The Barrel

May 24 - Eavesdown Docks

*encryption starts*

To Major Pepper Siamendes, Special Investigations Unit, Alliance Military, Zenobia.

As a famous writer once said, "The reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

By now, I hope that you have had time to find the true terrorist, as I am not the person the Alliance is looking for, and neither is Mikie. I don't know how I can prove my/our innocence, but I am willing to try.

I don't know your position on my situation - only what Brooke has hinted at. I think Brooke overestimates your willingness to let things slide - after all, you are bound by law to do your job.

In any case, I wish to meet with you regarding recent events, and see if we can come to an understanding regarding my situation. I am tired of hiding from injustice.

Respectfully,
M. 'Sentry' Swashbuckler

*encryption ends*

-----

They called this place the Barrel. A fitting name, as in "shooting fish in a...." There was absolutely no cover. A strike team could waltz in the front door and pick off anyone in the room.

Forget guns. Just roll a few concussion grenades down the steps and you would be scraping off the walls for weeks. What a death trap.

My escort and I descended the metal steps.

Brooke was here. Alone. Sipping her drink at the bar.

"Hello Captain," I said with a smile.

She noticed me coming down the steps and gave a little laugh. "Well, hello there," she said turning around and standing up.

We hugged.

Then she looked over at my companion, the one from Special Forces. "Friend of yours?" she whispered quietly. She would have recognized the uniform I'm sure.

"This is Soara," I introduced him, "Yes, he's one of mine."

"Name's Soara," said Soara with a smile.

Brooke gave him a nod. "It's a pleasure, sir, I'm sure. Captain Brooke."

She turned to me and added, "I have things to tell ya. And questions."

"Okay let's sit," I replied.

"I'll, uh...hang here case you need me," said Soara. He parked himself at the bar with a good view of the entrance. At the first sign of trouble he could duck under the landing. Strike anyone coming down the stairs.

I thanked him.

"I won't shoot my old roommate," Brooke joked as she looked at me with a smile, "who else would I blackmail?"

Brooke and I settled at a table near a Chinese screen and to the closest thing this structure had to a corner.

If there was trouble, Brooke and I could duck behind the corner. From there we could offer suppressing fire while Soara held the stairs and put pressure on the entrance. The three of us could perhaps hold the room until some sort of reinforcement appeared. What a dismal scenario.

Brooke began, "Does the name Chance Gott mean anything to you?"

"Chance... no, can't say it does. Who's that then?"

"I didn't either," she added, "not until a few months ago. So, remember you used to call me spoiled brat for being an only child ? Apparently I wasn't ... well I was at the time ... Anyway. Chance was my half brother. He died when I was about six."

"I'm sorry," I replied. I had two older brothers. The second oldest, Hector, had died during the war.

"Hard to really mourn someone you never knew..." She sighed a bit. "Anyway.... he was a slave trader, murdered. Though according to the local papers of the time, it was an accident."

"Half brother through mom or dad?"

"My mom .... she apparently had a kid before my parents were married."

I nodded, "How did you find out?"

"What matters, is I'm finding out some interesting information." She blushed a bit. "Two things. One ... he had apparently between five to eight children. I'm not 100% sure. Either way, I'm trying to find out more information about where they might have been taken. I have found a few."

"Eight children! Wow, suddenly a big family."

Brooke shook her head. "No no .... they weren't his. They were kidnapped .... for some sort of experiments."

The room grew cold.

"Experiments... by whom?"

"Not sure. The oldest I found was 13, and she isn't sure. Just that they were sometimes painful." She sighed. "But there's one more thing I learned." She leaned in and whispered quietly, "It was being financed from somewhere within the Alliance."

I listened carefully, "So how long ago was this? You were six when he died."

"Twenty years...give or take a year," she said with a smile.

"And these people were children at that time."

She nodded. "All are adults now of course..... I've met two. They were both taken from their homes. Different worlds..."

"The trail may be a bit cold," I said, "but we can work with it. We will need detailed statements."

"Anything you can find out. I .... want to know what happened. Also, I can give you another name to look into if you don't mind. Magnus Verrazzano."

I took note of the name.

Brooke went on to address my remark. "I can give you some what of a statement, not sure how detailed. You know most people get a bit fussy around here when I give you 'detailed statements' Pepper."

"No problem," I replied, "I'm on the outs with the general public these days."

I continued, "That source of yours, by the way, that had information on the missing persons from Shadow, still has not been in touch."

"Funny ..." she said frowning. "I'll see if I can get ahold of him. I hope nothing has happened to him."

"You said you had questions?" I asked.

"I wanted to know ... your investigation ... about Tee .... the Faiths ... I learned today they are missing from Al Raqis all together ....I just .... want to know."

"Yes. It seems that after Doctor Wirefly was killed, William went into hiding, Lord Ascott closed up the estates on Al Raqis, and Judge Wirefly went missing."

"Went missing and probably dead? Or went missing and probably living off the blood of one of my crew?" she asked trying not to put too much anger in her voice.

"There is no evidence that they are dead," I said. More likely they were on the run.

"I thought there was an explosion..."

"On Al Raqis? Yes, that was just Tillery and William showing off."

I assumed she meant the series of explosions in Al Raqis earlier in the year - the Cortex offices, the Faith warehouse - rather than the recent trouble at the refinery.

"I mean ... oh," she said then shook her head. "Never mind." She sighed a bit. "I just .... am worried. Is Till alright? He's a reporter after all."

"He is mad at me... but yes, he is healthy."

Brooke raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, my murder suspect is a friend of his."

Brooke tilted her head. "Mind telling me who your suspect is?"

At the same time, I asked a question of my own, "So who is this Magnus?"

She answered my question, "Magnus apparently was involved in the slave trade around the same time. He says he saw the aftermath of my brother's crime. But I'm pretty sure he's lying. Things don't add up. He was hit with some sort of bomb so ... well I can't say he's pretty to look at."

I nodded, "Where does he frequent?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, "I met him in a place called the Wasteland. Rim of the Rim really."

"I'll see what information I can get you about him."

We stood up and prepared to leave the bar.

Brooke reached over and squeezed my arm.

"Another thing..." I added, "My team has been given the green light from Central Government to reopen the Aberdeen bombing case."

Brooke frowned, "The ... Shadow bombing?"

"No," I corrected, "the bombing on Londinium."

I took a breath. Time for trust.

"Tell him... he can come home soon," I said cryptically.

"Who do you mean?" she asked.

I leaned in close to her ear and whispered a name, "Matthew."

She blinked a bit then smiled. "I'm afraid I don't know Matthew very well, but I'll give him the message if I see him."

I returned the smile. "Good. I better get going. Stay safe."

"You as well."

Soara looked over as we drew close. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Let's go soldier," I replied.

As we mounted the stairs, Brooke called out from near the bar, "And Pepper, you ever want to wear a different color...."

I did not have a reply for her. She was my oldest, dearest friend and it was hard for us being on two sides of the political divide in our fractured post-war world. She wanted to see me in brown. I wanted to see her back in purple.

It was our dance it seemed.

When we had reached street level, my escort from Special Forces turned to me once again.

"Well," he said with a smile, "that was...just relaxing."