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Alive, then. But in what condition?

Don't act surprised. The network was blown, this was inevitable.

Still, it sickens you. One of yours. One of yours.

Of course you were the best. She had nothing to compare you to.

You once heard an old hand say that the tortured walk their own province.

On behalf of the invisible master.

A miserable defiance to the set of her chin.

Same age as you were when you were shot in the chest.

If Karolina managed not to give them anything then the Weeping Eye will have taken a lot in return.

You would have stayed had you known. You would have rescued her.

She doesn't know what to say. She let Karolina down, too.

Or was it the drink, the job.

She hates agreeing with you.

You try to imagine the casual workplace conversation of human traffickers. You fail.

No you're not, she wanted it bad.

She puts her hand to her heart, sighs.

We're definitely more believable than that wet drunk.

She purses her lips in distaste.

Her voice a low hiss.

The shadows under her eyes deepen. She swallows.

Ring binders stacked on a glass-topped conference table, a chair at either end. She notices a tiny circle of paper on the carpet -- lost from a hole-puncher? A polite cough brings her attention back to her interviewer.

Voice hollow. She's not trying to insult you, just telling the truth.

Automatically, your eyes scan up from hers. You notice the lace at the front of her wig.

She outsmarted the Bank. She may be a pain but she is undeniably skilled.

Too harrowed by the memory to dismiss the compliment outright.

And now she has macrame.

Because she doesn't know what to say.

Riled, not yet convinced. Keep pushing, make her believe you're capable of this.

Dolphins reflected in his eyeglasses.

Another shadow.

You'll have to reestablish contact with him yourself, then. But there's no way you'll get back into that jail.

You could try rewiring the phone network to the intercom. Find a payphone, see if it's possible.

Her husband clears his throat.

Counting the days to early retirement, coasting comfortably towards irrelevance.

They'll ask for the moon.

Of course she does. No more playground shit. Operant CASCADE has arrived.

The intensity in her gaze changes colour. A subtle new hue eats into the trembling edges of her dilated pupils that you haven't seen before and can't quite name.

Her jaw slackens, her face seems strange. All the little muscles that form her usual expression have been abandoned in fear.

The Weeping Eye have defeated her without even laying a finger on her.

Bad news: It appears that ESTOC no longer considers herself your direct report. Or your asset. Or your friend.

Fucking coward.

So Eszti knew the Eye had Karolina but didn't try to help, didn't even visit afterward.

Waves curl endlessly onto a shore of fine pebble. Pascal takes the lid off the teapot, notices two men walking up the garden path. He opens the door with a smile.

Again. Harder. She needs to believe you've got it in you.

It strikes you that you are both rearranging yourselves as strangers.

This old bitch will never be gäng again.

9,179 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 176 of 184