"You got anything over there?"
"Nah. Everything's quiet. Even my scope. You got anything on sensors?"
"Naw. I'm even hacked into street level surveilence. Not even a rat scurrying down there."
"Huh. I'd have thought there'd be more... activity. Security. The fashy kind, in specific. Particularly if anyone caught wind of our plans."
"Maybe we're just that good?"
"Or Maybe the intel is bad?"
"Oh, shit, I wouldn't say that on the open channel."
"It's not an insult, ju-- Wait a minute. Got two live ones."
"Yeah, I see 'em. Gimme a second here... Okay, got 'em. Both minks. The one on the right, the punk looking one, is packing - looks like a TEC-9 in her belt along her back, under her jacket. The one on the left... Huh."
"... Yeah?"
"That's strange..."
"Yeah? What? What is it? They cops? . . . Shit, are they PMC?"
"No no, it's not that. I mean, come on, they sure as fuck don't look military. A TEC-9 isn't something you'd be seeing even from a PMC. That's grungy street-thug shit. High-shelf grungy street-thug shit, but still. And the other one's unarmed. Completely."
"What the fuck is she wearing? Is that type IV ablative armor? Is she wearing ablative armor under her clothes?"
"Hell if I know. Whatever it is, it's shiny and skin tight. I can't imagine it provides much protection, being that thin. Huh. That's... It's something weird, right? That can't just be her... Uh..."
"And what are those pants? Are they sheer? Honestly, respect for that... Anyway, I'm running the database on them."
"Yeah, good call. I sure don't know every threat out there, so maybe these just slipped under the radar. Or they could be smalltime. No idea, it's just..."
"Just what?"
"I don't know, call me crazy but it's like... Okay, hear me out. Their proportions - They look like they stepped out of the vats, you know? OUR vats."
"Pfft. Are you serious? These two aren't ours."
"I know, I know! IFF would've pinged them from ten kilometers away. They'd be networked, and they're obviously not. No eyewear, either. I know these aren't ours. It's just... I can't really see them as being fash, you know?"
"Shit, you're giving them too much credit. Who the fuck knows? Or cares, anyway? The database just came back bingo - These are unknowns. Civvies, I'm guessing. The only reason we're talking about them is because pre-run recon is boring as shit."
"Just in the wrong place, at the wrong time? Tsk. I guess... That one on the left bothers me, though."
"She's nothing. Forget it and just settle. We can't get spooked by a couple of randos walking through the hot zone, particularly if we want to keep a low profile."
"No, seriously, something about her feels wrong. Like... Have you ever been in the room when Greys- . . . Shit!"
"What?"
"It just hit me. Patch the feed through to HQ and see if you can get them to pull a satellite arcana scan."
"Fuck. Magic. Right, that's not going to show up on the baked-in sensors, is it?"
"Not until they integrate the tech into the eyeware, but that's a few months off at least."
"You really think satellite is going to pick this up even if one of them's glowing?"
"No idea, but I'm not sure what other options we have."
"Well, option the second: We ignore them. Just let them leave. They've nothing to do with us or any of this. They don't even know we're here, and honestly, ten minutes from now we'll forget they exist, too."
"Yeah. Probably... Wait, are they arguing?"
"Loudly, at that."
"Well shit. Maybe they are just civvies that wandered through."
"Just kiss already, ladies."
"Hey, now that'd be entertaining. I'd watch t- Fuck, I Just lost them from my angle."
"I've still got them. They're steady on. At this rate they'll be out of the hot zone inside of five minutes."
"Okay, good. Plenty of time before the team touches down and pulls the heist."
"... Uh. Oh. Oh wow."
"Do I want to know?"
"That satellite pull just went through. Arcana energy spike the likes of which I've never seen before."
"Holy shit, seriously?"
"It has to be a glitch. The reading was high enough that the entire city block was glowing on the readout. And the residual is strong enough that it looks like they're leaving a trail in their wake... This has to be wrong. Absolutely a calibration error or something. There's no way in hell anyone cou- Huh. I lost them."
"What?"
"Just not there anymore."
"Fuck. FUCK! Were those capes? Why else would there be that much magic? Did we just let capes waltz into the hot zone? They could ambush the transport on touchdown. We need to find them, or we're sending the team into a quash!"
"Easy, easy! Calm down. They probably just rounded a corner while I was processing the satellite data. They're gone. And the satellite data can't be right to begin with. That amount, and flavor, of magic isn't feasible. No way, no how. `Sides, even if they were capes, we'd pound them into the pavement. Two of them against a whole team? I hope this goes that easy."
"Well... maybe you're right. They didn't seem to be keyed into the target, anyhow."
"Of course I'm right. Just settle. ETA for the transport is twenty minutes. Once they land, we provide cover, and they do their thing. Then we go back home and celebrate. Let's focus on what matters."
"Right. They're not important at all. I'm getting sidetracked here. Just feeling spooked, probably. Pre-mission jitters."
"Yeah. Like I said, ten minutes from now, we'll have rightly forgotten they even exist. Now let's do another sweep."


