SIV Endgame: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions

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=== On-field briefing and the Liquidator ===
=== On-field briefing and the Liquidator ===
The unit formed up under the trees. The choppers hung low: they made a devilish din and rucked up the tree-top foliage.  
The unit formed up under the trees. The MCA choppers hung low: they made a devilish din and rucked up the tree-top foliage.  


Bundie clamped a hand over his hat and bellowed over the racket: “This could get ''tasty'', lads. Hostiles in these parts are well-organised and well-armoured: [[limited recourse]] shielding fore and aft.”
Bundie clamped a hand over his hat and bellowed over the racket: “This could get ''tasty'', lads. Hostiles in these parts are well-organised and well-armoured: [[limited recourse]] shielding fore and aft.”


Tucker chomped on his cheroot. He split a toothy grin and patted his barrel.   
Tucker chomped on his cheroot. He split a toothy grin and patted his barrel. It was one ungainly bastard. It had some universal dock on the magazine.   
 
The comlink chattered. It was [[Cassandra Lieberman|Cassie Lieberman]] from the Risk Office. “Heads up, fellas: we are reading thin-cap [[espievie]] operatives in the area. Aural vector says they are headed your way. Margin up, people.”


“Ain’t no pissant [[Repackaging vehicle|LRV]] going get in the way of ''this'' honey. I call it the ''Liquidator.''”  
“Ain’t no pissant [[Repackaging vehicle|LRV]] going get in the way of ''this'' honey. I call it the ''Liquidator.''”  


It was one ungainly bastard. It had some universal dock on the magazine.
“What the hell is ''that'', Tucks?” said Frenchie. “Did you make eet at ’ome?”  
 
“What the hell is ''that'', Tucks?” Frenchie chuckled. “Home-made?”
 
Tucker shrugged. “It’s a [[Prime brokerage agreement|P.B.A.]] It’s got ''herbs'', my dudes. Multi-calibre. Universal [[master netting agreement|netter]].”
 
“BP? A Blue Peter job?” Chippy roared.


“P. B., As in ''Prime Breaker'', baby. I had it built to custom spec in the [[Linklaters|Links]] chop shop. It’s got stocks, recalls, [[dynamic margin|telescopic margin]] lending, [[Initial margin|I.M. recalibration]] real time. Have a go at this baby —”  
Tucker shrugged. “It’s a [[Prime brokerage agreement|P.B.A.]] It’s got ''herbs'', my dudes. Multi-calibre. Universal [[master netting agreement|netter]]. It’s got stocks, recalls, [[dynamic margin|telescopic margin]] lending, [[Initial margin|I.M. recalibration]] real time. I had it built to custom spec in the [[Linklaters|Links]] chop shop.” He handed it to Chippy. “Have a go at this baby —”


He handed it to Chippy. Chippy waved it about.  
Chippy waved it about.  


Tucker ducked and swayed. “Whoa, man, Just point that bad boy the fuck away from ''me''.”  
Tucker ducked and swayed. “Whoa, man, Just point that bad boy the fuck away from ''me''.”  
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The air boiled. The boys hit the deck. There was an unholy blam and a wolf of blue flame. Chippy flew ten feet back and landed in a heap. Tucker flapped smoke away and spluttered.  
The air boiled. The boys hit the deck. There was an unholy blam and a wolf of blue flame. Chippy flew ten feet back and landed in a heap. Tucker flapped smoke away and spluttered.  


“''Jesus''.
“''Jesus!''”


Eighty feet hence, the charred stump of a beach palm smouldered. Forty feet beyond that, what was left of the rest of it crackled and smoked on the sand. A cloud mushroomed above the clearing.  
Eighty feet hence, the charred stump of a beach palm smouldered. Forty feet beyond that, what was left of palm of it crackled and smoked on the sand. A cloud mushroomed above the clearing.  


Frenchie chuckled. Biff whistled. Chippy was out cold.
Frenchie chuckled. Biff whistled.


Tucker grinned, slapped Chippy’s chops and brought his buddy back topside.
Chippy was out cold.
 
Tucker grinned, slapped Chippy’s chops and brought his buddy back up topside.


“You like? Huh?”
“You like? Huh?”


The black mushroom wooded and dissipated. Bundie scrambled to his feet, glaring. “Jesus, Tucker! You’ll kill the lot of us! They’ll see that blast signal for miles around!”
Chippy, prone, moaned. The black mushroom woofed and dissipated.  


The comlink chattered. It was Cassie Lieberman from the Risk Office. “Heads up: thin-cap [[espievie]] operatives in the area, Bundie. Vector says they are headed your way. Margin up, people.
Bundie scrambled to his feet, glaring. “Jesus, Tucker! You’ll kill the lot of us! They’ll see that blast signal for miles around!


=== The SIV advance ===
=== The SIV advance ===
Beyond the dunes: a low, mechanical clanking. It sounded heavy. It sounded relentless. It sounded ''huge''. It sounded like a max-vol slice of hell.
On cue, beyond the dunes: a low, mechanical clanking. It sounded heavy. Relentless. ''Huge''. It sounded like a max-vol slice of hell.


“We have ears on it, Cass.”
“We have ears on it, Cass.”


The clanking ramped up.
The clanking ramped up.
Chippy, still prone, groaned.


“What ze hell is ''zat''?” said Frenchie.
“What ze hell is ''zat''?” said Frenchie.


“Oh, ''great''. They’re on to us.” Bundie re-glared at Tucker. He held up a paw. “O.K., this is [[Top urgent]] now, boys. Hostiles are imminent.”
“Oh, ''great''. They’re on to us.” Bundie re-glared at Tucker. Tucker shrugged.


The boys shucked their [[Master Securities Lending Agreement|MSLA]] and formed a circle round Chippy.
Bundie held up a paw. “O.K., this is [[top urgent]] now, boys. Hostiles are imminent.


Chippy came around slow. Tucker face-dashed him from a canteen. Chippy moaned.  
The unit shucked their [[Master Securities Lending Agreement|MSLAs]] and formed a circle round Chippy. He came around ''slow''. Tucker face-dashed him from a canteen. He moaned.


Bundie said, “We got an ID yet, kiddo?”  
Bundie said, “We got an I.D. on the SICAV yet, kiddo?”  


The radio operator was a kid of barely eighteen. He ran a [[redline]]. “A ... a ... rel ... reloadable [[MTN]] c ... c ... configuration of s ... some sort, sir. P ... p ... programmable, most likely.”
The radio operator was a kid of barely eighteen. He ran a [[redline]]. “A ... a ... rel ... reloadable [[MTN]] c ... c ... configuration of s ... some sort, sir. P ... p ... programmable, most likely.”
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We ... we ... we are detecting background heat signature of — ”
We ... we ... we are detecting background heat signature of — ”


“Of? Well, come on: spit it out lad.”
The lad stopped.
 
“Of? Well, come on: spit it out, lad.”


“A [[Family office|GFO]].”
“A [[Family office|GFO]].”


Frenchie let out a low whistle. “Une family office? In Cayman? ’E is a long way from ’ome, ''avec certitude''.”
Frenchie let out a low whistle. “Une ''bureau-famille''? In Cayman? ’E is a long way from ’ome, ''avec certitude''.”
 
The clanking got real.


Bundie swept up the map. “We need to move off the beach, lads. And ''fast''.”
Bundie swept up the map. “We need to move off the beach, lads. And ''fast''.”


====SICAVs?====
====SICAVs?====
A huge MOU smashed through the pines. Its armoured turret swivelled and lined them up.  
The unit fanned. An [[Memorandum of understanding|MOU]] — a ''big'' bastard — smashed through the pines. Its armoured turret swivelled and lined them up.  


“Jesus. [[SICAV]]! ''Split''!”
“Jesus. [[SICAV]]! ''Split''!”
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“''Wait''.” Bundie sniffed the air. “Something’s — not — ''right''. They’re — it’s just — ”
“''Wait''.” Bundie sniffed the air. “Something’s — not — ''right''. They’re — it’s just — ”


But the boys didn’t wait. They weren’t listening. They smelled a firefight. They fanned out and pressed. In a co-ordinated sequence, they drew their [[ISDAs]] and banged in margin clips.  
But the boys didn’t wait. They weren’t listening. They smelled a firefight. They struck positions and pressed. In a co-ordinated sequence, they drew their [[ISDA Master Agreement|ISDAs]] and banged in margin clips.
 
Tucker and Frenchie went left. Biffer went right. Swart flicked off her vol damper and went charging in on foot with a sawn-off [[GMRA Anatomy|repo]].
 
Bundie stood motionless in the clearing. Adrenalin flooded his core. “Something’s not right, lads,” he muttered, but the boys were in the theatre and nothing he could do could change the course of conflict now.  


Tucker and Frenchie went left. Biffer went right. Swart kicked off her vol damper and went charging in on foot with a sawn-off repo.  
The unit kept advancing.  


Bundie stood motionless in the clearing. Adrenalin flooded his core. “Something’s not right, lads,” he screamed.
Only the Lance-Corporal even heard him. The boy stayed close. “What do you think it is, sir?


But the unit kept advancing.  
Bundie mussed the lad’s hair. “I dunno, son, but stay frosty — this is going to get sticky. Be prepared to move fast on my command. You may have to make some calls.  


The boy regarded him with a steeliness that took him aback.


Only the Lance-Corporal even heard him. The boy stayed close. He mussed the lad’s hair. “Stay frosty, son — this is going to get sticky. But be prepared to move fast. You may have to make some calls. I’ve your back, lad.”
“I’ve your back, lad.”


The boy regarded him with a steeliness that took him aback. “But who’s got yours, sir?”
“I know, sir. But who’s got yours?”


Bundie pressed a weapon into the boy’s hand. It was a late-model [[ISDA Master Agreement|ISDA]]. The boy gaped.
Bundie smiled at the impertinence. This was what he wanted in his unit. ''Spunk''. He pressed a weapon into the boy’s hand: a late-model [[ISDA Master Agreement|ISDA]]. The boy gaped.


“''You'' do, son. We stand, or fall, together.”  
“''You'' do, son. We stand, or fall, together.”  


The boy nodded.
The boy nodded. Again, with the steely stare.
 
At that moment the [[SICAV]]’s giant conduit tracks started rotating forward.
 
Biff called it: “Stand by: SICAV rolling.”


The issue/redemption protocols coughed into life with a belch of diesel.


At that moment the [[SICAV]]’s massive conduit tracks started ''rolling''.  
Frenchie yipped and cocked his F.B.F.


Biff called it: “Stand by: Incoming.”
Bundie barked, “hold it, Frenchie.”


Frenchie yipped. “Oh, come on, ''cherie'' — we ’ave a little fun, ''n’est-ce pas''? —”
“Oh, come on, ''cherie'' — we must ’ave a little fun, ''n’est-ce pas''? —”


Bundie shook his head. “Let’s hit the trees, boys.”  
Bundie shook his head. “Let’s hit the trees, boys.”  


What happened next would be with the boy for the rest of his life — a period which turned out to be far longer than, as he watched the disaster unfold, he held any hope of expecting to see. The caterpillars ate up the sand.  
Lance Corporal checked his DV and muttered co-ordinates into his comlink. What happened next would be with the boy for the rest of his life — a period which turned out to be longer than, as he watched the disaster unfold, he held any hope of expecting to see. The caterpillars ate up the sand.  


A SICAV should be no match for an experienced unit of seasoned killers like the Irregulars. [[SICAV]]s had mucho grunt on the flat and toted decent firepower — you couldn’t be casual with them at close quarters — but against anyone who knew what they was doing, they were easy pickings. They were unwieldy, slow, generally only adept at passive and retail conflict: ''limited'' downside protection against liquidity drains, underpowered in choppy markets — basically under-gunned. As such, they tended to be detailed with greenhorn sappers a fighting force could afford to lose.
A SICAV should be no match for an experienced unit of seasoned killers like the Irregulars. [[SICAV]]s had mucho grunt on the flat and toted decent firepower — you couldn’t be casual with them at close quarters — but against anyone who knew what they was doing, they were easy pickings. They were unwieldy, slow, generally only adept at passive and retail conflict: ''limited'' downside protection against liquidity drains, underpowered in choppy markets — basically under-gunned. As such, they tended to be detailed with greenhorn sappers a fighting force could afford to lose.