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{{col3|{{a|opcobooneadventure|{{image|SIV|png|}}}}“When it came, the end-game came down fast and hard. It was in a skirmish with a rogue [[structured investment vehicle]] in the Caymans.  
{{a|opcobooneadventure|{{image|SIV|png|}}}}===Synopsis===
MCA drops remaining irregulars unit on the beach at Cayman brac. The mission is to liberate is a detachment of SICAVs help captive by enemy stocklending counterparts who are using it as a cheap source of sales credits.
===Prologue===
“When it came, the end-game came down fast and hard. It was in a skirmish with a rogue [[structured investment vehicle]] in the Caymans.”


=== Present ===
=== Beach landing ===
Bundie
Group Captain David Bundie set his jaw. He scanned the ragged remnants of his company, lined up on a pew and hooked into the [[static margin]] line. Of the original 60, seven soldiers remained. 


Biffer
The old [[MCA]] transporter was a Spartan crate. It rattled and droned and swept low across the water.


Chippy
The combatant units around the Cayman theatre were battle-hardened [[Limited liability company|LLC]]<nowiki/>s. They went right down the capital structure. Bundie mandated prep for [[Equity securities|stocks]]. Shoulder-mounted [[Master Securities Lending Agreement|Mizzlers]] and, in case of [[Agent lender|ALD]] cointel interference, a brace of bump-stock [[Pledge GMSLA|pledge model]]s. To handle [[synthetic equity swap|synthetic]] light arms, they packed with late-model [[2002 ISDA Master Agreement|ISDA]]<nowiki/>s retrofitted with [[dynamic margin]] [[CSA]]s.


Frenchie
And then there was Frenchie. He had an assortment of exotic continental fire-irons: an antique [[FBF]] side-loader, a vol-insulated CMOF and his trusty [[OSLA Anatomy|Osler]] if they really got in a jam.


Swart
Bundie addressed the line. “Okay, lads, this is it. Anyone who wants can stay —”


Tucker
They didn’t let him finish. They barked, “Sir! No, Sir!” in staccato unison. 


Lance Corporal i/c of Radio
They wouldn’t have it any other way: it was written in their eyes: it flowed wordlessly between them. They functioned like a single organism. Bundie looked down, shut his eyes and smiled. “All right, my lovelies, all right.”
{{indent|
=== Beach landing ===
Group Captain David Bundie set his jaw. He scanned the ragged company, lined up on a pew and hooked into the static margin line.


The [[MCA]] transporter was an antique Spartan crate. It rattled and droned and swept low across the water.  
The [[Confirmation - ISDA Provision|confirm]] squawked. The [[Close-out netting|netting flag]] flashed steady green.


“Okay, lads, this is it. Anyone who wants can stay aboard —”
“All right, lads, we’re over the target trade date. Let’s rock this”


The men, barked, “Sir! No, Sir!” in staccato unison. They numbered off by instinct. Of the original company of 60, nine remained.  
They set their [[IM]] dials to 20, shuffled along the cargo deck and numbered off as they dropped out of the [[Master Confirmation Agreement|MCA]].  


“THREE!”
Bundie said, “THREE.”


“SEVEN!”
Biff said, “SEVEN.”


“EIGHT!”
[[General counsel|Chip]] said, “EIGHT.”


“TWELVE!”
Swart said, “TWENTY-FIVE.”


“TWENTY-FIVE!”
Tucker said, “THIRTY-ONE.”


“THIRTY-ONE!”
The kid looked with the radio unit gulped. Just him and the Frenchman left.


“THIRTY-NINE!”
Frenchie grinned. “''Allez, garçon''.”  


“FORTY-SIX!”
The kid dithered.


“FIFTY-ONE!”
“Nervous?”


“SIXTY!”
The kid nodded.


They wouldn’t have it any other way: it was written in their eyes: it flowed wordlessly between them, when he met their collective gaze. They functioned like a single organism.
“First time?”


Bundie looked down, shut his eyes and smiled. “All right, my lovelies, all right.”  
The kid scowled. “I’ve been nervous plenty of times.” He bolted, hollering, “THIRTY-NINE.”


The [[Confirmation - ISDA Provision|confirm]] horn squawked. The [[Close-out netting|netting flag]] flashed green. The nine extant irregulars dropped out of the [[Master Confirmation Agreement|MCA]]. They set their [[correlation]] dials to 1.0 and went in [[delta-one]] configuration. They formed a tight landing pattern on the beach.  
Frenchie slapped the tin, yelled, “SOIXANTE-NEUF” and fell away towards the roiling combat theatre. The [[Master Confirmation Agreement|MCA]] clambered into the sky.


Frenchie was oldest in the company. He came down last. He snapped-off his chute and pulled a [[three-point hero drop]] in the high-tide flotsam. The boys yukked it up and moved out.
The lads fell through anti-avoidance flak and swingeing searchlights Their chutes bloomed with collateral as they struck their margin thresholds. They floated down in a tight pattern onto the beach.  


They were armed for [[Equity securities|stocks]]: their Cayman Corps adversaries were battle-hardened right down the capital structure: Bundie mandated shoulder-mounted [[Master Securities Lending Agreement|Mizzlers]] for all. In case of [[Agent lender|ALD]] cointel interference, they carried a brace of bump-stock [[Pledge GMSLA|pledge model]]s. For [[synthetic equity swap|synthetic]]<nowiki/>s cover, they backed it up with late-model [[2002 ISDA Master Agreement|ISDA]]<nowiki/>s retrofitted with [[dynamic margin]] [[CSA]]s.
The kid with the radio unit hit the deck first. Frenchie was last: with five feet to go he snapped-off a salute and pulled a [[three-point hero drop]] in the high-tide flotsam.  


Frenchie, of course, had his usual assortment of exotic concoctions: an antique [[FBF]] side-arm, an old CMOF and his trusty [[OSLA Anatomy|Osler]] if they really got in a jam.  
[[Rehypothecation|Rehypothecator]] choppers hung low: they made a devilish din, rucked up the tree-top foliage and drew attention from the unit. The boys yukked it up, packed up their ATEs and hit the tree-line.


=== 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 devilish din and rucked up the tree-top foliage.
The unit formed up under the trees.   


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''.”  
Line 84: Line 80:
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 palm 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 the rest of it crackled and smoked on the sand. A cloud mushroomed above the clearing.  
Frenchie chuckled. Biff whistled.


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


Tucker grinned, slapped Chippy’s chops and brought his buddy back topside.
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.  
 
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.


Something in the aural vectors said it was headed their way.
“We have ears on it, Cass.”
 
The clanking ramped up.
 
Chippy, still prone, groaned.


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


“Oh, fucking ''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 MSLAs 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.”
Line 115: Line 119:
“Thank-you, Lance-Corporal.”
“Thank-you, Lance-Corporal.”


Frenchie let out a low whistle.  
“And sir?”
 
“Yes, Lance-Corporal?”
 
We ... we ... we are detecting background heat signature of — ”
 
The lad stopped.
 
“Of? Well, come on: spit it out, lad.”
 
“A [[Family office|GFO]].”
 
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''.”


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


“Jesus. [[SIV]]s! ''Split''!”
“Jesus. [[SICAV]]! ''Split''!”


The unit spritzed. Swart ''whoooed''. She shucked her [[CSA]] and reloaded.
The unit spritzed. Swart ''whoooed''. She shucked her [[CSA]] and reloaded.


Biffer yeehaared. He banged in a clip of   
Biffer yeehaared. He banged in a clip of [[Credit-linked note|self-referencing CLNs]].  
 
Tucker blammed out some shells from the Liquidator. He had a mind to disorient the advancing vehicle and throw an indeterminacy curtain around the theatre. But the [[SICAV]] kept coming.


Tucker blammed out out some shells from the Liquidator. It disoriented the advancing machines and threw a curtain of indeterminacy around the theatre. The [[SIV]]s kept coming.
Frenchie flip-cocked his piece and hollered, “Oh-ho-ho, c’est la feeding time at ze zoo, ''mon cher''.”


Frenchie flip-cocked his piece and hollered, “feeding time at ze zoo, ''mon cher''.”  
“''Wait''.” Bundie sniffed the air. “Something’s — not — ''right''. They’re — it’s just — ”


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 struck positions and pressed. In a co-ordinated sequence, they drew their [[ISDA Master Agreement|ISDAs]] and banged in margin clips.  


But the boys weren’t listening. They smelled a firefight. They fanned out and pressed, intent on filling their boots.  
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]].  


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.  
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.  


Bundie stood motionless in the clearing. Adrenalin flooded his core. “Something’s not right, lads,” he screamed.  
The unit kept advancing.  


But the unit kept advancing.  
Only the Lance-Corporal even heard him. The boy stayed close. “What do you think it is, sir?”


=== Learning droid ===
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.  
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.”


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


Bundie pressed a weapon into the boy’s hand. It was a late-model [[ISDA Master Agreement|ISDA]]. The boy gaped.
“I’ve your back, lad.”
 
“I know, sir. But who’s got yours?”
 
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 [[SIV]]’s massive conduit tracks started ''rolling''.  
Frenchie yipped and cocked his F.B.F.


“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.  
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.
 
But ''this'' SICAV was odd. Bundie watched it from his foxhole: it was nimble, [[agile]], quick. The crew was more capable than your average UCITS infrantry unit: less predictable in their defensive manoeuvres. And the vehicle had a dramatically truncated reporting and compliance harness. The depo — there ''was'' no goddamn depo.  


[[SIV]]s had mucho grunt on the flat. The caterpillars ate up the sand. They toted decent firepower — you couldn’t be casual with them — but they were unwieldy bastards. They had ''limited'' downside protection against liquidity drains, were underpowered in choppy markets, and basically under-gunned. Against and anyone who knew what it was doing they were easy pickings. They should be no match for an experienced unit of seasoned killers like the Irregulars.
And Bundie realised as it thundered across the sand, this thing was ''fast''. Way too fast for an ordinary UCITS unit.


As such, tended to be staffed with greenhorn sappers an army could afford to lose. The industry slang for the poor suckers aboard a SIV were “expendables”.  
=== That’s no moon ===
The SICAV reoriented and rolled at Bundies’ exact position. It came steaming straight at him.


But ''this'' SIV was odd. Bundie surveyed it from his foxhole. It was more manoeuvrable: more agile, quicker; more professional, ''volatile'', less predictable in their defensive manoeuvres. The usual  reporting and compliance harness was dramatically cut down. There was no depo. And it was ''fast''.
The RO comlink crackled. ''Heads up boss, you got company.''
 
“I copy, Cassie”.  
 
“Shorts are starting to gett crowded, Bundie. Your team got the safeties off?”


Bundie hiffed in a percussive [[QIB]]. It blapped spectacular. It threw up dirt and sand and left a decent ditch. The SIV stopped on a dime. It backed up. Its front turret swivelled round and regarded the crater. A fire hose extended. and filled it with water. The SIV rolled over it.
Bundie hiffed in a percussive [[QIB]]. It blapped spectacular. It threw up dirt and sand and left a decent ditch. The SIV stopped on a dime. It backed up. Its front turret swivelled round and regarded the crater. A fire hose extended. and filled it with water. The SIV rolled over it.


“Holy hell,” muttered Tucker. “Self-sourcing liquidity. That's pretty cool.”
“Holy hell,” muttered Tucker. “Self-sourcing [[liquidity]]. That's pretty cool.”
 
Bundie thought, ''that's more than “cool”. That’s ''unbelievable''. Where the hell is it sourcing that cash?'' Then Bundie knew it: ''this was no ordinary [[SICAV]]''.
 
Chip said, “Throw in another. They have limited reserves. They can’t do that indefinitely.”


Bundie thought, ''that's more than “cool”. That's unbelievable. Where the hell is it sourcing that cash?'' Then Bundie knew it: ''this was no ordinary [[SICAV]]''.  
“Wait — ” Bundie muttered.


“Throw in another. They have limited reserves. They can’t do that indefinitely.”
But Tucker was fast. He bit off the pin and tossed in another [[QIB]]. “Roll ''this'', Fatboy,”  


Tucker bit off the pin and tossed in another [[QIB]]. “Roll ''this'', Fatboy,” Tucker chortled.
The QIB flew. The [[SIV]] retooled. It snapped back it hose and cracked an ack-ack out of the turret. It ''shot the [[QIB]] out of the air''.  


The [[SIV]] retooled. The hose snapped back. An ack-ack poked out of the turret fast. It ''shot the [[QIB]] out of the air''.  
It fizzed and spun and molten glassed the sand.


Bundie swore. ''How the hell was it doing that?'' It was gaming out scenarios and learning the Irregulars manoeuvres as fast as they could change them up.  
''Scheisse.'' How the hell was it doing ''that''? It was gaming out scenarios and learning the Irregulars manoeuvres as fast as they could change them up.  


Bundie clocked the insignia on the uniform — ''that’s three-star MD at the mandate and a EVP on the confirmator''. And they were tooled the fuck up: these were not standard issue CP-shooters.
The rear gunner popped the turret. Bundie clocked his uniform insignia — ''that’s three-star MD at the mandate and a EVP on the confirmator''. And they were tooled the fuck up: these were not standard issue CP-shooters.


The [[Structured investment vehicle|SIV]] anticipated his every move. It was like it had a direct line into his goddamn amygdala.  
The [[Structured investment vehicle|SIV]] anticipated his every move. It was like it had a direct line into his goddamn amygdala.  
Line 206: Line 249:
“Take cover!”
“Take cover!”


Bundie grabbed the lad by his collar and thrust him violently into the base of the cavity formed by the uprooted smoking stump of Tuckers vaporised palm tree. “Hey!” he squeaked. He cracked his head and woozed.
Bundie grabbed the lad by his collar and thrust him violently into the base of the cavity formed by the uprooted smoking stump of the palm tree. “Hey!” he squeaked. He cracked his head and woozed.


There was a moment of clarity. A sparkular gleam, refracting a rainbow of hope, then a subsonic dropout as Tucker squeezed. A white hot beam of dynamic IM spewed from that magnificent weapon. The arcing white light of a 6(a) notice lit the sky. It hit the SIV’s main margin tank and blew a great hole in it. The liquidity exploded, fanning great arcing sparks of white hot glitter into the sky. They hovered for a moment, congealed into balls of liquid lightening, then zapped out, like targeted missiles, straight at the other irregulars: first Swart, then Chipper, then Tucker, then Frenchie then the squibs whipsawed at Bundie’s tree trunk, slashing here, snapping there as if feeling for Bundie and his ISDA.
There was a moment of clarity. A sparkular gleam, refracting a rainbow of hope, then a subsonic dropout as Tucker squeezed. A white hot beam of dynamic IM spewed from that magnificent weapon. The arcing white light of a 6(a) notice lit the sky. It hit the SIV’s main margin tank and blew a great hole in it. The liquidity exploded, fanning great arcing sparks of white hot glitter into the sky. They hovered for a moment, congealed into balls of liquid lightening, then zapped out, like targeted missiles, straight at the other irregulars: first Swart, then Chipper, then Tucker, then Frenchie then the squibs whipsawed at Bundie’s tree trunk, slashing here, snapping there as if feeling for Bundie and his ISDA.
Line 318: Line 361:
Bundie jammed a second-to-default EM sovereign basket into the magazine of the only piece he had to hand — a rusty old semi-automatic EMTA — and lit up the theatre. It flamed into life.  
Bundie jammed a second-to-default EM sovereign basket into the magazine of the only piece he had to hand — a rusty old semi-automatic EMTA — and lit up the theatre. It flamed into life.  


It was dirty, noisy and hot — he shucked out burnt up [[Risk-weighted assets|RWA]]<nowiki/>s and kept reloading — and at last it holed the [[Structured investment vehicle|SIV]]. It stumbled. Its rollers uncoiled and it stoved into the sand on one knee. It was crippled but still shooting — eventually it crapped out but not before it had annihilated three quarters of Bundie’s unit.  
It was dirty, noisy and hot — he shucked out burnt up [[Risk-weighted assets|RWA]]s and kept reloading — and at last it holed the [[Structured investment vehicle|SIV]]. It stumbled. Its rollers uncoiled and it stoved into the sand on one knee. It was crippled but still shooting — eventually it crapped out but not before it had annihilated three quarters of Bundie’s unit.


Tucker was already goneski. Chipper was dead. Biffer was in a bad way. Blood gouted from his mouth. He wouldn’t last long.  
Tucker was already goneski. Chipper was dead. Biffer was in a bad way. Blood gouted from his mouth. He wouldn’t last long.  
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