New Lore 2

Mouse lightly adjusted the gasmask on his face, making sure there was a solid seal top to bottom. He didn't feel any intoxicating effects but it was something he could do to calm his nerves. The last thing he needed was to let the anxiety get to him.
Powerful bass rattled his skull and beat against his chest and he was glad that he had accepted the earplugs from Zero before he left. Even with them in, the noise inside the club was utterly deafening. Throngs of people undulated to the music, lights dazzling and shifting in an epileptic frenzy.
Club Temptation was infamous and changed locations more often than not. Hallucinogenic and dubiously legal drugs were pumped into the ventilation here, sending the partiers into a blistering fever trip from dusk to dawn. At least, when the fuzz wasn't busting the doors down.
Mouse didn't stand out much in the crowd even with the black gasmask. A mass of body parts decked out in leather fetish gear passed by him, leaving a splatter of bodily fluids behind it. He scrunched his nose in disgust, even though he thankfully smelled nothing. It seemed like he blended right in.
He slowly slipped through the crowds to a far corner with a solitary emergency hatch tucked away behind a pile of overdosed patrons. He hit the small electric panel and the hatch swung open with a hiss barely audible over the blasting music. Taking one last glance at the chaos in the club Mouse dipped down into the opening, shutting the hatch behind him.
The attachment at his wrist jingled indicating that the air here was still laden with intoxicants. Mouse sighed, frustrated. The mask made him slightly claustrophobic but it was certainly better than the alternative. He crept slowly through the low light of the access hallway. Couples and in some cases orgies lined the walls. To their drug addled senses, Mouse was virtually invisible.
As he continued onward the groups of people shrank to nothing. For a few minutes he walked alone through the labyrinth of tunnels with nervousness creeping up his spine.
A dull red light in the darkness of the hall branching off to his right caught his attention. This was the right one, right?
Mouse tentatively approached the light, which he discovered was shining above a small steel door. It illuminated a single towering figure standing in front of it. The man wore a sharp but dusty suit, a clean gasmask, and kept a large rifle tucked under his arm. His thick neck bent slightly to look down on Mouse as he approached.
"What's your business here?" he asked firmly.
"The 'Fox' called me here," Mouse answered.
The guard grunted before taking an intimidating step forward. "Lots of folks claim they were called here. Who are you?"
Mouse took a step back, eyeing the gun in the man's arms. "Mouse. I'm Mouse. I'm just here to pay him off."
Another step forward and Mouse retreated further. "With what money? I don't see a briefcase in those tiny hands of yours."
"With this," Mouse answered, producing a thumb-drive from his shirt pocket.
Like lightning, the guard's arm shot out towards Mouse. He yanked the tightly grasped drive back reflexively. But it wasn't what the guard was aiming for.
A cold iron grip wrapped around his neck and hoisted him off of his feet. Mouse struggled for a few seconds before he felt mechanical pulses invading his consciousness. The guard, more machine than man, invaded Mouse's augmentations searching for information. Mouse's mind reeled as he tried to set a firewall.
Whether due to hours of practice with Zero's expertise, simple dumb luck, or a combination of both, Mouse managed to shut the guard out in a short few seconds. He grunted as the cold grip threw him sideways into the wall of the access hallway.
Before the guard could take another step, a speaker crackled to life and cut in.
"Let him in."
The guard relented, backing up a few steps and slapped an innocuous empty space in the wall to his right. The door behind him opened with a hiss. Mouse heaved himself up, eyeing the guard cautiously. He hesitated before slipping by the huge man into an illuminated airlock.
The door slid shut behind him with another hiss. A whine sounded inside the airlock. The jingle at Mouse's wrist indicated that the air was clean enough to remove his mask. He pulled it off gratefully and clipped it to his belt. He massaged the slight soreness in his neck and reminded himself to thank Zero when he got back. Another door hissed open, revealing a warmly lit room.
He stepped inside. It was a slick yet small modern office. A large tank with numerous exotic fish flitting back and forth under shimmering lights occupied the entire right wall. The left was covered in an enormous screen displaying scenery Mouse could not recognize or rationalize. The sheer volume of greenery was unthinkable.
A small cough drew his attention to the far wall, in front of which sat the Fox. Mouse remembered the drive clutched in his hand and tossed it onto the metal desk with a rattle.
"Congratulations on satisfying your debts," the Fox began. "Very few manage to do this. I would understand should you wish to cut ties from this organization, given your history. But you've proven quite a valuable asset. Valuable enough that you are what I could call indispensable."
The Fox paused, allowing Mouse to digest the his words. Seeing no response forthcoming, he continued.
"If you are willing to consider it, I have an offer. You are entitled to refuse, but I believe that once you see the sums involved, especially considering the cuts for you and your associates, you won't want to."
Mouse didn't like it when the Fox talked like this. It set him on edge. Details were usually upfront, not danced around like this. He spoke up.
"Who's the target? How much?"
The Fox smirked slightly before standing.
"Seventy-eight billion. I want you to rob the Broker blind."