'You think they know something's up?'

Nate shrugged, strapping on a kevlar vest and buckling up his ammo belt, which, just for the day, included shock-sticks, gas canisters and a few spare Vaglocks.

'Half of their male employees never showed up today,' Nate mused at the huge Bluenorth Security guy who wore a numbered nametag that read Chester, 'Least not the ones who read the email blast. Reckon they can work it out from that. You've got the building on lockdown?'

Chester cocked his rifle and nodded. 'No way out except right by here. I'll leave six men posted on the outside.'

Nate scanned the rear parking and loading area around the back of the office block. Good enough, he thought. He lit up a cigarette and checked his TabPhone, wondering when, if ever, Wilkes would send the signal.

'One more thing,' Nate said dispassionately, 'we're working with Arrowheads.'

Chester rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of falling out of his head.

'Man, seriously?'

'Seriously. Wilkes wants a co-operative mission.'

'Fuck them knuckle-draggers. Half o' them aint even been in a real fight.'

'This isn't going to be any kind of fight. And we need the ordinary man on our side.'

'Politics aint my business.' Chester snorted. 'And that's what they are, ordinary. Dumb fuckers who gonna get themselves killed. Leave this shit to the professionals.'

Nate didn't have the patience to argue. 'Men like you are supposed to value orders.'

Chester puffed out his chest and squared his jaw.

'Damn right. I'm a vet.'

'Then this, Sergeant, is an order. Comply and co-operate with the Arrowheads, or you will be dismissed from future assignments.'

Chester softened, looking decidedly beaten. Nate didn't like to pull rank, but he knew how well Wilkes paid these guys. If the thought of losing their next paycheck didn't scare them straight, nothing would.

The rest of the Bluenorth guys had found a few old wooden palettes and were now using them as primitive seating. One of them played metal music from the loudspeaker on his TabPhone, possibly the way these guys geared up for combat. Combat, Nate sniffed. This would be more like cattle rustling.

A second heavy-duty hummer vehicle wheeled through the gap into the enclosed parking lot and pulled up next to the jet-black Bluenorth vehicle. The upturned arrow symbol splayed across the hood of the metal beast identified this as the Arrowhead contingent finally arriving.

Six men jumped out of all sides of the car. Immediately Nate could see the difference; where Bluenorth moved with a uniform and deliberate pace, formed up like a single unit, these Arrowheads scattered and stood around, craning their necks at the building above. They talked a lot, shouted questions back and forth. Even Nate knew their weapons - which they could have bought from any local gun store - were not safely secured. One of them, a short red-haired stick-man, had more knives on him than limbs. It was like introducing the Navy Seals to the A-Team.

'Hi there.'

Nate nodded in the direction of the man who seemed to be in charge. His khaki-coloured vest and desert-camo army boots gave him the look of an army reservist who thinks himself Commander-in-Chief. His name, Nate was pretty sure, was Rathers.

'How's the operation looking?' Rathers asked both Chester and Nate. They exchanged a glance.

'Nothing too serious, fellas.' Nate replied as Chester turned his back and barely suppressed a scoff. 'You won't need all that.'

Nate pointed at the M-16s and sniper rifles.

'And definitely not that.'

He jabbed a finger at the two guys carrying concussion grenades. Rathers bristled.

'I vouch for my men.'

'Yeah?' Chester spun around, secreting his gun behind his back, 'and who the fuck vouches for you?'

'Easy, easy!' Nate stepped in front of Chester, putting a hand on the big man's shoulder, 'Energy's good but we have to work together. This is a co-operative mission, but if I feel at any point one of you is a danger to the group, you'll be right back down here on traffic control.'

That shut them up. Most of the Arrowhead guys seemed less than happy about the situation, but Nate had bigger things to worry about.

His TabPhone had started to vibrate.

'Time to go,' Nate pulled on his comms helmet and spun his finger round in the air. 'On my signal, enter via the stairwell and sweep every floor.'

'Bluenorth, form up!' Chester yelled. He led his team in first. Rathers followed close behind, most likely furious that he had been given the runners-up position. Nate didn't care much. He let the men file in and break through the door on the first floor, walking at a leisurely pace up the stairs behind them.

'Female Control!' He heard the yell, then a dozen or so screams. There were running footsteps, the zap of shock-sticks, a few gunshot rounds, and more women screaming. When Nate walked out onto the first floor, Bluenorth had fully closed off every exit.

The floor was an open-space bullpen, complete with long rows of desks, computers, performance-monitoring marks on the walls, piles of paper reports. Half of the cubicles were already empty.

'Alright,' Nate nodded to Chester. 'I'll handle the arrests.'

He walked up to the first occupied cubicle. Inside was a young man, about twenty or so, with a look of sheer terror on his face. He didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off the guns or ammo belts. Nate clapped the lad on the back.

'Its alright, buddy. Go home if you want.'

The kid didn't need to be told twice. He was through the broken door so quickly he left a dust trail behind him.

The next cubicle contained a woman in her mid-forties with a brown bob on her head. She was cowering beneath the desk. Nate sighed and grabbed her by the scalp, dragging her out to be pinned down by a Bluenorth. The woman wailed and screamed as they bound her hands with a zip-tie.

'Too old,' Nate told Chester as he hauled the woman to her feet, 'take her out back and shoot her.'

Chester promptly handed the woman to one of his men and continued along the line.

'Bring up carry-cages!' Nate yelled to anyone not marking an exit, as he came upon a young and quite pretty girl. She was trembling, staring at the floor and seemed to have urinated on herself. Nate wrinkled his nose before pulling her up by the arm, turning her around and pulling her small black dress off her body. She was lithe, pale and smooth.

'This one's for the recreation wing,' he told Chester. 'You get the idea. Clear out the rest of this shit. Rathers!'

The Arrowhead Chairman approached Nate.

'Take your men and sweep the second floor. Follow my example.' He turned back to Chester, 'line up the rest of these and i'll take a look.'

Nate turned on his heel and walked out of the bullpen. When he returned to the stairwell he saw a long queue of men exiting the building, directed by sand-coloured Arrowhead guys. Most of these desk jockeys had their eyes downcast, trying to appear invisible as they made their sortie. A few cheered and whooped, high-fiving the Arrowhead guys.

'You guys are doing a great job!' One yelled as he passed the door to the first floor, deliberately loud enough for the women currently being rounded up to hear. Nate gave him a slap on the shoulder before heading up to the second floor.

As he drew up the stairs he heard shouting and commotion. The long narrow hallway leading off to the left was lined with women, all crying, trembling, hands behind their heads as they faced the wall. Two Arrowheads were moving down the line, stripping the women to complete nudity, while a man yelled at them.

'Get away from her!' He hollered with a red face as two Arrowheads fought to restrain him by a window-ledge. 'Don't you touch her!'

'What is this?' Nate quietly asked Rathers. Rathers shrugged.

'Think one of these is his wife,' He said, casting a finger down the line of bare female backsides, 'crazy guy won't listen.'

'Alright,' Nate looked at the Arrowheads still struggling to hold the man back, 'Sir, please co-operate with these men. Boys, find a private room, somewhere you can make coffee.'

The man's eyes bulged and hot angry air shot out of his mouth as he was virtually carried through into the now empty second-floor bullpen. Nate watched him go and then passed sentence.

'Give him a chance to co-operate. Tell him if he plays along he can visit her regularly and have exclusivity rights.'

'Are we doing that?' Rathers asked with a disapproving eyebrow.

'Sure we are. This is a transition, friend, not a coup. Exclusivity is available but for a price.'

Nate took a look at the women lined up. A few ugly girls, one or two were beyond useful age. Any of these he grabbed immediately and threw into the hands of an executioner. A handful were young, slender and cute, good enough for the cages, and two others looked strong enough for compound-building labour. He had the Arrowheads divide the women up accordingly before heading upstairs again.

The third floor was empty already; Arrowheads and Bluenorth were trying to outrun each other. Nate decided to let them do it. As he walked into the now deserted open office he trod on business reports, kicked aside waste-paper bins and stepped over electrical cables now shredded by gunfire.

He leant up against a wall, took a breath, and then lit up a cigarette. Surprisingly, he had not felt anything since entering the building. Not that he had expected to feel remorse - far from it - but he was not experiencing any joy, not even a hard-on, for what they were doing. It was like... well, like business. The fun of what he had done with Alyssa was, he now realised, all down to the chaotic nature of it. It was out of bounds, it contradicted his orders, it pissed off Wilkes. This was just like shipping boxes.

Then, faster than he could believe, it all hit him. It rushed up into his brain like an aneurysm, fierce and merciless. He felt as if he had shrunk ten inches, as if his skin was on fire. Tears streamed from his eyes and snot fell from his nose. He shook in silence, biting down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. At any moment, he knew, someone would walk through the door, see him, and declare him unfit to lead the operation.

Minutes passed and no-one came. There was still shouting, gunfire, screams, running, but less of it than there had been. Silence was taking control again. Silence was the default, and that terrified him. He wanted peace, he wanted to silence the screams, the hundred screaming voices that had stayed with him since that night in the forest. He wanted to blow those screams out of his mind. He wanted to... Jesus.

He wiped the fluid from his face and shook himself. All at once the screaming stopped.

'Gone too far,' he said quietly to himself, 'too far to go back now.'

A door opened. He spun his head around to the stairwell, but there was no-one there. From the corner of his eye he saw someone standing in a doorway to a conference room, a woman. She had black hair like Alyssa, a pretty face and thin arms. She looked terrified, and yet and the same time, concerned.

'What's wrong?' She asked.

Nate sniffed, coughed, raised his rifle and shot her in the head.