1623 January 5 2063 - A street in Aurburn

The place isn't offering all that much in the way of non-violent options -- had Virgil said something about magic? -- but with the skill and instinct of long experience Dragon gradually managed to filtre out the people sounds around him, focusing all his hearing toward the shell of the burnt-out building.

There. He hadn't imagined it. Somewhere from that building was coming the small gasps of someone so far beyond pain that breathing itself came harsh and shaky and would be a relief to stop. He'd heard such things too often before. Without magical help within the next five minutes, he wouldn't be hearing this one too much longer.

Dragon turned slightly to one side and then the other, trying to isolate the small sound from its surroundings. Almost -- there!. As if visually he could suddenly picture exactly where in the building she would be, how the beams must have collapsed across her after they had burnt through. At some point he had started thinking of her as a "she".

Of the other person, Dragon could make out nothing. Didn't mean they weren't alive. There was a chance. There was always a chance.

Virgil's words suddenly broke into his concentration -- "believe that I can slip past the Lone Star perimeter using a spirit for cover" -- and he struggled to hold the picture in his mind, not letting himself hear them completely until he knew he wouldn't lose it. Succeeding, the meaning of the words connected with the half-plan in his mind: spirit, yes, there just might be enough cover for that if it's a reasonably powerful one, even with the perimeter as tight as it was. Just as long as none of the cops were mages -- but the radio exchange seemed to suggest that they were still waiting for their magical back-up.

"... once they know for a fact that people are still trapped, the Star will have to break perimeter ..."

Something connected. The fire elemental had attacked Virgil when he had gone scouting in the astral. In Aztlan, such creatures were commonly tied to guard an area inside some kind of boundary: and when a mundane penetrated such a boundary, it would manifest and use its power from a distance. These people would have gone up like torches. And if it stayed high enough and no one here was Awakened, not one of them could have touched it.

The Star wasn't acting here against whoever was still in that building. The Star had quite probably saved the lives of many of the people here by not letting them go in.

"To do this though I need you to keep that boorish sargent occupied, and not throw up any alarms when I call a spirit."

The Doc Wagon mage nodded curtly. "I'll do better than that, sir, if you'll get me in too." Before Virgil can quite react he's called over two of his people, explained the situation to them in a low voice: and with fresh energy they each begin arguing anew with one of the cops, one of them the original sergeant, one the thinner patrolman next to him. The sergeant looks and sounds suspicious, but it's not like he can do anything, not and leave his position covered, and besides that now he's got a Doc Wagon woman screaming in his face. With that the mage turns back to Virgil: "Let's go, we have no time to waste."

Dragon starts to explain his idea for a distraction as he sees Virgil returning, but checks at the sight of his unexpected partner. Virgil looks a bit dazed but relieved, like something worked out much more quickly than he expected: "Here's the plan ..."

1623 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Good to have an extra hand, plus a Doc Wagon mage should've have some strong healing magic.

"Here's the plan. We'll breach the perimeter at the point you've deemed to be optimal using your distraction to aid our passage," Virgil recieves a nod of understanding from Dragon.

"I am going to summon a spirit of the streets and use it's powers to help conceal our presence, as the distraction begins the spirit will also use it's powers to help confuse the perimeter guards. We will enter the building following your lead," Virgil again motions to Dragon. "Once inside in building you two will locate the two trapped victims while I keep a watch on the astral for any other hostile beings."

Making eye contact with the Doc Wagon mage for emphasis Virgil continued, "Once we find those victims we'll stablize them with magical healing and your team can take over."

"Once we've found those victims, they will have all the medical attention Doc Wagon can give them." responded the mage firmly.

Turning back to face Dragon, Virgil continued, "Go and ready your distraction. I'll get to calling our backup, and when you return, we'll move on your mark." Nodding in approval, Dragon turned on his heels and spirited away to see to his duties . . . seems like a sound plan, it's great to work with a proper professional again. Dragon thought as he remembered the failures of the last team he worked with.

As Dragon left to see about his duties. Virgil turned back to the mage. "Thank you for doing this."

"Are you kidding," replied the mage with a smile, "Thank you, I've been working with Doc Wagon for 5 years, and I think your the first 'good samaritan' I've met in this acursed city."

"If you know any invisibilty magic it would be great help since we cannot afford any error on out penetration." replied Virgil.

With that Virgil turned to face the building and focused on the auras of the trapped as he called out to the spirit world. Tyr, send the spirits of man to me, look favorably upon our cause.

Focusing all is will Virgil strained to make his call to the spirit world heard against the background count that stained the astral world in a dense fog. I must not fail those people. The desperation of the situation fueled Virgil's will and added urgency to his plea. Feeling the mana swirl around him, a call finaly reached his astral senses, as a shimmering shape took form against the fog. What do you wish of me . . .

1624 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Jogging back to the car, Dragon carefully and subtly grabs a few grenades out of his trunk from their case.

Let's see...a defensive for the distraction, since I don't want to actually kill anyone...maybe a pair of smoke, pair of concussion, just in case we gotta beat feet, and an extra offensive, in case things get really ugly.

Strapping them to his combat vest underneath his long coat, he chuckles to himself. Heh, you can take the merc out of the combat zone, but you can't take the combat zone out of the merc. Glad I brought this along.

Jogging to the opposite side of their planned penetration point, he carefully sets the timer for the full two minutes, and tosses it casually into the point most likely to not cause damage to the building and away from their entry point. Nothing fancy, just toss it so it'll roll into about the right spot. Don't need accuracy, just don't want anyone to notice.

Hurrying back to Virgil, careful not to draw attention to himself, he says, "Got our entry point figured, and the distraction is ready to go. We've got a little less than two minutes before it goes, so you better have your mojo up and ready to roll. Quick thing. You realize the people, even if they're who we're looking for, are going to be hospitalized and probably detained as witnesses for a while. That'll put a bite into our timetable."

He grins. "Not that that'll stop your goody goody self from trying to save them, but I just thought I'd put that out there." Looking down at his watch, he adds, "Get ready, it'll be any moment now."

1626 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

It was not the hardest struggle Virgil had ever had, to try to reach something clean through the astrally imprinted record of pain and violence.

It was also very far from the easiest.

To reach out, to find that thread of the place as it should have been and hold it and shape it and send out his request to it, great Tyr help me ...

Virgil swayed, then crumpled to his knees -- but when the mage would have moved closer to help he managed somehow to wave him away, desperately focusing all his will into something clean, something which partook and was the essence of the city ... and then it was there before him, rising almost out of the ashes like some pale echo of Phoenix; and through it and in it Virgil had a faint, blurred sense of laughter and food and gaming, what this place must have been like, before someone had decided someone else knew too much. In a voice that was like laughter and food and gaming Virgil heard it ask: "What do you wish of me ..."

That's when the grenades went off.

Even as far away as they were, even planned for minimal damage, what was left of the building shivered, and thick smoke began billowing up almost at once. Cries and screams from onlookers already half-veiled by the black smoke.

The spirit seemed to darken and twist in sudden agony. Virgil had a sudden sense of something lost, but didn't know what it was. Struggling, he clung to the clean vision he had seen earlier -- and although a knife lanced through his head and spots began drifting across his sight, he found the pattern again and held it. "Concealment," he told it quickly, "we three; and confusion ..." He was struggling to get the words out against a suddenly thick tongue, but he had made himself understandable enough, and the spirit stretched out, engulfed them --

Overlay: what was, what is. Darkened remains of tabletops an unreal image through people perched around that table and earnestly discussing the day's receipts: distinct pleasure there but also ambition -- we have to do better! -- other people all around, time blurred, people coming, people going, bright veneer of life, a thin, black man, a handshake of mutual understanding; a dark man talking, dark not in the colour of his skin but in his eyes and his soul, and the owner in front of him petrified, shaking her head, and he reaches out his hand to plant it against her brow -- she screams, but the rest of her body cannot move, and others rush in to help her -- and he shrugs, and says a Word, and fire rips the place apart --

Virgil never remembers Dragon and the unknown mage beside him guiding him through the perimeter and into the building, but he knows that somehow they must have: how else could he have gotten here? But the mage beside him sighs and folds together the monitor he has been holding: "Too late. He's gone."

"No!" says Virgil, and he clings to the trace he still holds, digging through ashes and through soot, and despite the mage's sudden resignation he kneels down and joins him and after a moment Dragon does too, shifting the beams carefully so the entire structure would not suddenly shift and kill the person already barely clinging to life -- as had happened bare minutes ago to the man sprawled on top of her, the one the Doc Wagon mage had been looking for.

She must have survived because she was standing right next to the bastard who called in the elemental. So help me Tyr, I'll --

"She's still alive," says the Doc Wagon mage in a tone of sudden relief. "But she's not one of ours ..."

1628 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

"Never mind," he said suddenly, chopping off with his hand a protest Virgil had not realised he was intending to make and the words Dragon might just have been beginning to say. A tired smile touched his eyes. "Let some good come out of today, at least."

He knelt over the woman, and Virgil could almost sense the gathering mana.

After almost too long, he stood up again -- and staggered, as if the land had suddenly tilted under him. Dragon caught him and would have steadied him, but the mage jerked his arm away. "I've done what I can," he said curtly, and his eyes were chilling as he looked up at the two of them, "but the body will still need time to catch up and integrate the healing." His monitor made a small beep as he scanned the Doc Wagon bracelet from the man below her. "Take her and go. I'll take my chances with the Star."

Virgil felt an urgent need to say something, anything -- but for the life of him he could not think of what.

The mage must have caught some of it. "Friend," he said, his eyes softening a little, "he's almost forgotten who he is, and you're walking the same path."

Without another word he walked away.

1628 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

Dragon looks up at him sharply. "Not one of yours? I assume you mean not one of your paying customers. But you're a doctor, right? Or at least a medic? You gonna help us, or just walk out?" He softens slightly, and fires out a mischevious sort of grin. "Besides, you are here already. I'd say if nothing else, you may as well take the chance to do some good, even if it is free of charge."

Despite the tension of the situation, the DocWagon mage gives a tired smile, born of someone who's seen too much death, but recognizing that yes, he can do some good. Even if it's off the clock.

Maybe that's the best kind of good, one where there's nothing in it for you but you do it anyway. Dragon thinks to himself as they continue to dig through the rubble to save the woman buried underneath the wreckage. Keeping his senses sharply attuned for anything that might prove a problem, whether from the perilious environment or the oh so altruistic Lone Star just outside, the three of them dig quickly, managing to free the woman fairly quickly.

Crouching, Dragon looks out into the Lone Star perimeter. Without looking at them, he asks Virgil and the DocWagon mage, "Can you move her now and stabilize later? I'm not too sure how much longer this thing will hold up, and I don't want to be here when Lone Star comes calling. Otherwise, better work that mojo and let's hurry out of here."

Looking at the DocMedic now, he adds, "Listen, I know you can't take her, since she isn't one of your customers and all. The almighty bottom line, right? But we can, and my buddy, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes, will take care of her, for free. So if you can just help us get her out of here in one piece, you can rest knowing she's all right, and we'll take it from here. Cool?"

1629 January 5 2063 - A street in Auburn

And then what the mage had been saying caught up with Dragon.

1628 January 2063 - A street in Auburn

As the mage walked out of the opposite side of the crumbling structure, Virgil could not stop a pang of remorse from setteling in is stomach. He had not asked the mage for his name because the confusion and urgency of the situation had not allowed for the time, plus Virgil had deemed it better if his and Dragon's identities were not revealed to a stranger. His initial mistrust for a stranger only fueled Virgil's regret in the face of such nobility and duty..

Your deeds here will not be forgotten. Virgil thought as he made a silent vow to ensure that the kindness of the unknown mage was returned in full someday. Tyr demands that honor begot honor, nobility begot nobility.

"Dragon, quickly, while chaos still reigns outside we need to get her back to the car. Plenty of safer places to care for her once we're out of here."

At least she's stabilized, but she will still need more care . . and soon.

With a gentleness that suprised Virgil, Dragon reached down and lifted the unconscious women into his arms as if he were cradeling a newborn.

Feeling the spirit's presence still enveloping him Virgil led the way out of the rubble following the path they'd gained entrance with. He could see several Lone Star officers bustling around trying to calm the crowd who's panicked state had been reignited by the gernade blast. Looks like they have more important things to worry about . .

The three figures slipped back through the perimeter which was starting to dissolve as officers were forced to wade into the crowd in order to stem the chaos. As they reached the Americar Virgil caught the sight of the mage being accosted by the same chubby seargent, who was now angry beyond all belief . . Thank you, I will return this deed, by the name of Tyr.

Getting into the backseat of the car Virgil instructed Dragon to lay the women across the seat and rest her head in his lap. "I'll stay here and attempt to heal her further, please go and grab Father Bremen. If I'm knocked out from drain when you return, take us to 1618 Sagamore Drive in Pulyup. I have a friend their who can help us. . . "

1635 January 2063 - A street in Auburn

It took Dragon a few minutes to find Father Bremen in the large, panicking crowd. Moving amongst the injured and shocked, the priest was attempting to calm and soothe them, to bring comfort and healing to those he could. Approaching the large troll, Dragon suddenly appeared by his side. "Father, we need to go. We have other things we need to do, and they have to be done now."

Without turning, the big priest replied, "You go. My place is here among the sick and wounded. I need to be here for these people."

"I understand your concern. But there are medics here and help on the way. We need to take care of other matters right now, that are more important than this."

Whirling angrily to face Dragon, Father Bremen angrily snapped, "More important? More important? I don't know what you're up to exactly, but how dare you try to tell me there's something more important than helping those who need it?"

Most people would back off at the sight of a large, angry troll snapping at them. Dragon didn't even blink. "These people have help. More help is coming. If they don't have it now, they'll get it soon. There are others who have no help, and the only help they've got coming is Virgil and I. You want something more important than helping those who need it? Fine. How about helping those who need it and will never get it, unless we get going?"

The priest trembled; clearly despite his ordination into the priesthood he was not used to being spoken to this way. Apparently unconcerned and matching him stare for stare, Dragon continued, "What am I up to? I'm sure you've got your own ideas, but let me spell the bottom line out for you. You can't help Julia and you know it. Sooner or later, someone, anyone, is going to run her to ground and there won't be a damn thing you can do about it. Virgil and I are the only chance you've got of helping her, and maybe others, out of what could get real ugly, real fast. And whatever you may think of me or my motives, the bottom line is I have no bottom line on this. I'm doing this out of pure fragging charity, so that should say something right here."

Gesturing around, he says with the coldness of one who has experienced the factual brutality of war, "You think I haven't seen worse than this? I've seen it a thousand times, on both sides of the line. But at least in war, most of the time, people had a chance. Not much, I grant, but a chance. Here, bad luck. It happens. But Julia? She'll be slowly and deliberately fragged by whoever happens to decide to do it, and she won't be able to do a damn thing about it, and luck ain't gonna save her. You want to help someone? Help us to help her, because she doesn't have a fragging prayer if we don't."

Trembling, the troll visibly gains control of himself and breathes deeply, slowly inhaling and exhaling. "You're...right. I apologize. When I see this, I want so badly to help...sometimes I don't think clearly, and I almost lost it there..."

Dragon waves it off. "Null sweat. It happens. You've got feelings, emotions. It ain't like you want to see this happen, and when you do, you feel you gotta help. But anyway. Let's roll."

Arriving back at the car, they cram back into the Ford Americar, and without bothering Virgil, deep in spellcasting, Dragon heads off to the address he mentioned.

1618 Sagamore Drive in Puyallup, eh? Let's see what we've got there...And yeah, maybe that mage was right. Almost forgot who I am. I'm not a saint, I'm just a solider, and at the end of the day, it's just business. Just business...

And as they drove off, an image of Christina flashed into his mind, and as he saw her in his mind's eye, Dragon was forced to ask himself, "Or is it?"
He didn't have an answer. And he guessed he wouldn't have one for some time either. They drove in silence.

1650 January 2063 - A clinic in Puyallup

It was an address in one of the bad areas of Puyallup that was competing for worst. Dragon could feel the eyes all around him, the eyes weighing even this pathetic excuse for a vehicle, weighing them to decide if what they carried would be worth the almost certain injuries it would take to acquire it. A couple of street children ran up to him as he stepped out of the car, every nerve on edge -- and then several were swarming him, their hands, their weight pressing him back against the car. He'd be able to clear himself of them, he thought, but not easily; and some of them would almost certainly end up dead if he tried.

A clapping from behind him: one, two. "Hey! Ye kens the regs, ka! Move it! An' Stick" -- and a great, meaty hand descended into his field of vision, he hadn't quite been able to squirm around enough to see, before, and pulled out one of the kids -- "destash it."

The pressure eased, and Dragon cautiously straightened, to find the kid, at eye level, holding out his credstick to him -- while being held by the scruff of his jacket. "Sook," the owner of the hand boomed, giving the kid a good shake. She seemed to have only one volume of voice. "Anything else gone walkabout, soldier?"

"Ah -- no. I don't think." Fortunately he hadn't been carrying all that much else, and the keys would pretty much be useless without the car -- "er, the keys too."

She shook the kid again, who tried to squirm out of the jacket. "Where?"

"Tony got them. He gone."

"I can see that." She turned him around to face him, twisting the jacket so that he was trapped in it. "Ye ken the regs!"

"I ken them."

"Sook. One hour. Scram." She released him and he hared off and vanished into the warren of buildings. "You. Inside. Bring her."

Dragon almost shook his head in sheer bemusement. This woman -- this troll -- was a force of nature unto herself. And then as the shaman pulled himself out of the car on painful legs behind his charge. the female troll exclaimed: "Virgil?"

"Does every trog do-gooder know you?" muttered Dragon irritably, but under his breath. This was not qualifying as anywhere near a good day.

Virgil took the moment to steady himself and the woman who had spent most of that journey shaking and with her head resting on his chest. Somehow that front bucket seat seemed to have been moved back even further. "Dragon, meet Galina. She works with Juliette."

"Skip the intros, get her in here quick," said Galina, not paying the slightest attention to anyone but the woman even as Father Bremen was maneouvering his way out of the small car. "She's shocky, but she's beHealed." All of them could hear the capital letter. Looking at Virgil: "You?"

"No, someone else," and Virgil sighed, his mind elsewhere for a moment until Dragon said, in that level, polite voice that suggested he really wasn't going to be patient too much longer: "My keys?"

"He'll destash them. They ken the regs. You bringing her in here or what?"

Dragon let out a long breath. It was going to be one of those days.

1000 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Progress... Making Progress...., Andie thinks to himself as he goes to check on the circulation again. This is tedious work, but will be rewarding in the end. Patience...I have to have patience.

Everything looks normal, as he stirs the circulation and stokes the furnace; checking astrally the composition of the mixture.

He takes some measurements and notes; keeping records for later use.

1200 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie continues his work in the magic shop. He overhears younger voices in the other room. Sara must be about to start teaching a class....

1300 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The noise of students exiting from class reminds Andie what time it is and goes to check the circulation.

Once this is done he returns to the formula he is working on.

1710 January 5 2063- A clinic in Puyallup

Sitting in the dingy waiting room, complete with plastic fragging plants and the requisite cracked linoleum, Virgil plopped himself down on a beat-up old couch, protruding springs notwithstanding. Deciding he’d rather not deal with it for now, Dragon paced the silently, as he had for the last fifteen or so minutes since they brought the girl in. Father Bremen had gone outside to play with the kids, and to make sure that they did, indeed, ‘harken the regs’.

It’s a damn good thing it is him, and not me. At this point, I don’t think I’d be past putting a round into one of those little fraggers just to make a point. And maybe one more, just because. Looking over at the shaman, who was leaning back against the couch, eyes closed, Dragon fumed silently.

How the frag do I get myself into these things? What the frag? Lousy drek-eating motherfragging, doo-goodering, is that even a WORD? namby-pamby, rat-stinking, son of a slitch. Argh! If we weren’t friends there’s no fragging way I’d put myself through this aggravation. No fragging way. Well, that and if I wasn’t so damn sure we’d find a way to turn a profit. We did that time in Aztlan, after all, and that job back here in Seattle not too long ago. We’ll do it again. I just wish it wasn’t so damn annoying. Grr…

Without opening his eyes, Virgil broke the rhythmic cadence of Dragon’s footsteps. “So what’s the plan now? Any ideas?”

Luckily, not all that pacing time had been spent fuming. After considering the matter and playing through all the angles, Dragon did indeed have a plan. Nodding, he turned and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I got some. Let’s do this methodically, top priority to bottom. First, we need to start working on how we’re going to turn a profit out of all this. That means getting in touch with anyone and everyone who might be interested in acquiring a ‘protecting interest’ in Julia . Get on the horn with all your mage buddies and put out some feelers. Nothing too solid though, and don’t make us any commitments. We don’t know if she’ll even want to go, and something tells me we’re not going to force her somewhere against her will.”

Virgil shakes his head, and Dragon rolls his eyes at the entirely expected response. “You and your damn morals.” Shaking his head in disgust, he continues. “That said, there’s got to be at least one place she’d feel comfortable going.”

Piercing the shaman with is stare, which he knew Virgil could feel, eyes closed or not, he continued, “What I said to the priest still holds true. Someone, somewhere, isn’t going to give a damn about what she wants. So her options aren’t really stay free or not. It’s more like, go where you want or go where you don’t want. Either way though, she’s going. It’s just a question of where. So we may as well have a list handy for her to choose from. But we don’t want a rep as guys who can’t deliver, so make sure we don’t make any promises, and don’t give them any reason to put us on their list of people to ‘talk’ to.”

Still without opening his eyes, Virgil replies, “I’m not an amateur you know. I got it.”

“Right, right. Force of habit. Apologies. OK then, so that’s first up. That’s you, since you’ll know more people than I will. That’s your area. Next, we’re going to need someone with more diverse connections than either of us for a project like this. Additionally, for obvious reasons, it would be extremely useful to have a source of information privy to stuff we almost certainly won’t be. For some of my projects later on, I’m going to need that information source. I’ve got the line on someone who might be able to help us. She’s a reporter, long on talent but short on clout. I have a friend who could put me in touch, and told me that this chick is starting to get desperate. She might be willing to help us out with legwork and investigation in return for protection during her investigation, exposure to the ‘shadier’ side of the streets, and of course,” they both finish the sentence at the same time, Virgil’s eyes snapping open as they grin at each other, “an exclusive.”

Enjoying a shared laugh, a pleasant, if brief relief from the stress of the day and the meticulous business of planning, they quickly settle down as Dragon continues. “You take that info on Puyallup and the Mob. I don’t have the street level contacts here on the ground to make much out of that, and you’re a local, you should know some stuff about all that. I’ll track down Paris Sendor, after cultivating that reporter chick, I hope. She should be able to get somewhere with all that. And I’ll take the Lone Star guy, what was his name again, oh yeah, Albrecht . Neither of us has much juice with the Star I’m guessing, but I’ll take him just to even it out.”

Ticking off each item on his fingers as he silently recaps to himself, Dragon looks over at Virgil . “Did I miss anything?”

Just then, Galina comes out. “She’s sleeping now. I’ll be needin’ more time with her, time I’m sure you lads could be doin’ somethin’ else. So why dontcha go home now? I’ll get in touch with you when she can see you Virgil .”

Dragon is about to reply with a cutting comment that they can’t go home without the car keys, when the priest walks in, and tosses them to him. “Here you go son. Why don’t you two listen to the lady? I’m going to stay here a bit, and make my way home later. I’ll get in touch with you both as well if I hear anything.”

Dragon nods. “Right, let’s roll.” He turns to walk out, but Father Bremen catches his arm. “Listen…back there, at the fire. You were right son. You were right. I just wanted to let you know that, and let you know I appreciate what you’re doing here.” He releases his grip. “That’s all. Thanks boys. Good luck with your search, I’ll let you know if anything changes down here.”

Nodding acceptance of the apology, Dragon walks back to the car, Virgil right with him. As they hop in the car, they drive back in silence, until suddenly Virgil starts. “Wait. There is one more thing. When I assessed the place. There was, a ‘dark man’ there. He’s responsible for the fire. He’s someone we definitely want to find.”

Dragon raises an eyebrow. “Dark man? Like a black dude?” Virgil gives him a withering stare. “No idiot. Dark as in his soul is dark. I have no idea what race he is.”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Why the hell would I say dark? Why wouldn’t I just say black?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were being poetic or some drek like that!”

The friendly argument quickly subsides as Virgil says in all seriousness. “We want to find him, and then I want to have a long chat with him about just what is going on. Yeah, a real long chat indeed.”

Arriving at Virgil’s apartment, Dragon drops him off. “OK then, let’s get rolling with what we’ve got. Keep me posted, we’ll try to keep each other informed of current events so we can stay up to date with what’s up. Good luck.”

Virgil waved to the departing car as he headed back inside his apartment. Time to get to work.

Meanwhile, Dragon was thinking more or less the exact same thing.

Great minds think alike…?

Somewhere in Seattle, around 3 am

Pain ripping through her. Heavy hands around her
throat. A buzzing in her ears, louder and louder
--

A bit to her surprise, it wasn't Grail but the
landline that was pulsing so persistently.
Anne dragged herself over to the telephone.
"Hai?"

"Is this Anne Mariah Tenisat?" said a pleasant
voice.

"Hai," she answered, a bit of a growl entering her
voice.

"Recently a student at the University of Washington?"

"Hai." The growl was becoming more insistent. One
more question and she would hang up.

"You really don't want to hang up on us, Miss
Tenisat. I represent Debt Recovery Management
Service, contracted by the University of Washington,
and --"

She hung up. It promptly rang again. Then she took
the telephone off the hook and fell asleep.

1500 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie gets up from his research at the desk and walks over to check on the batch. I need a break from formulas....

He stirs the batch, gathers some magical energy from around him, and slowly injects the energy into the circulation....

1800 January 5 2063- Dragon's Home

Arriving back at the apartment where his grandmother and two sisters were staying, Dragon walked in the door and was greeted with a delighted shriek of, "Vincent!!!" by his little sister. Smiling broadly and running toward him, arms wide open, Cindy jumped off her seat at the kitchen table where she had been studiously doing her homework and rushed over to hug her brother.

Grinning broadly, he knelt down and wrapped her in his arms and stood with a quick motion, spinning around as he lifted his sister off the ground in a big hug. "Did you miss me sweetie?" he gently asked his sister, who had her arms wrapped around his neck. "Uh-huh. Where have you been? You haven't been home in a while." She leaned back, looking at him, playing idly with his jacket collar.

"I had to go to work. Is Susan home yet?" Nodding her head up and down, the little girl replied, "She's in her room."

"Did you finish your homework yet?"

A shake of the head. "But I'm working really hard on it!" she added eagerly. Putting her down, Dragon smiled at her. "OK honey. That's good. Keep working hard, ok?" An eager nod of the head, and she good-naturedly walked back to the table to keep working.

He smiled to himself. She's a good kid. I don't know how Mom and Dad did it, but they sure raised us right. She keeps this work ethic up, and she'll go far.
Down the hallway, he knocked on his other sister's door. "Come in." Opening it, he walked in and smiled at his other sister. "Hey Susan, I'm back. Just wanted to say hi."

Smiling broadly, his younger sister, older than Cindy by quite a bit, but still younger than him, came up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Did the job go ok? You haven't been back in a while."

Sighing, he sat down on her bed heavily. "No. It was a total bust. With one possible exception, every single one of the guys I worked with was a complete fragging amateur. It was unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. They literally pretty much quit mid-job. There was no way I could go it alone."

Sitting down at her desk, Susan looked at him empathetically. "Oh...are you ok? Did anyone make you?"

"No. No one made me. How could they?" He snorted derisively. "We didn't even make the attempt. When I say quit mid-job, I probably should say mid-planning. Never even happened."

Her eyes grew wide. "Are you serious? What about the Johnson? What's he going to say?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't know. I called him and gave him a status report. He has to get back to me. But it means all I got from that one was the advance, nothing else."

With a sly smile, she casually commented, "So maybe it was a good thing after all I took that scholarship, huh?" He looked up sharply and replied, "Don't start. You know I would've paid for your education and found a way. It's not like anyone here is going to starve, or we'll run short. Things might be a bit tight, but we'll manage. We always do."

She looked back at him unwaveringly, "I don't understand why you were so against it. The unit's been good to us. It's family. Hell, it's all any of us even grew up knowing. What's wrong with being in debt to it?"

"It's not towards the unit, just being in debt. That's what got mom and dad into the life in the first place. Just gives me an uneasy feeling."

"I understand." Rising, she walked over to him and sat down behind him, giving him a hug. "You still thinking about getting out?" Relaxing himself in her arms, Dragon replied, "I don't know. I really don't. Had to save someone today. Needed their info, but I got someone else killed in the process. Didn't mean to, but it happened. DocWagon wizworm made a comment, something about me starting to stray from who I really am. And he was right. Helping people, living a normal life..." He snorted. "I don't even know what a normal life is! I grew up with landmines in my front lawn and claymores determining the streets. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this normal business. Maybe none of us are."

Letting go and leaning back against the wall, Susan replied, "Christina didn't think that about you." Turning to face her, he replied dryly, "Yeah, but she didn't exactly know either."

Susan shrugged. "True. But the fact remains, if you really are nothing more than a soldier and a killer, it would show thorugh. No matter what she did or did not know. There's more to you, to all of us, than just that. You think mom and dad could've raised such a good family and good kids in these modern times if there wasn't more to us than that?"

Before Dragon could answer, their grandmother called from the kitchen, "Time to eat!" Dinner was peaceful and relaxing, as Dragon, his grandmother, and his sisters talked about what they had been up to in the days while he'd been working. It was good to be able to rest and relax, even if he did need to get back out into the field shortly.

After dinner, he helped clear the table and wash the dishes, then threw on his long coat. On his way out the door, he felt a tug at his coat. Looking down, he saw Cindy staring up at him with sorrowful eyes. "Are you going back to work?"

Kneeling down to look her in the eye, he nodded solemnly. Her eyes grew big and began filling with tears. "But...you promised that if I did all my homework, the next time you came home you'd watch cartoons with me after dinner!"

Did I promise her that? Damn...I think I did. Curse this Mnemonic Enhancer! I can't pretend like I didn't, cause I can remember I did. Blast! Aw...poor kid. I haven't been home for two weeks, and Grandma did mention that she's been very diligent, doing her homework as soon as she gets home every night in case I'm home, so I'll watch cartoons with her. Aw heck...work can wait till tomorrow, if it'll make her happy.

Smiling at her, he gave her a hug and said gently, "OK sweetie, you're right. I promised. And a promise is a promise. I didn't remember, I'm sorry."

Squeezing him tightly, she brushed away her tears and smiled. "That's ok Vincent."

Calling out from the family room, Grandma yelled, "Cindy-ah! Your TV is on!"

"OK Grandma!" Turning to Vincent, she said, "Go sit down! I need to get Dunkie!" Running back to her room as Dragon removed his coat and plopped himself on the couch, she returned a moment later, dutifully dragging a giant-sized 'Dunkie the Dragon' stuffed ani...er, dragon that Dragon had gotten for her a few years back.

Turning on the TV, she happily changed the channel to some random cartoon he'd never seen before. Snuggling up against him and cuddling Dunkie in her arms, Cindy proceeded to glue her eyes on the latest adventures of "Elsa the Elf Princess".

What on earth did she need me for here again? Yeesh. 'Elsa the Elf Princess'? What next, 'Timmy the Toxic Spirit'? Heh heh heh. Let's see them sell that one! Oh well, it makes her happy, and well, sitting at home watching cartoons with my little sister? It could be way worse than that. I could have people lying to me, shooting at me, double-crossing me...in short, I could be working. Oh well, tomorrow's another day...

And they sat on the couch and watched Elsa in her magical adventures together, letting the rest of the evening pass in peace, and quiet.

1600 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie had a good feeling about today. He accomplished many things and made it through with his sanity intacted.

He decides to order some dinner and goes to find Sara to see if she wants to make it for two.

2330 January 5 2063, just outside the doss, coming home after a long day followed by a short shopping haul and a seemingly much longer target practice at Teaser Rat's

Anne didn't have to look up to know that the choppers had completely encircled her. "You're late with your payments," said one of the elves, a mocking edge of false gentleness playing in his voice.

She threw the credchip she'd received from Teresa at him, everything from her fingers to her shoulders twinging in protest at the movement. "Take it, you robbers."

Another elf snagged it easily out of the air. "This'll do," he said. "For now ..."

She picked up the bags she'd dropped and climbed the narrow staircase and put her key in the lock ... and then turned back: "Wait --"

1945 January 5 2063- Dragon's Home

Well, most of the evening anyway. It was against Dragon's nature ever to turn off his cellphone, to take himself completely out of touch. This time, perhaps for the first time ever, he found himself regretting that part of necessity. Was that, perhaps, part of that "normality" that he always found himself looking at from the outside?

Susan came over to him, her sensitive hearing having picked up the soft vibrations. "Should I take her out?" she asked quietly, indicating Cindy where she lay curled against Dragon, still clutching her Dunkie though she was half-asleep. Not are you going to answer. She knew the nature of what he was as well as he did.

"No need," Dragon said just as quietly, carefully disentangling himself from the younger girl against her sleepy protests. "I'll take it in my room." Susan nodded and sat herself down in his place, balancing the room's Matrix terminal on her knee. The scholarship remained contingent on her final examination results, Dragon remembered. Not that he could see her slipping up in any way at this point. In her too, their parents' work ethic and sense of duty had become her own.

He sighed, and left, and flipped open the cellphone. "Dragon."

Somehow he'd known, even before he opened the connection and seen the familiar Latina features, that Sybersnake would be on the other end. At least he'd not have to worry about "good news"/"bad news" games. Sybersnake knew him too well for that -- and didn't disappoint this time. "Something local's come up, small, but it might bring in a few k's, and I heard you were in town and free ...?"

Dragon closed his eyes, closed out the blinking message light that told him he'd almost certainly have to deal with the Johnson's message next. Word travelled fast. Too fast, maybe, to do his reputation any good. And Sybersnake, being who she was, couldn't do other than tease him a little about it. "I might be."

"It's just a small thing," she repeated, studying her nails, "but it might need someone of your special talents."

Indeed? "Well, we can always talk about it. Here and now, or do you have a place in mind?" And if it's really "just a small thing", I might be able to work some easy nuyen around Virgil's crusade after all -- although somehow whenever someone mentions my special talents I sort of doubt it.

"Tommy Wong's, of course." Her expression seemed to say, where else? "Sometime tomorrow morning?" And then she had to add, "if you've got nothing else scheduled --"

"I'm free at 1100," growled Dragon. On occasion, Sybersnake had a very irritating habit of pushing it just that bit too far. Although, Dragon had to admit to himself, "too far" wasn't very far at all, today.

"And bring along that chummer of yours, Virgil, too. That should be enough ... well, maybe one more person, if you can think of someone who's a good muckraker."

On that enigmatic note the cellphone clicked off. Surprisingly short, for Sybersnake. From someone else, it might have seemed business as usual: there weren't all that many in the biz who'd see the point of wasting words on amenities such as "goodbye". But coming from Sybersnake, the exchange seemed uncharacteristically curt. Come to think of it, the decker hadn't shared all that much over the phone at all ... over a pair of cell frequencies she'd set up herself. And she'd suggested maybe adding an -- no, another -- information person?

Dragon closed his eyes. Certainly she was doing him a favour, giving him a piece of something that just might begin to repair his rep -- but this favour was beginning to feel as though it had two edges. Maybe he should have expected it, the way the rest of the day had been going: but why did he have the sudden sinking feeling that this wasn't going to be such a small thing after all?

1600 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Sara seems startled to see Andie. "What are you -- who's watching -- oh!" She steps quickly past him and into the small room at the back to check the various crucibles and Bunsen burners and amend a small piece of chalked diagram where Andie's passage had blurred it.

With a small sigh of relief she turns back to him. "What's the first rule of enchanting?"

"Never, ever leave anything unwatched unless it's something you can seal, and then only after you seal it first," he recited dutifully and accurately. After a moment, as he made the practical connection: "oh."

"You were very fortunate this time," she said.

"But it's never doing anything, not really," he protested. "It's just simmering and cooking down. It's not like it's about to explode or something."

"Or something," she echoes, in quiet disbelief. Then she registers the sheer exhausted boredom on her student's features. "We'll talk about this later. For now, go, take a break, get something to eat. I'll close down up front and watch this for a couple of hours. Go on, get out of here."

2332 January 5 2063, just outside the doss after a long day

Maybe one of the bikers heard her. The rest followed in a pack until once again they had encircled her, revving their engines at unpredictable intervals. It was, she supposed, to be an exercise in intimidation. "Well?" asked the biker at last, and Alleycat found herself almost smiling as she confirmed the voice of the one who had spoken first.

"I know we talked about this before," Alleycat began carefully. "Suppose I were to tell you that maybe now I could afford to buy that dart pistol you mentioned?"

"Suppose I told you you were too late, elf girl," he said levelly, his voice carrying neatly over the revving of the bikes and carrying all kinds of mocking overtones. "Maybe someone already snapped it up."

"I'd say there was always another where that one came from," she returned just as levelly, not taking her gaze from the place on the biker's helmet where his eyes should be, allowing her own voice to carry an echo of his own inflections. "I'd say it should come with ten clips, seven Narcoject, three G-S."

"Gamma-scopolamine?" The biker snorted. "Are you nuts?"

"Not if I'm talking to the right person." She allowed the smile to show slightly. "I think you're the right person, Corrin 'Talker'."

A prolonged few moments of mutual testing. Then, abruptly, "Talker" laughed. "You sure do have a way about you, missy," he drawled, letting the accent exaggerate itself. "If I were to get my hands on such a thing, the price might be ... considerable."

"Two thousand now --" She left it trailing, and he picked it up and named a figure that might have made another blanch, but to which Alleycat just nodded. Never mind that she didn't actually have the money yet. She would.

Past time to pay a visit to Black Tony.

"Oh, one more thing," she said without raising her voice, letting her words stand in the air until the revving seemed to die of its own accord to allow them to be heard. "I'll be looking for a basic workshop," she said into the new silence. "Chem and biochem. A kit will do for now, but medium-term I'll be looking for a facility. Materials and equipment is good, with its own place is better."

Talker let out a low whistle. "You're sure asking a lot for a person who didn't have two nuyen to her name a month ago."

"Yes," said Alleycat as she released the smile, showing the teeth.

2335 January 5 2063, Anne's doss

After the bikers had left, Anne picked up the bags she'd dropped and climbed the narrow staircase and put her key in the lock -- and fell over the same low table. She'd have to move it -- no, right now, before it was overlooked again amid all the other things she was trying to do.

A soft sigh. At least she'd remembered earlier to ask Grail to copy and erase Teresa's cellphone number out of the chip. For a moment, she was so completely exhausted that she couldn't for the life of her see why that would be a good idea. Rest, too, is a weapon ... but she'd gotten a couple of hours the night before before she'd dived into the Matrix and set the knowbots loose, and for now she could soykaf it. And she could always sleep on the way south, if she had to. She certainly wasn't planning on driving it. (Note to self: remember to ask Blaze how he planned to deal with any wards in the place, if he went astral. She couldn't see it likely that they'd carpet the entire camp, but if it was indeed an extraction rather than a rescue, where the boy was being held very well could be warded.)

First, soykaf. She set it dripping while she moved over to the hanging bag of rice and emptied out the cockroach trap at the top. Maybe she'd get a proper cleaning drone next: let it deal with the insects.

Next she emptied out her bags. Basic purchases, all legit, all against her "Anne" SIN. First came the neat, little wrist computer with its built-in scanner she'd bought with the SIN into whose identity she'd grown. ("Buy everything legit using the new SIN," echoed Hobbes' voice in her memory. "The government likes to see identifiable income and outgo.") Very light on memory for now, not even pocket secretary weight, but with tonnes of memory space which could be added later. A basic set of proper weights followed, and then a paper carton of some unidentifiable ethnic takeout that was neither a stew nor a stir-fry nor involved rice or noodles in any way, shape or form. A bunch of optical storage chips: she'd be using some of those tonight. A few articles of clothing, all used, that almost doubled her existing wardrobe: those she dumped into the dry-washer and started up the cycle. Finally came a small permanent printer/embosser which she hadn't bought with the Anne SIN (or even in the Anne persona, she'd blackened her hair, worn something baggy and dirty and the darkest sunglasses she could find) but with cash freed up from the advance, along with a couple of rolls of slightly heavier paper which would accept and hold the dimples well without leaving any visible sign of their existence and while still allowing overprinting.

Alleycat smiled to herself. In a cyber-savvy world, it was so often the simplest "codes" which were the first forgotten. When the kit arrived, she'd be ready.

She set the printer/embosser beside the apartment's Matrix unit without hooking it up; then jacked in to see what information the open-access Matrix and Shadowland knowbots had left for her.

1035 January 5 2063, Blaze's doss

A long shower after the night's late escapades was in order. Quite a varied group of people, although no straight muscle. Grabbing a small cup of soykaf Blaze begins cleaning himself and picks out a nice suit of cloathing, and promptly coveres it with his trademark red coat, and grabs his Shades. Picking up the phone he gives Max a call.

This call needed to be made a long time ago. "Hey Max, It's me, Blaze, I have quite a few things I need to talk to you about, but I'd prefer to do it in person today. How about we meet at Caveman Kate's at about 3 today?"

After his brief call to Max Blaze calls up Squall. As the call goes through the standard serries of routings and reroutings Blaze can't help but let his mind wander. How am I going to save Melissa. I can't even effectively save myself from self pitty, how can I protect her. I will do something, All of this run's money is going into paying for a search team to find her, and I can lead an extraction run. But where's she going to stay...

His private meanderings are interupted as Squall picks up the line."What is it Blaze?" It always creeped Blaze out as to how he did that, but he's one of the best, and that's why Blaze works with him. "Hey Squall, I have something I'd like you to do for me, if its ok. I don't need a Matrix search persay, but I'd like you to keep your eyes on Shadowland for a magical group of Leopard Shaman." Squall's response iscurt and short, just like always "Done". Blaze can then hear the click of the phone hanging up.

Picking up the phone once more Blaze calls up the last person on his short list of contacts, George. Not a mage persay George is one of the best talismongers Blaze knows. It's his focus around Blaze's neck, and carved to reflect their shared tradition as well. "Hello, George? this is Blaze."
"Hey Blaze what's up?"
"I need a favor from you."
"Sure what is it?"
"I'm looking for a group, preferably of a similar belief to me. I'm working towards improving my connection with Leopard."
"Sure I can try to find that group for you, I'm not sure how long it may take, but it should be doable."
"Thanks, I'll come by the shop and help out as soon as I get a chance, and I may even have a little extra to spend this time."

1830 January 5, 2063 - Virgil's Shop

"Drek that's sore," Virgil groaned as he rubbed a particulary discolored bruise on his left shoulder. With the adrenaline pumping over the last few hours, I forgot about how much mana I slung.

Making is way over to his freezer Virgil could feel the combined effects of the days summoning and spellcasting, not to mention the beating he'd taken attempting to dispatch that rouge fire-elemental. It's all coming back to me now. . that's certain.

The frosty air billowing out of the freezer enticed Virgil to stand there for a moment and bask in the icy refreshment. Grabbing a gel-pack and a frozen sausge pizza Virgil stepped across the tiny kitchenette to toss the pizza in the oven and set a timer. Sure isn't Chicago deep-dish, but I think I'm hungry enough to even consider eating a soy-burger now.

While his pizza was toasting away Virgil picked up his cell-phone and punched out the number for Inleat's office. He'll be at home now for sure, but I need to get rolling on things. After a minute of fruitless ringing Virgil was treated (or subjected to) the squeaky voice of Inleat's message system.

"Inleat this is Virgil. I have some things to discuss with you and was hoping you'd let me treat you to afternoon tea tommorow. I can be reached at this number. Good evening."

That being done Virgil still saw 15 mintues remaining on the pizza timer. Seizing the oppurtnity he stepped into the shop's tiny bathroom and turned on the shower. As he waited for the bathroom to fill with steam Virgil swallowed two advil from his medicine cabinet while examining himself in the mirror. You don't look too bad for wear chum, couple nasty bruises, but a good night's sleep will heal most of the damage.

Stepping under the hot flow of water Virgil did his best to massage the bruised areas of his body, better to keep the blood flowing now than to wake up stiffer than a 90-year old man in the morning. As he let the steaming water of the shower relax his muscles Virgil thought about the impending conflicts. If him and Dragon were to achieve any measure of success it would be absolutely vital that they stay ahead on the information game.

I can run through a myriad number of parties whose interests conflict with ours, but that list means nothing if I can't support it with actual intel. Contacting Inleat was the first step. Virgil and the elven mage had shared a mutally beneficial relationship over the past 2 years . . . no reason not to continue the meeting of the minds.

1600 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

"Actually, I came in to see if you wanted anything to eat and making a food run", Andie says to Sara with a dazzling smile. "An Enchanter can only go as far as his stomach."

After taking Sara's order Andie leaves the shop and goes to the corner stuff shack for food and returns with groceries. He prepares and warms the food for the both of them and takes a tray of food to Sara; placing it outside the ritual circle she is working on. <i>She can eat when she is ready.</i>

<i>Phew!! I stink. Need a shower before I contaminate the shop.</i> He then goes to the back of the shop into the bathroom and takes a shower to get cleaned up.

He will then use the computer terminal to look for real estate property listings for a new magic store. <i>I'm going to need a place to lease or buy by the time the new equipment arrives for the shop. I better ask Sara for advice on the best locations without too much competition.</i>

1710 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

When Andie returns, he finds Sara has finished that part of the inscriptions and sealed them. Seeing him, she gives him a warm smile and waves him over. "We can both watch it from here. Can you feel the mana flow? I always like the feel of a work going well."

Andie considers. He can assence the small trickle of mana being channelled through him and now a bit through Sara as well, but he wouldn't go so far as to say that he feels anything, not in the way she's talking about. Really, he's always been much more comfortable with things that could clearly be reduced to formulae and processes. Whenever Sara starts talking about "feels" and such he -- well, he doesn't see the point. A ritual's a ritual, isn't it?

He picks up his own supper. "I was going to ask you about a place, where I could open my own magic shop without getting into too much competition. I was about to go through the real estate listings."

Sara laughs. "Oh, my Andie, always so focused. Well, there's no place you're not going to get some competition, but I'd just as soon it wasn't me!" She takes a large forkful of noodles and chews them thoughtfully before continuing. "I know Stringbean is thinking of retiring -- that's Jeremiah to you -- but he'll want standard business transfer costs to sell his business. You know, the full value of the equipment and place, plus estimated profits for the next ten years?" Seeing Andie's face fall, she shakes her head a little. "I'm sorry. You'd be paying for the security and the having been established of the place, and that's just how it works, you know? Unless you've got a small fortune, you'd probably be best off trying what you were originally working on, building something up yourself."

"Well, I was going to ask you about locations ..." he begins tentatively.

"How should I know?" Sara asks, but her tone holds no sting. "I'm not an expert in places. I can guide you in how to research each one out, that's all. Well, that, and I can tell you that if it's ultra-cheap, you're probably getting exactly what you paid for. Oh," she adds, almost as an afterthought, "no matter where you settle on, there's some ... unofficial ... business that always goes on in the area. Always check out who runs an area ... unofficially, you know? And if you're getting different answers, get the hell out of there but fast, because that place is about to become a battlezone." Her eyes are very tired at that moment. "Trust me, Andie," she says at last, and the tiredness and a shadow of loss echoes in her voice, "it's not worth the fight."

And then she smiles brightly again: "Thank you for taking the shower!" With a grin she adds, "It's appreciated!"

1900 January 5, 2063 - Virgil's Shop

"The SPD and SFD are still investigating the cause of a deadly 3-alarm fire that broke out at an Auburn night club earlier this afternoon. No official statement has been made but the fire marshall will make a statment for the 2100 news. More on this disaster as we hear it . . . "

Hmm, so that place was a nightclub. Strange how legwork begins by turning on the news. Virgil leans back in his chair staring at the remnants of his frozen pizza. I wonder how much information the SFD and lonestar will turn up, or rather what will be released to the public. Surely they will uncover the elemental nature of the conflargation, but it will most likely be reported as criminal arson. Luckily for Virgil he had managed to rescue what might be a valuable witness to the crime.
The women him and Dragon had pulled from the rubble hadn't been very wounded after that Doc Wagon mage had gotten through with his healing magic, she'd probably be in talking condition by tommorow morning. Juliette and Galina were excellent care-givers. I'd better swing by there first thing tommorow and see if the lady is willing to share her story.

Virgil's mental inventory was interuppted by the sudden beeping of his cell phone. Taking the call Virgil was greeted with the scratchy yet full voice of Inleat Fairfire coming over the line.

"Well Virgil my friend, I haven't heard from you in several months. Things are well I trust?"

Virgil had come into contact with Inleat while tracking the blood-mage target down in Aztlan. During the course of his reconiscence Virgil discovered that the Draco Foundation had placed a bounty on blood-mages and his attempts to contact the foundation had yielded Inleat, a researcher from the foundtation's group on magical threats. Inleat arranged for a bounty to be paid out and the ensuing success of the mission made Inleat look very successful in the eyes of his superiors. Since then they kept the lines of communication open with Virgil being the "eyes in the trenches" for Inleat.

"It has been too long Inleat, that is why I called you. We have some catching up to do and perhaps an investment to discuss. I thought that I could treat you to a drink at the Fox and Hound tommorow at 1500."

"Always straight to the point you are Virgil. I can make that date just fine. I'll look foward to hearing about this . . . investment oppurtunity."

Hanging up the phone Virgil put his feet up onto the kitchen table and leaned his chain onto its back legs. No matter how this situation plays out, we will never be able to track Julia or protect her without funding . . .now perhaps it is time for just a bit of luck to slide the pieces into place.

2100 January 5 2063- Pike Place Farmer’s Market

Dragon glanced around, casually taking in the environment. He had selected the place because it was open and there were a variety of stores and places that could be used as meeting places, if necessary. It was time to get down to biz, and since he didn’t know the other party all that well, it was best to be in a place that would give him options, if push came to shove. He didn’t think he’d need to worry about that though. The person he was meeting would definitely not want this to be made public.

What was with Selina tonight? She sounded really tense. I don’t know why she’d be upset, or whatever it was that she was. And why wouldn’t she tell me? We’ve known each other too long and too well not to be more honest about stuff. And why Tommy Wong’s? She knows I owe her dinner. In a suit. Maybe she doesn’t want to collect when there’s company around. That’s probably it. I wonder if it has anything to do with Christina…

Upon further reflection, he concluded that that was probably it. Ever since he’d started seeing her, things with Sybersnake had been a bit difficult. His past and his present called to him through her, but at the same time, wouldn’t that be an admission that things would never be different? That he’d be trapped in this life forever. Christina represented possibility…namely, the possibility that things could be different.

That was probably why Sybersnake couldn’t resist digging at him a little, reminding him that people like them would always live like this. Whether they wanted to or not, they were who they were, and nothing would ever change that. Or was that so certain? Could Christina be the one to change all that?

If she still accepts you after she finds out the truth he reflected grimly. Chiding himself for thinking about personal biz while there was real biz at hand, he suddenly remembered that he had to call Virgil . A quick call revealed that he wasn’t in, or at least not picking up, but it didn’t matter.

“ Virgil , it’s me. 1100 tomorrow morning, Tommy Wong’s . I got something that might turn up some spare cred for us. And I might be bringing someone with me to help us out. See you then.”

“Talking about me?” The sultry voice came from behind him, designed to impress him, he knew. He wasn’t. He had heard her coming while she was a ways away, and made sure she only heard the tail end of the conversation. She posed no threat. She needed him as much as he needed her. Probably more, if what Global had told him was true.

Without turning, he replied, “Maybe. You’re late.” Casually, he turned towards her and quickly took her in at a glance. At 5’10, she was taller than him by about 3 inches, and although she might not immediately seem it, was probably nearly as strong, if not stronger, than him.
A dark brunette with professional-length and styled short hair, mid-dark olive skin, large dark brown eyes in the almond shape, and dressed in a tight fitting black business suit that showed off her well-toned and attractive figure, she was quite a sight. She had the body of someone who worked out regularly, and her extremely attractive features were a testament to the work she’d had done on her.

He probably could have figured all this out on his own, just by checking her out, but since he had that file from Global , why put in the extra effort? Giving him a winning smile, she replied, “Guilty as charged. Haven’t you ever heard of being fashionably late?” Extending a well-manicured hand to him, she offered, “ Tiffany. ”

Shaking her hand, she seemed a bit surprised that he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by her unusually strong, firm grip. “ Dragon .” Gesturing, he indicated that she should follow him along a prearranged route that he’d already determined would allow him to spot any potential tails, as well as give them plenty of opportunities to hold their conversation in a bit more private locale, if they so desired.

She frowned a bit at his abruptness, but quickly covered it up. Probably isn’t used to someone being so abrupt with her. Well I know I’m supposed to be working on that, but on the other hand, while she’s off balance, that makes it better for me. And this is my area, after all.

Without any preamble, he said, “I’m looking for someone who is good in the information biz. Knows how to work the streets, the corps, the nets. Someone who is good at digging up information and putting it to use. Someone who maybe doesn’t mind taking a few risks and getting their hands a little dirty. Someone who’s got the skills to run in the gray areas between the shadows and the light. I hear you might be that someone. Are you?”

Giving him a sly look, Tiffany replied, “You don’t dance around, do you?” Grinning at her mirthlessly, Dragon replied, “I prefer cutting right to the chase. You’ve got things I want, and I’ve got stuff you want, so let’s just start dealing.”

A bit miffed, she replied coolly, “Let’s say that I am that person. What would you be offering in return?” Dragon nodded. Although she already knew the answer, it was expected that there would be a restatement of matters. “You want real stories. You want to chase down real leads. Those kind of stories bring heat, and you’ll need protection. You need access to the ‘shadier’ side of the story, and you want someone watching your back while you’re there too. And of course,” he grinned again, this time a bit more friendly, “an exclusive.”

That got a small smile out of her, but without breaking stride, she added, “And what makes me believe you’re that person? You think muscle isn’t a dime a dozen? Last time I checked, it might not be that cheap, but you seem to think we would be equals in this partnership.”

“Are you trying to say we wouldn’t be?”

“Well let’s be honest, I think you need me a lot more than I need you. I mean, I can go get any number of muscleguys from any number of fixers, but how many reporters can you find who’d be willing to work with you?”

Again, a predatory smile. “Oh you could find a lot of muscle guys, I’m sure. But professionals? Doubtful. For your purposes? Even more doubtful. You’re still legit, and you don’t want that to change. Guys who wouldn’t be tempted to maybe just tap some of that fine stuff you’ve got in that suit, or maybe sell you into slavery, or just flat out mug you? They cost sweetheart, and frankly, for your purposes, I’m one of the best you could ask for.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Think a bit highly of yourself, don’t you? You think they could get away with that? You think people wouldn’t…” He cut her off. “People wouldn’t care. And they wouldn’t notice. You’re small time, and you know it. Anchor at Noon? For the Seattle Spy? Give me a break. A lousy slot on a second-class network. That’s why you’re taking this shot. Because you want to break into the big time, and you need help to do it. That’s why you’re here, yes or no.”

Glaring at him furiously, she seethed, “I asked for a professional. I was mistaken to think I got one. Whatever else you may or may not be, you clearly have no understanding of social skills, or etiquette, or any proper way of dealing with people. I don’t care how good you think you are, I will not be treated like this.” Whirling around, she stomped off.

Calling after her, loudly enough for her to hear him clearly but not so loud that anyone would notice, he said, “Treated like what? An ork?” She froze immediately, stopping dead in her tracks. “Touched a nerve there, didn’t I?”

Well, here’s where we see if this whole ploy was worth jack and if I actually read into her file correctly. Unless I miss my guess, she’ll be on her way over here to kick, or at least try to kick, my hoop right…about…now. Storming back to him with violence in her eyes, she suddenly lashed out with a right hook that probably would have rocked him. If he’d been there when it connected. Easily he stepped back out of her range, and when she came across with her left, caught her arm easily. She was strong, about as strong as him, but he had more experience and he held her fast.

“You’re good. That’s what I’ve heard. I had you checked out. Impressive, at least when they give you a chance to be. Honesty? You want honesty? You’ll always be second rate and third fiddle to whoever they have up there. Who is it now? Some ditzy elf chick? And an old White Anglo Saxon Protestant? Babe, you are fine, as good-looking an ork as I’ve ever seen, and probably one of the best-looking girls I’ve seen period, but they don’t care. You’ll always be ‘the ork’ to them, and no matter how good you look, you ain’t ever gonna crack the prime time, because they ain’t gonna give you the chance to. I want to help you change that. And I mean that. That’s why your boy sent you to me.”

Still breathing heavily, she jerked her arm free. “They said you’re the kind of guy who’s good to have at your back. Solid rep, up and down, never any complaints about you. They say you’ve seen action all over the world, you know your stuff, and you aren’t just dumb muscle. Good at scanning things, people, getting a feel for the action. You got skills that your average razorguy doesn’t, you’ve got talent and you know how to use it. But frankly, you’re confusing the hell out of me.”

Tossing her hair back, she continued to rail, “I come expecting that kind of guy, a pro, and instead, you just come here to push my buttons. What the frag is your deal?”

Laughing, he shot back, “Now you’re getting it. Girl, this ain’t no business deal. And this isn’t some negotiating session where we sit down all nice like and try to come to a ‘mutually beneficial arrangement’ or some drek like that. This is a relationship in the making, and I wanted to know if you’re worth my time. My rep is there for a reason. I have been around the globe. Seen action on pretty much every damn continent not named Antarctica, and I’m here in Seattle to make moves, not putz around like some newbie. I need someone who can help me gather quality information in a hurry, but more than that, I need a chummer that I trust at least enough to work with, if not to actively look out for my best interests.”

Cocking his head slightly, he gives her a curious look. “You get it yet? I’m checking you out. Plenty of fools would think they could use me, sell me out when it’s convenient, and that would force me to take some drastic, and messy actions, not to mention waste time I don’t have. You’re honest, I like that. Lost your cool, sure. But I was pushing your buttons. I want to know if there’s really a person underneath that reporter exterior you got going, or if you’re just another soulless sellout who’s looking to get her at everyone else’s expense.”

Calming down slightly, she replied sarcastically, “You don’t think everyone’s out to get theirs? You trying to tell me you’re different? Special? What are you, some kind of hero?”

Shaking his head, Dragon replied, “I’m no hero. And yeah, I’m out to get mine for me and mine, just like you. But I want to know, are you the kind of person who has more to their life than that? You’re an ork, you grew up with everyone gunning for you in your profession. That’s the way it is, not even figuring the drek you got just for being an ork. That’s why I decided to meet with you, decided to give you a shot. Plenty of reporters would take this offer, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to work with them.”

Looking up at her, holding her gaze with his eyes, he said simply, but gently, “I meant what I said. This isn’t about biz, plain and simple. It’s about a relationship. That’s how these things work when I play them.” Shrugging, Dragon said, “I know what you’re thinking. You’re cynical, and you don’t buy it. True or false?”

Shrugging, it was obvious she wasn’t entirely sure, and was buying time to think. “Should I believe you? What makes me think I should? Like you said, this is the shadows, and what makes me so sure you’re any different than everyone else out here?”

Still looking in her eyes, he replied, “That’s for you to decide. I took this approach because I wanted to get past the bulldrek. Yeah, we could work just on a purely professional level, and don’t get me wrong, I’ve done it before and I’m down with it. But the people you work best with are those you at least sort of care about on a personal level, those you look out for because you want to, and they do the same for you. In the long run, it’s better for all parties involved in pretty much every way, and it gives us a chance to develop something more than just an untrusting relationship based on the almighty nuyen.”

He had her attention now. Running with it for all he was worth, he continued, “You want to be someone, someone more than just 'the ork'. You want the shot they won’t give you. You want nothing more than the chance you’ve earned, that you’re denied just for you who are. I want to help give you that chance, but I want to know if you’d want to help me too. Not because of money, or what’s in it for you, but just because. I can’t really explain it more than that, to be honest. Loyalty, friendship, obligations, duty…those are things that you either get, or you don’t. I’ve worked with plenty who don’t, and that’s all it was, work. But those who I really work with on a continuing basis? They get it, at least to some degree.”

Silence. He saw in her eyes that he had touched a nerve, and if nothing else, was really listening to him now.

Dragon took a deep breath, and finished, “So I guess when you get right down to it, that’s the real question, isn’t it? Do you get it, or don’t you? And do you want to make this a relationship that’s actually worth our time, or a purely symbiotic one? If it’s the former, then I respect that, and I wish you luck, but since I’m looking for a long-term thing here, I’d say that concludes our biz. If it’s the latter…”

He left it hanging for a moment, then concluded, “Then maybe we’ve got something to talk about after all.”

In the silence that followed, he examined her closely, watching and waiting for her response.

Only two more questions. Is she interested, or not? And is she going to play it straight with me, or not? Given what I could dig up on her, I figured this might catch her off guard and give me the best chance at actually building a worthwhile relationship with her. Now’s where we find out if I’m right or not…

2115 January 5 2063- Pike Place Farmer’s Market

The digital clock behind where Tiffany was standing ticked over. Fifteen minutes had already passed. Only fifteen minutes had passed. Dragon wasn't at all sure whether he'd expected more time to have gone by, or less. So much had passed between the two of them, so quickly.

"Maybe we do," Tiffany said at last. Her tone was trained, level. It said nothing about the trapped look in her eyes.

Still breathing heavily, she added, "Your information's old. The ditzy elf chick's gone. She left years ago, got some kind of contract where she still sends back the odd fluff piece from wherever she is and we buy it. Kind of like a Seattle's Eye on the World kind of thing. That's why the Matrix site's not been properly updated yet. It's Rachel now who's got the seat. Daughter of one of the directors or some such crap; spends more money than God and charges it to the department. She used to be weathergirl."

And now Dragon recognised how ruthlessly the woman was suppressing the small spark of hope. Hope makes you vulnerable. Hope allows you to be hurt.

... Hope allows you to live.

2115 January 5 2063- Pike Place Farmer’s Market

Nodding in response to her correction, Dragon clarified, “Long, curly black hair, necklines that plunge, mage. That’s her, right?”

Practically spitting the words out, Tiffany answered, “Yeah that’s her.” She paused a second, realizing that maybe he knew more about Rachel than he had previously let on. Looking at him quizzically, she asked, “Wait a minute, you know more about her than I would’ve thought. If you know that, why didn’t you mention her sooner? Why mention the ditzy elf chick?”

Smiling a bit sheepishly, Dragon shrugged and said, “Well…I figured you’d get more worked up about losing out to a ditzy blond elf than this girl. At least this girl’s a mage, even if her illusions are moronic. But that’s still better than the elf, who couldn’t string together an intelligent thought if they handed it to her. But hey, if I had known about her spending, being the daughter of a director, and all that, I probably would’ve used her first.”

Mouth hanging slightly open, it looked like Tiffany didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him. In the end, she settled for a little of both. Laughing slightly, she launched a playful swipe at his head, which he ducked in mock fright. The tension lifted slightly, but Dragon could still see the trapped look in her eyes, the ruthless suppression of hope.

Stay away from the shallow, the casual. Got her thinking, want to keep that up. As she shivered slightly in the chill winter air, he asked, “Cold?” She looked like she wanted to respond affirmatively, but her pride wouldn’t let her. Checking out her clothing bit more, it was obvious she wasn’t dressed for the weather. Wearing a fashionable long trench coat, it looked great on her, and was probably very stylish for reporting on camera, but it was designed for someone used to waiting with a cup of hot coffee in her hands, near a nice warm camera van, if she was even out and about at all.

Despite her shaking her head negatively, he took off his coat and over her protests, placed the warm parka over her shoulders. She shivered slightly as he did, and he teased her gently, “I thought you weren’t cold.” She gave him an odd look, and turned away from him, using her body to push him away in the process. Silently, she began walking towards the various shops and restaurants that lined the arcade, and he fell in step next to her, waiting for her to break the silence.

After what was probably only a few minutes but felt like an eternity, Tiffany asked him, “Why did you do that?” Uncertain what exactly the ‘that’ was, Dragon asked in response, “’That’ could refer to a lot of things. What exactly are you referring to?”

Looking at him again oddly, she asked, “Why did you do this?” Lifting the parka up slightly, she made it clear she was referring to his offer of the coat. Uncertain how to respond, Dragon hesitantly answered, “Because it was obvious that you were cold.”

Snorting, she answered, “Why do you care? No one else does…” Carefully, he prompted her, “What do you mean? I smell a story.” Sniffing at the air brought a laugh from Tiffany that while somewhere between a sniffle and an angry snort of derision, was nonetheless genuine.

Slowly, almost like she was talking about it for the first time, like she couldn’t believe she was actually sharing, she replied, “Once, maybe a couple years back, Juliana , that’s the ditzy blond elf, and myself were out doing a story on something. It was something big, I can’t even remember exactly what, can you believe it? Anyway, we were out, and it was really cold, just like today.”

At that moment, a gust of chill air shot through the market, as if to say ‘Yes, it was this cold. Don’t you forget.’ Increasing her pace, Tiffany shivered again, and continued, “Everyone was falling all over themselves to get her coffee, a comfortable seat in the van, their coats…whatever she wanted, or even could remotely want. It was like I wasn’t even there.” She shook her head softly. “They just couldn’t wait to do something that might get them her attention, or her favor, or some drek like that. I was freezing, and no one even bothered to offer me a coffee, even though they had gotten some for the crew. It was like I didn’t count, or something.”

She lowered her head for a moment, and when she raised it, even though she was looking ahead resolutely, pointedly not looking at Dragon , he could still see the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. Blinking furiously to cover it up, Tiffany continued, “When Juliana left, and Rachel moved up to anchorwoman, it was the same thing. Even though I’d been there longer, was more experienced, was just flat out a better reporter…it didn’t matter. She was a director’s daughter, she flaunted her body, and even though it’s not like there’s a huge difference in our looks, she’s…” she stopped, and lowered her head, unable to continue.

Softly, he finished her sentence for her. “Human.” Snapping her head up to stare at him fiercely, the tears staring to slowly slide down her cheeks, she snapped, “So why are you talking to me like this? There, you’ve gotten me to crack, gotten me to talk about myself. I never told anyone, never let anyone see how much it hurt me. How much it cut to not only be ignored as a reporter, but as a person. Why? Because I’m an ork?” She laughed, but it was full of scorn and bitterness. “Even the head anchor, Jim, doesn’t seem to know, or care, that I’m an ork. I don’t matter to anyone else. Why should I believe that I matter to a complete stranger? Give me a reason. Go ahead. Give me a reason why I should believe that you even come close to genuinely caring.”

The tears flowed freely now, and she stopped walking to lean against a wall, shoulders slumped, head bowed as she gave in to the emotions, so long ruthlessly suppressed, now beginning to fight their way to the surface. Without looking up, she whispered, “Are you happy now? I cracked. OK? You got to see what you wanted, right? You pushed my buttons and I cracked. You got what you wanted. Just leave me alone.” Spent and overwhelmed by the emotions that were engulfing her, she slowly began sinking to the ground, heedless of the damage it might do to her suit.

Silently, Dragon catches her hand, and pulls her to her feet. Although she is far from accepting, she doesn’t resist as he stops her fall. Pulling her carefully into her arms, he holds her tight as she continues sobbing, shaking in his arms. Whispering softly, he says, “That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want to make you crack, and I didn’t want to see you cry. I can’t give you proof you can believe me. I can’t prove that you can trust me. That’s a decision you have to make for yourself. But I could see it in your eyes…you want hope. You need hope. Because you don’t have any. Yeah, not hoping means you can’t be hurt, don’t leave yourself vulnerable…but not hoping is a pretty damn lonely way to live. And all I wanted was to give you a choice, to trust me or not. I wanted to give you a chance, if nothing else, to hope for something. What you do with that choice, that chance, is up to you.”

Angrily trying to push him away, she cried, “Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me I have a choice, or a chance! I don’t want either of them, and I don’t want your pity! I don’t want you feeling sorry for me! I just want you to leave me alone!” Holding her close despite her struggles, he stroked her hair gently and whispered, “Shh…shh…it’s ok…it’s ok…everything’s going to be ok. Things are going to be ok.”

Flailing at him with her arms, she yells, “I don’t want things to be ok! They aren’t going to be ok! They’re never ok! And they never will be!” Soaking up the blows, taking it in stride, he pulls her close and holds her tight until her rage is spent. Gradually, she calms down, taking deep breaths as she regains control of herself. Gasping for air, she begins to relax in Dragon’s arms as he softly soothes her.

After what is probably only a few minutes but feels like a lifetime, Tiffany takes a deep breath and whispers, “I don’t know why I let you see me like this. And I sure as hell don’t know why I should trust you or even give you a chance. But I’m going to. If nothing else, at least you tried.” Kissing him softly on the cheek, she whispers in his ear, “Thank you for caring.”

Then she disentangles herself from his arms, and looks him in the eye. In her familiar, professional tone of voice, she says harshly, “And damn you to hell if you’ve been lying to me.”

Smiling at her, Dragon answered, half joking and half serious, “Well, now that we understand each other and we’ve got such a solid basis for a good, healthy, long-term relationship, why don’t we get something to eat and have a much more enjoyable conversation?” Extending his arm to her chivalrously, he says, “Shall we go?”

Laughing, this time with real feeling behind it, Tiffany took his arm and smiled, adding flirtatiously, but sincerely, “Lead the way.”

For the next few hours, they passed the night in pleasant conversation, getting to know each other as people, as co-workers, as companions, and maybe even, as friends. The sun came up much too early, and when it did, there was still much to be built in their relationship. But it was a start.

1050 January 6 2063- Tommy Wong’s

The next day, Dragon picked up Virgil and Tiffany , who despite the turbulent and emotional evening she’d had, showed no signs of being the worse for wear. She was exactly what she needed to be: calm, cool, and composed.

Well it’s good to know she recovers fast. I have no doubt she was being sincere yesterday, but it’s nice to know that despite her lowering her guard with me, she knows when it’s time to get down to biz.

After the requisite introductions between the mage and the reporter, they headed to the meet in relative small talk. Again, she proved quite adept at making conversation, even in a short car ride. Arriving at Tommy Wong’s a few minutes early, Dragon told the two of them to wait inside at a table. However, what he didn’t them was that it was because he wanted to speak to Sybersnake before the meet.

What was up last night? I don’t like going into this just with biz. If there’s an issue, I want to deal with it, or at least know about it beforehand. Hopefully she’ll clue me in.

Waiting outside, hands in his pockets to keep himself warm, paid off a few minutes later, as the sexy, classy Latina walked up to him and asked with a flirtatious smile, “You do know the meet’s inside, right?”

Smiling back, he said, “Yeah, but I wanted to see you first, before we got down to biz.”

She circled him slowly, teasingly, as she inquired, “Oh really? And why is that? Get a sneak preview of what I look like today or something?”

Looking down at her, he answered, “Well, I did want to set a time and place for that dinner date I owe you.” She smiled again, but the smile quickly faded as he continued, “And I wanted to ask you what was up with last night. Is everything ok? You sounded…tense.”

Glancing inside at Virgil and Tiffany , she said, “I see you brought a crew with you, and one of them’s quite a looker.” Looking directly at him, she added, “And I don’t mean the mage. You got another bit of fun I don’t know about Vincent ?”

With a pained expression, Dragon answered, “Look, Selina , I just met her last night…” She cut him off. “Last night? My you move fast, don’t you?” Brushing past him, she tried to enter the restaurant, but he caught her arm and held it fast. “Listen, the relationship between her and I is purely professional. Yeah, we got to know each other last night, but not in that way, ok?”

She yanked her arm free, and this time he let her. “Look, I know things between you and I are…complicated right now, but we’ll get that squared away. I just…” Again she interrupted, “When? When are we going to get it squared away? How about, when you accept who and what you are, or you decide to cut and run from yourself and chase a dream, an illusion, because that’s what it is Vincent , an illusion. She doesn’t even really know you? How can you even think a life with her would work? Why aren’t I good enough for you? Why isn’t this life good enough for you?”

“ Selina… ” He stopped, uncertain of how to continue, but she surprised him, this time stepping into him and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Holding him close, she whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry baby. I know this isn’t easy for you. This discussion isn’t going to conclude itself in five minutes, so we should really get down to business. We’ll talk about it more later, when you take me out to dinner.” She leaned back and smiled at him. “In a suit.”

With a mock grimace of pain, he smiled back, “You got it. Thanks…” He let the words trail off, and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, releasing her grip in the process, and then asked, “Ready to work now?”

Mind more at ease, able to at least set aside the tension between him and Sybersnake until they could handle it more appropriately later, Dragon gave a cynical little smile that he often gave just before getting down to business and replied, “Yes…yes I am.”

And they turned and entered the restaurant, together.

1100 January 6 2063- Tommy Wong’s

Well, concluded Dragon, a bit ironically, after having watched Sybersnake and Tiffany sizing each other up, at least they aren't letting it get in the way of the biz.

Then he recognised how very much worse it could have been, and let it go.

"Well," he began, "you called, and we're here." He nodded to Sybersnake, but before he could add anything else the reporter said, "I'll be the one you don't know. I'm --"

"Tiffany, from the indie Seattle Spy," interrupted Sybersnake. "I've seen you on the air. You're good. Too good to settle for anchor."

Tiffany shrugged. "Do I get to know who you all are?"

Why not. "Dragon," said Dragon, and with his opening the others introduced themselves in turn by their streetnames. A slight, cynical smile quirked at the corner of the reporter's mouth. She knows that she knows now just as about much as she did before, Dragon realised. "Now that we've got that out of the way," he added with his own smile -- he tried to make it a bit warmer -- "what's up?"

The Latina stared at her nails. "Virgil, I trust. Tiffany, how much did Dragon tell you about all this?"

She was stalling, no question of it now. But again it was Tiffany who stepped in: "Probably about as much as you told him. Which, I'm gathering, wasn't a whole fraggin' lot. If it's shadow I get it, you don't have to worry about me springing anything you don't want sprung. But you planning to spill anytime soon or keep staring at your nails all morning?"

A moment of interesting silence followed.

Then, without looking up but without really looking at anything, Sybersnake said quietly, "I need your help." She took a deep breath, let it out. "Without it, my rep's not all that will end up fragged."

1103 January 6 2063- Tommy Wong’s

Dragon's initial apprehension was processed...and he wasn't at all sure what the end result was. On the one hand, relief, and on the other, trepidation.

Well, Tiffany is as good as Global said she'd be. She's obviously got her head screwed on straight, her game face on, and she's ready to roll. I must admit, she's quite impressive. If I hadn't thrown her off her game right from the get go last night, things could've been a lot different. Still, gotta remember that it's a consistent effort. Cracking her once does no good if I don't keep building the relationship.

A quick side glance at Virgil, who responds with a nod, confirms that he's got Dragon's back on this.

No surprises there. Hell, what else is there to face we haven't stared down before? Same old same old. Although if it gets really hairy, we might need to call in Daedalus. Wonder how he's been? I wish that moron would freaking get off his lazy hoop and get in the game, so to speak.

"Go ahead Syber. Give us the details. Virgil and I have your back again, and Tiffany..." He looks over at Tiffany, who interjects, "Tiffany's in this for her own reasons, but," she looks Dragon in the eye, "Dragon and I have an...understanding, and you can trust me to take this play as far as he does."

I wish I could just hold her hand and tell her that everything's going to be ok. Not just this...but everything. God, why can't I get my own drek settled in my head? Since when did I start having to worry about relationships for God's sake, let alone a fragging love triangle...And then there's still that biz that I gotta take care of for Combat Inc....Holy frag is it only the 6th? Not even a week yet? It's going to be a busy fragging year. Happy New Year chummer...yeesh.

Nodding affirmatively at Tiffany, he looks back at Sybersnake and says, "Right. We've got an arrangement. You can trust her to back your play on this. She's with me, and by extension, us. So she's cool."

Dragon leans back in his chair and crosses his arms as Virgil silently pours them all a round of tea, all the while thinking, OK...tension so thick I could cut it with a knife here...and the sad part is, I don't think it even has to do with the whole 'life or death' situation Sybersnake's laying on us here. The staredown between Tiffany and Syber...not to mention the obvious tension with Dragon and Syber over what was her name? Christy? Kristen? Something like that. That moron. How the hell does he get himself into these things? Sheesh. And he complains about me dragging his hoop into saving the world? Hell I probably save him from himself by keeping him too busy to keep digging holes for himself.

Breaking Virgil's train of thought was Dragon saying gently, "Now that we're all clear who's on whose side here, maybe you better lay it on us girl."

Taking a deep breath and continuing to stare at her nails for just a few seconds longer, Sybersnake finally looks up at them and says, "OK then. Here's the deal..."

1103 January 6, 2063 - Tommy Wongs

Dragon did always have a weakness for a pretty face, but this is fraggin crazy. I know that we really need the type of connections that Tiffany can provide us, but the mission does not need an extra dimension of personal complexity . . .or two as the case seems to be.

While pouring the tea Virgil takes a moment to size up the cold war being fought between the two women. He was very content to play the silent mage-type right now, as far as missions involving both him and Dragon were concerned Virgil played the role of tactician and Dragon was always the man on the spot with execution.

At least the initial maneuvers are proceeding as expected. Dragon has cultivated a source of information who displays a firm degree of professionalism, I have a meeting with Inleat later today, and perhaps this buisness with Sybersnake will turn into an auxillary source of funding for the long campain ahead.

Smiling politely at both women Virgil places the now empty tea pot at the edge of the table, lid open, and settles back with his cup awaiting the words of Sybersnake.

0219 January 5, 2063 - univercity district

Durin steps off the bus thinking about his new run. I'll have to place some calls saying I'll be out of town, might be able to learn a smuggling route down there.

His thoughts stray as his eyes follow a passing college girl, She's got nice...tracks of land.

Entering his appartment Durin glances at his drafting table. "No, no, that's no good. An ancestrial axe need to look better than that, what if I give it two heads..."

Durin quickly loses himself in design work for the next few hours.

1106 January 6, 2063 - Tommy Wongs

"I got hacked."

Virgil abruptly realised that his own small teacup was filled to the point of almost overflowing. He set the teapot aside and sipped away the excess. Certainly he was rattled. For all her teasing ways, Sybersnake could certainly be counted among the best deckers around, and not only in Seattle. But when she was cornered, she had an unfortunate habit of lashing out ... at whoever happened to be near her. Thanks a lot, Dragon.

"Go on," said Dragon levelly.

She continued to study her nails. "I suppose I should have recognised the signs. The Johnson all but said he was from Ares, and the datachips all had Ares coding. Stripped away that front, and it was looking for a while like Humanis --"

It was perhaps unfortunate that Tiffany happened to be holding her teacup at that exact moment, but a replacement was quickly obtained, and the decker continued:

"But it wasn't. Would you believe Saedar-Krupp?"

"Odd combination," said Virgil -- silent mage-type, yes -- and the reporter laughed sharply: "Sounds like the dragon though! You're sure about it?"

The decker sighed. "At this point I'm not sure about anything anymore. That's why you're here." Tiffany's eyes narrowed, a few age-lines flirting with the corners, but she nodded.

"The job?" reminded Dragon.

"Track down and expose a lupine shapeshifter who'd crossed the border with two women a few months back and who'd been working in some mailroom ever since. Straightforward enough. After all I was given the location of the crossing, and he couldn't possibly have used a real SIN ..."

The reporter winced. "That's one fragging hell of a lot of back-checking."

"Not so much. Surprise, surprise: all the border-crossing information itself was non-existent ... but for one thing, I could immediately eliminate anyone above or below a certain age and all women. That cut out more people than you'd think. Then I tried to eliminate everyone I could independently identify as having worked there before the date of the crossing.

"That's where the drek really started hitting the fan."

0235 January 6 2063, Blaze's doss

Sitting in his favorite comfy chair, watching yet another rerun of "The B Team", a popular spinoff an old flatvid back in the 20th century, about a group of shadowrunner types taking on evil corporations, Blaze is startled when the phone rings. Who's that? Don't think anyone should be calling back so soon...

Picking up, he says curtly, "Hey." The voice on the other end replies easily, "Relax chum, it's me, George. Listen, I did a little preliminary searching, and I need you to narrow it down. What's the primary thing I'm searching for here? A group that shares your general beliefs and stuff, or a group of Leopard shamans. Cause just to tell ya, I don't think you're going to have much luck with the latter. The former will take a bit, but I got it eventually, give me time. The latter, you'd best hop a flight to Aztlan or something, cause you won't be finding it here."

Before Blaze can respond, an incoming call from Max comes in. "Hold on George, be right back."

"Hey Max."

"Hey kid. Got your message. 3 at Caveman Kate's later today is fine. See you then."

"Gotcha Max. Catch you later." Flipping back to George he gives it some thought, then replies, "All right, here's what I want you to do..."

0352 January 5, 2063 -- a dorm room at the University of Washington

Mmmhmm... Cheng stretched sensually, feeling the texture of the sheets against her body and basking in the post-coital endorphin glow. Beside her on the double bed, the toned frame of the young man she'd found sprawled carelessly in sleep, his hair spread out on the pillow around his head like a cinnamon halo. She smiled relaxedly down at his dozing profile, feeling the smooth play of muscles through her shoulders and arms. All the tensions that had been bound up there had melted away. That was precisely what I needed.

The bar had been a wash, but it was there that she'd heard about the post-winter break party that was going on up at one of the University's fraternity houses. Despite turning up so late in the evening, there were still more than a handful of people about, and she'd picked Sean from the milling crowd with little hesitation. He'd been more than agreeable, one thing had lead to another, and now she found herself sitting cross-legged atop his bed studying his features in repose.

With a regretful sigh, she slid off the sheets and began to dress, careful not to awaken him. He was a lovely young man, certainly enough, and possessed of charms that made him all the more appealing, and with a sensual appetite to rival hers... but nonetheless she knew that, for now, she dared not try to make this more than a night's pleasure in each other. With further intimacies would come questions, and entanglements, and commitment -- issues that, for the forseeable future, she couldn't risk.

Still... it wouldn't do to have him think she'd vanished into the night, never to be seen again. And he had been ... very enjoyable. She smiled contentedly down at him, fetched a stick of lipstick from her pocket, and swiftly wrote on the room's mirror.

Heya lover,

You were fantastic, and just
what I needed tonight. Let's
hook up again sometime.

Kate XOXOX
kjones@u.washington.edu

With that, and leaving a lipstick kiss on Sean's cheek, she slipped out the door and down towards the parking lot where her SUV waited. A quick switch of vehicles at the downtown lots, and then off to bed. Planning for the run can wait 'til sunrise.

1106 January 6, 2063 - Tommy Wongs

Sybersnake took a long sip of green tea, letting the heat of the liquid ease her throat, pausing for so long that Virgil found his attention drifting back again to the upcoming meet with Inleat. He knew why, of course: another complication, another favour for a contact that would help reinforce the basis for their interactions ... another potentially expensive complication: potentially extremely expensive, if Sybersnake's evaluation of her equipment situation was accurate. And Julia remained yet to find, and the unknown woman at the clinic to talk to, and the news on the fire to track down ... wait, maybe Dragon's thinking on bringing the reporter in on that too? She's in it for her own reasons, yes: but how much will those reasons end up costing us? When did I become the fiscally responsible one? I'm supposed to be the do-gooder. He's the mercenary!

"Of course, it was still looking like a straight-forward identity hunt, then," the decker finally continued. "First I narrowed the parameters by date and looking human and a couple of other things, they led me straight to this moonlighting old vato who was unknowingly muling BTLs along with his pizzas. No way that was my guy, so I backtracked. That led straight to a mariachi band." Sybersnake shuddered. "That's when the Johnson called to ask how it was going. I'd forgot to mention to you the job was time-sensitive. I told him I'd eliminated a few possibilities. He suggested another loose end might also need elimination."

Tiffany frowned. Virgil leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers laced: but then couldn't think of anything to say beyond "Ah," and so decided not to say it.

"Ah," said Dragon, prompting a small flash of smile and a Latin shrug from the decker: "Well, you know how these things work. So in the meantime I figure I might as well try to find the wolf, whichever way things end up going. Started again right from the beginning, this time. That landed me the Scribe's sponsored dragonboat team."

"Someone's got some real good trace code on you," observed the reporter, catching Virgil off guard -- but of course it would almost have to be, wouldn't it? Dragon just nodded slowly. Virgil suddenly wondered what his friend was thinking. His own face was something of an open book -- rarely really a problem, given that he'd dedicated his life to Tyr, who'd not been known himself for his ability to dissemble. But Dragon could sometimes make up for both of them in that regard. Chinese inscrutability. Look it up in the dictionary, and you'd see Dragon's picture there as he watched and listened and thought his own thoughts. They worked well as partners, in combat they completed each other's need with few signals and fewer words, but Virgil had been around Dragon long enough to recognise the small changes, the few visible signs such as the sudden explosion against Father Bremen earlier. It remained to be seen whether what lay beneath the surface would turn out to be a deeper layer of self-knowledge ... or a slowly smouldering fuse ...

"So there it is," said Sybersnake. "I've got nothing. I've got my deck, but right now ..."

"You can't trust it," finished the other woman. "You've got a copy of what paydata you've already run, of course."

"Yeah, I snagged the copy I made before I bolted through the window what with the smoke alarm going off. I got it here somewhere. Figured you'd want it."

"Fire?" asked Dragon.

The Latina shook her head. "False alarm. Lucked out really: if it hadn't been for that, I'd never have spotted the razorboys and magiker before they had me. As it was, I caught sight of them on the way out, beating feet from the sirens.

"So anyway: there it is." She spread her hands. "I get this done with you guys and turn it over to the Johnson, you can have my advance and anything else he owes me. I just want to get this over, everyone off my back and my deck cleaned out. Not a whole lot I'm asking, really, concrete suggestions mostly and whatever you can find out, Tiffany. It's still straightforward enough, more or less: I deliver, or I get the hell out of Dodge." She shrugged. "Probably need to go to Denver anyway if I'm ever to get my systems cleared."

Maybe everyone was thinking it, but Tiffany was the one to say it: "Chica, you have got yourself into one fragging hell of a mess."

1035 January 6 2063, Blaze's doss

"...I'd like a group that shares my general beliefs, if they're at least partly Leopards all the better, but that's not on top of the list. I'm hoping to further my connection with Leopard, but that can be done merely by furthering my connection with his cause, I hope. Thanks, I know you do some of the best work around. Oh yeah, I'm going to be out of town for a little while shortly, so if you can't get ahold of me just wait for me to call you back, I will when I get back."


Now to get ready for Caveman Kate's. Grabbing a few things to clean up with Blaze get's into the shower. I have to find some way to find Melissa, but right now I'm powerless to act. Hopefully this run will enable me to find her, and if not there is always the old fashioned way.

Steping out of the shower the light gleams across his wet skin, a silver glint on his chest recieves special attention.

0241 January 5, 2063 - Key to the Future

Avalanche closes the door to his shop, locks it, and starts heading up the
stairs eagerly. Once secure in his room, he jacks in with a smile of satisfaction.

After doing the normal anti-trace routines, he enters Shadowland, and is immedately greeted by a message telling him he has a new personal mail. Well, someone finally do their homework on me? Let's see... The mail pops up before his digital ice man's eyes.

0305 January 5, 2063 - Key to the Future

Well, aren't I the fragging moron. Avalanche shakes his head in disgust as he slots the chip that has contact info for at least some of the group members into the telecom. He gazes at the list thoughtfully. You know, I think I'll go out of the group for mundane firepower. Dice would be the best dwarf for the job here. I think I'll give him a call. Let's see, who else? With me and Dice, we'll have enough muscle for cover, I think. Best to get some magical muscle. Hope Blaze hasn't gone to sleep yet.

Avalanche dials Dice's number. A groggy voice cuts in, no visual. Naturally.

"Yeah? Y'got Dice."

"Heya chummer, it's Avalanche."

"Who?"

Avalanche sighs. There was only one way to get people to place him, and it got old. "The dwarf Albino decker. We pulled off a run together awhile back, remember?"

"Oh yeah, the one where that idiot mage almost got us all killed. Sorry, it's kinda early. Speakin of which, why the frag you callin now?"

"Rush job. Got an appointment tommorow...er...make that today at noon, and I need cover. 1k nuyen, all up front. We come under fire, I pay hazard fees. Shouldn't much hassle, just show up and look menacing. "

Dice barked a laugh. "How 'bout I just keep your hide in one piece? The menacing bit don't really work so much for us halfers, neh? Ok, ya got a deal. Just don't make a habit of callin' at this hour, scan me chummer? I'll let it go this once, but mornin's ain't my strong suit."

"They aren't mine either. Looooong nights are." Both dwarfs chuckle for a bit. "Anyways, glad to have you with me. The meet is at the Big Rhino, you know it?"

"Yeah, think so."

"Ok, meet me one block to the east at 11:30, and we'll inspect the place before we go in. Scan?"

"Loud an' clear. I'll see ya there, chum."

"Later, omae."

With a click, Avalanche ends the call, and starts dialing Blaze's number with his fingers crossed. Please be up, please be up, please be up...

0305 January 5, 2063 - the Doss's Bedroom

A very grogy Blaze bolts upright in his bed, the weaves of magic already forming in his mind.

Realizing it's just the phone he stumbles over to it in a sleepy haze.

"What is it you stupid frag! Its 3 in the Fragging morning!"

realizing who it is on the line Blaze catches himself before continuing his tirade.

"Sorry, Just was asleep, What do you need?"

0305 January 5, 2063 - Key to the Future

Avalanche winces at the angry shouting over the telecom. Well, not every shadowrunner likes it late....

"Sorry to bother you Blaze, but I just had a meet scheduled for tommorow at noon, concerning the job and I could use some magical cover. It's at 12 noon at the Big Rhino, a bar. Think you can make it?"

1710 January 7, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Andie continues to eat his dinner; making small talk with Sara. "Well, I was looking at a place downtown for the new shop. It seems to have everything I'm looking for in the real estate listing."

Andie eats more of his noodles and considers what Sara said. "Still, I would like to contact Jeriemiah and see what his asking price is for his business if he's interested in selling his shop. It will be interesting to compare the two places and costs. Would you mind calling him for me and putting in a good word, Sara??"

0306 January 5, 2063 - the Doss's Bedroom

Shaking his head to clear the sleep out of it Blaze responds in a somewhat calmer voice. "12 noon tomorrow, the Big Rhino. Yeah I should be able to make it. sorry about the shouting, thought it was some fragging telemarketer. I'll meet you there, oh, and do you mean astral backup, or just having someone to sling mojo at the meet?"

Man, I'm glad I realized who it was before I really lost my temper.

Big Rhino, 12 noon, tomorrow. Must remember to write that down.

"Anything else?"

1110 January 6, 2063 - Tommy Wongs

Leaning back and letting out a low whistle, Dragon said, “Well…first the Big A, now S-K? We sure don’t take the easy ones, that for sure, huh Sybersnake .”

Looking over at Tiffany he says, “Looks like you get some serious adventure the first time out. OK, anyone have any ideas? You really think that just finishing the job will get S-K off your back? Why wouldn’t they just finish you off as another loose end?”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he adds, “I do have one idea, but it might be a bit of a long shot. I’ll wait for any other ideas before I toss this one out. All right, so what have we got?”

0308 January 5, 2063 - Key to the Future

"I was thinking a bit of both, actually. A bit of astral recon around the area ahead of time, then come in with my friend and I for the actual meet. You will be the magical support, my friend will provide mundune support, and I'm meeting with the potential contact. Sound good?"

0308 January 5, 2063 - the Doss's Bedroom

"Sounds fine, I'll meet you outside the place at about 11:45."

with that Blaze hangs up and stumbles back to bed, grabbing a single scrap of paper and scribbling down "Big Rhino, noon, with Avalanch, check out first."

and promptly falls back to sleep just barely inside the bed.