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

[Vegas]

23:23:04 Sunday, 21 January 2063 – northbound on 140th Ln, Redmond, Seattle

Mac could barely stay still in the front seat as Mario drove on, she kept on the lookout for the Star or anyone on their tail.

"We are going to have to ditch this car on or somewhere near the docks. It's got a short life-cycle at best, that suit was totally Corp and if this was one of their toys..."

Her concern and logic was met with a gruff nod and a sound of disgust from Mario as he cut across town on the side streets and tertiary roads.

"I'm sure one of my guys will loan us some wheels if we need 'em."

23:51:19 Sunday, 21 January 2063 – Complete-U-Store, N 142nd St, Downtown, Seattle

As the Saab rolled up to the gates of the storage facility that was minded by a different guard than the one who was there almost 12 hours prior, she was once again admitted by providing Kovacs' security code and the quickly found a parking spot inside the gated lot.

Mac was practically out of the car the moment it came to a complete stop. Mario didn't bother to lock it up as he caught up with her by the time she hit the doors to the facility. Too much was at stake to spend too much time here and potentially lose a valuable lead on the guys from Winternight so her speed increased once they were inside and she headed directly for the storage locker. The only questions she was entertaining was just how much of Kovacs stash was she going to liberate from the locker tonight and if she'd even have a chance to come back again.

Her fingers glided over the keypad, pressing in the code that was so ingrained in her memory and after a moments hesitation the door began to roll up once more.

[grendel]

00:08:37 Monday, 22 January 2063 – southbound Greenwood Ave N, Downtown, Seattle

Mac ducked under the door before it was halfway up, her eyes scanning the piles of unmarked boxes and bags as the overhead halogens flickered on.

Black duffel second from the right in the corner, grab it.

Kovacs' electronic command brooked no discussion, and she stepped quickly to drag it towards her. She recognized it immediately as the one they'd bought at The Emporium, and by its weight, it still held all of the clothes and gear they'd picked up together.

Mid-size slate gray soft-side weapon case, that one there, grab it. Go!

Mac pointed, then shifted in response to his confirmation, slinging the unassuming rectangle of cordura and webbing over her shoulder before dragging the heavy duffel into the hall. She slapped the lock closed, waiting until the door rolled to within a hand's breadth of the floor. Straining, she heaved the duffel over her shoulder, something sharp digging into her back, and staggered out into the parking lot. She dumped everything into the backseat of the Saab before climbing in after it.

"Go. Go!" she directed, and Mario put his foot in it again, the turbine winding aggressively as the sports car arrowed out of the parking lot. Mac shucked off her jacket, then undid the busks of the corset top. She felt the Saab lurch, and glanced up to meet Mario's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Eyes on the road, jackass," she commented drily, not bothering to cover up.

"Sorry," muttered Mario.

Mac opened up the duffel bag, rummaging through until she found the Vashon Island packages. She remembered undergarments as well, pawing through the collection until she found one of the workout compression shirts. It would do until she got a proper bra. Both shirts were crinkly, unwashed and smelling of factory manufacture. For all that, Mac felt infinitely more comfortable with them on, a psychic armor that told her once more how far she'd come from the life she'd known. Pants, socks, and boots followed, her eyes finding the serial number with the EOD ending that Kovacs had found so important. She laced them tightly before transferring the holster for her pistol to her strong side hip. It jabbed her uncomfortably until she remembered the adjustment she'd made.

"Hey, gimme yer multitool," she said, holding her hand out. Mario fumbled at his belt before passing the leatherman back to her. She undid the screws, realigning them to what they had been. The holster rode correctly afterwards. All of Frankie's borrowed clothes went back into the duffel bag, and Mac drew the weapon case into her lap. Undoing the zip, she watched as the streetlight slid wetly over the smooth, organic curves of the P93. Four full magazines of ammo were tucked into pouches on the top half of the case. Sliding one out, she fit it to the magazine well of the weapon, seating it home with a satisfying finality. Grasping the charging handle, she put the weapon into battery.

Your shirt has epaulet tabs, undo the buttons on them. Then slip your arms through the sling loops, make sure the long strap goes across your back.

Mac struggled to follow the unfamiliar instructions, untangling the sling but still taking two tries to get it set right. She buttoned the straps back up so they kept the sling in place around her shoulders.

The weapon will ride muzzle down on your right side. There's a clip on the left side of the upper receiver which hooks to your belt. When you're going to employ the weapon, just push down on the pistol grip before bringing the stock to your shoulder. The clip will pop free. The long coat that goes along with your Actioneer set will conceal the weapon for the most part.

Mac nodded, remembering a night not too long ago, and how even the bulk of an Ares Alpha disappeared for the most part beneath a long coat. She left the weapon resting in her lap for the time being.

Is this right? she demanded. Are we doing the right thing?

You're asking the wrong question. It's not about right or wrong right now, it's about making good decisions. Sound tactical decisions. You're doing well. You have good instincts. Trust them.

[Vegas]

00:43:19 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Port of Tacoma, Tacoma, Seattle

I'd make better decisions knowing you were there beside me

The stabbing sense of loss that punctuated her thought could be felt by both of them as she fell silent in the back seat while Mario continued to angle the pair southwest towards the docks. They had driven minutes or miles in silence and as Mac brooded in the darkness as the pavement slipped by beneath them.

Absently her fingers patterned over the hard, lethal lines of the P93 laid across her lap, the metal and polymers both warming and cooling between her touch and the chill of the night air. Somehow it focused her, steeled her resolve for what they might be required to do. She leaned over and dug out the longcoat from the duffle, settling it about her shoulders in both a final act of defiance against her old life and a calming measure of her new.

"How much further do you think?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen."

She caught Mario's gaze in the rear view mirror and gave him one silent, confident nod. She pulled the extra loaded mags from the weapon's case and slid them into various pockets of the coat, finding their extra weight somehow reassuring in an entirely odd way not just for the additional ammunition.

When they finally hit the outskirts of the ports, Mario slowed and pulled to the side of the road not far from the main gates which were chained and guarded by multiple men, some of which Mac guessed belonged to O'Malley.

"You have the clout to get us onto the terminals by car, or are we finding a way in through a backdoor?"

[grendel]

00:58:26 Monday, 22 January 2063 – 1400 block of 54th Ave E, Tacoma, Seattle

"Hell, I ain't got that kind of pull," snorted Mario. He gestured towards the bright neon lights of the food trucks parked across the road. "I figured we could just canvas the crowd and see what info we could pull."

Mac nodded. "All right, you lead since they're your buddies, and I'll stick close behind. If there's trouble, I'll cover our retreat to the car. Sound like a plan?"

There was a new respect in Mario's eyes. The slim woman in the back seat of the Saab spoke with a certainty that was lacking only a week ago when she'd guided them in to Winternight's safe house. Together they exited the vehicle, Mac taking a moment to adjust the ride of her weapon and settle the fall of her long coat over it. She still felt exposed and vulnerable, her skin prickling with memories of the last time she'd operated solo with Mario. The firepower slung at her side did not reassure her, not like having Kovacs and Tristan on call to back her up would have. She bit down on her tongue, shutting down that train of thought with the sharp pain, and followed Mario into the crowd of longshoremen milling about the food trucks.

The ork had a casual, easy air about him, sliding through the crowd until he ran across a familiar face. Mac kept to the outside of the crowd, closer to the center of the street. Any glances that came her way, she turned back with a flat, uninterested stare. She hadn't checked, but she was sure that at least a bit of her make-up had come off during her hasty change in the car, revealing some of the still livid bruises beneath.

She kept an eye on the street as well as the buildings and warehouses behind them, tracking Mario's progress but doing her best to be aware of everything in the environment. Her AR was virtually empty, and she wished for Drift's presence on the net, and the multitude of information provided by his drones. If she and Mario were going to make a go of this, they'd need some kind of matrix support. She glanced down at her hand, imagining for a moment the fiery blue code that Isomer had given her. At least matrix support that was more active.

Mario ambled out of the crowd, tossing a few comments over his shoulder as he did so. There was a tension in his eyes, though, and he gestured towards the car.

"Good news and bad news," he confided, his voice pitched to carry only to her. "I sold our ride for enough that we can pick up some used wheels. I gotta friend who works a shop that's usually open late."

"Late?" interjected Mac, concerned now that she was going to have to carry the bag of gear she'd pulled from the storage locker. "It's one a.m.!"

"Easy, sister," Mario held up a hand. "I didn't say it was exactly a legal kind of shop. I called him earlier and he'll be there with some stock we can look at. Bad news is, though, that whatever is going on, the port's closed up tight. The guys said that there's a bunch of extra security crawling over the docks, lots of random ID checks, vehicle searches, whole nine yards. If this was Winternight's way out, it's no good to them anymore. We're gonna have to look someplace else."

The ork opened the back door of the Saab as he spoke, casually hefting the duffel bag over his shoulder with an ease that belied its weight. Mac slung the weapon case across her back.

"It's not completely bad news," said Mac, following across the street as Mario headed for the cab stand. "At least we crossed this place off our list."

"That's true, I suppose." Mario dropped the duffel bag into the trunk of the electric commuter taxi, an older Dodge Swift model. Mac slid into the backseat, tucking the case down by her feet as the ork gave the driver directions.

01:17:49 Monday, 22 January 2063 – 3727 S G St, Tacoma, Seattle

Mario led them around back of the auto parts store as the cab disappeared into the urban wilds of Tacoma, crossing a narrow alleyway to a fenced off lot. Mac was glad once more for the weight of the weapon on her right side, her eyes flickering up the alleyway at the multitude of shadowed doorways that could have hidden a platoon of enemies. Cheap floodlights burned in the fenced area, their sulfurous orange light leaking through cracks in the plastic sheeting tacked to the chainlink. Mario rattled the gate.

"Yo, Burner!" he called.

"Not so loud, omae!" came the sharp reply from just inside the lot. A padlock and chain jangled, and the gate rolled back, revealing a younger, hispanic looking human. He glanced up and down the alleyway before standing aside to let them enter.

"Good to see you, too." Mario's grin was once more loose and friendly. He set down the heavy duffel to the side as Burner closed the gate behind him. As he did, Mac caught sight of his hands, the smooth, mottled scars answering where the nickname came from.

"Yeah, yeah. All right, your bankroll still eight large? I got a nice Hyundai here, clean paint job and new rims. Or there's the Americar over there, not much to look at it but it's got a couple of extras on it."

"Extras?" asked Mac.

"Yeah, nothing fancy," replied Burner. He opened the door of the vehicle, reaching under the dashboard. The digital barcode on the front license plate shivered and altered.

"They call it a 'morphing plate', has some electrochemical treatment which gives you the ability to switch the license plate. Also has a spoof ID chip that you can change to match the plate so Grid Guide or the Star won't cotton to you."

Mario opened his mouth, glancing back towards the Hyundai.

"We'll take it," said Mac. "Pay him."

[Vegas]

01:21:13 Monday, 22 January 2063 – 3727 S G St, Tacoma, Seattle

Mario turned his head towards Mac more rapidly than a casual glance but his argument died on his lips when he caught the look in her eyes while her face remained blank and impassive. This was the car, and she wasn’t about to be swayed towards the other option. The ork turned his attention back towards Burner and slipped back into his casual street swagger as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“What the woman wants. The woman gets.” He flashed a toothy grin at his contact before sealing the deal with the cred obtained from the Saab.

A slight smile ghosted across Mac’s features for an instant pleased that the Americar would have at least a couple of extras that the truck had. The car would blend in with most of the traffic around the city and wouldn’t call enormous amounts of attention to the two of them while they were seeking out Winternight.

“At least you won’t have to drive around with your head out the sunroof in that one.”

[grendel]

01:32:25 Monday, 22 January 2063 – 3727 S G St, Tacoma, Seattle

"True that," replied Mario. Nevertheless, the ork had to adjust the seat fully back and fully down before it was remotely comfortable. He futzed with the lumbar support as well, settling and resettling to make sure it was just right. Burner watched with some amusement, having satisfied himself that their cred was good and deducting the negotiated amount. Mario had stashed the oversized duffel bag in the trunk, but Mac waited until Burner's gaze was turned away before she unclipped the submachine gun and returned it to its weapon case. She found the car to be suitably anonymous, the outer body was a light metallic bronze while the gray interior was happily stain free. Sliding into the passenger side, she watched as Mario paged through the control center's AR display. He searched through the available music selections before settling on something catchy and urban.

"All right," he said, running his hands over the steering wheel with a smile. "Where to next?"

[Vegas]

01:51:38 Monday, 22 January 2063 – 3727 S G St, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac chewed on her lip for a minute while she thought about their next steps.

"Let's let Burner close it down for the night if he needs to and we'll drive around and think this through."

Mario obliged and they left the lot with a nod to Burner as he locked the gates behind them as they drove off. They were moving about the streets aimlessly and getting a better feel for the state of the metroplex as well as what they'd be working against.

"What's keeping them from trying to do what we did and find a vehicle to leave Seattle in? If they went that route, we may be Derek out of luck trying to track them."

The thought that they could get away flared a new level of anger inside her and she growled in frustration.

"We need additional help to do this and have a chance to ferret them out if they're still here. With just the two of us it could take forever. We need technical support, we can pound the pavement but if we had someone who could search the electronic trails..."

Her companion nodded as he drove but she continued on.

"I know someone who might be willing to help, but I doubt they'll come cheap. Even for a good cause."

[grendel]

02:08:19 Monday, 22 January 2063 – driving aimlessly through Tacoma, Seattle

Mario had to turn around mid-block to avoid the debris from a pair of street lamps felled across the street. Mac couldn't tell from the wreckage if it was by accident or design. A forlorn flag of Lone Star caution tape fluttered in the wind.

"Well, there's no harm in asking at least. Worst they could say is no. Although given what we've seen of the damage, I'm not sure the matrix is a safe place to be right now."

The ork took a moment to stare glumly at his commlink. "Not even sure you can get anything online. I still don't have a data connection."

Mac cursed, realizing that their spotty coverage probably meant that the public nets weren't fully repaired yet. The corporate grids would be first on the list, but the matrix infrastructure frequented by the rest of humanity was of less concern. She wasn't even sure that the illegal tap location that she and Tristan first visited would even be operational anymore. Let alone how to get access past the bouncer.

I supposed it's too late for Zeyda, she thought glumly.

During this crisis? Yes, otherwise you could probably catch him. I'm willing to bet, though, that Geisty is still open for business.

[Vegas]

02:12:48 Monday, 22 January 2063 – driving aimlessly through Tacoma, Seattle

Smart. Keeps us from sitting on our hands until we can reach out to Zeyda and Isomer

Mac instantly warmed to the idea of going back to Geisty's, not just for the real coffee but she was near certain it would still be standing. It was even more likely however, that the Guild's proprietor would have his ear to the ground on the more shady comings and goings via alternate routes from the city.

"How do you feel about coffee?"

It was a rhetorical question really, she was already leaning towards the center console to plug in the location into the car's nav, but she did catch the look of delight on a fellow caffeine addict's face out of the corner of her eye. Mario questioned the location she had plugged in, but pointed the car in that direction.

"It's contingency plan D." She offered with a slight shrug of her shoulders as if it explained everything.

03:02:53 Monday, 22 January 2063 – The Bard's Guild, 521 Lincoln Ave, Downtown, Seattle

By the time the pair had pulled up outside Geisty's, the streets of downtown were a shell of their former selves, the building still stood, a few visible scars on its exterior, but still standing.

A little like me. she thought as Mario found a spot to leave the car that wouldn't put it in immediate danger of being stolen.

When she stepped out of the car, she rechecked the ride of her pistol before she buttoned the front of her coat and fell in step beside Mario as they carefully approached the front door. She was on guard only because she had no idea of the mood of those beyond the front door.

"We're on our best behavior."

"I know the place sister, didn't know it was in your radar however."

Mac opened her mouth to reply but was cut short by the front door being thrown open.

[grendel]

03:14:06 Monday, 22 January 2063 – The Bard's Guild, 521 Lincoln Ave, Downtown, Seattle

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Geist leaned against the doorjamb, making a show of checking out Mac as she walked up the two steps to the entrance foyer.

"You talkin' to me or her?" inquired Mario, a step behind. The brawler that Mac remembered from her first visit was standing behind Geist, an oversized automatic weapon cradled in his arms.

Ingram Valiant light machine gun, answered Kovacs to her unasked question.

He wore a couple of bandages, one around his arm and the other plastered on the left side of his head, and didn't look any happier than he had the first time she'd stopped by.

"Any chance we could still get a cup of coffee?" inquired Mac, ignoring the rest of the conversation. She flashed Geist a tired smile. The ork was more intuitive than she gave him credit for, compassion in his eyes as he nodded.

"Of course, honey." He stepped back, and the three of them moved to the bar together. The guard remained behind, staring tensely out at the street.

The house blend was as hot and delicious as she remembered, and Mac fought to keep the other memories of that night from crowding in on her.

"Glad to see you guys made it through all right," said Mario, slurping noisily from his own cup.

Geist nodded, although his mask of urbane carelessness slipped for a moment. "Not gonna lie, it was touch and go there for a bit. Luckily we're no strangers to mobs wanting to ruin our day."

[Vegas]

03:25:19 Monday, 22 January 2063 – The Bard's Guild, 521 Lincoln Ave, Downtown, Seattle

Mac clutched at her mug of coffee with her left hand like it was a lifeline, letting the heat sink into her fingers as the caffeine moved through her veins and used both in a way to center herself and her thoughts. She watched Geist carefully, her own mask of neutrality just barely in place, knowing full well that if the man studied her well enough, her dark eyes would hold back no secrets. She refocused her thoughts towards those responsible and away from what had been stolen from her. She hoped if Geist truly looked, he'd see only anger and revenge burning there and not the heartbreak.

“Under normal circumstances, you know I wouldn’t think twice about crossing half the city for such an exquisite cup of coffee, however you and I both know these aren’t normal circumstances.”

She leaned forward slightly, running the matte grey fingers of her mis-sized right hand through her spiky black hair. She caught the second slight slip in Geist's façade before he corrected himself, though whether it was from fatigue or surprise she wasn't sure.

"Plenty has been lost, Geist." Her voice was edged with anger and her hands fisted tightly before she dropped them both to her lap beneath the table.

"While I'm grateful to know you're still standing, we didn't come entirely for a welfare check. I know you have a finger on the pulse of the city in a way some of us can't even begin to fathom. Holding sway over ways in and out of the city, perhaps."

She felt Mario tense slightly beside her, but she didn't hesitate to continue.

"There's a group of individuals who are going to try to leave Seattle through less than conventional means. A group of European men who are growing more desperate as avenues of egress are closing to them. I want them so desperate they make a mistake, and I can find them before they ghost."

[grendel]

03:31:53 Monday, 22 January 2063 – The Bard's Guild, 521 Lincoln Ave, Downtown, Seattle

Geist paused to savor a swallow of coffee, pale eyes glittering in the soft illumination of the cafe.

"You've picked up some bad habits from your mentor," he commented, setting the oversized mug down so he could rest his fingers on the back of Mac's hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The touch is sincere, though thankfully brief.

"I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help, though. I only deal with intercity movements, not any that cross the border. You're right, though, these gentlemen aren't going to want to hang out for much longer. You're not the only ones looking for them."

"Who else?" asked Mario, although the same question was on the tip of Mac's tongue.

"Old friends," replied Geist, although it was obvious that they were anything but. "They're interested in the same thing you are, though: revenge."

Mac and Mario traded glances. The ork gestured in a way that meant I'll tell you later, but Geist was speaking again anyway.

"There's a Flying J truckstop, north of here on the 5 on the border between Everett and Snohomish. The restaurant there, Laughlin's, is a favored hangout for those who specialize in cross-border transportation. If your Europeans are seeking a fast way out of the city, more than likely that's where they're going to find a ride."

[Vegas]

03:42:25 Monday, 22 January 2063 – The Bard's Guild, 521 Lincoln Ave, Downtown, Seattle

Mac inclined her head slightly towards Geist to match the simple words that fell from her lips.

"Thank you."

To her left, Mario made a show of draining the last of the coffee from the mug and rising slowly and deliberately to his feet. Mac followed his lead, sadly leaving half of her coffee unfinished. She let her gaze drift towards Geist until it caught his eyes as she lowered her voice for his ears.

"I owe you for this, and I intend to repay it."

She didn't linger, falling in step a pace behind Mario as he strode towards the door. They brushed past the establishment's muscle and made a bee line for the car, both their minds on the same end result but processing it with different filters. As she pulled open the passenger door she flashed a sly smile in her companion's direction.

"Up for a road trip? I think you have a story to share to occupy us on the drive."

She was met with a matching toothy grin and a nod as he ducked into the driver's seat.

"By the way, how many languages do you speak?" She asked as she clicked her seatbelt into place.

[grendel]

04:03:19 Monday, 22 January 2063 – northbound I-5, Downtown, Seattle

Mario glanced quizzically at Mac before concentrating on the road.

"I can get by with Cityspeak and Orzzet, but I would only say that I speak one language."

Mac nodded. "Just curious, I don't want to give up any edge against these guys. They might assume that we don't speak their language and give away details of their plan."

"Yeah, sorry."

She shrugged. "Null sweat, just a thought. So what did Geist mean by old friends?"

Mario's face congealed. "At its largest extent, the Underground abuts the foundation of the RenRaku Arcology. During the Shutdown, both the UCAS government as well as Ares negotiated a deal to let troops move through the Underground's tunnels in order to access the Arcology. I wasn't there for the deal, but I helped contain the fallout. It kinda confirmed the worst that we thought about the corps. I'm guessing that Geist was referring to Ares, but I'm not sure why they'd be looking for our guys."

Ares Firewatch teams led the way into the Arcology along with UCAS MARSOC troops. They know it was Deus who caused the most recent matrix crash and are working the trail back. If Geist gave them the same info as you, they're liable to be casing the Flying J stop right now. Firewatch won't move without solid intel, but when they do, they're going to come with overwhelming force. If you get any hint of surveillance, back off. You may be able to find an opportunity in the fog of war, but don't push it.

[Vegas]

04:38:13 Monday, 22 January 2063 – northbound I-5, Downtown, Seattle

I just want to be sure none of the rats manage to slip the trap.

Mac felt the buzz beneath her skin as the anger threatened to burn through her again. She flexed her hands and tightened them trying to dissipate the feelings, trying to keep control. Tamping down her emotions in the past had never been a problem before, but this was different. Kovacs had made everything different.

I can't... I won't let them get away.

Mac put her booted feet carefully on the dash as she leaned back in her seat and focused her gaze on the ceiling of the car. A few cleansing, deep breaths later she tossed out her thoughts on what would come when they hit the truckstop.

"Since I'm not even certain we'll recognize anyone, I figure we can park a little ways out, head inside and get the lay of the land. Maybe a bite to eat if you're hungry? Maybe someone will catch our eyes or ears while we enjoy some more coffee on our road trip."

[grendel]

04:51:26 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Seattle

First rule of revenge is make sure you stay alive to enjoy it.

Kovacs' voice was even colder than usual, and Mac knew he spoke from experience. Mario, not privy to the silent conversation, nodded.

"Sounds good. Definitely could go for some food and it would give us good cover for being there."

It was a long ten minutes to their destination. Mac guessed that a working business like this would frown on anything heavier than her pistol, leaving her nothing to do to get ready. The interstate was clear for the most part, insulated from the worst of the damages due to its limited access and more robust pilot ratings of the drones plying its length. They still passed plenty of accident wreckage, bulldozed to the shoulders by the responding emergency vehicles and Lone Star cruisers. The early morning darkness hid the rest. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't feel the car's speed change as they took the offramp, only snapping out of her fugue when Mario spoke, his voice low and charged.

"We're here."

Backing into a spot with a good line towards the parking lot's exit, they stepped out of the car and crossed the damp pavement to the warm interior of the truck stop. The building's lines were utilitarian, prefab construction with pressed construction plastic dressing. The restaurant was much the same, monochrome tables and chairs spaced evenly around a linoleum countertop. Surprisingly, most of the tables were full, with a broad spectrum of metatypes represented. At the nod of a tired looking waitress, Mac and Mario slid into a table against the near wall.

[Vegas]

05:16:38 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Downtown, Seattle

She had swept her gaze across the parking lot as they made their way into the truckstop. Noting the various mix of vehicles and semis that littered the area surround the building.

Once inside, Mac settled into the table, turning her body in the chair so her back was against the wall and her feet splayed out on the chair beside her in casual indifference, another road-weary traveler looking for coffee and food.

Kovacs' words still lingered in her head and she knew she needed to listen. Her dark eyes moved from Mario's face as they made harmless conversation about the drive, and she did a cursory glance around the restaurant space. She was trying to use what she had learned from her mentor, trying to spot not only the transporters but any sign of Ares as well.

Mario was almost finished ordering enough food for himself to feed a small army, when the waitress turned her tired eyes to Mac.

"And for you hon?"

"Just coffee and scrambled eggs please."

The woman nodded with a exhausted, weak smile and turned away from the table once again giving Mac and Mario the privacy of a busy dining room filled with the constant buzz of conversation to hold their own.

"Anything look good to you?" She posed the question to her dark, and silent companions.

[grendel]

05:31:29 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

Mario took a swallow of water, his eyes scanning the interior of the restaurant in a deliberate pattern. Mac checked the parking lot through the window before focusing on the reflection of her fellow patrons.

"There's a couple of guys at the bar who aren't trucker types," replied the ork, his voice casual and pitched only loud enough for her to hear. "And the dwarf two tables over has too much ware for a simple driver. Not sure about any of the others, although there's two guys in back who I can' get a good bead on. There's something off about them."

Mac nodded non-comittaly. She had pegged the dwarf right away, too. She was less sure about the guys at the counter, they all looked the same to her. She couldn't get an eye on the two in back that Mario was uncertain about. The restrooms were back that way, though, so sometime during their meal she could wander past and check them out.

"Any idea how you wanted to play this?"

She shrugged. "Not much of one. I'm gonna have some breakfast and then drop some hints to those guys at the counter real casual like. Then play it from there."

"'Bout what I figured," replied Mario. "I can hit up some of the guys around back in the truck lot, see if any of them have been approached by some hitchhikers."

"Works for me, just be careful. If you and Geist are right about your 'old friends', they may be nosing around here as well. Last thing we need is to get caught in the crossfire between Ares and Winternight."

"You don't have to warn me twice," agreed Mario, nodding. He might have added more, but the waitress flashed past, slinging their plates onto the table with practiced abandon. It was simple fare, mostly soy by the taste, but Mac was suddenly ravenous, her stomach hungry for something resembling real food rather than the survival rations that had been fueling her for the past few days. She ate quickly, luxuriating in the sugary sweetness of a thick layer of jam on her toast.

Halfway through her meal, the bell on the door rang. Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of a pair of men in long coats. They cased the interior of the restaurant with a detachment that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. One made a quick gesture towards the counter, the other nodded, and they made their way to a pair of open seats.

[Vegas]

05:42:19 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Downtown, Seattle

Mac let her gaze linger on the two men as long as she could and keep it casual. The lingering feeling of unease stuck with her as she turned back to her nearly destroyed plate of eggs.

"Those two, just walked in, any chance they look familiar to you?"

Something about them was familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She didn't recognize their faces as they had strolled through the restaurant, but it was tickling at the back of her brain.

Something about those two who walked in, familiar but I don't know, just 'off'

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to shake the feeling, but instead after a few moments she found clarity. It wasn't the two men in particular that were familiar, but the feeling they brought out in her. Something she hadn't felt since the Heart of the City.

Everything is screaming at me that they're on one side of this or the other.

[grendel]

05:49:46 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

They don't move their right hands when they walk. It's weapons training. Watch the way they sit, too. Restricted torso movement hints towards either heavier armor underneath the coat or a low-cost dermal armor implant.

Mac slid her eyes left, turning her head only a minute amount, hawking the points that Kovacs mentioned.

"They're moving in back," muttered Mario, covering his mouth with his napkin. Mac nodded, successfully resisting the urge to glance their way, finding a reflection in the side of one of the coolers to track their progress. She felt her heartbeat accelerate, adrenaline erasing the aches from her injuries as her subconscious reacted to the possibility of imminent action.

The pair from the back booth passed her and Mario, bland conversation following in their wake as they stopped by the counter to pay their bill. They were wearing heavy canvas work pants, boots, and jackets with some kind of moss green and oak leaf camo pattern. Mac's eyes slid across their scraggly hair and unshaven cheeks, her threat assessment dropping.

Check their hands.

She followed the suggestion, watching as they tucked their commlinks back into jacket pockets. She didn't see anything right away, until she thought about how clean their nails were, and how thick their wrists.

They're surveillance, probably corporate of some kind because the rest of their outfits are well prepped. But it's hard to conceal the hands. They're headed out to meet up with the rest of their team. Probably won't see any action here. They'll try and pick-up the pair at the counter on their way out and track them back to the rest of their team.

[Vegas]

05:52:29 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Downtown, Seattle

Mac casually watched the pair of men as they passed their table and continued to the door before she turned her eyes back to Mario and dropped her voice for his ears only.

"I think they might be some kind of corporate security team, surveillance most likely."

She paused to finish off her last bite of toast before she continued.

"Either they have eyes on someone in here and are waiting for them to come out or they might be our lead to find where they're going to look next. Either way I think we should pay our bill and head to the car."

[grendel]

06:01:03 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

It happened faster than Mac was expecting.

Mario nodded to her suggestion, wiping his mouth and standing. She followed, covering both their breakfasts. The balance on her credstick was still decent, Tristan had brought her share of what was left of de Medici's payment less what the team had spent in preparation for the job. She almost refused it, but he'd been persuasive. She'd paid a price during that final battle, and was due some compensation.

She caught the eye of one of the strangers at the breakfast counter, offering him a perfunctory smile in response before stepping out the door. Together she and Mario headed across the parking lot towards their car. In the adjacent row, next to a lifted Ford Workhorse, the two surveillance operatives sharing a cigarette next to the passenger door. Mac cleared her throat softly, and Mario slowly increased their separation, heading towards the driver's side of their car. Another vehicle's engine fired to life. Behind them, the bell on the door of the diner rang as it opened again. Mac glanced at the rear windows of the van next to her, seeing in their reflection the blurry image of the two strangers now moving purposefully through the door towards them. The sound of a vehicle accelerating reached her as well, and she risked a glance over her right shoulder, watching a Mercury Comet squeal around the corner towards them.

"DOWN!" she yelled to Mario, hand dropping to her waist.

Gunfire ripped across the parking lot.

The two strangers were kneeling, blazing out rounds from submachine guns. The corporate surveillance team had pistols out, leaning past the quarter panel of their truck to return fire. Mario scrabbled crab-like across the pavement, desperately seeking cover.

[grendel]

06:01:04 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

Bullets whistled through the air past Mac like angry hornets, making her blood run cold. Everything seemed to be happening in silence, all sound compressed into a single, low constant tone. She could clearly see the intensity on the faces of the two strangers, their eyes flashing in the muzzle blasts of their submachine guns. She brought her Browning up into her sightline, left hand finding her right on its grip.

TWO STEPS BACK!

- blared the voice in her head. The command was so intense that she complied without hesitation, her finger tight on the trigger but held for a moment. Out of her peripheral vision she realized that she'd stepped into the gap between the parked van and another vehicle. A heartbeat later Kovacs added

FIRE.

Her foot hit the ground and her Browning roared, surprising her with both the recoil and the sound. The windows on the van next to her spiderwebbed beneath a fusillade of bullets. Desperately she glances to the side, risking taking her eyes off her target in order to check Mario's progress. The ork has the driver's side door of their car open, and is groping for something inside. Either the ignition or his pistol, she can't tell. Beyond him, the two corporate surveillance operatives are still firing, their arms outstretched over the hood of the truck as they shield themselves with its heavy engine compartment. The Mercury Comet, which until now was only a sound, becomes a flash of motion in her vision, cutting across the parking lot to slam into the front of the truck opposite the two corporate agents. The truck bounces sideways with enough force to fling them away. One of them, the younger, ends up kneeling in front of the same two vehicles as Mac. He wobbles, clearly dazed from the blow, still trying to engage the enemy.

[grendel]

06:01:05 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

DOWN

blared the voice in her head, and Mac obeyed instinctively again, launching herself sideways towards cover as submachine gun rounds cracked through the rear window of the car she was sheltering behind. For good or ill, she'd gotten their attention. Her rapid evasive maneuver carried her directly into the path of the young corporate operative, taking them both down in a tangle of limbs. He stared at her in surprise, the contact shocking him back to his senses. His eyes were a pretty green, Mac noted, even as she stiff armed him away.

"Get outta the way! High beams!" she yelled, throwing her voice towards Mario. She didn't check to see if the ork understood her reference, twisting to put two more rounds downrange towards the attackers. Recoil was lifting the muzzle of her Browning and she fought to get back towards some semblance of a firing stance. More gunfire, louder, thundered close by, along with the sound of splintering glass and the rev of more than one vehicle's engine. A figure moved past Mac, the young corporate operative, his pistol in front of him as he blazed away at the targets gunning for both her and him. Mac saw one go down, wounded or dead she wasn't sure, but doesn't know the status of the other.

"C'mon!" shouted Mario from their car, his hand held out the open driver's side window to send rounds downrange towards the Comet in front of him.

[grendel]

06:01:06 Monday, 22 January 2063 – Laughlin's, Flying J Truck Stop #0583, Everett, Seattle

Heavier automatic fire sounded close by, automotive glass splintering and composite body panels crackling beneath the fusillade. Shouts of pain and anger filled the air, along with cries of surprise and panic from bystanders. The young corporate operative crossed to the back panel of their Comet, sheltering behind the wheel and axel to fire at the retreating gunman by the restaurant door. Mac yanked open the rear passenger door, diving onto the seat.

"GO! GO!" she shouted, swinging her legs around to try and get into a position to cover their withdrawal. Mario stomped on the gas, squealing the tires as he aimed the sedan towards the street.