Silent Partners

If you'd asked her, Agent Carla West wouldn't have approved of the car she was using for her current assignment. The brand-spanking-new Shelby was nice and all, but it also stuck out like a sore thumb in her opinion. However, her partner had picked the car, and she wasn't in a position to argue with him on his choice. Besides, since she'd been on this op, there'd been plenty of other vehicles going past which had helped soften her opinion somewhat.

She'd been sitting in the aforesaid car for some time now, watching one particular warehouse and waiting for her contact to give her a call. Obstinately, she was undercover, engaging in a high-risk meeting with a criminal. She wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, and for there to be no complications. Weather that actually happened was another matter, of course, so it helped to plan ahead.

"No immediately visible lookouts." She casually commented into her hands-free communicator, looking over the warehouse for the dozenth time. "Security seems to be the normal setup too; cameras, mesh fence, the usuals. In other words, not what you'd expect from this sort of an operation."

"Nothing unusual on this end either." Her partner's voice came back. "Electronic noise is silent. I think these guys are relying on reputation to keep people out more then anything else."

"Works for me." Carla agreed. "So we just hang tight and… aha!" She cut off the signal as her mobile rang, a private number showing up in the caller box. "Gabrielle Campbell speaking." Her tone was succinct and businesslike, not the slightest hint of expression.

"Your goods are ready." The electronically distorted voice on the other end of the line replied. "Come to the warehouse, alone." The line hung up before she could say anything else.

Shrugging to herself, Carla reactivated her communicator. "That's my cue. I'll signal you when I'm ready, okay? And you don't need to worry; I'm sure I can handle whoever's in there otherwise"

"Well take care then, little lady." Her partner replied, an obvious cowboy slur in his voice which caused her to laugh. "And if them here ornery varmints give you any trouble, just gimmie a holler."

Suppressing her urge to giggle like a silly schoolgirl, Carla instead switched to her professional face, Leaving the car (Her partner would make sure that it being stolen wasn't an issue, but given what she was going into, it was the least of her concerns), weaving in and out of a few other parked vehicles to make observing her that extra bit harder. Convinced she was in the clear, she headed across the road, stepping towards the fence surrounding the warehouse.

There was a man on-site, a scruffy but otherwise nondescript, a phone in one hand and a gun on his hip. She nodded to him, the man giving a brief affirmation into his phone before opening the gate. As she stepped in, Carla continued to survey the warehouse; rusted drums and rotted packing crates were cluttering the forecourt, giving the place a look of run-down neglect that had helped to shield what was going on inside.

Once in the door, she was confronted by a second man; big, burly and clearly not the brains of the outfit. "Check her." He ordered, the smaller man gleefully frisking Carla without a moment's hesitation, It was a part of the job that she had long learned to accept, even if she didn't like it. "Phone, gun." The smaller man finally spoke up, handing the devices over to his compatriot.

Both were accepted parts of the job; a weapon for self-defence and a way to stay in contact. However, that didn't mean that a potential contact would be happy with it. "You'll get these back when we're done, and not before." The big guy snarled. Again, standard procedure, acceptable risk and all. Nothing to worry about, especially given that they hadn't found her actual communicator.

The pair of them led her into the warehouse proper, Carla's eyes taking in her surroundings as she walked, quickly summing up what she found. There were two other men in the room; the first was a large thug, again probably just brainless muscle. The second was more interesting, a scarred man with a thick moustache, his clothes more military-looking then the street ware that everyone else here was clad in.

Her mind matched his face to the details from the briefing; Carlos Espanza, gun-runner and part-time revolutionary, though the latter seemed to be a side-business to the former. His specialty was not bulk numbers or amounts, but rather more specific orders for exotic or otherwise hard-to-obtain weapons, which was what had bought Carla here.

Aside from him, there were two other things that caught her eye. The first was to be expected; the heavy metal cases that would be containing the weapons that she was (allegedly) here to purchase. It was what had bought her into contact with him in the first place, and the reason why he'd popped up on the agency's radar. That the weapons were here meant that she had the evidence she needed, but there was always the important confirmation first.

The second thing, however, was most incongruous to the point of jarring. A bright orange Honda Civic, the car was clearly someone's pride and joy. Covered in garish decals and outfitted with an aftermarket body kit, someone had doubtless spent a lot of time and money on being exceedingly cruel to the car. Of course, what it was doing here was another matter; she had some theories, and she didn't like where they were going.

"Miss Campbell." Espanza began, his tone blunt and business-like. "We meet at last. My men told me of your interest in what I had to offer." He was looking her in the eye, his glare intense. "I am the largest distributor of these specialty items in the country. You were well-advised to come to me."

"I only deal with the best." She replied, a hint of compliment in her voice. "Those who are able to make good on their promises, deliver what's asked of them. With that in mind, I'd like to take a look at the merchandise"

"But of course." He agreed. "You would be a fool not to. One must always know what one is dealing with."

"And a satisfied customer is a repeat customer" She agreed

A nod of the head saw one of the thugs open a case, presenting its contents to Espanza. He took out the weapon, holding it in both hands. It could be called a rifle, simply by the dint of its rough size and shape. Sleek and comprised of a dull metal, its surface was broken up by brilliant green displays. "Nice." She whistled, clearly impressed.

"Plasma energy rifles." He explained. "High-output, effective against heavy armour up to and including a modern MBT. The barrel is reconfigurable to different settings; the first is for full-automatic fire like a regular assault rifle. The second has a narrower beam, giving greater accuracy over longer ranges with no loss of offensive power. The third generates a coherent energy ball that explodes on impact, saturating the area around it with energy."

"So assault, sniper and rocket launcher configurations. Got it." She nodded. "How is it powered?"

"Detachable power cell in the stock." He explained. "It is good for two hundred shots, and can be adapted to charge of any power source. You can charge it off of a wall socket if you like, but that will take a lot of time."

"Interesting. May I?"

"Of course." He handed her the rifle, Carla taking it and giving it a heft. "Lightweight too..."

"And security locked with a code to prevent it from being used against you." He finished. "The rifles are not active at the moment. The codes will be provided to you once they are in your hands."

"And can't be used against you." She finished. "Clever."

"In my line of work, I take precautions." He acknowledged. "Too many of my associates have died by their own goods. However... that is not going to be the case here."

"Of course." Carla finished, handing the weapon back to the thugs. "So two dozen as we agreed?"

"Indeed." He nodded. "And the money?" Behind him, the weapon was packed away, remaining on top of the stack.

"When you're ready, I'll signal my partner to come round for the pick up. You get your money then." She nodded to the largest of the thugs. "If I may?"

Espanza nodded to the thug, who handed her back her phone – but not her gun. Again, as expected.

"Thanks." She finished, taking the phone and hitting the call button. That in and of itself wasn't doing anything, but rather her communicator was, sending a quick tone to her partner. "Okay, we're done. Come in for the pickup." This was possibly the riskiest part of the whole operation, where the most could go wrong.

"She's with them!" A voice called out from somewhere in the room, one she'd heard before – the electronically distorted one on the phone. She knew instantly where it had come from, and who was speaking – and that it hadn't been distorted.

The Civic's body wavered, its panels breaking apart and re-aligning themselves as its body began to shift and reform. The vehicle seemed to grow, becoming more humanoid in shape, parts of its chassis changing to arms and legs, its body becoming more akin to a torso, and a head growing out from the parts, one dominated by angry red eyes. In the centre of its chest, framed by what had once been the halves of its bonnet, was a single insignia, a purple crest that was all too familiar to her.

"Who sent you?" The robot shouted out, its arm reconfiguring into a weapon similar to those she'd been handling, only scaled to its frame. "Where are they?"

Espanza looked genuinely surprised at this betrayal, glancing at the robot as if to confirm his statement before looking back at her. "Who are you working for?" He demanded, his tone angry not at her but at his being deceived. His thugs were likewise stepping back rather then pressing the situation, each of them figuring their own part in setting up this deal and the consequences of letting an enemy agent in.

And for all that, Carla remained remarkably calm for staring down four men and an alien robot. "Like I said, boys, my partner is on his way. Just sit tight."

Almost on cue, the warehouse door exploded in, a second robot smashing through it. Bigger then the first, the blue and white panels on its body suggested the Shelby that she was sitting in before while a bulky weapon made up its lower right arm. The orange robot whirled around bringing its gun to bear, but finding instead that it was just a second to slow, a shot blasting into its midsection, scattering parts across the back wall of the warehouse.

Around it, the men chose that moment to break and flee, their morale and confidence shattered by the sudden assault. Carla took the chance, grabbing her pistol from where the thug had left it. "Don't move," she yelled as she levelled it at Espanza, the arms dealer stopped dead in his tracks, slowly reaching for a pistol himself. "Drop it! Now!"

Behind her, the orange robot, wounded but not out of action, raised its own gun, only to be battered by a blow from its larger rival. The weapon discharged, a ball of energy tearing through the air before blasting into the wall behind the arms dealer. Cowed by the explosion, he ducked, looking up in fear rather then at Carla. Either worked.

A metallic crashing noise echoed through the room as the orange robot collapsed, its face pummelled in by a heavy metal fist. "So that..." She added, her tone almost cocky. "Is my partner. So now, we're going to take you, your men, your guns and your associate there for a little ride where you're going to do some explaining, okay?

Espanza simply nodded, clearly not wanting to do anything that might put him at risk

"Nice work there, partner." She added, a satisfied smirk in her voice

"Think nothing of it, little lady." The robot replied, its face grinning with the same satisfied smirk as she was feeling.