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

[Vegas]

10:43:39 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac smirked and nodded, but it was short lived on her lips.

"Got it. Believe me, if I see my opportunity, I won't miss it." She popped the last piece of orange between her lips as she considered just what she thought she was capable of when it came to de Medici which led her to her next question.

"If we're able to get the case and the AI... Are we going to destroy it?"

[grendel]

11:39:07 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Tristan paused, tilting his head to the side. "I can think of only one reason not to, and that reason is outweighed by every other instinct I have."

He shrugged, turning once more towards the cots. "Your watch."

Mac nodded. "Yep. Sleep well."

If the swordsman replied, she didn't hear it. This building was not as solid as the warehouse had been, or perhaps it was just the smaller area that made it seem colder somehow. And noise, the pulse of city traffic was clearly audible as the morning wore on. After several minutes, she sent a text to Kovacs letting him know she was on duty. It seemed the smart thing to do so he wouldn't try and reach Tristan by mistake. She received a terse reply that included their estimated return time.

Standing, she pulled all the surveillance feeds into her AR so she could keep track while she wandered around. She also wanted to practice utilizing her AR more. The confusion she felt during yesterday's firefight still frightened her, and she knew the solution lay in adapting to the information display that Kovacs used. It wasn't easy to focus past the holographic images playing at a fifty percent mask over her vision, she was either ignoring them or paying too much attention. She also moved them around in her vision, trying out the corners like Kovacs did before moving them to the lower half of her vision. She tried narrow sidebars, too, but those proved to be too distorted. In the end, she moved them all to the upper half of her vision, dividing that section into four equal quadrants for the incoming feeds.

The clatter of the garage door interrupted her experiments, and she turned to see Kovacs' truck braking to a halt next to the Roadmaster. Suda was out of the cabin almost immediately, her face a mask of concentration over the shapeless bundle held in her arms. She disappeared into one of the secluded back alcoves. Kovacs stepped down from the truck carrying a stack of cardboard take-out boxes. He passed one to Mac. She wasn't particularly hungry but she took it anyway, casting a questioning glance at the tall samurai.

"Texas potato," he replied. "Baked potato stuffed with BBQ pork, beans, and coleslaw. Everything you need to keep your energy up for tonight."

[Vegas]

11:56:33 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac did her best to keep from wrinkling her nose, but it sounded about the furthest thing she could have wanted after the orange and protein bar she snagged from Tristan’s stash, but she also knew that if she didn’t make an attempt at eating it, she’d never hear the end of it. The samurai was distracted by managing the food and his attention was split somewhere else to the point that Mac felt like she might as well have been alone in the vehicle bay.

“Did you and Suda get everything you needed this morning?”

“Yes. Did you sleep.”

“Like a rock.”

“Good.”

Their back and forth with small talk questions and near one-word answers continued until the pair descended into silence and Kovacs finished eating, the hood of his truck a makeshift table for the time being, keeping a certain amount of distance between them.

Mac set her food on top of the empty case beside her, barely touched but she needed to clear the air between them before it spiraled out of control or it bled any further into the job at hand. As she crossed the space, Kovacs turned to face her, silent and stone faced as he stared at a point beyond her. Mac chewed on her lip as the tension from the night before swirled around them. They stood just enough distance apart that they could have their silent face-off until one of them broke, and Mac knew better than to think it would be him. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily when she couldn't take the silence anymore.

She barely waited until Kovacs acknowledged her before she leaned forward and placed her hands on the hood of the truck, caging him between her arms. Using her body as leverage and to get him to focus entirely on her, she pinned him back against the quarter panel and raised her arms until her hands pushed against his chest. Her pulse was racing and her words were hard even though her voice waivered as her eyes bore into his. Her hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

"You are the most frustrating person I have ever met.” Mac watched his face, especially his eyes for some kind cue before she continued. “You make me question everything I do, and more importantly feel." As her voice softened slightly, her hands slowly relaxed and she let her fingers spread back out against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath the fabric. She continued before he could voice the question she could see in his eyes or before he could completely close himself off to her again.

"You make me feel something Kovacs...Something real. And it terrifies me, but not nearly as much as the thought of my life without you in it." She shivered against him at the thought, leaning forward until their foreheads touched, their lips just centimeters apart. Her voice was just a whisper as the world outside and around them disappeared into silence as far as she was concerned.

"I don't know how to do this...how to do us, but I do know whatever comes next I don't want to do it without saying I'm sorry."

[grendel]

12:15:42 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Although Kovacs wasn't exactly sure what Mac felt she had to apologize for, he knew that asking would not achieve anything constructive. Instead, he slipped his left arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him so he could kiss her. He could still feel the tension in her body, though, and knew what it was that was driving her. He wished that there was some way to explain, some method to articulate what it was that he was trying to prepare her for. But he couldn't take the time to lay out how easy it was to deal with success, nor just how difficult it would be to survive the trauma of failure. Assuming that either of them lived through that eventuality. He didn't have the language necessary to lay it bare before her without once more crossing into the territory that upset her in the first place. Instead, he redirected.

"You're not the first person who's accused me of being difficult," he said softly, keeping her close, the fingers of his synthetic hand gently stroking the back of her neck. "But you're the first who's stuck around afterwards. Here's hoping I'm worth it."

Mac let out an involuntary half-snort, half-giggle, turning her head up to kiss him again. "Probably not, but the sex is good."

He smiled, leaning back against the truck, his arms still tight around her. "Figures. Girls are always after the dick. And the truck, too."

"Oh yeah," Mac rolled her eyes, resting against him, the tension in her posture gone. "That machine is every girls' wet dream."

Silence enveloped them once more, but this time it was a warm, comfortable one. Mac stared at the surveillance displays in her AR, resting her head on his chest and listening to the dull thunder of his heartbeat. His hands had slipped beneath her jacket, their warmth palpable through the thin material of her shirt.

"Drift will relieve you at seventeen hundred. There's food here for him when he gets up. And some for Tristan as well, I don't know how long he'll be down for. I'm going to get some sleep. Make sure nothing disturbs Suda. Calling up a great form requires a lot of concentration. And if she comes running, hit the alarm and get out as fast as you can. It means something went wrong and the spirit is loose. Nine times out of ten they simply head back to wherever she called them from. But you definitely don't want to be in the vicinity if it decides to stick around and wreak havoc." Kovacs laid out his instructions in something softer than his usual mechanical way. And despite his statement, he made no move to extricate himself from Mac's embrace, the minutes stretching out.

"Thought you were going to get some rest?" she prompted.

"I am," he replied, not moving, his hands tracing patterns over her back. "In a minute."

[Vegas]

12:21:09 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth as she took the extra time to memorize the feeling of his body against hers, the feeling of his hands, the pace of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat. Everything that lent itself to this feeling of calm that had come over her since she apologized. She knew this was the last time they'd get to be this close before the run so she savored every second while she could. Her hands snaked under the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips as they spread across his lower back and slowly but firmly climbed higher.

Though it nearly killed her, after a long few moments of giving into exploring his body with her hands, she pulled back just slightly putting enough distance between them to get her head on straight. She looked up at him, chewing on her lip as the desire burned dark in her eyes and she growled softly in frustration of an entirely different kind.

“You need to rest, and if you let me keep doing that I'm going to need more than just my hands on you.”

[grendel]

12:47:31 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Kovacs chuckled, stretching out his shoulders. "All right. Come find me when you're off watch."

The tall samurai gave her one last kiss before extricating himself from her embrace and disappearing into the back of his truck. Once more silence descended on the warehouse, and Mac was alone with her thoughts. Well, mostly silent and mostly alone. After a minute she could tell that there was a low susurrous of sound coming from the rear of the building. She shivered, recalling Kovacs' words about the great form and what would happen if the cat shaman wasn't successful in her conjuring.

The minutes seemed to crawl by as she watched the AR feeds of the surveillance cameras. She tried to imagine what she would do if something actually happened, if a Winternight cell suddenly found them. There wasn't a big red panic button on the console, and she didn't know if broadcasting an alert over the network would be enough to rouse the rest of the team. Or if it would be enough to break Suda's concentration and set off that catastrophic chain of events. Almost unconsciously her hand found its way to the pistol holstered at her hip.

Mac shook her head. How long ago had it been when the only thing on her had been skin-tight clothes and a condom? Was it just ten days ago that she was lying broken on the floor of Studio Milan? Memories bubbled unbidden to the surface of her mind, dark flashes of pain and fear. The night at Studio Milan. The fight in the alleyway. de Medici. Holly Anne. The fight at the warehouse. Gulfen and Mario.

And through it all was Kovacs, his touch swimming through her mind like a shark through dark waters, a mere presence until it was close enough to strike.

He was simultaneously everything she'd always wanted and everything she'd always tried to avoid. No relationships, no complications, no one behind her walls.

And yet there he was, his mark on her unmistakable. Even now her body ached for his touch, her skin alive with the memories of his rope burning across it, his hands grappling her to him, his fists, his teeth, sweet lord his mouth.

Mac hugged her arms tight around her, staring at the back of Kovacs' truck.

14:19:26 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

The door to the Roadmaster cammed open, and Mac glanced up in some surprise. Given that Drift wasn't slated to relieve her for another few hours she figured he'd take as much time as possible to rest. The ork emerged from the heavy van, stretching his back with a groan. Opening up the rear doors, he rummaged through one of the lockers, pulling out a Dopp kit and microfiber towel, a packet of chemical towelettes, and a five liter jug of water. Without further ado and with no regard for modesty, he stripped down out of his clothes and began showering with the chemical towelette.

Mac blinked in surprise, turning away to give him a modicum of privacy. After a few minutes she heard the water splash, Drift cursing softly at its chill. She waited another couple of minutes before risking another glance. The ork had hung his Dopp kit from the rear door of the Roadmaster, using a small hand mirror sewn into the inner flap to shave. Finished with the razor, he brushed his teeth before cleaning up the kit and stashing it back where it belonged. From the same locker came a clean jumpsuit and pair of boxers. Lacing his boots on, Drift stood and ran a hand through his hair, sweeping his gaze around the back of the Roadmaster. Apparently satisfied, he closed the rear doors and ambled over to where Mac sat.

She gestured towards one of the cardboard takeout boxes. "Kovacs brought lunch."

"Aw yeah, potato," smiled the ork as he opened the top one. Seating himself next to Mac he dug in happily.

"Anything going on?" he asked between bites.

[Vegas]

14:27:13 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac shook her head as she drained what was left in the plastic water bottle beside her before recapping it and tossing it into a trash bag, her half-eaten potato the only evidence left of her lunch.

"Nothing much. It's been pretty quiet so far, thankfully."

Drift grinned around a forkful of food.

"Good. Let's hope it stays that way."

Mac nodded with a slight smile of her own even though she still felt like she was expecting the other shoe to drop. Not that she was overly pessimistic, more like realistic based off the way she grew up. When things were looking up, something always came along to keep her on her toes, or knock her off her feet. She broke her gaze from the rigger's face, her attention pulled back to the truck for a lingering moment before she was focusing back on her AR.

"Anything you need to do that you could use an extra hand with?"

She didn't quite expect Drift to accept her offer being that she was on watch, but she couldn't just sit idly by with as quiet as it had been and not offer to pull her own weight.

[grendel]

14:42:28 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Drift shook his head. "Pretty much all done now. Just gotta wait for the go signal. I do need to make a quick run to the storage unit to get the hard armor. But that should only take me half an hour or so."

Mac nodded, rubbing her hands on her pant legs. "Right."

"It gets to everyone," said Drift, balling up the remains of his potato into the foil it arrived in. "The waiting, the tension. It's just nerves. It's always hard to wait when you know the bubble's going to go up. In some ways it's easier not having a definitive timeline."

Mac blew out her breath in a conscious effort not to shout. "But there's nothing clear! You and Kovacs and Tristan act like we've got everything nailed to the last detail but there's no idea, no answer as to what is really going on!"

"Sometimes you get a little more clarity, sometimes a little less. The uncertainty comes with the job." Drift shrugged. "The Johnson's only tell us what they think is enough to get the job done because anything more and we become a liability, anything less and we may not succeed. Usually it's not enough and we've got to fill in details on our own. But even that isn't all that precise because the people we talk to are all about the latest rumor and third hand info and supposition and conjecture."

He turned towards her. "The things that are concrete in this business? This," he said, pointing to her pistol. "And your team. Everything else is suspect."

"Yah, I get that," grimaced Mac, "I'm beyond it, really. I want to know how you do it, how do you weigh the possible courses of action? How do you pick one outcome over another?"

"If you live through enough of it, you start to understand how the suits think, how corporations train their operators, what they look at bottom line-wise. You develop an instinct for when the job is on the level and when the Johnson is sending you on a suicide run. There's no manual to study, no instruction book. Just the way of the streets."

And just like that it started to make sense to her. The parallel with her old life surfacing in response to Drift's words, how a girl learned to navigate the harsh realities of the pimps and the johns and her fellow sister-whores, who to trust and who not to, how to play off the men against each other and how to keep yourself safe. She laughed, a dark humor to the situation that reminded her so much of how Tristan and Kovacs joked. Drift glanced at her with mild concern, but she shook her head, leaning forward to give him a hug.

"I'll see you when you get back."

[Vegas]

15:26:19 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

She watched as Drift maneuvered the Roadmaster out of the bay and around the other vehicles. Her gaze strayed once the garage door had rolled back down without incident. Something had pulled her attention from the feeds in her AR, and she turned towards it. The volume of sound coming from the rear of the building had escalated and Mac instantly tensed, trying to decipher if it was something that was cause for alarm or par for the course. She cursed her extreme lack of knowledge and experience with magic and relaxed only slightly when she had convinced herself Suda hadn’t exited the back of the building at a sprint and the noise while louder was more sustained and consistent.

She must be getting closer to the end…

Shaking her head, Mac shuffled through her AR feeds as the minutes rolled by, occasionally bringing one to the forefront or enlarging it enough if something caught her eye. The traffic around the abandoned weigh station was scarce and sporadic at best, which made it a great space to take over and clearly be able to monitor the comings and goings in the immediate vicinity. Something nagged at her and she pulled the feed from one of Drift’s overhead drones to near 100% and she focused her full attention on a non-descript beige Americar that was making its way through the nearby surface streets. She watched its path as it navigated around in overlapping loops, much like the way Kovacs had driven the night they had met up with de Medici. Adrenaline began to prickle her skin as she continued to watch the sedan, glancing at the timestamp in the lower corner of her commlink and cursed softly. She gripped the edge of the case she was perched on until her knuckles turned white. Drift had projected his return about the same time that the car had caught her eye. She tried to rationalize the car’s presence silently as she opened up a channel directly to Drift.

They’re either lost or looking for us. And if Drift comes back in this moment he could lead them straight back...

We might have company sniffing around. What’s your ETA? Might want to delay until I can get a better grasp on who, or what is out there.

She captured a set of stills and sent them off to Drift knowing the rigger would quickly pull the drone feeds for himself if he wasn’t actively monitoring them already. She continued to track the movements of the Ford and quietly prayed someone had just wandered off grid instead of the alternative as she slid off the case and waited for either confirmation from Drift or further proof of the Americar’s intentions before she’d move to the back of the truck.

[grendel]

15:41:36 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

I'm five minutes out, I've got eyes on. Get everyone up and ready.

It was the answer that Mac was expecting. She figured it would be better safe than sorry, especially given everything that they'd learned in the interim. In an effort to delay waking him, she moved around the truck towards where the cots were laid out. Tristan was sleeping face down, one arm pillowed beneath his head, the other draped over the side of the cot. She reached out and waggled his foot.

"Tristan!" she called. He was up like a snake striking, his body coiled, a knife in his left hand. Mac jumped back, holding both hands in front of her.

"Whoa!"

"What's up? Trouble?" he asked, his voice calm, his eyes alert. She nodded.

"Biege Americar circling the block like they're casing the joint. Drift is five minutes out, he's got eyes on."

The swordsman nodded, zipping up his armored jacket as Mac talked. His sword came free of its sheathe with a wet hiss.

"Kovacs?"

"Resting." Mac gestured towards the truck behind her.

"I'll get him. Grab your subgun and cover Suda. If anything gets past us, waste it."

Mac nodded, again mildly aggrieved that she was relegated to babysitting the shaman, but she knew the tactical realities of the situation dictated that the team's most combat capable personnel should man the front lines. She jogged to her cot to scoop up the P93, draping the sling over her shoulder and doing her best to recall Kovacs' lessons with the weapon. Tristan pounded on the side of the truck, a sharp series of rhythmic raps. Moments later Kovacs rolled out the back door of the truck behind his Ares Alpha. Data tags suddenly sprouted to life in AR and for a moment Mac was confused until she realized that the swordsman, samurai, and rigger were coordinating and communicating via the graphics.

Already she could see that Drift was moving into position, flanking the Americar as it turned in towards the block their warehouse occupied again. Tristan and Kovacs were out the door like ghosts, moving like shadows across the terrain to their ambush positions. Mac's palms were sweaty on the plastic grip of her weapon, and she desperately wanted to wipe them on her pant legs again. The beige car pulled over to the side of the road. Tension wound thick in the air. Mac stared at her AR display, waiting for the inevitable ripping gunfire.

The driver's side door opened. A man got out.

Mac realized she was holding her breath, and she forced herself to take a gulp of air.

Team, Actual, stand down. All clear, stand down.

She watched as Tristan emerged from his place of concealment, casually strolling the scant few meters to the vehicle. He didn't broadcast his conversation over the net, but Mac could see him gesturing as he and the driver spoke.

The garage door scrolled up in response to Drift's command, the Roadmaster nosing carefully into the warehouse. Kovacs followed, his rifle slung muzzle down over his tac gear. His long strides carried him towards her, and Mac stood, finding an uncomfortable restlessness in her muscles.

"You ok?" he asked, his voice just human enough that she knew he was asking about more than just her health.

"Yeah," she nodded, finally taking the opportunity to rub her hands on her pants. She'd been gripping the weapon so tightly that her palms were ridged from the grip pattern. "Who are those guys?"

Kovacs reached out and captured her hands in his, rubbing them gently. His face, though, twisted in something between disdain and disgust. "Mafia. They're the back up that O'Malley sent. Lucky they didn't get killed. Tristan is organizing them, he'll put 'em to work."

[Vegas]

15:53:49 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

She shook her head, both in disappointment that Tristan’s suspicions about those that O’Malley would send were correct as much as the fact that she had to rally the team in the first place. She cast a glance back towards Suda and was relieved to see the woman unaffected by the close call, as engrossed in her summoning if not more so than she was before. At least there was that upside. Mac looked down to where Kovacs held her hands, letting his touch ground her back to reality and breathed out the remaining adrenaline that made her tremble.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you. Especially for those brainless douchecanoes,” She couldn’t help but smile softly up at him. “From your poker face, I’m guessing you’ve got no love lost for them either.”

She gave his hands a squeeze and took a step away from where she had settled in to watch over Suda, gently tugging him with her. There was a feeling of unease that permeated the space where the shaman was casting that left Mac wanting to put as much distance between herself and whatever Suda might awaken.

“Now that the excitement’s died down, I’m good with giving her all the space she needs. Besides, you still need to sleep.”

[grendel]

16:19:27 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Kovacs let Mac lead them back towards the truck, although he shook his head at her last statement.

"Can't go down for rest now, it would take too long. I'm at a little over three hours, which will be enough to get me through. Especially once we're juiced. Speaking of."

He opened the rear doors of the truck again, flipping back the camping pad and sleeping bag to reveal the utility lockers in the bed. Lifting up the right one, he rummaged through the gear within before coming out with a thin, flat plastic case. Opening it revealed a brace of four single use injectors. Kovacs handed one to Mac.

"It'll be good for about two to three hours. We'll take 'em en route to the target. You ever done jazz or novacoke before?"

"Nova once or twice," shrugged Mac, taking the syringe and dropping it into one of her inner jacket pockets.

"Multiply it by a hundred and that's what it's going to feel like."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "With the jitters and everything?"

"No, it's smooth, you just feel accelerated. The crash is brutal, though, so start a timer when you punch it and keep an eye on it. You're going to want to be sitting down when it wears off." Kovacs shook his head ruefully.

"Lesson learned?" she asked.

"From someone else," he replied, "but definitely one I remember."

He closed the the locker and tidied up the back of the truck. Tristan picked the moment to appear, his sword resting casually over his shoulder.

"All set, they're moving out."

"Good. Grab your hard armor from the back of the Roadmaster and make sure you're good to go. Mac and I are going for food in an hour and then as soon as Suda's done we'll get up on mission time."

"Where are you going?" Food was the only thing that piqued the swordsman's interest, although he followed as Kovacs led the three of them towards the Roadmaster.

"HansBertos."

That answer seemed to please Tristan. "Make mine the special," he replied promptly. The side cargo door slid open at their approach, although Drift didn't move from the rigger couch. Mac could see that the rigger was already suited up in a bulky set of armor. She assumed that it was the hard armor that Kovacs kept referring to. Three heavy duffel bags rested in the back of the van. Tristan grabbed one, then passed it to Kovacs. Mac could see the samurai's name stenciled on it. Kovacs hefted it over his shoulder and headed back towards the truck.

"We don't have time to get you a set of hard armor," he explained to Mac. "It's fit personally to you and you wear it like a jumpsuit."

"Figured that," she replied. "I'll just stand behind you guys."

A wry smile twisted the samurai's lips. "Excellent plan."

[Vegas]

16:25:53 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Sure, provided they don’t get behind us.

Mac managed a smile of her own in return as she reluctantly started back towards the console to finish out her watch. It was well less than an hour now, but she wasn’t about to duck out of her share of the responsibilities. She tossed one last look over her shoulder and laughed softly as Kovacs was already back to reorganizing gear in the back of his truck. Tristan was off to the side, verifying the contents of his own duffle bag and Drift was once again closed up inside the Roadmaster.

As she sat back down and straddled one of the hard cases again, she was surprised with how normal this was beginning to feel. Mac wasn’t quite sure when she a grown more comfortable with the changes in her life, but while the looming tension of the job was still palpable, and she still hadn’t managed to control the ups and downs and spikes of adrenaline, there was definitely a new awareness of each team member’s routines and even their quirks that she found soothing. She fished out her dwindling pack of cigarettes and placed one between her lips before lighting up. Returning her pack to her pocket her fingers brushed against the syringe Kovacs had given her and she withdrew it and twisted it between her fingers as she stared at it almost as if it could bite her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done countless drugs before, but this one with all its warnings, made her nervous.

When she looked up, Kovacs stood near her, his lips compressed in his signature tight line as he watched her as if he could read the thoughts in her head. She slipped the auto-injector back into her pocket for safe keeping and shook her head to clear it.

“Whatever it takes, right?”

[grendel]

18:02:08 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

"Indeed. Whatever it takes," agrees Kovacs, and his words spur a memory in Mac. She wondered, had she known then what she knows now, if she would have been so insistent on staying with the man who'd saved her life only to embroil her in this nightmare. The answer came to her immediately.

Absolutely.

He motions towards the truck. "C'mon, let's get some food for everyone."

"But I still have half an hour left on my shift," she protested. The tall samurai shook his head. "Flexible. People are up and about now, Drift has got the surveillance, there isn't a need to have someone manning the console now."

Mac shrugs. "All right, let's roll."

The ride over to the restaurant takes almost forty minutes, the crush of traffic penning them in. Kovacs let's the autopilot drive, trusting Grid Guide to get them through the stop and go of commuters heading home at the end of the workday. He reclines his seat a little, making it comfortable for Mac to sit in his lap and prop her feet up on the dashboard. It takes a moment to arrange as both of them are wearing/carrying gear, but then she's resting easy against him, his arms draped over her. As much as she wants more, the closeness is enough for now.

Pulling into the parking lot, they disentangle themselves reluctantly and head inside the plain, unassuming storefront. Although they've been to Locus' place next door several times, Mac hasn't really paid attention to the adjacent restaurant. With her eyes on the menu, though, she makes a sudden realization.

"German Mexican fusion?"

Kovacs nods. "Their burritos are really good."

"I don't know, putting sauerkraut in a burrito seems like madness to me." Mac shot him a skeptical look. He shrugged.

"Don't knock it 'til you tried it."

In the end, Mac splits the difference, ordering a knackwurst burrito with rice and beans and a sweet mango salsa. Tristan's special turns out to be three burritos, while Kovacs get himself and Drift a house blend burrito of schnitzel and sauerkraut. Suda gets a triplet of turkey and havarti taquitos. A couple of large bags of tortilla chips and pretzel rolls round out the order. Mac can't resist getting herself a churro. Kovacs chuckles, although it gives her something to snack on while they're waiting for their food to come up.

On the road again, Kovacs lets the truck drive, impatiently unwrapping his burrito and chowing down. Mac thought initially she could wait until they got back to the warehouse, but the smell is overwhelming and the churro did nothing but rouse her hunger. She was surprised at just how good her burrito was. And how large. She barely managed to finish half before calling it quits, and that only a few minutes before the pulled into the garage. Somehow Kovacs had made his disappear. Mac shook her head, a smile on her lips as she mentally compared him to Tristan.

The swordsman was waiting eagerly for them, his eyes alight as they stepped down out of the truck. He held out his hands towards the bags of food Mac was carrying.

"Yes, come to daddy!"

[Vegas]

18:17:13 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac giggled at the over-eager swordsman, tucking the bags behind her back for a minute.

“Have you been good while we were gone?” She flashed him a teasing smile, her eyes dancing as she watched his face.

“I cannot confirm nor deny, for I am a gentleman.” He circled her like she was prey and Mac dangled the bag containing his food in front of him until he pulled it from her hands with a growl that caused a rich laugh to spill from her lips.

“There’s plasticware in there too you know.”

“No need.” Tristan mumbled around a mouthful of the burrito he had already nearly destroyed in just a few bites.

“Animal.”

As the comment earned her a grin, Mac settled up onto the hood of the truck, perching in what had become one of her favorite places just for the warmth alone. She watched as Kovacs delivered food to Drift who remained tucked up inside the Roadmaster before he returned to her and she offered him the space before her against the hood of the truck. Once he accepted, she wasted no time draping her legs around him and snaking her arms around his chest. She was going to take every advantage of staying close to him as long as it didn't interfere with planning and prep for tonight.

As the space descended into a comfortable silence other than Tristan devouring food, Mac nodded towards the bag that contained Suda's dinner she posed the question dominating her current stream of thoughts.

"Any idea when she might be done?"

[grendel]

18:51:09 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Kovacs flicked his glance towards the countdown timer in the corner of his vision.

"Another two and a half hours. According to Suda, conjuring a spirit from the ether is a trivial matter, one that can be done in a second or less. Fixing them so they remain for more than twelve hours, though, takes multiple hours. It's also exhausting, she'll need to go down for a nap until we're ready to depart for the target at 0200."

The samurai rested his arms on Mac's legs, his fingers idly massaging her calves. Tristan was making his way through the second of his three burritos, although he was taking his time with this one. She suspected that he would save the last one for later. Probably a celebratory meal after they completed the job. She let her head rest against the back of Kovacs' neck. He smelled of leather and gun oil and aftershave and sweat. He smelled of home.

Minutes passed as the three of them sat in silence, each with their own thoughts. Although Mac was fairly certain that Kovacs was still active virtually, probably reviewing mission footage, making contingency plans, contacting Isomer with last minute requests. It would fit with his 'no days off' mentality. She wondered if she would ever develop the same mindset and capabilities. She wondered if she wanted to.

Tristan, on the other hand, exuded the same kind of careless relaxation he always did. Having finished his second burrito, the swordsman leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the network console with a satisfied burp. "Weapons checks at 0130 then?"

Kovacs nodded. "We'll start the warehouse pack-up and sanitize at midnight thirty, gear up complete by 0130, weapons check and network purge complete by 0200. Out the door at 0200."

"Juice on the road?"

Another nod from the samurai. "Don't forget to start your timer as well."

Tristan rubbed his thighs with a hint of nervousness which Mac found uncharacteristic until she realized that he probably had never taken a dose of Kamikaze. If it was damagingly addictive in only four doses, it made sense that out of all of them, only Kovacs would have cause to have taken it prior to this run. The knowledge that she wouldn't be the only one adjusting to something new buoyed her spirits immensely.

The swordsman quirked an eyebrow towards Kovacs. "Where you stashing your truck?"

"Rollo's place. Mac and I will head over there as soon as I know Suda's finished. We can cab it back."

Mac blinked. "You're going to trust a cab at a time like this? Back to a safe house?"

She could feel Kovacs smile. "It's a different kind of service, called Combat Cab. They're specialists. Expensive, but worth it."

Tristan stretched again, still humming with satisfaction. "Man, as much as I'm looking forward to this being over, everything we do after this is going to seem so passé."

Kovacs glanced at him quizzically. "Seriously? You said the same thing after we crashed the Arcology. And we were taking bigger guns into that one."

"Wait, I thought you said we were breaking out the big guns for this one?" interrupted Mac.

"We're loading heavy, but we have to move fast once inside. Much faster than we moved during our Arcology run," explained Kovacs. "We knew from a couple of other teams who went in before us that there wouldn't be any resupply, and we had to make sure we could meet any threat with overwhelming force. So we packed in an HMG and a pair of LMGs along with our rifles."

"Plus explosives, and the spikes as well," added Tristan. "One-shot disposable missile launchers," he explained when he saw the unfamiliar look on Mac's face.

"Why aren't we bringing those with us this time?" she asked, only a little facetiously.

"No need. The security at the facility doesn't have the kind of armor or drones that necessitate that kind of firepower. Although we will have some explosives with us, just in case we need to make a door quickly," replied Kovacs. The tall samurai motioned to Tristan, who rummaged through his bag before coming out with a thin cylinder and flipping it to Kovacs, who caught it and passed it to Mac. About the size of a can of shaving cream, but much heavier, the gray canister is labeled Charge Demolition / M121A / with taggant (COMP C-12) / MA-62008-012A.

"It's pressurized with nitrogen, just flip the top off and press down to apply," said Kovacs, pointing towards the attached safety cap while passing her another small piece of gear. This one looked like a small, two-tined fork, maybe eight or ten centimeters in length and about a centimeter thick. "Jam that in anywhere that's thick enough to hold it, but make sure the two points are inside the explosive and not exposed, otherwise it may not detonate reliably."

Mac was only a little nervous handling the explosive, gently passing it back to Kovacs, who tossed it carelessly towards Tristan. "You don't have to use much, C-12 is pretty potent. Just foam a doorway, jab the detonator in, and take cover. It'll punch through just about anything short of heavy revetment concrete."

"The foam and plastic stuff are pretty easy to use," interjected Tristan, tucking the gear back into his bag. "It's the other stuff you gotta worry about. Especially thermite and phosphorus. Don't mess around with those unless you really know what you're doing."

[Vegas]

19:17:44 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac shook her head at the idea of playing with volatile substances that could kill her with no experience.

"No worries of that happening anytime soon, even that stuff makes me nervous."

Playing it off with a slight smile, she nodded in the direction of the swordsman's bag. She hid her tell, her real display of nerves behind Kovacs' shoulder and averted her gaze from Tristan's face to a spot just beside him on the wall. She barely shifted behind Kovacs, her habits of putting distance between herself and whatever made her nervous threatening to kick in. Almost instantly, his hands stopped their gentile circles against her legs, his grip turning possessive and pinning her in place at the moment her thoughts threatened to run away with her. He was so attuned to her already, it was like he knew what she was thinking almost before she thought it. The feeling of his fingertips digging hard into her skin stilled her at once and only relented their grip, returning to their slow and lazy circles once she buried her face into the back of his neck again.

They were developing their own form of silent communication and if Tristan was aware, he gave no indication. The swordsman was stretched out in repose his eyes closed and his feet still up on the console. Mac fished a piece of gum from her pocket, her lips curving into a smile against Kovacs' neck as the sugar and artificial cherry flavor burst across her tongue. She tilted her head and brought her lips beside his ear as she whispered.

"As much as I'd love to stay wrapped around you until the very last second, I don't do well with waiting. Give me something to do."

[grendel]

19:26:15 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Kovacs nodded, but didn't reply, focused instead on something that Tristan had pointed out.

"Shouldn't be an issue, but we can look at it en-route."

Tilting his head back towards Mac, he pitched his voice for her alone. "Not much to do now but wait. You should check in with your friends, though. Tell them to get out of town, or at least somewhere defensible in case the worst happens. Might also want to put the word out to the working girls to get off the streets tonight. It's liable to get rough out there."

His words triggered a snap of tension through her shoulders, and she mentally kicked herself for not thinking of it sooner. Leaning back, she fished her commlink from her pocket, stabbing at the display to route a call to Frankie.

[Vegas]

19:49:21 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac waited for her call to connect, sliding slightly back on the hood of the truck and untangling herself from Kovacs who made no move to stop her this time. She slipped away from the pair of men, leaving them to continue their discussions, as a cigarette found its way between her lips and she paced the floor.

"Hey girl."

"You're alive."

“For now at least. Listen, it’s not much of a social call,” Mac cut off her friend before she could start getting chatty. “There’s a potential for some real fallout from the events of the past couple of days. Some might blow back on you two. Any chance you can bail out of the city for the next couple of days?”

”You know I can’t afford it…”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t serious. Please, for me? Use the extra cash on the sticks I gave you, take our friend and grab a well-deserved vacation,” She shut down the remainder of excuses Frankie might pose before she could open her mouth again. “Can you get the other girls on board? Miranda, Cierra, Vanessa and Brandi Lyn at least. I’m going to notify the network next, can you help blast it wide? It’s already getting late and I know girls are already working… Just promise me you’ll do this, I swear it’ll be the last thing I ask of you for a while.”

”Fine, I’ll do it. Because I know you wouldn’t ask this unless it was this serious. Promise me in return you’ll watch your back and keep in touch?”

“I promise, cross my heart girl.”

Frankie killed the call and Mac knew she was probably already starting to pack and get Mario on board with the plan. She wasted little time sending personal message to the other four girls and a wide-broadcast to the network. She knew some would take her warning seriously and others would scoff at it and chase the almighty nuyen over protecting themselves for a night or two. She couldn't save them all, and truthfully she didn't want to. As long as she could convince Frankie, and a few of the others closer to her to stay safe, her conscience would be clear. She ground out what was left of her cigarette beneath her boot and started back towards the truck.

[grendel]

20:16:47 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac ignored the multiple incoming text messages to her commlink. She didn't have the time or energy to explain herself to those who didn't believe her. Frankie would clear the girls out, no problem. Inevitably there'd be one or two who wouldn't get the message or who ignored the warning. Some girls always had to push. Rounding the front quarter panel of the truck, she pushed those thoughts away. Something was up; Tristan was sitting forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on the display screen of the network console. Kovacs beckoned with his head, and she reclaimed her spot on the hood of the truck, crossing her arms on his shoulders.

"Surveillance is up on our target and the hand-off location," he elaborated. Mac immediately pulled the feeds into her AR, pairing the windows side by side in the upper half of her vision bloc. She was familiar by now with the lines of the off-line storage warehouse, having run through their infiltration exercise a hundred times or so. Nothing seemed to have changed there, the parking lot was full of the usual vehicles, and street traffic seemed to be flowing at a regular pace. It didn't look like any additional security measures had been instituted, or that there was a welcoming committee waiting for their arrival. After a minute, she let that feed fade into the background in favor of the new location.

The area was as de Medici had described it, a large intersection next to a parking lot, with a few single story commercial buildings surrounding it. The area was lit to a dusk level by a handful of street lights as well as security floods on the buildings. Drift's drone was equipped with low-light, the surveillance images clear as daylight from its overhead orbit. As she watched, data tags appeared overlaying the view. An icon representing the Roadmaster dropped onto the map, pulling up streetside next to the parking lot. Numbers dismounted: Kovacs and Tristan, followed by de Medici, Mac and Suda.

"If it were me," said Tristan, "I'd be on the side street there, headed out."

Amber colored icons blossomed in response to his comment.

Either that or the parking lot. The curb is shallow enough to make a direct exit feasible if you've got something with ground clearance. But yeah, side street makes sense. Drift appended his number to the comment.

A series of diamond shaped cross-hairs plotted themselves on the map, three on the rooftop of the closest buildings, two further out on another building to the southwest that had a distant vantage point on the intersection and parking lot.

Can you service these from the Roadmaster? Kovacs asked, his tone sharp even through the network interface. A wedge of color sprang to life from the Roadmaster, the beaten zone of its onboard weapons. Mac watched as it swept the terrain, pausing when the central azimuth intersected one of the targeting crosshairs.

They're in range, but if they're covering from the southwest I'm not going to be able to give you any suppressive fire.

Accepted. I'll take care of it, just make sure you're on if they've got sniper cover. Kovacs turned towards Tristan. "Make sure everyone's got smoke, just in case."

The swordsman nodded. "Check. It's only going to be plain since Five doesn't have ultrasound."

"Accepted. We can have her fall back if we need to deny thermal. We just need to interdict LOS initially." Kovacs stretched, pushing backwards momentarily before resettling himself. "Everyone stay flexible. One, you've got the snipers and suppressive fire. Two, the Johnson and the package. Three will handle anything astral-powered. Four, cover Two and grab the package if he's engaged. I'll cover your movement and handle anything heavy."

[Vegas]

20:26:19 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Mac continued to watch the feed from Drift's drone, committing the details of the street and the surrounding buildings to memory, seeking out every nook and cranny Kovacs hadn't already marked as a threat. She couldn't help but smile as he stretched back against her but it was short lived as more pressing matters pertaining to their upcoming objectives jumped to the forefront of her thoughts. She knew what her part in the 'handoff' would be, but while Tristan had assured her mistakes were forgivable, she wanted to be crystal clear on one thing. If deMedici would still be breathing at the end of this.

"Is anything off the table when it comes to obtaining the case?"

[grendel]

21:08:55 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 17030 228th Ave NE, Redmond Seattle

Kovacs tilted his head, running to ground the various answers to Mac's question. He was quiet long enough that Tristan popped open an eye at him just to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Finally, he shook his head.

"No, just make sure you clear the backstop before you send anything down range. It's going to be close quarters and personal."

"Got it," Mac nodded. She wasn't sure yet what she planned on doing, but it was reassuring to know that when the time came she would have access to all the tools in her arsenal. She glanced at her P93 where it rested next to the surveillance console. Even if she wasn't very adept with some of them.

Roger, echoed Drift. Overhead surveillance will be persistent until we're clear the meet.

Roger, replied Kovacs. Once we're inbound to the meet, tag anything that looks suspicious. I'll make the call whether or not we go loud without provocation.

Mac shivered, and felt the samurai's hands on her legs in reassurance. Tristan stretched again, carelessly relaxed. "Maybe with my share I'll buy a new sword. Maybe go out to eat someplace nice."

"How nice?" inquired Mac, willing to play along with the swordsman's casual banter.

"Dunno. It's been a hot minute since I've been to the Eye of the Needle."

Kovacs tilted his head again. "I thought you were banned from there?"

Tristan grinned. "Nah, I set it right. Besides, it was all a misunderstanding anyway."

The samurai chuckled. "Well, a hundred grand should get you the best seat in the house."

Mac blinked, replaying the negotiation with de Medici in her head. "Uh, wait. I thought you said two hundred for the job for the team?"

"Forty thousand for each of us, then? That would barely cover our expenses," replied Kovacs. "It's two hundred thousand for each, half up front which is the usual stipulation. But we're only going to see the upfront payment. We know de Medici is going to double cross us, he won't even have the other half of the payment with him."

"Drekhead," commented Tristan drily. Mac barely heard him over the buzzing in her head. One hundred thousand nuyen!

"We hold the upfront payment in a team account, and pay for everything required to complete the run from it. Then the rest gets divided up evenly, with the backside payment going to each individual. Works out the fairest since everyone shoulders part of the load for the gear and expenses of a successful run." Kovacs motioned with his hand as if were cutting up a pie as he explained the logistics to Mac.

"Seems fair to me," she replied with false nonchalance, her head still spinning from the revelation. Something changed that brought both Kovacs and Tristan to sudden alert, the swordsman reaching for his blade while the samurai's hand was on the pistol grip of his assault rifle. It took Mac a moment to realize that it was the cessation of noise from the rear of the warehouse that alerted them. She disengaged from Kovacs just in case he needed to move quickly. Luckily it was Suda who staggered wearily out of the shadows.

"Calm down boys," she sighed, running a tired hand through her hair. "We're golden. But I'm going down for a nap."

Both Kovacs and Tristan relaxed, but made no comment as the slim shaman made her way past them and to the cots. She flopped onto hers without ceremony, rolling over once to cocoon herself in the blankets. Tristan leaned back in his seat again.

"All quiet on the western front."

Kovacs nodded. "All right, we're rolling. We'll be back in a couple hours."

Tristan waved his hand. "Yah yah. Be careful out there."

Mac slid off the hood of the truck, climbing into the passenger seat before Kovacs had fired up the engine. Together they rolled out into the night.

21:39:14 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 801 Alder Ave Apt 7, Puyallup, Seattle

Mac recognized the location as they parked in the underground lot, glancing over at Kovacs with an arched eyebrow. The samurai's face, though, was inscrutable in the shadows. He drew her close to him, though, as they rode upstairs in the elevator.

[Vegas]

21:57:26 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 801 Alder Ave Apt 7, Puyallup, Seattle

"This looks nothing like Rollo's place."

Mac's mouth turned up in a smirk as the Possessive grip of Kovacs' fingers against her hip tightened as they continued the short ride up in the elevator, their connection without words unmistakable as her body responded to his shift from all business to acting on his most primal instincts.

Once again the keycard swiped against the maglock permitted their entrance to the apartment as he ushered her in before him. Once inside he closed the door behind them with enough speed and force that Mac jumped slightly. Looking back over her shoulder she watched as he shrugged out of his coat, moments before peeling hers from her shoulders, letting both fall carelessly to the floor.

He stalked her further into the apartment, his steps forward hers back, like a dance as they navigated over their coats, her eyes darting past him to look down the hallway towards the bedroom expectantly, but he had other plans. With an effortless grace he lifted her, setting her on the edge of the kitchenette counter, his satchel deposited next to her with a heavy thud in the otherwise silent apartment.

His hands moved to her hair, clenching at the back of her head, pulling her to him as his mouth bruised her lips with a kiss that sucked the air out of her at its intensity. Kovacs' hands reached for the hem of her shirt, roughly stripping it upwards, baring the skin beneath it to him as she shook her hair free. His mouth immediately found the skin at the curve of her neck, his lips and teeth marking her and sending a rush of heat through her body as she tilted her head back, offering herself entirely to him.

Her fingers clawed at his back, scrambling to strip him of the remaining barrier between them. She craved the feeling of his skin against hers as she yanked his shirt up and over his head. Her fingers slipped behind her back and deftly released the clasp of her bra, letting is fall from her shoulders. Before she could reach up for the straps, his hand captured her wrists tightly, pinning them behind her keeping her from being able to touch him and it drew a growl from her lips as a sadistic smile appeared on his. His free hand deftly produced a length of jute from his bag, a crude but effective column of rope around her arms replaced his hand at her wrists and forced her chest forward.

Without the use of her hands, Mac was forced to get creative in the way she could keep him close to her. Her eyes glittered darkly as her legs wrapped around his waist, forcefully drawing his body tight against her as her ankles locked at the base of his spine. They were both effectively bound by each other, and as Kovacs wrapped one arm around her back and gathered his satchel in the other, she conceded control to him completely as he slid her off the counter.

[grendel]

22:33:48 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 801 Alder Ave Apt 7, Puyallup, Seattle

Kovacs ran Mac into the wall outside the bedroom with bruising force, her hands twisting in their bindings as she growled into his mouth. Turning, he pitched her through the door and onto the bed. She spread herself on impact to keep from bouncing off, curling her legs beneath her to gain some leverage. He thwarted her plans, though, by grabbing her ankles, dragging her pants off and dragging her back until her legs fell off the end of the bed. He pinned her there with a hand in her hair, pressing her face into the bunched up sheet, suffocating her. With a sharp yank, he tore her panties off, a momentary line of fire drawing across her hips that vanished as he slammed into her from behind. Mac cried out at the sudden violation, her head swimming from oxygen starvation, pleasure and pain boiling through her blood. Kovacs wrenched her arms up, using her hair to pull her face out of the covers. Mac managed to get a breath in between her cries before he pushed her face back into the blanket, drowning her. She struggled against him, her muscles burning as he ravaged her, feeling his strength overwhelm her, forcing her to his will. He let her up for air again, timing it with the rhythm of her hips. The sweet rush of oxygen pushed her over the edge, her cries of passion echoing through the room.

She was suddenly free, the rope slithering free from her arms. She pushed herself off the bed, chest heaving, only to feel his hands on her again, yanking her to her feet and slamming her against the wall. He pinned her there with his fists, heavy impacts bruising her back and butt. Her hands clawed against the wall, mouth open and gasping as the endorphins flooded through her. Although Kovacs was relentless, he varied the intensity, working her up with a series of half-powered, half-speed impacts. Mac danced against the wall, arching her back into the lighter blows before crumbling beneath the heavier ones.

She found herself on her knees, a fist wrapped in her hair. Iron fingers jammed themselves into her cheeks, prying her jaws open. She could taste herself on him as he pushed the hard length of himself into her mouth. He held her arms over her head, her wrists captured in his hands as he pinned her against the wall with his hips. She choked, tears streaming down her face as she fought to breathe.

[Vegas]

22:53:19 Tuesday, 16 January 2063 - 801 Alder Ave Apt 7, Puyallup, Seattle

Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, the tears streaming down her cheeks made it near impossible to breathe through her nose and she could only move back millimeters before she was stopped by the wall. She choked and gagged around the length of him, futilely struggling against his iron grip as he continued to press her against the wall with the force of his hips. Toeing the line of passing out, surrendering her last bit of control to him ratcheted up the intensity of the game. As her vision started to grey out she raised her eyes to meet his, silently pleading and full of her submission.

Instantly Kovacs pulled out from her mouth, releasing her wrists at the same time as she fell forward so she could brace herself against the floor on all fours. Gasping for air he gave her only a moment of reprieve before his hands wound in her hair again, dragging her violently away from the wall wringing a scream of pain from her lips, the carpet burning the skin of her hands and knees before he once again moved behind her. He forcefully drove into her with nearly no resistance, the momentum of his body driving hers down against the carpet as he wrenched her arms back behind her holding her with his left hand. His thrusts grew with violent intensity as he used her own body as leverage pressing her face down into the floor, the cool composite of his synthetic fingers gripping the back of her neck as he spent himself inside her, the only moment he ever lost control.

Mac shattered beneath him only a moment after, she lay boneless beneath him as every slight movement of Kovacs' body sent ripples of overwhelming sensation through her, her body clenching around him in the only way she could hold him. She didn't make any attempt at moving, relishing in the feeling of the weight of his body above her as her breathing slowly returned to normal and a sense of calm and control descended on her like nothing she had felt before. In that instant there was no job, there was no fear, there was only him.