Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Aaaaaand if Venom doesn't handle it by tomorrow you just get back and he magically told Hades about it anyway!))

((BUTT HIS NAME IS MARCUS

IS PROPER))

((LOLOL

I DUZN'T LIEK TEH SIMPLICITIES))

Returning thoughts came. Acceptable loss. Any casualties? Send me memory of grenade-tossing.

They were now pulling up to one of the car-only gates that limited entrance to the Bullfrog syndicate territory. Without resistance or second-checking, they were allowed to pass through, and they cruised towards the HQ.

Silence was held for a second, then knowledge returned. That agent had been full level one, perhaps with a few additional leg attachments. How much of a difference such seemingly low-level modifications made. Then information on Agent Bush. Mostly images; assignments she had been put on. Some reflected well; she had done some incredibly honorable things. Others, not so much, including the assassination of children, needless civilian casualties, and the likes. Thankfully, the former greatly outnumbered the latter.

Then a message. Discuss when you get here. Be ready for a surprise. The communicator went dead.

They reached the end of the bridge across San Francisco Bay. Maybe two minutes of driving left.

The vehicle pulled up to the headquarters. They were directed into the building, through another gate and into what seemed to be an underground parking lot. After a few moments of painful walking and talking, they entered an elevator (although Agent Bush was ushered into a different elevator, which appeared to be going down instead of up). The elevator seemed prepared for them; a few medics examined their wounds, placed bandages and chemical mixtures upon them, and informed them that they would be debriefing before being given over to the doctors and the agent repairmen. In the meantime, whatever the medics had done banished their pain and set their minds in its proper state.

When the elevator stopped, they were ushered into a hall, then through the glass doors they had entered to get into the waiting room, straight through the flush sliding doors into the darkened room. The same chairs stood there, the same lighting circumstances, but this time there were figures slightly to Hades' right. There were four of them. One was tall, one was at his shoulder and definitely female, another female, perhaps a child, and then another man, broad-shouldered but short.

"Sit," Hades requested. "I'm impressed. This was sort of a proving grounds, and you handled adverse situations better than expected. This sort of thing won't be happening every day." He wasn't asking for details; it sounded almost like he knew more than even Cado had told him. "You contested against similar numbers of similarly modified agents and were victorious; no surprises there, we don't hire people as agents to slack off. You managed yourself well without contact with headquarters and could well have accomplished the mission if it weren't for the variables I played." He played? "Going into essentially enemy territory with extremely minor support - well-played, especially against agents who were tipped off and were prepared to engage you. I would be practically kissing you if you had actually managed the assassination." At this the tallest of the gentlemen shifted uncomfortably. The boatman, awkwardly, moved away from the group, past the desk, and joined the figures standing in the darkness. He seemed to nearly trip on his way there.

"So. I think I'll ask the opinion of those who saw you in action. First, Mrs. Daley?" he inquired. She stepped forward into the light. It was indubitably the same Mrs. Daley they had engaged earlier. She looked a little in pain and was leaning on a crutch, but her wounds were all better bandaged than they had left them, and she wasn't having the sort of difficulty they would've expected a wounded person to operate with.

"They had me fooled," she sighed. "I mean, I know you told me assassins were coming, but... I wouldn't have guessed, not the way they handled it." Shock should've been wearing off by about this time. For Alyx, it clearly wasn't; she was staring at Mrs. Daley as though she had seen a ghost.

Hades' profile shrugged. "She would be dead. Yes, it would be a terrible shame. No, I didn't intend for you to do anything like that. Agent Bush's timing was beyond my control, and at that point I couldn't activate the communicator. Admittedly you could've, but you didn't know that, and I couldn't tell you.

"So if she'd been killed, she'd be dead, and she'd be a bad mark on your record." Mrs. Daley gave a little grimace. "Not much I could've done about it," Hades added, turning to the taller of the male figures. "What think you, Mr. Daley?"

The man stepped into the light beside his wife. He was tall, handsome, dressed smartly, and his blonde hair was indeed slicked back smooth. It almost shined and seemed to draw the eye to it. "Well, they never even really approached me, nor do I believe anyone ever put sight or scope onto me. I don't know precisely what happened, but I believe their performance on the actual assassination was rather... insufficient?" His expression was impossible to read.

"You weren't really supposed to," Hades commented. "If you had, there was a chance you would've actually killed him. I may have had no power to preserve Mrs. Daley, but I didn't think that would be a problem. I suppose I was mistaken."