Grant lined up outside the armoury, as each Agent and Squad member showed their ID to the Clerk and provided a palm and thumb print to release the biometric locks on their personal equipment lockers.

Once inside she began the meticulous process of gearing up for the day.

Talk from the outgoing teams of an MDC going off the rails in Sector 6. The man pulled a knife on the Agent. Cutting her quite badly on the thigh. Mentally Distressed Citizen or not, the Squad had put him down hard, Mom had joined in, and they'd had to pop her too.

The teams swapped banter, point scoring between Teams.

'No need to put a poor MDC down, he simply wouldn't get a chance with Delta!'

'Yeah, one look at Dobson and he'd probably throw the EB into the shredders...and then jump in himself, swear to God seen it happen…'

'Probably that breath …jeez man, just what do you eat?'

'Your Momma!'

'….you ever want to join a decent Squad…oh, sorry, you’d need a brain!'

'Shut it, Chillhead!'

Black humour and insults in the face of death, how they coped with the everyday. Grant knew the routine.

Glancing around her, noticing the usual little rituals her colleagues went through before each shift.

Ramirez kissed his fingers before touching them to a fading baby photo taped to the inside of his locker, said a little prayer for baby Rosa and any who would follow her this day. He was one of the first workmates to lose a child to the 180 tests.

A happy man, full of family pride, always joking, throwing barbecues, suggesting after-shift drinks.

Until that day. Now poor Ramirez was a shadow of his former self. The humour was gone, a gaunt and haunted look on his features.

Although Psych said he was fit for duty, everyone was still a little nervous each time he drew his weapon.

Clarke and Dobson, preening themselves like peacocks, ribald laughter as they shared inappropriate jokes and insults. Practicing quick-draws against each other, loser pulling faces of pretend agony.

But, in a dangerous situation, Grant knew they'd perform, and had that knack of snapping into professional mode as soon as they were on the clock.

Then Bennetti, or Nan, as she insisted on being called by her friends, close to retirement, (but it seemed she'd always been close), the mother hen of the Squad, kind, gentle Nan viewed them all as her little ducklings. Fussing over them at break times, feeding the boys to bursting. Bennetti always had home cooked food for them.

Then there was her new Sergeant, Ben Watkinns.

A nice enough kid, if a little too eager to prove himself in his new rank, despite (or more likely because) of his young age, to his new colleagues.

Constantly had his eyes glued to his screen, a voracious reader. Grant wondered if there was a book on file in the System that he hadn't read at least twice.

Even now, he was fumbling with the straps of his armour with his right hand, the left holding up his coms, eager to reach the end of a chapter before work began.

Grant laced up her combat boots, zipped up her Kevlar, checked her sidearm, and called her Squad to order.

She ran an expert eye over each, satisfied everything was in order, but knew it would be - everything was always perfect with her team. Expected nothing less.

She smiled with genuine fondness as they filed past her into the parade room.

'Okay people, Listen up!'

Senior Agent Woods waited for his Agents to quieten down before reading the day's duties.

Looking at the screen he shook his head, gonna be a busy shift.

'Sector One, Team Alpha, Rodgers Lead Agent. Sector Two, Team Bravo, Estevez Lead Agent. Sector Four, Team Charlie, welcome back Morris, Lead Agent. Sector Six, Team Delta, Grant, you're Lead.'

The team leaders made faces at each other, each good-naturedly mocking the other workloads and designated areas, acknowledging the return from sick leave of their colleague.

'Busy day ahead people, forty-seven EBs, transports are waiting, and Reception Centres have been notified.

Grant, Delta; be aware, lethal force was required yesterday in your Sector, father refused to hand over his EB, things got a little messy, so softly, softly out there eh?'

Grant nodded her thanks for the heads up, she'd already heard the locker room gossip about the multiple shootings.

'Okay people, that's all, let's go round up some Evil Babies!'

Forty minutes later she knocked at the apartment door.

'Mr. Yamada, I'm Agent Grant, may we come in please?'

The householder smiled and bowed slightly.

'Please Agent Grant, come in.' He smiled again, 'I would normally request that guests remove their footwear, but…' he gestured at the heavily laced combat boots, '....but I believe that may take quite some time!'

'Thank you Sir, and, yes, they are a little cumbersome!'

Grant and her team entered the beautiful little apartment, tastefully furnished in the old oriental style. She shook her head as the man politely offered her tea and set herself to perform her duty.

'May we speak to your wife, and, please, have her bring the infant?'

Yamada called out, and his wife emerged from what was presumably the bedroom area, she too bowed slightly and smiled a welcome.

Grant cleared her throat and read from the screen.

'Mr and Mrs Yamada, by the Authority of the Dishonesty, Deviance and Violence Laws, we have determined this subject to be capable of Violence, and, as such, the child will be taken for processing. You have one minute to hand the subject into our custody, or lethal force will be employed.'

'Please, Agent Grant, there will be no need for force, we will cooperate.' He smiled at his wife and motioned for her to obey the Agent's demand.

Grant breathed a sigh of relief; these decent folk had enough heartache to face without her adding to their troubles.

Relief vanished as Mrs Yamada emerged from the bedroom, carrying a child in each arm.

'Allow me to introduce my boys, Agent Grant, we have been blessed with identical twins, now you just have to choose which will be the killer, my wife and I will give him over peacefully, the balance of probability means you have a 50/50 chance of error, but you must decide which baby you will take!'

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