So fragged if I didn’t expose my own position and run into the open ground and wave off my troops. Then I started firing off into the dark at a whole lot of nothing, calling in the fragging clans on some innocent dumpsters. While my fellow gangers were blowing the drek out of the scenery, I hustled Finnigan out of the area and sent him on his way. When I did that—I still can’t believe it—he gave me his fragging business card. Anyway, when he was clear I went back and presided over the cleanup, mocking up a cover story for Blake and crew that the meet had been dirty but the hostile overwatch team had popped early, letting the contact escape in the ensuing firefight. So sorry. Blake bought it, and that was it.