Freeport 10's Research Deck: Commonwealth Research and Development Wing.

[Enkidu]

"...Putain de la FUC<expletive>ING merde!!!"

Several explosive crashes and Achille had bounded round the aperture, snarling like a orca. Sighting the incorrigible Susan did little to sooth his temperament.

"...You..." He raised a trembling limb in accusation, as to bore his digits through her features; "You! How, how dare you..."

Behind his back Achille Augustin Nadeau raised a mid-sized, pearl-handled clasp knife of impeccable workmanship, Robert's initials etched into it's hilt, it's essence. For a fleeting moment he toyed with the possibility of shanking the wretched witch through her eyeballs and leaving her to rot in peace, if if only for a moment.

A flutter of the eyelids and blood drained from his brain, leaving him swaying slightly in the arch.

"Ah, cheri... I mean, ahem, Doctor McCarthy..." He murmured calmly, composure returning before it's absence could become unnerving; "...What exactly can I pleasure you with, ah, that is to say, what would you want, Susan?"

The knife clattered unobtrusively out of his left palm, before being shuffled behind the porch by his left heel. "After all, no sense in violence." He winced quietly, gazing tiredly at his colleague.

"So what happens to be the problem, mon associé? Did Sean's beer cooler run out of cryocubes, or do you require extra assets from the storage department?"

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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