16:24:38 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Near the Renraku Arcology

Ueda’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “That is indeed interesting my friend. I will tell you that Renzo was indeed operating on my authority, and I would be very curious as to who your source is regarding the ‘incident’ this afternoon. I have just received word that the operation was foiled, and if there was a leak that may have been the root cause of this failure, well, I will of course have to take steps.”

He pauses. “While I would never request that a man betray his loyalties, I will say that I would be very, very interested in any information you have regarding the incident, and any information you can give me would be greatly appreciated.” His eyes narrow speculatively as he awaits John’s reply.

12:11:28 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Carla smiles thinly. She almost looks pleased with Eyes’s response. Almost. “Redemption might not be too far off the mark James. Because that’s almost exactly what we’re asking you to do.”

The only response this draws from him is a coolly raised eyebrow. If nothing else in my ‘career’ as a ‘shadowrunner’, I’ve learned how to play it cooler, even when I’m really not. Not a bad skill to have. Eyes reflected musingly.

She had obviously hoped to prompt him into saying something, but when she saw that he wasn’t going to bite, she simply continued, “We’ve got a council member who’s been captured by Saito’s troops. They don’t realize who she is right now, but that could change at any moment, and we need to get her back before they start interrogating her. We want you to get her out of the concentration camp she’s being held at, or at the least, make sure Saito’s butchers don’t get anything useful out of her. You scan?”

12:13:51 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Just terrific. One of those classic spy movie situations: either extract the target or silence her. Eyes felt momentarily disgusted that the thought even occurred to him. It must be all this talk about being a 'shadowrunner;' now that sensationalistic trid drivel was messing with his head too.

Mouth twisting in what Eyes hoped looked like concern and not distaste, he asked, "So who is she? Anyone I know?" He had other questions lined up, like where and when and even how, but that was the place to start. He also wanted to ask if Carla's backers already had a team hired for the job; she and Stan seemed to give that impression, though he couldn't really pin down exactly how.

At once it hit him that this wasn't going to be a small, one-man job. Breaking into one of Saito's metahuman concentration camps--everyone in or from Calfree knew better than to call them anything else--and getting someone out was going to require at the least a team of specialists working on the problem. No way was he going to cover the bases all by himself; hell he didn't even know what all the bases were.

That meant working with real shadowrunners. People who killed other people on a whim or for a buck. People he'd have to persuade not to get all axe-murderer on innocent bystander- Eyes cut himself off abruptly. Now he was really getting himself caught up in sensationalistic drivel.

All the same, he began to worry.

16:26:02 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Near the Renraku Arcology

John bowed his head slightly. "I'm afraid that I can not reveal my source, Ueda-sama, and for that I humbly beg forgiveness. However, I can tell you that the account I was given was from a witness and is of a first-hand nature. For me to reveal any more would possibly place this person in an awkward and dangerous position. That said, I will pass on what little I was able to conclude from the information I received, if that pleases you?"

If this angered the Yakuza, he did not allow his feelings to show externally. At his small nod, John raised his head and continued. "My information leads me to believe that it was not a leak of information that kept this venture from reaching its ultimate goal. The target had simply prepared in advance by hiring armed guards. The guards were simply able to respond in kind and rapid fashion, enough so that they prevented the desired outcome and, I can assume, the elimination of your assets."

12:15:09 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Carla smiled, a distinctly predatory smile that made him wonder if worry wasn’t the right response here after all. “Her name is Janet Setsumi. I believe you’ve at least heard of her?”

You know damn well I’ve heard of her, Eyes couldn’t help thinking to himself. Janet was one of the most idealistic of the University Council, well known for her beliefs in pacifism and non-violent resistance, as well as student leadership and responsibility to speak out and participate in political and civic affairs.

The fact that she was a Japanese dwarf added great credence to her beliefs, not to mention the fire she had in espousing them and the steel she showed in living up to them. If she was removed from the council, it would be a severe blow to those who tried to maintain the University’s idealistic liberal student roots.

“So James, do you have any questions for us? I’m sure you do.” Again the predatory smile. Carla knows more than she’s telling. I wonder what she’s holding back. And almost as important, why…

16:27:59 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Near the Renraku Arcology

Ueda’s eyes show nothing as he listens to John’s story. When he is finished, he simply nods and says, “Thank you for informing me of these matters, Mr. Standard. Please, keep me apprised of any future information you may uncover regarding this incident. This conversation has been most enlightening.”

With that, he cuts the connection.

16:53:36 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Renraku Arcology - Renraku Mall – Food Court

The look of shock on Max’s face must have clued Robert into the fact that what he said registered somehow with Max.

“Is there something wrong Mr. Steiner? He inquired.

Mrs. Wong looked on concerned.

Max shook himself head a bit to help clear is head.

“Hideo Ashikawa is not unknown to me. In fact a Mr. Fan hired me yesterday for a private research team headed by Mr. Ashikawa. I had no idea he worked for the clinic.”

‘What the hell is going on. Did I get hired by the man responsible for kidnapping Keira and Nora?’

The Wong’s looked almost as confused as he felt.

“I don’t understand…” Mrs. Wong left her statement hanging.

“Neither do I Mrs. Wong, but I think it best that you do not tell him that I am looking for my friend. I will ask him myself when you can set up a chance for us to meet with Mr. Ashikawa and Mr. Kuwambe. We will try to get to the bottom of all of this together.”

Max was unsure what to say. The bizarre confluence of events that had brought him to this point had his head spinning. He stood up from the table and waited for the Wong’s to do the same, shaking their hands in turn.

“Mr. Wong, I will await your phone call and whatever information you can give me on your research concerning your daughter. Any information that you can give me on Hideo Ashikawa, and your research done for the clinic would be helpful as well.”

“Thank you Mr. Steiner and I hope you find your friend as well.” Marina says in way of a goodbye.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Steiner.”

“Your welcome.” Max replied before turning to leave. “I will do everything I can to keep your son and daughter safe.”

It had been a hour since he had arrived at the Renraku Archology, but it may as well have been an eternity. Max’s world had again been turned on end with the information the Wong’s had supplied him.

16:28:29 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Near the Renraku Arcology

John stared at the phone as the display went into stand-by mode. Mr. Standard? Looks like you fragged that up but good, chummer. Question is, did I frag it up bad enough to move Ueda from the 'friends' column over ta the fraggin' 'enemies' column? Only time will tell, but I'm guessin' that the next time I see a bunch of Japanese bullet-boys it'll be me they're shootin' at.

Snapping the phone closed, John pulled out his cigarettes and lit up. I'm also guessin' that I may not have ta wait that long. It won't take too fraggin' long for the Yaks to send someone over to the Garden to ask around. Can't be too many fraggers out there fittin' my description. I just hope Ueda remembers that I only called ta warn him.

As he replaced his smokes and settled his worn Detroit Tigers hat onto his head, the old runner noticed Twiggy staring. "What?"

The young elf shrugged. "Nuthin. I guess I'm just surprised you speak Jap. Nora always made it sound like you couldn't do nuthin' right."

John looked out the window. "She wasn't that far off, kid."

Silence descended on the van. The usually talkative ganger subdued by the older man's mood. For his part, John simply waited; waited and smoked. Hope Max finds out sumthin. I could fraggin' use some good news.

17:02:42 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Renraku Arcology

As Max turned his Westwind out of the Arcology parking garage and back onto the streets of Seattle, he dialed John’s cell. He picked up immediately.

“You ok?” His gruff voice answered.

“Yeah, everything went well, but I don’t want to talk yet. Drop the crew back off at the Respite and meet me at my place. Security will let you in.”

“You sure you want to meet at your place?”

“Yeah, I may need to grab some stuff for our meet anyway, so I will meet you there.”

“Ok.”

Max hung up as he turned onto the on-ramp towards Bellevue.

12:16:11 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes shrugged. "Or I could just leave," he replied in a helpful voice and the most insolent grin he could manage. That smug sort of 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' look had always irritated him more than it should. It meant he was being manipulated, and he hated that. Carla could hardly have done anything more to put his back up, which knowing her was probably what she was after.

All the same there were more important questions to ask than what her little secret was. Taking a breath, Eyes plunged on, this time pointedly ignoring Carla and talking to Stan instead. "So, that answers who, and presumably why. Now I need when, where, and how. In that order. When was she taken, and where was she taken from; where was she taken to, and how was she captured."

He glanced back at Carla, quirking an eyebrow. "Just trying to gauge how much time I can waste on this lovely conversation." he said, bringing back the insolent grin and taking a sip of water. If she wanted to act like a spiteful child, so could he.

17:39:52 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower

John leaned against the van Finn had loaned him, finishing one last cigarette before heading up to Max's luxurious home. In his other hand he held a lukewarm cup of soykaf from the Respite's kitchens. He'd went in with the kids when he dropped them off, grabbed a quick bite, and headed back out.

Megan hadn't wanted to be left behind and Twiggy just wanted another crack at Max's entertainment system, which had made leaving difficult. John had finally convinced/coerced them to stay by telling them that he may have found a paying gig for them that he needed to check out alone. The Johnson would only meet with him, or so he'd told the kids. They ate it up.

Taking a final drag, he flipped the smoking butt away and drained the last of the 'kaf. Dropping the cup into a nearby wastecan, John checked traffic and headed across the street and into the warm lobby. He quickly glanced around, (though he doubted that there would be any threat, old habits died hard) and walked over to the security desk.

After passing through security, and enduring a couple of withering looks from residents lounging around the fireplace, John stepped into an open express elevator and pressed '41.'

12:17:02 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Carla looks momentarily annoyed, but motions for Stan to answer. With a nervous glance at Carla, Stan stutters, “Uh, well, she was taken from her home several days ago. It looked like a forced entry. Then about two days ago, the University got a letter from the government stating that Janet was taken to The Redwood County Center for the Protection, Education, and Relocation of Metahumans, ‘for her own safety and protection from a growing wave of anti-metahuman action by various unsanctioned independent parties,’” he finished, complete with waving his fingers in the air for quote marks.

He pauses, “If I had to guess, I’d say it was Saito’s police thugs, but that might be a little too convenient of an explanation.”

“Anyway,” Carla interrupts snidely, “I assume you’ll be helping us, correct? When can you come down, oh excuse me, I mean, come back to California to start work on this?”

The waiter returns just then with their orders, setting the food down and politely inquiring if they need anything else, giving Eyes a natural pause to collect his thoughts before responding.

17:39:52 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower

The elevator doors opened silently for John. Max had been notified by security that he was on his way up and called out from the main living area.

“Over here.” He called, letting the street samurai know where he was located in the large apartment. “I know you don’t drink anymore, can I get you something else?” he said as John stuck his head out around the corner.

After grabbing a drink for John he motioned for him to take a seat on one of the brown leather couches in the living room. He sat down opposite the man and took a pull off of his beer before getting down to business.

“We are in one big fragging mess, John.” And proceeded to tell him all about his meet with Mr. Fan and Hideo Ashikawa as well as this meeting with the Wong’s and how everything seemed to be intertwined.

“Robert said he was going to send over his research and any information he had on the clinic and its staff. He is also going to set up a meet with Mr. Ashikawa. After which I will likely be taking a trip to CalFree to see about this “re-education camp” the Wong’s sent their daughter too. It would seem that this would be a great place to hide people the clinic didn’t want to have found, like Nora and Keira. What do you think?”

17:47:12 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

John took a sip from the bottle of 100% real fruit juice Max had given him, taking a moment to savor it before replying. "Depends on how bad they don't want 'em found, chummer. Bad enough and it ain't 'hid' it's 'geeked.'

"Speakin' of, I'm not sure it'd be a good idea for you to go to this fraggin' 're-education camp' either. I mean, you being...uh, who you are, who's to say you could even fraggin' get out? No matter who lets you in."

The older man holds up his hand as Max opens his mouth to reply. "Listen, I know you're a big boy, and I know you feel bad about the Wongs, but you can't just jump in without lookin' first. We need more data before anyone goes anywhere near that place.

"Mr. Wong told ya that this Ashikawa was director of the clinic, right? Did he tell you what they did there? I mean, what were they treatin' his daughter for anyway? Just bein' meta? I know the Japanese have a thing against metas, but c'mon. How do ya cure an elf of bein' an elf? Why the frag would ya wanna?"

"Besides, even if they didn't wanna geek Nora and Keira, my niece ain't a meta... unless a lot's fraggin' happened in the two weeks I was gone. Why take her to this camp? Maybe they're still somewhere in the 'plex?

"Findin' them is our first priority, right? That's why we need ta go to this meet at 20:30. My chummer is sendin' some shaman over ta see if they can help. If it works out, how long's this ritual take?"

17:59:12 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

"Oh, I fully intend to meet with the Shaman your friend is sending us and hopefully track both Nora and Keira."

Max wasn't going to argue, he was going to that camp regardless of what John thought, but there was no point in pressing the issue.

"Mr. Wong is going to send over his research as soon as possible. It may give us a clue as to what the clinic is up to. Maybe your decker friend can see if he can find any shipments to this "Center" in CalFree? I can call my friend at the news channel to look into any connection as well. As for treating a meta, I wouldn't be so sure. It is widely believed that it is a magically activated gene that causes UGE and SURGE. If that gene and its trigger could be successfully isolated, it is theoretically possible, though who knows what the reprocussions of suppressing the gene might be."

18:02:16 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Having finished updating one another, John and Max were about to leave when a knock on the front door was heard. “Mr. Maximillian Steiner, this is Detective Rick Morris of Lone Star. I’d like to speak with you for a moment sir.”

Checking the monitor that showed the hallway in front of his door, Max saw a man in a grey suit, flanked by two uniformed Lone Star officers standing directly outside.

18:02:51 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

John looks at Max and raises an eyebrow. He then motions towards the rest of the expansive home as if to say, "Where should I hide?"

18:03:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Max takes a quick step back away from the door and whispers to John.

"Stairway over the bar to the loft, behind the bookshelf is a door. Key is 091004. Grab my bag off the couch before you go."

Max gives John a 20 second head start before making his way to the door next to the elevator and letting the detective in.

"Good evening Detective...officers. I assume you have come to take my statement about the kidnapping of Keira McKay from The Respite Soup Kitchen in Touristville?"

12:17:50 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes tried to consider carefully before replying. He wasn't sure what was going on with Carla, but it could be as simple as her trying to be as abrasive as possible to push him away, to prove he really was the soulless traitor she'd assumed he was. If that was the case it was probably best to ignore her and--Aw, to hell with it. "'Come back'?" Eyes asked in a low, too-smooth voice, "James, well he would 'come back' immediately, but then he was always stupid that way. He was honest, forthright, cunning, naive, hard-working, dedicated, loyal--all those virtues you say you hold so high in regard, but only manage to use well enough to barely cover your gigantic ego.

"James would be stupid enough to leap into yet another holy crusade. He'd use himself up, bleed himself dry for you. Then one day he'll come within a hair of getting burned to a crisp, and he'll wake up and realize that he's being played, that he's just a cog in some big, holy liberating machine. And then he'll leave. After all, there are plenty of other great and noble causes that you can throw your life into, and at least they're more honest about sucking your life away in the bargain."

Eyes wanted to throw his head into his hands and scream. He had definitely not wanted to throw all that on Carla, to show that he really wasn't even in control of himself. Not that any of it wasn't already public knowledge; certainly whoever had sent Carla after him knew of the circumstances of his leaving. But now he'd just thrown professionalism out the window; he may as well press on and maybe get a little dignity in the process. "But you made it clear ten minutes ago:" he continued, even lower, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed, "you don't want James; you want a shadowrunner. Well that's fine; I can do that too, at least well enough for this.

"At this point, a shadowrunner would rub his fingers together--like this-" he slid his thumb against his fingers in that ages-old sign for a tip or a bribe, "-and ask you to name a number, half up front. And that number would be directly proportional to the quality of service you would receive."

The anger plain on his face, Eyes put as much contempt into the next sentences as he could, "So either stop playing with me, or think of a good, large number. The choice is, of course, yours, Ms. Johnson."

As abruptly as he could manage, he swapped his angry scowl to a placid smile, and turned back to Nervous Stan, who was no doubt quivering by now. He really needed to save face after that little outburst, and Stan was probably the best way to do just that. "Well Stan, have you tried consulting with the MPA about this? I heard they got all chummy with the University when Saito's goons moved in; you might at least get them to help pull a distraction or something. Storm the front gate while you slip someone out the back, that sort of thing?"

18:03:31 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

John nodded once and hurried back over to the couches, gathering Max's gear bag and his drink. After a quick scan to make sure he missed nothing, he then rushed over to the stairway and up, taking the steps two at a time. Well, this is fraggin' great. Too bad security wouldn't let me in with Max's roomsweeper. I'd feel a little better with a little firepower.

Reaching the top of the stairs, it took him a few seconds to find the catch on the bookshelf. Finally the concealed door swung wide to reveal another door, plain except for a maglock keypad and handle. Typing in Max's code, John opened the door to reveal a short hallway ending in yet another door.

Closing the doors quietly behind him, the old samurai advanced down the hallway. The other door opened to reveal a large balcony or rooftop garden area. There were several gothic gargoyles bordering the area and a orderly rock garden in the center. Without knowing if there was another exit, or even a way back into the hallway once he entered the garden, John decided that he would wait for Max in the hallway itself and closed the outside door.

18:04:19 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Nodding at Max as he opened the door, Detective Morris walked in, followed by the two officers. Max motioned for them to be seated, and the detective did so, seating himself on the couch.

Max observed the detective was pretty well dressed for a cop, and his aura radiated a calm, cool, collected, and thoughtful mindset. “Would you like anything to drink detective? Coffee perhaps?”

The detective nodded, and Max looked over at the two uniformed cops, who nodded gratefully as well. After he’d served them, Max sat down in his recliner and idly smoothed a stray wrinkle in his pants while waiting for them to speak.

Morris takes a sip of his coffee and smiles. “It’s good. The real deal, huh?” Max simply smiles back and nods. Setting his coffee down on the table, Morris leans forward, resting his arms on his legs, folds his hands and says, “Mr. Steiner, as you mentioned, we’d like to hear from you what happened regarding the abduction of Ms. Keira McKay from The Respite Soup Kitchen. What happened on the morning of Monday, January 8, at approximately 09:45:00?”

12:25:48 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Carla had remained silent throughout Eyes’s tirade, silently glaring at him throughout. Stan looked like he expected someone to flip the table over, pull a gun, and start shooting at any second, just like on the trid.

“Actually, Ms. Johnson would be me, and if you don’t mind James, before we move on to business I’d like to play with you for a while first.”

Eyes froze up at the sound of that breathy, vibrant voice, directly behind him and to his right. He knew that voice. He’d never forget that voice. He’d hoped he would. In fact, he thought he had. He hadn’t thought about it all year. Maybe even longer. Too bad it all just came rushing back to him.

Gracefully sitting herself down in the chair next to him, a tall, blonde bombshell in a white women’s corporate business suit smiled winningly at him. “Hello James. It’s been a long time.”

He wanted to say something casual, something smooth, like he was totally prepared for the unexpected, and this was only one more little occurrence in an otherwise packed day. Unfortunately, “Angela…” was about all he could spit out at the moment.

Angela Foster was a woman he’d never forget, no matter how hard he tried. She’d been the leader of his ‘cell’ back when he was a full time member of the University. A swimsuit model since she was in high school, she was charming, gorgeous, intelligent, educated, the whole nine yards. And went she went to college she became…a politically active student organizer? Who ever would have guessed?

Absolutely dedicated to the cause, she probably won over as many people with her looks as with her politics, but hey, whatever worked, right? Her and Eyes…James had become quite close during their time working together at the University. Like every other guy, he’d had a thing for Angela, and towards the end, couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he might have more of a chance than he thought.

Of course, that was all before the night at the warehouse, when everything went completely to crap and he cut and run. While he’d been able to put her out of his mind since, here she was again, almost springing from non-existence into his life once more. Technically speaking, nothing had happened between them, and technically speaking, it wasn’t like she was anything more than someone he’d known and worked with in the past. But still…

Jesus, Buddha, and Zeus! Just when you think you’ve got yourself all organized so that you know everyone who’s ever been in your life, people I’d forgotten about so well it’s like they never existed before now are crawling out of the woodwork. Where are they coming from? Yeesh, it’s like some giant all-powerful force is just creating them out of nowhere and dumping them in my life for some strange cosmic purpose I can’t hope to understand, like I’m only a small, insignificant cog in a giant machine that exists only to serve the twisted machinations of its sadistic operators who plot and scheme to make people’s lives miserable and…

Mentally smacking himself in the head to end the long, babbling run-on sentence racing through his mind, Eyes just sort of stared at Angela, uncertain of how to respond, but not wanting to sit there too long and look like an idiot…

08:30:55 Thursday 11 January 2063- Ivans Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS

Sometime during the night Ivan had nodded off. Sleeping as he was he was in a good position to defend himself if anyone came through the apartments one flimsy door. But that wasn't the Vory style, no they would send an Assassin to kill him from a distance, or blow up his apartment.

His frustrating thoughts led to nightmares in red and white.

The snow fell quietly in the Russian city. The white water had a way of making everything seem calm and serene. Ivan stood under an awning for what seemed like hours. He felt the cold and the discomfort but it seemed distant and surreal. All he could see were the pictures of his parents, and a little sister he never new.

He was responsible. Running out on the mob, joining the Army like it was some game, cowboys and Indians. Except now it was White and Red Russians. It hadn't taken much to find his old mob boss. He visited a local brothel on a regular basis. A habit he had had back when Ivan was his main guard. Now he had two, both humans, both operators. The rage fueled him. It fed his inner fire and kept him warm in the cold snow. His thermal optics picked up the man and his entourage as they exited the building.

Ivan’s legs seemed to move on there own as he started running. He shed his coat half way across the street. The guards opened up with there pistols, they had no effect. Tonight Ivan was a sasquach, unstoppable, immovable, his will bent on revenge. He stepped up on the hood of a car and used it to lunge at his targets. Massive meter long metal spurs extending as he leaped through the air.

Ivan awoke with a start. His spurs popping on reflex. He was up in an instant ready to rumble. But he was alone. He cleared the haze of his dream, or memory, whatever it was slowly faded.

The rumbling in his stomach grew, demanding tribute. He smiled, breakfast was his favorite meal.

I think a cow will do.

18:07:45 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

“Actually Detective Morris, the attack happened around 09:15:00. I had recently arrived at the soup kitchen and was talking with Keira and another worker at the kitchen when a group of men kicked in the front door and launched what I would assume was teargas canisters into the main dining area. I rushed Keira, Meline (the other worker) and her son into the kitchen hoping to get them to the roof, where I could them levitate them to an adjacent building. Unfortunately I took several rounds of some kind of gel projectile while climbing the ladder to the roof and was knocked unconcious. When I came too it was around 10:10:00-10:15:00, I checked the roof, but Keira was gone. Melina and her son informed me that Keira had been taken. I asked around a bit and found that the last place Keira had been was the Research for Practical Applications Clinic. She was apparently looking into a possible abduction of an aquaintance that may have been linked to the clinic.”

Max pauses to give the detective a moment to right anything down and ask questions. The fact that the detective had given him the wrong time of the attack was not lost on Max, but he wasn't sure if there was anything to make of it or not.

18:06:16 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Rooftop Access Hallway

Moving back into the hallway, John very carefully placed Max's duffle and the fruit juice bottle onto the floor, then moved back towards the interior door. Squatting there, he briefly considered opening the maglocked door so that he could better hear what the cops had to say. He quickly decided against it, not knowing how much noise he would make in doing so.

Instead, John leaned forward and placed his ear against the door and tried to quiet his breathing. If he couldn't hear what was going on, he could at least hope to hear the commotion if trouble started.

18:09:53 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

The detective scribbles notes down into his pocket secretary, then looks up. “An abduction you say? Would you please elaborate on that Mr. Steiner? And while you’re at it, what have you been doing with your time since the abduction took place?”

18:10:23 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

"I don't know much more than that really. Some of the street people that frequent the soup kitchen, told me a young girl had been taken after visiting the clinic. Keira went to ask them about it. The next day she disappeared. Odd don't you think?"

"As for what I have been doing, well I came back here for a while to rest and made a few phone calls to a few friends that new Keira to give them the news that she was missing. Some of my friends were worried that something might happen to me as well."

Max gave the detective a brief smile.

"They even wanted me to hire a bodyguard. I put in a few phone calls and even interviewed a couple of potential candidates, but I haven't really made a decision on that yet. Seems a bit paranoid to me, don't you think?"

"And of course I have also been helping to get The Respite up and running. Keira wouldn't want the work there to stop no matter what has happened to her."

Curiousity and concern prompted his next question.

"Do you have any leads yet Detective?"

18:11:01 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Detective Morris ignores the question, choosing instead to comment casually, “Bodyguard, eh? Was that the guy who was with you when you went to talk to Robert and Marina Wong under false pretenses this morning?”

18:11:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

'Oh hell!'

Max hoped him outward appearance didn't' show the shear panic that coursed through his body.

'Did they change their minds?!?'

"A simple misunderstanding I assure you. Have you spoken with the Wong's yet? If so, I do hope they have forgiven my intrusion."

18:11:38 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Again Detective Morris ignores the question. “Please answer the question Mr. Steiner. Whatever the Wongs did or did not say is not your concern right now. Your concern is answering the question I just asked you. What were you attempting to achieve this morning by approaching the Wongs under false pretenses?”

18:11:52 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Max knew his rights and this was not only ridiculous, but suspicious as hell.

"A personal matter between the Wong's and myself detective and it has nothing to do with your investigation into Keira McKay's disappearance. Now if the Wong's are not pressing charges then I will not be answering your question. If you have no other question's concerning Ms. McKay's disappearance then I believe we are done here."

Max tenses awaiting the detective's response.

18:11:11 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Rooftop Access Hallway

"Bodyguard, eh? Was that the guy who was with you when you went to talk to Robert and Marina Wong under false pretenses this morning?"

Aw, frag. This could get ugly, and fast.

Reaching up, John punched in the maglock code and prepared to open the door...

18:12:16 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

Detective Morris finishes his coffee and puts in on the coffee table, then rises to his feet. “You aren’t being charged with a crime Mr. Steiner, and since the Wongs’ are not pressing charges, whether you approached them under false pretenses or not is, as you say, none of my business.”

He looks Max in the eye and adds, “Still, from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m seeing a guy who might be getting just a little too involved in this case. I understand Ms. McKay is your friend, but a private citizen shouldn’t be trying to do police work, you scan?”

Smiling to ease the tension, he continues, “Don’t get me wrong, I understand your concern and worry. If I were in your position, I’d want to do the same thing. But leave this to the professionals, before you get hurt or get yourself into some real trouble, ok?”

Nodding to Max he raises his coffee cup. “Thanks for the coffee. We’ll be seeing you Mr. Steiner. If we have any further questions, we’ll let you know.”

Motioning to the two uniformed officers, the three of them make their exit, leaving Max breathing a huge sigh of relief the moment the door shuts behind them.

18:14:23 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

John watched from the top of the stairs as Max stared after the departing cops. "Well, that was pretty fraggin' exciting!"

The shaman had the good grace to give a little start, before looking up at the older man as he came down the stairs. "Did you hear?"

"Yeah, I came out and watched after he started in with the drek about the Wongs. Glad it went down like that. Trouble with the 'Star is always bad for bidness." He gave the elf a lopsided grin. "You did pretty good. Were ya nervous?"

12:28:20 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

This is the point in all the movies there the hero is suddenly drugged and wakes up chained up by his ankles in a darkened room. And, for a brief moment, Eyes didn't really see what was wrong with that. But then Angela had always had that effect on him; there was no one else on the planet whose presence could so easily shatter his brain.

In some distant corner of his mind he could tell he was being manipulated again, and expertly at that. It was to be expected; Angela always could play him like a harp, and he hardly even noticed most of the time. It was so like her to send Carla and Stan before her, to play their good-cop bad-cop routine to loosen him up before the kill. And he fell for it; boy did he fall for it.

Possible answers to her greeting swirled through his mind, each more impossible than the last. Well, go ahead and play; you'll have to do it without me though. Or Terrific Ms. Johnson; have your people call my people and we'll let them do lunch next time. Or Afternoon Angela, send anyone else to their fiery deaths lately? Maybe even Am I on This is Your Life[/i] or something?[/i] if he really wanted to sound stupid.

Truthfully he had no idea how to respond. Well, silence in itself is a response, and one that's already happening. May as well go for it. So he did. Keeping his face much more neutral than it ever was while looking at Carla, Eyes simply looked at Angela, letting the mere speaking of her name hang between them. He told himself the barrier between them, if there indeed was one, wasn't entirely his own making, and he wasn't going to be the one to start breaking it down, if that's where they were going with this.

He had to keep telling himself that, over and over, just to keep from sitting there and drinking in a face he had dreaded and dreamed of seeing again.

18:14:54 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

"Nervous...No. Scared to death would be more like it, but I figured if the Wong's wanted our help they wouldn't be pressing charges, so there wasn't much the detective could do. Thankfully I was right."

Taking another deep breath Max says, "Well, shall we go meet your friend's Shaman?"

18:15:20 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor - Max's Penthouse – Great Room

"Don't worry, chummer. I wouldn'ta let 'em take you nowhere.

"Let's give them flatfeet a few minutes to clear out, then go down one at a time. I doubt they'd follow us, but just in case, let's take seperate rides. Head towards Puyallup. I'll follow behind ya, make sure the 'Star hasn't given you a tail. When it's clear, I'll take the lead. Place is called Loveland Quinn's, just in case.

"We'll be real fraggin' early, but I need ta talk to my chummer Finn anyway. Maybe ya can get him started lookin' into these camps while we're at it, or get Iris to do it. Either way, it'll cost. I think I've called in all the favors I can, for now."

12:33:20 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The silence stretched on, minute by minute. Five whole minutes passed before anyone broke the silence. Eyes knew because the clock in his head told him so.

At last Angela smiled, a sad, sorrowful smile of reminiscence and shared experience he knew was designed to melt his heart. It worked.

No matter how hard he tried to keep a heart of ice, it melted like the dew before a warm summer sun rising on a new day. Reaching out, she softly let her fingertips brush his hand, and he would’ve sworn he saw sparks flying into the air. “James…” she breathed in that soft, husky voice.

“James, I know we have a lot to talk about. I want to talk about it with you. There’s a lot you don’t understand, a lot you need to know. I know it seems like we were just trying to manipulate you, but look at me.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice, that was for sure. His gaze had never left hers in the five minutes since he’d whispered her name. “We had to be sure that you still had some ties to the University. We had to make sure a part of you still believed, that you didn’t,” she stroked his hand lightly, running her fingertips along the back of his hand, “that you didn’t become a shadowrunner and abandon who you are inside.”

She lowered her eyes, and spoke so softly he had to strain to hear, “Please, talk to me,” she pleaded. “Don’t pretend like you’re a mercenary, because you’re not. And don’t let Carla get to you. Don’t act like you’re so jaded that it’s about the money and what’s in it for you, don’t try to convince us that it’s anything but the goodness of your heart that is why you’re here. I still believe…”

She trailed off, and turned away slightly from him, and he could just make out, “you are the man I remember…” He knew she did it on purpose. He knew she let him hear her. He knew that Angela was taking the opposite tack from Carla, drawing him in with honey as opposed to trying to drive him ahead with a stick. He knew she knew he still had feelings, emotional ties to her, and he knew she was using it for all it was worth.

But he also knew that Angela was a believer in the University and what it stood for. He knew she had fought and sacrificed and done everything she could to uphold the ideals the University believed in. The ideals that he had believed in, once. He also knew that she did care about him, at least as a friend, if not more. He knew she didn’t really send people to their deaths, because after all, she had been there too, that night. And most of all, he knew she was a genuinely good person…wasn’t she?

18:45:20 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Bellevue - On the road again.

"I think it would be best if it looked like I was staying in for the night. If the detective has anyone watching this apartment I would like them to think that I am following his directions. You go down first and take your van three blocks down. There is a stuffer shack on the corner. Run inside for some smokes or something and I will meet there."

John was giving him the strangest looks. "How are you going to get there without being seen?"

"I am going to conjure up some friends." Max replied.

Twenty minutes after the police departed, so did John with Max's gym bag and Max ascended the stairway to the roof of One Lincoln Tower.

Chanting softly he called to the spirits of the city for assistance and waited their response. The sent of exhaust carried on the wind and a distant honking of a car horn heralded the spirit of the city.

"I need you to conceal my presence for a time."

The astral smudge of the spirit looked like a small cloud of exhaust from a 18 wheeler noded ever so slightly again an agreeable honking sounded in the distance and the presence wrapped itself around the shaman isolating him from the sights of mundane eyes.

Wrapped in his concealing spirit, Max weaves an incantation to his spirit totem and shadowing wings seem to issue forth from his back as the granite skin of this totemic mask plays across his face. Max strides to the roofs edge and off into the night.

18:55:20 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Bellevue - Stuffer Shack

It took Max a minute or two to find a good place to touch back down to earth. Bellevue was still fairly busy this time of day and he didn't want to land on anyones head, so he remained levitating about ten feet or so in the air until he caught a break in the crowd. Max wove his way in and out of the crowd, being very careful when he neared the edge of the sidewalk or crossed the street. About ten minutes after he had dropped from the roof of One Lincoln Tower he was running across Bellevue way to the stuffer shack he had indicated to John. The van was parked outside and John was still inside at the register.

After making his purchase he walked towards the van while inconspicuously scanning the street for either lone star or Max. When he got close enough to hear Max quietly said,

"Open up the driver side door and then bend down and tie your shoe or something so I can get in."

He saw John tense when he first spoke, but the street sam had been around awakened before and when Max's voice registered with him, the tension easied from his body and he opened up the van door, then bent down to retrieve some phantom item that he pretended to drop.

Max hopped into the van and moved into the back to allow John to enter.

"Nice Trick." He said after closing the door.

"Yeah, I figure I'd let the spirit go after we get inside Quinn's."

"Good idea." John replied as he turned the van out of the small parking lot and onto the street.

11:30:55 Thursday 11 January 2063- Ivans Apartment, South Seattle, UCAS


*Crunch* Ivans big black combat boot sunk half a foot in the snow. His hot breath turned to steam as it entered the cold snowy air. The trip to Virus' dos had taken nearly twice what it would have in normal weather. But three accidents on Intercity 5 kept him waiting a long time in the cold snow.

He was parked across the street from her top floor apartment, he could see the big bay windows but couldn't see inside cause the sun reflected off it. He had brought his pistol with him and armor, and of course his spurs were always handy.

11:31:19 Thursday 11 January 2063- 18-41 Aberdeen Ave S. Renton, Seattle, UCAS

As Ivan sets the stand on the hog, carefully clearing out a spot so as to make sure that the cold snow didn’t damage the hot engine block. Straightening his hat and moving toward the building, he sees movement out the corner of his eyes: three humans, dressed in black leather jackets. One of them appears twitchy, either from some low-grade wiring or equally low-grade drugs.

“Hey Trog,” the one in the lead yells in a nasal voice, “Where did you steal that bike from?”

11:31:45 Thursday 11 January 2063- 18-41 Aberdeen Ave S. Renton, Seattle, UCAS


"Steal? No friend, Ivan no steal bike. It is nice Da?"

11:32:04 Thursday 11 January 2063- 18-41 Aberdeen Ave S. Renton, Seattle, UCAS

"Yeah, t-to nice for a dumb t-trog like you," the twitchy says, flanking out to his friends left. The other human flanked out to the right, both still a step behind the lead human as they stand about 5 meters from Ivan. Now that they're closer to him, he can see that they all look hyped up, the twitchy one more obviously than the other two.

"Tell you what, why don't you just give us that bike and we'll make sure it get's back to its proper owners. You can go back to whatever cave you came from, fragging trog," the nasal voiced one says in a condesending tone, pulling aside his jacket to reveal a long-bladed knife stuck in his belt.

19:49:04 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

Max faded into view as John cut the van's engine and opened the door. Stepping out into the cold air, he lit a smoke and took a deep drag, waiting while the shaman exited and came around the van to stand beside him. Waving a gloved hand to clear the air, Max motioned at the building. "Your friend Finn lives above the bar?"

"Yah, he owns the place. Runs the bar, does pretty well I figure. Also still does some shadowy drek on the side. Mainly data brokerage, but who knows what else. He may not be one o' the top fraggers in the 'trix anymore, but he can still sling a mean deck. Good for us, right?" Shutting the van's door, John turned and started for the entrance. "C'mon, let's get outta the cold."

As they walked into the bar, John nodded at the bouncer, a human he recognized but couldn't name. He'd hoped Biscuit would be here, but Finn usually saved the big orc for busy days since he charged more. It was odd for him to have been manning the door this past Sunday, but John had just figured that he was covering for someone else. Or maybe somethin' was goin' down that night that Finn figured needed some real muscle on hand?

Leading Max over to the bar, John sat on a stool and motioned for Melinda. Smiling, she quickly poured a cup of soykaf and placed it on the scarred bar in front of him. "Hey, Johnny. Who's your handsome friend?"

Nodding towards the pale shaman, John made the introductions. "This is Max. Max, this lovely young gal's Melinda."

"Pleasedtameetcha, Max. What'll it be?"

After she took his order and returned, John motioned her closer. "Your boss available, Mel?"

"Natch, chummer. Said to send ya right up. You know the way."

Nodding, John dropped a small tip onto the bar and led the way around to the storage area, through the narrow, box-filled room and up the stairs to Finn's doss. As they neared the door, both could hear the maglock disengage. "Guess he's waitin' on us, huh?"

Opening the door revealed a small living room, comfortably furnished though slightly cluttered. John motioned at the cables that snaked everywhere, "Watch yer step," then led Max down a short hallway and into Finn's office.

The decker stood as they entered, running a hand through his thinning red hair. "Welcome back, chummer."

"Hoi, Finn. Long time, nul scan." John flashed a lop-sided grin at his own "wit." Clapping the shaman on the shoulder, he led the elf further into the room. "This's Max. We're workin' together on the Clinic deal, so he's chill."

12:40:53 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

How thick is she going to pour it on? Faint, whiny objections poured through his head, but Eyes ignored them. As much as he wanted to stay detached, collected, in control, he knew it was a lost cause. Eyes knew that after Angela's emotional appeal he'd do anything she asked, give anything she needed from him, and count himself better for it. Honestly he had to admit that she had him the first time she spoke his name. It was one of the main reasons he'd left so quickly, and now it was the main reason he'd come back just as fast.

Eyes sighed audibly, bowing his head slightly in as sure a sign of surrender as he knew. Putting his hand lightly over Angela's, he looked back into Angela's eyes and softly replied, "Okay," letting that one word speak the volumes he wanted to put behind it. Game, set, match. After a short pause, "You beck, and I come. Such is the way of the world." He tried for a wry grin, but probably only succeeded in a watery and uncertain one.

After a moment he turned back to the rest of the table, keenly aware that his undoing was being closely watched. "I really did mean that part about the MPA, though," he said, quickly trying to change the subject before the whole room found out what it looked like for someone without tear ducts to cry, "If rumors are true about them collaborating with us then they could be a real help. And, not to be rude or anything, but if you're looking to me to be your rescue expert then you need all the help you can get."

19:55:19 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

Finn looks Max up and down for a moment, sizing him up. Then he shrugs and nods. “All right John, if you say so.” Handing him a sheet of paper with an address on it, he adds, “Before I forget, here’s the address for tomorrow night. You gotta be there at 23:45:00, and the courier will be leaving from here at 23:00:00, so be here by then, ok? Now, what do you need from me specifically before you meet up with this friend of yours? I got the back room set up already for ya, but is there anything you need me for before then?”

14:28:17 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Buses and Monorails and Trains, Oh My!

Just like that, she's established a new training structure -- and maybe things haven't changed so much after all; though of necessity her living standards have plummeted, she's still filling every single second of her waking day with multi-self-structured-tasking (for you work, therefore you exist, and don't look at anything else too closely). Between learning the two cities with Grifter and target practice and touching base with Blaze and updating the search and -- two actual classes this morning? add those to the memory-schedule -- and updating and correlating existing results of search and jumping on and off buses she's ridden to their terminal points at every hour of the day -- for in the "empty" in-between times that don't involve coding Alleycat's taken to learning the realities of the Seattle public transit system, trying to internalise an awareness of the small standard speed-ups and glitches that goes far beyond simply memorising all the schedules -- and another midnight session with Tarq that at one point had dislocated her shoulder, and -- some might expect some free time to be taken somewhere in there, but to Alleycat the concept of "free time" has always been just another form of work, for others to see her taking it and for her to learn the methods of taking it.

"Anne" takes "free time", settling down after the workout -- a bit stiffly, but it's only pain -- for a dedicated late night (early morning?) mobile drinking session, moving from pub to bar to Heisenbergian coffeehouse as each place closed, with a mixed group of engineering and computer science students who had been getting a particularly early start on Friday while urgently analysing GPA backdoors into the U-Dub submatrix. Seems they'd just discovered the snap quizzes of Hellacious Horovitz (PhD.Eng, Ms.). It's only after her sunrise ritual that Alleycat is able to wonder at all about the curiosity of putting so much more work into avoiding actual study: "Anne" notes it, tucks it in the back of her mind for later analysis -- but accepts and indeed somewhat partakes in the reality without question: and that too is work, of a sort.

Allows her not to think about the numerological hermetic conjuring ritual she'd scooped off MagickNet, the one using Jinasen fractal derivatives to create an open inviting spiral of a circle. "Elegant working application demonstrating the tight relationship between mathematics and magic," one glowing unsolicited review had offered, and another "unnecessary complication of something utterly straightforward," translated into even more direct (and biologically functional) Or'zet terms by yet a third anonymous reviewer. The structure was straightforward, if painstaking and perhaps unnecessarily time-consuming for a simple watcher conjuration. No matter: things take as long as it take. (She'd schooled her mind ages ago to temporarily borrow of the molasses that others seem to live in perpetually -- but for things such as this mind needs to be one with body and with will, there is no rushing them at their learning, and afterward there is no rushing what comes of itself.) She had the space for it now, with the newly-acquired garage. She'd followed every part of the procedure loyally that morning, just before her sunrise ... and she'd been rewarded with the emptiness that had followed every one of her attempts.

Alleycat wishes she hadn't half-expected it. It's starting to become a harsh effort, to step into each new approach with clarity and with absolute confidence that this time, it would work, because it should work after all: made so, and who could possibly dare to say differently? She just has to find the breakthrough: and then she'll be what she'd always been intended to be ... but the evidence keeps obstinately piling against her, and it's becoming harder and harder to hold onto that article of faith (and if you let it go, what would be left of you?)

Her sunrise had restored a part of the balance. A vigorous workout with the chain and other things besides (for here, there's finally space!) takes out some of the rest of the frustration -- not all of it, for here too she keeps being reminded of what she should be, and isn't. "It takes as long as it takes." She holds it in her mind like a mantra, working through patterns she knows in completion but has frustratingly to work through in isolated cels until her body once again finds the instant of union.

An hour later she finally drops it, knowing at least enough not to pursue past the point of personal safety; although as it is she's shuddering with physical exhaustion. It's a very basic shower this place has, more an emergency de-chemical wash than anything else, but she steps out of her soaked clothes and lets the icy water sluice down on her with relief and a pleasure-pain gasp at the initial shock of contact. In time a soft ting in her ear warns her of the upcoming class, and then she's into the jumpsuit and "Anne" and running.

No word yet from Corran "Talker" on the pharmaceutical opening she'd set out feelers for. She hadn't thought the market in Seattle had been that saturated? but then she'd paid her monthly dues and the small detail of her rent besides, and maybe the gang hadn't all that much interest in following up beyond what was expected? No matter: she'd follow it up -- maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, didn't matter all that much. No word from Hobbes' decker either, which was odder and potentially more serious. She'd find out what's up with that after the meeting at Z's, before heading to the Teaser's and then to meet up again with Grifter.

19:57:34 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

"There is something I would like you to do for me. I need someone to do a matrix search on a number of items. Would this be something you might be interested in?"

Finn looks towards the Shaman again.

"Well I guess that depends. What would I be looking up?"

"I need to know everything you can find on the Redwood County Center for the Protection, Education, and Relocation of Metahumans in CalFree, its director Dr. Michael Kuwambe and the director of the clinic John and I have been investigating, one Mr. Hideo Ashikawa. And How much do you think something like this would run?"

21:34:31 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Fall Inn, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Hmmm." Karma takes a moment to sip thoughtfully from her drink. "Yeah, that sounds suspicious. Did you piss the guy off or anything? Maybe it's the target of your last run setting you up. You'd be wise to go in to the meet with some backup."