Amarjeet Inderpal's Questionnaire

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Encrypted Logs

Password: *****************

I am writing this Log from my flat in Dubai, UAE. It will go in with my Operation Logs in a encrypted cloud server with instructions from a spider I wrote that will scan for news of my death, or certain actions my company might take in my disappearance. It will then prompt a recall to a private line - if the proper code is not received within 48 hours, certain instructions will be sent to my employees, my family, & a solicitor I have retained who will receive the unadulterated logs themselves, with orders to sort out what parties may have it coming with the attached funds.

Why Dubai? It was where I set up after being run out of England, obviously. My quarters in the Ladeen compound hardly counts as "home" after all.

It's true, I will never love it here. A handful of men with all the money & power in the world yet less common sense than God gave a drunken monkey will never be terribly appealing. Yet, I could hardly stay in London could I?

My home is a simple flat in an office building. I pay handsomely to use a local gym for training privately, the better to save space & money. Still, I do keep the basics at home. A simple flat & a simple life. My bed is empty beyond myself, food is delivered as needed, & I have excellent internet. I have no cats, unlike other single women my age, nor even a plant.

My track record on saving lives remains abysmal, & that extends to pets as well.

I maintain a flat here, one in the main office in Amritsar, & rooms in Riyadh for my work. I took substantial losses attempting to establish offices in Hong Kong & have since abandoned that initiative, & have yet refused to create offices in the States on general principle.

They say money is the root of evil.

"They" are right of course, but it does make itself bloody useful.

Currently I am the owner & principle operator of the rather immodestly named "Inderpal Agency" specializing in Close Protection, Remote Security, & Expert Consulting. I have existing contracts with a number of wealthy & powerful individuals, as well as a steady job safeguarding the wife of Sheikh Ladeen from all threats.

I am also a silent partner in Valiant Arms & have a controlling interest in Fier'Te Couture.

Beyond that I manage my own stock portfolio, do my own accounting & book keeping, & make delightful Survival Kits as something of a cottage industry.

I spend my income on maintaining all of the above & expanding it. New offices, talent scouting, advertising...the usual. I pay my people quite well, demand results, & live rather humbly. Shabbily even. As God intended? Possibly, yet it is just as likely that I am a poor home maker with little taste for finery. 

Far better to reinvest that income or otherwise find a suitable tax shelter.

My rate? 10,000 Pounds per day in addition to a retainer. Plus reasonable expenses of course.

I am nothing if not reasonable.

Ah yes - what do I want.

The crass would say I want money, of course. Quite a lot of it I should think.

My lovely parents would say I wish the enlightenment that comes from faithfully observing the scriptures. Get right with God, as it is said.

In truth though, my driving goal, the one that keeps me awake at night to the sound of blood thundering between my ears with shame & rage is quite simple:

I wish to prove that I can do it.

"It" of course is rather a loose definition, I realize, however the fact is - that doesn't matter. I wish to be wildly successful in everything I do, against all the obstacles this world or any other has to offer. I wish to spit in the face of those who would oppose me, & lay them in rows behind me. I wish to prove that I am the very best in my field, despite the dreadful mistakes of my past.

Lastly, I wish to die striving towards that goal.

This will decidedly not be part of the missive to my parents, however I know it to be the truth of my heart & soul - I will never achieve the excellence I wish in life, so it is entirely reasonable that I must achieve it posthumously.

An acceptable outcome, really. I may pay for my sins & prove my point at the same time, while patently avoiding making any decisions in life that do not revolve around my injured pride & clinical depression.

Fucking BRILLIANT, if I do say so myself.

I...

I am not ready to talk about that yet.

The most defining moment of my post-mental life was gaining promotion to Protection Command, & then Royalty & Specialist Protection. I had worked as private security with my father as a girl, joined the Police Force, & then...then rose to the RaSP.

I was so proud. No more vile corporate VIPs, no directing traffic. I would guard Parliament. I would protect Royalty.

I had firearms privileges.

Even then I had my share of detractors. As a Sikh woman of Indian heritage I was of course aware that my meteoric rise was the result of political machinations - a more diverse, more tolerant United Kingdom. Not afraid to trust the lives of it's leaders in a hands of some Asian woman.

I trained hard. I did not let the disparaging, muttered comments dissuade me. I would lay down my life for Great Britain.

If only I had done so...

My father, Dharam Singh - who taught me everything I knew & never once favored my brothers over me. My father is a service disabled Veteran of the UK Military, though he lives in Amritsar. He was private security for a time, then military. He has become involved in the Sikh independence movement & I fear for his safety.

My mother, Nirmail Kaur, who has loved me no matter what & deserves ten thousand blessings for showing such patience with her daughter, & has not once openly admitted she would prefer me to find a good man & start a family. My mother is to good for this world, & her courage & serenity shames me.

My brothers Madan, Jarnail, & Balbir - all younger than me, & all strapping lads already starting families & making our parents proud.

These are the people who mean the world to me. Who I would spend all my time with if not for the shame I have brought on them, on our family. As it is, I keep my distance, calling when I must. Always so busy, you understand.

If someone were to threaten...to harm any one of them...

As mentioned, my parents are Saints & I would sooner die than bring shame on them. The immigrated from India to England when my father finished his first tour of duty. I was born in Kent, & still think of myself as British even though there were many other children (& adults, from time to time) who were quite happy to remind me that I was "Asian" & that my parents were "filthy immigrants."

I was not a happy child. Alas, as the firstborn my brothers were not of an age to fight my battles for me - so I fought them myself. Alone, & with what my therapist described as "brutal efficiency." Compensating, perhaps.

Religions was a comfort - I was happy to become initiated as a Sikh. I wore the 5 K's with pride, as well as a chani or even a turban for a time. Proud, happy...but even then more than a few boys of Kent found that a steel bangle makes an excellent fist pack.

I would go to West London for college, achieving high marks in sports, academics, & sciences. Abstaining from alcohol as per my wont meant that I was uninclined to boff some college bloke. There were no positions in the Military that I was interested at that time, so Police Academy was the next logical step.  

...

To say that I am not a Romantic would be a rather dramatic understatement, even for a Brit.

Hard enough to be taken seriously in this line of work without tumbling your commanding officer or getting knocked up. The fact that I do indeed detest the swaggering arrogance most men exude like foul sweat only exacerbates the matter.

It would be rather in vogue to say I am merely Asexual, or perhaps a closeted Lesbian - even fly a pretty coloured flag from my flat. As a woman with an unfortunate talent for deprecation & introspection, I can say that this is simply not the case. It is not that I am blind to the charms of others, to the comforts they take for granted, having a Partner to shoulder their burdens - it is that I am decidedly unworthy of such affections, a failure who has brought shame & seeks little more than a decisive end to it all within the confines of my religious preferences & wounded pride.

No one could love me beyond my parents, foolish brothers, & perhaps God because I cannot love me. I am far too much a coward to ever trust anyone in such a manner & would respond with icy indifference or blistering scorn to anyone's attempt to prove otherwise.

I am too much a coward to even have a dog or cat. If I failed to feed or care for it I would torment myself forever after.

No, this wretched life will end as it began - alone.

Failure, obviously.

Failure is what wakes me with a cold sweat, which forces me to vomit up the evening's meal is stomach churning nausea, to spend every waking moment training, pushing, working to be better & to berate myself for any moment I am not doing so.

Even then, for all my preparations & clever schemes, it is STILL not enough - Failure raises it's head, my personal demon, & robs me of my victories, turns them into ashes in my mouth.

Oh, to be certain I fear my father will draw the ire of the Indian government. Will bring disaster upon my family with his desire to see a true homeland for our people while I am away chasing the snarks & goblins that make up this mad work we do - but what is that if not FAILURE once more? Failure to protect them, failure to moderate my father's activism, or failing that - to carve out a Sikh homeland myself in his name?

I have faced multiple false Gods - would it be so hard?

Of course it would - because I could FAIL. I could fail my people, in the tens of thousands, fail God himself in the effort.

I do not fear death.

I do not fear pain, or loneliness.

I do not fear the gibes & threats of those who would hate or despise me.

I fear Failure. That alone.

As an initiated Sikh & a Close Protection Specialist, it is perhaps not surprising that my most treasured possession is the Kara.

Representing the shield of faith that all Sikhs must wear at all times, it has been further enhanced by my mysterious vendors to enable my penance. To make certain I do not fail again. Both symbolically & practically, it is my most valued possession.

That being said, I am something of a fan girl for cutting edge technology.

The FierTe suit that Francois & I created together is marvel of wearable technology. If that arrogant fool had called me for his Zombie hunt, he would be alive today, taking the fashion world by storm with myself as a silent partner.

The Valiant Arms line is appealing to me, as it was a commission that quite frankly I took charge of. Mr. Valent may understand material & engineering principles but he is a poor designer. The T.O.P. suits & Defender are fine, precision instruments that I can feel proud of. Just need to retain a ballistics expert to make the ammo caseless.

The alien rifle I secured is something of a trophy, & quite valuable for all that. A more philosophical person would marvel that we are not alone in this multiverse - I'll just have the technology, thank you.

To ask that question is to suggest that my life could be otherwise.

Crippling depression? Fears for Indian Assassins coming for my family? Tax day is just around the corner...

My biggest problem is & always has been keeping my clients alive - while my skills have improved immeasurably, every time I turn around it seems as if a former client has gotten themselves proper fucked when I wasn't looking.

Puts a dent in repeat business, I don't mind saying.

These mad jobs are quite dangerous of course - offering CSP services on them has proven lucrative. You would think that anyone being tasked with some absurd mission would know to give me a call - I do give them a card after all. It is beyond imagination that these arrogant fops would not think to phone me when presented with their imminent demise.

Frustrating, really.

The other matters are merely obstacles. A CSP with no one to protect goes on the dole - & we will NOT have that.

Though my internal alarm is set for 0500, I am ashamed to say I don't always leap out of bed.

Intrusive thoughts can be quite harrowing, & mustering the will to live another day can be a struggle - I don't mind saying that self-disgust puts me on my feet more than my alarm.

I prefer a light breakfast with tea. I am something of a vegetarian (not vegan - I'll have that cream in my tea if you please) if only for simplicity. I make my own meals where possible, only eating socially at business meetings.

From there it is the tracksuit & trainers - yoga & a five kilometer run keeps you fit. I have some podcasts I prefer during this time. In most of the Arab world these runs are sadly on treadmills - barbaric prejudice against women being what it is, it saves trouble. Running in the open is preferable, of course.

The rest of my morning is hardly my own, devoted to emails & the needs of the Client

It behooves a Professional to look the part - for me that means my custom FierTe Executif business suit - optimized between practical EDC & fashion. That man may have been a fool, but he did indeed have the artist's eye.

However, if I am to look mu best then the affair in question is no doubt business related. Meeting potential clients, protecting existing ones in a high profile soiree or one of these mental jobs, my methods are more or less the same.

1) Equipment check: A professional never blames their tools. My suit, weapons, & peripherals must all be checked for optimal function regularly - even my leg will be detached for maintenance at least once per day. Obviously my suit must be immaculate, pressed & cleaned.

2) Secure the Perimeter: Situational awareness is key to avoiding an encounter. It is always better to evade a situation that might risk the client over confronting it directly. I try to master the environment I find myself in before I am tested, doing my due diligence in research & hiring what assistance I might require.

3) Eyes on Target: Never, NEVER let the Client out of your sight. Remain aware of peripheral threats, but the Client requires your constant attention. Never let an obstacle or situation deprive you of access to the Client.

Past that, everything is either dull book keeping or total chaos. You never know which till it is far to late. Looking my best is rather simple, as I am no blushing maiden - I am ready anytime. Preparing for a situation...I'd like a month to plan but am rarely so fortunate. Whatever time I have will be enough. It will have to be.

Lie to my parents, most like.

"Yes, everything is fine - business is on the up & up, no, no - not sure when I'll be able to come visit..."

Ugh...disgusting. They deserve better. Beyond the much dreaded phone call, my routines will remain the same, I suspect. I am much more inclined to ruminate on my failures than indulge in small luxuries - & my failures are quite numerous.

However, it behooves me to be away from the office, to best avoid my employees seeking to "surprise" me. Solitude is helpful, I've found. Kayaking can be relaxing, or any other circumstance where I can be alone, a burden only to myself.

It's time, isn't it?

My greatest regret still haunts me...will always shadow my steps until the last.

I was operating in RaSP Protection Command as part of the detail protecting the Prime Minister. While still relatively junior to the security team, i was given a critical Close Protection role, no doubt to cash in on my politically correct profile. There was talk among the senior ranks, but I dismissed it - sexist, racist, jealous - pick your poison. This was my moment to prove them all wrong you see - I was going to show up these arrogant pigs.

There was a moderate risk of hostile action, & security parameters were established. They failed to fully anticipate the threat & a number of armed men penetrated the security cordon. It all happened so fast - I was able to push to the stairs, the PM in tow, while the rest of my team was pinned down. Reaching the parking garage below the building, I came to the conclusion that I could not secure the perimeter of such a large area by myself - back up was coming soon, yet hostiles were still active in the structure.

I directed the Prime Minister to hide while I secured a vehicle.

It seemed like an excellent idea at the time - my team would be there shortly (I thought) & if I was engaged while getting the vehicle, at least the PM would be safe. That this strategy wholly defies the basic premise of Close Protection is known to me in hindsight.

CCV tells the rest of the story - it shows me tell that poor man to hide while I abandon him. Less than a minute later, hostiles emerge from the stairwell, see him, & cut him down while I was looking for the bloody car.

There was a trial. I was a suspect, even. While there was no evidence that I was a double agent & I was acquitted, my career was dead as the PM & the sensational media declared me all but an accomplice - a cross dressed Guy Fawkes.

It is a blow from which I shall never recover.

My mysterious vendors seem to have access to unusual technology - I would say "Alien" however I have seen Alien technology at this point & the two are not quite the same.

The rewards of my successes are cybernetic in nature. I have gone to great lengths to track these vendors down, all for naught - as much as it boggles the mind, i suspect they reside in a slightly alternate timeline. If I find a TARDIS, perhaps I shall drop them a line.

The catalog seems to fall in a few predictable categories:

Cybernetic Augmentation: Though it pains me to admit, I have allowed my vendors to install numerous cybernetic implants in my body. Yes, even in the delicate channels of my brain, nervous system, & peripheral organs. These seem to be prototype systems, & frankly, do have a few bugs. The focus appears to be less in creating a "super soldier" than enabling a highly trained operative to increase situational awareness 7 react to it. While it is in fact directly against my religion to accept such augments - I simply cannot be allowed to fail again.

Cybernetic Prosthesis: My leg was badly injured in one of these jobs, & the vendors offered me a sleek ply-ceramic model in return for my efforts. I did consent to having my damaged leg amputated, & now have this one in it's place - it's serial number & designation labels it a "Durga-Class" leg, which furthers my suspicion that these items come from a vendor based out of India, or possibly from the Indian Government is some alternate reality. While it galls me to have a leg named after a Hindu Goddess of War, it is otherwise a fine tool in the arsenal.

Security Peripherals: My Kara was infiltrated by a magneto-ferro fluid that displays truly unusual properties. I have analyzed the fluid under microscope, & do not believe it is composed of nano machines at this time. rather, I believe the unique properties it exhibits are some sort of quantum entanglement. It is receptive the my thoughts/brain waves, which led me to examine the operating system of the device - it is indeed recording my brain waves constantly - I do not recall agreeing to that in the TOS, however beggars can hardly be choosers.

Other than these tools, I have no "Powers" as I've seen others wield. I have my skills, determination, & reckless disregard for my own life. That is all.

I have a...complicated relationship with my faith.

As mentioned, I am an initiated Sikh, as is my entire family.

I observe the scriptures as best I can, hold true the teachings of the Gurus, & maintain the five K's to the best of my abilities.

That being said, it is quite problematic to be typecast as a person of religion in the world of elite Close Protection - wearing a turban casts you as a type, as well as the other trappings. A type that can see significant hurdles to a person attempting to carve out a niche for themselves.

So: yes, I do wear my hair uncut, as per the Kesh, I comb it with my Kangha at least twice a day (though I do not always wear it in my hair, I must admit). I wear the Kachera, my precious magic underwear, beneath my suit. I have a tiny Kirpan on my keychain.

Obviously the Kara is worn openly, my shield & to an extent - my sword.

I will not trust in magic, or in false Gods.

I maintain Khalsa.

I remain faithful as much as my bitter, scarred, soiled soul can manage.

How do I react?

I open fire usually. Terminate with prejudice.

On multiple occasions I have encountered (& defeated) False Gods & their vile lackeys. In each instance, bar one, the vile lackeys were driven back.

I understand this question is intended to reveal my doubts - however, while I am riddled with doubts on most other things, this is one that is quite clear to me.

I am Amridharti. I will not be mislead or deceived by these grotesque creatures & their minions. God lives in me & through me: sad vessel though I may be, I will not be swayed from my Faith by the petty parlour tricks of those I encounter.

It is not for me to determine the divine plan - it is for me to act in accordance to my faith - to avoid hesitation, & strike decisively when the moment calls for it.

I spit on the false prophecies & visions of your fake Gods.

You may take my life, but you will never, never break my faith or my will.

In the personal security line it does behoove one to keep an eye out for possible clients as well as potential threats - "One's allies can be worse than enemies," as they say. That being said, I present the Inderpal Agency Blacklist/Whitelist:

Blacklist

Alexander Felidae: I have not direct position on the plight of these Lycanthropes (Felithropes?) - they may indeed be unfortunate victims of an unusual disease. When Mr. Felidae is on point, he is an excellent marksman who follows orders. I may in fact owe him my life. When he puts his cat ears on, he is dangerous liability that I would not trust to watch my Flat for an hour. Shame, I did in fact consider hiring him at one point - that was before he bungled our infiltration at the cost of multiple lives.

Bu Fang: Yes, that Bu Fang. Celebrity chef & adventurer. Utterly unreliable. I did express a warning that if he showed such poor impulse control again in my presence, I would summarily execute him. He also failed to keep an appointment for a Security Consult - I will not be working with this one again.

"Taku" Smith: Ugh...UGH. I never cared for children both as clients or as a future prospect. This experience was an excellent reminder why that is the case. Never again.

Gustav Tischbein: Mr. Tischbein hides his spiritual corruption rather poorly. Though I did accept a provisional CSP in the field, he will go on the Blacklist, as will anyone who associates with such a fetid mire of perversion willingly. He was rather fortunate my Mercenary sensibilities overcame my instinct to purge his kind of filth from this world.

Whitelist

Connor Inkz: While undeniably unstable, Mr. Inkz is a repeat client that pays his dues in a timely manner. I dread to think what might have happened if I had extended him a line of credit for the incident in Idaho however - quite a bit of blood on my hands I should imagine. Contracts with Mr. Inkz will therefore be negotiated ahead of time, with payment up front.

"Lanie:" This...dog woman. While seemingly reasonable, it is an affront to everything I believe for a child of God to become a simple animal. My personal prejudices aside, Lanie pays promptly & performs adequately in the field. I would consider a CSP even if it met frequent trips to dry cleaning to get the bloody hair off my clothes.

Albert Easton: An alias of course. The sysop is clearly a refugee of some covert Military or Black Op outfit. While a touch fragile, his skills have proven adequate in the field. I am hardly a stranger to electronic security, but having a dedicated sysop is simply one less distraction for the Close Protection Specialist - pending a background check, I would work with this one again.

Perfection is left in the hands of God, something we, the faithful, can aspire to but never truly achieve.

That being said, I am a Security Specialist - I like a room that is designed with that in mind. Since a field operative never has the luxury of selecting the situation where there skills will be needed, I will instead go over my own methods of securing the average room.

1) Breaching: The CSP should be the first into the room to secure the perimeter. Care must be taken to avoid a trapped door, & the client must be kept far enough away to avoid a potential blast, yet close enough that intervention is still possible. A variety of tools may be used to further this task, though a simple telescoping camera is quite effective, inserted under the door - it should be noted that if an ambush is expected, the use of such a camera would alert hostile parties - as with all strategies, the CSP must make such calls based on the suspected threat level they will encounter. If an ambush is expected, breaching charges through the roof or a nearby wall is an acceptable method of gaining entry, followed by a flashbang or CS as desired.

2) Operation Security: Once breached, the CSP must quickly secure the room. A detailed investigation is not possible at this time, as every moment spent securing the room is time the client is unattended - once a cursory inspection is complete, the client should be directed  to enter the room yet say nothing & touch nothing. Baggage may be placed in the bathtub for now if one is available. The CSP will close all curtains, scan for hidden devices, activate jamming protocols if warranted, & conduct a deeper investigation for traps at this time - only after this investigation is satisfactorily complete should the client be allowed to go about their business.

3) Digging In: If any extended times is to be spent in this location, the CSP should busy themselves with planning for the worst. A remote door wedge should be installed on any doors if available, Adjacent rooms & potential access points should be cleared, & at least three pre-palnned escape routes should be devised & rehearsed. In hostile areas, traps of one's own may be left behind to sow confusion & inflict casualties. No fortress is impenetrable to sustained assault, & the CSP should have at least three back up locations to fall back to.

On a purely technical level, I am competent in many fields. I have excellent situational awareness. I am an expert markswoman. I speak several languages, can navigate most cultures & bureaucracies, & have a superlative understanding of computers & electronics. I have completed combat driving courses, have trained extensively in Muay Thai, Krav Maga, Kali/Escrima, & Boxing.

I am willful & do not cower in the face of my enemies.

Still, what I am best at is Security & Operational Integrity. I can make a reasonable strategy to assist the client with their goals (for an additional consultation fee, of course), however it is typically my place to keep the client alive in spite of whatever hare-brained scheme they are about. To make certain they survive despite their very best efforts to do otherwise.

Why put my life on the line in such matters when I could create a better plan, you may ask? Obviously, I do it to prove that I can. To cleanse myself of shame & doubt in that crucible where the plan goes awry.

I AM quite good at what I do. However, a blade must see use to be sharpened further. True strength is not given, it is hammered in to perfection.

The sheer stupidity of my clients tests my skills in ways you can not possibly imagine.

Obviously, they say I am a rather bad Sikh & quite traumatized by my sordid past. Hardly need to be a psychoanalyst to see that, I should think.

I am able to keep within the forms of my faith but often sacrifice the meaning for practicality - another burden of shame I must constantly manage. If I start to feel good about myself, my parents are but a phone call away to remind me what actual religious observance looks like.

A good plan requires good intelligence. A lie is a break in that chain, a weakness that is difficult to anticipate. While deception has it's place on the battlefield, it has no place among those you might trust your lift to. In that light, someone who betrays me may as well have just shot at me - my response will be appropriate.

Failure...the word scribed deeply into my bitter heart. Have I not said enough of this already? I cannot fail. Death would be a blessing over the terrible shame of failing again. I must. Not. FAIL!

Never again.

OOC: Amarjeet is not the sort to permit herself the subtle pleasures of music - to allow a distraction on the job would be anathema. Even in down time, she is more like to listen to Podcasts regarding tech, business, & politics. At best she might find an app to play soothing neural rhythms to help her sleep. That being said, I have fabricated a list of Songs that I think might suit er overall image & motivations.

The Offspring - Army of One

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oWclEZprdc

Amarjeet is a thought experiment to fully embrace my tactical acumen with nearly 30 years of Contract experience with a handicap that she is a Bodyguard - someone who will jump in front of danger she could easily avoid. In that regard, she is very, very effective. Without doubt my most capable Contractor, & more capable than many even 10 wins beyond her.

Fear Factory - Resurrection

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTOwKYDb8mw&list=PLKM_IMyCLovvnaDB61Dp4phnN2ZJcgYdB&index=30

Rising from the ashes of failure, Amarjeet is nothing, nothing, if not driven. Left to her own devices she might listlessly watch the telly, wallowing in self-loathing. To be put in harm's way is the only way she can be alive.

Sturgill Simpson - Remember to Breathe

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAHenpGhCVA&list=PLKM_IMyCLovvnaDB61Dp4phnN2ZJcgYdB&index=26

This is a tightly wound person. Intense. Ruthless. Only in the after action report does she remember to be human, & it shows.

Night Runner - Magnum Bullets

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kX8wle6bYk&list=PLKM_IMyCLovvnaDB61Dp4phnN2ZJcgYdB&index=29

Doubt you were expecting a Furry anime, yeah? Well, listen to the lyrics. This song is spot on.

Gary Numan - When You Fall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODoOq93YDLo&list=PLKM_IMyCLovvnaDB61Dp4phnN2ZJcgYdB&index=30

Amarjeet has a complicated relationship with her faith. While a practicing Sikh, her beliefs are frequently rattled by both the Contracts themselves & the steps she is willing to take to achieve them. Far to intelligent & perceptive to take her own beliefs at face value, & thus it is not the balm for her it should be.

Fear Factory - Expiration Date

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RprNzMtfDrM

In addition to having a cyberpunk vibe that fits quite well, this is a reflection of another point in Amarjeet's core design - until I rolled her up, I had never played a clinically depressed, even suicidal character before.While characters obsessed with death are very much in my wheelhouse, I personally don't really get depressed - it's been a challenge to portray her accurately as someone driven to excel, quite competent, whose terror of failure won't allow her to die. It'll come some day (with even more horrific consequences), but not until she has dragged herself as far as she can go.

Puss In Boots - Death Theme/Dark Souls Remix

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmvsYwR2PRw&list=PLKM_IMyCLovvnaDB61Dp4phnN2ZJcgYdB&index=31

Yes: Puss In Boots. So, beyond her toxic co-dependency & suicidal bravery, she has one other truly defining aspect - if you were to harm, or Gods Forbid kill a client she was hired to protect...cue the Final Boss music. No matter who you are, no matter where you run, she will find you. Amarjeet is sufficiently terrifying enraged that other Contractors have in fact killed themselves rather than face her wrath. No quarter will be asked, & certainly none will be given.

All these thoughts align to the final question: the Inevitable End.

The question is axiomatic: if my ambition is to test myself against all odds, specifically in the field of Close Protection, then at some point I must face overwhelming force - then, it stands to reason, I shall die.

That, in itself, is my ambition.

To rage against the dying of the light.

The final failure holds none of the terror that the lesser ones do, as I will not be around to deal with the fallout. I should devise some Parthian shot, to suit my petty sensibilities & avoid leaving a pathetic corpse.

I find it more than a little unlikely that I will change course. Perhaps if I could achieve some brilliant act of tactical acumen that vindicated my honor to both myself & the entire world - why yes, I would retire from these bloody Contracts that very instant. The power they offer corrupts, as all power does. If not for my need to cleanse myself of shame I would cease the madness immediately & repent for my sins.

Anyone reading these soon-to-be posthumous logs will know that I rather unsurprisingly managed to achieve that goal.

Oh dear God.

Anger?

Anger is the lens through which I see the world.

1) The Reckless & Arrogant - Boastful. Conceited. Those who are so cock sure that nothing could possibly harm them that they are a liability to everyone around them.

"Step aside, plebeian mortals; the Main Character has arrived!"

These buffoons are a risk to any serious operation. usually muscle-bound men sporting beards, tattoos, & more fucking guns than a main battleship. Fortunately such as they would never need a CSP & certainly not a female one at that, unless looking for a quick tumble - this sort has but one use: Cannon Fodder. Encourage their overblown ego & they will gladly eat bullets for your client. Shed no tears for them when they do.

2) The Frivolous & the Mad - Oh, some sort of Cosplayer, are we? Fucking lovely. Whence did the Sorting Hat send you? Into Harm's Way? Well - off you go, then! Ugh...the literal clowns that sign the Contract are a pure expression that these so-called "Harbingers" wish us nothing beyond suffering. How can one form an effective strategy in nigh-impossible situations when the only troops you are given are whatever the Madhouse could spare that day? It is as if some of these Sandbags have no conception of what is at stake, content to navel gaze & smell the flowers while the operation crumbles around them - the solution here is to simply leave them to it: A chain is only as strong as it's weakest link, after all - do not include them in OpSec or strategy. If they miraculously achieve strategic goals on their own, see it as a happy accident & do not expect them to repeat it.

3) The Traitors & Backstabbers - To say that I detest these creatures is simply not going far enough at all. Would that all the worlds faithless had but one neck, so I could purge them all in but a single blow. Cowardice is a more acceptable trait than the kind of sociopathic, single-minded greed & evil that would cause a Contractor to turn on their fellows mid-operation. That I would execute such an individual instantly almost goes without saying. Sadly, it would undoubtedly be much too late by then, the irreparable damage being already done.

My crippling doubts & clinical depression no doubt. That, & the fact that I still have been known to hesitate in improbable situations.

The former really only raise their ugly head when I am not on task. I have found myself listlessly watching BritBox in my flat for hours on end, unwilling to so much as answer my emails as they pile up. My Professional presentation is so important to me because I know it is a sham - a shield against my own doubt & weakness, a facade that i must maintain at all costs.

The latter is even more shameful. As the true, ugly nature of the multiverse has been laid bare to me, I find myself inadequate to the task - my training is not on par with seeing a bloody stillborn God properly aborted from the world. Or dealing with an anomaly where seconds pass like hours. When these events occur, I have been know to freeze up, a thousand possibilities at war in my crowded mind. When that happens, people die. When they die, my facade cracks in a vicious cycle.

This is my shameful secret. That I shall, God Willing, take to my grave.

Ah, to have all the might these strange, mad worlds could offer. To rest on the laurels of countless victories, hard fought & harder won.

Not bloody likely.

In the event it was all to my discretion, we would have a reckoning with the Old Guard, that is for certain! No more the sloppy missions, the meaningless tests - my Contracts would be precise, detailed, & merciless.

I equate the Talent as a toddler throwing rocks, hoping one will strike true.

I see this "Noir" as more of a brute wielding a hammer - a problem will crack if you strike it often & hard enough.

My own Contracts would be a scalpel. Those under my command would be as hard as they were discrete. Those not up to the task would fall by the wayside.

As for names - formality is important, though I will tolerate no foolish moniker or vainglorious title. I would present under the name others have already given me:

The Professional.

Well.

That depends.

If they are on the Blacklist, I mutter a quiet thanks to God that the burden has been lifted from me. It would be untoward to openly celebrate right on that spot, mission first as always - I may not be so restrained after the fact however.

A Whitelist Co-Worker is a more unfortunate affair. If they were currently under Contract I would terminate (with prejudice) whomever or whatever had killed them, then secure their belongings until I could determine if they had a Last Will & Testament of some kind. Since Contractors are essentially power hungry jackals, I may be forced to neutralize the entire group to prevent them from looting the body before the proper measures could be taken.

How unfortunate for them.

If they were not under Contract, I would accept that this is the will of God & perhaps chide them for not having the foresight or liquidity to hire a proper CSP.

As a former member of Protection Command I can say that I do try & be law abiding.

Considering I only last week burned a police station to the ground with a man inside, I would say that my attempts are another matter I fail at rather miserably.

Police are like most blokes - doing their job, collecting a check, "just following orders."

Did you know that most who apply to the police Force will be turned away if they score to high on intelligence tests? It is assumed that if you are to independently minded you will abuse the power of your authority. A fact I have seen play out on numerous occasions.

Police are selected for middling intelligence & a desire to stay in their lane. They are the dogs fed slightly better who will turn on their fellow dogs at the order of their masters. That being said, I appreciate the Rule of Law. In a perfect world Justice would be evenly distributed by clear eyed individuals, warrior-poets who only sought the betterment of society.

That is not the world we have however, so I avoid police entanglement as best I can & retain a solicitor as needed.

Ah, yes.

As most moral quandaries, this depends - the Authorities are often complicit in whatever has gone awry so that may be unwise. My policewoman's heart tells me that yes - I report them. My more calculating side records the event without comment & adds it to these logs as future ammunition. I am, sadly, not above blackmail to achieve my tactical goals.

If my fading heartstrings were pulled by the act in question, I might be moved to act - yet that is unlikely. After all, did I not only recently kill an innocent man? I am hardly blameless, & it is ill advised to cast stones within a house of glass. The actions we take, powers we accrue, & stakes for which we struggle put us beyond the common law. 

Perhaps some day one of us will establish some common council to determine what is & is not acceptable behavior among our kind. Until that day, we must each to thine own self be true.

I find almost all Contracts repugnant. Swarming with foul sorcery, abominations, & the callous actions of arrogant men.

To go on Contract is to swim in the raw sewage that this world produces. To soil oneself in ways you had never guessed you could.

However, it is not a Soldier's duty to question why, it is but to do & die.

It is ironic that I have been called quite bright by my teachers, promising even, & have parents that love me - yet even then, if the whistle was blown I would launch myself over the trenches without hesitation, Not because I am so foolish to think God will protect me, or swollen with pride for King & Country - no, I would do it because it is what I deserve. Also what I want. An end to this wretched story, roll credits.

The one line I will always draw begins & ends with my faith - I will not break Khalsa. I will have no truck with false Gods or Magic. Anything else, no matter how awful, is nothing less than my just rewards.

Oh, I hate them all, most certainly.

The Talent is as insufferable as he is frivolous. This "Noir" is cruel, short-sighted, & piggish in his temper. It is a sad affair that such as these have reached the pinnacle of power & authority - they have forgotten that, all things being equal, if I had run with them at the same time they began I would have had a boot on the throat & a bullet between the eye of both of them.

Pigs. Let's see your omniscience now. If you are reading this, please do materialize so i may tell you to your face: Both arrogant pigs that are due for slaughter.

That being said, this "Falcone" gent seems to have at least some remorse for the actions he has taken. I suppose if I were to have one I hated less it would be him. Reasonable, even humble at times. While he undoubtedly has skeletons in his closet, at least he is civil.

Vendetta...

The word conjures duels on the field of honor, swords at dawn, dueling pistols at dusk, & other such rubbish.

In general, I take pains to leave potential long-term enemies...properly accounted for.

The so-called "God" trapped in some decaying Russian hamlet certainly tops the list of those that have yet to be suitably resolved: while it's attempt to break my spirit failed, I am still unable to fathom a way to destroy it. At least it is imprisoned in the Hell of it's own making.

On a similar note - the OTHER - would-be Deity we destroyed & it's false priest should also be dealt with at some juncture. While they were defeated, they seem to have some kind of rejuvenation cycle - it would warm my cold, dead heart to see them arise again to a mountain of rubble where their precious fortress once stood.

Lately, I have ran afoul of Offr - less than ideal, that. Needs must, however. Finding out the extent of their corruption has left me with little choice but to boycott their services, & consider options for further action if deemed necessary. Unfortunate, as Offr Red is a lucrative platform...even so, a bit of "disruption" may be just what is called for.

As for whom considers me an Enemy?

A great multitude, I should think. Presenting yourself as a rather uncompromising woman has a way of triggering the overweening pride of many an arrogant pig. I would say that my death is less likely to come from the front than from behind, dealt a blow by a so-called "colleague" in a fit of rage at their own appalling inadequacy.

"Boys will be Boys," as they say. As for countermeasures beyond reasonable precautions (what I find reasonable, at any rate - some would call "paranoid obsession") - I maintain these logs with recordings of my various interactions, the better to ruin them upon my untimely demise.

Spiteful? Yes.

"From Hell's Heart, I stab at Thee."

"Oh, thank God."

Beyond that & perhaps a parting shot, I can hardly imagine saying more. It is rather undignified to prattle on as one lay dying, & also a terrible tactical error for others to linger about a mortally wounded colleague.

I must look into some sort of methodology to avoid leaving a rather pathetic corpse behind...details, so many details. Sadly, there are few enough of my colleagues that I would trust to make tea properly, much less carry out any last wishes I might have.

It is with such morbid thoughts in mind that I am compiling this document, is it not? Putting my affairs in order, as it were.

I will confess that I spend an inordinate amount of time imagining all the ways I might get killed in the line of duty. Taking a bullet for a client, leaping on to a live grenade, or losing a coin flip as the case may be. I find such thoughts far from intrusive...almost invigorating.

Note to self: Seek therapy.

Why, all of them of course.

Contrary to what is portrayed in Cinema, a skilled Bodyguard is decidedly not looking to exchange gunfire with would-be kidnappers in dramatic car chases. If it has come to that point, you have already failed & are now improvising.

1) Local Intel: Download a map of the location onto your device. Study it intently - you should memorize landmarks & chart out several escape corridors in the event an incident occurs (which it will). Add any local officials & constabulary to your Contacts. While they may be compromised, you will be glad you have this information if they are not. A deep dive into the history is advised - 100 years at least. Closer to present, make note of any unusual reports & save an offline copy for reference just in case. If possible, pull floor plans of relevant buildings.

2) Basic Logistics: Make certain you have enough supplies to last at least one hard engagement, & at least 3 days of privation. Identify locations that could be raided for additional resources in the event of a siege - recollect that a siege is a losing battle however. Do not let yourself believe that any location is safe. Do not be tempted to burden yourself with additional supplies. If you have failed to sharpen your skills enough to provide for both yourself & the client in the field using what is available, additional supplies will simply make you to slow to react.

3) Operational Headquarters: Identify a reasonably secure area for Ops. This is where your client will go about their business when your attention is needed elsewhere, as well as any Sysop or other technical personnel  will reside who are not field operatives. Physical security IS important here, yet not nearly so much as Operational security - put simply, if the Enemy cannot find your Base of Operations, they cannot assault it. Take care to maintain OpSec at all times.

4) Mobility: I no longer rent vehicles in these operations, simply because it leaves a body of evidence that must be dealt with after the fact. Commandeering a vehicle if one is needed is a risky tactic, however it is an acceptable risk over leaving an information trail. In the event of a less than clandestine operation, a vehicle may be procured normally - ideally an armored VIP affair. Private security companies can arrange rental of such vehicles, remember to charge accordingly.

5) NDIS: If working with other Contractors, it is optimal to have an established Non-Disclosure agreement that is enforced by subliminal safeguards. This way, if the operation does get compromised they will be unable to easily give up information. Once this loose end is dealt with, any remaining physical or digital traces should be eliminated.

Again, all the precautions.

My working arsenal is stored in Flat Space Compression, a technical marvel. So bringing my weapons along is never an issue. As for the rest of my equipment...I do rather enjoy my gadgets. I wouldn't say I need them for a successful operation, however having them does open opportunities. Obviously I will look ahead to see what is or is not forbidden in a given location.

Most of my equipment is quite ordinary though. I expect little trouble from that, quite a bit more will come from Airport security profiling me as a Muslim terrorist - I do appreciate the luxury of a Private Jet where available, & am most certainly not above a HALO drop into a country I have not been formally invited to if the situation requires it.

As for what I bring...well. My equipment list can be rather exhaustive to spell out, yet I can say that I have reduced my minimal operations load to my custom suit, the 5 "K's" & my briefcase where needed.

If it's a mechanical issue, I fix it myself. Again, being prepared for such matters is part of the job.

In the event of a so-called "Act of God" - well, where there is a Will there is a way. Being tardy for an assignment is simply NOT an option.

Commandeering a suitable vehicle is an option, through bribery or force as needed. Fortunately I always leave early to any assignment for recon. Sacrificing such valuable operational integrity to deal with obstacles is unfortunate, yet needs must. This would almost certainly give me some time to find a suitable solution. As my travel arrangements are always of the mundane variety, I have no better solution - I posit that I need no better solution however.

With adequate time I am confident of my ability to overcome any obstacle.

I cannot be late. I must not be late.

To be late...is to fail all over again. That can never be allowed to happen.

I'm sorry?

A mugging?

If such a bloke was lucky, I might leave them capable of walking (after extensive physical therapy, of course).

If my mood had already soured, or I was with a client...well, a trip to a local dry cleaner would be in order I imagine. Fortunately the "Dragon Thread" of the Fier'Te Executif line is impermeable to bodily fluids.

If such an individual turned out to be less than mundane it would hardly make a difference to me - the same amount of force would be applied. Spare me the bleeding heart narrative if you please. When a grown man attacks a lone woman he has already designated himself for execution. In a civilized world, we would simply round them all up & shoot them behind the chemical shed.

Animals. Less than animals.

God forgive me, but the sound of their breaking bones would be music to my ears.

Within arm's reach of my Client. If I have not yet procured a Client, then I imagine I avoid the seedy Pub thank you very much - any intel available would be worth less than the commotion my presence would cause.

If there was a Client, then yes, I would curse my fate & accompany them to the Pub. I would sit near them, monitor for threats, order nothing & return any questioning gazes with my habitual stared daggers.

Back to a wall, eyes on all exits, weapon already drawn from Flat Space & readied under the table. Observation is more of a skill than a talent - I would develop profiles on each person there, running facial recognition & parsing that information through my Interpol backdoor. I would assess likely hostiles & devise ways to efficiently execute them if the need arises. I would nudge the table to see if it is bolted to the floor or if it might be flipped for cover.

Generally, I would have a truly awful time & be quite relieved when we left.

I beg your pardon??

Stolen?

On my watch?

That is patently unacceptable! The very idea that my physical security measures could be circumvented is...is...

Deep breath - the state of affairs is not subject to our wants - it simply is.

Very well.

In this hypothetical scenario, my briefcase & assorted travel bags were stolen while I was asleep, bypassing nested layers of physical security. In this obvious "Koyabashi Maru" event, I would activate the tracking devices on my luggage - if I had a client, this information would be used to avoid what is clearly a Criminal Mastermind with nigh unlimited resources. Such a formidable opponent would be better avoided than engaged, & I would direct my client accordingly. While quite valuable, there is little in my luggage that I cannot replace.

If I did not have a client, then that tracking information would be used to eliminate this enemy with extreme prejudice.