I need guns. I’m not talking regular guns, I need guns to plow people with. The kind of gun that shoots bullets the size of a small compact car, and delivers micro-fiber at terminal velocity. I need guns that will take out a wall and anything else behind it for a good seventeen feet. I need guns that will let me point and click, and drag, and then tuck it away knowing that if anything is still standing in the room, it’s me and whoever I didn’t point at. In short, I need big mofo gunss. And I’ll need to upgrade my hardsuit. This thing is getting old. Maybe something made of thermal cast composite. And knives. I’ll need knives. Something in the playful-but-lethal range. And I need to find a place that has it all. And I know just the place. The problem with CD3 is that they’re only research branch of the CD. The problem with that is that they don’t actually have any models that are issued for use to agents. If the product works it gets subcontracted to a producer and we might get it in our arsenal after a year. And now for the good news.If Ravine’s info is correct, they place isn’t sealed as well as outsiders would think. I have access to CD, I have access to CD3. I own their asses. They just don’t know it yet.

How the hell is this even possible. Bet you didn’t count on this did you. I’m about to perpetrate a crime so big and nice in planning, that I should have been shot double tapped at center mass a good few hours ago. Are they really that stupid? Yet here I am, cruising along in my Sayem about to pay a little visit to the CD’s more private parts. The parts I just love to get personal with. The parts that go click followed by, ideally, a large explosion and a hitcounter spinning the bodycount. Was I always this violent? Maybe I used to be a cute little girl that was as innocent as the driven snow before you mindfucked me and ripped every vein apart in order to enhance it. Maybe.. and maybe I am used to be carefree and living in a house with the people I loved Before you rewired my cortex to inferface with the bionetworks you installed. And then maybe, just maybe, I knew happyness. Maybe. Or maybe I was always the freak I am now, and whenever the hell I figure out what really happened I’ll be blasting off your face and point and laugh.

CD main entrace

Time for a little stroll. CD access granted No shit, I work here. Nice glowing green button for 3rd floor. I’m glad I convinced them to turn off the elevator music. It was bad for their health. White halls. First left, second door on the left. Helloooo mr. Gunsmith. Don’t you always wonder why a CD officer walks in. I want those guns you idiot, why else would CD7’s top agent come down here to talk to the waste I usually flush through the shredder in the morning. It’s always interesting to hear them protest. I’m sure I can pull rank on him. But instead let’s try a different approach. Yeah, I bet that makes you interested in giving me those guns. One piece of fabric for one gun. How many you got. Twelve you say. I get to pick the guns. He still doesn’t mind. Alright then. Off with the clothing, open with that hidden wallpanel. Oh dear, he seems to be upset that I know that’s there. He should have thought about my analysis circuitry before he made a deal with me. I’ll take these 12. Keep the cloths. Not like I don’t have a spare outfit in this building anyway. And thanks for the handheld cannons. I’m sure they’re going to come in useful.

guess I’ll come back here tonight, the code to that wallpanel was too easy. There has to be more to get. And if they refuse, well...

pop goes the weasel.