Two Mercs: Part Fourteen

Safely ensconced within the flat Dave and Emily went over the information they'd gathered since returning from Watford. Charts and organisational diagrams littered the floor and a large picture of the person they'd been able to identify as Agent Khem, previously known as Mr Shadow, was hanging on one wall. Rocking back on his heels Dave stretched as he rose to his full height, moving to stand by the window.
"So all of Khem's information said that Sentinel Aegis was going to try and buy the mayor's office? That's why I had to lose an arm?"
Emily's gaze was flicking between three different pieces of paper and she threw one down in frustration, glaring up at Dave.
"I was led through the nose. Is that what you want to hear?" Scooping up another paper Emily turned her attention to it. "But it doesn't make sense. Why would a senior agent of MI6 want the only company supplying the Border Force with armoured units taken down just for doing what every up-city company does?"
Dave shook his head as he turned, looking down at all the sheets of paper for a moment.
"Go to your cafe. Get some of your trawlers to check him out."
Emily sighed and put down the papers she held, folding a different corner on each, before rising and crossing to where her tablet was sitting.
"The trawler that got us Khem's name was hunted down and destroyed. I'll need some time to write a stronger version."

Dave sat alone in the flat for a while after Emily had left. If he was honest with himself he didn't care about Khem once he'd been paid, instead wanting to focus on getting a new client, but he understood that Khem had made it personal when he'd got Emily to assassinate her own stepfather. Flexing his new artificial arm he stood from the sofa and glanced at the neat stacks he made of the papers that had been on the floor. It wasn't in him to be inactive and he grabbed the spare key from the kitchenette before descending to street level. Walking between the market stalls he felt different, knowing that he was a weapon of sorts all on his own, and he took an apple from the vegetable stand, promising to check in on the owner if they ever needed help.

That was just how the low-city worked, so very different to the up-city. Crushing the apple in his metal hand Dave slowly unfurled each finger to obverse the mush that was the apple's remains. His fist was an analogy for Central Bank, which controlled the lives of everyone who interacted with it and destroyed them at its pleasure. He'd been a child when Central Bank had been established, formed from the existing banks amid the chaos following the destruction of Westminster Palace, when the true distinctions between the two cities of London emerged. Dave's pace slowed as he remembered those hectic days, when fears of a Union invasion was all the media featured, and he slowly glanced up towards the heights of a nearby tower. The destruction of Westminster Palace had started a panic, just as the downfall of Sentinel Aegis would. He finally stopped, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. The last panic had used the threat of invasion to create the world they were now living in, with all of its security checks, sealed off districts and the monopolisation of industries. What would this new panic on the horizon do, who would benefit? Turning Dave began running back to the flat, his mind on the stacks of papers.

---

Falling into one of the comfy beanbags in the internet cafe's 'relaxation area' Emily looked at her tablet. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, an uncompleted trawler bot's standard appearance, and she carefully moved through the lines until she found what she was looking for. Her last batch of trawlers had proved to be inadequate compared to the defence programs used by MI6 and if she was going to be spying on a spy her new bots and viruses would have to be basically perfect. Highlighting a segment of code she went through it, tweaking a series of numbers that seemed to leap out at her, before moving on. Six more times she altered the code, hopefully making the bot stronger, before saving the file.

Rising from the beanbag she crossed to the nearest unused computer, logging on and transferring her bot program from the tablet to the computer. Opening a modelling program and loading the typical figure she attached to her trawlers Emily ran an eye over the CGI version of herself. To match the fact the new trawler was supposed to be better than the old one she copied her original figure before making adjustments, bulking her up and giving her a more generally intimidating appearance. Flipping through a series of computer programs she attached the figure to the trawler before importing it into her private game server, logging into the game after making sure the import had worked.

The simulation of her flat felt a little oppressive, no doubt due to the presence of her new trawler, and Emily sat on the bed as the bot turned away from the punching bag it'd created.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Scour the internet for anything to do with an Agent Khem. Pay attention to any bank accounts, emails, anything and everything."
The trawler flexed an arm, checking out its muscles, before returning its attention to Emily.
"And what am I expected to go up against?"
"High-level security programs. I've beefed up your code so you should be able to overcome them."
The trawler nodded, going back to her punching bag, and Emily waited for a moment before logging out, coming back to her body with a shiver. Collecting her tablet she stood, smiling at Mitchell when he noticed her, and made her way back to the flat.