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"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."
