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Taym liked to think of Maebe's approach as "clipboard and an attitude." It was a tactic he had not-infrequently used himself, pre-Deus: mostly to snag prescription pads off walk-in clinic desks or to gain access to wings of the building he shouldn't be in or to brazenly scoop money out of his employer's till and into his pocket or a wallet off of a table. Just look like you're supposed to be there and supposed to be doing what you are and no one will question you. And mostly it worked.

Now was not, Taym felt, the best time for the clipboard and an attitude approach. He went very still, too stunned to actually summon up an immediate reaction and instead waiting stupidly where he was.

Maebe's breath hitched just slightly when she felt an arm around her, but she fell into step with him, looking quite comfortable with the connection. For all she didn't know, it really did seem like she'd made the right choice by exposing herself - especially since someone was looking out for her.

She didn't know him. She didn't know why he'd claim her to keep her safe. She did know that he sounded misogynistic as ********, which was probably going to be key to saving her skin. So she put the box down, and played up the weak act.

Until the door closed, sealing her inside.

She knew Taym was out there, and she wanted to make sure he made the right choice. Her voice rose just a tiny bit higher at certain key phrases, in hopes he'd get the message.

"Oh, don't worry about me sir, I'm fine. I'm here to do the job and get out, and that means lifting heavy things. I can handle it."

She turned on her heel and headed for the boxes, her expression masked carefully. Just do the job, and get out, Taym. Just do the job. And get out.

When Taym had first been given this assignment he'd sat up in his chair, next to his perpetually-unused bed, and he'd thought about whether a soldier shooting another soldier constituted a murder, if both of them were just following orders delivered by people doing what was thought to be right. Whether it counted as a killing, if an infantryman put a gun to the enemy's head, if it served some greater good.

A crew carrying runic weapons didn't make them bad people any more than a gun made a soldier a murderer. He didn't know these people; he felt they were as likely to be men chasing paychecks as they were to be in some way responsible for the nightmarish trials they'd all just undergone.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Easy in, easy out, nobody hurt, job done and he could rest easy with a light conscience, and now he had several courses of action available to him and none of them were good.

Runic weapons in the hands of non-Hunters had caused a lot of suffering already. He knew this. Telling himself again and again that it was for the greater good, that it was the action that would lead to the least suffering, Taym made up his mind. Maebe had made a poor decision, and she was in any case a Hunter, at least somewhat equipped to defend herself for the minute and a half he was sure it would take him to utterly fail at what he was about to attempt and have to loop back for her anyway.

Telling himself the lie made him almost believe it.

He tore for the exit he hoped would be most likely to let him catch up with the truck, explosive in hand, praying for the impediments of fences and security gates and something, anything that would let him catch up, and simultaneously praying it got away clean so he could go back and deal with Maebe, try to do some good there, and not have the issue of possible civilian blood on his hands clouding his sleep for months to come.

And if, by some miracle, he did catch up? If he yelled, flagged them down, what would he say that would make them--not stop, even, just hesitate, just give him a half a second to think?

He figured: "Miss Saunders says the drop point's changed."

Which probably wouldn't work. But it might make them pause. And then he could think.

It was darker in the room with the basement door shut. It was a rather heavy door, iron maybe. The guy in the sunglasses circled Maebe, removing his gloves. On one hand was a brandished black O tattoo. The other hand was missing two fingers.

"A job's a job," he began, shrugging off his bland overcoat.

And then he summoned a large sledgehammer of a weapon, a full scale Hunter weapon and slammed it against the side of Maebe's head. Her Fear shield crackled and then all but gave in from a single blow, and he didn't play fair, he didn't wait for her to recover as he slammed her right into a pile of crates.

He began whistling as he slowly walked towards her and then kneeled over. "You alright?"

He'd gotten out of the van. In a swift, casual movement, Taym deposited the detonator into the pocket of his jacket so that he could take the pen and clipboard, adopting a world-weary, confidential air, trying to strike that balance between patient good-cop superior and frazzled equal in the trenches of corporate warfare.

"Listen," he said, brain working as fast as it could, which wasn't very, as he took the pen and began scanning the clipboard almost frantically. "I didn't say it, but no one agrees with you more than me. She's got us all salaried just to keep from having to do that s**t and I'm pretty sure Christmas bonuses are off the table. You know how she is, too--" and here he launched a pitch-perfect imitation of the woman who'd tied him to a chair in a basement, because he'd spent a lot of time remembering her "--so much as a single piece of stock and I'll have all your jobs--"

A tired little laugh. "Sorry about my buddy back there, too, he's got a somewhat overwrought sense of theatrics. Lot of trouble over a half-dozen b..." The pen was on the clipboard and was halfway through some made up name when Taym's jovial smile crumbled.

"It says five boxes here," he said as though this were deeply wrong, and with a put-upon sigh he tucked the clipboard under one arm and pulled out the runic scanner, hoping it looked appropriately technical and impressive and in the right place. "Get ready to rack up some more overtime. I'll try and make it quick. Open 'er up. Red tape."

No Maebe, now was a good time for a clipboard and an attitude.

Hopefully.

The security guard's face almost comically fell at the words no Christmas bonus. The rest of the words seem to slide off his glazed eyes as he motioned for the other guys to get off the van and start unloading. He looked almost like an ordinary guy. "Just so you know I've dealt with a lot of clients," he said, turning off the headphones and direct line of communication, "and frankly, your boss is sort of a b***h. She's probably the worst we've had by far."

The security van unlocked, all five boxes in sight. Everyone had gotten off the van and were not fanning Taym in confusion. The guy Taym was talking to started counting fingers. "That's five - we're not - we're not missing another one are we?" He sounded almost anxious.

Something was finally starting to feel entirely wrong about the situation. As if she'd never been in one quite like it before. She felt outranked in every possible way, with nothing to rely on, and nothing to pull from for ideas. She was out of options, except for the two that he'd given her.

Die, or call for help.

Maebe actually considered them very carefully. This was no easy decision. Death did not scare her so much as taking the wrong step. So she thought hard about it, even as the adrenaline spiked inside of her from the feel of a dagger biting into her skin - into her skin, not her shield, and oh god she'd almost forgotten how nice it was. But she had to focus, and she reached down to put her hands on top of his, trying to push with any force she had left to keep him from actually being able to stab her. Other than this, no screams seemed to be coming out of her mouth.

In fact, when her choice finally solidified, her voice sounded remarkably accepting.

"If you and I aren't on the same side, then I'm dead either way. The only choice you're really giving me is whether or not I go out as a traitor, or not. So do me just one favor. If you actually are about to kill me, make it quick, and get back to work."

Her eyes narrowed, but they were dead inside already. "Nobody's coming to save me. Nobody will mourn. You really lucked out this time around - I'm every bit as useless as any other human being on this world. And since I'm dying anyway, I should apologize - you're probably going to be impotent."

Maebe's knee came up as hard as she could, kicking him right in the balls.