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

[Vegas]

05:13:09 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac nodded as she tucked her feet up beneath her, grateful for the slightly warmer conditions inside the Roadmaster compared to the warehouse.

“Something like that, yeah. I guess I miss my own bed a little more than I expected.” She smiled softly towards the rigger as she laughed softly at herself at the truth behind that statement. “I guess it’s been quiet around here for a few hours at least if the rest of us were sleeping… Or trying to.”

Mac’s eyes moved about the interior of the Roadmaster, settling back on Drift while he worked. She quietly wondered about each of the members of the team, how they got to this point, what they had given up along the way. She knew a bit of the backstory on each of them, had seen what Drift walked away from in order to keep his family safe, but she hardly knew any of them. She chewed on her lip while her thoughts wound themselves in circles in her head.

“So, did we get what you needed for the keycards? So Isomer can work his magic and get us in that much closer?” She had trusted the glowing green LED on the card copier in the heat of the moment and had been so drained when she came back she hadn’t stuck around to be certain all her efforts weren’t for nothing.

[grendel]

05:19:31 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"Far as I know it did," replied Drift, his eyes closed. The network display that dominated the holodisplay in the Roadmaster was smaller than the unit setup outside in the warehouse, but Mac could tell that the rigger remained submerged in his network, only preferring to speak due to her proximity and, she guessed, others that might still be listening on the network. An icon briefly highlighted itself in the display.

"Kovacs left about thirty minutes ago to meet up with some of his contacts," explained Drift. "He said that our passkeys would be ready and would at least get us through the outer fenceline. It's still going to be dicey breaching the facility but if we move quick enough it should succeed."

His mouth twisted in distaste at something, though.

"What's your concern, then?" probed Mac. After a moment, the ork sighed.

"The entry plan hinges on Suda being able to get you guys to the rooftop quickly and quietly."

[Vegas]

05:31:02 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

If Mac hadn’t been so tired still she might have been able to reign in the look of surprise that flashed across her features for a moment longer than she would have liked. She shook her head as much to hide her tell as much as to share in Drift’s concern. She already was edgy around those that were magically inclined, and the idea of having someone who obviously wasn’t terribly fond of her to begin with having the job of using her magic to control Mac’s ability to get to the roof definitely didn’t sit well with her.

You've got to be kidding me. Seriously? Yeah, that’s going to end well.

“Never a dull moment with the four of you is there?” Mac laughed softly beside herself as she realized how small their chances of success were growing as each layer of the plan was revealed. But a chance was a chance no matter how slim, and unless everyone decided it was a lost cause, there was no way she'd convince Kovacs to institute Plan B. No matter what their relationship had become, she wasn't foolish enough to think he'd turn his back on his team for her.

"Everyone else out on their own errands this morning as well, or are they grabbing some sleep? I didn't pause to look around when I got up."

Mac rolled her shoulders forward and back, trying to work out the kinks and the tightness that settled there.

"I don't suppose there's a stash of coffee anywhere near by. Something tells me if I go off on a search of my own I'd never hear the end of it." She smiled despite the truth of that statement. "If there's anything I can do to help you out this morning, give me a holler? Otherwise I could use a little time to sort some things out on my own..."

Right now she wanted to settle the riot that still plagued her head, to center herself before Kovacs got back from whatever he was up to this morning and she didn't have any more time to herself, and some time working through the Asanas alone sounded like the perfect remedy unless Drift had something for her to work on.

[grendel]

05:36:17 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"Nope, everyone else is still catching some rest. The man is the only one out and about. He got the required four hours of downtime and then started checking things off the list."

Mac didn't need Drift to explain further, knowing that he was referring to the artificial implant which allowed the user to sleep only a single REM cycle and emerge rested and fatigue free. She wondered if Kovacs still suffered from the nightmares, and how he was dealing with them without a midnight cup of tea. Drift dropped an icon into her AR, indicating the small hot water heater in the small amenities section of the Roadmaster.

"Don't take the coffee out into the warehouse, though," he admonished. "You'll wake up Tristan with the smell and he just went down to rest a couple hours ago."

[Vegas]

05:51:57 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac nodded her understanding as she uncoiled her legs from beneath her and got to task, thinking even day-old soykaf sludge would have made her happy this morning.

“Got it, I don’t want to wake sleeping beauty. Guess you’ll be stuck with me for a little longer. Can I make you anything?”

She shrugged when Drift politely declined and brewed a cup for herself strong enough to wake the dead before she curled herself back up on the bench seat, her fingers wrapped around the cup as she inhaled deeply and a genuine smile graced her lips. Coffee and eventually yoga would be a good start to the day, no matter what it might bring. Figuring she’d make the most of the time she had alone with Drift she continued the more pressing line of conversation from before.

“So if the plan is to get us to the roof, and Suda’s more than capable, why the concern?”

She took a sip from her cup, feeling the slow burn of the hot liquid as her thoughts were already voicing multiple opinions on reasons the plan raised red flags for her, but she was curious to hear the rigger’s thoughts if he was willing to share them.

[grendel]

05:56:06 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Drift, though supine and submerged, still managed to convey his tone enough for Mac to fill in the blanks.

"Because Kovacs doesn't trust her. And I don't trust who he doesn't trust. And it's bad business to go into a run with people you don't trust. You start second guessing them and looking over your shoulder. It didn't used to be this way. Before- um. Before."

Mac tilted her head to the side, taking a sip from her coffee. "Before what?"

The rigger shifted uncomfortably. "Y'know. Before."

Mac's eyes probed silently, waiting. Drift fidgeted, then sighed.

"Don't tell him I told you. Suda and Kovacs used to have a thing."

She chuckled. "Drift, anyone can see that from the way they talk."

"Naw, not just that," replied the rigger. "They used to be serious. And then they weren't. And neither one of them would talk about it. That's what really broke us up. It took eight months, maybe a year, but the team wasn't working anymore. So Kovacs lined up a last few jobs, really profitable ones, took us out clean and gave up the life. Or so we thought."

[Vegas]

06:08:06 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac found herself nodding along in agreement over Kovacs's lack of trust towards Suda, that was nothing new but the further explanation of their relationship, that nearly knocked the wind out of her. She was grateful in that moment that Drift was submerged and couldn't see the cracks in her poker face start to show. She swallowed hard and shook her head, her very own mask of indifference slipping into place.

"Well that makes more sense as to why she's here. Doesn't help the fact that everyone's got issue with her though and so much is riding on her to get us in..." She trailed off, stopping short of what she could have and wanted to say.

And she's already said she's going to betray us...

She drank long from her cup, but the bitter coffee couldn't stave off the chill that ran through her and only added to the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I appreciate you being candid with me Drift, means a lot actually." Her voice was flat, but the sentiment was genuine. A few choice words left her with more questions and the one person who could provide answers wasn't around to do so, nor was she in a position to ask. She needed an escape, something a bit stronger than yoga would provide.

Mac downed what was left of her coffee and stood back up on slightly shaky legs.

"Thanks for the coffee, I'm just gonna step outside the door and grab a smoke for a few."

Slipping from the Roadmaster before Drift could protest, she grabbed her coat and found her heels were still where she had kicked them off hours earlier near the command center and made a bee-line for the side door, lighting up before she had even stepped outside the first of what would likely be many cigarettes to come as she fought her flight response.

[grendel]

06:23:29 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

The first cigarette did little to calm the riot of emotions that screamed through her head, and Mac lit another immediately afterwards as she paced along the edge of the warehouse. This new information on the history between Kovacs and Suda worried her. Was he trusting her solely because she was someone he'd broken rules with before? Did his feelings for her blind him to the magnitude of damage that her betrayal would cause? It seemed so unlike him to underestimate those effects. His trademark when it came to operations was one of silent, cold calculation. Mac had a hard time reconciling that, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd seen an intelligent man do stupid things for a woman. Her second cigarette burned her fingers as it ashed down to the filter and she cursed, tapping out another one.

"You seem like a woman with a problem," said Suda, emerging from the shadows by the door. "Anything I can help with?"

[Vegas]

06:31:49 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

The moment the Cat Shaman slipped from her shadows was the moment Mac’s walls went all the way back up. Knowing full well that Suda could read her emotions as easily as if she was reading an email, Mac did her best to reign them in, choosing to speak in half-truths and omissions.

“Unless you’ve mastered time travel with your brand of magic, doubtful.” She lit her third and final cigarette, crumpling the now-empty pack and shoving it into her pocket along with one hand to warm it up. Slowly exhaling a stream of blue-grey smoke that curled around her face she was as close to truthful with the woman as she felt she could be.

“Just trying to make sense of life turned upside down, inside out and sideways in a very short span of time.” She dismissed it with a nonchalant wave of her hand that would have made even Tristan proud and managed to smile over that in spite of herself. She would have loved to ask some poignant questions of the woman who stood before her, but uncertain of what hornet’s nest she might stir up, and even more certain she wouldn’t particularly want to know the answers, Mac kept quiet and decided to keep the peace instead.

“Kind of you to offer to help, but I don’t think there’s much you can really do. So I'm out here, drowning my thoughts in nicotine and taking a moment to enjoy the cold morning air and the relative quiet of the early hour. And of course trying not to wake Tristan with the aroma of coffee.”

[grendel]

06:37:14 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Suda's laugh was soft and musical. "If ever there was a man who proved the adage about food and the heart, it would be Tristan. It's kind of you to be considerate of his rest."

The slim shaman pulled the cowl of her cloak tighter about her face as the winter wind swirled about the two women, wisps of snow scurrying down the empty street. After a moment, she sighed.

"And as for the first part, not even the most powerful among us can turn back the river of time, nor even affect its flow. Everyone has regrets in their past they would change if they could."

She might have said more, but at that moment an airy, ethereal presence manifested before her, communicating silently. The hairs along Mac's arm stood on end as the spirit made its presence known. Suda nodded, dismissing her minion with a gesture before quirking a smile at Mac.

"No rest for the wicked it would seem." Turning, she disappeared back into the shadows of the warehouse as silently as she arrived.

[Vegas]

06:51:39 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac let our her breath in a sigh along with the smoke from the last drag of her last cigarette as the shaman disappeared back inside. With a shake of her head that sent her dark curls tumbling she pulled her commlink from her pocket and fired off a quick message for the benefit of Kovacs’ eyes only.

Estimated ETA back? Wouldn’t mind monopolizing a few minutes of your time to talk if you can spare them.

She lingered outside just long enough fire off one more short but sweet message in Frankie’s direction as well.

Still breathing. Thanks again for the other day and the conversation, I really owe you. Let me know if you need anything.

Shoving her commlink back in her pocket, she took one last deep breath of the cold morning air and stepped back inside the relative warmth of the warehouse. Seeing Drift was still running ops from the comfort of the Roadmaster. Suda had disappeared to wherever she went to do her voodoo, and it appeared Tristan was still sleeping, she kicked her heels back off at the command center and tossed her coat over the back of one of the empty chairs. The burn of clove and nicotine still lingered on her tongue but it had only turned the volume of the chaos in her head from a 9 to a 5.

Mac rolled her neck from side to side trying to work out some of the tension before she realized just how tight every inch of her body truly was. She bent forward at the waist, placing her hands on the cool concrete floor and easing herself down to her forearms as she took a step back and put herself into Dolphin Pose. She moved herself into Downward Dog and forced herself to draw long, cleansing breaths and focus on the draw in as well as the exhale. She moved back between the positions two more times before she stood up and moved into Natarajasana and the questions in her head finally started to go nearly silent for the time being.

[grendel]

07:28:19 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac let herself sink into the meditation, quieting the riot of voices inside her head, the fears, the worries, the rage, all leeching away from her as she controlled her breathing. How distinct was the memory of just a few days ago, when Kovacs walked her through the same exercise. She made an effort to put even that away, to clear her mind of everything and exist solely within the nothingness of the universe. Gradually she became aware of something else, some deep reservoir of calm nearby, as if she sat on the shores of a vast, placid ocean. The energy washed over her and through her, buoying her spirits and soothing her macerated nerves.

Mac opened her eyes, breathing deep for the first time in days and not feeling as if a vice were crushing her ribs. Blinking, she realized that Tristan was awake, seated just a meter away in his own meditation. His eyes were closed, and his fingers intertwined in his lap in a complex pattern reminiscent of the Kuji Kiri meditation used by the samurai. Shirtless, he seemed immune to the chill of the warehouse, and Mac couldn't help but stare at the patina of scars tattooed across his muscles. He smiled, not opening his eyes.

"You're very centered for someone so young. Your meditation skills are impressive."

Mac shrugged. "Thanks, I'm sure yours are better, though."

Tristan opened his eyes, his gaze warm, yet piercing and direct. He spoke volumes with just a tilt of his head, a language she knew intrinsically but a message rarely sent her way. "I'm going to do a little physical practice," he said, stretching his shoulders. "You're welcome to join me if you'd like."

[Vegas]

07:36:22 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac nodded as Tristan's compliment softened the look on her face as she dropped out of her pose and into Mountain and held herself there until her body caught up to her head. She was grateful for Tristan's offer as well as his overall calming influence, not knowing what she'd do to otherwise occupy her time this morning.

"Sure, thanks."

She watched as Tristan rose to his feet with an effortless grace and as he walked away from her she could see the myriad of scars that continued across his back. Silently she wondered as she followed him, how long it would be if they made it through this run at all, before her emotional scars would turn to physical ones. Her train of thought might have instilled a sense of panic in others, but for her it brought a different sense of peace, further cementing her point of transition in her life.

Mac padded on bare feet behind Tristan across the warehouse as she wondered just what his choice of practice would be. A slight smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she remembered watching Kovacs and Tristan spar back at the house. They were fast and lethal where she was still slow and almost clumsy in comparison. Truth was she could probably use all the practice she could get right now given the circumstances.

[grendel]

08:13:56 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Retrieving a pair of dense plastic practice blades from his pack, Tristan handed one to Mac. In design, it wasn't that different from the blade she'd picked at Baendyrmal's forge, and she hefted it in her hand, finding a comfortable grip. Tristan moved them over to an empty area of the warehouse.

"All right, I know Kovacs has been working on your open hand skills a bit, but this is blade work so limit your offense to that. Start at half-speed and we'll pick things up as we warm up. Now, attack."

Mac blinked at him, then shook her head slightly, preparing for another pride-swallowing practice. Light on the balls of her feet, she circled, then slid in, slashing at the inside of his right wrist. Tristan did something, and her blade passed by without making contact. She glanced at him, waiting for the smile or snarky comment. Instead, his face was a mask of concentration, his eyes rolling over Mac's stance and form. She stayed inside, cutting at his torso. Again, her attacks were turned away, this time with blocks and controls rather than simple evasions. She didn't notice herself getting faster, but after another series of cuts she was breathing hard, her hand tangled with Tristan as she cut at his neck. He did something, twisting, and suddenly had her knife.

"Good," he said, taking a breath and handing her knife back. "You're quick and balanced, with a good eye for openings, but you're too linear in your movements and you're not being efficient when it comes to targets. Lets work through some angles and then we'll spar again."

[Vegas]

08:27:13 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac listened as Tristan began to teach her a different, more efficient way to attack and to defend. He both showed and shadowed her through the movements, through the angles, every movement fluid and graceful versus where her body and muscle memory from the streets fought the efficiency and control he tried to teach her

She thought in that instant about the differences between the teaching approaches of both Tristan and Kovacs which took her mind off on a tangent, missing the last piece of her instruction as her thoughts drifted to the Samurai who was missing from the warehouse.

In a split second she thought it odd she hadn't heard anything from Kovacs since she sent her message, and hoped it was nothing more than him being tied up with business. In a split second Tristan took advantage of her distraction, moving quickly in a way that put him behind her, immobilizing her with the plastic of the blade against her throat.

"You can't lose focus." The swordsman said matter-of-factly, unrelenting in his stance so the lesson would sink in.

Mac growled in response as she dropped her knife, her hands reached up and clamped tightly around Tristan's forearm and she pulled down with all her strength, loosening his grip enough for her to torque slightly against him and slip beneath his hold, scooping her blade back up and standing off to face him again.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, the thin cotton of her t-shirt clung to every inch of her skin that was glistened with a light sheen of sweat. She fixed her gaze on the swordsman's body instead of his face, trying to anticipate his movement while she managed one word between breaths.

"Again."

[grendel]

08:54:26 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Tristan nodded, and reset for the drill. This time he was the one who slid in on the attack, moving at a speed reduced enough that Mac would have a chance. She still didn't catch the first one in time, feeling the dull plastic blade slide across the inside of her right elbow in a cut that would have severed half the nerves and blood vessels had it been real. She stayed inside, riding the flow and rhythm of the fight, her blade searching for the openings against the targets Tristan had showed her. Once again she could feel herself speeding up, twisting tighter, blade moving in closer circles. Fatigue was rapidly catching up to her, though. Full speed sparring wasn't an exercise she was used to, and as her breathing became ragged so did her form. At last, when she could tell that Tristan was turning aside her attacks with ease, she put all she had into a straight lunge, her blade spearing out for him. Again, just as it seemed she would hit home, he moved, flowing around her attack somehow and locking up her arm tight enough that the blade dropped from her nerveless fingers.

"Ow! Cheater!" Mac rubbed her arm, glaring at the swordsman, who smiled back at her.

"If you ain't cheatin', you ain't tryin'. But I'll show you that one tomorrow." Tristan scooped up the blade from the floor. "Nice work."

"Yeah, yeah," Mac grumbled, retrieving her shirt and checking her commlink by reflex. Kovacs had replied to her text some fifteen minutes ago.

Back at 0930. We can go for a ride.

[Vegas]

09:22:54 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac couldn’t hide the small smile that turned up the corners of her lips as she read the message, even knowing the intense conversation that was likely to come onceKovacs returned. Instead of letting herself get worked back up over the thought of it, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing to long deep breaths, trying to find her way back to that oasis of calm from earlier with Tristan.

When she finally got her heart rate down to something approaching normal, she fired off a quick reply as she headed back to get cleaned up and changed out of what had become her workout clothes.

I’ll be ready.

As she dug through her things she threw on well-worn jeans and a grey cowl-neck sweater. She brushed her hair into a high ponytail and touched a tiny bit of her favorite perfume behind her ears as an instant pick-me-up. Looking around, she took a few extra moments to empty her clutch from the night before. Mac returned various items back to the small teal box buried in her things. As her fingers moved over the various patches, pills and chip cases her attention lingered on the single unlabeled grey chip in the group. The one Kovacs had handed her in his living room. The one that contained all his "recipes".

Deftly plucking the chip from the box, curiosity got the better of her as she sat on her cot and popped it into the chipjack of her commlink and waited to see what it really contained.

[grendel]

09:28:32 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac's commlink whirred, then threw up a pair of graphics into her AR. The first was a text file titled Kovacs - LWT, a pale green paper file icon, while the second was a matte hash indicating an unreadable file, this one called Kovacs.pra. Curious, Mac was about to open the first file when the rumble of the garage door interrupted her. Kovacs nosed the truck through the opening, parking just inside rather than pulling all the way forward next to the Roadmaster. Drift emerged from his truck at the same time as Kovacs stepped down from his, Tristan was right behind, his mouth full of a bite of a sandwich he'd appropriated from somewhere.

Kovacs passed out thin shrink-wrapped packages to everyone, pausing momentarily to ensure the name scrawled on the top matched the recipient.

"ID and passkey," he explained unnecessarily, "Good for twenty four hours after first use so keep 'em in reserve until at least Monday if not Tuesday."

He was still holding one packet and Mac assumed it was for him until he stopped and glanced around before letting his lips twist momentarily. Tristan held out his hand but Kovacs waved him off.

"I've got another couple of errands to run with Mac, we'll be back by noon. Drift, I want to do a drive by of the facility today to make sure our exit routing is viable. Tristan, head back to Geisty's and tell him if we use the visas we'll be entering the Underground via the Northeast Tollroad and that they should be expecting us. I'll lend you the truck after we get back."

Tristan nodded. "What time tomorrow did you want to run by the depot and pick up our goods from Demetria?"

Kovacs glanced at Drift, who consulted some kind of internal timeline. "Five hours to get everything loaded."

"1300," Kovacs said to Tristan, "tell them to be ready. I want to be in and out at speed."

Tristan nodded in reply again, his mouth full of food. Kovacs turned to Mac. "I'll be ready to go in a couple of minutes, I've got to drop this with Suda. You can wait in the truck if you want to."

[Vegas]

09:40:11 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac’s eyes narrowed with the beginning of a question that didn’t leave her lips before she shook her head, shrugged and made her way up to the passenger door of the Rover by way of the command center to grab her coat. She just decided to tack that last question onto the ever growing list that was formulating in her head as she pulled open the door and climbed up inside.

Her commlink shivered with an incoming message as she settled in and she decided while she waited for Kovacs she’d start clearing out her ever growing list of unanswered messages and emails. Many were from her now-former clients, and she tried to suggest to her favorite clients introductions to other girls in her inner circle that she thought would fill the void of her leaving the business, at least for the time being, as she honored the agreement she had made last night.

Last night...

Mac closed her eyes and leaned back against the slight recline of the front seat and replayed portions of last night in her head. What was so different about Kovacs that she said yes? That she wanted more than a casual relationship with him? She shook her head slightly and her attention was pulled back to the pale green paper file icon still glowing on her commlink. Maybe more answers would be inside. Manipulating her AR she started streaming one of her favorite playlists and as the familiar first notes filled her ears, she opened the file and started reading.

She was only mildly aware when Kovacs opened the driver's side door and slid into the truck and was completely oblivious to her softly singing along with her music...

"Hold on
We're so strong
Now we fight as one
Forever together
And I'll save ya when the sky falls
Can you hear the siren call?"

[grendel]

09:57:02 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

The text hovering in Mac's AR destroyed whatever calm she'd managed to achieve during her yoga.

M: If I don't make it back from this mission, go to the long term storage on N 142nd St in the University District. Locker number 307. The code is 130 - 616 - 45. Everything inside is yours to do with as you please. Use it to equip yourself for the shadows. If you don't want the picture, please give it to Linda at Studio Milan. You know the addresses to the safe houses, but after this run they may be compromised. I wouldn't visit them for at least a couple of months. If anyone else survives, don't contact them. Let them disappear back to their lives. The shadows are now your home. Remember the lessons that I tried to teach you, and learn from the mistakes that I made. Shoot straight, conserve ammo, and never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon. For what it's worth, in a lifetime of war, you brought me a measure of peace. -K

[Vegas]

10:05:49 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

Yanking the slim cable from behind her ear made the glowing file go dark, yet did nothing to erase the words she had read from her memory. The sudden silence and the steady vibration of the vehicle as they drove away from the warehouse were of little comfort to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight for a moment as she drew a long and shallow breath before she turned her gaze upon Kovacs as he drove on silent and stoic as ever. Suddenly all the questions she had both seemed so trivial and important at the same time and their priorities were ever shifting. The fact that he said she brought him peace was not lost on her, but the short amount of time felt unfair. A quiet bitter laugh chided her, reminded her when was her life ever fair. Her voiced cracked as she broke the silence.

"Tell me one thing. This..." She hesitated, trying to put her thoughts into words. "Whatever this is between us exactly... It is real, no?" She tried to temper the hope in her voice, because his answer would determine what she said next.

[grendel]

10:08:02 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs glanced over at Mac, his eyebrow raised in some confusion as to what she was referring. He read her body language, though, and his eyes caught the end of the OMC emerging from the data port on her commlink. Turning back to the road, he took a breath, careful to compose his face. There was a time for information control and manipulation, a time for operational deception, and a time for honesty. This was one of those times. He looked back to Mac.

"It's as real as it gets."

[Vegas]

10:11:17 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

Mac felt the electricity of his words race through her and fill the cab of the truck, it steeled her for the next detour in their conversation. There were things that she needed to say, pieces of history she needed to know in order to say them.

“So, about Suda,” There was no trace of malice or jealousy in Mac’s voice, though it was altogether different. More matter-of-fact and serious than usual. She was going to open that Pandora’s box no matter if she truly wanted to or not… Too much was at stake to not speak up.

"The history is obvious, but I want...I need to hear it from you."

She listened as he started to speak, to talk about their history in an operational sense, as a part of the team. Mac shook her head and cut him off.

"No Kovacs, the deeper history. The one everyone evades and dances around. The one everyone eludes to but can't confirm. The one that I need to know doesn't compromise you in all of this... The one that has everyone on edge and untrusting."

She almost regretted the question as she watched his jaw set with tension and his eyes stayed focused on the road ahead. The silence that stretched on became uncomfortable but she was unapologetic and kept her gaze locked on his face as he drove on.

[grendel]

10:19:28 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

After several minutes of silence, Kovacs reaches over and engages the autodrive on the truck. He waits until the pilot reports a green status, all safety and control protocols engaged before running a hand through his hair.

"Suda was in love. We were in love. She didn't tell me until afterwards, though. It was about a year, maybe eight months before the team broke up. We were pulling a tight job, high risk, high reward. I told Suda she couldn't come. I couldn't stay objective about the operation and still have her there with us. She didn't take it well. Blew up on me, called me all kinds of names, told me I couldn't control her, stormed out. The usual. I relented, and let her come along."

Kovacs paused, taking a breath. His face is the emotionless mask of an already doomed man receiving further condemnation.

"The run went down without a problem until the very end. We never found out if it was accident or design, but we tripped an alarm and had to withdraw under fire. Suda got cutoff and I went in after her. She didn't make it out, and pulling her body out cost me."

His left hand, still flesh and bone, gestures towards the synthetic limb grafted to his shoulder.

"It was only later, at the doc's, that I found out she was pregnant. The baby didn't make it."

He took another breath, deep and ragged. "They told me it would have been a son."

[Vegas]

10:25:51 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Hwy 161 southbound out of Tacoma, Seattle

Mac felt her breath catch in her throat in the same moment she felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath her. She had expected at least as much as the first part of the history. The latter half however was a bombshell and left her grasping for words that wouldn’t voice themselves to sentiments she couldn’t even begin to put together.

A barely whispered “Kovacs… I’m sorry…” was all she could manage as she dropped her gaze from his face to the floorboards and shook her head.

She was sorry for it all. For pushing for the truth, for his loss, for ever having his life get tangled in the mess that was hers. Actually, she wasn’t sorry for the last part at all. Her life had been more vibrant, more exciting over the last week than she could remember. The depths of the feelings she had for the man who sat beside her overwhelmed her at times, scared her a little even. Maybe a lot if she stopped and gave thought to it. She stared out the window and watched the city speed by outside as she continued to process what he had shared with her.

She was never good at relationships, they had never really fit into her life nor her lifestyle. In truth she couldn’t really qualify anyone from her past as being someone she was in love with. It had always been something else, naïveté or lust, well lust was a feeling and a vice she knew well enough, but it never gave her something to look forward to, never gave her hope and naïveté was what got her tied up with Wayne in the first place. Whatever relationship she had with Kovacs, working or something more, she swore in that very moment she wouldn't let him repeat history, she wouldn't let him do something foolish for her.

Mac reached across the center console and carefully intertwined her fingers with those of his synthetic. The rest of her thoughts and concerns could wait as she felt it would be rather cruel to second guess his ability to remain objective on the upcoming job and the last thing she could take given the situation was for him to push her away. She settled on a gentle squeeze of his hand if for no other reason than to let him know that she would continue to listen for as much or as little as he wanted to say.