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"I'd like to open an account please", I said to the girl behind the desk at Danske Bank.

The incident in the shower triggered an attack from the smokes. As 7emp felt the strange smell of woman, he started rushing around the apartment trying to chase the smell down. He then herd me whimper in the bathroom and decided to re-prioritize his search and destroy plans. As he was about to open the door, I was able to muster enough strength shout "NO", and make the cigarette sign with my left long- and index finger. I didn't want him to see me like this, especially not without the mask. He rushed back into the hall and threw the smokes into the bathroom. "Find her" I said, and he left. Both me and the neighbors could make that out clearly.

Rushing out into the street, the smell mixed with the general decay and lack of garbage disposal that pestered the streets of Køpenhavn filled his nose - making it somewhat useless. His instincts however told him to follow the street southwards, which he did - sprinting. Dashing down the street, people tried to get out of his way. Those who weren't so lucky got a rough one-way ticket to the pavement - head first usually. Despite his weight, he was able to catch a much higher speed than most people. Taking a right turn - following an increase in the woman's smell - he was led into a backstreet. The buildings stood high around him, people's laundry was hanging from the balconies. Everything seemed subtle. Then, from behind a dumpster, the woman appeared. She made a run for it.

Back in my flat, I had begun coping with the effects of the cigarette low and the shock of her visit. Replacing the mask and wearing only a towel, I went into the main room where the bags of cash still was lying with a cigarette glowing in my right hand. 7emp had not opened them. It was hard to tell if he even knew how much cash he actually had brought. Both cases had combination locks, four-digit ones. It didn't take me long to figure them out. I entered 1-3-3-7, took a deep breath and opened the first case.

The scene was quite special - a panda bear in full pursuit of a woman in the middle of Ströget in broad daylight. Children trying desperately to save themselves and their ice-creams, as the couple raced each other in a deadly game of tag. 7emp had more mass, meaning that he could not easily stop for objects. His roar however, served as a powerful horn to the inhabitants and visitors. The woman was clearly more nimble, running in between people and the small booths semi-filled with goods for sale. She hoped to slow him down this way. Outrunning him was out of the question.

As the case opened, I realized there just was too much cash to stow away in the closet. I had to get at least some of it out of the apartment. Not that I didn't trust the general Dane, the money could be put to better use in the bank - generating income for us and allowing Danes a slightly better interest rate. I slammed the suitcases shut again and realized why they had looked the way they did when 7emp arrived. I got myself dressed, loaded my gun and took the elevator down to street level. The bank was just a few blocks away from here. A walk would do me good I figured.

Her lungs simply couldn't take anymore. She had to stop and confront the bear. Dozens of shop stalls and the entire Strøget back and forth later the bear just wouldn't stop. She turned around and saw people fly through the air as 7emp forced himself through the crowd. He was pissed. Usually, his opponents didn't make him run that far. He had been close a few times, but he had lost count of how many times he had scorched himself on boiling cooking oil for Q1 Noodles, flying through the air has he plowed through the stalls. He didn't even think about the fact that she had stopped - he just kept going. Closing in, he charged his paw to finish his victim of with a single vicious slice to the gut. Right before he reached her however, he felt a screeching pain from his left leg. In his haste, he had missed her throwing a bear-trap towards his feet. Now he was pinched, loosing blood at the rate his heart pumped it - which at this state was rather fast. Falling to the ground he gave out a cry which made most people in the street leave it. With his big paws, he pried open the trap - breaking it into several pieces. Another cry of anger left him. The main square, where the showdown was taking place, was completely empty. Reaching into her purse, she fingered on the silenced gun which resided there. The bag was however rather big (a bear trap had fitted in it) and finding it was harder than expected. As she was fiddling around she felt the all too familiar touch of a metal barrel to her neck. "Stop", I said - smoke glowing from the hole in my mask.

A window opened in the Rådhus, and a familiar face appeared. It was HrBjorn. "What the fuck are you doing?! Do you realize the damage you've caused?!". For a second he disappeared from the window, only to re-apear with a Q4 Sniper Rifle. "Now, if any of you pukes try anything before the Hemstapo gets here, your brains will be the new experimental art exposition in the main square this week". He aimed the gun in our general direction. He could, I quickly deducted, aim at anyone of us.

"Hr, I'm about to make a deposition."
"What?"
"Do you see the suitcases I've been carrying? They're packed with cash."
"When did you get so rich?"
"I'm Swedish, what else was there to do? I'm about to deposit it at Den Danske"
HrBjorn made a long pause. He knew how badly the state needed the money.
"Alright, but we don't have a lot of time. You need to get to the bank, and I need to get wasted."

"Follow us. If you don't, 7emp here will eat what's left of your body for breakfast. Your brain will stay here.", I said. Suddenly, dramatic modern classic music filled the street as all three of us started to run across the square - heading straight for Den Danske Bank's office. HrBjorn had already pulled out the Gammel Dansk from his desk in the Rådhus. Hemstapo suddenly came drunk-driving from all directions. HrBjorn acted quickly, firing as many bullets into the cars' engines as he could before the alcohol kicked in. The sniper fire managed to slow down the Hemstapo long enough for us to reach Den Danske. Entering the doors, I kicked the security officer in the gut. After taking his keys I started the small engine which allowed the lowering of a metal curtain - supposed to keep invaders outside. It wasn't bullet proof, but it would have to do for now. Once the curtain was down, I sent 7emp to find the back door - all Danish businesses had one for their compulsory smoke break every hour.

Meanwhile, the scared girl at the counter looked at me with huge eyes as I stated my business: "I'd like to open an account please".

Having dumped the cash at the bank, we left using the back door. Now we would have to sneak back and have a long conversation with this troublemaker. I could only think of where to send her, and the perfect choice suddenly came to me: Iran.