Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 15th-21st Options

[Vegas]

09:15:47 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1410 Walker St Suite B, Seattle

Mac nodded as she brought the steamed bun to her lips and taking a small bite, she was rewarded with the smoky richness of the barbecue pork inside. She understood why anyone would be upset if they missed the opportunity to enjoy the food here. She poured herself a cup of hot jasmine tea, before offering to pour for Tristan as well while he continued to eat.

"So do we have more errands to run this morning?"

Tristan's words about it being unlikely that Winternight would have been able to track Frankie allowed her to relax a bit and not feel like she needed to get to her with the same level of urgency as before.

[grendel]

09:22:39 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1410 Walker St Suite B, Seattle

Tristan shook his head, his mouth full. He paused for a swallow of tea before clarifying.

"Not as yet. I let our erstwhile leader know how the meeting with O'Malley went but he hasn't come back with any further tasking. I wouldn't put it past him, though, given the information we've gotten ahold of. I might have a few other avenues that I should look into anyway. But nothing that would keep us from stopping past your friend's apartment."

The swordsman left unsaid the part about 'after second breakfast', although Mac thought he might be slowing down. She, herself, was pleasantly full despite having only nibbled at the bao. The shu mai had done their part, as well as the sticky rice balls. She sipped her tea and watched Tristan maneuver his chopsticks with the same skill and efficiency he showed with a blade in his hands. At last he sat back, a warm smile on his face.

"All finished? Let's get going, then."

[Vegas]

09:39:42 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1410 Walker St Suite B, Seattle

She nodded and pushed away from the wall, stretching her legs back out in front of her from the ball she had compacted into as she started to slip her jacket back onto her shoulders and zipped up the front.

"Her place doesn't need to be the first stop on our list if you've got places you'd rather visit first. If I won't be in the way that is." Mac paused as she slid halfway out of the booth and looked up at Tristan as he settled his coat onto his shoulders. "Besides you made me promise to remind you we were bringing something back for our erstwhile leader as you so affectionately like to call him. I'd hate to see you get on on his bad side."

She flashed the swordsman a wink and a smile while he flagged over one of the waitstaff and placed an order to go. It didn't take long before they were walking back out to the Shadow with insulated boxes of delicious smelling Chinese.

[grendel]

09:46:07 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1410 Walker St Suite B, Downtown, Seattle

"Nope," replied Tristan, settling behind the wheel. "Yours is the only errand on the list."

He paused for a moment with the engine running, sniffing the air. The car was rapidly filling with the smell of the dim sum from the takeout bag in the back seat. Tristan stepped out and moved it to the trunk. Mac shook her head.

"How do you find time to do anything other than eat?"

The swordsman shrugged. "There's twelve other hours of the day."

10:02:15 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Tristan circled the block a couple of times before finally parking the Shadow curbside. None of the vehicles littering the parking lot or the nearby streets and alleys aroused suspicion, no unmarked gray vans, no idling trucks or cars with multiple passengers in them. The foot traffic all seemed innocuous as well, Mac anxiously scanning both sidewalks for anything that might betray surveillance or an ambush about to be sprung.

"Looks clear to me," said Tristan. Mac nodded reluctantly. Despite her continued misgivings, she couldn't point to any evidence that her fears were justified. She checked her pistol once more just to be sure, then exited the vehicle alongside Tristan. In the harsh morning light, the worn facade of the building looks even more cheap and tawdry. She found it hard to believe just how long she'd remained a resident, and yet how distant those times seemed. She and Tristan rode the elevator up in silence, although the swordsman punched the button for the floor below Frankie's apartment. Mac glanced at him.

"Just in case you're right," he smiled. Together they cleared the hallway before exiting the elevator, turning right and moving silently through the door to the stairwell. Tristan checked both landings, ensuring that no one was poised to ambush them before once more clearing the hallway outside Frankie's apartment. So far, it appeared Mac's fears were unfounded. She felt herself relax minutely, nodding in response to Tristan's questioning glance. She knocked on the door to Frankie's place. After a minute, footsteps sounded and the door opened.

"Hey," said Frankie, looking much the same as the picture she sent earlier.

"Hey," said Mac, unsure. She hovered in the doorway, her eyes glancing left and right before finally settling on her friend. Noise from the trideo plays in the background, but nothing appears out of the ordinary. She can feel Tristan behind her conducting his own scan, ready to react at a moment's notice should her worst fears be proven correct. The moment passes, though, without armored Winternight soldiers pouring from ambush positions. Instead, Frankie reaches out and hugs Mac.

"Thanks for coming."

[Vegas]

10:08:39 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac found herself holding her breath as the seconds dragged on and she tilted her head just slightly as she willed herself to listen beyond the flimsy door and into her friend's room. She knocked firmly a second time, only then she could hear the sound of movement behind it. Mac flexed her fingers slightly, swallowing hard as she heard the locks release and the door opened only a crack.

Her friend stepped out and embraced her tightly and Mac couldn't help but let out the breath she'd been holding in a rush and hug the chocolate-haired girl tightly.

"You didn't call before you came over." Frankie's tone was tense and brusque as she brought her hand slowly to her face and rubbed at her red and tired eyes. "I guess I fell asleep waiting."

"It's Ok Frankie, I'm here." She felt her friend tense slightly as she spotted Tristan leaning against the wall. "Frankie this is Tristan..." She started as if just saying his name was explanation enough. "Tristan, my best friend Frankie."

Mac's eyes shifted from the curiosity on her friend's face to just beyond her as she tried to get a better look inside her room, still unable to completely relax and not to jump at the shadows. She watched as her friend's gaze raked over the swordsman with a hint of appreciation on her face, tearing her eyes away she pinned Mac with a look.

"So is he the guy?"

Mac couldn't stop the exasperated sigh, nor the rolling of her eyes as she shook her head. She figured her friend must not have remembered much of last night when Kovacs had been there, and she found herself oddly relieved that she could still keep him somewhat of a secret.

"So can we come in, or are we going to hang out here until Wayne comes to crash the party?"

[grendel]

10:15:26 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

"No, I'm not the guy," replied Tristan with a smile. "I'm much more handsome."

Mac elbowed him as he walked past into the apartment, trying desperately to shoot a look at Frankie but her girlfriend wouldn't have any of it.

"She wouldn't tell me anything," groused Frankie, following the swordsman. "How well do you know him?"

"We're like brothers."

Mac shook her head. "This is so not happening now."

Mario took the opportunity to appear from the bedroom, still moving slowly. He favored Mac with a smile. "How you doing?"

She still had her defenses up, years of street work giving her an armored soul, but there was something honest and unassuming in Mario's tone, something that made her want to trust him and tell him the truth.

"I'm better," she said softly, reaching out to give him a reassuring touch. "I don't think it's fully sunk in yet."

"Yeah, me too," said the bouncer, looking down at his hands. "I'm gonna miss that guy."

[Vegas]

10:21:01 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac found herself reaching her hand out to Mario's arm in a gesture of comfort, she barely knew the guy but she knew he was "good people."

"I'm really sorry about your friend, if I had known what we were up against..."

Shaking her head she trailed off the rest of her statement as it didn't need to be said, as the two of them finished the sentence with a look between them. She looked over towards where Tristan was holding court and speaking conspiratorially with her friend and she groaned despite the soft smile on her lips. There was a sparkle back in Frankie's eyes that wasn't there 10 minutes ago as she did her best to flirt with the charming swordsman.

As she and Mario joined the pair before things got too out of hand, Mac sat on the edge of the table and shifted her gaze between everyone.

"Are you two ok? You asked me to come by... What do you need from me Frankie?"

She kept her tone soft as she was inquisitive, knowing she and Tristan were on a deadline, even if he wouldn't voice it.

[grendel]

10:28:43 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Frankie turned away from Tristan, sliding closer to Mac. "I just wanted to see you again. It was a crazy morning and things were said."

Mac put her arm around her friend. "More things should probably be said. Better things."

She felt Frankie shiver, her arms making the embrace mutual. Tristan moved in the periphery of her vision, although she wasn't sure where until she heard Mario.

"Yeah, it's a double sausage, double pepperoni Chicago style."

"Oh hey, Fellini's. One of my favorite places."

The microwave started.

"I hope you didn't want any more pizza," Mac said quietly. "Tristan will eat it all if you let him."

"Oh." Frankie sniffled. "I guess that's fine."

[Vegas]

10:52:14 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac gave Frankie’s shoulder a squeeze as she steered her friend towards the bedroom so they could continue their talk with a little more privacy. She shut the door slightly and let her friend take a seat on the edge of the bed while she chewed her lip and tried to figure out everything she wanted to say as she paced the floor slowly in front of her.

“You’re really ok? I mean as much as you can be right now?” She paused her steps to really take a look at Frankie.

“Physically sure, mentally…” Frankie shook her head and looked on the verge of tears again and it threatened to bring Mac right back into the emotional tornado from hours before if she let herself get sucked back in. She sunk to the bed beside her friend and held her close as she was trying to force back the feelings of guilt that were flooding over her. She felt the warm tears before she heard Frankie’s sobs and all she could do was hold her tighter and let her fall apart in her arms.

Time passed and she let Frankie get it out of her system as she could hear snippets of the conversation going on in the living room around mouthfuls of pizza. Finally Frankie pulled away, wiping at her face and nose with the back of her hand and apologizing for soaking Mac’s shoulder.

“Don’t even think about it sister.” She tried to smile but it was a laced with grimness as she pitched her voice even lower when she continued. “Look, I need to talk to you about last night and I need to ask a couple of favors from you.”

She could read the confusion in her friend’s eyes, mixed with the anger that shimmered just beneath at the thought Mac would ask anything more of her. Before she could open her mouth to protest however, Mac continued.

“Last night we got in too deep, like way over our heads too deep and I’m never sure I’ll forgive myself for putting us there. Or for what happened to them,” Mac swallowed hard over the thought, but forced herself to continue, unzipping her jacket and pulling out a credstick that she pressed into her friend’s hand. “This is what I need to ask of you, of Mario too, can you both just keep a really low profile for the next two or three days? There’s enough on that stick to grab a decent hotel room, order in and just not be here for a little while?”

Confusion started to mix with nervousness in her friend’s eyes and she started to protest, trying to give the money back to Mac who refused in no uncertain terms to take it back.

“Frankie, I’m not kidding. Those guys last night were bad news, like worse than bad really. I just want you two to be safe for a few days so I can try to get you out from underneath it. I’m really talking about going off the grid girl, no work, no clients, no clubs… You get the idea right? The only time I’ll reach out to you is to tell you you’re in the clear otherwise…” She took another deep breath and let the final shoe drop. “You remember your friend that you gave me his number the other day, when I said I was in trouble? You need to call him and you need to ghost if I can’t fix this.”

Mac watched as her words sunk in, Frankie’s eyes going wide with the fear of just how bad this could really get before she nodded her understanding. Mac stood up quickly and walked to the door of the bedroom and opened it wide before she looked back over her shoulder at her friend.

“You can hate me later, I just… I don’t want to lose you too.”

She walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, throwing on the lights and fan with a little more effort than was needed to flip the switches. Mac hopped up on the small counter in the bathroom and rose to her feet, leaning against the pebbled plexiglass that made up the shower surround she fished her cigarettes out of her pocket and quickly placed the black and gold filter between her lips as she lit up. She inhaled deeply and smirked at the curious look that crossed Tristan’s features.

“You live here long enough you learn to circumnavigate rules and procedures.” She said with a shrug as she blew a stream of smoke up into the vent.

[grendel]

11:04:36 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Tristan cocked his head to the side with a quizzical look on his face. Mac correctly deduced that it meant why are you explaining to me that you're a rule breaker?, although she wondered at his continued presence right outside the door. The moment passed through awkward to uncomfortable.

"What?" she finally asked, cigarette dangling from her lips.

"I have to pee," said the swordsman with a shrug. "Just waiting for you to finish."

"Ofercrissake," sighed Mac. She pinched out the cigarette with her fingers, tucking the usable remainder behind her ear and exciting the bathroom with a flourish. "The throne is yours."

Tristan curtsied before stepping inside and closing the door.

"I'm starting to think maybe he's the Other One," observed Frankie drily, leaning in the open doorway to her room. Mac threw up her hands in disgust. "You people are all incorrigible."

Mario glanced up at Frankie from where he sat on the couch. "She finally figured that out?"

"What, you thought people paid her for her brains?"

Mac punched her sister whore on her non-injured shoulder. "Hey!"

[Vegas]

11:08:19 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac shook her head with mock indignation but it didn't last long as the smile on Frankie's lips was infectious and it spread amongst the trio until the three of them were laughing by the time Tristan stepped out of the bathroom, cocking his head quizzically as their giggles slowly faded. Mac's eyes flicked over towards the swordsman before they went back to Frankie and Mario.

"Guys, I need to get him out of here before he eats you out of house and home." She licked her lips and smiled towards Tristan purposefully feeding into Frankie's assumptions.

"Seriously though, you two look after one another ok? Call me if you need anything... I mean anything Frankie."

Her friend nodded a second before she hugged her fiercely, whispering in her ear.

"Be careful Mac." Frankie stepped back and reluctantly let her friend go. Mario stood up and offered his hand to Tristan as Frankie turned towards the swordsman with a smile. "It was great to meet you Tristan, promise me you'll keep her out of trouble, ok?"

[grendel]

11:08:19 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

"Me?" Tristan laughed. "You say that as if she would ever listen to anything I say."

Mac shooed him out the door before he could say anything worse.

"You have good friends," observed the swordsman as they rode the elevator down.

"I've known Frankie for years. Sometimes she's the only thing that keeps me sane." Mac didn't want to dwell on it longer, The Stable still held too many bad memories for her, too much baggage still lurking in the unwashed corners of the building's hallways. She was glad to be out and into the brightness of the noontime sun, even if the wan light did nothing to offset the chill wind. She zipped up her jacket, then paused to light the interrupted cigarette.

"Where to now?" she asked.

"Warehouse," replied Tristan, opening the driver's side door. "Gotta get this food back to Kovacs and see what the results are from the rest of the team."

Mac nodded, taking a last drag from her cigarette before flicking the butt into the gutter.

11:51:27 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs very deliberately left his bao for last, a look of mournful delight crossing his face as he savored the sweet dough and tangy barbecue pork. Tristan was peeling an orange for himself, one of the last bits of fresh fruit in his stash. Mac sat perched on the hood of the truck, her legs hooked around Kovacs' waist while her arms rested on his shoulders.

"Drift and Suda are due back in half an hour or so, and I think they've got something for us," said the samurai, between bites.

[Vegas]

11:57:19 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac smiled softly as she could practically feel Kovacs' enjoyment while she was wrapped around him and she leaned forward, her lips beside his ear as she whispered.

"They're almost that good, aren't they?"

Her legs tightened around his waist as one of her hands snaked around, her palm up in request as she shot a look towards Tristan.

"Spare a slice?"

Mac smiled like the cat that ate the canary as the swordsman begrudgingly handed over a perfectly peeled section of orange.

"Thanks for being a gentleman."

She couldn't help but chuckle as Tristan scoffed as she bit into the orange and had to stifle the soft moan as the juice hit her tongue. She couldn't remember the last time she had an orange and she took her time savoring it.

"So we got what we hoped for from O'Malley, any idea what Drift and Suda are bringing back?"

[grendel]

12:06:41 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"A target," said Kovacs, the matter-of-fact tone in his voice chilling Mac. "Suda's text didn't elaborate but apparently we're not the only ones who've had a run in with the Winternight cells. It seems that multiple factions are at work trying to intercept, as well as aid and abet."

"Corporate?" asked Tristan. Kovacs nodded.

"It's across the board. The only time I remember seeing it like this was during the Mob Wars."

He finishes the last of his bao, before dusting his hands together. He rubs them across Mac's thighs before letting his hands rest on her knees.

"Make sure your P93 is ready to go. We're going to load heavy for this visit."

[Vegas]

12:22:56 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Fighting the chill that ran through her, she managed a solid nod of understanding, all traces of joviality gone from her voice.

"Got it."

The reality that things were only going to get progressively more intense and more dangerous as they moved towards Wednesday morning was clarified with Kovacs’s choice of weaponry for the afternoon. As much as she didn’t want to disconnect from the samurai, she nudged him forward enough that she could slide off the hood of the truck.

Mac made her way over to where gear was neatly piled and retrieved the soft case that contained her P93 before laying it out on top of one of the many plastic totes that would function as a makeshift table. She decided to make the best use of the time waiting for Suda and Drift's return as she freed the weapon and ejected the magazine and carefully cleared the chambered round setting it along side the magazine. Drawing on Kovacs' instruction back at the house, she went over the weapon with slow, deliberate care readying it for whatever awaited them upon their teammates return.

Satisfied with her inspection, she reloaded the ejected round, reinserted the magazine and primed the weapon. She then replaced the P93 in the case and checked the pockets for the additional empty magazines as her eyes raked over the stack of gear looking for the proper ammo cans to load them.

[grendel]

12:37:28 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

It was entirely too long for Mac's comfort before the noise of the garage door opening announced the arrival of Suda and Drift. Both Tristan and Kovacs finished their gear up with smooth efficiency, lapsing into the casual restive awareness possessed by great hunting cats lounging in the heat of the veldt. She had no experience to fall back on, the heavier submachine gun weighing on her mind as it did on her shoulder.

As soon as the Roadmaster pulled into the warehouse, Mac was on her feet. She immediately regretted her motion as both of the others remained seated, knowing that they'd have to get the details from the advance team before a plan of action could be drafted. By accident or design, Suda was out of the Roadmaster before the heavy van was fully inside the warehouse, her eyes blazing. That unusual situation was enough to cover Mac's abortive movement.

"Multiple teams in town. They're setting up last minute distractions to hamper Lone Star. I think they're trapping the girls with bombs."

"That matches with what Mac saw last night," replied Tristan. Kovacs glanced at Drift, who nodded.

"All right, mount up. Drift, roll us in hot with overhead visuals. Suda, let's go with conceal from your spirits and save your concentration in case we need you to pull someone's finger off the trigger. Tristan, Mac, you're with me. We'll go in the front behind a flash-bang. Make sure your respirators are on. We'll assume Suda's intuition is correct and the girls are rigged to blow, so put your targets down quick, don't hesitate to shoot."

Suda nodded. "Goddamn right." She snapped her fingers, and one of her spirits shimmered into existence. Mac didn't hear her muttered command, but she saw the spirit nod and the ethereal creature proceeded to fix each team member with a momentary stare. She expected to feel something, but couldn't detect any change. She swallowed hard, following Tristan and Kovacs into the back of the Roadmaster.

[Vegas]

12:31:19 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

As the rest of the team got settled in the back of the van, Mac found her seat and closed her eyes, trying to calm the emotions that stirred just below the surface. Thinking about how these Winternight cells were using her sisters and friends enraged her and she bit back the anger. She kept herself eerily silent and still as Drift maneuvered the Roadmaster towards their destination.

Everything about the ride was both foreign and yet becoming familiar all the same. She tried to pay attention to the limited conversation taking place around her, yet she was finding it hard to focus. Her new life was like a constant rollercoaster, and in a brief moment of clarity certain observations about her teammates snapped into focus. Why they were the way they were and certain quirks she had picked up on made a little more sense. For some reason or another the thoughts calmed her slightly and she refocused her attention on the conversation in the van.

[grendel]

12:51:08 Monday, 15 January 2063 - northwest bound I5 out of Tacoma, Seattle

Visuals coming up.

The meter square flat screen in the center console of the Roadmaster flickered simultaneously with Drift's statement, the usual status and navigation graphic replaced by real time overhead surveillance. Mac assumed it was from one of his drones, since the view responded to Kovacs' silent commands, rotating and zooming in. Several seconds passed, and data tags spangled the display. Other graphics rezzed in, a heavy dashed line representing the Roadmaster's approach, an icon for Suda with FOV overlay, as well as three more icons representing her, Kovacs and Tristan. The former had his Ares Alpha slung muzzle down across his chest, while the latter held a flash-bang grenade in his left hand. Mac's palms were sweaty and her stomach knotted. This was worse than last night. Not only did she know what was coming, she knew what would happen if things went wrong. She tried to swallow, only to find her mouth bone dry. Kovacs reached over and put his hand on her thigh. Though his face was iron hard, cold and impassive, the simple gesture managed to calm her racing heart.

[grendel]

13:12:46 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

The sliding cargo door of the Roadmaster cammed open even before the vehicle was at a full stop, the cabin of the heavy truck filling with the chill winter wind. Kovacs and Tristan were out the door at a run in a move that bespoke years of practice. Mac was behind them as quickly as she could, feeling like a clumsy elephant as her submachine gun banged awkwardly against her armor. Kovacs slapped a dollop of foam explosives over the maglock on the door, curling back away from it to meet Mac, pinning her against the wall in a disturbingly familiar way.

Fire in the hole.

The breaching charge went off with a flat, electric snap, a halo of smoke rising into the air. Tristan tossed the flashbang through the slight opening, twisting away afterwards. The grenade detonated thunderously, and Mac's skin prickled with the memory of her experience just a night ago. Kovacs was already through the door, his assault rifle stabbing rounds downrange. The muzzle blasts sounded hollow and muted in the aftermath of the grenade. Mac moved behind him, the butt of her submachine gun snugged into her shoulder. Although she didn't remember him moving, Tristan was somehow in front of her, his body low as he wove past Kovacs, the long chrome sliver of his sword held behind him. Figures moved in the smoke and shadows, and someone was screaming. Mac shook her head, her vision crowded with data from Drift's overhead surveillance drone, as well as a remoted view from Kovacs' eyes. Desperately she wiped a hand through the air in front of her, clearing everything from her AR. Gunfire stabbed close at hand, rounds whining past her head. She ducked instinctively, seeking the comfort of the nearest wall.

Mac, check left, one shooter.

The command came via the team's net, the short electronic instruction anonymous but she knew it was from Kovacs. Shuffling forward, she twisted her body through the doorway on her left, leading with the stubby barrel of her submachine gun, eyes wide in an attempt to drink in all the possible information from the chaotic scene. Movement drew her attention as a shadowy figure rose from behind a cheaply upholstered chair, arms outstretched in a firing stance.

[grendel]

13:12:47 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

Mac did her best to remember everything Kovacs had taught her that day on the range, pulling the butt of the weapon into her shoulder, her palms slick where they held the pistol grip and fore end. The green crosshair of her smart link jumped wildly over her target as she jerked the SMG into position and pulled the trigger. The recoil hammered her, muzzle flash bright from the gas vent on the barrel. The figure ducked instinctively, his gun discharging anyway. The bullet whined away somewhere, hopefully not where he was aiming. Mac slid further into the room, time moving in slow motion as she desperately sought cover of some kind. The figure turned faster, the muzzle of his pistol yawning wide.

Kovacs put six rounds from his Alpha through the figure's torso, responding automatically to the gunfire directed his way. Mac slid to a stop against the wall, watching as the body on the floor twitched spasmodically. The air was thick with combustion residue and dust from the concussion grenade, shaken loose from every surface, as well as the swirling vapors of propellent, and the harsh coppery scent of blood. Someone, somewhere was screaming.

"Clear?" asked Kovacs.

"Clear!" called Tristan from another room. "Clear!"

The tall samurai scanned the room he was in before looking at Mac. "Clear?"

She swallowed, her throat dry. The action threatened to empty her stomach. "Clear," she wheezed.

[Vegas]

13:12:58 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

In that instant, Mac was grateful for the wall behind her that was doing more to hold her up than her own legs. Her eyes were unfocused, staring at some unfixed point near the body that continued to bleed out in front of her. She was aware of Kovacs' proximity to her, still tense and on alert, and vaguely aware of Tristan elsewhere in the building and closing back in on their location. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, an irrational anger mixing with her valid frustration as she realized once again Kovacs had to rescue her.

"How many were there? I want to know if the other one from the hotel was here, or if he's still out there." Unable to completely contain her emotions, her voice was edged and harsh.

[grendel]

13:13:41 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

"Six, including the one you shot there," replied Kovacs, either unaware or uncaring that Mac had missed her assigned target. He was already moving back towards the rear of the building. "Watch the front."

Tristan came over the net. Actual, Two, we've got two survivors wired with explosive vests.

Kovacs paused, taking a step back. Two, Actual, hold 'em where they're at in case they're trapped. One, get your tools and get in here.

The tall samurai turned back to Mac. "Let's go, it's enough risk for two of the team."

She was about to object, angry and raw and adrenalized from combat, but the look on his face brooked no dissent. She followed him out through the ruins of the door, passing Drift halfway across the street. The rigger was unrecognizable behind his bulky armor, helmet, and face shield. He jogged past, a bulky duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Suda leaned out passenger side window of the Roadmaster, pillowing her head on her crossed arms.

"You buff him?" prompted Kovacs sharply. Mac got the impression he was unhappy with the shaman, who waved her hand languidly.

"Yep, he's primed."

Kovacs nodded, shuffling the magazines for his Alpha around on his battle belt. He glanced at Mac's SMG. "You reload?"

She shook her head, fumbling to eject the magazine from the buttstock of the weapon and replace it with a fully loaded one.

"Mother of FRAG!" she cursed as she dropped it. Kovacs glanced at her, then back towards the door of the building.

"Adrenaline closes off the small blood vessels in your extremities, robbing you of fine motor control," he commented tonelessly.

[Vegas]

13:15:22 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

Mac's mouth twitched as she bit back the words that jumped to her lips. Her view of Suda out of the corner of her eye helped keep her silent as she wasn't about to give the shaman the satisfaction of watching her come unglued. Instead she drew a set of long deep breaths until she gained a better handle on her emotions and her fingers regained some of their dexterity and she reloaded the magazine.

A mask of calm slipped over her features and she fed on the projected feeling until she actually started to believe it. Her eyes slowly swept across the front of the building and up and down the street as she closed the distance between her and Kovacs.

"Has he done this kind of thing before?" She asked quietly.

[grendel]

13:18:43 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

"Once or twice," replied Kovacs, his voice tense. Mac glances at him, wondering what it was that had him on edge. She remembered, suddenly, that she had cleared all of her AR data. With a quick gesture, she echoed his display and felt her own guts tighten. Red carats only a few blocks away indicated Lone Star presence in response to the gunfire and explosions. She watched as Kovacs shifted the ride of his assault rifle, casually turning in place until he faced the most likely ingress route of the police cruisers. He didn't say anything over the team net, though. Mac assumed he was relying on the passive AR information update to highlight the threat, as well as not wanting to distract Drift in case he was in the middle of a delicate operation. Seconds ticked away.

Actual, Two, on our way out. Plus three.

Kovacs's rifle was at the low ready. "Get the door," he instructed Mac. "They may be injured and need help getting in."

She nodded, resentful for a moment at being delegated a menial task. But then the realities of the situation asserted themselves, and she realized that Kovacs was the only member currently equipped to deal with Lone Star should the cops arrive before the team was gone. Letting her submachine gun drop on its sling, she muscled open the sliding cargo door. Turning back towards the building, she was in time to see Tristan moving quickly across the parking lot, leading a trio of disheveled looking women. Drift brought up the rear, toolkit slung on his back and shotgun cradled in his arms. As the group neared, the last girl in line looked up to meet Mac's eyes, and both of them gasped.

"Anastasia?" exclaimed Mac.

[Vegas]

13:19:57 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4071 Charter Road Unit 3, Downtown, Seattle

Mac found herself at a loss for words as her eyes met another familiar face and when the recognition hit she was struck with a new wave of emotion and the questions swam through her head.

Just how many girls did they grab over the past few days…

Mac forced herself to shake her head and step back when her friend went to embrace her. She could see the hurt cross her friend’s features followed by the confusion as she took in the sight of the SMG hanging at her hip. Mac knew their window for getting away cleanly was quickly disappearing just by the subtle shifts in Kovacs’s body language and the slight raise of his Alpha in her eyeline just over her friend’s shoulder and she wasn’t willing to jeopardize her team over a reunion with Holly Anne.

“Later. There isn’t time.”

Her tone was clipped, but the relief on her face betrayed her efficiency of ushering the girls into the back of the heavy van. Once they were inside she stepped aside as Tristan and Drift made their way inside and the rigger quickly cammed the door closed with urgency. Mac glanced over towards the tall samurai and before she could complete the short ‘They’re in,’ he was already in motion towards the driver’s side door. She ran to the passenger side and climbed up as Drift fired the heavy diesel engine. She was barely inside when they started away from the warehouse.