The rain was coming down hard, thick sheets of water drumming against the corrugated metal roof of the warehouse. Inside, it was dim and smelled of old oil and dust. Crates were stacked high, casting long, distorted shadows in the weak light filtering through grimy windows. A single hanging bulb flickered overhead, its buzzing a counterpoint to the relentless downpour outside.

Simone stood near the center of the space, her back to a tall stack of wooden containers. She wore a sleeveless, dark combat suit, the fabric slick with condensation from the damp air. The gleam of metal was visible at her joints – elbow, shoulder and knee. Her katana was sheathed at her hip, and a heavy magnum rested in a holster on her thigh. She looked restless, shifting her weight from foot to foot, a low hum of impatience vibrating in the air around her.

"You're late," Simone says as you arrive "What kept you?"