"Back again, CASCADE? Might want to, you know, get the fuck on with it."

"Back again, CASCADE? Might want to, you know, get the fuck on with it."

"Were they all sitting together?"

"Yeah, all around one table. Lichy by the window."

They should have been spread out to cover off potential threats.

"They shouldn't have been in one place -- were they like that the whole way up?"

"I dunno, I wasn't watching them the whole time -- that would be pretty fucking obvious."

The bomb twitches in its casing.

Place it on the luggage rack on the lower floor. Point up. Cross fingers.

What if they don't sit there again?

Then you will be unlucky -- but you can still improvise.

Don't forget the trigger. The song.

ALL THAT I HEAR LATELY, IS MY SUPERBLOC BABY.

Zero cloak, full dagger.

The antithesis of a professional spy. They'll never see it coming.

Luggage rack on the floor below for the bomb. You need a good angle and a prayer.

What if they don't sit there again?

Then you need a new angle. Both literally and figuratively.

The luggage rack on the lower floor is your safest bet to stow it. The floors are very thin.

What if they don't sit there again?

Then you don't need to detonate it, do you?

Some form of explosive device may have been useful.

Too late for that.

A late-game improvisation, but -- what would it take for this carriage to derail? Tram as sacrifice!

I am the explosive device.

Remember: Front toward enemy.

They're all fine friends, obviously. Enjoying their day out.

"They stayed like that the whole ride up?"

"Give me visual descriptions of the entourage."

"You mean what did they look like? Like hired goons, I don't know."

"I'll take any details you've got."

"One of them had a ridiculous coat on, fucking standard for these clowns. And another of them had weird glasses, no hair -- he looked like the actual Boss Cunt to me."

Ignatz was right. The idiot was hiding gold in that hideous coat all along.

"That was Tesoro Buendia, chief of the Weeping Eye."

Your cupbearer gives you a look that can only be described as 'terminally unimpressed'.

"He's a massive fucking deal. Extremely dangerous. Up there with the Lich himself."

"I know Boss Cunts when I see them, Hersh. The bald glasses guy was running the show."

"Are they armed?"

"Probably." She shrugs. "Dunno."

Unbelievable. Enlisting this child was a serious miscalculation.

"Do these trams have bathrooms?" (Try to stifle the rising sense of panic.)

"No... why?"

"Oh, nothing, just wanted to maybe dissociate for an hour or two."

"Right now? Hersh, we're on. Doing it fucking live."

"The band is woefully unrehearsed, CRYPTONYM TBD!"

Alternative wording

"The band is woefully unrehearsed, YO-YO!"

Alternative wording

"The band is woefully unrehearsed, YOUNGBLOOD!"

"Get your head submerged in the game, please. Fuck me."

"Yes, yes, very on. Just asking."

"It's cool, this happens all the time. I'd be worried if it wasn't happening."

"Did you see any guns?"

"No. Lich was definitely packing a cool lighter though."

"I'd say I felt some guns, if that's any use. Saw them feelingly."

"This is hopeless."

"Let's just say they were, then we're prepared for the most fucked up scenario. Easy."

"What makes you say that?"

"Cool, so there's two bosses."

"I think so. This new one was way bigger, too. Big Boss Cunt."

You've never seen the man before either, but the horripilation up your neck tells you exactly who he is.

Uh oh. An unknown quantity. You don't care for those.

"Goons come in many shapes and sizes."

"These ones were bigger than your average."

"If it comes to it -- can we take them?"

"Could go either way. But if things go totally fuckward, we'll get our last licks in, let's say that. They'll know what they've killed."

"Let's just put them down first."

"Say the word. Finger's on the trigger."

You do not want this to end in a close quarters gunfight. If you can help it.

"You got some kind of signal, right? If it all goes cunts up?" She makes a gun shape with her hand.

"I prefer to make things up as I go along."

"What if we're split up, or we can't see each other? You picked a kill site on a mountain, with one fucking way out. This tram." She stabs a finger downwards.

"There's a jukebox -- pick any song you want. Think of it as a signal. A sign for us to make our move."

She motions to the music player beside her, wedged awkwardly into the space behind the back seats.

"Good initiative, CRYPTONYM TBD."

Alternative wording

"Good initiative, YO-YO."

Alternative wording

"Good initiative, YOUNGBLOOD."

"I thought so."

Once more, the bomb quivers in anticipation.

Every grand finale needs an epic cue.

It wouldn't take much to break into it and set your own music. At best a distraction... at worst a war cry.

"Psychic Crew Relay." (Tap the side of your head.)

"Yeah. This." (Make the same gun shape with your hand.)

"Sounds cool, yet in this scenario we're still dead."

"Yeah, but, like, dead in fucking style."

"Sounds cool, yet in this scenario we're still wanged."

"It won't come to that."

"Wouldn't be so sure, CASCADE. The best rituals end with blood on the walls."

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine. Ready. Let's go."

A little quiver here and there -- nervous system at full charge -- but she's stable.

Tempo never really got nervous either -- a sociopathic streak which often served him very well, but occasionally very poorly.

"I know I'm not a trained spy or whatever, but... when it really counts... I won't let you down, Hersh."

Somewhere below the tram's thin floor lies her abandoned life, scattered like aircraft wreckage.

"I'm sure you won't. That's why you're here."

"Yeah. Good. Just wanted to... you know, make sure you know that."

"You think we'll be alright, though, yeah?" She looks at you and holds it.

No -- but don't let her see.

"Us? Yeah, we'll be alright."

"I thought so. I knew so."

The girl winks at you, pulls a long drag on her cigarette and grins.

Tempo grins with her.

"Maybe. These guys will be high level."

"Then we'll be alright. Tempo always said you were high level too."

"The Opera never tires."

Alternative wording

"The Opera never tires, YOUNGBLOOD."

Alternative wording

"The Opera never tires, YO-YO."

"Good. Neither do I."

"Whatever happens, by this time tomorrow it'll be over and done with."

"And then it will have happened." She looks out of the window. "And we'll all be somewhere else."

If you all make it out of this it'll be a miracle.

"If we all make it out of this it'll be a miracle."

"Really? I thought..." She falters. "Okay. Well, we're at a shrine. Go and find a fucking miracle."

"I think you might actually, but we are where we are."

"Cometh the hour, cometh the cunt." A slow drag.

"It's CASCADE."

"Her too."

"Not exactly acing your first assignment."

"I'm trying. You fucked one up so bad they put you in the morgue for half a decade."

"Besides the point."

"Freezer."

"Same difference. Where they stash the dead people."

"In case you hadn't noticed, CASCADE is extremely back."

"Let's do this." [Leave.]

"Keep your powder dry, CASCADE."

"The great CASCADE." She gives you a clipped nod and pulls on her black cigarette. "On time. World first."

She's dressed in a vague impression of a school uniform, customised to within an inch of its purpose.

'INDIVIDUALISM' IS BOURGEOIS FOR 'INSUBORDINATION'. TODAY THE UNIFORM... TOMORROW THE ORDERS.

"Yo yo, YO-YO. How's the school trip going?"

"Worst one yet." She glances around the empty tram. "Looks like I'm the only cunt who showed up."

"Don't worry, your friends are with you now."

"I wasn't worried."

But she's very glad you're here.

"What's your read, did you glean anything?"

"Saw a decrepit dope and some barely sentient goons get on at Central. They sat over there, at the table thing."

"By 'decrepit dope', you mean the Lich?"

"Yeah. Him. Our prime target." She rolls her cigarette across her mouth.

She was about to say something else. Something she thinks might be important.

"How many goons were there?"

"Four, including Boss Cunt Lich. Or maybe five. Couldn't see shit down here so I went up and asked one of them for a light. Pro move."

Not pro. Deeply amateur.

"So was it four, or five?"

"Could've been six. How the fuck was I supposed to count, they were all, like, undercover. That's why I asked for the light."

"Bold stagecraft. I approve."

"I've got tricks. The old guy reached over with a lighter. Said he liked my badge." She touches the pin-badge over her heart.

Ultra Violeta. Who else?

"She's on our team now."

"V's gonna watch over us." She taps the badge once more.

"But Hers--I mean, CASCADE..." Her voice dips. "That old Lich guy looks exactly like that old Luzian guy Tempo was dealing with."

Alternative wording

"But Hers--I mean, CASCADE..." Her voice dips. "That old Lich guy looks exactly like that old Dante guy Tempo was dealing with."

Distant crashes in the basement of your mind.

The body double. Favoured anti-assassination technique of the Illuminated Empire.

"Wait, as in he's really old too, or he looks exactly like him."

"As in... same fucking face."

Double. The mirror. A conjuror's trick.

"The prisoner was probably one of the Lich's body doubles."

Alternative wording

"Dante was probably one of the Lich's body doubles."

"Lucky he's in prison, then. Otherwise we'd be slabbing both to make sure." She holds up a finger gun and fires it at you.

"Anything else, capitan?"

"The prisoner was one of the Lich's body doubles."

Alternative wording

"Dante was one of the Lich's body doubles."

"The shadow lattice tightens."

"He had a different feeling about him too... Or maybe they're both just really fucking old. I don't know."

"Measures need to be taken. Whole entourage is going down. No survivors."

"Big moves. Bigger body count. I fucking approve."

"Doesn't matter. He's already dead either way."

"I'm with you. Fire and forget."

"Doesn't matter. He's already wanged either way."

Don't panic. Must've been a body double. A pawn distracts, the king withdraws.

Calm. The prisoner must've been a body double. The favoured anti-assassination technique of the Illuminated Empire.

Think it through. The prisoner will still be in his jail. Which must make him a body double of some kind...

"There was something else about the Lich, wasn't there? Something off?"

"Yeah, there was actually, Hers--I mean, CASCADE..." Her voice dips. "That old Lich guy looks exactly like that old Luzian guy Tempo was dealing with."

Alternative wording

"Yeah, there was actually, Hers--I mean, CASCADE..." Her voice dips. "That old Lich guy looks exactly like that old Dante guy Tempo was dealing with."

"What was the Lich like? Up close?"

"Not all that. His hands were shaking. Took him two goes to get the flame up."

THEIR GRAND LICH FEARS YOUR HUMBLE BULLET.

"And you're sure they didn't make you?"

"Dead sure. I'm just some kid ditching school. I got within a foot of him, you should've just let me take the fucking shot."

Actually not... a bad plan. Oh well.

She would be vaporised by return fire in seconds.

"Reckless."

"I like to look the enemy in the eye. And I did -- The old guy reached over with a lighter. Said he liked my badge." She touches the pin-badge over her heart.

"Not if you can't tell me how many there were. Then it's just a wasted move."

"I can tell you the old Lich guy is definitely there. He reached over with a lighter. Said he liked my badge." She touches the pin-badge over her heart.

"Really done your homework on the terminology there."

"Uh... target sat upstairs surrounded by... other targets. Good enough?"

"I'll make sure it's instructive."

"Whatever. School can get fucked."

"YO-YO. Are you allowed to smoke in here?"

"'Fuck do I care? I'm playing a role." She exhales in your face. "Delinquent youth."

ALL IS NOT LOST! A COURAGEOUS ACT OF DEFIANCE AGAINST THE TRAM BOSSES. LONG LIVE THE VICES OF THE PROLETARIAT.

"Hello CRYPTONYM TBD."

"TBD?"

"Melita's call. I was powerless to stop her."

"Raging bitch."

"The Opera has unfortunate naming conventions."

"Sounds like you just went bust thinking of one. Maybe you haven't got it anymore. Kind of fucking sad."

"My high levels of 'it' are manifesting as we speak."

"At your age? Very delayed. Must be a slow learner."

"Definitely still have it."

"TBD."

"Don't say things like this to me right before we go on stage."

"Keep up, CASCADE. Some of us are already on."

"No one thinks you'll last long enough to get a real one."

"Whatever."

No witty retort -- caught her with a stiff jab.

"Hello YOUNGBLOOD."

"Thought I was pretty explicit on that name. Red line fucking issue."

"No. Old me was correct me: YOUNGBLOOD it is."

"Understood. Let me know if you ever decide to do something cool, I want to be there to witness it."

"Yes, hello there."

"Still no cryptonym for me, I take it?"

"I'm working on it, don't worry."

"Cool. My confidence in my lead is unbound."

"No one thinks you'll be around long enough to need one."