I'd been assigned a mission. I couldn't tell you by whom, that's confidential. But I can give you its parameters.
Search, infiltrate and destroy.
They're always the same three steps. They keep it simple, not because I'm dense, but because I'm damn good at my job and I don't need to be told.
It was in New Chicago, it changes every time I have the misfortune to visit. They tell me it used to be a beautiful place, maybe so, but after the accident at the end of the last century I couldn't say there was much proof.
What happened? All I know is that one mother fucking hell hole opened and swallowed the whole city; people, cars, buildings and every last stinking cockroach. There were lots of conspiracy theories, terrorism mainly, but I have my own theories. Needless to say was what built in its place was far from a utopia.
With a city like New Chicago, as it is, comes the low-life scum that I have to clean up. Those that have taken advantage of the situation, gone further than the authorities can tolerate.
So my assignment, Rick Menshikov; a dealer in body-suits. He specialised in ex-military--mainly Soviet Sector, so heavy build, but none of your pretty boys. You see the city has become a place for people to hide. It was dangerous as hell, so Menshikov sold suits. It means you could hide, and protect yourself. But there'd been problems, the suits were faulty. They were turning up at morgues with their occupants fried.
The solution you may think would be simple, take out Menshikov and stop the supply. Wrong! Although he's a powerful man in the district, his supplier would just push in another direction. They didn't care their suits were killing people, meant there'd be no creeps bitching about the two week charging cycle. That's why I'd proposed to take down their whole framework. My superiors knew better than argue with me, and signed off the mission plus expenses.
