Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[Vegas]

12:54:13 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Kern's Auto Repair and Salvage, 7080 Toulon Road, Everett, UCAS

As Kovacs laid out the reality of the situation, that once again she owed him her life, she felt the floor drop out beneath her. She was grateful for the strength of the doorway she leaned against at that moment, as if she was forced to take a step, she would have likely dropped to her knees. Instead she screwed on her poker face and continued to listen.

She still thought that the idea of going after de Medici sounded and felt like a suicide mission, but then she had a feeling it wouldn’t just be the three of them going after him.

She quirked a brow over Drift’s change in demeanor and the pairs excitement over something else well over her head and spoke up.

“The Machines?”

[grendel]

15:21:08 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Even to his narcotic-fueled perception, things move quicker than Joslyn was ready for. Xade moves, and both Noland and Remy push Joslyn through the doors behind her. The room revealed is large, perhaps five meters on a side, with several long work tables strewn with parts and gear as well as four cots and a small cookstove. A figure, indistinct in a camo jumpsuit, lunges past one of the tables. Xade swings her weapon to bear, but it's a three round burst from Noland that knocks the figure to the ground. Another stands next to a wall locker of gear, submachinegun in hand, while a third kneels in the doorway on the far side of the room.

[grendel]

13:02:56 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Kern's Auto Repair and Salvage, 7080 Toulon Road, Everett, UCAS

Kovacs glanced back at Mac. "What, you didn't think I kept him around just for his rakish good looks, did you?"

This brought another snort of derisive laughter from Drift, who motioned them to follow as he disappeared deeper into the shop. "Although you have to admit I am pretty damn handsome," commented the ork. "I've aged well, like fine wine."

"You mean you've aged into vinegar," corrected Kovacs as they stepped out of the rear of the garage and through a narrow passage between stacks of crushed automobiles that joined it to a large, dusty quonset hut.

"I've forgotten how much good you do to a fellow's ego." Drift's tone was full of mock wistfulness, the rigger glancing back at the two of them before keying in the combo to the very modern looking maglock securing the hut. The interior was inky with shadows, the wan afternoon sun doing nothing to illuminate the contents beyond a narrow shaft admitted by the open door. Drift disappeared down the side of the building for long enough that Mac's eyes could begin to make out several large, angular shapes covered by pale protective cloth.

With the throw of a breaker, the overhead halogens flicker on, rapidly gaining strength to full illumination. But the first pale light is enough to reveal the nature of the machines to Mac.

Closest to her is a sports car, although with the aftermarket additions it takes her a moment to recognize the lines of a Mitsubishi Shadow. The vehicle has an odd, zig-zag neon green pattern laid over its matte black skin, the irregular geometry leaving her feeling increasingly queasy the longer she stares at it. Luckily, the other two machines provide a convenient excuse for her to look away. Or, rather, the central machine does.

The truck on the far side is an Ares Roadmaster, the lines of the heavy duty cargo vehicle so familiar and ubiquitous that Mac hardly spares a glance at it. Certainly she doesn't pay much attention after she realizes that the vehicle staring her in the face is some kind of armed and armored helicopter.

Painted in a muted light gray/dark gray/ dark blue camouflage, the helo squatted like an restive technological dragonfly. It's five bladed main rotorblades drooped over the other two vehicles, while the twin sliding doors to the cabin stood open. From where she stood Mac could see the thickness of the cockpit's armored bubble canopies, the pilot's stepped up to the rear from the front gunner's position. Stubby weapon wings sloped down from the aft fuselage, weapon pylons empty but ready. There was no mistaking the chin turret, though, and its paired cannon barrels, nor the triple cluster of barrels that extended along the right side of the fuselage.

"Ordnance?" asked Kovacs, a sharpness to his tone that Mac has come to understand means he's planning. Drift shakes his head.

"Only for the vigilant and vanquisher, nothing for the hardpoints," replied Drift morosely. Kovacs clapped his teammate on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I know a guy. Now, let's go find Suda."

"Are you sure you want to talk to her next?" asks Drift, his tone leaving little doubt as to the chances of success he thought that conversation would have. "You remember what happened last time, right?"

Kovacs rubbed his side, a spot that Mac knew was decorated by a jagged keloid of scar tissue. "I'm hoping she's calmed down in her old age."

Drift snorted, shutting off the lights again. "I think her age should be the last thing you bring up in conversation."

[Vegas]

13:05:41 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Kern's Auto Repair and Salvage, 7080 Toulon Road, Everett, UCAS

Mac couldn’t help but let out a low, appreciative whistle at the assortment of vehicles and especially the sheer power and nastiness of the helo. If she wasn’t already certain of how far out of her league she was with Kovacs and his crew, this certainly sealed the deal.

She reined in her laughter to a cough and a nod over Drift’s age comment and stepped back into the hallway, headed towards the garage. Halfway down she looked back over her shoulder to Kovacs as Drift finished locking up the door.

“You sure you don’t want to bring the helicopter? Sounds like you might need it for backup?” Mac said teasingly, her light attempt at humor her defensive mechanism to cover for how completely out of her element that she felt.

[grendel]

13:14:06 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Kern's Auto Repair and Salvage, 7080 Toulon Road, Everett, UCAS

Kovacs flashes Mac a grin to let her know he gets the humor, but the expression shimmers over hard lines of tension, and fades quickly. At the front of the garage, he turns back to Drift.

"I'll let you know our progress via drop. I don't have a timeframe but I expect to be contacted by de Medici within the next few days. Be ready to roll by Tuesday. Get me a list of heavy ordnance as soon as you can."

Drift nodded. "Be careful."

"If I'd have been careful, we wouldn't be in this mess," replied Kovacs. The two men shake hands once more before the taller samurai climbs aboard the Land Rover and points the truck south.

Several minutes pass in silence.

Then Kovacs draws a deep breath.

"Our meeting with Suda is likely be unpleasant. Be ready to get out quickly."

[Vegas]

13:21:39 Thursday, 11 January 2063 – Outside Kern's Auto Repair and Salvage, 7080 Toulon Road, Everett, UCAS

Fan-fragging-tastic.

“Gee Kovacs you know just what to say to a girl to make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Mac let out a long soft sigh before the pair descended into their silence routine and the road rumbled on beneath them. The lack of sleep was starting to creep back in over her adrenaline highs of the morning and she was already not looking forward to their next stop. She closed her eyes for a moment to center herself, adjusted some of the tension out of her neck and refocused her attention on Kovacs before she spoke up again.

“So anything else you want to tell me about her before we show up on her doorstep, uninvited?”

[Mach_Ten]

15:21:08 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Remy had seen enough of his running mates using substances to know what Joslyn had probably just taken,
but it suddenly dawned on him that he had been thrust into a very deadly situation..
The guy looks young but the eyes, they'd seen a thing or two, and if that experience said "Drugs are the answer" then Remy was suddenly feeling very small again in a big old world.

"Drek!" a single word that summed up a whole lot of the situation, the Door pounded open and before he had time to even draw a breath he was deep in it once more.

Adrenaline surged through him, the simsense recorder kicking in with a thought and Remy was already playing back his finest moments of the upcoming fight before they had already happened.

In his mind, he is the superhero that saves the day and gets the girl,
only heroes don't usually get wounded by their own gun exploding.. and slowly, in his mind the hero crashes and burns.
all confidence fading from his face he turns an ashen grey. he looks around for an exit other than the door he is in front of

"Drek!" He was deep in it again! the fear welled up and threatened to take hold, make him run and flee from here, the pain would be almost unbearable.. but the steady hand on his back forces him forward, like a statue of fluid rock, Noland urges Joslyn forward and his other hand slips from Remy's shoulder to raise his weapon and let rip into the room.

He seems to radiate an aura of confidence and Remy absorbs it and soars across the room as bullets erupt from the automatic weapon, sword raised above his head, he has his target and the red mist descends in his vision,
"Not again!" he cries and follows up with a wide arc of the new gleaming blade.

[grendel]

15:21:08 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Remy's charge carries him across the room in three great strides, his sword flashing down in the chaotic mix of shadows and muzzle flashes. The stocky Winternight soldier tries to block with the stock of his submachinegun, twisting to the side. He's not quick enough, though, the young ork's blade sliding in beneath the defense to score a bone deep slice across his arm and abdomen below the splinter plate of his armor. Remy grins, starkly gleeful, and prepares for a follow up strike.

A pair of gunshots echoes, shockingly close as Xade pumps two rounds from her Colt into the same target, body-checking Remy towards the door on the far side of the room. The ork whuffs in surprise at the force of the hit, stumbling forward off balance. He twists as he falls, unconsciously snaking an arm around Xade's waist as they tumble out the door and into the hallway. The room behind them detonates in white fury. Joslyn has time to see the face of the bomber, and the radiant exultation in his expression, before the blast wave erases everything and throws him and Noland back into the hallway.

[DeliciousD]

15:21:10 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

"Drek!"

Joslyn throws his arms up to cover his face as the shock wave blasts him back into the hall, cursing all the way.

His narcotic-sped mind races through his options but his Security and Military training kick in.

That might not be the only bomb, get to cover, keep survivors safe

Dragging himself to his feet, Joslyn grabs a strap on Noland's armour and yanks him to the side of the door before poking his head around to check the situation.

"Sound off people! You still breathing?"

Was that fragger smiling? Drek!

[grendel]

15:21:13 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Fueled by adrenaline and narcotics, Joslyn manages to yank Noland out of the room and into the hallway. Some analytical part of his mind, though, notes that he'll be paying for the exertion tomorrow. The bulky ork samurai rolls to his knees, ignoring the half dozen pieces of smoldering shrapnel embedded in his armor and flesh. He covers the security specialist as Joslyn ducks back into the room through the twisted wreckage of the door.

The satchel charge has reduced the occupants and contents of the room to component pieces, blood and viscera splashed on the walls by the devouring buzzsaw of shrapnel and blast overpressure. A hand, naked and pristine, rests on the floor attached to a fleshless ulna and radius. Joslyn fears the worst, remembering how far into the room both Xade and Remy were. By the dim light filtering in through the hallway, though, he can just make out their forms through the door on the opposite side of the room.

The young ork rolls onto his back, sword still in hand and a wild look of fury in his eyes. He seems ready to leap up and start hacking at the rapidly cooling body parts in raw bloodlust. The emotion fades rapidly though as he realizes that Xade is lying full length on top of him, her back a sodden, bloody mess.

[grendel]

13:43:02 Thursday, 11 January 2063 – Southbound Highway 99, Seattle, UCAS

"Suda is a Cat shaman," explained Kovacs after a moment. "She's very good at what she does. She has what one might call a 'mercurial' temperament, though. She blamed me for the team breaking up after our last job. Words were said."

Mac glances over at the older samurai, her eyes seeking the spot on his side that hosted the twisted scar she remembered. A smile tugged at her lips. I'll bet it was more than just words.

He sighed. "I'm fairly certain she's still upset. What I don't know is if she'll hold off long enough to hear my offer before pulling the trigger. Definitely keep your guard up until I know for sure."

Mac opened her mouth to say don't worry about me, but then closed it upon reflection of how untrue that statement would have been. Instead she reached over and rested her hand on Kovacs' thigh, giving it a little squeeze. After a moment, he covered her hand with his. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

13:51:28 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 8047 Shade Creek Pl, Tacoma, UCAS

The general rundown nature of the two story house they parked in front of matched the dilapidated state of the neighborhood overall. Yards grew untended, buildings stood empty or only sullenly occupied, paint flaking off siding and trim, abandoned automobile carcasses littering the streets. Kovacs scanned the area carefully, a tense energy suffusing his body. It put Mac on edge as well, and she twisted her head, eyes dancing from shadow to shadow in an effort to drink everything in.

With a muttered "let's go," Kovacs slid out from the driver's seat and headed down the short stone walkway. Easing up the steps onto the porch, he tried to peer through the windows, but was defeated by the thick layer of grime as well as the remaining mirror tint. With a sigh, he squared his shoulders and knocked on the door.

The speed at which things happened next stunned Mac.

Responding as if the knock was its signal to attack, a bulky, earthy humanoid manifested on the porch next to Kovacs. The tall samurai moved as if he'd been expecting something like this to happen. He planted his left palm onto Mac's chest, sending her flying off the porch while his right buried itself into the spirit's midsection. The creature snarled and smashed a heavy fist into Kovacs sending him crashing through the door and into the house. Mac scrambled backwards, not out of fear of the spirit per se, but of what Kovacs left behind inside it.

The spirit turned at the movement, the blank hollows of its eyes narrowing. Then the grenade detonated. The blast ripped the spirit in half, pelting Mac with a shower of gravel.

Kovacs rolled to a knee, his submachinegun already butted to his shoulder. Suda put down the book she'd been reading, yawned, and stretched as if her porch wasn't covered by a spirit attempting to put its meat body back together.

"Well, well, well," she purred. "Look what the cat dragged in."

[Vegas]

13:53:07 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 8047 Shade Creek Pl, Tacoma, UCAS

Mac slowly got back up to her feet, her eyes moving quickly between what she could see of Kovacs, Suda and the slowly reforming spirit on the porch. The air around her was thick with tension and she watched her back as well. She heeded his warning and kept herself ready to run at a moment’s notice but took a couple steps towards the house, until she was just at the edge of the porch.

She pulled her pack of cigarettes from her pocket and slowly brought one to her lips and lit it, the tip of the black paper glowing a brilliant amber as her eyes locked on Suda. Mac knew the tone of her voice all too well, the gentle purr that masked the real emotion behind it, because she had used it so many times herself. This woman was dangerous, and it wasn’t all because of the mana she was able to control.

She held back, exhaled a stream of pale blue smoke and waited for one of them to make the next move, she liked to live dangerously, but she wasn’t stupid. Just like Drift, it was Kovacs’ history that brought them here and she wasn’t about to assume to interject herself into the middle of it any more than he had already done.

[grendel]

13:58:41 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 8047 Shade Creek Pl, Tacoma, UCAS

Kovacs stood warily, his gaze traveling around the room in a deliberate scan.

"It's good to see you again, Suda," he said, mostly out of a lack of anything else to say. "You're looking well."

The slim shaman smiled, dismissing her spirit back to the ether with a snap of her wrist. "Of course I am, but you're kind to say so. I can see the years haven't been quite as kind to you, although you're still as fast as I remember. Who's your young friend?"

From her vantage point Mac can meet Suda's gaze as she speaks, her dark eyes inquisitive and mischievous.

"My protege," replied Kovacs. Suda glanced back at him with an arched eyebrow.

"Yeah, that too," he admitted. The dark haired woman laughed, low and throaty. Stretching again, she stood and walked back towards the curtained doorway leading out of the room.

"Well don't leave her standing there," she threw over her shoulder, "come inside so we can talk business."

Kovacs let his submachinegun drop on its sling, adjusting the ride of the weapon so it disappeared beneath his jacket. Turning, he beckoned to Mac, who crushed out her cigarette and joined him.

"Don't trust her," she muttered, sotto voce, "she's up to something."

"She's a Cat," replied Kovacs in a similar tone, "she's always up to something. But you're right."

Stepping through the curtains brought them into a large dining area adjoining a very modern looking kitchen. Suda already had a trio of glasses filled with iced lemonade and was in the process of unwrapping a small plate with crackers, summer sausage, and cheese.

"So, what's the job about?" she asked, setting the plate on the counter and snagging a thin slice of sausage for herself. She listened patiently as Kovacs outlined the same story he'd told Drift, probing on occasion with questions. When he finished, she took a healthy drink from her glass before smiling.

"Fair enough, what do you need from me?"

"Astral delousing," replied Kovacs. "I don't know de Medici's magical resources but I'm guessing they're robust. I need to make sure he doesn't have any shadows on us."

"Easy day," replied Suda. She paused, looking at the taller samurai as if seeing him for the first time.

"You know I'm going to betray you, don't you?"

He nodded. "It's your way, I've anticipated it."

Suda laughed, light and musical. "You always were my favorite, Kovacs. Call me when you're ready for the opening moves."

The samurai nodded, standing. "Thanks for the lemonade. It's good to be working with you again, Suda."

Something that might have been affection danced in the slim shaman's cruelly beautiful eyes, and it softened the curve of her lips as she smiled. "I've missed you, too, Kovacs."

The tall samurai gestured Mac out before him, waiting until they were safe inside the cab of the Land Rover before exhaling sharply. He stared at the house's worn exterior for a moment.

"That went entirely like I didn't anticipate."

[Mach_Ten]

15:21:13 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

"please be breathing, please be breathing, oh drek, please be breathing!"
Remy can hardly control the emotions running rampant through him and fuelled by fear and adrenaline like hitting nitrous on an engine.
They dull the agony in every part of his body and quieten the ringing in his ears from the blast and the fall to the floor.

He reaches out to his side and pushes the sword away with numb fingers that are stripped and raw, he winces at the clatter it makes on the cold ground in the sudden silence surrounding them,
looking around he can't see Noland or Joslyn from where he lies with the woman atop him, too afraid to move her, more afraid to not get her some help.

"Drek! dis nots how I 'magined this to go!"
with a grunt he tries to slide out from under her, lowering her gently to the floor without his usual clumsiness and whispers out into the room
"Jos? Noland? ... needs a hand here ! She's hurt bad!"

Without waiting for a reply His eye's fly around the place, hoping beyond hope that the assailants suffered more than they did and that they will be unassailed at least for a moment, he gathers his wits and his sword and crouches low over Xades recumbent form, waiting for the backup, watching for the enemy

[DeliciousD]

15:21:30 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Joslyn sidles towards Remy and Xade, his pistol trained on the far doorway as he glances down at Xade's wounds and frowns, he'd seen worse in his time but not on anyone who got up again.

"Drek, that's not pretty," he looks to Remy then Noland "I'm no medic, anyone got a medkit or trauma patch?"

He holsters his pistol and checks the beds for an intact sheet, grabbing the sturdiest looking one, he quickly lays it out next to Xade.

"It'll have to do for a stretcher, unless we're calling Docwagon we've got to move her quick."

Looking around the devastated room, Joslyn shakes his head in disbelief.

Crazy fraggers, I wasn't prepared for this.

"Noland, I'm counting four beds and four corpses so far, is that all you expected?"

[grendel]

15:22:07 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

"Easy, heroes," mutters Xade, pushing herself upright. Remy does his best not to gasp as the motion momentarily rubs her hips against his.

"Most of the blood isn't mine." She leans against the wall, running a tired hand through her hair. Joslyn glances from her back to Noland, the bulky samurai kneeling in the doorway, covering down the hall.

"Winternight cells have been known to operate with up to eight members," he replies, his tone sounded even more mechanical through the ringing in Joslyn's ears.

"What a fraggin' mess," mutters Xade. "All right, see if you guys can find anything useful that made it through the blast."

[DeliciousD]

15:22:10 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Joslyn lets out a short laugh

"Damn woman, you had me worried...I don't envy your laundrette."

He laughs some more, somewhat manically.

breathe, keep cool

Shaking his head abruptly, Joslyn turns to the task at hand; keeping one eye on the door, he starts wading through the mess looking for anything of interest.

"Did you see that guy? He looked happy to be blowing himself to bits, this Winternight's got some fragged up members."

[Vegas]

14:00:03 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 8047 Shade Creek Pl, Tacoma, UCAS

Mac’s short, sharp laugh cut through the silence in the truck like a sharp blade, her tone thick with the tension she felt in her body. She had never been terribly fond of mages and shamans, convinced they always had their own agenda at play, and Suda was only succeeding in proving her right.

“You were expecting bloodshed?”

She fell silent again as her eyes watched the front of the house while they lingered outside in the truck, before she shifted in the passenger’s seat to face Kovacs.

“So I don’t get it. She outright tells you she’s going to screw you over and you willingly accept her help?” Mac shook her head, her hair falling across her face. “I mean, I get that you two have history but…” She chewed on her lip for a moment, trying to make sense of everything and failing.

“You can’t tell me she’s the only show out there for magical support.”

[grendel]

14:41:19 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 5420 Mont Clair Blvd, Redmond, Seattle

A smile crept across Kovacs' face as he pointed the Land Rover north towards Locus' place in Redmond.

"Better the devil you know. Yes, there are other magical assets out there that we could look for, but I don't know them, I haven't worked with them, and I trust them even less than I trust Suda. Besides, you haven't seen her in action, yet. She's worth the risk."

Mac was still skeptical. Something about Suda set off all the alarm bells in her mind, and she resolved to keep an extra eye on the shaman. Despite Kovacs' reassurance, or perhaps because of it. She remembered his admonishment from a couple days ago, about fresh eyes on the problem. The rest of the ride to Locus' place passed with more companionable silence, broken only by a few comments from either of them.

Kovacs held the door for her as they walked into the shop, trailing as she approached the counter. The handsome elf weapons dealer had his shirt sleeves pushed up, baring arms decorated equally with scars and incredibly detailed tattoos. He was already in the process of laying out her purchases on the countertop. The weapons gleamed beneath the hard shadowless illumination from the overhead LED spots.

"Check the work," advised Locus. "And the range is open if you want to run them through their paces."

[Vegas]

14:43:51 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 5420 Mont Clair Blvd, Redmond, Seattle

Mac's fingers ran over the hard angles and subtle curves of each of the weapons in admiration and the offer to make a go of it in an empty range was far too tempting to ignore. She flashed a mischievous smile in Locus’ direction before casting a glance back over her shoulder towards Kovacs unsure of their schedule for the rest of the day.

“Do we have the time?”

[grendel]

14:46:02 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 5420 Mont Clair Blvd, Redmond, Seattle

Kovacs nods. "We have time. Although if we didn't, I would make time. As much as I trust Locus, this kind of work demands a working check."

Locus grinned in agreement and to acknowledge he didn't take offense to the remark. He reached beneath the counter and recovered several cardboard ammo boxes, one of each caliber for the three weapons. This time Kovacs made no move to help, and Mac spared him only a glance as she loaded the various magazines for her weapons.

[Vegas]

15:22:41 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 5420 Mont Clair Blvd, Redmond, Seattle

Her fingers didn’t move with the speed or dexterity that either of the men had loading magazines, but it wasn’t entirely foreign to her either. It wasn’t long before she had a clip each for the P93 and the Alpha and two for the Browning.

By the time she was finished, Locus had already slid protection gear across the counter and she slid the offered glasses on. As much as she wanted to reach for the most familiar weapon she forced herself to pick up the Browning which felt slightly lighter and more familiar to her hands this time around. Mac eased the slide back and confirmed a clear weapon before picked up her two magazines and headed towards the soundlock.

Paper targets with anonymous heads took on various faces haunting her from her past as she squeezed off round after round, her accuracy getting slightly better with each shot until she emptied the clip, the last round into a specific face, a shot to the head that left her slightly shaky as her hands dropped to their sides and her breath was shallow and irregular. She squeezed her eyes shut for an moment, forcing her to pull herself together and put that demon to bed for the last time with a series of long slow breaths.

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, making the trip back to the counter to exchange each of her weapons before repeating the process, forcing herself to focus on the anonymous target before shredding the paper to pieces, the sound of the P93’s magazine clattering empty to the floor as she released it. She returned to the counter after each of her clips had been burned through, careful and deliberate to check her weapons for clear before setting them back on the counter in front of Locus. She was a relatively quick study, especially when her life depended on it. Her face was cool, her eyes were slightly distant but she gave Locus a nod of approval before she looked over to Kovacs.

"Are we done here?"

[grendel]

15:27:44 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Joslyn isn't squeamish about sifting through the bloody wreckage of the room, quickly scanning the scattered contents of the work bench for anything useful. Noland continues to provide security overwatch as the team works. Xade shakes off any remaining stun from the blast, and pries open the twisted carcass of the wall locker, ignoring the sodden mess of her jacket.

"Yeah, Winternight isn't the kind of organization that attracts people of sound mind. They tend towards the extreme. This isn't unusual for them at all," she comments.

Remy is pretty sure this is about the most disgusting thing he's done, but he's not about to lose face in front of his friends. Taking controlled breaths, he scouts along the wall, trying to skirt as much of the body parts as possible while still poking through the detritus. He comes across the twisted hunk of machinery that looks oddly familiar, although it takes him several seconds to place it. It looks almost identical to the cooling unit that he intentionally broke at his uncle's shop.

"Hey, I found something!"

[grendel]

15:30:16 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - 5420 Mont Clair Blvd, Redmond, Seattle

"Load three mags for your pistol," replied Kovacs, placing the kydex holster and twin mag shingle on the counter. "From here on out you go armed."

Mac nodded wordlessly, opening up another box of ammo. The taller samurai hefted a pair of the ammo crates and headed out to the truck, returning a minute later for the last two. Locus stowed her assault rifle and submachinegun into a pair of soft cases that bulged with exterior pockets for magazines and cleaning gear. Mac clipped the holster to her belt, sliding it back and forth to find the position of optimal comfort with her hip. The Browning slid into the grip of the plastic, an unfamiliar weight on her right side that was only partially balanced by the pair of magazines on left. She shrugged her shoulders, settling the ride of her jacket over the weapon.

Kovacs handed her the FN P93's case while he slung the Alpha's over his shoulder. With a last nod to the elf behind the counter, they walked back out to the Land Rover. Once more he pointed them north, the glass and concrete spires of downtown growing closer as they crossed over Lake Washington. Kovacs skirted along the northeast side of downtown, heading into the university district, winding his way through innumerable side streets before stopping in front of an unmarked four story brick building.

Mac glanced at the address out of curiosity, but the plain white numbering over the door told her nothing. 4030 West 134th St. She remembered his conversation with Drift, though.

"Tristan?" she asked, shifting in her seat as the butt of her pistol dug uncomfortably into her side.

Kovacs scanned the street once more, his eyes moving restlessly. "Tristan," he confirmed with a nod. She followed him out of the vehicle.

"There a chance of bloodshed with this one as well?"

"Probably, although not ours," was Kovacs' cryptic reply. Mac grimaced but said nothing.

Through the double doors, the building reveals itself to be a gym. The spandex-clad coed behind the counter watches them as they walk past without signing in, but says nothing. Mac is a bit relieved when they turn towards the stairs rather than heading across the vast open bay full of artificially tan bodies, sweating and straining at their machines. They ascend all four flights, passing floors with treadmills, stair climbers, and elipticals. Ranks of stationary bikes stand ready for the next spin class, while crossfit racks and gear dominates the third floor. Emerging onto the fourth floor, they follow a narrow hallway between rooms dedicated to yoga and dance fitness before halting in front of a door guarded by a fit young man in black running pants and muscle tee.

The man looks at Kovacs. Kovacs looks back. After a moment the man nods and steps back. Kovacs holds the door for Mac, and closes it behind them as he steps through.

The room beyond is concealed in shadows, the only feature well lit is a broad circular dais, maybe six meters in diameter. Kneeling in the brilliantly illuminated circle are three men. Each is stripped to the waist, revealing thick, muscular torsos, beaded with sweat in the warmth of the room. Each holds a sheathed sword in his left hand, the weapons laying parallel to them on the mat. Mac realizes that they have their eyes closed. She leans towards Kovacs to ask him what the drek was going on, but he held his hand up to forestall her. They moved along the wall, drawing closer to the ring. She could make out other shadows in the room now, perhaps a dozen other individuals watching silently. As they wait, the air seems to grow thicker, electric with some kind of energy.

On a silent signal, the men explode into combat. The transition is so sudden that Mac is unable to discern the movement. One instant the three are kneeling motionless, the next their bodies are torquing through their initial attacks. The fight is swift and brutal, a full power contest run at sprinting speed. Although it's two against one, the one holds his own with vicious adroitness. Mac winces at the dull thud of flesh on flesh, or the louder crack of polished mahogany against itself.

The first blade comes free with a wet hiss, the dark folded steel of the katana gleaming in the harsh overhead light. The other two follow in short order, but the speed and ferocity of the battle don't slacken. Mac blinks as she watches blood flow, each of the fighters suffering from two or three shallow wounds. She glances at Kovacs, but finds him focused entirely on the battle in front of them.

A sharp cry from the ring draws her attention back, and she's in time to see one of the fighters collapse off the stage, his chest awash with blood from a vicious cut on his shoulder, his arm hanging limp and broken. Figures coalesce from the darkness, drawing the injured fighter away from the dais and beginning first aid.

Mac looks back to the fight, her guts knotted. Steel rings on steel but the fighter that resisted two is more than a match now for a single opponent. The fight is over as suddenly as it begins, and as the two draw apart Mac can see that the first fighter's sword has pierced his opponent's torso, a hand's breadth of steel emerging from his back. Surprisingly, he bows stiffly, a gesture returned by the victor, before the wounded man steps down off the stage. Once more, a figure draws close and Mac watches as slim hands slowly withdraw the weapon before pressing down against the wound. After a few minutes, she sees the wounded fighter tremble, then draw a deep breath, nodding.

Magical healing! she realizes with a start.

"Kovacs," says a voice close by, and Mac tears her gaze away from the ritual healing. The winning fighter stands before them, his sword resting casually over his shoulder.

"Tristan," replies the tall street samurai. Silence stretches between the two men.

"You're going to burn it all down, aren't you? You're going to make this one the last."

Kovacs nodded. "One way or another."

Tristan smiled. "Let's not waste any more time, then."

[DeliciousD]

15:28:00 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Bahr Industrial Processing Facility, 3280 Hewitt Ave, Everett

Joslyn looks over to where Remy is standing.

"Anything interesting? All I got over here is..." he lets some unidentifiable piece of a Winternight member fall out of his hand with an audible plop "...Goo? Couldn't even use this for spare parts." he lets out a short, manic chuckle then clears his throat, shaking his head to refocus.

He walks over to look at what Remy found.

"Looks like part of a cooling unit." Remy announces uncertainly.

"Is it attached to anything? I want to know what they need cold so badly."