“You had a phone in high school? Damn, we got people from money.” Yekaterina joked as she skimmed the dossier Bethan found, “Heard drivers back home calling MANs ‘Dead dogs’ because of the logo. Their engine lineup apparently leaves a lot to be desired in the power and torque department.” She snickered, handing the dossier back and the map to Bethan riding shotgun, her latest input making Yekaterina pause. “Not an axe, better. For this situation at least. Good thing you mentioned it. I don’t know how that slipped my mind, let’s blame imperialism like we usually do.” The engine started easy enough, though her enthusiasm for the car was tempered by the realization that the air conditioning wasn’t working. And after a few minutes, she didn’t have much good to say about the seats either.

Yekaterina was mostly silent during the drive save for the occasional cursing directed at the locals and their liberal interpretation of traffic laws, Hayden explaining the slum’s inner workings as they went. “So on top of the driver, his buddies and locals sticking their noses where they don’t belong, we might also need to worry about the drug gang this guy might currently be delivering for. Great. And old guns are still guns, doesn’t really matter if it’s from yesterday, the Great Patriotic War, or the Swedish siege of Prague, a hole in your chest is still a hole in your chest,” The Russian added, wondering whether she should keep the car door unlocked in case she needed to get out quickly or locked if someone else wanted to get her out against her will. The fact that cars and corrugated metal shacks were more concealment than cover didn’t help. The shootout between SAMC and COGS drew her attention, and while she made sure to get them far away before some stray rounds found their way to them, a part of her wanted to stop and take notes on what they’d be dealing with in the next few months. Weeks? Years? Who knew? Compared to Chechnya, the fighters here seemed to be on about the same level, though she expected some to be of a higher caliber, and less concerned about staying under the radar. Less work for them. And they wouldn’t have to deal with suicide attacks here. Then she thought about it for a second and decided no to discount that possibility yet.

By the time they’d reached the Bo’lobo slum, she’d deteriorated to wishing unspeakable things upon the people either jaywalking, straight up ignoring road signs, right of way and common sense and driving into intersections without any thought or doubt, recklessly passing or having firefights in the streets and all of their families in her native Russian. Parking the sedan in the first shaded spot she found, she got out to put her bag into the passenger compartment, untangled the halligan from the bag’s other contents and passed the 75 cm, 5 kg hunk of forged steel to Sean, “I hope you went to drama club if you want to be inconspicuous hauling this around. use the pick for breaking windows. A sharp point will work a lot better than a blunt impact. Watch your pockets in the crowds, and don’t lose the hallie when things start moving.” Yekaterina walked around the passenger side as the lads disembarked to talk to Bethan. “I think you and I should swap. I don’t want to bet on the driver’s cooperation, and if we need to scram before an angry mob uses us for floor mats, that’s not a good time for the boys to learn that size does matter. I’d hate to see them smeared over a wall like marmalade because they didn’t realize you have to brake early and use the engine brake before I’ve known them long enough to decide whether that’s a good or bad thing.” Returning Hayden’s parting gesture with a grin, she drew her Gesha for a press check before returning it to its holster, leaving her jacket open for ease of access.