Piper vs Mortal Mercenaries

	"Hello!" Piper called as the boat came closer. "Don’t shoot! We're friendly!"
	The boat ran aground with such speed I thought it might keep driving right onto Cabrillo Boulevard. Mr Searchlight jumped out first, surprisingly agile for a guy in body armour. Mr Assault Rifle followed, providing cover while Mr Engine cut the outboard motor.
	Searchlight sized us up, his hand on his sidearm. "Who are you?"
	"I’m Piper!" said Piper. "You don't need to call this in. And you definitely don't need to train that rifle on us!"
	Searchlight’s face contorted. He started to match Piper"s smile, then seemed to remember that his job required him to glower. Assault Rifle did not lower his gun. Engine reached for his walkie-talkie.
	"IDs," barked Searchlight. "All of you."
	Next to me, Meg tensed, ready to become McCaffrey the Avenger. Jason tried to look inconspicuous, but his shirt crackled with static electricity.
	"Sure!" Piper agreed. "Although I have a much better idea. I’m just going to reach in my pocket, okay? Don't get excited."
	She pulled out a wad of cash – maybe a hundred dollars total. For all I knew, it represented the last of the McLean fortune.
	"My friends and I were talking," Piper continued, "about how hard you guys work, how difficult it must be patrolling the harbour! We were sitting over there at that café, eating these incredible fish tacos, and we thought, Hey, those guys deserve a break. We should buy them dinner!"
	Searchlight’s eyes seemed to become unmoored from his brain. "Dinner break …?"
	"Absolutely!" Piper said. "You can put down that heavy gun, toss that walkietalkie away. Heck, you can just leave everything with us. We’ll watch it while you eat. Grilled snapper, homemade corn tortillas, seviche salsa." She glanced back at us. "Amazing food, right, guys?"
	We mumbled our assent.
	"Yum," Meg said. She excelled at one-syllable answers.
	Assault Rifle lowered his gun. "I could use some fish tacos."
	"We‘ve been working hard," Engine agreed. "We deserve a dinner break."
	"Exactly!" Piper pressed the money into Searchlight"s hand. "Our treat. Thank you for your service!"
	Searchlight stared at the wad of cash. "But we're really not supposed to –"
	"Eat with all that gear on?" Piper suggested. "You're absolutely right. Just throw it all in the boat – the Kevlar, the guns, your phones. That’s right. Get comfortable!"
	It took several more minutes of cajoling and light-hearted banter, but finally the three mercenaries had stripped down to just their commando pyjamas. They thanked Piper, gave her a hug for good measure, then jogged off to assault the beachside café.
	As soon as they were gone, Piper stumbled into Jason's arms. "Whoa, you okay?" he asked.
"F-fine." She pushed away awkwardly. "Just harder charming a whole group. I'll be okay."