06:40:41 Saturday January 13, 2063; Ludmilla's Workshop, Everett

Sascha laughed. "You're a funny one. See you in the morning."

Ludi stared at the psec in disbelief and anger as the call disconnected. Perhaps she could talk Zina into an earlier or later mass, but somehow she doubted it. The old woman would disagree simply to spite her.

Grabbing her things, she headed out the door and towards home.

22:36:39 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

John tried to hide his surprise when Blaze mentioned the camps. First the reservation under Ranger, and now this... Was someone watching him? Still, all the clues that he and Max had uncovered so far were pointed at these camps. Getting paid to do something that they were headed towards anyway seemed like a no-brainer.

As the other runner finished, John gave him a wry smile. "So five, maybe six runners to take on a fraggin' detachment of Saito's marines? Here's hopin' you fraggers've got one helluva plan cookin,' Blaze." Putting the smoke into his mouth, John reached across the table with his meat hand.

"I'm in."

22:06:24 Monday, 08 January 2063 – Domain, 810 Bishop St, Tacoma, UCAS

Vedic moves in the small herd of people, hidden by them from the eyes of the shooter back on the rail; unable to find any more targets or the one that alerted them to this entire situation, he reverts to a ready stance while his partner zip-ties their still conscious prisoner’s hands together.

Half pulling Lilith and half being pulled by her, they make their way unnoticed to the head of the stairs, cloaked by the crowd and the confusion of a panicked club.

22:37:21 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

Blaze nods once at Scrapheap and shakes his hand, smiling. "Welcome aboard then Scrapheap."

Turning to Samwell he asks the talkative rigger, "What about you? Are you in, or out?"

22:28:13 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Silverbird pauses in contemplation for a moment, then nods. "Very well then. Your logic is sound. Let us prepare ourselves for the ritual. I will begin setting up what I need and centering myself. In the meantime, focus your mind on the object of our search. Align the mana within you. See the aura of the person you are searching for in the links to them we possess, and burn that image into your mind."

06:42:50 Saturday January 13, 2063; Ludmilla's Workshop, Everett

After hearing the maglock engage, Ludmilla dragged her feet down the hallway and to the elevator. Her whole body still felt groggy and stiff from the night spent on the floor. Even her combat boots felt almost uncomfortable and too heavy to lift. She knew very well what awaited her at home: Zina. Whatever she did, however she came in or when, she’d have to face her aunt. And the old bat would probably be one hundred percent right about everything.

Ludi felt guilty. The anger that ran too often in her veins wasn’t there anymore. There was only guilt.

She stepped in the elevator, pressing the parking button with her thumb. Absent mindedly, the Russian woman watched the numbers count down.

Guilty. Guilty about almost killing a man for nothing. Guilty about not being there for her daughter. Guilty about putting Zina through so much every time she went out. Guilty about abandoning her family in Russia. Guilty about how she lived. Guilty about how she made money.

Guilty about killing that cop…. that kid.

Ludi walked over to where the Comet was parked, lighting herself a cigarette on the way.

Every time she had taken a life, she had done it either to survive or to protect other lives. Killing wasn’t something she was new to, and after the shock of her first real firefight, with the years, she had become accustomed to it. For her, there was always a way to rationalize it.

She started the Comet’s engine, staying in the park car a few minutes for it to warm up.

But this time, it was different. Over and over again, she played the scene in her head. Coming down the ladder, the bullet sliding on her thigh as she wrestled with the ganger and took him down. Then him: eyes widen, his mouth hanging, his palms open, his arms parted. Frozen on the spot. Complete and total fear. Ludi could have easily knocked him out. At the time, it didn’t even register to her that he wasn’t armed, and was clearly not a danger at all.

Again, she closed her eyes; tried to calm herself down.

It wasn’t her fault. She reacted out of instinct. She was injured… She had been shot twice. She was running for her life, and he was in her way. It wasn’t her fault.

Ludi pulled the car out of the parking spot and unto the streets.

Collateral damage. It was just collateral damage.

22:33:17 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

After a few minutes listening to Silverbird explain the procedure and repeating it a few times to make sure he had it memorized, Max calmed his spirit and prepared to test how much he thought he knew about his own abilities.

Following Silverbird's instructions, Max settled himself on the ground, carefully laying the objects he took from the Respite in front of him. Meditating quietly, aligning his spirit with Gargoyle, he takes a deep breath and releases himself into the astral plane.

Opening his eyes again, the world didn't look any different than it usually did to him. A dual natured being, the astral world was the world he saw every day. But there was something different. A cord, barely a sliver of a thing, was attached to the dress he'd taken. Slowly, he reached out towards it, picturing Keira in his mind's eye as the other magician had instructed.

An image of Keira, resplendent in the dress, flashed into his mind. It held for a moment, and cord seemed to solidify, but only for a moment. Then it vanished.

Clenching his fists in frustration, he could almost feel his nails digging into his palms, even though he knew there wasn't anything physical for them to dig into, the tension and frustration was almost a palpable thing surrounding him.

Forcing himself to calm down, willing his 'breathing' to return to a steady, even rhythm, he attempted to follow the instructions he had been given. He tried to focus not on Keira, but on the magic. On the totem. To be one with the guidance of his mentor spirit. The seconds ticked by, dragging so slowly they seemed as molasses crawling across a flat, empty plain.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a voice, a tiny thing, but one he desperately sought to hear. After what seemed to be a lifetime of silence, in his head, he could almost hear the voice of Gargoyle whispering to him.

No young one. You do not know that Keira. Not yet. Focus on the woman that you know, not the one that you wish to know. Some other night, we will hunt dreams. But tonight, this night, we will hunt only reality.

Shifting his gaze from the dress to the hairbrush, Max thought about the Keira he did know. Images of her flashed across his mind, working in the soup kitchen, always smiling, always there to lend a hand. The way she brushed her hair back into that loose but attractive ponytail that clearly communicated despite her lovely appearance, it was not what was important to her. She was there to help others.

Almost as if it had always been that way, he suddenly saw a cord attached to the brush as well. But not the fragile, delicate thing that had been attached to the dress. Before his eyes, the cord from the brush grew, and slowly solidified as it reached out into astral space...

07:36:08 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Soren’s apartment, Renton

Ludmilla stuck her keys and the Taleniekov credstick into her jacket pocket and quietly closed the apartment door. Hearing the satisfying "thunk" of the maglock re-engaging, she turned away from the door and paused. The apartment was quiet, but her enhanced hearing allowed her to determine that someone, most likely Zina, was in the kitchen. She removed her shapka and hung it on a hook near the door, before turning towards the kitchen.

Zina looked up as she walked in, setting aside the screamsheet she'd been reading. "You look awful," she said. She didn't seem concerned; she was just stating the obvious. "Sit, and I will get you some tea."

Standing, the old woman adjusted her housecoat and went to the cupboard to get a cup and saucer for her niece. Ludi did as instructed, lowering herself into the chair stiffly. She glanced at the screamsheet, a russian language printout of this morning's Post-Intelligencer, as her aunt placed the tea in front of her and sat down opposite. "Drink. You'll feel better."

07:38:12 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Soren’s apartment, Renton

Keeping her head low, Ludmilla lifted only her eyes to lock gaze with her aunt. She was strangely calm and easygoing: everything she hadn’t been expecting.

“Spasiba.”

Cradling the hot cup of tea in her rugged hands, Ludi slowly brought it to her lips and gently blew on the dark brown liquid. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply the slightly bitter aroma of the tea. Without adding anything, Zina simply sat back into her chair and picked up the screamsheet she had probably been reading. Not a word. Not a side a look. Nothing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” Ludi finally said, between to drink of tea.

All Zina had to reply was a rapid “hmph”. That fact that she wasn’t really reacting like her usual self was making Ludi very uncomfortable… She had no idea what to expect. After a few minutes spent in silence, Ludmilla finally reached over the table to put delicately her hand on Zina’s forearm.

“Listen; I’m sorry I worried you.”

The old Russian finally looked at her niece. She must have been so anxious. Maybe she had even stayed up all night, waiting for her. Ludi was living a dangerous lifestyle, and she realized that all she had told Zina before leaving was that she was going at a “business meeting”. So worried… She must have been so worried. Zina gave her niece a brief smile, breaking her usual mask of grumpiness.

“I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Her face darkened again.

“You really look awful Ludi.”

Ludi looked at her blurry reflection in the tea and ran a quick hand through her short black hair.

“… I know… Lana wasn’t too much trouble?”

“Unlike her mother, she never is.”

A sad smile crept on Ludmilla’s face. As much as she loved her daughter, she could never spend enough time with her. Kids grew fast, and Lana was no exception. Ludi was afraid that one day, she would come home and not recognize her daughter.

“You should go and wake that sleepy head up.”

“Come on Zina, it’s Saturday…”

“The day are for those who get up early! And if you don’t get her up, she’ll be more than a handful all day.”

“Well, I…”

“And I can’t take care of her all day, Ludmilla. I’ve got errands to run. You know, I have a life also.”

“Don’t worry about it Zina… I think I’ll take Lana to the mall…. Maybe to the movies…”

Picking up the empty cup, Zina walked over to the sink and filled it with water.

“Don’t spoil the child” she warned her.

“Might as well spoil her while I’m still around” Ludi whispered to herself.

She picked up Zina’s screamsheet and started to read it. Once Lana was up, she make breakfast, and then take her to the mall. She still felt terribly guilty for her absence of the past few days.

08:33:51 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony peeled his eyes open to the loud sitar music coming from the trideo, slapping the other side of the bed in a half asleep manner. No, she left a long time ago he thought, feeling the empty and cold sheets; his conscious mind was semi-surprised until he remembered that Reign had left before he’d called Sam earlier this morning.

“Ughh,” he said, smacking a few times to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth while sitting up. Then the headache hit: deciding that it was too much work to get up to turn off the alarm, he yelled out “OFF!” to the damned thing and looked over at the clock on the wall. What the frag? he thought before remembering that he’d set it last week to head off to Sung’s nine thirty morning class. Fraggin’ thing probably remembered.

Massaging his temples a few times, he decided that some painkillers probably weren’t a bad idea; water would be nice as well. Fighting the tequila induced headache and low grade nausea, he stumbled and slid on the cold hard wood flooring into the bathroom, keeping from wiping out while making the turn from the bedroom doorway only by grabbing the wall. The cold flooring shocked him into wakeful remembering, and seeing the scratchmarks on his back from Reign the night before seemed to push a bit of the headache back. At least, until he smiled: then his sinuses seemed to push inward.

Taking three brightly colored caplets with water straight from the tap, Tony padded and slid into the kitchen. Nuking a cup of soycaf, hoping the bitter taste would replace that of the tequila and medicine, he remembered that he had a job. Slowly making his way back to the bedroom for his psec and a robe, he made it back to the kitchen as the microwave beeped its announcement.

Reviewing his notes from last night, he sipped from the premade paper cup: bitter and nowhere near as subtle as its natural cousin, Tony was mainly looking for the caffeine kick and bad flavor to wake him up. Hmm, need a few things he thought, looking over what he’d written from the night before. Typing out a message while tighting up his robe and turning up the thermostat, he sipped bad coffee and waited for the painkillers to take the headache down.

22:39:18 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

"Just so happens that this type of mission lies down with my previous experience, so extra risk is something that I am used to accepting. You have my services Mr. Blaze."

Samwell extends his hand to meet Blaze's grasp.

"Now we drink together, first round on my cred."

09:11:02 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

After forty five minutes or so, the jackhammer pulses behind Tony's eyes have lessened to the point of a normal headache. Enough so that Zeyda's reply to his earlier message catches him in the middle of some much needed cleaning. His office no longer looked like a DMZ.

For you, my friend, only the best price. When would you like to do business? -Z

09:13:44 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Zedya’s message caught Tony in the middle of folding up some laundry after the painkillers loosened his sinuses grip from viselike to merely uncomfortably hard. The small second bedroom of his doss hadn’t been used in a long time; aside from the small (and long unused) futon, the room was mainly off season storage for clothing. Not to mention a handy place to stash the dirty laundry.

22:33:30 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Racing through Astral Space

Following the cord that extended from Keira's brush, Max flew through astral space at the speed of thought. Even as used to seeing everything in astral terms as he was, it was a beautiful thing to see the world fly by in the beauty of auras flashing by.

In moments, he had flown from Bellevue into the heart of the Redmond Barrens. As he got closer to the Barrens, however, the cord gradually faded from his view, until only the faintest twinges of it were visible. Straining to follow it, Max lost track of his bearings and almost smashed face first into an astral barrier, situated right over a warehouse deep in the heart of the Barrens, right where the cord faded entirely from his sight.

22:39:58 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

Blaze nods once. "All right then, it's settled. Welcome aboard the team. Do either of you have any further questions for now? I wish I could tell you more about the plan, but truth be told, I'm not entirely sure what it is right now. We'll probably need to have a planning meeting in the next few days to tie together all the loose ends that have been floating around and get us rolling on the job for real. Until then, is there anything else I can help either of you with?"

09:18:22 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

22:39:32 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

John had already leaned back into his chair after shaking Blaze's hand, when Samwell accepted the job and made the following statement:

"Now we drink together, first round on my cred."

He was shaken; surprised at the strength with which the old urges swelled inside him. While it was true that he still spent a lot of time in a bar, most of the crowd at Quinn's knew that he didn't drink. Now he'd been propositioned twice in the last hour. Struggling to maintain his composure, and hoping it didn't show, he removed the cigarette from his mouth and turned towards the rigger.

"Thanks fer tha offer, chummer, but I don't drink on tha job. Coffee'll work fer me."

Samwell nodded, then they both listened as Blaze welcomed them to the team. When he finished, John leaned forward.

"Yeah, we should set a meetin' time an' location now. Exchange contact info. That kind o' drek. Plus, anything ya got on tha target or location that you was maybe holdin' back would help now, if ya got it. And the advance wouldn't hurt none," he added with a grin. "Also, if we're lookin' I have leads on a couple of deckers. I'm sure they'd be willin' for the same sorta deal, if we're able ta offer it?"

09:18:22 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

07:46:07 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

Ludmilla sipped her tea, enjoying the quiet. Such moments were rare in this apartment, in her life. She absently read Zina's Post-Intelligencer while the old woman stood at the sink cleaning her breakfast dishes. The running water and soft clinking were the only sounds. Ludi took another sip, then closed her eyes and held the warm cup to her forehead.

She sat that way for a few moments before she heard the soft padding of small feet coming down the hall. Ludi opened her eyes and lowered the cup just in time to see Lana come around the corner. The small girl stopped in the doorway and rubbed her eyes, her dark hair in wild disarray. "Mama?"

Smiling, Ludi sat the cup down and held her arms wide. "Yes, baby. Mama's here." Lana was across the kitchen in a flash, flinging her thin arms around her mother's neck. "I'm glad you're home, Mama. I missed you."

Tears shone on Ludi's cheeks as she held her daughter close. "I'm sorry, little one. I missed you too. I missed you so much." For a few moments the only movement in the small kitchen was the slow trek of Ludi's tears as they slid down her cheeks and into Lana's hair. Eventually though, the young girl began to struggle. "Too tight! You're hurting me, Mama!"

Laughing, Ludi relaxed her grip, allowing Lana to climb down off of her lap. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm just so happy to see you!" Looking up, the small face became serious. "How long are you home?"

Reaching out, Ludi began to smooth her daughter's hair. "We have all day together, bedhead. What do you want to do? Should we go to the mall and see a movie?"

"Yeah! I wanna see the new one with..."

Zina cleared her throat roughly, obviously affected by the display. "Yes, yes. That is all well and good, but that comes later. Breakfast comes first. Come, Lana, sit down and Aunt Zina will make you some blinis. Your mother can get ready while you eat."

Ludi almost laughed aloud at the look of sheer horror that crept across Lana's face at Zina's offer to make breakfast. Her poor cooking was a private joke between the two. Luckily she'd been facing her mother and had her back to her great-aunt. "Don't worry, aunt. I'll make breakfast. You go on and get ready and run your errands before the salon opens."

Mother and daughter shared a secret smile as the old woman nodded and left the room.

08:02:41 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

Ludi stood near the partially open kitchen window with arms folded loosely across her chest, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She took a drag and watched as Lana happily ate her breakfast, singing along to some mindless pop tune blasting out of the kitchen's comm unit. Smiling, she exhaled towards the window.

"Ack! You know I hate when you smoke inside." Zina came to stand near her niece. Her coat was already on and she was tying a scarf around her head. "I'm leaving, but I almost forgot to tell you something. A man stopped by the salon last night near closing looking for you. He said he was an old friend, but I didn't recognize him." She waved her hands to clear the smoke and turned to leave.

22:33:31 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Redmond Barrens - Astral Space

The astral pollution in the barrens was thick. Probably why Max hadn't seen the astral barrier until he was almost on top of it. He knew this was a possibility when he started tracking the silver cord that was his tie to Keira. He fought back any frustration and cleared his mind. This was just the first step. His astral consciousness began searching and probing the perimeter of the barrier, hoping to catch a glimpse if the silvery thread exiting the warehouse from another location.

22:33:50 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Redmond Barrens - Astral Space

It did not take long for Max to scout around the barrier. There was no sign of the silvery thread that tied itself to Keira. Hope was beginning to stir from within him.

'Could this really be the end?...No' He shook the thought from his head. He couldn't let his hope distract him from his goal. It was possible that Keira was inside, but there was no guarantee. As much as he wished he could force his way through the barrier in front of him and look inside, he knew that would alert the mage or shaman that had created the barrier, which could be disastrous. If Keira was there and he alerted someone they would likely move her or worse. He needed to find John, but first he had another ritual to perform, one that he hoped would lead him back to this very warehouse.

Max took his time backtracking to his home, making mental notes of astral landmarks and any physical ones he could make out, so that he could find his way back in the physical world. Soon he could feel the jolt and intake of breath as he re-entered his physical form and his eyes fluttered open watching that silvery thread slowly fade into nothingness.

He looked to where Silverbird was sitting in the lodge to see what his physical condition was like.

10:50:43 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - Outside 905 West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

The daylight hour does nothing to improve the look of the building or the neighborhood. Trash litters the sidewalks up and down the block, the buildings look even more worn, and the grimy faces staring out from the bundles of rags that pass for clothes are drawn and haggard. Tony's target appears unchanged from his surveillance the night before.

22:06:30 Monday, 08 January 2063 – Domain, 810 Bishop St, Tacoma, UCAS

The outside air was chill razorblades on his skin, Vedic knew that the adrenaline of the moment before was wearing off. He glanced left and right, still towing Lilith behind him as the crowd from inside surged through the door. Numbers ran down in his mind, a clock that marched towards death as surely as night marched towards day. Soon he would go into shock, followed by loss of consciousness. Internal bleeding would turn septic, poisoning his system. Fever would set in as his immune system fought a futile battle against the damage done to the body, infection leading to kidney failure, heart arrhythmia, and eventual death.

With a tug, he brought Lilith level to him, passing her the keys to the car.

“Listen to me, little Toy, my life depends on you following my instructions. There’s a stuffer shack down the road from Studio Milan.” He fumbled in his jacket for a credstick.

“Take this. I need a medkit, gauze, tape, hydrogen peroxide, and water.”

The vehicle shuddered as Lilith shifted into gear, hazing the edges of his vision with black. When it cleared again, he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks. His breath felt hot, liquid in his lungs.

“What do I need, Toy?”

“Medkit, gauze, tape, hydrogen peroxide, water.” Her reply was instant and mechanical, unaffected by the trauma of the situation. Vedic nodded, regretting the motion, reaching into his back pocket for the pair of bandanas he kept. Pressing the first against the dark welling of blood on his leg, he tied the other in place on top of it. Direct pressure on the wound slows blood loss. He closed his eyes, retreating from the pain into a world of perfect darkness.

I feel no pain. I am a creature of will alone.

“Sir?”

Vedic opened his eyes. Every joint in his body felt like it was made of sandpaper, and he shivered, suddenly cold. Afterimages of ragged purple danced in his vision, clearing slowly.

“Sir?”

Lilith leaned over him, eyes still red-rimmed, her hand warm on his cheek. Vedic swallowed twice, fighting to get some moisture on his tongue. Enough of the world came into focus that he recognized the parking area behind Studio Milan. Sound returned, the noise of the streets, aircraft overhead, the pulse of the city. He inhaled, drawing in jagged white pain, exhaled, and opened the door. The winter wind stole the last of the warmth from his body, leaving only the memory of Lilith’s hand on his cheek and the blood drying black on his skin. Moving with a barely noticeable limp, Vedic strode through the front doors. The brunette standing at the front desk bowed as he entered. He nodded stiffly in return, acknowledging her respect for his position. Lilith trailed him, tense with concern. He paused, resting his gloved right hand on the counter.

“Aslia, please clear all of Lilith’s appointments for the next week. Tell Mistress Octavia that payment will be as usual.”

“Of course, Master Vedic.”

Once inside her apartment, Vedic steadied himself with a hand against the wall, sucking in air.

“Sir?” asked Lilith again, her hands on his back. Vedic shrugged out of his longcoat with her help.

“Wounds need to be cleaned, Toy.” Wallet, keys, commlink, belt and flashlight joined his coat on the floor as he limped to the bathroom. The folding knife was hot against his skin as he cut away his shirt, careful not to violate the integrity of any of the kevlar panels sewn into it. Blood oozed anew from wounds as he pulled the fabric away. Lilith dabbed at the flows with gauze pads. Vedic sat on the edge of the tub to cut away his pants.

“Hydrogen peroxide,” he directed, vision graying out again as he untied the bandanas keeping pressure on the wound to his thigh. He gestured at the growing pile of bloody gauze pads on the floor. “And keep those to burn them.”

The sizzle reached his ears a fraction of a second before the pain hit him, ripping a curse from his lips and sending the world reeling darkly. Lilith bit her lip, pausing until he nodded to continue. The wounds bubbled and fizzed, crusted black blood giving way to red flesh. Vedic passed clean gauze to Lilith, allowing her to bind his wounds. His fingers felt numb, his limbs heavy and bloated. Shock was catching up with him, the last of his adrenaline metabolizing away.

“Change the dressings twice a day. No solid food for the first day.”

Lilith nodded, reaching out to help him into bed. Vedic began to shiver uncontrollably, pulling the covers over his damaged body with his left hand.

16:12:04 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 – Apartment 3C, Studio Milan, 5151 Castleton Way, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

He stood on the banks of a river of blood and viscera, naked. The smell of ash and burned flesh hung heavy in the air, diesel flames flickering on the opposite shore. Illuminated by the dancing firelight were a host of broken bodies, moving jerkily across a beach of jagged glass. Their limbs shivered, heads lolling uncontrollably as if they were drunken marionettes. He knew them all.

“My son.” A figure waded into the river, her arms outstretched. Flesh hung off her bones in rotten strips, her eyes were blackened pits. The wound in her chest sprouted sickly yellow tentacles, each tipped with a savage mouth that tore at her remaining flesh.

“Mother,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He stepped towards the water, the razor sharp rocks slicing into the bare flesh of his feet. Grimacing, he struggled forward, the bloody river lapping icily about his thighs. He stumbled, crying out as he fell beneath the water. Rotten blood filled his nose, his mouth, and he pushed himself to the surface, coughing. His mother’s bony fingers caressed his face before forcing him below the surface again.

Vedic coughed, choking on the liquid, some kind of sports drink. Lilith took the cup away, holding out a towel.

“How long?” rasped Vedic, reaching for the cup again.

“Eighteen hours, Sir. How…how are you feeling?”

He finished the last of the juice before glancing around. A nearby trash bag held his clothes and a pile of bloody bandages, ready to be burned.

“Like I’ve been shot. I’ll need food next time.” Vedic shivered, cold to the bone. Lilith’s naked skin was a hot iron against his flesh, and he felt the blood thunder through his veins. Darkness swept over him again.

07:33:52 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Apartment 3C, Studio Milan, 5151 Castleton Way, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

The basalt ground was meat locker cold, freezing the flesh of his feet to its surface with every step he took. A trail of bloody footprints stretched back towards the horizon. Only one feature broke the level plane, one identifiable mark amidst the utterly barren, icy black wasteland. Vedic knew who it was. Maggots and worms crawled across her frozen skin, burrowing beneath it until her entire body writhed with hungry organisms. They dripped from her eyes and mouth, faint workings that fell to die on the frozen landscape.

“Elisa.”

“I’ve been waiting for you, my love,” she replied, blood and mucous running down her chin. The dark crimson tracks down her cheeks were still identifiable as tears, though. Vedic dropped to his knees before her, hands folded in his lap.

“I tried. I tried to save you. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t fast enough. I didn’t see it coming.” His voice was a ragged whisper, choked with emotion.

“Come to me now, my love.” She lifted her arms to him, flesh pulling free of the basalt with a sound like frozen canvas tearing. Vedic’s arm lifted, almost of its own volition. His body ached to hold her, to lie down on the frozen ground and let the worms cover him. To rest.

“Not yet, my love. Soon.” He stood, leaving chunks of flesh behind on the frozen ground. He stared at her for a moment more, her outstretched arms and pleading eyes. Then he turned and walked back towards the horizon. He did not look back.

Pinkish clear pus oozed from his wounds. Vedic wiped it away carefully, trading Lilith for a clean set of gauze pads. The smell of xao gung permeated the small apartment, not quite as pungent as what he was used to from The Green Papaya, but good nonetheless. It was like manna from heaven to his ravaged system.

“Looking better?”

Vedic nodded, binding the pure white square in place with a series of tape strips.

“Yes, healing well. Three or four more days and I’ll be as good as new.” He glanced at the wreckage of the tattoo on the back of his thigh. “Or nearly so.”

Lilith followed his gaze, biting her lower lip. Instead of commenting, though, she rose from the bed and made her way to the hotplate on the small countertop. Filling two plastic bowls with the noodles and soy, she offered him one, sitting at the foot of the bed. Vedic could feel her eyes on him as he ate, but he said nothing. He knew it was more than the state of his health that interested her. He finished with his usual speed, setting the bowl aside after only five minutes.

“Good?” Lilith stirred her noodles with her pair of chopsticks, a soft smile on her face. Vedic nodded, wincing as he sat up again. He glanced at the few remaining packages on the shelves above the counter.

“You’re going to have to go shopping, soon. We need more food, medical supplies, clothes.” He drew another certified credstick from his coat pocket, placing it on the bed next to Lilith. He brushed his hand along her leg, rubbing her calf absently.

“It’ll look less suspicious if you buy for yourself as well as me.”

His gear was close at hand, the pile noticeably smaller, but his knife was within easy reach. His mistake had nearly cost him his life and the life of his Toy. Evolution rarely offered a second chance, mistakes were often synonymous with death. He would not make the same mistake again.

05:28:09 Thursday, 11 January 2063 – Apartment 3C, Studio Milan, 5151 Castleton Way, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

Vedic turned through two hundred and seventy degrees, three attacks flying. The air popped around him, knife edges of hands and feet accelerating like whips. He planted and struck again, body tense at the moment of impact, then dissolving into fluid motion. At this point in his training, an exercise like this should have been nothing more than a warm up. But after three days of recovery it was all he could do to maintain his focus against the pain cutting through his system. He spun and struck again. And again. And again. The pale flesh of his body shone in the dim light, the bandages covering his wounds soaked through with blood and sweat. As swiftly as it began, it was over. Vedic stood motionless in the half-light, sweat beaded on his back. His arms hung loose as he breathed, slowing his heart rate, washing away the pain. A noise from behind him brought his head around like a gun turret swiveling to bear. Lilith’s eyes glittered as she watched him, curled beneath the covers. He could feel the heat of her body, acknowledging for the first time the desire coursing through him. The organism had survived death, it wanted to prove, in the most basic way possible, that it was still alive. He growled, low in his throat, a hungry, animal sound. He moved like an avalanche falling, erasing the distance between them.

09:27:41 Friday, 12 January 2063 – Apartment 3C, Studio Milan, 5151 Castleton Way, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

“Twenty four hours.” Vedic peeled back the bandage covering the wound to his side, adding the soiled gauze pad to the pile requiring disposal. Lilith hummed to herself as she showered, watching him as he spoke.

“You know where to find me.” Zeyda broke the connection. Vedic set his commlink aside, working the last of the gauze free from his leg. His wounds were healing well, scabbed closed and no longer oozing. The world no longer faded to gray when he walked, his muscles no longer felt like rusted steel cables. It would be another week before he was back to one hundred percent, though. Unfortunately, he couldn’t wait that long. He stepped into the shower behind Lilith, relishing the clouds of steam that wrapped around him. He took the sponge from her hand, gently soaping her back. Lilith purred, stepping back into him. He slid his arms around her, nuzzling her neck.

“You’re leaving today, aren’t you?” She whispered.

“Yes.” Vedic replied. She turned in his arms, hunger and sadness in her eyes. He leaned in and kissed her, allowing himself to respond to her desire. Later, he knew, would come her quiet pleas to stay.

22:34:00 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Returning to his physical body, Max opens his eyes to see Silverbird looking at him. "Were you able to find the one we seek?" he asked simply.

22:41:19 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

Blaze nods and pulls out a pocket secretary. After a few moments, the three of them have exchanged contact info. That done, he looks at the two of them and says, "Actually, we're still in the process of getting information on the target and the location. What I told you is all I know right now. Another member of our team is currently out gathering that information, and I assume we'll all be debriefed as soon as it is confirmed. We may or may not be taking you up on that offer for the decker, but yes, the same deal would stand for them. We have some possibilities right now, but I'll keep you posted. As for the advance, I'll have to go talk to the Johnson to get it from him, so how about I give it to you at our debriefing in the next couple of days?"

22:34:05 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

"I tracked her until I ran into an astal barrier, but I could not see the thread exiting the area. Hopefully she is still there." Max replied to the question. "I am hoping the items belonging to our second target will lead me to the same location. Let me know when you are ready to begin again." Max was eager to continue, he knew he was on Keira's trail and that seemed to energize him.

22:42:23 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

John thought about the 30-odd nuyen in paper corp-scrip that was his total net worth at the moment and almost sighed out loud. It wouldn't be the first time he scraped by on next to nothing.

First glancing at Samwell, he then turned and nodded to the red-coated Blaze. "That'll have ta do, huh? Ya can't give what ya ain't got." He grabbed his cigarettes and lighter off of the table, stuck them into his jacket.

"Need ta talk to our other teammate first, or should we set up the next meet now?"

10:54:17 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 900 Block of West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

Tony got off of the bus, seemingly taking it into another country. He’d never experienced the poverty that most of the people moving on this street had; growing up in a corporate environment eliminated any chance of that. Even living up here for awhile, he’d only encountered the kind of soul crushing poverty that these people were living in only rarely. Even dressed in what to him was stained and barely presentable coat he stood out among the people moving around near the bus stop; most would have killed for a coat like his in this weather.

Noticing the time, Tony had a delemia. Take time to look more closely at this run down building with is security systems and seemingly random graffiti? Or make it on time to a meeting with his fixer to actually get on with this job? The maddingly slow and headache returning bus ride out here hadn’t left time for both. Tony, feeling the familiar headache returning moved up the block with the flow of the human traffic, ostensibly paging though numbers on his psec for a taxi service while taking in the building in a better light than last night. Quick look is better than nothing, since I dragged my hoop out here.

11:08:33 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 900 Block of West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

The silent facade of the building mocks Tony as he attempts to divine further information from it. It presents nothing in the way of identifying marks or images beyond the off-white gang tags and it's stenciled block number. The windows reveal no lights, no casual glimpse of workers or occupants. No one enters or leaves during the time that Tony watches, and none of the multitude of rusted and worn vehicles parked on the street seem to belong to anyone who could or would work at such a place.

08:02:58 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

The cigarette half way to her lips, Ludmilla stopped.

An old friend?

Of course, probably every single vory member knew Ludmilla sometimes worked there... but they had always been an unspoken rule amongst the organization. The Vory prided itself in living by a certain code. Showing up like that in another member's personal life wasn't something normal. Ludi doubted it was one of her "coworkers". If they wanted to reach her, they could simply call her.

Alec?

The detective knew very well that she helped her aunt around the shop from time to time.

What if...

Zina had already turned her back to her and was moving toward the front door. Leaving her cigarette on the lid of the window, Ludmilla caught up with her aunt, following her into the living room.

"Wait Zina.... did he leave a name or a number to reach him?" she said, trying to appear as composed as possible... as if she knew who the man was. Zina was already a worried woman, especially after last night. There was no reason to add to her problems.

11:10:04 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 900 Block of West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

Fraggin’ enigma Tony thought while looking at the building from a corner down the block. While probably good from a security perspective, the building’s unobtrusive exterior blended in far better than his means of cracking it. Only the security cameras and a set of maglocks and keypads at the front and rear held any evidence that this place wasn’t as abandoned as the rest of the buildings on this block. Typing a message to Zeyda, he idly wondered why there were even people here.

08:03:13 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

"No, he didn't. I asked, but he just said that he would try back another time. Then he thanked me and left. A very polite young man, though he was dressed like a hooligan."

Ludi frowned slightly. Zina's description could have been anyone. To her anyone without silver hair was "young," and anyone whose fashion sense didn't meet with her conservative approval (including Ludi's own) dressed like a "criminal" or "hooligan."

"Is there anything else, Zina?" Ludi was trying very hard to keep her tone neutral, so as not to alert her aunt, but she couldn't help but be concerned. The salon was just downstairs. If this person meant her harm...

Zina interrupted her thoughts with a loud snort. "Hmph! Don't you think I would have mentioned it already if there was anything else? Now I have to go, or I'll be late." She turned back towards the door and disengaged the maglock, then paused. "Well, maybe you should ask Varya. She was busy while the man was in the salon, but afterwards said she thought he looked familiar." With that, she walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

08:03:55 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

As Zina closed disappeared behind the closed door, Ludmilla’s paranoia tripled. She wasn’t new to taking risks and living on the edge of a very dangerous world.

But the past few days had started to erode he common sense, composure, and the security blanket she had draped herself in. Maybe Sascha was having second thoughts about her imposed loyalty to him. Maybe the higher ups were finally seeing her as a threat because of her relation with Mikhail. Maybe Alec had finally decided to turn on her. Maybe who ever Sascha wanted her to spy on had heard of the operation. Maybe it was someone else from her past, coming to get some payback.

The feeling of well-being, and satisfaction, that had filled her when she had held Lana, close to her hearth, started to thin away. Varya had supposedly said the man looked familiar… But as much as Ludi loved her friend, she knew very well she wasn’t the most reliable when it came to remembering people.

Still deep in her thoughts, Ludi walked the half closed blinds of the living rooms window, peering outside and into the street. When she was satisfied that nothing looked out of place, she completely pulled the blinds down, cutting out the warm rays of sunlight that had been shining in the living room.

Coming into the kitchen she gave a broad smile to Lana, trying to hide her new worries behind it.

“Listen baby, why don’t you run and get ready.”

Lana was definitely excited about spending a day with her mom. It wasn’t something that happen all that often. Without adding a word, she skipped to her room to get dressed. She was such an adorable child. Each time Ludi doubted her actions, she remembered why she did what she did: so that Lana would have a brighter future. So that her daughter wouldn’t have to go through what she had.

Walking to the telecom unit, she hooked off the wireless set, and dialed Varya’s number as she walked to the fridge. As the unit rang, Ludmilla reached behind the refrigerator, pulling off a holster that was attached with velcro. Peaking out the kitchen to make sure Lana wasn’t ready yet, she checked the pistol magazine, chambered a round, and attached the holster to her waist. Grabbing her jacket off the chair it was resting on, she made sure it hid the Predator. At the end of the line, the phone was still ringing.

Come on Varya… Pick up…

08:06:28 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

After several moments the call connects. Ludi first hears nothing but the shuffling of sheets and unintelligible grumbling. A quick glance at the comm unit's screen reveals a "Video Unavailable" message. Finally, she hears Varya croak, "Who is it?"

08:06:30 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

Smiling for herself, Ludmilla replied in her accented english.

"Wake up sunshine! It's a bright new day!"

Varya still behave like a teenager. Her being up before noon on a weekend was something almost impossible. Odds were, she was probably hungover from some late night partying.

"Sorry to wake you, but I need to ask you something?"

Ludi waited a few seconds for her friend to awaken up a bit more.

"Zina told me someone came by the shop yesterday to see me... Do you know anything about that?"

22:34:41 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Silverbird nods his head and smiles, clearly pleased with Max's success. "Excellent, Mr. Steiner. Let us continue then. Hopefully we will be as fortunate with our second subject as the first."

Closing his eyes again, Silverbird sinks once again into a trance, leaving Max to fulfill his part. Experience makes it a bit easier for Max the second time around. This time he sees the thread clearer and more quickly, and follows it with less hesitation than he did the first time.

Whipping along through astral space, Max quickly followed the trail of the astral cord from Nora's artifacts. Much to his delight, he found that he recognized the terrain, and even more thrilling, the final destination: it was the same warehouse where he had tracked Keira's thread to.

22:42:45 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

"I'll need to talk to our other teammate first Scrapheap. She's the one calling the shots." Nodding at the two of them, Blaze says, "I'm looking forward to working with you two. When we know when we're meeting, I'll give you both a call. Expect one in the next couple of days."

With that, he turns and strides out of the room, leaving Scrapheap alone with the talkative rigger.

22:44:05 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

"I've been on missions like this before, where each team member may have to wade into enemy fire just to give us all a fair shot at living to spend the job's take. A man won't do something like that just for a stranger getting paid the same as he. . . ."

With that Samwell sticks his hand out towards his stoic companion. "I'm Samwell, and I will do such things for mi amigos."

22:36:02 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Max kept whatever excitement he was feeling under control for now. He had a destination now if Keira was there he was going to find her....tonight. But he would need help. Once again he took his time to orient himself to the real world location of the warhouse as he made his way back home.

His eyes fluttered open when he re-entered his body and turned to look at the shaman before him..."Thank You." He said genuinely. "That is all the help I needed tonight. How much do I owe you."

08:06:42 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

"Wha... Ludi? Is that you?" As Ludmilla smiled to herself, the comm's video feed went live, showing a very disheveled Varya squinting at her with bloodshot eyes. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Da, it is time to be getting up. Zina will not be happy if you are calling in sick again."

Cursing under her breath, Varya shifted around to a sitting position, clutching her sheet to her chest. "Ok, ok, I'm up. Happy? You're such a bully." She and Ludi shared a laugh, before the younger woman held a hand to her forehead. "Oww. Uh, so what did you want to know?"

After Ludmilla repeated the question, Varya looked up and said, "I don't know, Ludi. I just thought he looked familiar. He reminded me of someone we would have hung with back when we were hitting the clubs. More your scene than mine, you know?"

Ludi knew what her friend meant. Varya was into dance music and clubs. Modern, techno-driven drek that she hated. Ludi's favorite was the retro heavy-metal scene. She had loved going to clubs, jumping into the pits, moshing to the beat. It fit her nature. "Da, I know. What did he look like?"

"I dunno. Dark hair and eyes. Goatee. Black biker jacket. Cute, you know?" Pausing, Varya looked at the time and swore. "Sorry, Ludi, but I better start getting ready. Anything else?"

22:44:20 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Private Dining Room in Zerikolopoli

Taking Samwell's hand in his right, John said, "Scrapheap."

Standing, he flicked his cigarette to the floor and used his boot to grind it out. "Lissen, chummer, I'm afraid I'm gonna have ta take a rain check on that coffee. I got other obligations.

"Sides, this ain't gonna be no quick job. We're gonna have plenty o' time ta get to know each other." Giving the swarthy rigger a lopsided grin he added, "And don't worry, on a job...I don't fraggin' leave nobody behind. Kinda my specialty, fer better or worse."

Lighting another cigarette, John turned to leave. "Gimme a call if ya need somethin.' Otherwise, see ya in a few."

08:08:01 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

Dark hair and eyes. Goatee. Black biker jacket. Cute.
That could fragging be anyone...

Sighing heavily, Ludi rubbed the back of her neck. A few years back, she wouldn't have cared at all if someone was looking for her. But now... it was a very different thing.

Now dressed, Lana came running in the kitchen.

"No no. Spasiba Varya. We should go out soon... I'll try to call you back before monday. Have good day!"

Waving a goodbye at the telecom, Ludmilla hung up.

"Can we go now? Can we go now? Can we go now!"

Lana just couldn't keep her excitement contained. Jumping all over the kitchen, she started pulling on her mother's jacket, trying to drag her towards the door. Smiling at her daughter, Ludmilla ran her hand thru the little girl's hair.

"Yes baby, we're going."

22:42:12 Saturday January 13, 2063; Kitchen, Soren apartment, Renton

Ludmilla slowly walked down John Street, yawing as she went. The day had been rather long, keep up with Lana had drained a lot of energy out of her. Nevertheless, she felt at ease and rather pleased with how the day had been. The hours she had spent with her daughter had made her forget all the problems she faced on a daily basis. In the end, it was always worth it, just for those moments.

Hands buried in her pocket, the flaps of her beaten up shapka covering her ears, she turned unto 5th avenue. As she walked up to the Fun House, she couldn't help herself but gaze at the Space Needle, not too far away.

As she stopped to light herself a cigarette, she eyed the entrance of the place. For once, her clothes, hair cut and mannerism would go unnoticed. This was her kind of place. She had no idea what job exactly she would be able to get, but even if it didn't go well, she could always have a bit of fun.

11:18:33 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 900 Block of West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

Still waiting for his cab, Tony lounges at the street corner, still watching his target. His pocket secretary shook with an incoming message.

11:32:57 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 900 Block of West Park Avenue, Tacoma, UCAS

Waiting on the cab ride while looking at the building ”Arrival estimated in 15 minutes,” the dispatch system promised wasn’t getting Tony anywhere. Nothing moved in the building, and the human traffic outside was just as uninteresting. Even with the pale, low latitude sun out, the weathermen’s promised warming trend was probably only happening in the studio; Tony only barely removed glanced at the message from his fixer, half out of the chill, half out of not wanting to make a scene in from of some beetlehead looking for nuyen to score his next fix. A few of those were out, charestically jerky movements belying the need for another fix soon. Tony stayed against the corner and tried to keep warm waiting on the cab and watching both the traffic and the building.

A tussle up the block snapped Tony out of his trance of watching the erstwhile cyberclinic: one of the chipheads ineptly pursesnatched a relatively affluent women almost right in front of the building that he was watching. Disregarding the women screaming at the unresponsive passerby, Tony watched as the chiphead danced clumsily in and out of the human river, moving with the current toward the opposite end of the block.

Involuntarily, his hands reached out of his pockets and inside his coat, feeling the little Morrisey holdout snug in its holster. Long shot with this bean-shooter he thought, gauging the distance. The laser sight would help, but it was a hard shot even for him with the jerking chiphead, barely-bigger-than-hand gun, moving passerby, and hangover.

The women continued yelling, asking any of the unconcerned bystanders for help. Instinct tugged at him, whispering that he could make the shot if he took it, intoning that it would be the right thing to do. Tony’s hand gripped the cool, non-metallic flowing shape of the pistol. Reason screamed at him then to leave this be, put the gun back, and that hitting the mugger (if you can even hit him from here) would just draw attention to himself when that was exactly what he didn’t want to do. Tony narrowed his eyes, checking the distance again; the chiphead was almost to the corner. Tony tightened his hand on the butt of the pistol, just about to draw, his decision made,…

The sound of a car pulling up to the curb interrupted his concentration. Looking slightly behind over his shoulder, he saw the black and white checked minivan pulling up at the corner behind him. Tony looked up again; the mugger had rounded the corner, the women had collapsed against the building, sobbing in to her hands. Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Tony dropped the pistol back into its holster and moved his hand up inside the coat to another pocket holding his credstick.

“Downtown. 1400 block of East 13th ,” Tony said to the ork cabbie after he’d crossed the street with more anger than he wanted. “Bonus if you get me there in 30 minutes or less,” he added normally, taking a deep breath to calm himself. As the cab pulled away from the curb, the women still was sobbing against the wall of the building he had been watching. Closing his eyes and still taking deep breaths, he felt his hands shaking from the adrenaline rush and the frustration of not being able to do anything. Concentrating as hard as the sinus headache he had allowed, he breathed deep and stared at his hands, trying to will them back to their normal stillness.

It took most of the trip back to his apartment to bleed off the shakes.

12:17:08 Saturday, 13 January 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace Apt 203, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Goddamn wind. Goddamn cold. Goddamn not having any real coffee left Tony thought, opening up the door to his flat after a block and a half walk. Paying the bonus to the cabbie didn’t help either; pulling up in exactly 29 minutes and 50 seconds to the spot. Slotting one of Radian’s credsticks for the amount, he fumed on to his flat.

Thumbing the door, he found nothing amiss around the apartment. And no coffee; just a few nuke-and-wakes in the fridge. While he’d been able to abate the post- (or in this case, non-) fight shakes, his frustration at not actually being able to do anything about the mugger didn’t go away and continued to eat at him.

Why get so worked up about this the reasoning part of his mind asked. He knew the answer; getting involved earlier this week had cost him some ammo and some rapidly healing bruising in his upper chest. Despite this, he stared at the microwave while the soycafe turned on the carousel, plastic wrapper statically promising taste, warmth, and alertness. He knew that only two of these were true; he’d worked for the company that made the drek at one time and taste wasn’t one of the qualifications that the QA people had at all.

Well, get this through your tough guy head. Meeting with Zedya, 1300. That you’ve already rescheduled once.[/] reason said, calmly while Tony sipped the almost too hot and defiantly too bitter drink. [i]Going to take this out on him? Good chance getting what you need then, or anything later on. You fragging get it together. Andie ain’t getting out herself. That didn’t help anything; last night with Reign still was going around in his head those green eyes move through the darkness of his apartment almost faster than he can track them, and he was helping her tonight.

You’ll be able to help her, then Andie. Not now; now you’ve got to pull together, be the pro for a bit his instinct agreed as Tony sipped the soycaf.

Finishing up his list as he finished the dregs of the foul drink, he slipped out of the stained coat and into a warmer, softer jacket. The holdout went back into his duffel bag. Grabbing his keys, the frustration had waned, but the hangover remained. A lunchtime beer would help he thought, firing up the Americar for the trip down to the Landing.