent.

UMP 45 looks my way. "Come this way, and grab onto this pipe." She commands. "9, are you ready?"

"Yep!" Comes the chirpy reply.

I obediently step over and latch onto the pipe, hand gripping the warm PVC. It's not the best handhold, and I can't see how this is going to work.

Seconds later, I bear witness to something amazing.

UMP 45 slides the tile fully aside, and narrows her eye. "Do it."

The officer's radio goes off, and he looks around for a second, confused. "Was this open before?" He mutters to himself. Then he takes two steps forwards, pulls out his flashlight and aims it up at the open tile.

UMP 45 wraps her legs around the support beam for leverage, arms plunging down towards the police officer. Her human-looking arm grabs his collar, and her robotic arm whacks his neck before clamping over his mouth.

The officer's movement had brought him within range of my grasp as well since UMP 45 had me reposition next to her. I lean out and grab a good fistful of his collar, bracing my leg on the edge of the wall. Pulling as hard as I can, I yank him up.

UMP 45 also pulls and we have him up into the ceiling in a matter of moments.

I make out his look of surprise and terror as UMP 45 rolls him around to lie on the wall, repositioning so her fleshy hand is over his mouth even as her robotic arm draws her namesake firearm. He starts to recover from her strike even as she brings the weapon to bear.

"Shhhhh." She says out loud, the light filtering upwards giving her ginning face with it's singular glowing eye a demonic look. "Loud people don't get to go home to their wife and kids."

He freezes in place.

UMP 45's voice comes in through the radio. "Cover his mouth for me, and please tell me you at least have the zip ties?"

"Yeah, those are small, so I stuffed them in here. Why?" I mutter. When I speak, his eyes shoot to meet mine from where I pulled him into my lap, obviously able to hear me. I guess it's inevitable at this distance.

"Help me tie him to that support pillar." She gestures to the pillar behind her.

"Okay." We're going to have to roll him over and haul him backwards awkwardly, but I guess we need to tie him up...

"We're also gonna need a gag."

"Like what?"

"Are you wearing socks?"

I give her a look, but she looks entirely serious.

"Stuff one of your socks in his mouth." She insists. "That'll keep him from talking."

Reluctantly, I slide off my sneaker and pull off a sock, being very careful not to trip and fall to the room below. This is made even trickier by the requirement to keep my hand on the man's mouth. At least he's docile due to the weapon planted on his forehead. After a few seconds of struggling, I got the sock off and rolled into a ball. The officer looks resigned to his fate as UMP 45 jams the gun harder into his forehead, pinching his nose so he's forced to open his mouth to breathe.

I quickly substitute my hand for the sock and UMP 45 keeps her gun trained on him until I have his hands and feet bound.

I don't know how much of my face he can see, but I can clearly see his scowl the entire time he's not gagging on the sock. I put my shoe back on, and it feels really weird without a sock on.

In a complicated dance, we shift around and push the man up to the support pillar, tying his hands and feet to each other, the arms tied around the beam.

After UMP 45 is satisfied he's tied up properly, she looks back down the hole we left.

"Hey, Andre? Where are you?" Another of the police officers is looking around. "We've got a schedule to keep, you know?"

His radio buzzes, and he taps a button. "Yeah?"

After a few more seconds of buzzing, he turns away. "All the charges are placed. I can't find Andre though, do any of you know where he went?"

"45-nee, they noticed that someone's gone missing. You need to get out of there." 9 reports.

"Ja, I heard." UMP 45 says. "We're waiting for the last man to leave before we descend."

"Um… Alright." 9 says. "Just have to mimic-"

The radio in the man's ear buzzes again. He listens for a second. "He was seen heading outside? Okay." He heads for the door and leaves.

"Well, Hadwin, time to move." UMP 45 drops down through the roof tile, landing on the floor silently.

I carefully lower myself down, aware that we're basically under a time limit. Still, I don't want to make a ton of noise. The room is lined with bookshelves, but not filled with books. Instead it's filled with binders labeled with boring titles like "Tax reports 62-63" and "Client records G4". The kind businesses store en-masse. The binders cover everything, from the shelves to chairs to boxes and even lying on the floor against the walls in places.

Annoyingly, the vent access is in a spot near the center, reserved for a table stacked up with books. The table doesn't look that sturdy either. Thankfully, the table full of books is off to the side slightly, so no need to move it out of the way.

My shoes hit the carpet with a dull thump but I don't think it's that loud. At least, I hope it wasn't that loud. I turn to find UMP 45 already looking at the roof tile leading into the vent.

She looks up at the tile, judging how high it is. "Hadwin, give me a lift."

"Hmm?"

"I can't get up there myself." She looks back at me. "Boost me. I'll pull you up."

"Okay, sure, but don't you we-"

The door to the room opens.

I immediately scramble behind a cardboard box. I don't see where UMP 45 goes, but the thumping footfalls from the new entrant don't seem hurried.

"Hey, Andre?" The new entrant calls, revealing himself to be the same one that was in here earlier. "Are you still in here?" His voice seems more tense than earlier. "Seriously, if you're here, call out. This place is primed to go off, it's not the time to be hiding."

Of course, he gets no answer. Andre's gagged currently.

"Dude, seriously. It's creepy." The officer calls again. "Well, if you're still hiding, remember we're gonna blow this place soon. Boss said he found footprints inside the doll room, so we need to get out. Too much going on we don't know."

Still no response, of course.

"Okay, not here." He says to himself. "So where…?"

After a few seconds, I dare to peek around the box. I can see UMP 45 plastering herself to one side of the shelf while the man (He has a scar on his cheek that I couldn't see from above, so let's call him Scar) looks around nervously.

"Hadwin. Don't. Move." UMP 45 says.

I comply.

Scar looks around another shelf and shivers, before reaching down on his belt. "He's not in here either." He reports back. "No sign of him?"

He gets some sort of response that I can't hear, and then says "Got it. I'll be out in a second."

As soon as he completes his report, UMP 45 swoops around the shelf and thrusts fingers at his neck, and the look of surprise is frozen on his face as he loses consciousness. She turns to me and gives me a "let's go" motion with her hand.

I follow her, crouching slightly to dull my footsteps, and make it under the panel. It's just out of sight of the unconscious policeman.

"Boost me." She repeats, as if we hadn't been interrupted. "We don't have much time."

I was about to ask how much she weighed earlier, but I bit my tongue to avoid the question and mimic 416's move from yesterday morning. I cup my hands and squat down, standing up once she's stepped into my hands. She's… about the same weight as my sister, to be honest. I figured she'd be a bit heavier like S.A.T., but no. I guess she doesn't have too much in the way of armor.

Above my head, she moves the ceiling tile out of it's slot, and grips the bottom rung of the ladder leading into the vent with her human hand. Demonstrating excellent upper body strength, she hauls herself up without any issue.

Behind me, the radio goes off once more.

"45-nee, they're really suspicious now. They're sending a few people in. One last check before they set off the bombs. Something about people not reporting in, and footprints climbing a shelf leading into the drop ceiling area from the maintenance closet."

"Scheisse. Hadwin-" She hooks an arm into a rung and reaches down with her mechanical one. "Grab on!"

I reach up and grasp her hand…

She lifts me a few inches before dropping me. "Uh-oh."

"What." 416 says in a monotone.

"I can't pull him up." 45 looks down at me. "My arm isn't going to hold."

"Why not?" 416 demands. "You were able to grab that officer just fine!"

"My arm's built from scrap!" She snaps back. "Without Hadwin, it would already be in pieces on the floor, along with its owner for trying to pull that stunt!"

"45-nee, the group's almost here." 9 reports with worry in her voice. "You have to get out of there."

"Hadwin, you need to hide." 416 says. "Any place near you?"

"No, not that I can see-"

"Get under the table." UMP 45 commands. "If you curl yourself up under the table on top of some of the binders piled up around, you should be able to avoid notice."

I quickly scramble to grab a few of the binders off of the table as UMP 45 disappears, putting the tile back in place. Once I have a stack of binders, I quickly climb under and onto the binders and curl myself up as small as I can.

The door opens a few seconds later. More sets of footsteps than I can easily discern enter and I can hear them talking in low voices.

At least, until one of them raises his voice. "Shit! Doug's down!"

Another one says in a calmer voice "Sergeant, we found Doug. Looks like he was knocked out. I think we have someone else here."

"Should we wake him up?" Comes yet another voice.

"No, we have to be careful and get him checked out. He could have spinal problems."

"Really?"

"I think so. I'm not a doctor, but I know we shouldn't screw around with him." This voice raises a notch. "You two, stay as a pair and look around."

Two sets of footsteps break away from the group, walking around close with each other. I can see their legs as they move around, carefully sweeping side to side as they walk closer to the table around the shelves and stacks of binders.

"We're not chasing a ghost are we?" One of them whispers.

"Oh for- can it, Yiannis." The other says. "Ghost talk is stupid. Ghosts don't knock people out."

"You don't know that."

They step right next to the table, before starting to circle it. I hold my breath.

"Then what's it the ghost of? Nobody's died here."

"Maybe they did." Yiannis insists. "Maybe one of the hostages-"

"Or, maybe you should shut the fuck up." His partner says. "Let's just check for anyone and get out of here."

They walk past the table and more communications come in from their radios.

"Huh? Still can't find Andre?" The skeptical one asks.

More radio chatter.

"That's…"

"Maybe a ghost spirited him away." Yiannis says, followed by an "Ow!" as the skeptic physically shuts his partner up.

"Fine. We'll clear the area. Yiannis, let's go."

"Yeah, yeah."

I watch one of the pairs of legs bend and the torso of one of the men come partially into view. Is he looking under the table?

Please don't see me, please. Just… go away.

"Yiannis, stop looking for ghosts in binders and let's go already."

"Fine, fine." Yiannis gripes. "You tell the boss we didn't do a full search."

"He told us we're evacuating, let's go."

They start walking away.

"Nice save, 9." UMP 45's voice comes in through my ear. "Don't give anyone more orders, they're already suspicious."

I dare not release my held breath until they round the corner. My heart is pounding in my chest so hard I feel like it's audible to anyone in the near vicinity.

"Hadwin, they're pulling out." UMP 45 says. "You're clear. 416 is by the vent, she'll pull you up."

I crawl out from under the table, knocking over some books along the way. I freeze, listening for any sign of footfalls incoming. Sure enough, they've gone. I carefully walk to the vent, heart still super loud.

The panel opens and 416's impassive face looks down at me. "Grab my hand." She says, reaching her arm down.

I reach up and she starts hauling me up, somehow my heart even louder-

That's not my heart.

As I climb into the roof area, I can see our prisoner, Andre, raise his legs as one and kick at a pipe that he's twisted himself around to get at.

The thumping came from him.

Our eyes meet from across the space, and his eyes look triumphant. My blood runs cold.

HK 416 hauls me into the vent, not bothering to replace the tile. It's time to move.

"I think they found our hostage." 9 says over the radio. "That ghost nut started hearing banging and they actually investigated it, what with them finding footprints leading into the ceiling. We've been made at this point."

"Can we get out over the rooftops?" 416 asks. "Sounds like they're ready to blow the building up."

"I recommend the loading dock, personally." UMP 45 says. "Less likely to be seen exiting."

"But, what about the hostages?" I ask.

Silence.

I can feel my heart sinking as I crawl out of the vent and come face to face with the four T-dolls, 9 and 416 deliberately not looking at me, G11 leaning over the edge of the roof so I can't see her expression, and UMP 45 giving me an askance look.

I head to the edge of the roof, which is actually indoors. I call it the roof, but that's just because it's what's over the offices. The offices are finished and furnished to look nice, but on this side of the wall it's bare concrete and steel. The actual warehouse roof is two stories or so upwards, but this area is clearly not used much. The "floor" is covered with insulation to keep the offices warm and some plywood to make traversing it easier.

The edge of the roof looks out over the warehouse floor, where I can see about a dozen people, heads bowed, limbs tied to their chairs to immobilize them. I don't know how 416 and 45 ID'd them, since they have cloth over their heads. These are the hostages.

As 416 had mentioned earlier, there's no way to know if they have bombs strapped to them, like she said it doesn't look like they have anything attached to them but...

"They've recovered our hostage." 9 reports. "We need to leave, they decided to just blow the place up rather than try to find us."

"Smart move on their part." UMP 45 says. "Does it seem like they're going to monitor the other entrances?"

"Probably." 9 says after a few more seconds. "We may need to fight our way out."

"Wonderful." 416 snarls. "Just what tonight needed."

"We need to get moving." G11 sulks. "I'm tired and I don't want to be cooked alive."

"Neither do the hostages." I growl.

"Hadwin-" 416 starts.

"I know." I mutter. "But I don't have to like it." I can feel something inside of me stretching, screaming that I can't just leave them here. But I have to. This is the world I'm part of now. I bite my lip to keep from yelling, and turn to look at the loading dock. "How do we get out?"

UMP 45 points to the door, then traces a path back. "Just get there as fast as we can." The others leap over the edge of the roof even as she points. "Let's go."

I scramble over the side of the roof, landing on a crate. Stealth isn't important now, speed is. I start running, head down-

"H-Hello?"

I freeze in place.

Beside me, one of the hostages turns his head. In a cracked voice, he speaks again. "W-who are you?"

"Commander, let's go!" 416 pleads through the radio. "We need to get out of here!"

I close my eyes, I can't do this.

My entire body is refusing.

My eyes swim in place.

This is wrong, I can't leave them here!

"HADWIN." UMP 45 snarls through the radio. "MOVE."

I jerk, my eyes opening up. "S-sorry." I whisper, and run for the exit. My brain feels like it's coated in oil, black and slimy.

416 reaches out, grabs me and throws me out the side door to the loading dock, the four dolls come tumbling out after me, and they immediately run away from the main road down the alley. 416 is dragging me the way she normally drags G11, and I stare at the warehouse as it gets smaller.

From the far corner of the alley we exited into, I can hear and see men shouting and then a few gunshots in our general direction, but none of them come close. It's about 100 meters and they're using pistols, which is kinda far.

Then, all of a sudden, an explosion rocks Sector 3, and the building's windows shatter outwards. The roof bucks upwards before crumpling inwards, crashing down with the collapsing steel screeching to the heavens.

I wasn't able to look away from the light of the fire for a long, long time.

I think every available police officer ended up called to the scene. Shots fired and a massive explosion, so I'm not really surprised. It took us a half an hour to get home, constantly getting easier with less time spent lurking in alleys and more time on the move as the streets emptied of cops.

I made it home under my own power too, but I'm not exactly aware of my surroundings as I unlock the door carefully and gesture the T-dolls inside. It's only when the light turns on and I come face to face with M4 do I realize that we were expected. Most of the T-dolls are up. The only two I don't see are P90 and Tokarev, and I assume that's because they're in the room with my parents.

"Hadwin, are you okay?" S.A.T. asks, worry plastered on her face.

"...No. I'm really not." I take a breath. "I'm gonna go puke now."

416 looks like she's going to follow me, but thinks better of it after I glare in her general direction. G11 also backs off before I have to do anything.

I head to the bathroom on the first floor and empty my gut. It's been a while since I ate, and nothing comes out but bile.

I heave a few more times. Shuddering in revulsion.

I let them die.

I didn't have a choice, but… I let them die.

That cracked voice, reaching out to me for help, rings in my ears.

My stomach tries to exit through my throat once again.

By the time I come back up for air, I realize I'm not alone. RO635 stands in the doorway.

"What do you want?" I ask, hostility at myself redirecting to the T-doll with a white strip in her hair.

"I'm making sure you're okay." She says, softly. "Team 404 filled me in."

"Do I look okay?" I almost heave again, but I manage to keep it down.

"This is what I-"

"Yeah, yeah." I dismiss her. "You warned me, I know that. I know what I signed up for, but I just… wasn't prepared." I realize as I say it that that's a contradiction, but I'm tired.

So tired.

She leans on the frame of the door and crosses her arms.

"I figured I'd see some messed up stuff." I continue. "But… he called out to me." I drop my head into my hands. "And I just…"

"Well, you didn't have a choice." RO635 says. "And, it's probably not much of a comfort, but you probably saved more people than you killed by heading out there."

I give her a look.

She continues unfazed. "That was a trap. According to Miss 45, it was a trap designed to kill whoever came to rescue them, and they were planning on blowing it up regardless. You not only didn't get caught in the trap, but you saved those that would have gotten caught in it. There were other teams being prepared."

"That's a stupid way to look at it." I growl.

"It's the way you need to look at it. You can't save everyone. You may not be able to save anyone."

I stare into the bile coated depths of the toilet. "Your pep talk sucks."

"You may not be able to save anyone." She repeats. "At least not directly." She steps up to me. "I contacted G&K, and they told me they got the ransom note telling them of the situation right after you left. I can't break into 404's network like they can do to ours, so I wasn't able to warn you. M4's probably bringing that up with them now."

"So?"

"If you weren't already going, we'd probably have sent someone else out, and… well, Sop's not exactly cautious. Miss 45 told me the place was trapped. There's a good chance we wouldn't have noticed the trap in time."

"...Oh."

"If nothing else, you saved M4, Sop, AR-15, and me. Even if we survived the blast, can you imagine what would happen if a broken but mostly intact T-doll with a gun was found in that mess? Specifically, ones that entered the city the night before. The whole city would be up in arms over us, and Paradeus might be able to use the confusion to seize power."

I shudder again as I think back to that room of disassembled Doll bits. Those are a lot less likely to be identified as a combatant. "I see."

"It doesn't feel like it. It'll never feel like it, but you didn't screw up." She crouches down next to me, her two different colored eyes locked to mine. "You did your best, and far more than any cook should ever have to."

"...I understand." I say, but the words sound hollow to my own ears. "Thanks." That sounded more genuine, hopefully.

"I told you earlier that tonight was past the point of no return. In several ways, it was. However, If you want to get out, this is your real last chance. I'll tell everyone you're unfit for duty."

"I understand." I repeat. "I'm sorry."

"Clean yourself up. We'll discuss this later." She orders. "This isn't over."

...Is she angry?

She leaves before I can determine that or what she's angry about, and I turn my attention to cleaning myself up.

I feel a little better after brushing my teeth, gargling mouthwash a few times, and washing my face. Then, I go ahead and give the bathroom a quick clean to make sure there's not a trace of the bile left; the sink is clean, the toilet is flushed and wiped down, and the vent fan is on to get rid of the smell. Lastly, I change into a new set of clothes in my room, stashing the tac vest and my gun. For a moment, I consider lying down and trying to get a little bit of sleep, but… I don't want to have dreams. Besides, the room is full of guns, armor, and other bits of combat gear that will make it hard to sleep.

Instead I head back downstairs and find the living room is currently occupied with ten T-dolls, most of them arrayed to watch the TV on one wall. Only P90 and Tokarev are missing, as noted earlier.

The news is showing the warehouse on fire, ambulances and police cars strewn about, a reporter talking. Strangely, all of the armored vehicles are gone. Those must have been moved to avoid having them on camera. It'd be bad press. The TV's muted and I can't read lips, but I can read the ticker along the bottom of the screen.

"Another terrorist attack?"

"Seven dead."

"Four more hospitalized."

In the corner, UMP 45, 9, and RO635 are sitting around the datapad 9 found. They're all touching it, but none of them are looking at it. Probably doing some hacking thing. Funny, I didn't realize RO635 was a hacker, but I can't think of why else she'd be working with 9 and UMP 45 in this case.

G11 is asleep, 416 holding her. 416 is staring at the broadcast with a blank face. Occasionally, her eye twitches and she reaches for a rifle that isn't there.

Sop is pacing in the small space, her face locked in a snarl, and her claw opening and closing menacingly. She looks like she's ready to head out and start ripping anything she gets her claws on.

AR-15 also stares at the screen, her face blank, perfectly still.

M4, SV-98 and S.A.T. notice me as I walk in.

"Commander." M4 looks up at me. "You should go to sleep."

"Not going to be able to." I say, my voice is several shades more hostile than I intended. I take another breath to try to calm down. "...What's next?"

S.A.T. stands up. "I'm going to make something to eat. Do you want anything?" She asks.

"No thanks." I can taste bile again. "I'm… not hungry."

"Commander, you really need to rest." SV-98 says. "Or eat, or something. You look like death."

"If-" I cut myself off and try to smooth out my voice. She's just worried, don't bite her head off. "If I try to sleep, I'm just going to see all this again in my dreams. I can't handle that right now."

"Oh." She frowns. "Well… sit here, then."

I sit next to her on the couch, right across from M4.

SV-98 leans in and rests her head on my shoulder. It's a comforting gesture, and I feel myself relax, just a little bit.

M4 looks me in the eye and I maintain the stare. "We're going after them."

"No shit." I snarl. "Tell me what I don't know." Oops. I yelled again. I force myself to calm down. Think about something else.

"Once those three break the encryption..." M4 blinks and goes quiet for a second before shaking her head. "Once we break it, we'll see if we can get a location off the new T-doll disassembly location, if it exists." She eyes the other T-dolls paying attention to the TV, and taps her throat.

I don't have the radio on at the moment, and actually, I left it upstairs. I shake my head.

She hesitates. "Well, once we have a location, we're going to hit it, and hard."

"Okay." I clasp my hands together to stop the shaking I just noticed. "What's Commander Gentiane going to be doing?"

"Protecting MP Panagos." She shakes her head. "They can't afford to get wrapped up in this right now."

"So it's up to us? Fucking politics." I growl.

"I agree." She looks back at the TV. "Look, we need to wait until tomorrow night at the earliest. We can't afford to have our faces on TV right now, and shooting up anything is going to put us in the news."

"So, tomorrow we just have to lay low?" I ask.

"Yes." M4A1 nods. "Pretend everything is normal."

"I don't even know what normal is anymore." I mutter.

"Got it!" 9 suddenly snaps awake, RO635 and UMP 45 blinking awake moments after.

UMP 45 gets up and stretches. "9, grab everything you can. I'm going to discuss strategy with Hadwin and M4."

"Ja~" UMP 9 sighs, sounding exhausted. "I'll be here, doing all the work. As usual."

UMP 45 and RO635 come over and stand so there's a dead space in front of the five of us.

They're all staring at the same point in space as well and I follow their gazes to find… nothing.

"...We need to get Hadwin a linker." RO635 grunts, noticing my confusion. "It's so much faster."

"Right, he can't see this." UMP 45 says. "Hadwin, we're looking at a map of the city. Just… try to follow along."

"Okay."

M4 seems to pause for a second. "Just to be clear, this is what we're going to try to achieve. We're going to shut down their Doll smuggling operations and stop Paradeus from entering this city with their forces."

Nods all around.

"We have evidence that seems to suggest the Mayor, Ellis Mavros, is cooperating with Paradeus. Furthermore, Paradeus is helping bring in deactivated Dolls for disassembly or other uses, and a section of the police force is complicit and corrupt. Not sure how deep it goes."

SV-98 raises her hand. "What are we going to do about it?"

"For now, we don't have a location." M4 states. "And honestly, the only real thing we can do is blow up whatever we find-" I shudder again. "-or inform the media once we have a good handle on everything and hope we can provide enough evidence that the public believes it."

"In the meantime," UMP 45 interjects. "I'm going to whip up some propaganda and start posting it around. If we can get people to distrust the Mayor before we expose that he backed both of the recent terrorist attacks, they're more likely to accept it. It's going to be a bit harder than usual since I only have about two hours until dawn and the early news cycle, and also since I only have a day to do everything I want to do." Despite her complaining, she has a glint in her eye.

Or maybe it's just the backlighting her eye has.

"...I suppose you're going to use his, uh…" I start, trailing off as I lose the words to tiredness.

"Doll fetish?" UMP 9 provides from the corner.

"That. You're going to use that to smear his name?" I ask.

"Among other things." UMP 45 shrugs. "The news is going to be wild tomorrow, what with another terrorist attack, the Mayor being made out to be violating the anti-robot codes, the police force knowingly letting some terrorists in… yes, I might just ask your parents to record it." UMP 45 turns back to me. "As for you..."

"Yes?"

"You have to act like nothing happened."

"...Come again?" Just like what M4 said.

"If the media learned that a PMC was involved in this, or, IOP forbid, your parents found out you snuck out and blew up a building again, there's going to be hell to pay. So, you have to act normally. Take 416 out on that date you promised her or AR-15 or whoever. Chat with your family, do whatever it is you do on holidays and save it all for tomorrow night." She gives me a look. "You… don't usually blow up buildings on your days off, right? That would attract too much attention. Normally I'd consider that a joke, but I know you've been in more explosions than the number of days I've known you."

"Blowing up buildings and being near buildings that explode is new." I say, shrinking into myself as memories of the past hours rear their ugly heads. "It's not something I like…"

My words trail off as I notice what's on the screen of the TV. A big, burly man that the ticker labels as "Sergeant Baros."

The TV is unmuted by someone, I don't know who.

"-regret that we were unable to move in in time, we only received notice around fifteen minutes-"

That voice belongs to Sarge.

My anger towards myself suddenly vanishes, to be replaced with a new target. Sergeant Baros. One of the men who perpetrated this mess.

I don't register much more of his lies before the camera cuts to another officer, sitting on the side of the road.

"I can't believe someone would do this!" He says, his voice also familiar. "All those people died, because we weren't fast enough to stop them."

"Andre." I say aloud. The man we tied up with zip ties, caught arming bricks of C4.

They're acting like it was someone else's fault. Like, it's a tragedy, when they did it themselves.

As I continue to watch, I see more recognizable faces. Doug, in the ambulance, being treated for a concussion. Yiannis starts talking about ghosts, and his friend tells him to shut up.

They're okay. They're getting medical attention.

In the background, firefighters are pulling charred remains out of the building.

Those people died, and their killers are currently crying on camera over how sad it is.

Unforgivable. I can feel my hands balling into fists. I want to head right back there, maybe bring Sop and 416 and start raining down hellfire on them for-

"Hey, Hadwin?"

I turn around abruptly to see Dad standing at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "What's going on?" He asks.

Behind him, P90 and Tokarev follow him down the stairs. They glance at me, nod and then school their faces. Looking around, the rest of the T-dolls (minus G11, she's asleep) have changed their expressions to be worried, but not murderous. Even Sop, somehow. None of them seem to be speaking up though.

I close my eyes and force myself to be calm. Deep breath. Deeeeeeep breath. "Did you hear that explosion earlier?" I ask.

"Yes, I did. Woke your mother and I up, but P90 assured me that we weren't in danger." He glances back at the brown haired doll who nods her head. "Is that what's on the news?"

"Uh-huh. Looks like it's another terrorist attack." I say evenly.

The T-dolls around me stay quiet as I talk back and forth with my sleepy parent.

"Oh, man. Sector 3 isn't feeling as safe as it used to." He sighs. "I hope that those responsible are brought to justice."

"I wouldn't worry about that." I say, staring at the somber face of Sergeant Baros. "It's probably just a matter of time."