"Okay, what kind of gear?"
"I need to sign out a couple of carbines, some flechette canisters and AP grenade mags for my team," Fife said. "Anything will help."
"Who are you with, exactly?" Borrow weapons. Not likely.
"I'm with a contractor tac team assigned to City Center."
"The mall?"
"Yeah, the mall." His expression seemed as serious as his buzzed hair.
"You want carbines and grenades?" Aramis could barely believe he was hearing this.
"Did I stutter? The lockdown has hurt my deliveries. I'm short on gear I need for my job. The Army's useless. I figured you might be able to help."
"What are you guarding in a shopping center that takes grenades?" Bart asked, sounding amazed.
Fife drew himself up. "It's not just a shopping center. It's a major threat point for terrorism. You'd be amazed what goes on there. Kidnappings, some of them VIPs, black market gang deals. Assault and rape in the bathrooms."
"I can believe that," Bart said. "It is the 'mall tac team' concept I am having trouble with." He was smirking.
Fife got belligerent. "Go ahead, laugh, ahole. You have that luxury. Who do you think's going to respond if you're in trouble there? The police? Have you seen the police around here? The store security or any of the corp crowd? They'd not only wet their pants, they're terrified of a lawsuit or counterstrike. It's up to me and my team to keep order and peace. With the collapse of this society and the decay of morality this world is getting more and more dangerous daily."
"Wow. I don't know what to say," Aramis said. Diplomacy was essential when dealing with a potential loon. He was pretty sure this was a loon, but he wanted to be sure.
"Yeah, it's a pretty heavy job. I mean, I get paid for it, but you can imagine the responsibility."
"I'm just trying to figure out how you use this stuff amongst crowds of shoppers," Bart said.
"If we're discreet, no one notices. We have electric carts to cut response time, and two marksmen for backup. But it can get hairy fast. I'm wearing double plates in the armor"he rapped his chest"in case of multiple eight millimeter rifle strikes."
" 'Multiple eight millimeter,' " Aramis echoed.
This is almost as funny as the time Bun-Bun became a tank...
