![\"High](\"https:\/\/cdn.pixabay.com\/photo\/2019\/06\/09\/15\/27\/high-tech-4262317_960_720.jpg\")
<\/h1>\n<\/h1>\nCherchez La Femme was the grand dame of the Babylon nightlife scene. The hottest women, the biggest sounds, the friendliest staff, they could all be found here. Celebrities and drug lords, salarymen and self-made men, there was a place for everyone who walked past its double doors.<\/p>\n
Including a washed-up former law enforcement agent named Kayla Fox.<\/p>\n
Once upon a time she ran with the biggest dogs in the LE world. The Special Tasks Section, nominally the premier tactical unit of the Public Security Bureau, in practice an independent company of heartbreakers and lifetakers dedicated to cleaning up the streets of Nova Babylonia. Not only that, she was with Team Black Watch, the elite of the elite, the team the brass called on for the most dangerous and difficult operations. They had extinguished Dark Powers, ended massacres, stopped a three-way war between the New Gods in Riveria.<\/p>\n
And, as thanks, the Black Watch had been suspended.<\/p>\n
That was ten weeks ago. The Office of Professional Standards and Ethics was\u00a0still<\/em> investigating the team\u2019s conduct during the campaign, not that there was anything to investigate. Everyone knew that the STS ran by their own rules. They weren\u2019t unaccountable to the law, not exactly, but with their high operational tempo and the threats they faced, lengthy post-shooting investigations kept them warming benches instead of kicking asses. It was just a farce, a way to placate the brass in the PSB and their patrons among the New Gods while they figured out what the hell to do with Black Watch.<\/p>\n Until then, the men and woman of the Black Watch were supposed to cool their heels.<\/p>\n Not that they\u2019d done any of that. They\u2019d been working in the dark themselves, gathering leverage and actionable intelligence, preparing for the inevitable backlash. The events at the Golden Mile had merely accelerated their timeline, forced them deeper into the shadows. Officially, the PSB still had no idea who had raided the arcology. But the list of potential suspects with the means and motive was a short one, and the Black Watch was at the top.<\/p>\n Neither the PSB nor the STS would want to out and out declare the Black Watch as rogues. It would undermine public faith in the secular authorities, signal weakness to the New Gods, start a fire that couldn\u2019t be put out. But it didn\u2019t mean they would sit around forever. Sooner or later the hammer would come down. And when it did, the Black Watch had to be ready.<\/p>\n Which was why she was here. If she could, she would have buried herself in the deepest hole she could find, skulk about at night, keep under the radar of law enforcement. But if today\u2019s meet went well, it could change everything.<\/p>\n She lifted her overpriced ginger ale to her lips and stole a sip. In that motion, she glanced about the club.<\/p>\n It was Queer Friday at Cherchez. The day the club celebrated the outsiders, the nonconformists, the weirdos, everyone who refused to follow the crowd. Of course, in Babylon, that statement didn\u2019t mean anything anymore.<\/p>\n On the floor, bull dykes with hard faces and close-cropped buzz cuts cozied up to femmes in micro-dresses. Herms strutted about in skintight leotards and bodysuits, their bulbous breasts and massive phalluses straining under the fabric. Men with painted faces and women\u2019s clothes congregated at the bar and the buffet tables. Pale-faced andros dressed all in black hovered at the edges of the club. Most of the waitstaff had dressed for the occasion, in crisscrossing vinyl straps that covered everything important while exposing slithering tattoos and glistening scales and shining chrome and other bodymods. On the stage, illuminated in deep red lights, a stripper tore off the last of her garments, revealing thin strips of flesh-colored biopolymer implants that covered her nipples and vagina, simultaneously obeying the law while flaunting it.<\/p>\n Hidden in the shadows were the most normal-looking people among them. The bar backs, the bartender, the security staff, the high-powered executives\u2014all of them men\u2014who wrote their own rules with stacks of cash.<\/p>\n And Fox.<\/p>\n Anywhere else in Babylon, her outfit would pass the dress codes of most clubs. But not here. She\u2019d gone for function over flash. A white blouse paired with shiny black leggings. Low-pro steel-toed boots molded to fit her feet. An urban gray jacket, strategically reinforced in key wear areas, laden with hidden pockets, comfortable and classy enough for all seasons and all environments. A wide leather belt with a gleaming gold buckle.<\/p>\n A folding knife in her pants pocket, a neck knife under her blouse.<\/p>\n An M99 pistol and four spare 30-round mags on her hips.<\/p>\n A revolver on her left ankle, a first aid kit on her right.<\/p>\n She had dressed around her weapons and comported herself accordingly. She was as bulked up as a woman could get without resorting to steroids or pacts with the New Gods. With her hair buzzed short and done up in a fauxhawk, she was just another bull dyke in a club filled with them. If anyone noticed her outfit, they would decide she had embraced the butch look without quite crossing over into the exaggerated pseudo-masculine aesthetic of the actual dykes on the floor. If they looked closer, the shine of her buckle and leggings would draw attention away from her face, her hands, her tools. And if all else failed, well, that was why she had dyed her hair platinum blond and donned enormous glasses with tinted lenses.<\/p>\n Deception within deception, camouflage within camouflage. She had learned that in New Operator Training School, and again in the Black Watch. Yuri Yamamoto had taught her that. Among many other things.<\/p>\n She drank again. Scanned again. Her soul wondered how and why people would willingly twist themselves into grotesque parodies of the human form. Her face offered an appreciative smile to anyone who happened to look at her. Her eyes hunted for hands, faces, weapons.<\/p>\n Nightclub fashion and firearms do not play nice together. Queer Friday even more so. Three in five of the patrons here showed off so much of their bodies, they couldn\u2019t possibly hide any weapons without resorting to cyber or bioware or ultra-deep body concealment. Of the remainder, nine in ten paid no attention to her. The last was the security staff, and they watched everybody.<\/p>\n Like her.<\/p>\n She had hoped to sneak in early, find a good spot and hunker down. No such luck. An hour before opening time, there was already a long queue snaking from the door to the street. In the end, once the doors had opened, she walked up to the doorman and flashed her badge.<\/p>\n She might be suspended from duty, but the muscle let her through anyway. But he had also alerted the staff to her presence, advising them to treat her nice.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t that bad. The night manager herself had personally tended to her, walking Fox to the booth of her choice, one that offered a clear view of the entrance, right next to the service hallway to the bathrooms and the back exit. Drinks were on the house. So was the buffet and, if she\u2019d wanted it, personal services from the dancers. Fox had simply smiled and said she was here to wait for a friend. A friend who would also show a badge.<\/p>\n Except that, unlike Fox, she was active duty.<\/p>\n Not that she would tell anyone that.<\/p>\n At ten minutes to ten, Fox spotted the woman she was supposed to meet tonight. She was clearly not dressed for the club. A dark sweater over a thin blouse, black pants and low heels. A huge handbag dangled from her shoulder.<\/p>\n It was corporate attire, most assuredly not tactical attire. The heels would slow her down in a dynamic situation, the clothing would tear up on first contact with asphalt, and she had no gun belt. She might have a weapon in her bag, but it wasn\u2019t a fast action bag designed for rapid firearm deployment. Even if things went sideways, Fox knew she was quicker on the draw.<\/p>\n Ripples spread throughout the club, the crowd reacting to the presence of the stranger. Faces turned, staring at the oddly-dressed newcomer, trying to classify her. Too femme to be a butch, too conservatively dressed for the night\u2019s theme, too plebeian to be an executive. And she wasn\u2019t wearing a staff nametag. She didn\u2019t fit in. Already she was tensed up, winding through the crowd, following the manager\u2019s lead, craning her head back and forth, looking for Fox.<\/p>\n Fox looked past <\/em>her.<\/p>\n No one had come in with the woman, or behind her. The ones who had come in before her were Queer Friday celebrants, outfitted in the most outrageous costumes they could find, costumes that couldn\u2019t hide weapons. No one paid any extra attention to Fox, and the vibe in the air signaled curiosity instead of hostility.<\/p>\n She was\u2014probably\u2014<\/em>here alone.<\/p>\n Cherchez La Femme was a deliberate choice. Cops would stick out like sore thumbs here. Hell, men <\/em>would stick out here, especially the kind of men who populated tactical units. An undercover takedown team would be dressed similarly to Fox, but other than the unarmed security staff no one else followed the same nontactical tactical fashion she subscribed to.<\/p>\n But if the New Gods were in play, their Elect would have plenty of tricks up their sleeves.<\/p>\n Which was why Fox kicked up her alertness a notch.<\/p>\n As the woman approached, Fox rose to her feet, her lips parting into a bright smile.<\/p>\n \u201cTessa! I was waiting here for ages!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry,\u201d Tessa White said sheepishly. \u201cI got held up at work. You know how it is.\u201d<\/p>\n It was the agreed-upon password. White was here alone, and she had spotted no signs of surveillance.<\/p>\n Fox sat right back down, still commanding her view of the door and the club. White eased up next to her, resting her bag on her lap. Fox sneaked a glance, saw that it was zipped up tight.<\/p>\n White said something, but a blast of music drowned out her voice.<\/p>\n \u201cLADIES AND GENTLEMEN! FREAKS AND WEIRDOS! HERMS AND QUEERS! PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR! MIZZ! DAAAAAAANIKAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!\u201d<\/p>\n On the stage, a dancer in a crimson bathrobe strutted down the catwalk, heralded by an up-tempo electronic instrumental blasting from the speakers. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the bathrobe pool at her feet. She was an exotic, her entire body covered in fine feline fur, save for her naked belly. Cat ears sprouted from her silky hair, and a prehensile tail swayed side to side as she sashayed. Her shiny black vinyl bikini and assless chaps contrasted against her fur.<\/p>\n Only the Liberated offered bodymods as extensive as that. Fox wondered if it were worth the price.<\/p>\n The crowd seemed appreciative. A roar of approval shook the walls. Notes fluttered in the air like confetti. White stared wide-eyed at the dancer, her mouth gaping, her brain trying to comprehend what it was looking at. When the acoustic spike settled and the background noise fell back to normal, Fox turned to White.<\/p>\n \u201cYou said something?\u201d Fox asked.<\/p>\n \u201cInteresting place for a meeting!\u201d White repeated.<\/p>\n Fox grinned. \u201cIt\u2019s got character, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n Not to mention VIP rooms in the back, for lap dances or more private business.<\/p>\n White just shook her head.<\/p>\n A passing waitress set White\u2019s order on the table. A margarita, complete with a slice of fresh lime. Fox raised her glass.<\/p>\n \u201cCheers!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n They clinked their glasses and drank. White gulped down a great mouthful, then another, and yet another, as though trying to drown her nerves. The second the glasses touched the table, Fox slipped into business mode.<\/p>\n \u201cOur mutual friend said you had something for me,\u201d Fox said quietly.<\/p>\n White nodded. \u201cHe said you were looking for information about the New Gods. And their dealings with the Directors.\u201d<\/p>\n Special Agent in Charge Nick Malone was, and remained, one of the finest PSB agents Fox had known. When she joined the Bureau, Malone showed her the ropes. He had mentored her, guided her, pushed her to be all she could be. When she floated the idea of joining the Special Tasks Section, he had cheered her on. Even after joining STS, they had kept in touch, swapping gossip and intelligence in their off-time.<\/p>\n When the dust settled at the Golden Mile, Fox came to him looking for leverage. Malone asked no questions; he simply said he would make a few calls. One thing led to another, and here they were now.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you have for me?\u201d Fox asked.<\/p>\n \u201cLogs. Audio transcripts. Minutes of meetings. All of them heavily classified. All of them point to ongoing long-term relationships between the PSB and the New Gods. And an ongoing criminal conspiracy.\u201d<\/p>\n Fox\u2019s eyes widened.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of conspiracy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMurder for hire. The Speakers of the Gods share intelligence about their rivals with the PSB. The Directors in turn send the STS to strike at their rivals. The New Gods also give the directors and the upper management perks and kickbacks to keep things sweet, and to try to buy each other out.\u201d<\/p>\n Fox breathed, killing all signs of surprise and anger before they leaked from her body.<\/p>\n Director Pearce had claimed that the purpose of the STS was to maintain the balance of power among the New Gods. To prevent them from initiating a catastrophic war that would destroy the world. Thus, no single faction could be allowed to gain or lose too much power. She might have been on board with that, had she been told about it.<\/p>\n But this\u2026 this was too much.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re saying the Directors are using the STS as guns for hire,\u201d Fox said.<\/p>\n White nodded vigorously. \u201cYes. The Speakers even go so far as to specify who they want dead or alive, what kind of tech or artifacts to be recovered, and who should be left alone.\u201d<\/p>\n Which went a long way towards explaining why the New Gods were still the top dogs in Babylon.<\/p>\n \u201cHow far does the conspiracy go?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll the way to the top.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow<\/em> far?\u201d<\/p>\n White shook her head. \u201cIt\u2019s not safe here. I can\u2019t say the names in public.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean the Directors.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHigher<\/em>.\u201d She lowered her voice, so low Fox had to read her lips. \u201cThe Cabinet is involved.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHoly shit\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Shaking her head, Fox sipped at her drink. It sounded unreal. Maybe it was. But maybe it wasn\u2019t. Only one way to tell.<\/p>\n \u201cHow did you come across this information?\u201d Fox asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI am a Supervisory Special Agent at the Riveria field office,\u201d White replied. \u201cAs part of the Preternatural Crimes Division, part of my responsibilities is to consolidate and organize intelligence concerning the New Gods. Including official government contact with their Speakers.<\/p>\n \u201cTwo months ago, I was placed in charge of a project to upgrade the databases. My team and I had to sort and classify the documents we had on the New Gods. While going through the archives, I discovered a cache of documents that wasn\u2019t<\/em> classified. I peeked at them and\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd I saw what I wasn\u2019t supposed to see.\u201d White shuddered. \u201cThe database leaves access logs, you know? And I don\u2019t have the know-how or the pull to erase the logs. Someday, the New Gods are going to learn that I saw the files. Them or the Directors.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait a second. If the files are as explosive as you say they are, shouldn\u2019t they be classified?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey were. Top secret, sensitive compartmented intelligence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow did you get access?\u201d<\/p>\n White squirmed, blinking rapidly.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s\u2026 well, it\u2019s a flaw in the database management system. On the PSB intranet, it doesn\u2019t properly enforce SCI restrictions. Admins with TS clearance can access all<\/em> information, even if they aren\u2019t read into it. The project was supposed to rectify this issue, among others.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy did you read the data, then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it was unusual. All docs in the DMS are tagged and index for easy retrieval and reference. But these docs? They had nothing. No profile, no originator, nothing. Just timestamps. When I saw it, I thought it was legacy data that wasn\u2019t properly classified. I figured if I read it, I could figure out how to sort them out. Instead\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou dug up a bomb.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah\u2026\u201d White gripped her glass. \u201cThis is the sort of data the New Gods will kill<\/em> for.\u201d<\/p>\n And the Directors<\/em>, Fox wanted to add. If they were in league with the New Gods, they would stop at nothing to ensure White\u2019s silence.<\/p>\n \u201cEven death won\u2019t stop the New Gods from getting what they heard,\u201d Fox said.<\/p>\n \u201cI heard about machine interrogation.\u201d White shuddered. \u201cTell me, does the Singularity Network really <\/em>upload minds into their Net to torture them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. They can do that to dead bodies, even, so long as the brains are still fresh and intact.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFuck\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want to do with the info?\u201d Fox asked.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2026 I don\u2019t know. But Nick told me you were looking for leverage. Something you could use to expose the New Gods and their relationship with the brass. If we publish this, then maybe\u2026 maybe they\u2019ll be too busy saving themselves to go after us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s the plan,\u201d Fox said.<\/p>\n It was the Black Watch\u2019s only hope. Once he earned the ire of the New Gods, no man could withstand their wrath.<\/p>\n Except maybe Yuri, but he was special.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2014the Black Watch\u2014have been suspended. Technically it\u2019s illegal for you to hand this information to us,\u201d Fox said.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, but everyone knows that the STS is independent of the New Gods. Especially the Black Watch. They suspended you because you offended the New Gods too many times, right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere are formal channels for whistleblowers.\u201d<\/p>\n White laughed, then shook her head.<\/p>\n \u201cThe New Gods are above the law. Always have been, always will. If I go through the proper channels, I\u2019ll just disappear. Or worse. You guys\u2026 you guys are my only hope.\u201d<\/p>\n Fox couldn\u2019t disagree. At least whistleblowers who exposed corruption and malpractice within the human government earned the sympathy of the people. Those who spoke against the New Gods were guaranteed only eternal condemnation.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you have the information with you?\u201d Fox asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNot in person, no. The data is copy-protected. I can<\/em> access it on my laptop, but that\u2019s it. I can\u2019t download it on external drives.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere\u2019s your laptop?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn my hotel room. I\u2026 I thought it was too dangerous to bring it out.\u201d<\/p>\n A complication. But not a major one.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go get it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you plan to do with it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know a tech guy. He can do the impossible. I\u2019ll hand the laptop to him, let him do his magic, and we\u2019ll extract the data we need.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd publish it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n White twitched nervously, scanning the crowd. \u201cWe should get going.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you drive here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I took a cab.\u201d<\/p>\n Fox slammed down her drink.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go. I\u2019ll drive you there.\u201d<\/p>\n Superheroes, cops, and a criminal conspiracy that engulfs the Establishment. If this appeals to you, check out my novel\u00a0HOLLOW CITY<\/a>!<\/p>\n![\"Hollow](\"https:\/\/images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com\/images\/I\/51OdFgsAI%2BL.jpg\")
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