(Edited so Kat doesn't have a small army with her)
[b]Kat[/b]
6.20 PM Outside the Spit

I've been contacting and coordinating the assault during the flight over, calling in favors with the police to set up a surreptitious guard around the entire city block, all of them able to prevent people from escaping on foot. Unfortunately, this isn't my district, and the police don't like me anyways, so they're loathe to do much to help me. All I've gotten is to have the airspace  cleared of all hovercars. I had requested at least 10 riot police, but they laughed at me, and said I was being ridiculous for wanting to take that many people with me on a single raid. I had been shooting a little high, but I could work with what they gave me. Two police to go in with me, both of them rookies. They'd be little more than useless in a firefight, so I'm going to have to be a bit more strategic about this than I would like. Mawali shouldn't be expecting this, but you don't become one of the largest drug lords in Beta district without being paranoid. He'll have a contingent of bodyguards with him, all of them watching the cage matches.
As my quad descends, I hop out early, booted feet hitting the ground.
I see the lone police vehicle idling across the street, with the pedestrians clearing a wide circle around them. People don't trust the police much in places like this. 
Sighing, I cross the street to where the two rookies are. They don't see me coming, and are focused on playing a card game on the dashboard. 
Knocking on the window, the two rookies jump in their seats and scramble out of the car, awkwardly straightening up in the street while I wait patently, a pained smile etched onto my face.
Both of them are young, with patchy facial hair and their hair shaved to exactly the length protocol recommends. I'm guessing they grew up here in one of the nicer habitation stacks, and were taught to believe that the police were the biggest, scariest gang in New Ancora. I like to think that's true sometimes. 
"Uuh, I, hullo officer Wythburn?" 
"At ease, boys, I'm not going to bite your head off."
"Uh, I know you asked for the riot police, but see, they're all busy wi-"
"I know the excuses they gave me. Still, whether or not they forced you to come with me tonight, or you volunteered, I appreciate that you'll be working with me tonight."
They glance at one another, the taller one scratching nervously at his curly blonde goatee, while the shorter one just looks down at his shoes.
"Listen, boys. I know the types of sims you're familiar with,"
The short one pales when he hears what I say, and is about to stammer something, and then realizes that I'm talking about training sims.
"And I can tell you that this will be nothing like that. All I need you to do for right now is to wait in the car, keep your transponder on, and be ready if I call for you. I'll be calling for you either for backup in a firefight,"
The taller one seems excited with this possibility.
"Or it'll be because I need you to take the prisoners away."
He deflates softly.
I nod briefly,
"Alright, gentlemen. Wish me luck."
I step away from the car, and walk across the deserted street to the Spit. My hands are shaking, and I shove them into my jacket pockets. I've been in a lot worse situations than this, but my body treats them all the same.
Making sure that my pocked white armor is hidden underneath my coat, I step into the pulsating bar, head low and eyes up, scanning for my target.