Yoake
"That ain't how this works lady. You guys putting two guys on ice isn't any kind of guarantee. Look, I don't know what beef you guys have with the boss, but if I were you I'd be figuring out how to go into hidin' right now. You do not wanna mess with this guy. D'ya really think guys like me willingly work with people who keep 'em under armed guard? Now listen, he knows you're here, he knows you found the bug, I don't know what kinda hell is about to rain down but it's for the best for all of us if you two get the hell out. Run, and don't ever look back. And well, if a few unidentified scraps of a man wash up on shore a few months down the line, pray for me will ya? If you two aren't on the same boat yourselves I mean."
Shef
Civvies up, civvies down, apartment to the right is vacant at this hour, apartment to the left? Oh dear.
There's four of them. Four black motorcycles in an empty barren room, lined up against the far wall. And more importantly four Storm Minds, numbered 20 through to 24, weapons ready and waiting on standby. New models. Armor's bulkier more militaristic, dotted with thruster outlets and rising up to cover most of their head now too, leaving only a liquid glass visor, the holes in their faces having shrunk to a gap in the shape of circle and downward stripe at the center, vaguely reminiscent of a keyhole in shape. Each is armed with a gatling gun, smaller not by much, but definitely sleeker looking that little bit less grounded and that little bit more fantastic, in close-quarters like these they'll probably shred your little soon-to-be informant in less than a second, not unless you two can protect him.