Chicago...

I’ve been avoiding this city. When Gabriel asked me to go here, it sent shivers up and down my spine. Straight up, I didn’t want to go. Not for nothing. I hate this city. Because I once loved it.

It was almost home.

It is where my Da died.

It is where I committed my first two murders.

I came back to commit two more.

This wasn’t a paid job. Like eight others before it, this was personal business.

It was time to visit the Italian, Lambargo and the Irishman, O’Donnell. I'd been planning to pay a little visit to both for some time, but with the price on my head thanks to them, the time came to move the schedule up a bit.

The Irishman was easy. I intercepted his date for the evening and gave her the night off. Unarmed, it was easy to get past the guards. Since he had a peculiar interest in erotic asphyxiation, his guards didn’t come running when things ‘went to far.’ They didn’t even get up to check on him when I left. That’s what you get for hiring loafers.

Uncle Tony had no such perversion to take advantage of. Nor was he one for hiring working girls. He was surprisingly loyal to his wife and one mistress. He did have one habit I could exploit. Every Friday night, he ordered the same pizza from the same joint.

So I intercepted the delivery boy and gave him the night off.

I’m not really good at looking like a boy. My relatively flat chest (gymnastics, don’t you know) and being quite tall for a woman helps. But I think my face is just too damn ‘girly’. My ole Da said was the pixie blood in my veins showing through. Still, I can get close enough to be a ‘pretty boy’ or where people say, “that guys looks like a chick”.

Only one guard met me in the lobby of the exclusive building. First he frisked me. Did a professional job of it and of course didn’t find anything. That’s because I wasn’t packing. He tried a slice of the pizza and liked it. Then he escorted me to the penthouse elevator. Once inside, he punched in the security code and we were quickly moving to the top floor.

“Does this smell like chloroform?” I asked him, shoving a wetted rag into face when he turned around.

He went down like a bag of bricks and I relieved him of his sidearm, attaching the silencer he also had on him. Why risk bringing a weapon when they were going to provide me with one that couldn’t traced to me? While I didn’t expect to need it, I took his spare ammo as well.

When the elevator door opened, I calmly stepped through and shot the two very surprised guards.

Three down. That meant the forth was with the boss.

I went directly to the kitchen where he’d be waiting. I knew my way around.

Two shots, center of mass dropped the guard. Being no fool, the Italian turned and ran.

Two shots in the back and he dropped to the ground, crippled and bleeding.

I took my time getting to him, pausing at the guard to end his pain.

Tony managed to roll over in time to look up at me. “You’re dead! DEAD! Do you f***ing know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are, Uncle Tony.” I pulled the Delivery cap off my head and let my hair down. “I used to sit on your knee and play pony girl. Don’t you remember?”

He gaped at me as recognition finally penetrated his fear raddled brain. “D-Darcy? So it’s true then… you are gunning for us all.”

I leaned down and grabbed him by the lapels. “You f***ing put a price on my head without f***ing knowing for sure?”

He grimaced, “seemed like a good bet at the time.”

“How’s that working out for you?” I sneered into his face.

“Not so hot,” he coughed up a bit of blood. “Look, come on lil’Cee, that s**t with your father was just business. You know that, right?”

The back of his head bounced off the floor from the force of my slap. “You were my f***ing uncle and you sold out your friend and my father for g**-d***ed thirty mother f***ing pieces of silver. You f***ing call me lil’Cee again and I’ll gut you like a f***ing pig right here.”

“Look Darcy. It ain’t too late. We can put this all behind us.” Panic was rising in his voice and tears were starting to leak from his eyes. “P-please… don’t do this to me. I got kids…”

“Yeah. I dated your oldest. He was my first too. Treated me decent. Almost makes me feel bad about this.” I let hope build in his face before I added, “almost.”

Now he really started to blubber, “Come on lil… Darcy. Please! I’ll give you anything. ANYTHING! Just let me live!”

“Anything? Tell me, did my Da grovel before you guys did him?”

“I didn’t pull the trigger!” More blood was coughed up, “ya gotta believe me!”

“I could smell the stink of your cigar when I got back, Tony.” I used to love the smell of Uncle Tony’s stogies. Now I can’t stand the smell of cigars. “Now answer my f***king question. Did my Da grovel? Did he beg for his life before you all killed him?”

“N-no,” there was the honesty of a man who knows he is about to die in his eyes. “It was quick. He had hardly time to know it was coming.”

“Well, at least it was quick.” I stood up and levelled my pistol at his head. “One good turn deserves another.”

He closed his eyes. Acceptance washing over his face. The pain would end.

I lowered the pistol, “there’s just one thing though.”

His eyes opened again.

“My pain hasn’t ended so fast.”

And then I left.

His body was found by his wife when she returned from a shopping trip in Paris the next morning.

I thought I might get away scot free. That is until I stepped back into the elevator and into the nozzle of a silencer.

It wasn’t the guard I had chloroformed. I had dragged him into the foyer of the penthouse and then put one in his head.

“Hello Darcy. I was just at O’Donnell’s so I reckoned I’d run into you here.” He was Irish and the way he rolled his R’s had always made me shiver.

“Hiya Frankie. You going to shoot me in the face, or what?” He did have the drop on me, after all.

Slowly he lowered the pistol and smiled. “If I was going to do that darling, you’d never have had a chance to ask that. Now you going to give us a hug or what?”

Of course I hugged him. He had also been one of my Da’s friends and so far as I could tell, one of the only ones that had nothing to do with his death.

His strong arms embraced me as they had many times during my teens. I couldn’t help myself. I started to bawl.

“Shhh, darling,” he murmured into my ear. I could feel his head look past me. “You’ve done left quite a mess here. We need ta get going.”

I nodded against his strong chest. I couldn’t help myself from inhaling his manly musk. I was young when I last saw him. In many ways, I was much older now.

He gave me time to compose myself and then punched the button to go down. “Yer hellava mess, darlin’.”

“It’s not everyday a girl kills an uncle.” I said unsteadily.

“Is that who I heard moaning up there?” He asked but already knew the answer. “You’re hellava pissed, darlin’. That ain’t ta way yer ole man done taught ya.”

“He also taught me that I could trust Uncle Tony. That didn’t work out so hot for him.” I was still leaned up against him for support. I needed to be close to someone right then. I had considered calling Sebastian, but…

“He taught that ya could trust me, too.” He murmured into my ear.

I looked up at him, “can I?”

Frankie looked hurt I could even ask the question. “Where’s yer head at girl? O’ course you can.”

“Good.” I murmured as I hugged him again.

Then the elevator doors opened and we were just a mob bodyguard escorting a pizza delivery guy outside.

He escorted me right to his car. It was sleek. He’d been making good money. I hoped I could trust him. Hitman rarely made the kind of money to be driving the sort of car he had. Especially when you reckon he’d have it modified the same way I had mine.

“I’m glad I caught up to ya first, Darcy, my lass.” He put the car into gear and sped away. “Yer inna heap o’trouble.”

“I know, Frankie.” I looked out the window at the city as it sped past. “I know.”

“It ain’t all bad, darlin’,” he said in a soothing tone. “Actually, yer making friends ya don’t even know about. Paving da way fer promotions all ‘round, you are. Should be easy enough to take you inta the fold.”

“Back into the fold?” I asked as my heart jumped into my chest. So many conflicting emotions.

“You’ve been noticed darlin’. Word is, yer good. Damn good.” Then he winked at me, “and that other stuff you been dealing with? The spooks and what not? It’s raised some eyebrows but not in the way ya might think. The feds got their dark rooms and their DR1313’s and sure enough we know about it. Them things don’t care what side of the law yer on. Nope. They’ll get up in yer face as sure as not. We don’t talk about it much of course, but we got those that do ‘Dark Dealings’. Sort of thing might be right up your alley.”

This was all so much, so fast.

“Ya don’t have ta make any decisions right this instant, darling.” He drawled, “how about we go back to my place and catch up a bit.”

I smiled like a Cheshire cat, “that sounds nice, Frankie.”

He had a penthouse and it was posh, “nice place you got here, Frankie.” There was a note of suspicion in my voice now, “the O’Donnell’s have been treating you right. You the sub-boss yet?”

The Cheshire cat had nothing on Frankie, “I am after tonight, thanks to you.”

Everything clicked into place, “so is there still going to be a price on my head?”

He shook his head, “Naw. I’ve been talking to with the new boss. Aside from the fact that he’s grateful to you, we know what the score is. They done you and your Da bad and they got what was coming. Score card settled so far as we’re concerned. Pretty sure the new Lambargo boss feels the same way.”

“What about my Da’s old friends back in the old country?” it was still too early to get optimistic.

“That’s between you and them,” he shrugged. “Peace and negotiation have replaced the old ways. They ain’t got much of a footprint even in their own stomping grounds. They’re all underground and limited to what they can do. Between you and me, I think the guy there you’re looking for is being considered a liability. He’s drawing too much attention where they don’t want it just to protect his own a**. Take him down, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“You better not be blowing smoke up my a**,” could the end game really be that easy?

He poured us both some scotch and then settled into a plush couch, “no smoke and mirrors here darling. Just business between friends.”

I reclined next to him, “so one’s left in Ireland. That just leaves the trigger.”

“Miami,” he stated simply. To my questioning look, he elaborated, “I was thinking of doing him in myself but I wouldn’t want to deprive an old friend of any pleasure.”

Setting my scotch untouched on the coffee table, I leaned into him. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, Frankie.”

There were plenty of distractions to be had on this caper, Mr. Caliburn. One in particular has been bothering me quite a bit. Something I have to deal with now, I think.

I think the choice I made may surprise some and relieve others.

For the most part, the rest of my visit with Frankie was entirely social. But he brought up business again, as I knew he must, over brunch.

“I know ya got yer own business to settle darling.” He said as he spread cream cheese over a cinnamon bagel. “But after that, I’m going to need an answer.”

He was referring to the offer he had made earlier. To be welcomed back into the fold. To join him as a hit man in his employ.

A damn fine offer. There would be restrictions, sure. But there would also be safety and security. There would be support and friends. I would be part of the family. The strings would hardly be noticeable.

Just as significant is what was left unsaid. I’ll spell it out for you. Frankie was offering me a position within the outfit. I would be an associate with the ability to perhaps become a made ‘man’. All past sins forgiven. But there really are some offers you can’t refuse. Or at least you’re not supposed to.

At the time I only nodded although even then I was pretty sure what my answer was going to be.

Then I popped out with the other reason for my return to Chicago, "Do you know where Da is buried, Frankie? After he died... I just bugged out."

The bagel didn't quite make it to his lips. He seemed frozen as he stared at me. "I suppose that explains why I didn't see ya at the funeral," he set the bagel down before continuing. "I took care of all the arrangements, darling. Some of our old comrads in the old country may have forgotten but I remember what he sacrificed in the name of the cause. A proper burial was the very least I could do fer him."

It was all I could do not to start bawling again, "can you take me there, please?"

He reached across the table to lay a hand over mine, "o'course, darling. After we're done eating, we'll go there straight away."

It was a nice place where my Da lay. He would have liked it, I think. I put some yellow roses down before I started talking. I told him everything I had been up to the last few years since his death. Some of the things I knew he'd be proud of. Some of them, maybe not so much. But I told him all of it.

Frankie stood back a respectful distance and let me have my time with my Da. When I stood up, ready to go, he came up and put an arm around my shoulders, "don't ya worry none, Sean. I'll take care of your little girl here. Whatever her fates going ta be, I'll be there to see to it she's taken care of, good and proper. Like I always promised I would."

We parted ways after that. I had a long drive ahead of me again. And lots of time to think about Frankie's offer. I owe him so much. And I'm thankful for all he's done for me.

I know you’re reading this Frankie, and I’m sorry but the answer is no. I know you said you’d let me finish up my business before I have to make my answer and I know you’re a man of your word. I am going to finish that business up and I thank you for the time you’ve allowed me to do so.

I am sorry, Frankie. Next time we meet, one of us ain’t walking away.

Nothing personal, just business.

I can't be the only person who has a problem with this.

First of all, Nemesis tells us that she came to commit a couple of murders... and then commits six. It's like the four guards don't even register as human beings to her. And that's not even mentioning the guard she disabled and then killed.

While I don't mourn the passing of a couple of Mafia elites and their guards, that doesn't mean I approve of their wanton slaughter, either.

There is such a thing as the law. Hand in hand with the law is justice. Neither have been served here.

Nor is this the end of this nonsense. The new bosses may not want to come after Nemesis because of their new positions but what of the families of the men she murdered this past Friday? That's why she was there in the first place, right? To avenge the death of her father, a hitman. Sooner or later, someone is going to come gunning for her again along with anyone who gets in the way.

Then there's this Frankie character. There is no honor among theives. If he can't control Nemesis, he'll kill her. Even if he may not want to, he has a boss to answer to. He has a 'rep' to maintain.

This cycle of violence won't end here.

Don't even get me started on Brutal.

What's it going to take before someone tries to bring these criminals to justice? Or do they get a free pass because they're currently helping out?

Clearly I am just as guilty of complacency as everyone else here. There are only so many moral compromises I'm willing to make, however.

I liked Techno - lets hope that Brutal rescued him.

All he had to do was let the thug shoot him, confirm the kill, and bug out. The fact that he didn't leaves me hope that Techo is alive and healing up somewhere.

Otherwise, something like this would make me stop dealings with everyone involved. At what point do we become a liability? At what point do we get paid with a bullet for out labours by someone that many consider one of us?

Cybermancer wrote:I can't be the only person who has a problem with this.

Probably not.

Cybermancer wrote:First of all, Nemesis tells us that she came to commit a couple of murders... and then commits six. It's like the four guards don't even register as human beings to her. And that's not even mentioning the guard she disabled and then killed.

I went to kill two people. I bypassed the guards I could and had no choice about the others. I couldn't risk the unconscious one coming too while I was talking to Tony. Nor did I have time to tie him up and gag him. Or the resources, for that matter. It's all very well for you to second guess me after the fact but I did the best I could with the training, knowledge and resources I had.

Cybermancer wrote:While I don't mourn the passing of a couple of Mafia elites and their guards, that doesn't mean I approve of their wanton slaughter, either.

No one's asking for your approval.

Cybermancer wrote:There is such a thing as the law. Hand in hand with the law is justice. Neither have been served here.

I don't trust the law. Too many crooked cops, judges, lawyers and all the rest for my taste. Nor do I have any desire to serve time. Any deal with the law would require this.

Cybermancer wrote:Nor is this the end of this nonsense. The new bosses may not want to come after Nemesis because of their new positions but what of the families of the men she murdered this past Friday? That's why she was there in the first place, right? To avenge the death of her father, a hitman. Sooner or later, someone is going to come gunning for her again along with anyone who gets in the way.

Well, I could kill the families. That would end the cycle. Although realistically, it will end when I die. I don't see you offering any alternatives to that.

Cybermancer wrote:Then there's this Frankie character. There is no honor among theives. If he can't control Nemesis, he'll kill her. Even if he may not want to, he has a boss to answer to. He has a 'rep' to maintain.

He's got to do what he's got to do, same as me.

Cybermancer wrote:This cycle of violence won't end here.

But it will end.

Cybermancer wrote:What's it going to take before someone tries to bring these criminals to justice? Or do they get a free pass because they're currently helping out?

Yeah, I'm vulnerable to the LEO's on this site now. I'm vulnerable because I started being helpful. You going to let that trend continue?

Cybermancer wrote:Clearly I am just as guilty of complacency as everyone else here. There are only so many moral compromises I'm willing to make, however.

You were there when we all crossed over. You were there when we all came back. Why did you give me a free pass then?

Yeah, I've done a lot of bad things. I'm still doing bad things though for different reasons. At the same time, I am trying to change. I'm not going to jail. I'd die first.

So if you have a compromise that doesn't involve jail time or my death, I'm willing to hear it.

Frankly, I think you should go to jail and answer for your crimes. But since you asked for compromise, I'll offer it.

Stop seeking out to kill people. Revenge is not a justification for murder. If you have to defend yourself against someone attacking you, that's one thing. Otherwise, it's not your right to decide who lives and who dies.

Start using proportional force. Killing someone is not the answer to all your problems. Expediant perhaps, morally correct, no.

Finally, redeem yourself. Admitting you've been 'a bad little girl' isn't enough. You've killed people and destroyed families. The blood on your hands isn't going to wash away with water and soap. You want to know one way you can repay the debt you owe? Keep doing what you're doing, hunt monsters. Kill the vermin that stalk humanity. And stop bloody charging for it! You're the one in debt. Start paying it back.

Do all that, and I for one, will leave you alone.

Murder just one more person, and I will bring you to justice myself. You will go to jail.

You've talked the talk.

You going to walk the walk?

Hello everybody!

Sorry this post took so long but typing with broken fingers is a slow
and painful process. I'm back home now and back to my nine to five. As
it is, I used up all my vacation and sick time. If I had been gone any
longer, I wouldn't have a job anymore. As exciting as working for
Nemesis has been for the last couple of months, what with the bat like
demons and mobster goons, I'm really glad to be back to work and
comfortably returned to my mundane life.

That's not to say I won't try to help out when I can but I've really
learned something about the limits of what I can do lately.

So I guess I should relate my story.

As I mentioned before, someone has been following me-or rather several
someone's. Early in March, they tried to grab me and that's when I went
underground. For almost two weeks I managed to evade them. Mostly
because of advice passed on to me by Nemesis when I was first brought on
board. I couldn't risk contacting anyone for help because these goons
were EW savvy. That's how they'd been tracking me to begin with. No
sense risking anyone else's safety.

James Bond I'm not and they did eventually grab me. I did get an S.O.S.
out to Nemesis first but that was it.

Between the drugs and the pain and sleep deprivation, I lost track of
all time. Apparently I was only in their care a few days but it seemed
like an eternity. In that time, I'm not sure how long I was able to hold
out. They wanted to know where Nemesis was. They wanted to know who she
was with and what they could do.

They got pretty specific with their questions.

"Does Nemesis have any special powers?"

"These powers of Hannah's, how do they work?"

"Do you know if Ron Caliburn has any special gifts?"

"Is Nemesis still in contact with Eilonwy Solstice?"

"What kind of magic does Dr. Boggs practice?"

"What is the nature of the relationship between Sebastian and Nemesis?"

"Is Brutal still under contract with Nemesis?"

"Everyone that was here in Chicago with you, fighting that bat-thing,
have they dispersed again or are they still in the area?"

I tried to keep my answers to stuff that were already out in the open on
the boards... but they already knew pretty much all of that. All I was
doing was providing them with some clarification here and there. I tried
to make them believe I wasn't credible by talking about ghosts, faeries
and demons but they didn't seem phased by that at all. As incredible as
it sounds, these gangsters-at least the ones questioning me-were all
believers.

The questions kept coming. So did the pain and mind altering drugs. I
resisted as much as I could. I really did. I tried lying but somehow
they always knew. I don't know how. Despite the success they'd had,
apparently I wasn't coughing up the information fast enough. Probably
because I didn't really know anything. I overheard them talking about
bringing in some sort of independent contractor... a specialist in this
sort of thing.

It's hard to remember. I was fading in and out of consciousness at that
point. I didn't get a good look at this 'specialist', he seemed adept at
keeping to the shadows. I remember the chill I got when he spoke though,
"He's still semi-conscious. Once he's dreaming, then I can take the
information you're paying for."

What was going to happen to me now? I don't have any special powers. If
whoever this was got into my dreams... there'd be nothing more I could
do to protect what I knew. I actually began to wonder if I could maybe
swallow my own tongue.

Next thing I knew, someone was pulling the hood off my head. Nemesis had
promised to help me after I sent out that S.O.S. so naturally I had half
expected to finally see her in the flesh.

Instead I saw Brutal. Suddenly the torture footage I had viewed with him
in it came flooding back to me. "Oh god," I said as his ugly face came
into focus. "Please tell me you're here to save me and not shut me up."
While I was trying somewhat to make light of the situation, either
possibility seemed equally likely at that moment in time.

Most of the questions seemed to involve Nemesis or those somehow related to her on this site. I definitely got the impression they'd been reading the boards. I don't know if all mobsters do, but these ones did.

I got the impression they were gathering information on anyone who might get between them and their target. Based on Nemesis' earlier post, I'm guessing these are the guys involved in 'Dark Dealings'. Except it seems that sometimes those dealings include working with unusual specialists.

They are criminals, after all.

(No offense, Nemesis.)

Brutal doesn't have a sense of humour.

His knife flashed in his hands as he cut my bonds. He flipped over a
table and tossed me roughly over it before turning to engage several
goons that had come running around some crates.

Among them was the specialist.

That's when a hole was blown in the roof. A man dressed in black was
rappelling down, firing into the gathered goons.

Brutal used the distraction to his advantage. He grabbed me by the
collar and half dragged, half carried me towards the nearest door. His
body was always between me and the action. From what little I could see,
the man in black appeared to be targeting the specialist and engaging
the goons only as they got in the way.

"Aren't you going to help him?" I asked Brutal as we closed on the exit
through the smoke.

"No." A man of few words.

"But isn't he here to help? Isn't he one of the good guys?" None of this
was making any sense to me.

"Don't know, don't care," Brutal shrugged, "he ain't with me so he ain't
my problem."

"We have to help him!" it was clear by this point that the interloper
was in over his head. I'm not sure if he realized it though, he was
entirely focused on trying to get the one specialist.

"No," Brutal stated flatly as he opened the door and took a peak to
ensure the way was clear. "We don't."

"I'll pay you!"

He paused, midway through shoving me through the orifice. "You know my
rates."

"Yes!"

He was still immobile, "I require half up front."

What an impossible man! "I'll pay double later!"

"You won't like me if you default." But he was already wheeling around
to re-enter the building. He paused by some crates to toss me behind
them. "Stay there. I'll be back."

I was able to observe the battle from relative safety. I won't lie, a
huge part of me just wanted to run out the door Brutal had just dragged
me back from. It just didn't seem right somehow.

Brutal started attacking the remaining goons with extreme prejudice.
That freed up the stranger in black to engage the specialist.

The stranger had closed to engage the specialist in melee. The stranger
had some strange sword in his hand and assaulted the specialist with a
flurry of blows. But the specialist seemed to bat most of those away as
though they were little more than an annoyance. There was some banter
back and forth between the two. The only part I caught from the stranger
was, "my will is too great to be deceived by your illusions, prankster!"

Despite the speed with which the stranger moved, the specialist got a
good solid hit on him. And I do mean good. The stranger went sailing
up and over several crates. I could hear a very solid thump on the other
side of them.

By this point, Brutal had cleared the area of goons but was out of ammo.
So he drew his own blade and closed with the specialist. Brutal appeared
to tower over this gangster in a black pinstriped suit. Yet his
impressive size and bulk did little to grant him an easy victory.
Finally, the specialist got his hands in Brutal and tossed in flying
into a pile of crates close to me.

Almost immediately he re-emerged with a Blu-Ray Player in each hand. He
tossed each at the specialist, who casually swatted them aside. It was
apparent to me by this point that the specialist was far from human.

"Use the TV's!" I shouted at Brutal.

He glanced at me then bent over to pick up a 32 inch flat screen. Then
he tossed it, extreme Frisbee style at the specialist.

It shattered on impact and knocked the specialist off his feet. Somehow
it seemed as though his legs bent at odd angles as he went down.

By the time he was back on his feet, both the stranger and Brutal were
back in his face.

He was holding his own, laughing and mocking his two assaulters
throughout the exchange. Oddly, despite the number of hits they landed,
his suit never seemed to get damaged.

Finally he seemed to get bored and he grabbed a pallet of X-Box-360's
and tossed it at Brutal and the stranger, forcing them to leap to either
side to avoid being crushed. By the time they picked themselves back up,
the specialist was gone.

The stranger darted off, presumably to pursue the specialist.

Brutal came back to me. As there appeared to be no immediate danger, he
looked me over, setting broken bones and bandaging up my injuries. On
the way out, he picked up the pizza box. "Here's something to eat kid.
Get it into ya."

Nearby was my van. Apparently Nemesis had wanted it returned to me as
part of the contract. I got in and started it up. The radio immediately
started blaring 'Enter Sandman' by Metallica.

I tuck you in, warm within
Keep you free from sin
'Til the sandman he comes

We don't have to be strangers Techno, you can call me Slayer.

And point of fact, you guy's have been talking about me for years.

Slayer wrote:We don't have to be strangers Techno, you can call me Slayer.

And point of fact, you guy's have been talking about me for years.

So you were the one, huh?

Interesting. I'll be watching you.

In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to explain some of the discrephancies found in that thread?

Brutal wrote:Though he did pay quickly enough.

Hmmm. I noticed the double Brutal sized withdrawal from the expense account I set up for you, Technocrat.

Well, I guess it's my fault you were in that situation to begin with. Besides, I was going to give you the balance anyway. So thanks for the help and enjoy what's left of the cash. You more than earned it.

Good luck back at your nine to five. If you ever need anything, just remember.

I owe you one.

Precisely what discrephancies are you speaking of Cyber? The information in those posts seemed accurate to me.

As to the information about my weapon, I will not clarify as it is not something that anyone needs to be concerned about.

As to the woman, I did everything I could, however she seemed to be like catnip for those creatures and there was not much I could do. I assumed her safe after I killed the first one and made sure she was in police custody. By the time I knew she was missing again it was to late for me to do anything to save her.

P.S. I did get the other one to though.

And thank you for the welcome.

I wouldn't know Ron since I have never had it.

Cybermancer wrote:Frankly, I think you should go to jail and answer for your crimes. But since you asked for compromise, I'll offer it.

Stop seeking out to kill people. Revenge is not a justification for murder. If you have to defend yourself against someone attacking you, that's one thing. Otherwise, it's not your right to decide who lives and who dies.

Start using proportional force. Killing someone is not the answer to all your problems. Expediant perhaps, morally correct, no.

Finally, redeem yourself. Admitting you've been 'a bad little girl' isn't enough. You've killed people and destroyed families. The blood on your hands isn't going to wash away with water and soap. You want to know one way you can repay the debt you owe? Keep doing what you're doing, hunt monsters. Kill the vermin that stalk humanity. And stop bloody charging for it! You're the one in debt. Start paying it back.

Do all that, and I for one, will leave you alone.

Murder just one more person, and I will bring you to justice myself. You will go to jail.

You've talked the talk.

You going to walk the walk?

We'll see.