19:30:58 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Outside the Paradigm Shift, Touristville, Redmond, Seattle, UCAS

"Make it midnight. The purpose is business, the details of which we can discuss at that time."

Vedic saved the second line to the vehicle's navigation memory, closing his commlink interface. The hours in between would allow him ample time to survey Windmere Transport as well as a comfortable window to transit to and from the widely disparate locations. Reaching over, he unlatched the glove compartment and pulled out a flash pack, and a pair of smoke grenades. Adding them to his concealed load bearing gear completed his light operations load. Vedic disengaged the autopilot and accelerated into the night.

23:39:22 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Max heard the chime of the elevator, letting him know John had arrived.

"In here," he called from the great room and stood up to great the old street sam. He was dressed in his "working" gear and a black duffle sat on the coach containing a change of clothes, spare ammo and a few other items.

As John walked into the room he spoke, knowing that while John may have found out some interesting information at his meet, what Max had to say was even more important.

"I found a warehouse that both Keira and Nora are either in or have been in. The warehouse is warded, so to get any closer would have alerted the mages who created it."

23:39:46 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

John nodded, noting the way Max was dressed. "I take it you're ready ta go check tha place out right fraggin' now? Can ya find it in tha flesh?"

23:14:18 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

As she spoke, the two gangers looked from the points Ludi had indicated on the map to her face. They then glanced at each other, before Byte's nod seemed to show they had come to some sort of decision. "30," Scratch said, swallowing. "The J agreed to 30k in certified cred."

The russian fighter simply nodded, keeping her reaction to herself for now. "What about weapons? Transport?"

The young orc smiled somewhat ruefully, "We ain't what you'd call gun-bunnies," he patted a slight lump under his jacket before continuing, "but we ain't helpless neither. And yeah, we got a car outside."

"And the data?"

Byte smiled and pulled out a disk and case. "S'benz dun'n dun."

23:39:52 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Max nodded. "Unless you can think of a reason not to go, then yes." While he was more than ready to go, he was willing to listen to reason if John had other ideas. "I can find it. The warehouse is in the barrens, but if I have to I can project again and verify the landmarks in the astral. The only problem we may have is that barrier. While you can cross it without setting of any alarms, I cannot." The greyish-white skinned shaman stated. "I would have to push through the wall and that would alert any unfriendly mages."

23:40:19 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

"I'm as eager ta find 'em as you, so I got no problem with goin' tonight. Now. 'Course, that don't mean we're goin' chargin' right in. We should go down there, look the place over, see if there's any locals we can get anything out of. Squatters, chip-heads, fraggers like that. So if ya got it, bring some paper cred fer bribes.

"Oh, and we should take the van. Yer Westwind'd stand out too much in tha barrens."

23:40:32 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

Max just nods at what John says and grabs the duffle off the couch.

"Let's go."

23:41:01 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - One Lincoln Tower

John followed the pale shaman to the elevator, and remained silent during the ride to the lobby. When the doors opened, he went over to the security desk to retrieve his Manhunters, then led the way out to the van.

As they entered, Max tossed his pack into the back seat as John started the engine. Putting the dented delivery vehicle into gear, the old runner pulled from the parking space and turned towards Redmond."When we get closer, you just let me know where ta turn, chummer."

Max simply nodded, looking out the window as the terrain slid by. Figuring that his friend would talk when he was ready, John cracked open his window and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. After a short time, Max turned and said, "So, you were hired to go to California too."

John gave him a lopsided grin, "Yeah, though it sounds like it could be a rough gig. I may even be able to get you on tha payroll, if you're interested."

23:50:02 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Enroute to Barrens

Max divided his focus between his conversation with John and his view of both the road and astral space. It wasn't the easiest thing to do. Every once and a while he would indicate a direction as the van rumbled through the streets of Seattle.

"Depends on my meeting tomorrow with the Director of the Camp and Mr. and Mrs. Wong. I am supposed to fly there tomorrow with Hideo and begin my work, whatever that is, as well as look in on the Wong's daughter. If the meeting blows up in my face, I may just take you up on that, but if it doesn't then you may have me inside the camp to help."

He pauses for a second before saying..."Either way I think all of this is bad news."

20:05:10 Saturday 13 January 2063 -29-57 Kennewick Place NE, Bellevue, Seattle, UCAS

The drive to the address listed for Windmere Transport was uneventful. The cold weather still kept all but the hardiest or most chipped up of the go-gangs indoors. The streets and highways, clogged earlier in the week with snow, ice, and abandoned vehicles had been chemically melted, scraped and towed relatively clear. The weather forecasters warned motorists against black ice and refreezing slush, but the constantly stirred icemelter cocktail that semi-covered the roadways seemed to be fortified against the cold night.

The address for Windmere Transport turned out to be a 3 story office building close to the freeway, guarded by a fence with a controlled access gate leading to a spacious parking lot that Vedic judged to be too large for just the office workers in the building. Scattered lights revealed typical corporate landscaping; white rock with scattered evergreen foliage. Several white medium size panel cargo trucks were parked neatly under lighting on one side of the area, and a light sprinkling of passenger cars closer to the building gave the lot some color other than white.

Next to the gate, a large plastiboard sign advertised “SPACE FOR LEASE” in large letters along with an LTG number for anyone interested.

21:18:07 Saturday 13 January 2063 -29-57 Kennewick Place NE, Bellevue, Seattle, UCAS

Vedic scanned the building. His eyes picked out the corners, searching for camera installations, checked the front entrance and the fire exits. He noted the fenceline, and the positions of the floodlights. At this point, he didn't intend to break into the building. But he needed as much information about his target as possible. He wondered idly at what it was going to take to convince Mr. Anderson to abandon his pursuit.

Pain was usually a good motivater, although money served equally well. At this point, he didn't have enough information about Mr. Anderson to judge which approach would work better. The trick would be to convince him that it was his decision to cease the hunt and not a response to outside pressure. Whichever path he chose, it was likely to involve an extensive conversation. Something about Vanessa's description of Mr. Anderson struck him as unusual. It wasn't the behavior of a jilted suitor. Something else was at work here, and Vedic feared that, though he needed to know, once uncovered the dark motivator would only serve to complicate the solution.

His fingers made sharp, quick movements across the flat acrylic keyboard, tallying all of the surveillance points. He noted cars in the parking lot by position, make, model, color, and license if readable. Over the hour of his watch he was careful to note the traffic flow at this time of day, as well as Lone Star patrols, both ground and aerial fly-bys. The grid guide cameras at the intersections were of interest as well, including their view of the building and parking lot.

He was low on funds, dangerously so. He couldn't afford to offer a large bribe. But perhaps merchandise in trade? Vedic filed that option away for later. He needed more information, and soon.

13:24:06 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 3 blocks north of Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony smiled as the call disconnected. Barbecue wasn't hard to find in the Sprawl; enough expatriots from various cultures were here to ensure that. Finding good barbecue was another story. He'd been to a few places in fits of homesickness before and found that most place’s idea of barbecue was slathering a boiled rack of ribs in ketchup. Even the Chinese and Korean places didn't do much better, despite what Sung would say if he’d been asked.

Pulling out of the parking space, he remembered a place Rebecca mentioned earlier in the week; newer place down in the public part of the Underground. Good ribs, wiz beer she had said. It's in the public part of the underground, not like you're going to have to fight Neil the Ork Barbarian to get some takeout Tony thought, picking out the entrance on his autonav.

13:40:33 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – Ork Underground Public Area (East), Downtown, Seattle, UCAS

The smell hit him before he walked in, rich real wood smoke-smell. Liquid stuff had come a very long way, and he hadn’t been around it in years, and never could tell the exact species anyway. Big place was the first thought that went through Tony's head as he walked in to Gunter's. The seating area was a good 20 meters on a side, littered with widely spaced plastic tables covered by equally cheap red vinyl tablecloths shining dully in the overhead fluorescent light, and he probably couldn't jump and touch the gray acoustic tile ceiling. The sense of cafeteria-like open space was enhanced by the lack of patrons; a few orks were clustered at a long table on the right wall who stopped talking and looked up as he walked in the doorway, and a huge troll was wiping down the vinyl draped round tables in the middle. Conversation that resumed seconds after it stopped, eating sounds and a few bangs and clashes from the kitchen echoed along the white painted cinderblock walls. Cheap reprints of outdoor life from early in the century were placed at troll eye level in places along the walls on the left and the right.

The slight pause then hushed resumption in the ork's conversation, as well as the entire table turning to look, had been a theme of Tony's trip down here. Arriving at the public entrance to the Underground that the autonav indicated, he'd spent a minute or so waiting at the tour kiosk, hoping that the female ork tour guide inside would be willing to help him find the place. She had finally looked up, pointed a long finger at a LED sign saying “NEXT TOUR: 3:00” then turned her attention back to the screamsheet she was reading. “Self guided’s offline till next week. Tickets for the guided go on sale fifteen minutes before,” she said without looking up. And not a minute sooner wasn’t said, but was implied by her body language.

“I’m not wanting a tour,” Tony said, more patiently than he felt. The headache that had retreated from the painkillers and beer at the Landing was mounting a counterattack, and he wasn’t in the mood to beat back the standoffish passive-aggressiveness the tour guide radiated. “Can you tell me if Gunter’s is open? And how to get to it?”

“He’s probably open. Go down, you’ll see it,” she said, hooking a thumb back to the stylized brick archway that led to the Underground. She still didn’t look up.

It didn’t help that he understood the attitude. As he walked through the archway and down the stairs, he could only shake his head at it, albeit slowly from the headache. Sam, one night when both of them had way too much to drink, had told him where he was on the Night. His parents worked for the Company, and it treated them well. Dad was an crop engineer. He called them up, and they sent a couple of security guys out with shotguns; they stood out in front of the house. My dad sat in my room that night with a pistol he borrowed from them. Wasn’t the same for other kids I knew he said gruffly, looking into a half empty glass of whiskey. I remember not going to school for the rest of the year ‘cause a couple of kids were killed. People were dragged out of their house, beat up in their yard a few blocks over. It was bad, but it wasn’t nothin’ like what happened up here. Not as many of us to piss people off like there are up here..

And its not like the people that live down here don’t remember, Tony thought, coming to a broad, mall like area at the bottom of the stairs. He saw Gunter’s shingle hung at the far end of the broad space, written in neon. The shops that were open down here were staffed by orks and trolls. Tony felt more than saw the stares as he walked down the promenade. He’s not wearing the stuff, he imagined them thinking. So what’s he doing down here?. Just here for some ribs he felt like yelling as he walked, soft footfalls echoing in the empty, closed space. Tony’s outfit probably gave an impression of disposable income A few orks were walking in the opposite direction, and he felt their stares as well. It took some control to just keep walking and not turn around.

Walking up to the order counter and scanning the overhead LED menu, no one came from the kitchen. Tony heard a heavy sigh from behind him, and the troll that had been cleaning the tables began to walk toward the counter. Tony wasn’t a small human, right at 1.8 meters and almost a hundered kilos, but this troll’s leg probably weighed more than that and was defiantly broader than he was. Added to the sour look on his face, Tony got the impression that the troll might just snap him in half if he didn’t order properly “Wadda want?” the troll asked in a broad, deep voice as he rounded the counter.

“Three racks, dry rub. Hot sauce on the side, all to go” Tony said, trying not to be intimidated by this guy’s presence while conveying some respect. He’d roomed with Salvo at the Academy (that name took actual thought to say), and had forgotten the type of physical presence that a troll could convey. The murmured conversation at the table to the side ceased as he ordered.

“You sureya want da hot?” the troll said, raised eyebrow pushing skin up around the horns prodruding on his forehead. Looking around and yelling in a language that Tony didn’t understand, the troll received a yelled reply in the same language from a shriller voice. “It’ll beabit before da ribs ‘r ready. Saya 45 minuts o’ so ‘till dey ready,” the troll said in a slow, deliberate voice.

“Yeah, I want the hot,” Tony said, not really caring if it would fry his tongue off. “I’ll wait for the ribs. Add a beer onto that,” he said. The troll pulled a large polycarbonate mug from a cooler under the counter and drew a dark brew from a tap next to it. “Only ‘ne we got,” the troll said, handing the cold mug across the counter.

Taking a sip, Tony nodded approvingly. Good as they say it is he thought, taking the beer back to a table near the counter to wait out the ribs. The reinforced plastic chairs were wider and taller than normal, and Tony’s feet just grazed the floor.

“Relax a bit, holler if ‘ou want a refill,” the troll said, tidying up the counter. He hadn’t looked up. “’leave it or not, we don’ta bite. You ain’t from ‘round here, ‘ight?”

Tony smiled and shook his head slightly. “From down south,” he said, putting his drawl on and grinning. “What gave it away?”

“Dry ‘ub. No’ne up ‘ere order’s it dat way,” the troll said. “Accent’s familiar, but de taste marks ya. ’ou ‘ant de mild. De hot masks the flavor doo much. Brew goot?” he continued, continuing to wipe the counter down.

“Very,” Tony said. He really wasn’t a dark beer fan, but two long pulls had stopped the hangover in its tracks, and the relaxation from dialog helped further. “Any chance I can get some to carry with me?” he added.

In the end, it took the entire 45 minutes, a refill for Tony and one for Gunter, a visit from Gunter’s wife who was working the kitchen, and several hooted comments from the orks at the side table before Tony figured out there wasn’t any beer available to sell. “Saturday’s big night fo us. Can’t let wat we got go,” Gunter said. “Got a siz-pak do sell you, but dat’s de most we can ‘pare. Dat’s the beauty ‘bout dis bidness,” he said, with a smile that showed a lot of teeth “, people, ‘dey come find you.”

14:55:06 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Brandishing a six pack of plastic bottles in a carry ring, along with a large styrofoam box in the other hand, Tony walked into the Spirit. Almost all of the lunch crowd had left, and only the few early evening people were present. Sam was behind the bar, cleaning and restocking bottles. “Hoi old man. You did say you wanted a double?” Tony said, catching his attention.

14:57:18 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – The Unbottled Spirit, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

"Hell yes, m'boy, bring that grub on down!" Sam slung the towel over his shoulder, patting the bar in front of him. Reaching into the cooler behind the bar, he produced a pair of frosted glasses. Tony slid the styrofoam containers across the bar before doing the honors of pouring. Together, the two men clinked glasses before tucking into the ribs. Gunter's hot was hot, and by the end of the meal Tony's lips felt like they'd been smeared with battery acid. He took another healthy swig from his beer.

"So, tell me what was so important when you called yesterday?"

Sam grunted through a full mouth, mopping his brow.

"Same thing as always: trouble. You learn to listen for things in this business, feel the currents of the undertow. And it ain't looking good. There's a storm coming, a war. Remember back when Fuchi NorthAm went down? It rained blood in the shadows. Same thing's going to happen. We've got a lot of undergrowth in the shadows, dry brush choking the weeds. As is nature's way, the fire that's coming will sweep away the old to make way for the new. The fire has no respect for what get's caught in the forest. I tell you to check six all the time. But this time it's different. I already know what's behind you. The only question is: you going to be quick enough to out run it?"

23:53:14 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Enroute to Barrens

John paused at Max's comment, thinking about the meet with Blaze and Samwell. Why had the reservation been under Ranger? Was someone trying to let him know they knew his past? He didn't know Cross, the fixer who'd set up the meet. He made a mental note to check that with Finn next time he saw his friend, see what he knew.

Finally he nodded, "I hear ya, chummer. It could be just a big fraggin' coincidence, or some major player herdin' us in the direction they want. Thing is, how do we know? Sometimes ya just have to wade on in to be able ta tell how fraggin' deep the water is. Shallow or deep, ya gotta be careful either way.

"Whichever it turns out ta be, why not get paid twice fer the same fraggin' job? A guy inside would make my job easier, and may end up bein' the only way you get outta there with the Wong kid, if it comes down to that."

"Left here?"

23:55:03 Tuesday, 09 January, 2063 - Enroute to Barrens

"Yes."

They were getting closer and it was getting harder for Max to concentrate. Between his rising anxioty and the rising background count of the barrens it was all Max could do to find his way.

"Your right on both accounts." he said in reference to the direction to take and having himself on the inside. "See if you can get me in on the payroll for the run and I will scope everything out on the inside."

It would be very dangerous, he knew, but he also knew it was the best chance they likely had to get everyone out safely.

23:14:58 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

Thirty grand was a lot of money… but nothing high enough to get whacked for. At least, not usually. It was considered bad business for a J to double cross his hired hands, but Ludmilla had seen it happened way too often. People got greedy. People thought they were too smart for their own good. The only sure way to walk out of the meet would be to have some insurance policy… something to oblige the Johnson to play nice. She quickly consulted the timer displayed on her cybereyes. She extended her hand, palm up, toward Byte.

“The data.”

With her other hand, she took her psec out, and started thumbing through to open a connection with her workshop computer. Her plan was simple, but could also easily backfire. But with so little time, she couldn’t think of anything else.

23:16:22 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

Byte looked at his friend, but it was Scratch who replied. "Uh, you need the key too?"

Ludi glanced up from her psec. "Ch`to?"

"You said we should encrypt the paydata, right? Byte said we already did it, then you asked for the data. You want to see what we got, or just see how we did it?"

Ludi thought for a minute before closing the connection to her workshop. "Nyet. Time is short, so I will take your word that it has been done." She dropped the psec into her pocket, checked the time display again. "We should be going soon."

Both gangers nodded and Scratch began to pack his deck and other gear. Glancing over his shoulder, the young orc asked, "So how you wanna roll? You hold the key and watch our backs, while me and Byte make the trade?"

23:17:03 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown
Taking a new cigarette out of her pack, Ludi spoke without lighting it yet.

"Actually, you and I alone will make the trade. Best and safest way to do it is to have Byte take the key, and stash it in a locker at some bus terminal. A place with numberpad locks, not key."

She lit her cigarette.

"Once you and I are safely out of the meet, we'll tell your J about the pickup spots for the key."

Taking a long drag as she walked, she bit her lower lip.

"Hopefully, we'll all walk out in one piece."

Hopefully.

23:31:57 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Racing Towards Destiny

Speeding down the highway on his Yamaha Rapier, Blaze’s mind was racing even faster than his bike. Klaus Ebert had been as good as his word, and with the help of the troll detective, the two of them had finally been able to track down Melissa. As far as they could tell, she was safe, but behind a magical ward they didn’t dare breach for fear of alerting any potentially hostile forces to their arrival.

Glancing in his right rearview mirror, he saw ETG trailing behind him, riding flanker on his Harley Scorpion. When he’d asked the street samurai what it meant, the troll had responded that it stood for El Trollo Gigante.

Blaze wasn’t exactly sure if the Spanish word for ‘Troll’ was ‘Trollo’. For that matter, he wasn’t sure if ‘gigante’ was correct Spanish for what he presumed meant ‘giant’. Then again, Blaze didn’t speak Spanish in the first place and hey, if that’s what the big mean troll backing him up with the very large automatic weapon wanted to call himself, he wasn’t going to argue with him. He did think it was more than a little cliché that the troll carried around his Ingram White Knight LMG in a modified trombone case, but again, if it made the guy happy, who was he to say otherwise?

He wished, not for the first time, that Alleycat was with him this evening. Her assistance and companionship over the past week had been a great help and comfort to him, and he wished she had been able to be here to help him see this through. He had not heard from her for several days now, and was starting to get worried about her. He wondered yet again what could have happened to her, and where she could possibly be?

That was a problem for later, he firmly reminded himself. The problem he had to focus on now was the one that had consumed him for almost a week, ever since he’d been made aware of it. But now, it was finally about to be resolved.

Tonight, he had finally located his cousin and he was going to rescue her from the deep drek she was in, tonight. And God help anyone who got in his way. Grimly revving the throttle, he increased his speed, his signature coat making him a red streak racing off into the dark Seattle night.

A light rain began to fall.

23:33:19 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Making A Difference in the World

Cao Jaan stood on the roof, gazing up into the sky as a light rain began to fall. Despite the rain, the moon shone bright and full in the sky, casting its glow on the streets. He heard quiet footsteps behind him, and he knew without turning that it was the shaman.

She had been an invaluable help to him since he’d found her, working tirelessly and diligently to help heal the sick and feed the hungry. Her energy and zeal was unusual, for it was obvious from her bearing that the streets were not her home. She worked with passion, almost too much passion. He suspected that in her own way, she was attempting to atone for her past sins much as he was, but he respected her privacy and had chosen to keep silent.

Lady Dove looked over to the middle of the roof, where a skylight with years of accumulated dirt and rust sat, allowing her to see ever so faintly into the warehouse below. She smiled even though none could see her, down at those she had just helped to heal, shelter and feed, happy to know that for the first time in many years, she was living to give back to the world, instead of taking from it.


Her voice floated through the night air quietly and gently, rising over the quiet pitter-patter of the rain to be heard. “She seems to be doing much better. She’s resting now, God knows she needs it.”

Without turning around, he nodded. The ‘she’ the shaman referred to was a runaway with no story she would tell but too much fear in her eyes to be without one. When he’d seen her, he was partly ashamed to admit that he’d hesitated, not wanting to risk bringing trouble down on the warehouse. But she’d come bearing a note and a token from a good acquaintance of his, and he could not in good conscience refuse.

Footsteps coming up the stairs caused them both to turn, her in surprise and he in expectation. With every instinct in him screaming trouble was just around the corner, Cao Jaan was glad he’d hired this man to assist him in dealing with whatever troubles would arise.

The clouds slowly crept across the moon, gradually obscuring its glow.

23:36:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 – Out of the Frying Pan…

Knight stepped out of the stairwell onto the roof, the shadows from the now covered moon partly obscuring his face. “Good evening Mr. Cao, Lady Dove,” he said, dipping slightly into a bow.

They both smiled at the elf in response. His charming, gallant manner was out of place in this world, almost from a time long forgotten, and yet even those who could barely understand his noble manner of speech appreciated it for the link it provided to a world of nobility that had long since passed by.

“I have completed my evening rounds, and I am pleased to inform you both that thus far, it appears all is well. I believe we shall have another quiet evening tonight as well.”

Cao Jaan nodded. “Good.”

“Jaan,” the shaman said slowly, as if she was afraid to ask the question, “are you expecting some kind of trouble?”

Hesitantly, Knight supported the shaman’s inquiry. “Indeed Mr. Cao…I must echo the fair Lady Dove’s question. It has been so quiet since I have been here. I daresay my curiosity compels me to ask why you deemed it necessary to hire me to assist you in the first place. From everything I can see, you seem to have matters well in hand. Since I have arrived, there has been nothing but quiet.”

Cao Jaan didn’t answer them for a moment, then smiled at them both and looked at the sky, the rain falling gently across his face. “Do you feel that? Feel the quiet air, the still silence of the softly falling rain?”

Knight and Lady Dove looked at each other in confusion, then back and Cao Jaan, nodding tentatively.

“Our situation this past week has been like this rain. Only the calm before the storm.”

His words seemed almost eerily prophetic as scant moments later, the sky darkened as the moon was fully obscured by the clouds. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the three figures on the rooftop just before thunder roared through the air, almost as if heralding their presence.

The storm increased its strength, and the once quiet and gentle rain gave way to a pounding symphony of heavy acid raindrops battering the steel and concrete jungle below.

00:05:09 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

A clear and calm sky had turned into a light rain, which apparently was only there to announce a driving storm that still ruled the skies when Max finally informed John they had arrived at their destination.

Pulling to a stop outside a large rundown warehouse in the Barrens, the pair surveyed the scene. Through the pouring rain they could see that there were lights on in the warehouse, and a large number of people moving around inside.

They both looked at each other nervously, wondering if that meant a proportionately large amount of trouble, until John got his bearings. With a start, he realized that he knew this place. Well, knew of it might be a better way to put it.

He’d heard on his last job in the Barrens that someone had recently opened up a homeless shelter of sorts around the area. From what he could tell, this was it. There was certainly no legitimacy to the place; it wasn’t supported by any kind of organization, which was obvious to even a casual observer.

As for who’d started it, the guy was supposed to be some kind of hardcase, but he’d traded in guns and bullets for bread and blankets. Apparently he’d made peace with the local gang, which if John recalled correctly, went by the name of the Crimson Blades…or Sickles. Something like that.

Anyway, the warehouse now existed as kind of an underground halfway house of sorts for street people. It wasn’t much, but from what John had heard, the guy tried his best to give people a roof over their heads and help them work together to put food on the table in as safe and functional an environment as he could provide. From everything he’d heard, the guy wasn’t even running anything on the side; he was straight up one of the good guys, just trying to make the world a better place.

Of course, people said that about the Universal Brotherhood too, and look what happened there… Quickly John shoved that unpleasant thought aside as he and Max got out of the van to do a little firsthand recon. Some memories were best left buried.

The warehouse was huge, easily two or three stories and covering a large chunk of the city block it was located on. Catching one of the squatters making his way to the building, Max charmed the man into revealing the name of the owner/operator of this warehouse. Mr. Cao , was how he was known to the people in the area.

Beyond his name though, the guy didn’t know anything else, other than to confirm that Mr. Cao was one of the good guys, always trying to help people and constantly sacrificing to make it happen. Letting him go, Max and John stared up at the imposing structure.
From everything they could see on the physical and astral, the coast was clear. From everything John had heard before and the squatter confirmed, Mr. Cao was one of the good guys, polite, kind, gentle, strong, the whole nine yards. They should be able to just walk right in there and ask for his help, and even have a reasonable expectation of receiving it for no charge.

But something deep inside John, a lifetime’s worth of runner instincts perhaps, practically screamed at him that tonight, of all nights, was absolutely not the night to leave the arsenal in the car. Appearances can be deceiving the instincts said, and far too often, getting deceived was only a half step away from getting dead.

The rain had increased its fury, whipping through the streets.

00:08:10 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Much to Max's suprise this place really did seem to be on the up and up. From what John knew and from what they could find out this Mr. Cao was by all accounts a decent man. None of this made a whole lot of sense, but since Max first stepped foot in the shadows not making sense seemed to be the norm.

Good guy or bad guy this Mr. Cao had to know something about Keira and Nora and Max needed to find out what. It was too much to hope that the two young women were still inside, so Max put that out of his head as he looked up at the large building. A storm had been building and it's fury seemed to about be released on the two men standing near the van watching the shadows of people flicker back and forth inside.

"I would guess that whoever is inside knows about us already." He said out load figuring the homeless man they had talked to earlier would have informed those in the building that people were outside asking questions.

"So that kind of takes stealth right out, besides the fact that the moment I push through that Astral Barrier everyone inside will know we are there. I know this sounds pretty stupid, but should we just try the front door?"

00:08:55 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John stood in the pouring rain, water dripping from the bill of the battered Detroit Tigers cap. The tip of the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth glowed brightly as he inhaled, reflected in the mirrored shields covering his eyes. "I dunno, Max. Somethin' just don't fraggin' seem right."

"What do you mean, John? Everyone we have spoken to says that Mr. Cao is legitimate. You yourself confirmed that you have heard the same."

"Yeah, but the fraggers what nabbed Keira were pros, right? Sure, they didn't kill nobody, but they didn't have to. If this Cao Jaan's so fraggin' legit, would he let guys like that in his shelter? Either he don't know what's goin' in his own place, or he's in on it too. Either way we gotta..."

"Be careful. Yes, I seem to have heard that somewhere before," Max smiled and pushed pale, wet hair out of his eyes. "What do you suggest?"

"I don't know. I'm not sayin' we shouldn't just walk right in an' ask to talk ta Cao. We just need to be ready fer trouble."

So saying, John walked to the van and removed the canvas satchel from under the passenger seat. He opened the bag, quickly grabbed the Ingram Smartgun, letting the system info flood across his field of vision via the smartlink. It was fully loaded with regular ammunition. Closing the bag, he slipped the strap over his shoulder and walked back to the shaman.

"Unless you got any better ideas?"

13:45:01 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Seattle Aquarium, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

As the silence streched on, it gradually dawned on Eyes that there was nothing he could do. He had been handed a golden opprotunity to make amends for the biggest mistake of his life, only to apparently make an even bigger one. At this point the only thing he could imagine Angela doing was walking right back out of his life, and the two of them would probably never speak again. There's something oddly freeing about completely screwing up: at least you know exactly who to blame.

Eyes stood, watching Angela, waiting for someone to break the silence. There just wasn't anything else for him to say.

00:08:55 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max moved to the back of the van with John and retrieved the Roomsweeper from his own bag. He had barely even practiced with the weapon, he had bought it only for self defense when he visited Keira at The Respite in the barrens. Pretty ridiculous considering he was much more dangerous that the gun he carried, but even a shaman can fatigue.

"No not really," he said in answer to John's question. "We have only received information when we have been upfront and forthright. I don't see why we shouldn't continue to be. But that is no reason not to be prepared." He thought it over as he looked at the superimposed image of the material world and astral space, the rain of the storm matting his long white hair to his head and back. "I will go with you as close as the barrier, if we don't get shot outright you can let who ever inside know I am coming through."

23:17:03 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

Scratch nodded while he finished packing, and Byte said, "K'nibbitz, g'lette. K'nibbitz."

Ludi frowned slightly, but nodded, taking another drag off of her smoke. Finally Scratch clicked the case closed and slung the strap over his shoulder. "A'ight, we're ready." Nodding again, the russian fighter turned and opened the office door.

Byte took the hint and led the way back through the storage area and out into the main bar, pausing only to say something to the bouncer who had let them in earlier. The big human nodded and closed the door behind them.

As she stood waiting for Byte, Ludmilla noticed that Beholder had finished their set and the next band had taken their place. A young woman in a plaid skirt and Funhouse t-shirt stood talking to the singer as the crowd milled in front of the stage. As they finished speaking he turned away and she checked with the other band members who each nodded. She then bounced to the front of the stage and grabbed the microphone.

"All right, Funhouse! Are you ready to ROCK!" She paused as the crowd responded with luke-warm enthusiasm. "I said: are you fragging READY!" Slightly louder cheers caused the girl to jump up and down and point back at the band. "Out of the ashes of bands like Din, Crepidice, and UltraMega I present — for the first time anywhere — M!NDR!OT!" As the band started to play (a chugging bass riff accompanied by pounding drums and a cyclical guitar lick), the girl in the Funhouse shirt took two quick steps back, than ran and dove into the crowd below.

Ludi was just thinking that one of the band names the girl had mentioned sounded familiar, when Byte returned. Scratch, not bothering to attempt to make himself heard over the band, motioned towards the door and raised his eyebrows. Ludi nodded, turning to leave, though she continued to watch the stage.

The lead singer had been standing with his back to the crowd, nodding his head in time to the music. His long, black hair fell in loose curls down the back of his black synthleather jacket. Black jeans were tucked into big, black motorcycle boots. Just as the russian woman and her youthful companions passed, the music changed tempo and the singer turned — and made eye contact. His dark eyes widened in shock, and he paused, all of his stage-presence vanishing.

It lasted only a heartbeat before he recovered, though he was clearly stunned. The man raised his arms to either side and approached the mic, his swagger returning. Behind him, Ludi could see the other band members glance at each other in confusion. She was confused too. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but she didn't think she knew the man. With one final glance over her shoulder, she held the curtain aside for the gangers and walked out.

She nodded at Joey the troll as her little group exited. Fishing around in her pocket, she approached the coat/weapons check and handed the girl her tag. As she waited for her weapon, the music changed tempo again and the singer began to sing in a raw voice.

"And you stare at me,
In your Jesus Christ pose.
Arms held out,
Like you've been carrying a load.
And you swear to me,
You don't want to be my sla-ave!
But you're staring at me,
Like I need to be saved.

In your Jesus Christ pose!
Arms held out!
In your Jesus Christ pose!
Thorns and shroud!
Like it's the coming of the Lord!"

23:18:44 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

Both of her rough hands set on the counter, Ludmilla started to drum with her fingers, following the beat of the music. Her head bobbed slightly up and down as her body swayed ever so discreetly to the rhythm. Although still rather ticked off by the turn of events, she found the music soothing in a certain sense. It allowed her to evacuate some of the raw emotion she had bottled up.

As the girl at the counter went to retrieve Ludi’s “hardware”, she noticed for the first time that her fingers were hurting. She had done a lot of minute work in the past few days… that and the general stress of her lifestyle probably didn’t help. Maybe it was arthritis. She remembered her mom having it in her hands at an early age. Not like it mattered… Nowadays, it was curable. Worst came to worst, one could always get brand new shiny hands that would never hurt.

Flexing her fingers a few time, she pushed the thought in the corner of her mind. She had to get her game face on. Of course, in the past, Ludi had provided security for Vory operations, but always as part of a team. This was her very first solo work. Well… she wasn’t actually “alone” par se, but if the drek ever hit the fan, she somehow doubted Scratch would tip the balance. Russian military doctrines never focused on defense, and Ludmilla’s VIP protection training had taken place a very long time ago… and it had only been a brief course. Soldiers like her weren’t expected to perform duties like that. Nevertheless, she still believed firmly there was nothing she could not accomplish. What she might lack in training, she’d make up in on the spot intuition and instinct.

Reaching for the still holstered Ares Predator, she took it with her right hand as the left one parted her jacket open, revealing for a brief moment the shoulder harness she wore under her clothes. Snapping the weapon back into place, she gave a quick smile to the girl and followed the two deckers out the door and unto the sidewalk.

Byte was about to cross the street when she caught him by his sleeve. Her grip was firm, yet didn’t seem aggressive.

“I just want to be clear. You stash it, and send me a message as soon as it’s done, da?”

Flicking her half smoked cigarette in the street, she turned her back to the decker, motioning to Scratch to follow her. She hated using her own car for this sort of operation… but she simply had no other choice. As soon as she could, she’d have to contact Miki and try to get him to “trade” it for a different one.

She approached the Comet, starting it from a few feet away.

“Keep it short and simple. Give them the data, and the info, tell them what the deal is, and we leave. The fast we do this, the better it will be for everyone.”

00:10:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Nodding at Max’s words, John shouldered the duffle. “All right chummer, standing in the rain ain’t getting us anywhere but wet, so let’s get going.”

Turning up his jacket collar to keep the rain off of him, John trudges through the rain. Although he was alert, he couldn’t help the images that flashed through his mind. Nora as a little kid, almost growing older in front of his eyes. He remembered the good times and the bad, the fights and the failures. It saddened him to think of all the times he hadn’t been there for her, and just how badly he’d failed her as an uncle. He hoped that when all this was over, maybe they’d be able to mend their fractured relationship.

Of course, he had to find her first. Hopefully, this visit to Mr. Cao would bring him one step closer to that. Mentally, he resolved that he wouldn’t fail her this time, no matter what it took.

Arriving at the outer limit of the barrier, Max stopped. “OK John, the barrier ends here. They probably know we’re here anyway, but there’s no point raising any alarms, right?”

John nodded. “I’ll let them know you’re coming chummer.” He pauses, hesitating, then adds, “If you hear any funny stuff, use your judgment. We don’t have any reason to think this is a set up, but just in case…” he trails off.

Max nods. Sometimes there was nothing to say. If this was a setup, more than likely they were both dead anyway. Sometimes you just did what you had to and took your chances. Without another word, John turned and walked up to the door of the warehouse on the northeast side of the warehouse, a personnel door next to a giant one that must have been used for trucks or something like that.

It’s funny how quickly life changes. Only a couple days ago Max was just a college professor fighting to save his career in the ivory tower of academia. Now he was standing in a rainstorm in the middle of the Redmond Barrens, watching a professional criminal he was starting to call friend head into an abandoned warehouse alone. Before, he’d spend his days grading papers, now he was following up a lead in a criminal investigation that had already lead him into some seriously quasi-legal behavior and was sure to lead him into more before it was over.

Or maybe he’d already crossed into the realm of criminal behavior? Certainly, standing around in the rain with a gun in his hands wasn’t exactly the most convincing picture of an entirely innocent citizen. As he watched John walk towards Mr. Cao’s warehouse, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were going to get a lot uglier before the night was over.

The rain intensified, sending a large burst of water down Max’s neck under his jacket, causing him to shiver. Lightning flashed just before the thunder boomed, and the professor fervently hoped he was wrong.

Knocking on the front door, the door opened to reveal a human teenager of about fifteen or sixteen wearing gang colors. John recognized it as the logo of the Crimson Sickles.

“Whaddya want?” the teen asked bluntly.

“Is Mr. Cao in?” John answered calmly.

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends who’s askin’.”

“Tell Mr. Cao that John Standard and friend wants to see him.”

“That yer friend over there?” the ganger asks, motioning towards Max, who’s waiting off in the distance.

“Yeah.”

“Why ain’t he coming wit you?”

“He doesn’t want to set off the magical barrier you guys have set up,” John coolly said, figuring there was no point revealing any more about Max than he had to.

Looking over John from head to toe the kid murmurs into a radio that there were two visitors, one possibly magical, seeking admittance. Privately, John was impressed with the setup. While not real security by any means, this Mr. Cao had obviously done his best to keep his place reasonably secure.

A response must have came in, because the kid nods and says, “Tell your friend to come over. They’ll be expecting him.”

Seeing John waving for him to come ahead, Max walks forward, pushing through the barrier with no resistance at all. Apparently the creator of it was expecting him. Arriving at the door, he hears the guard in front say to them, “Walk straight and turn left into the interview room, first one on your left. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

Nodding calmly, the two men play it cool, as the ganger steps aside and they enter a surprisingly cavernous warehouse. Shelves, forklifts, boxes, crates, and oil drums are scattered throughout the interior of the warehouse, and there is a staircase immediately to their left as they enter and another one on the right, on the opposite end of the warehouse.

Offices dot the eastern wall; like most manufacturing warehouses the walls only come about waist high, the rest of the walls consist of panes of clear transparent glass, allowing a clear view into and out of the offices. Through the shelves, they can see a few loading docks on the west side. Overhead, the second floor seems mostly confined to being a ring that clings to the walls and runs all the way around the warehouse.

Walking straight to the room the ganger instructed, the pair sees a pair of catwalks on the second floor running north-south that connects the north and south sections of the second floor, and three catwalks intersecting those two going east-west, doing the same thing. Above the catwalks is a giant skylight, allowing a clear and surprisingly clean view of the sky above. Rain steadily drops out the skylight, creating a hard sound that resonates through the open spaces.

Despite the hour, the warehouse reveals large amounts of people in varying states of activity. Some are sitting staring blankly into space, others are huddled around fires started in garbage cans or oil drums, others are talking, still others are eating a little food, or lost in varying states of slumber. One notable thing is the absence of gambling or drinking, and there appears to be no substance abuse of any kind, drugs or chips, either.

Turning into the room, it is a simple room, empty of anything save a few old plastic chairs.

“Have a seat,” the ganger instructs, having followed them to the room. “They’ll be with your shortly.”

About a minute after they’d settled themselves into their chairs, they saw through the glass windows of the room a trio of figures approaching them.

Leading the way was a lithe, graceful elf with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and a dark red trench coat with a black Ivy design crawling up it. To John’s experienced eyes, it was obvious he was carrying some kind of sword underneath his coat as well.

The second was a very attractive human woman with light blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, with a well proportioned figure covered up by a white laboratory type coat.

Trailing the three of them was a short human Asian man with a shaved head and dressed street casual. He moved with a confident, easy grace, and with a warrior’s posture.

Max also noted with interest that the woman and the elf were magically active, and figured it must have been one of those two who set up the barrier he had passed through.

Entering the room, the three of them spread out, the Asian man in the center, the woman on his left, closest to the door, and the elf on his right.

Politely, the Asian man nodded at them and said, “My name is Mr. Cao. I hear you have requested my presence. Please tell me, who are you two and what is your business with me?”

00:10:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

It wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time that Max would wonder just what the hell he had gotten himself into. A few weeks, even days ago he would never have known that places like this really existed, but here he was in the middle of the barrens, in an old "abandoned" wharehouse, about to be interrogated by who knows what type of people. He figured he would just tell them the truth, the magically active ones could probably tell if he was lying anyway, an there was no way he and John would be able to fight their way out if things went badly so he looked to the man who identified himself as Mr. Cao.

"Hopefully not much to tell you the truth. Two days ago my friend Keira McKay was abducted from The Respite Soup Kitchen. I do not know why, but I think it has something to do with a clinic. I tracked her and another girl astrally to this location where their trail ended at the Astral Barrier set up outside. My friend and I did some legwork and found that you and your people here seemed to be on the up and up, so we wanted to know what you know about our friends." Max proceeds to give their hosts a full description of both Keira and Nora and waited to see how they responded.

00:15:37 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John watched as the mis-matched trio walked into the small room. Judging from the way the two men moved, he knew that he and Max could be in trouble if things went South. While he was still fast, he wasn't nearly as dangerous in close-quarters as he used to be. He also knew that even though Max was brave enough, he'd probably never fired that Roomsweeper at anything other than a paper target...if that. The grip on the thing didn't show the first signs of wear.

As the group spread out, the old runner caught the eye of the elf in red and nodded a short greeting. Just to show the guy he knew, one warrior to another. He then slowly and casually lit a cigarette, trying to keep his hands steady so as not to betray the fact that he'd triggered his wires.

"My name is Mr. Cao. I hear you have requested my presence. Please tell me, who are you two and what is your business with me?"

Max quickly answered, so John listened quietly, keeping his eyes on the other group. As the shaman spoke, John had to suppress a smile. The first few times he and the elf worked together Max had been reserved and nervous. Now, as he grew more comfortable and confident (and maybe resigned to his state) he'd revealed himself to be very persuasive and charming. If John knew one thing, it was how to fit in on the streets, but it was Max who'd talked that squatter into telling them about Cao.

After Max had explained the situation, and how the two had come to be here at Cao's shelter, the old samurai and the former professor waited anxiously for the other group to respond.

13:50:00 Friday 12 January, 2063 - Seattle Aquarium, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Sometimes there just isn’t anything left to say. When things are going so well that no mere words can describe the wondrous sensations leaping through one’s heart, when all is right with the world and to even whisper would destroy the still, precious sense of peace and contentment that resonates through the air, silence is a blessing indeed. This was not one of those times.

This was one of those silences practically shaking with uncertainty and ambiguity, one of those silences that was almost painful as the seconds ticked by in their entirety. With his Math SPU’s clock ticking away in his vision, the seconds dragged on particularly slowly and painfully for James, each tick of the seconds passing weighing heavier on his heart.

Sure, he could take cold comfort in knowing that he knew exactly who was to blame for this, but that was the same kind of cold comfort as being butt naked in Antarctica as opposed to the middle of Seattle. Yes there was no one to see you except maybe the penguins, and if you were really unlucky, the polar bears (and probably whatever corp research teams were out there to find new and creative ways to exploit the environment), but when you were freezing your hoop off, those things just didn’t really seem all that comforting.

Actually, right about now James wasn’t sure if he might be better off freezing his hoop off butt naked in the middle of Antarctica, because at least then he wouldn’t have to see the pain in Angela’s deep blue eyes, which were luminous with yet to fall tears.

Abruptly she stood, her back to him for a few moments, and when she turned to face him again her eyes were dry and hard as stone. Unsurprisingly, the right to see her cry was something he had blown (and how!) just a few short minutes before. Sometimes it was amazing just how badly one could screw up in just a couple of minutes. Dryly, Eyes made a note to self to try and not blow things this badly and this quickly IF (lots of emphasis on the ‘if’ in his note to self) he ever had another chance to set things right with Angela.

“Let’s go,” were the only words she said.

Yep, she’s going to make me break the silence. Damn it! What the heck do I say now? Hell, what can I say now? Eyes thought ruefully.

Inexperienced with women as he was, it was still painfully obvious even to Eyes that he had blown things in a most spectacular fashion, and in the time honored tradition of male-female relationships, Angela was going to let him flounder around and while he tried to fix it. That is, assuming he cared enough to try and fix it. And from the frosty tone of her voice and the look in her eyes, it was absolutely crystal clear that he damn well better. And soon.

23:22:19 Saturday January 13, 2063; The Fun House, Downtown

Scratch nodded at Ludi's advice, then both watched as Byte drove past in a battered Jackrabbit with mis-matched body panels. When the small electric vanished around the corner, they turned back to the idling Comet and got in. Ludi quickly geared-up, securing the equipment she'd left behind. When that was complete, she put the car into gear and glanced at the young orc. "Where to?"

23:56:04 Saturday January 13, 2063; E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Ludi pulled the Comet to a halt near the yard's gate. Next to the gate was a small guard house with darkened windows. A faded sign read:

NYK Shipmanagement Pte Ltd, Staging Lot A-6
Authorized Personnel Only
Visitors Please Check In

Looking beyond the gate, the Russian woman could see row upon row of large plasteel shipping containers, some stacked 2 high. Nearby the site was a small 2-story office and a large warehouse and distribution center (judging by the number of loading dock bays). Opposite that was the bridge they had crossed to get here.

Ludi reached into her jacket and quickly slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Thumbing the small tab on the earpiece, she shifted back and forth from low-light to thermo, as she scouted as much of the location as possible from the parked car. On her second pass, she detected a large heat source from further in-lot. Switching to low-light, she saw that it was some sort of large hauler, like a truck on stilts. Probably used to move the containers around. The heat seemed to be coming form the engine, so she assumed it was idling. Just as she tried to zoom in to see if anyone was in the cockpit, the hauler's lights came on. If not for her flare comp, she would have been seeing stars.

Next to her, Scratch swallowed loudly. "I guess we're expected, right?" The young orc started as the razor-wire topped gate began to roll aside. A spotlight from the hauler switched on, and a circle of light quickly crawled across the ground until it stopped on the Comet.

00:15:58 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Cao waited patiently for Max to finish. Keira's name being mentioned briefly caused his serene looking expressing to momentarely perk up, but he quickly composed himself as Max finished speaking. He wasn't exactly happy to be in here instead of out, helping the others outside to find some warmth. That both were armed and asking questions about a friend didn't improve the situation at all.

"Keira is a good friend of mine, and her presence here would not be difficult to determine. You have described her well, physically, but I wonder if you can tell me more about her?" Cao said in lightly accented English, keeping his focus on Max.

"You'll pardon me if I don't necessarly believe two well armed men coming in the middle of the night are out for the best interests of my friends and charges," he continued, now passing his gaze between John and Max

00:20.05 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max had been studying the man's aura as he spoke and his heart nearly skipped a beat when Mr. Cao spoke of Keira. He wracked his brain trying to remember if Keira had mentioned the man before.

"Let me start off by telling you my name, so that you can verify my identity if you haven't already. My name is Max Steiner, I am a Ph.D. in Parazoology and up until last year I was a Professor at the University of Washington. I met Keira at a fundraiser for The Empowerment Coalition. We were introduced to each other by Libby Chalmers. At that fudraiser Keira was wearing a green silken gown that her mother had made. Unfortunately her mother had recently passed on. She died in a car accident on her way to a soup kitchen in Puyallup."

Up till this point Max had been speaking like a professor lecturing his students on the simple facts of biocellular regeneration, but his voice begins to take on a different tone as he talks about the woman he had grown to know the past months. His tone is softer and less formal.

"She can be stern and unyeilding with her convictions, but to those she cares for she is kind, caring and compassionate. She will stop in the most pressing matters to give someone a soft smile or some words of encouragement or hope. She is smart, she can charm a politician and negotiate a distpute between gang members. And when she is concentrating really hard on something she has the habit of chewing on the end of a strand of her hair. In short, she is amazing."

He was so lost in his description that for a moment he forgot where he was and could only see the image of her sitting across from him in her office, chewing on a strand of hair, pencil hovering over an accounting ledger. He couldn't help but smile at the mental image.

When the image faded he looked back at the people standing across for John and himself. If Mr. Cao knew Keira he would know that the things Max talked about where true.

00:20.40 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Cao looked at Max as he described his friend. As Max's gaze focused back to the present from what he was describing, Cao found He didn't need to look to Knight or to Lady Dove to see if the man was telling the truth. Cao did not know what the Empowerment Coalition was, but if Keira were involved, it was probably something that helped others to help themselves.

Cao smiled slightly but warmly, remembering his own relationship with Keira. "Thank you. I apologize for that, but in these times it can be difficult to trust someone on their word alone. I believe that you knew her well, and I could not use better words to describe her myself." The smile was short lived, however, as Cao processed what Max had said earlier.

"And you say that she is missing now? Her and a child?" he said, leaning forward in his seat.

00:21:03 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max nods.

"That is correct. She was abducted from The Respite Soup Kitchen two days ago. The girl was abducted the day before. Keira was looking into something for the girl, who's name is Nora. Earlier tonight I tracked them using a ritual and both of their signatures led me to this warehouse, where the trail ended."

He looked at the man across from him.

"Is she here?" He asked bluntly. He needed to know.

00:21:40 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

"Keira? No, she's not here," Cao said, shaking his head. Crisscrossed frown lines wrinkled across his scalp as he looked down, then up after a moment.

"I have not seen or heard from her for several days, but that's not uncommon either. Had I known that she was in danger, I'd would have been more active. You said that this girl was tracked here as well?" Cao said, with a confused look on his face.

00:22:32 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

"Yes, they both were traced here. Is it possible they could be here without your knowledge?"

Max figured he was grasping at straws, but he knew the cord he had followed was Keira's.

00:22:47 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

"Keira? I highly doubt it. It's not like her to just be here and not help, and she'd be noticed by some of the regulars she's worked with," Cao said, shaking his head, then looking up at Knight and Lady Dove.

"The girl?" he asked them.

23:48:51 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Openwater Aquarium Supplies, 907 E Prospect St., Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Vedic screwed the cap back on to the bottle of water he was drinking from, his eyes once again scanning the nearby rooftops and the airspace in between. In the fifteen minutes he'd spent tucked against the building across the street, little had transpired to arouse his suspicion. No circling Stormcloud drones, no silhouettes hovering along rooftops or conveniently opened windows, no vehicles idling curbside. He couldn't do much about microsensors already in place, or astral surveillance, yet. The muscles along his jaw tightened momentarily. Soon. Glancing left and right again, he emerged from the shadows, crossing the street and sliding quietly through the front door of Openwater.

00:23:12 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John took the cigarette out of his mouth and sat forward. "Nora's my niece. She's been missin' for almost a week, but I only got back in town a couple days ago. Been lookin' for her since then.

"Seems she an' a friend saw somethin' they shouldn't of, and some fraggers took offense. They hid for a while, but not good enough. Nora got nabbed, but her chummer escaped and went to Keira for help. We think Keira tried to look into it, and got taken for her trouble. Right outta the Respite, right in tha fraggin' middle o' the day.

"As far as the weapons, the fragger's what snatched Keira were not amateurs. Max traced their trail here. We woulda been stupid not to come armed." The older man gave one of his sad half-smiles and continued. "But hey, you guys hold all the cards. If you need my hardware, that's fraggin' wiz with me, as long as you tell us anything you know that could help. Please." He added, after a short pause.

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

Outside the floor to ceiling windows of the dining room of Miner’s Landing a steady rain was falling. It misted across the Sound in gentle translucent curtains, blanketing the city in a soft hush of sound and moisture. Inside, the restaurant was warm, the air laden with the heady scents of roasting meats and freshly baked breads, sautéed vegetables swimming in butter, and chilled, spicy desserts. The wait staff whisked back and forth through the narrow aisles, tending to their assigned tables with low, congenial voices. Silverware clinked against plates, ice cubes tinkled against glasses, and above it all rose and fell the music of human voices, of dozens of conversations butting up against one another in discordant symphony.

Zeyda paused at the foot of the wide winding staircase leading upstairs, his eyes drifting over the scene. The shoulders of his long coat dripped water onto the floor, damp from the short walk through the rain from the parking lot. Next to him stood Rack, one of his bodyguards, in conversation with the dark haired girl behind the coat check counter. It was moments like this when Zeyda missed the old country most of all. Not because of the sights, or the smells, or the sounds, but of the familiarity of the actions, of the people gathered together for a meal. He sighed, glancing over at his bodyguard. Rack nodded, sparing one last caress for the coat check girl before leading his boss upstairs.

In contrast to the open airiness of the dining room below, the Jazz bar was a study in velvet shadows. The bar and tables of dark mahogany drank in the light from the dim overheads, the highlights washed off the brass fittings collected on the floor as puddles of gold and amber. A perpetual haze of cigar and cigarette smoke clung to narrow cones of light.

With a sigh, Zeyda shrugged the long coat from his shoulders and slid into the seat of his usual booth. Court stopped by just long enough to replace the small black ‘reserved’ placard with a cup of strong black coffee. Zeyda smiled his thanks, cradling the cup in his hands and blowing softly across the surface. He watched the tendrils of steam curl up and disappear into the shadows above the table. It was going to be a long night tonight, with a number of meetings to take care of. Not to mention any last minute business that might crop up from his regular clientele. The coffee was still hot at his first sip, bitter and welcome against the chill that lingered from outside.

If it weren’t for the business that called him here every night, this might be his most favorite place. A murmur of notes from the piano on stage brought his head around, and he smiled as the spotlight came up. Aria smiled demurely, brushing a perfectly placed strand of hair back behind her ear in a move that was simultaneously coltishly innocent and breathtakingly sultry. The sequined gown she wore slithered over curves that would have made an angel jealous, and as the piano crooned softly in the background, she leaned in close to the microphone, her blood red lips parting ever so slightly.

More than you know
More than you know
Man of my heart, I love you so
Lately I've found you on my mind
More than you know

Her husky contralto filled the smoky shadows of the bar, counterpointed perfectly by the soft dulcet tones of the baby grand. Her hands caressed the microphone as if it were her lover’s face, her eyes half lidded. Zeyda could feel the charge in the atmosphere, the stir as she let her gaze wander across the faces of the lonely.

Whether you're right
Whether you're wrong
Man of my heart, I'll string along
I need you so
More than you'll ever know

Loving you the way that I do
There's nothing I can do about it
Loving may be all you can give
But darling, I can't live without it

She was a Siren, sheathed in indigo flame, drawing the hearts of everyone in the room to her with the promise of love in her voice. It was the same every time, every night he came to hear her sing. To deal out the vicious truths and lies of his business while listening to a voice that could lull the angels to sleep. He set aside his half-empty coffee cup, recharged now by the warmth and the caffeine. Opening up the interface on his datapad, he tucked the earbud of his phone into his ear. The first call wouldn’t take long.

Oh, how I'd cry
How I'd sigh
If you got tired and said goodbye
More than I show
More than you'll ever know

23:51:02 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Openwater Aquarium Supplies, 907 E Prospect St., Downtown Seattle, UCAS

If Vedic were to look for someone with the “Talent”, the Openwater probably wouldn’t have made the short list of places to seek them out. Located in the upper part of Capitol Hill, loomed over by the Aztechnology complex just a few blocks south that dwarfed the midrise brick rowhouses in this part of downtown, the Openwater was a saltwater aquarium supply shop, catering primarily to the affluent live pet market currently in vogue, that took up a small storefront in the bottom floor of an older tan brick building.

Lit brightly from overhead ballasts, Vedic saw upon walking into the glass doors that two walls of the modestly sized shop were devoted to brightly colored fish in many sizes, swimming singly or in small groups in a variety of sized aquariums. Complementing the shimmering fauna, the walls were painted a tropical blue, overlayed with lighter shades to give a wavelike effect that caused the walls to appear to move when seen peripherally. Low volume ambient Island music from overhead speakers bolstered the theme. A third wall held various empty aquariums, supplies, and a checkout. A small door marked ‘STOCK’ marked the changover from live fish to their food.

A coffee-and-cream colored human, powerfully built and dressed in a simple grey T-shirt and jeans in the heated environment, was leaned over the sales counter reading an e-paper screamsheet as Vedic entered.

“’An I help you?” he said, looking up from the screamsheet. The voice was polite, vaguly Creole with some other accents, and similar sounding to the one Vedic had heard on his commlink earlier.

23:53:11 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Openwater Aquarium Supplies, 907 E Prospect St., Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Vedic used the time it took him to move to the counter to sweep the store, checking the exit lanes and sight lines, the ceiling corners for surveillance, the doors for any kind of anti-theft barriers, and the nearest likely weapons he could put his hands on. He ended his scan by resting his eyes on the sole occupant.

"Vedic. I have an appointment."

23:54:02 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Openwater Aquarium Supplies, 907 E Prospect St., Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Vedic used the walk well. A couple of fixed emplacement anti-theft scanners flanked the doors, but no other security devices seemed present. Few obvious weapons presented themselves on his walk down the aisle of the store, only some fist-sized plastic canisters of dubious weight considering their contents of fish treats and various salts.

The salesperson seemed to be the main antitheft device. Far shorter than Vedic at 1.5 meters or so, he defiantly wasn’t a pushover. Leaning over the counter, his arms bulged with muscle. His smile didn’t move as he pushed himself up off the counter and offered a pale, veined hand to Vedic after he spoke.

“ Thought you were da one I was lookin’ for. Call me Rosco. You mentioned this was for business...?” he said, trailing off at the end.

00:23:58 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Lady Dove smiled sympathetically at John and Max. Unlike the two men, her expression wasn’t hard to read, and John’s instincts told him that she wasn’t anything remotely resembling a professional.

His instincts were confirmed when she spoke slowly, hesitantly, looking at Mr. Cao all the while, “Well…we have had a girl about that age come here in the last few days, but she doesn’t fit the description you just gave of your niece. So I don’t know…” Her voice trails off, but she never stops looking at Mr. Cao.

She’s obviously hiding something, some tidbit of information, and John’s instincts are screaming there’s more to the story than what she just said. Even Max, used to having his students try to bulldrek him into giving them an extension, can tell there’s something very important the woman has left unsaid. Neither of them can hazard anything close to a guess as to what it is though, nor why she said something that was so glaringly easy to see through.

23:54:08 Saturday 13 January 2063 - Openwater Aquarium Supplies, 907 E Prospect St., Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Vedic hesitates just long enough for it to be apparent before shaking the offered hand.

The trust must begin somewhere.

"Yes. A business proposition. But first, truth between us. I don't know you and you do not know me, but if we are to work together, if we are to depend on one another in a crisis, we must be able to trust one another. That begins now. You know my name already. I am adept, at physical combat. Reasonable at stealth. Limited to no computer abilities. I intend to compile a team of six personnel to complement the weaknesses in my skillset. I intend to employ this team in a series of dangerous but lucrative endeavors. As of now, you're the first. Interested?"

00:24:28 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max watched the lady as she spoke for the first time. It didn't take reading her aura to tell that there was something that she wasn't telling. Max knew better than to verbally attack the woman, she didn't have the look of someone decieving them out of malice, but maybe out of worry for those she was trying to protect.

"Would you allow us to see the girl, if only to talk to her and have my friend here verify if it is his neice or not." He looked again at Mr. Cao. "I feel that you would only try to help Keira and I appreciate that, but I know the thread I followed was her's. I have no doubt of that and the thread for Scrapheap's neice was even stronger. They did at least come here."

00:24:44 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John watched Lady Dove carefully as Max spoke. The way she hesitated and looked to Cao for support, the blatant concern etched on her face... it all began to alarm him.

"What's wrong with the girl?"

00:25:00 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Before anyone could respond to John's question, a commotion by the front door caught everyone's attention.

"What the hell do you mean, he's busy right now, I have to wait outside?" An angry voice, clearly male, sliced through the warehouse, loud, clear and obviously brimming with impatience.

"I mean just that chummer. Mr. Cao's already seeing someone right now so the interview room is full, and no one gets in without his say so," the ganger standing guard responds.

"Look," the first voice says slowly and patiently, like he's talking to an idiot, "I don't want to stay here for good. I told you that twice already. If I have to wait to see Mr. Cao, fine. I said I don't care about getting into the warehouse, I just want to get out of this damn rain! So for the third time, all I'm asking is that you let us stand inside, right here, by the door, so I don't get get any more freaking soaked than I already am! It's fragging raining like you wouldn't believe out there!"

A flash of lightning followed by a deep rolling thunder reinforced his point, and it sounded like the sky was chuckling in agreement that yes, this was quite a storm, and it pitied the fool who was caught out in the midst of it.

Stubbornly, the ganger held his ground as some of the the other gangers in the warehouse started drifting nervously towards the northeast door, just in case trouble broke out. The nervousness could probably be attributed in no small part to the huge, hulking troll standing just behind the man who'd been doing the talking, and the giant trombone case the troll carried easily in his left hand only fueled speculation as what these two were up to here.

The rapidly escalating exchange was clearly seen by everyone in the interview room through the glass, and with a start John realized he knew the man doing the talking. It was the guy who'd just hired him for the job, the runner who called himself Blaze.

Of course, it helped that Blaze was still wearing that bright red coat and red mirrorshades, which made him a pretty easy guy to recognize. Earlier this evening John had mentally chided the other runner for being so easy to spot. Now, he was grateful that he was because it helped him get a leg up on the situation without anyone knowing.

What the frag is he doing here? And what's his interest in this place? The world is way too small for this to be a coincidence, or is it? And that troll with him looks like real trouble. If Blaze brought a guy like him here, that's as good as hanging out a fragging neon sign that he's expecting trouble, and lots of it.

Max almost gasped aloud at the sight of the huge troll. While John was certainly a cybered up street monster by any standards, the troll was barely human. Or troll. Or whatever you wanted to call him. Metallic grey and dead black chunks covered his aura from head to toe, and the sick, faint glimmer of his aura revealed that the troll would better be described as machine than anything organic, whether you wanted to call him a man or a troll. Though to Max's eyes, the only word that really described him adequately was monster.

Seeing the gangers slowly closing in, Blaze was glad ETG was there. He hadn't meant to get all belligerent, but for spirits' sake, all he wanted was to get out of the damn rain! Was that so much to ask? What was it that made people so unreasonable at times anyway?

He felt ETG shift slightly, and automatically Blaze stepped to the big troll's right so in case things got ugly, ETG could clear his weapon and start shooting without worrying about hitting his employer.

The situation was getting visibly tenser. Sighing, Mr. Cao looked at John and Max. "I apologize for the interruption. Let me go see if I can amiably resolve this problem before real trouble develops. Would you please wait here for me?"

Without waiting for a reply, Cao Jaan steps out of the interview room and says, "Excuse me, but what seems to be the problem here? I much prefer we resolve this situation without violence." He looks around at the gangers, then back at Blaze and ETG, emphasizing his point that he was speaking to all of them.

Blaze wasn't really listening though. As Cao Jaan had stepped out of the room, pulling his attention away from the ganger and towards the interview room, his heart practically leapt into his throat. His eyes were obviously and firmly fixated on the room's sole female occupant, Lady Dove. Although she'd dyed her hair, she still looked mostly the same as she did in the picture his Aunt Margaret had given him, and he was almost certain that it was in fact Melissa. At long last, it looked like his search for his cousin would finally come to an end. Or would it?

00:27:19 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

As Cao stepped out of the room to try and diffuse the situation John turned to the elf before he could do the same. "Hoi, chummer, I know that loud fragger in red out there. Want me to try an' calm him down?"