The important thing to know is that Mobile Task Force Alpha-44 had no nickname. The crisis that had erupted over the last few years had left precious little time to develop unit cohesion and the camaraderie that led to the formation of a common identity - Agents were thrown together haphazardly, given the barest minimums of equipment and training, and told to hunt down and contain the outbreak by any means necessary.

	The Task Force leader, a 'senior' agent no older than thirty, spoke tersely to the assembled group. "Our mission is simple. The skip is located somewhere in this ten-block radius, according to Espionage. Forty-three and Forty-five are also on-task to make sure this area gets canvassed fast. Don't worry - you'll know her when you see her. Early teenage girl, minor psychic-sympathetic influence combined with spatial anomalies. Almost certainly embedded with the local populace, turning them against us. Keep a good head on your shoulders and we'll all get out of this fine. Espionage says these... creepy-ass sigils are good at dampening her influence, so make sure you tag her with one if you get the chance." Nodding to the table, the Agent indicated a pile of cloth hexagrams. "Just press it against her, we'll stitch them on later."

	Solemn-faced, the Agents filed forward, collecting their tokens. 43 had started an hour ago; 45 would start an hour from now. Morale was low. The teams were already well-recognized in their current duty station of Amsterdam, and the prospect of another set of raids had no one particularly eager to move. All of them knew their duty, however, and the thought of shirking never crossed their minds.

	"You know your orders. You're expected out there in five minutes. Forty-four, dismissed."

	The drizzle of rain and the cool evening air did nothing to lift the team's spirits as they knocked at the first door. A wary eye peeked out from a crack, looking at the agents in uniform. "Can I help you?"

	The squad lead nodded to the older woman, rattling off the cover story that they had used hundreds of times before.

	"Evening, ma'am. We're with the constabulary-" he flashed a badge, "-and we've reason to suspect that there's a violent criminal hiding in the vicinity. We'll just be coming in for a quick inspection, if you don't mind?"

	The tone of his voice left no room for refusal, and after a few long moments in the rain, the door opened and the team entered. The sweep was conducted quickly, and finding nothing, the team was back out in the rain.

	44-3 piped up. "Chief, not sure if I'm disappointed or not, no lie."

	The lead (44-1 according to mission documents, 'Chief' to everyone else) raised a brow. "Oh?"

	"Just... not gonna cry if 43 finds her first, that's all."

	"I don't like bagging and tagging skips any better than you do, Agent, but I can tell you that you sure as hell don't want to explain to Command why we covered a third as many households as 43 or 45."

	"Oh, right. Right. No, I didn't mean to say-"

	"Of course you didn't, Agent. Let's keep moving."

	Rain and cold were oppressive, to be sure, but far worse was the reception Amsterdam gave the agents on patrol. Windows closed, children were pulled from windows, and lights winked out as the team rounded corners. The team closed ranks as they continued down the dimly lit streets, bunching together less for heat than for warmth. The task force had been assembled three weeks ago - they hardly knew each others' names, but out here tonight? They were the only friends they had in the world.

	The lead spoke up, and the rest of the team's shoulders sagged with relief - anything to break the godforsaken silence. "Hey, three."

	"What's up, Chief?"

	"Sorry for biting your head off there earlier."

	"No, Chief, mission comes first, you're-"

	"Naw, son. This is shitty and you know it. I know it. It's not the same."

	"Well, uh... apology accepted, Chief. We still gotta check these houses."

	"I know, I know."

	Two chirped, far too cheerily for the gloomy evening, "How much we got left, Chief?"

	"We got five more blocks to cover."

	"Think 43 or 45've found her yet?"

	"Naw. We would've been radioed."

	"Chief, last time they did-"

	"Two, God help me, we're gonna check the damn houses even /if/ they find her. We're doin' this right."

	"Sorry, Chief. Sorry."

	"Damn right. Now come on."

	Four blocks remained when they came to the house. A courteous knock at the door, and a suspicious eye peering out. "Sir, we're with the constab--"

	"I haven't seen anything tonight, sirs, and I can't help you."

	"Excuse me?"

	"There's nothing I can help you with. Have a good evening."

	Only Chief's boot in the doorway prevented it from closing.

	"We'll be inspecting the premises now, sir."

	"I- I- of course."