"It was normal," says Jack. I mean it's not the first time they've ganged up on him by far.

...At some point in his life he should start wondering if maybe his splicer attack experience is a little more, uh, dramatic than Sinclair's. But today is not that day.

He leads the way out towards the door, still keeping an eye out for any latecomers. Outside the bathy station is a nice little scene of carnage -- four splicers, one fresh from the burn ward, two shot, one hard to determine because he's been opened like a box. His broken ribs point upwards to the ceiling and inside is a torn-up mess.

Probably best not to ask.

Jack carries on, as casually as he ever does when he's on patrol, and doesn't even look at the bodies.