Resolving the Situation

Sarakai didn't like Urbrald much. It reminded her of home.

The people looked different here, but they were the same. The smells were familiar, the taste of factory effluvium and poverty in the air. The transport Sarakai and her team were in was well out over the water now, the city out of sight, but the smell still seemed to haunt the air of the cabin. Like it followed us out here.

Sarakai checked on the other members of the team with a critical eye, found everything satisfactory. Talvaas was up front, piloting the rented light transport. It shuddered slightly, as they began to slow near their destination - a spot well away from land, directly over a deep ocean trench.

The other two members of the team were talking quietly, across the tiny aircraft's cargo space. Nazdah smiled and laughed as Gadaruin - still dressed as a local, in drab shirt and work pants and worn boots, grease under his nails and skin artificially roughened - told her lies about some exploit of his or other. Nazdah, like Talvaas and Sarakai herself, was dressed in black tacticals over light armor. The striking True Amarr woman had been 'plan B.'

Plan B hadn't been needed. Plan A - Gadaruin - had worked like a charm. He was, as his personnel file said, 'probably mostly Vherokior'. He'd contacted the target, one Jemadar Abrastin, and the words 'Valhiri Akell' had hardly left his mouth before Abrastin was begging for a meeting. Gadaruin had offered information in return for an amount of money calculated to be affordable but taken seriously by the target. Then it was just a matter of setting up meeting in a sufficiently secluded spot.

This Abrastin fellow had been making himself a problem for Ms Akell, who was a friend of Sarakai's commander, Amieta Invelen. It was Amieta that had suggested using Akell's name as the bait.

With how fast he jumped at info about Akell, Nazdah might not have worked anyway. Glad Amieta is still sharp when it counts, even if she's gone a little soft.

It had been an unpleasant few days in Urbrald. Watching the ebb and flow. Factory workers trudging to work, or home. Tired looking prostitutes and nervous dealers. A gang of feral teenagers had tried to mug Sarakai and Gadaruin when they were on the way to the location for the meet, but it had been dark enough that the operation hadn't been endangered. No extra bodies to dispose of.

They'd had the meeting in an abandoned garage. Jemadar had shown up, they'd simply grabbed him and shoved him into a van. He hadn't had time to fight, or beg. Doubt he even had time to be surprised.

Sarakai stood as the transport banked. Nazdah slid open the cargo door built into the side. On the floor of the transport was a large bag made of a heavy, synthetic fabric. Inside were a number of weights and Jemadar Abrastin. Sarakai and Gadaruin each grabbed an end and tossed it into the sea below.

As the bag vanished beneath the waves, Sarakai helped re-latch the door and took a seat with a small sigh. Another day in Urbrald. At least the shuttle up to the station was early the next morning.

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