I charged for the stairs like a wild animal, throwing people to the side as I thundered to the ground floor. Pushing my way through the crowd I made my way over to the bar again, where Jerro was busy pouring a glass of Krowbar for someone. I watched the glass fill up and it felt like a reverse sand timer, where the grains were filling rather than running down.

'Jerro,' I called, trying to grab his attention. I could feel my heart rate beginning to build now, everything beginning to go into a state of high alert. I felt the same way as I had done when Markro and I had gone into that warehouse in the Black Milestone Area of Region 18. Stood there trying to get his attention, every pore in my body beginning to itch, I remembered that feeling I'd had before of a storm on its way. I didn't know if this was the storm itself, but it was definitely a strong enough wind to need to batten down the hatches and run for the storm hold.

Finally, Jerro the barman turned his attention to me. 'What is it? Another Krowbar?'

'No,' I said, throwing a quick glance back over to the dance floor. 'I'm from Dirty Work.'

He looked at me for a second, and then clicked his fingers at me. 'I thought I recognised you.'

'Listen, no time to explain. Lock everything down. I think something's going to go off in here. As in, gunfire off in here.'

I waited for him to look at me as if I was a complete idiot. I waited for him to wave me away, to turn to the next person in line waving a note at him and begging to be served. Instead he locked gazes with me and saw I wasn't lying. He waved his head over to the floor to tell me to go do what I could. Silently I praised him for not being one of the morons that Celestria seems to be teeming with.

I pushed away from the bar, trying to get towards the floor. The stench of sweat and piss grew stronger as I delved into thicker, denser crowds. It was hard to hear myself think, let alone hear if there was anything going off, but I was sure I still had time to find the girls that, I thought, were about to go and light up the club in a way that nobody had ever seen before.

I remember I started to, in the middle of everything, think of Red Rose, and wonder if the girls were part of that gang in any way. I didn't recall seeing anything about them that would have insinuated they were connected, and definitely didn't see the familiar insignia about their person anywhere. Added to that, I was sure that if someone on the door had seen anything that connected them to Red Rose, they would have been turned away or perhaps even reported to the authorities. But supposing they missed something? Supposing I missed something? Was it Red Rose that were about to launch another attack here?

All of this went through my mind within seconds, and vanished again just as quickly. I remember thinking all of it, but I didn't recognise it at the time because all of my senses were busy focused on trying to find that waterfall of gold hair that one of the girls had, or the scarlet skin of the other girl. I was a hunter now, tracking down my prey before it fled the scene or, worse to think of, I was taken out of the action.

I was pushed and thrown from side to side by the dancers, their slick leather and coarse skin nipping at me like someone flipping a kar from a highway. I looked not only at the tops of people's heads for the hair colour I was seeking so badly, but at their waists, their pockets, trying to see if anyone was bringing a firearm up to take someone out. I suddenly felt naked without my own 58 Alpha from the boss. It's strange how quickly I'd gotten used to having a gun on my person, and how quickly I got used to feeling its reassuring weight at my side. Now, not having it, I was floundering in a sea of bodies, trying to come up for air and breathe somewhere less noxious, and if something kicked off I had nothing to stop it with.

And then I spotted her hair.

Golden-Hair was moving through the crowd towards the back of the club. I couldn't see if her three companions were anywhere near, but I felt that they wouldn't be too far off. I wriggled through to get just behind her, and I saw that she wasn't in the mood to be getting down and dirty with the rest of the crowd. The guitars were shredding and the synths were jumping from place to place but the girl in front of me stayed as steady as a rock, moving in on a target I couldn't yet see. She was new to it, I could tell, from the focused way she moved. Markro, I had seen, closed in on a target in a way that didn't draw attention to herself. Whatever it was that Golden-Hair had been told to do, kill someone most likely, she hadn't done it before.

I might have a chance to stop this then, I told myself.

I moved behind her, a few feet away but always focusing on her hands, on her waist where I could see now, a bulge was underneath her jacket. The people dancing around her wouldn't have noticed it, even though she was pushing a gun right up against them, but I could see it. I could tell it was there, and for all her inexperience, someone had obviously set her up to do as well as possible, because although the outline of the weapon could be seen, it was only obvious if you were looking for it. At a glance, she would pass. Which she had done.

Golden-Hair looked around, checking to see where her friends were more than likely, and I turned away for a split second, jumping up and down to blend in with the surroundings. I turned back quickly though, scared that I would lose sight of her if I didn't keep a close watch on her.

I turned back too quickly however, and she stared right at me.

I smiled, bringing my left hand up and mimed a drink, winking at her. That better work, I thought, my heart beginning to pulse so violently now that I could feel the arteries in my wrist begin to bang against the skin. She turned away, but her movements were altered now. She began to force her way through the floor as opposed to simply slotting into the gaps that opened up around her.

'Shit,' I muttered to myself, and began to follow her again. I lost any interest in trying to follow her with any subtlety now. She'd had a plan, and it was starting to fall apart. I could almost feel the fear radiating from her with every step she made, and near the edge of the room she began to elbow people out of the way. I followed, keeping an eye on the gun at all times, waiting for her to draw it like a wannabe gunslinger and begin to fire at whoever it was she was stalking. I could see her looking this way and that, panic building up now. I didn't know who or what she was looking for, and I wasn't sure if they should be glad or terrified at this girl now feeling the pressure.

I saw her dart for the wall, where a door led to the outside. I broke free from the grip of the crowd, running after her and slamming the door open.

I sprinted down the corridor after her, thankful that she'd decided simply to abandon the plan and not begin shooting en-masse. She threw open the door at the end of the hallway and ducked into the night. My footsteps were hard, my breathing ragged already. By the time I got to the door she had escaped through, I saw her on the back of a Zoomus. Her getaway rider started the engine up and, before I could do anything, the two of them were off and out of the alleyway, fleeing into the night.