Part Four: Frost

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        They'd finally cleared out the D-25 Dead Zone, and Frost was about to go do some volunteer work for Saint Luke's Hospital when McGee gave him a call on his cell. He still had bars and good internet service this week, which he was glad for. He liked to keep up on his current events and his social network.

        "I've got a job for you. But it's not a Class A assignment."

        "I'm in." Frost prided himself on his loyalty. If McGee was willing to do a job for a few hundred dollars instead of e-funds then so was he.

        "Good. I already talked to Travis and Trickler. I had to promise Travis that he could kill any necromutants that we came across to get him to join in. I swear that man's never gonna stop being a hatemonger. Doesn't that bother you?"

        "Some people are like that. As long as he doesn't come after me I think we should be fine."

        "Meet me at the Prospect in 10 minutes."

        "I'll be there."

                                                                                #

        The Prospect of Westport was a nice place to hang out.

        Mercenaries, especially those good enough to get certain results didn't go there. Neither did hit men or most retired soldiers. Why McGee wanted them to meet there didn't make any sense, but then again he only questioned orders that involved him killing an innocent person.

        Travis and Trickler arrived after a couple more minutes.

        "What's the job?" Travis asked.

        "Search and rescue. Someone hit the CDC in south KC and we need to find a dozen venom babies before whoever did this weaponizes them."

        "Isn't that the FED's job?" Trickler asked.

        "They're still twiddling thier thumbs, trying to figure out who should be in charge of the mission."

        "Alright. Let's go."

        They first headed to the CDC building, which no longer had a front door, just some burnt out hole where it had once been. the CSIs had arrived, and had driven everyone out, so there were a lot of people from several different departments, all talking amongst themselves.

        "Do you know of any Casino Lords who might do something like this?" McGee asked.

        "No. This is more like a black market slave-trade sort of thing. Those in charge of the casinos and thier subsidiaries are more about spying on thier customers while covering thier own asses. And I don't have any black market contacts that I am aware of." Frost said. If they wanted to sidestep HIPPA or find out the results of a particular medical test, he knew what to do, but he was no slave trader.

        "I do. But we need to go to Dark Midian." Travis said.

        Frost didn't look forward to going to Dark Midian. He was more of an intellectual than those who normally went there, and the undying type necromutants who owned that Trade Zone didn't really like him very much because he never spent any money while he was there.

        And so he followed McGee and the others as they got into McGee's SUV and drove into Dark Midian. They passed the dead zone between New Midtown and Dark Midian, noticing a group of 5 men beating the crap out of someone who most likely didn't deserve it. McGee drove on. Once upon a time they might have done something about that, but the Getting-rolled-in-an-alley ruse had been used too many times before on other security teams. It was a favorite of gangs and ex-military patchwork soldiers who'd gone too long without eating.

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