<<<16 Feb 2057, 14:21—Divided Assets>>>

Fate is getting more and more perverse as we continue with this run.

After arriving at our safehouse, we settled down in hope that perhaps we could get some rest before the inevitable occurred. Tempers are a bit short all around; Ocelot is understandably on edge (apparently more so than I, which is a bit odd), and so is 'Wraith. Only Joe seems to be unaffected. While attempting to prepare dinner from the uninspiring stores stocking the safehouse and the contents of his pack, Joe forgot the fact that 'Wraith can't eat meat (a fact about which 'Wraith is quite displeased), resulting in 'Wraith's becoming more edgy than usual. Our young charge is not making things any easier either-- I feel rather sorry for the little chap, if his comments are any indication of the level of regimentation in his life. He seems incapable of dealing with any deviation from his prescribed routine: for example, he became upset when he discovered that he would have to sleep in his clothes, as opposed to pyjamas. Joe attempted to talk with him and succeeded in making things worse; between 'Wraith and me, we managed to get him calmed down and to sleep. Ocelot studiously avoided him, while Joe busied himself pulling appliances around to block the back door.

We called our fixer to check on the progress of some of the items we'd asked for previously, and informed him that we would need some supplies (extra clothes and whatnot) for the boy. It was at this point that Joe succeeded in putting his oversized foot in his oversized mouth. I can't blame him--it was a perfectly logical thing for him to say. There was no way for him to know that suggesting that I was the obvious choice to pretend to be the boy's father was without doubt the last thing I wanted to hear. I didn't handle it very well--I don't think 'Wraith and Ocelot did either. I don't know, though; I told the fixer I'd call him later and decided to investigate one of the back bedrooms. I suppose I'll have to tell Joe at some point; I almost wish 'Wraith or Ocelot would do it. It would certainly be easier on me, and then perhaps Joe would stop blundering innocently into exactly the wrong questions to ask me. I need to stop being so bloody sensitive about it.

We all retired to our respective positions and watches. The strike team, when it did finally show up, was quite well-organised. There were two mages (one of whom had a rather nasty fire elemental in his command) and two mundanes, all striking at different parts of the house. Since I was in the room with our charge, I got the fire elemental. It kept me busy (along with Ocelot) for awhile, but at last Ocelot wisely decided to take the fight to the source and went after the mage, leaving me to contend with the elemental. Joe and 'Wraith were off dealing with the two mundanes, one at each end of the house. Lucky 'Wraith: he also got to deal with the second mage.

It was a difficult fight, but we did manage to prevail. I'd almost killed the elemental when Ocelot killed the mage, whereupon the elemental decided to return to its home plane. 'Wraith killed the second mage and Joe took care of his opponent, an ork. This left only the last mundane, a samurai, who grabbed the dead mage and headed for his truck. By this time, the house was beginning to catch fire, so I grabbed the boy and his backpack and made for the front of the house, where the others were taking shots at the retreating samurai. A Slay Human spell ended his retreat; 'Wraith ran out to retrieve the samurai's sniper rifle, only to be caught in the explosion when the truck went up. Fortunately, he survived. Ocelot brought our van around and we grabbed a couple of the fallen strike team (sans their bugged helmets) and left quickly.

To shorten a long and tedious story, we contacted our fixer and told him we'd need another safehouse, which he promised to provide. After disposing of the bodies of our opposition (I took the boy for a short walk while all but the arm of one of the strike team became acquainted with a large body of water), we headed to an all-night store to procure some supplies and then off to the new safehouse. Our fixer has informed us that our snatching of the boy made the evening news, but the trid he provided showed that they have very little clue about who actually did the job. The best shot they got of any of us was of Joe's back, and the other shots were of people who weren't even on the team. Still, though, wisdom suggests that we keep low (and especially that we keep the boy well hidden, since his face is all over the news). Perhaps we can manage to complete the remainder of this run without being attacked again. I'm not sparing any hope for that, however.