"Fan Belt, get up from behind there.", Jet says to the frightened elf.

"Okay K-Bob, we're here, we're armed, what do we do now?"

K-Bob motions for Fan Belt to come out from behind the desk.

“Luis wanted us to meet back here. That seems like a good plan, we can all stand together – so far the Lightning’s only hit us one at a time. I think we should lock-down and put someone at every door and window to keep watch – two at each if we can round up that many. Fan Belt, get the boys rounded up and on guard duty. Everyone on a door should have a weapon, if nothing else a big wrench. There’s a shotgun in my sidecar, grab that if someone can use it. GO!”

As the elf scrambles out the door K-Bob turns his attention to Jet exclusively;

“I thought the Boss was dragging his feet on dealing with these fraggers over Dek. I was going to take matters into my own hands tonight – that’s why I wanted a private meet. I know you feel the same way.”

K-Bob looks Jet directly in the eyes.

“I didn’t want it to go down like this. Sebastian was always square with us. Maybe you had some rep but I didn’t have drek, and he gave me a chance – that’s got to mean something.” K-Bob looks away.

“It’s…” K-Bob stops, unable or unwilling to continue.

"I know what you mean, K-Bob.", Jet says, sinking down into a synth-leather couch. He lays his gun across his lap and looks back at K-Bob.

"Good. I thought I was alone in what I thought about the Riders...", he says, trailing off.

"We're going to need to pick a new leader. I wonder how that one will go over."

“Yeah, there’s that.” K-Bob nods his head glumly, “We gotta figure out what happened to the Boss too. Maeva’s got a skull-plug - she slots that rocket-car of hers, maybe she could slot his… find out what happened. If nothing else she’s as close to machines as he is… uh, was.”
The ork looks around uncomfortably, and then continues;
“There’s five of us lieutenants left. We need to figure out which of the cubs we can use as bodyguards and stay in groups no fewer than three. One o’ Dek’s cubs, that troll kid – Ghost, he can’t be more ‘n sixteen, but he’s fraggin’ huge… um, drek… Whaziz name? Anyway, he’s good on a bike ‘n he knows which end of a pistol to stay away from – if we need to promote a cub I’d back him. He’s…”
At that moment Fan Belt returned, reporting;
“I’ve got two, mostly-sober, people at each entrance. I sent two down to each end of the street with phones as look-outs also. By the way, Xerrus left this message for Mr. St. John; I suppose one of you should have it now.”

Visually scanning the streets as they roll along, Luis mulls the last 24 hours over in his head.

Two down, how many until this is settled? Too many more and the grunts will leave, ESS needs to turn this luck around.

Spotting the rough and tumblers standing too casual to be that, Luis shoots a quick message over to Maeva Those a couple of friends of yours?

The two lieutenants look at each other, then at the elf. Fan Belt holds a plain, white envelope. Neither of the two seems to want to take it, as if it were a cursed duty. Jet finally breaks, and takes the envelope. Opening it, he finds a short note, written in a precise script:

Sebastian,

You knew I had a past when I joined-up; you were willing to take me on ‘no questions asked’.
Something from my past has come to call; I’ve got to take care of it. I’ll be back when and if I can, I hope there are ‘no questions asked’. Give the team my best wishes; tell them my mom got sick or something.

Regards,
X

As he reads, Fan Belt’s phone chirps. K-Bob has to divide his attention between watching Jet and trying to overhear the phone call:

Hoi…good…stay there, keep an eye out for anyone following them. If anyone drives through and so much as slows down in front of the garage I want to know about it. … OK.

Jet’s expression is unreadable to the ork. K-Bob takes the proffered note as Fan Belt relays his news:

That was the look-outs on the south corner. Luis and Maeva just turned onto the street, they should be here very soon. I’m going to go open the doors to their bays… Fan Belt is on the way out the door.

K-Bob slowly, quietly sounds-out the words on Xerrus’ note, puzzling-out the meaning.

"Xerrus is gone. The past seems to have caught up with him...", Jet says, when he notices K-Bob's confused expression, and remembering the Ork's difficulty with script.
"That's three members we're down.", he says quietly. He tilts his head back and rests it against the top of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

"I ain’t stupid, I can read!" K-Bob replies with a hostile glare. Then, realizing that the human was not ‘talking down to him’, <He doesn’t know the meaning of condescending.> he continues in a softer tone; “I… I’m sorry… Uh, this is a lot to deal with… Uh…” He trails off, noting Jet is just sitting there, his face a calm but impassive mask.

K-Bob looks away, turning his gaze to the Big Johnson Tools calendar on the wall. The model straddling an obscenely large spanner smiles at him inanely, souring his stomach.

"Jesus, what a mess," the leader of one of the clean up crews swore. The road was a mess, and the blacktop was going to need some repair work done before it'd be ready to take racer's again. His, along with the other clean up crews, were working along the track, hunting down all the pieces of debris the car had thrown when it crashed. Given how far it'd rolled, there were bits and pieces of the car scattered for more than a hundred meters. Up ahead, he could see a hole made by a particularly large bit in one of the temporary course walls. As he approached, he played his flashlight over the hole to see what had gone through it.

"Holy shhhhh-! Get an ambulance crew over here!" He shouted, waving his arms to draw attention. It hadn't been a piece of debris at all.

-------------------------------

The phone rang at the garage as the team members were mulling over Xerrus' farewell letter. No one made any move to answer it, but it kept ringing. Whoever was on the other end must've known that there would be people at the garage. Being closest to a handset, Fan Belt was the one who finally picked it up. "Yeah?" he answered. "Mac." Most of you recognize the name. She was one of the team's contacts, working at one of Seattle's larger Doc Wagon facilities. She'd been the one to break the bad news to the team when Sebastian's charred body had been brought in, and the intial report of the accident about had gone across her desk. "No-. That's-. Fuck, you're kidding me. You're sure? This time, you're really sure?" He listened for a few more seconds, looking like someone had just slammed the drive shaft off a city master into his groin, then slowly hung up the phone, looking more confused than anything. "It's about Sebastian," he said slowly, sounding unsure of what he was about to tell. "They found him out at the track a little while ago. He's in bad shape, but they think he's going to pull through." He looked back and forth at everyone else in the room. If Sebastian was in the hospital, who was it they pulled out of his car?

Jet snaps his head up from his position of staring at the ceiling.

"What? We gotta get to the hospital...", he says. He bolts to his feet. "This can't leave this room. It might be best if the Riders still think he's dead."

Jet’s sudden announcement and movement seems to break K-Bob’s daze. “Huh..what?” Says the confused-looking ork.

As Jet explains that Sebastian is still alive, K-Bob’s bewildered expression turns into one of concern. “What the frag…” Well, if Sebastian was able to talk, maybe they could get some answers…