Snippet #2693361

"Damn. Gotthard had been too busy looking around while Hermes was trying to establish a a cover-story to really respond. As much of a shithole as "The Shanty Shack" was, it actually had a door. Walls too, leagues above The Bulwark's Slums office. Somehow that didn't surprise him, really. Even renegade four man squads were better equipped. Hell, homeless people probably had better digs, like some crazy hive-lodging in the sewers or some shit.

"Yeah, real fancy, but did you just fucking say Aschen Spec Ops?"

Ivan's very loud protesting snapped Gotthard back to the situation at hand. "Yeah..", he sort of grunted, tapping just beside the visor of his helmet to cycle through vision modes. "Aschen in a place like this is bad news. Spec Ops is worse, and discharging weapons to not kill somebody is worse still." He moved around in a slow circle as he spoke, coming to a halt and shrugging. "Thermal sweep clear."

Ivan eased his way off the table, rotating his shoulder and staring directly at Dusk. You could see it, but he was glaring.

"You weren't there for the warning, lady, so I'll play nice. Call us puppies again and I will get a warrant for a detailed map of your colon." He shook his left foot a bit, which only made him hiss in pain. "And with the day I'm having I'd be happy to personally ram a camera up your ass." Gotthard just sighed, as amusing as that thought was they were still in danger, a lot of it.

Did either Bulwark soldier give a damn about the Aschen, and whatever their plans were? No. Gotthard was well aware that Aschen Spec Ops could probably easily mask their thermal imprints though.

The last damn thing he wanted was a bolt of green plasma to the temple. "Welp. If the Aschen are setting up shop I say all six of us clock out and let the Invictus handle it?" He turned to Dusk, chuckling a little. "Anybody got a cellphone I can borrow?" Of course he knew the answer. Having personally taken stock of every item Dusk brought into the city.

Twice.