09:17:39 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Kat sighs heavily. "I don't know. I mean sure, it's nice to think about, just have the guy vanish and all, but like you said, he's connected, and even then, it's not like I have the money for something like that."

She laughs harshly. "Heck, it's not like I'd know where to find someone for that even if I did have the money. Anyway, I have a shift tonight at 22:00:00. Are you sure you want to go? Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate your offer, it means a lot to me. But if he notices you, he might start following you around too, and I don't want to drag you in any deeper than I might have already."

09:17:47 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

"You never know Kat, there could be some hot looking assassin out there who would work for lapdances." She flashed a smile and a wink at the girl across the table while leaning back to be out of range lest Kat decide to reach across the table and smack her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, I'll be there. Besides, after today I think he's already noticed me." She shrugged before continuing, "Besides it's not like he can be two places at the same time so he can't follow us both if we're not together. And besides, if your boss won't do drek to the guy I will if he tries something."

Really that was rather amusing, since Mr. Mirrorshades was about 4 times as likely to break Lana in half before she'd lay a scratch on him.

09:18:23 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Much to Lana's surprise, Kat didn't even react to her joke about good looking assassins. Her friend just shook her head glumly. "Believe me Lana, if that was all it took to get this guy off my back, I'd give him private dances for a week. Well, if you don't mind coming by tonight I'd appreciate it, but maybe you should bring Blaze along with you."

Kat smiles sarcastically at her friend. "At least that way if my boss won't do drek, after you decide to do something to the guy Blaze can do the actual dirty work to him."

15:58:02 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Wade's East Side Gun Range, 13570 Bel-Red RD. Bellevue, WA 98005, Seattle, UCAS

Normally she'd have gone to WSI in Bellevue on a weekday because it had better facilities, but Wade's was closer, being just off of 520 after the bridge, allowing her to skip the drive down 405 to I90, saving at least half an hour travel time on her scooter. On weekends she'd take the ferry out to Bainbridge to the outdoor ranges at the Bainbridge Island Sportsmen's Club where'd she'd be more comfortable, as it was on outdoor ranges where'd she'd been first taught to shoot. The old police academy range was actaully about the same distance away South of downtown, but the reasons to go were outwieghed by other things. Not that it wasn't tempting, but being a LEO was a high risk career. Litany wasn't out to grow old on a widower pension.

Taking her softcase with her gear off of her scooter she walked through the obvious archway scanner and punched in her generic indoor range account code. The indicator lights on the interior of the large scanner flickered through a pattern identifying her as a range customer before she walked through the display area of the shop to the large indoor range. Selecting a newer large caliber offering from Wade's stock, Litany carefully went through her pre shooting routine of stripping, cleaning and reassembling the weapon before preparing several clips. Once ready she steps up to the range.

\\@Gabriel:: No overlay till the I calibrate with the first clip. Then do the random shift on the target overlay every three rounds, varying by up to 5 centimeters.
\\Gabriel:: That will display as worse results than last time.
...almost as if it cares...
\\@Gabriel:: I haven't been here since Ladies Night three weeks ago. I should be worse.

Breathe... Reload... Breathe... Reload... Hip Draw, Breathe... Reload... Cross Draw, Breathe... Reload... Shoulder Draw, Breathe... Reload ... SOB Draw, Breathe... Reload... Ankle Draw, Breathe... Reload... Thigh Draw, BREATHE... Reload...

\\@Gabriel:: Display summary results in a grid.
\\Gabriel:: Your average draw time is 2 thousandths of a second slower today. The two week data trend and projections predict this will be your baseline time within the next year. You did score 996 out of a thousand points.
\\@Gabriel:: Shut Up. I can read the numbers myself.
...tis the voice of doom... or old age catching up to me.

I -need- that makeover.

00:02:19 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Ms. Johnson remains silent for a moment, her pleasant but meaningless smile firmly in place. She finally gives an almost imperceptible nod and speaks. "I'm sorry, but there have been too many deviations from our initial agreement for this to proceed without amendment. I am not authorized to disperse full payment without first verifying the data is complete and intact. Given this new wrinkle, how do you propose we proceed?"

00:02:29 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

For a brief moment, Ludmila felt like putting a round in Ms. Johnson’s face. That little pretty smile of her was beginning to annoy her to no extent. Fact was, the Russian was damn sure she would be able to do it before anyone made a move. Another thing Ludi felt at the moment was that she was at the wrong place. Negotiating shadowy transaction of data in the middle bumblefrag, in the dead of the night, was not something she was particularly skilled in.

What she didn’t appreciate either was the fact that apparently, the two deckers had established an exchanged procedure beforehand… and she hadn’t been informed.

All in all; there was a lot about tonight she didn’t appreciate.

She turned slightly to give a look to Scratch. They could just walk away and find another buyer. Maybe Miki would take it. After all, databrokerage was the Vory’s premier talent. The only issue was that Ludi didn’t have the slightest idea what was on the damn chip. It was possible that it would be worthless to anyone else, or that it’s value would expire soon.

Her attention went back to the smiling Johnson.

“You and I know perfectly that this exchange is fragged up from the start. We’re proceeding like this to ensure your honesty.”

The woman gave a brief look around her.

“Which I am starting to doubt at the moment. This was the arrangement I was... how to say… informed about. I will not deviate from it. It’s fraggin’ simple.”

Ludi was getting exasperated, and she wasn’t worried about showing it to the woman now. Her hand closed back up around the data she had held in her hand.

“You know perfectly well we can fence the data somewhere else if you don’t want to take it.”

You want to play hardball, slitch, we’ll play hardball.

09:18:52 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Lana scrunched up her nose slightly at the thought of dragging Aidan to the strip club, but Kat had a point, it'd be nice to have a bit more muscle behind a temper like Lana's.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll drop everything to see a bunch of girls running around naked." She tried to smile, "Maybe he can bring his boys too, make a night of it. At least you'd be guaranteed good tips, right?"

With class blown off for the morning, and her plans already set for that night, Lana just had to figure out what to do with the hours inbetween.

"You going back to campus for your 11:30 lecture today, or are you laying low? Like ditch another class and go shopping at the Racers X sale instead of playing another round of hide and seek with Mr. Mirrorshades?"

She popped what was left of her breakfast into her mouth and followed it with a long sip of coffee as she waited for the answer.

17:35:29 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Gary Manuel Salon, 2127 1st Ave Seattle, WA 98121-2102, Seattle, UCAS

"Dolores! How are you darling? Come come, sit sit, what can I do for you today, I can hardly think I can improve on your current style."

"Thanks for squeezing me in Mina, I've got a blind date tonight, so I thought something exotic and mysterious. What do you think about black, straight with extenders beaded, kind of that Cleopatra Egyptian look, but with the blue lens for the eyes. I have some faux egyptian cotton skirt and shirt with those large gold band trim for starters. And I think some of the gold and black body painting to go with it?"

"You shall be a ancient treasure, one of the seven wonders! ... but a blind date? Sit here and lean back. What happened to Rosario the bronzed young man from Guadalajara?"

"Rosario ...name changed to protect the guilty, namely myself.., it turned out I wasn't a man enough for him, if you know what I mean." Considering the beef in his protection team, that "uncle" must be top management

"Ah, muy macho, but... too bad, he sounded very nice. Now lean back and let me do your hair, enjoy the soak, I will be back in a few minutes and we will get you ready for tonight! Here I will plug you in. You should see what Darcy did this week."

//@Gabriel:: Okay, let's run that edit of the video on Tower 23 and overlay the structural wire grid. I want to run some pathing and options. Expand it to include the first couple floors and the surrounding four blocks. Color depth on the options based on calculated preferences.
//Gabriel:: Least time path is highlighted.
//@Gabriel:: That's also the most exposure, prioritize based on least exposure based on these fields of fire.

damnable software doesn't feel or understand pain, taking a couple more seconds to leave the room as long as I have cover most of the way is far better then trusting someone to miss. It just takes one lucky bullet to nail you for good.

09:19:28 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Kat smiled at her friend. She knew that Lana wouldn't want Aidan going to the strip club under any circumstances, but especially when she was dancing. Although she'd been the one to introduce the two of them, it couldn't be a comfortable feeling to know that your boyfriend was checking out one of your friends. A frequently more than half-naked friend with a killer body, no less.

"Shopping sounds good. I don't think I'd be paying much attention in class today." She giggled. "Not that I usually do anyway."

Turning serious for a moment again, she added, "Seriously though Lana, it might not be a bad idea for Aidan to bring some of his friends along. You know, just in case."

09:19:46 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Lana got the not so subtle hint as she nodded and started pulling out her phone.

"Ok, ok look, I'm dialing already!"

She knew she'd never be able to not make the phone call even if she voiced her concerns about her boyfriend watching her best friend dance, naked no less. But her friend's safety was more important than her petty jealousy right now.

She hit Adian's speed dial and waited for him to pick up, drumming her fingernails on the tabletop in between each ring.

"Hey babe, no I'm just sitting here with Kat having breakfast. Yes, we're skipping class."

She laughed softly before she asked the 100,000 nu question.

"What are you and the rest of your boys doing tonight? Kat's in a bit of a bind and needs some help at work. NO! I'm not dancing at amateur night! Look you and Dash, Jamie and the rest of the guys get to stare at tits and ass all night and we keep an eye on Kat in the process. No, I don't have time to go into why right now... "

She rolled her eyes at Kat, but was secretly pleased to hear him more interested in the why instead of jumping at the chance to stare at naked chicks.

"Huh? Oh yeah, she's on at 22:00, but I figure we can roll in a bit early?"

19:20:07 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - St James Cathedral 804 9th Ave, Seattle, UCAS

Candles quietly burning in the nearby alcove provide plenty of ambient lighting for Litany's eyes. if only it would illuminate the dark places in my soul. Kneeling she moves her hand in long practiced motion and spends a few minutes reflecting as the multi tinted light from the western window covers her in a patchwork of red, green and yellow shades.

//Tear Ducts OFF

remember Danny, Lord look out for him as he did for me .. it's not his fault I am this way, he's a good boy.
Nate
Jeremiah
Murphy
4Runner
Cracker
Bliss
Junker
Silent Knight
Argo
Righty
Boomer
Daisy Gawenda
The woman in apartment 2230

a candle for each of you this day, who knows I may join you all this night and the candles may guide me too.

For the living, I ask You to watch over Jean and Phil, my brothers and sisters, the 16 nieces and nephews I know about, and even the ones I do not. Forgive them their sins, and remember that my sins are not theirs.

And last, Stephen, though he asked mockingly, I send a prayer for him to You, and Dresden because she has already been to the depths and I would ask You to spare her that again.

Done with her ritual, Litany rises to her feet gracefully, ensuring her coat and hood keep her bright gold, white, and black clothes and body design concealed. Turning her back to the altar and striding out the main doors of the old cathedral, her rubber gripped leather strap sandals make no noise as she heads out into the Seattle night.

Tower 23 awaits

19:58:43 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

//Mosquito:: Query Status, Transmit Report ignoring for the moment the stream of video clips from the drone, Litany reflectively considered the half scale holographic projection of herself in the coat room alcove. Bright white real cotton panels with 10 centimeter wide bright gold trim form the front and back of high to mid thigh length skirt, amply displaying her bronzed and gilt sprayed legs from her intricately laced leather sandals up to her thighs revealed by the side split skirt. An series of hieroglyphic designs around her midsection are bordered on top with another set of bright white panels with gold trim forming her top, front and back, along with two triangular patches to form the hint of sleeves on her shoulders. Along her arms are various symbols, dog head, crocodile mouths, stylized eyes, and a cat in black against a light gilt body color. Her hair is black and braided in strands with a line of beads in the middle, and along the ends, on her right cheek is a stylized eye, her left is bare. Rotating the view in several dimensions with the controls, she nods to herself ... no mincing steps tonight or that pulsar will bruise my inner thigh something fierce, and that'll take some explaining....

Smiling mysteriously to herself Litany straightens her skirt minutely and steps into Tower 23 and scans the room briefly.

//@Gabriel:: Tactical map. Use Mosquito's files and my current visuals and do the standard grid, update the planned bugout routes with the positions of the people in the room as best you can.
//Gabriel:: Priority of new tactical data?
... Lord help me ...
//@Gabriel:: Calculate based on using them as light cover

09:22:04 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

The curiosity had definitely been strong in Aidan's voice as he talked to Lana. After all, it wasn't every day a guy's girlfriend called to invite him to a strip club. And to watch her best friend (who just so happened to be smoking hot) strip, no less. Clearly there was some tantalizing potential here.

Trying to stay cool and not piss off Lana by answering too enthusiastically, Aidan strained to keep the curiosity out of his voice as he answered as calmly as he could, "No problem babe. You want to all go together or you just want me and the guys to meet you there? What's the name of the club again? Oh, and how many of the guys do you want me to bring along?"

09:22:12 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

"I'm sure Kat has to be there early and I've got a few things I've gotta do tonight before heading over there, so why don't we all meet up at the club. It's the Klassy Kat, the one with the big gaudy neon pink winking kitten head on the front. It's on Second and Virgina, downtown. Trust me, you can't miss it."

She flashed a thumbs up across the table to Kat before continuing.

"I'd say just put the offer out there to the guys, but I doubt there's any of them that would turn down a chance to see naked women. Three or four of you should be plenty I'm sure. Look, I'm gonna go, you know stuff to do before tonight an all. I'll see you guys there around 21:45 or something, ok?"

20:01:28 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

The slow pan of the room was more protective camouflage than anything else, mosquito had provided not only a detailed scan of the room but also a view of her contact as he entered. Even if the face wasn't a match to the image Steven forwarded to her, she would have pegged him for a corporate suit. The pair of bodyguards that moved with him were a dead giveaway.

He stood as she approached his table, brushing his hand carefully down the front of his tailored Tres Chic suit and motioning for her to take the seat across from him. The charcoal gabardine is offset by the lustrous blue of his necktie, the color lifting highlights from eyes that don't quite warm with the smile on his face.

"Good evening, Ms. Litany. I can see that your dossier image does not do you justice. Thank you for meeting with me tonight, would you care for anything before we begin? A drink, perhaps, or other refreshment?"

He lifts his hand to signal to the waiter, stopping when Litany declines with a gentle shake of her head.

"Very well, to business then...."

He pauses in response to Litany's casual gesture, eyebrow raised in clear questioning.

"Your name?" she asks. Again, the smile stretches his lips, revealing perfectly white teeth against the olive cast of his skin.

"Of course, my apologies. Vannak McKenna. Please, call me Van."

When she takes his offered hand, she finds his grip cool and dry, firm but not crushing. The skin is smooth and unwrinkled, but she can feel hard callous underneath the pampered outer dermis.

"To business then? Very well. My employer has suffered a recent theft, and we have been able to track the thief here, to Seattle. His name is Gamal bin Qais al' Said, although he goes by a more anglicized version Gamal Saidlan."

A picture glowed to life over the data display unit on the table, dormant until Van's simple keystroke. The face is swarthy and obviously Middle Eastern, with close cropped black hair and a thin beard. The eyes are dark and intense above high cheekbones. It is a face of intensity and intelligence.

"Saidlan managed to infiltrate my employer's residence last week during a dinner party and liberate this artifact from the mansion's art collection."

The image changes to show a small rectangular reliquary, perhaps thirty centimeters on the long side and fifteen or twenty centimeters high. Odd figures and designs adorn the panels, and the lid appears to close with an elaborate metal locking mechanism.

"It is a thirteenth century Turkish incense humidor, valuable not for its materials, but for the artwork and history that it represents. Very few of these reliquaries exist intact, making such a well preserved specimen precious. Luckily the rarity of the item makes the theft easier to defeat: Saidlan will not be able to sell this on the open market. Any antiquities dealer would immediately recognize it for what it is. Unfortunately, my employer believes that Saidlan already has a buyer for the item. Otherwise he would not have risked stealing it. My employer believes that the buyer and Saidlan are planning to meet here in Seattle to exchange the reliquary for payment, and that this will be the only opportunity to recover the item."

Van pauses to take a sip from the glass in front of him before continuing.

"Our information indicates that Saidlan is staying in East Tacoma, Raincrest Apartment complex, number 523. This is unconfirmed intelligence, though, as we have been unable to positively confirm his presence either at that location or in the city in general. My employer wishes to retain your services both for this purpose as well as recovering what was stolen from him. He is willing to offer six thousand nuyen for the successful return of his property, with half of the fee provided up front. Will you find these terms satisfactory?"

20:02:06 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Lifting her eyes from the slowly spinning image of the ornamental box, ... what object of worship did those heathen place in here? Hashish, Opium?... Litany purses her lips slightly before smiling and looking across the table, meeting Van's eyes, while carefully keeping her hands visible and still on the table.

"To ensure the best possible service and care, outside of this image, firstly how do I ensure I have the correct item? For there may be copies. It is often the case involving historical craftwork. Secondly, while I have no interest in any specific contents, I do wish to be aware any particular care I must take in protecting the contents, if any."

Moving her hand slowly, Litany brushes a finger through the projected image's elaborate locking mechanism.

"As to Terms, they seem satisfactory in so far as returning the item itself. However, it appears that the confirmed location of the individual responsible is also desired. This may require more effort to accomplish beyond what is needed to recover the item. If this is the case that both the item and the individual are required for satisfaction, the item having precedence of course, then six thousand for the item, and an additional bonus of two thousand for the individual might be reasonable?"

01:00:01 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

For a fraction of a second, Knight thought it was the end of the world. He was dead. He had failed. His life flashed before his eyes… but stopped rolling when he heard the first bullets fly around him.

Snapping out of his mild torpor, Knight ducked behind the closest cover her could find… one of the almost empty shelves that filled the warehouse. Hiding behind Swiss cheese would have been more effective. His left arm was across his body, his delicate hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed blade. There was simply no way he could get within fighting distance before getting simply cut down by a hail of gunfire. He had to act. Now. Fast.

“GET OUT OF HERE!” he yelled over his shoulder, probably at Cao’s intention.

Extending his right arm forward, outstretched hand reaching toward one of the intruder, the ambient flow of mana started to gather itself around his arm, coiling itself like a snake of blue energy. Seconds later, the powerful manabolt ripped through the warehouse’s astral space, heading for one of the goons.

01:00:01 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Cao, half deafened from the blast that brought down the wall of the warehouse/shelter, had the remainder of his hearing first filled with Cantonise words from a lifetime ago, then drowned with the clatter, snap, and roar of gunfire from the Triad solders. The Sickles added their weapons to the deafening crescendo.

He was away from the gunfire across the cavernous warehouse, and almost ran to get Lady Dove and the girl before seeing others move in that direction. No one was moving to help the people that he and the others had cared for, though. The Sickles would try not to hit them, but the go tsao de Triad solders would happily mow them down if ment a better shot.

So Cao ran forward, toward the fire, hoping to draw some of it, while screaming "RUN, RUN TO THE BACK!" at the people still shocked from the explosion. A large shelf in front of him offered some cover, if he could make it without being hit...

01:00:01 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

As the far wall explodes, ETG turns his gaze from the dangling girl to the clearly hostile men charging into the building. The sounds of gunfire erupting all around him is music to his ears.

Time to earn my keep.

Choosing one of the dozens of plans that had been running through his mind, ETG releases the mechanism on his custom made trombone case as Blaze races by in front of him, most likely for the staircase.

The sides of the case drop off to reveal his oft used Ingram White Knight Light Machine Gun, cocked, loaded and ready to go.

He seizes familar handle and lines up the first hostile he sees through the shelves with the target emblazoned in his vision and fires. Then noticing another one approaching a warehouse resident he shifts targets and fires again making sure to hit that one.

Knowing the location of the room behind him ETG steps back to entrench himself behind the short wall to cover both Blaze's return trip down the stairs and their nearest exit.

20:02:38 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Van reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and withdraws a slim silver laser pointer, placing it on the table next to the data display unit.

"Due to the unique organic chemical composition of the paints on the reliquary, the box flouresces beneath green laser light. To our knowledge, this trait has never been successfully reproduced. It is a simple enough test to prove the veracity of the object. As for the rest, my employer does not require nor does he desire to know the whereabouts of Saidlan, only the recovery of his item. For that purpose, six thousand suffices. He will, though, agree to a thousand nuyen bonus if you are able to recover his property no later than midnight on Saturday."

20:02:51 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Litany flashes a large smile full of brilliant white teeth, "Terms are clear and acceptable."

With deliberation she reaches across to the laser pointer and moves it in front of her on the table, then to the data display unit from which she dispenses the data chip and moves that alongside the laser pointer. Placing her finger on the data chip and tapping it, "Contact protocols for delivery I assume? That leaves only one item and I shall be off to work."

Typical of Stephen to send me a job hunting down a man...

20:03:06 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Once again, Van reaches in to his jacket pocket, this time withdrawing a slim certified credstick and placing that on the table in front of Litany.

"Yes, contact numbers are listed on the chip as well. Progress reports are unnecessary, notify us only when you have recovered the item so that we may arrange a meeting. Good luck."

20:03:14 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Tower 23, 4551 Ocean Blvd Suite 102, Seattle, UCAS

Palming the three objects, Litany rubs her hands over her shoulders, sliding the items into the hidden shoulder flap pockets of her outfit. After taking a moment to smooth out the gold trimmed linen, she slides out of her seat and stands next to the table. Performing a small curtsy, "My apologies for leaving you alone so soon, but you may take solace in the view." Moving a step back she briefly poses with an arm extended and slightly pointed behind her at the incredible backdrop beach view and the setting sun beginning to display beneath the evenings western clouds.

Turning slowly enough to not make her skirt flap, \\mosquito:: Meet me in the hall. Maintain stealth. and with a casual wave, Litany maneuvers her way out of the room.

get clear of here
Find a public term
Scan the data
Set Gabriel loose
Contact Flipper
Start surveillance on the known location
Then start chasing whatever leads Gabriel and Flipper turn up.

09:22:45 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

"Klassy Kat, Second and Virginia, Downtown, 21:45. Got it," Aidan repeats, memorizing the information."See you then babe." Then he hangs up, leaving the two girls alone together in the coffee shop once again.

"Are they coming?" Kat asks, breaking the momentary silence.

01:00:01 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

Rage . . .calling in adrenaline would be a gross understatement . . .pushed Blaze's senses to the keenest they had ever been. The speed at which he found himself responding to the bursting of the bay doors was an homage to his predator totem. But it was not time to strike, for even Leopard knows that the cubs must be protected before the enemy dealt with.

Familar words of power slipped through his taught lips, though they sound more like a muffled roar, and he felt the speed of Leopard taking hold of his muscles. With the power of his totem at his stead, Blaze darted towards the stairs that Melissa had used. Nothing else was more important.

21:47:56 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Raincrest Apartments, East Tacoma, UCAS

Litany braked her scooter to a halt slowly, making sure the It's Delivery! hot pizza box did not slide off. She was now dressed in a set of dull gray flats along with a It's Delivery! baseball cap and a neon yellow vest with an It's Delivery! logo emblazoned on it. The egyptian outfit had been sent to a dry cleaner to be picked up later, and a shower in the public, but certainly not free, refreshment center had removed all of her body paint. The hairpieces were put away under the scooter seat, and now a simple band tied it back and it was threaded through the back of her cap. The pizza she'd actually paid for tonight, and the cap and vest were from when she'd worked part time for a week or so on a previous assignment. oldest trick around... well second oldest...

//Mosquito:: Let's take a look around shall we?

She was a little surprised she hadn't heard back from Flipper yet, but then again, she never was very confident in the ability of software to make good decisions. As usual when contacting him she'd had to deal with the latest version of his receptionist. This week it appeared as a giant luminous numeral one with a crimson set of lips with a disturbingly large amount of tiny sharp teeth. Litany had left an explicit set of requests, and had sent the data pack along with Gabriel to keep it safe.

1. Current whereabouts of one Gamal bin Qais al' Said aka Gamal Saidlan
2. Known associates and high probability locations for same.
3. Baseline reputation of one Vannak McKenna ... good to know who you are dealing with...
4. Market value on 13th century Turkish Humidors
5. Data on the original theft last week

Knowing as much as you could about the situation was always useful.

Litany looked over the approach to the apartment complex as she waited for the initial data from Mosquito.

15:48:08 Saturday, 13 January 2063 – Capitol Hill Terrace, 1404 E. 14th Ave, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony drove into the converted U shaped courtyard of his apartment building, half frozen water puddles splashing as the Americar pulling into one of the ‘upgrade’ parking spots he’d talked his landlord out of when he first moved in. It beat parking right on the street for hauling things (and people) in and out, and the internal courtyard blocked causal sight. Most of the apartments with a view of the courtyard (including Tony) kept their blinds down: with only the alley, the parking lot, and the back of a Stuffer Shack and it’s dumpster as a view, it wasn’t one’s first choice. The front apartments view of the sidewalk foliage, as well as the streets and people, were much more popular.

Locking the car and thumbing open the door to the 2nd floor stairway, he remembered the night before, taking Reign up the same flight of stairs; the thought replaced some of the paranoid feelings that had been building since he’s left the Spirit. Still smiling at the thought of her last night, he opened the latch to the metal door of the second floor flight…

…right into someone.

Tony, shocked back to reality from happy memory by suddenly appearing people, reacted mainly on training, instinct and the creeping paranoia he’d felt on the way over. He stepped back down a stair, bladed his body, and was in the process of reaching back under his short synthwool coat for the tiny Morreisey pistol he was carrying when he looked up to check his aim…

…and saw the human couple standing there, dressed for a late afternoon shopping trip and surprised themselves at having a door opened on them. Tony recognized them to nod at in the hallway, lived in one of the corner units, he thought, moving.

Tony quickly straightened out the elbow that had been bending to reach for a gun to prop open the door, as relieved that he’d been looking to aim before he’d finished reaching for his pistol as for not having to face gun wielding people facing him now. Holding the solid metal door as gracefully as he could given the bad leverage and flashing a smile to cover his own surprise, he motioned for the couple to continue down the stairs. “Apologies,” he said, hoping that his abrupt movement wasn’t s

“Oh, we’re sorry,” the female said, coming down the stairs past Tony, leading the male. “Goshen should put a window in this or something,”

“Yeah, thanks,” the male said, moving past Tony down the stairs and picking up his girlfriend’s, wife’s? he though conversation. “Someone could get hurt by that thing,” Moving thru the now clear doorway and flexing his arm after holding the door as they walked down stairs. You have no idea hombre, you have no idea. I need a drink, Tony thought, trying to stop his hand from shaking.

Walking to his apartment and checking that the hair he’d set in the jamb was still there, he walked in, stripping off his coat and moving toward the kitchen to grab a plastic bottle of whiskey. Taking a swig, he plopped down on the couch, careful not to spill the liquor, resting to bleed off the adrenline. Need to get out of this place. They know I’m here. Get the stuff over to Bellevue, work out of there for a bit. Just come back here tonight for Reign. he though, taking another swig from the bottle before recapping it and moving toward his duffel bag’s hiding place in the closet. Time to pack

01:00:01 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

John had just released his grip on Max's arm and turned his gaze back to his smiling niece. He zoomed in on her face, then quickly performed a visual check for wounds. She looks OK. Just tired. No fraggin' thanks to you, old man. You're just fraggin' lucky she got some good friends... Still, she's OK. Everythin's gonna be OK... He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care.

Whether by instinct or premonition, John still had not deactivated his wires when the explosions ripped through the warehouse. It almost seemed as if he could actually feel the shockwaves hit just before he heard the deafening roar of the explosives. He was still looking up as Nora, leaning over the railing and waving to him with both hands, pitched forward and just barely caught the lowest part of the walkway's railing with one small hand. Because of his enhanced reflexes, it all happened with an agonizing slowness.

"NO!" The hoarse cry escaped his lips, even as he started to turn. "Nora! Hang on!"

Scrapheap jammed his hand into his satchel even as he started to move towards the large shelving unit nearest him. Shrapnel rained throughout the warehouse and screams began to fill the air. From the corner of his vision, he could see the Professor begin to fall backwards, obviously stunned by the sudden assault. Quickly deciding that was probably the safest place for the inexperienced shaman, the old samurai pulled a smoke grenade from his satchel, pulled the pin, and tossed it through the shelves, practically in a single motion.

He quickly closed the distance to the shelving unit as the chatter of gunfire sounded for the first time. Through long experience he knew that there were better ways to go about this, that what he was about to try was not tactically sound, but at the moment all the old runner could think about was getting to his niece as quickly as possible.

Leaping onto the metal shelves with an audible grunt, Scrapheap began to climb...

00:02:48 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

"Oh! Nul persp then. I guess we're done here. Good luck on your sale!" All said in a cheerful, yet sarcastic tone that caused Ludi to grit her teeth painfully and tighten her grip on the Roomsweeper.

The smile dropped from the Johnson's face. "You're assuming, of course, that you'd be allowed to walk away and seek another buyer. You will not." Three bright red dots suddenly appeared on Ludi's chest, another two on Scratch. Looking past the woman standing before her, following the laser light from her chest back to it's source, the slim russian could see two men in urban camo gear step from behind cargo containers. Their assault rifles were pointed directly at her.

"We will work this out here and now. My employer is willing to pay for this information only after it's authenticity has been confirmed. Lead us to this encryption key, I will verify the data, and if satisfied make full payment."

The smile returned. "It's your only realistic choice."

09:22:53 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Damn Good Coffee, Seattle

Lana slipped her phone back into her pocket and nodded at Kat.

"Yeah, they're gonna be there by the time you go on. He's bringing some of the boys so you'll have plenty of us looking out for you tonight. She smiled slightly and looked at the empty plates and glasses before them.

"I guess it's time to hit up Racer X and do some damage on the bank accounts hmmm?" She smiled and pushed her plate to the center of the table and started to stand and gather her things. She discreetly cast another glance around the coffee house as she closed up her bag, specifically looking for Mr. Mirrorshades again before they headed off. Last thing either of the girls needed was to be peeped on while trying on clothes at the store or worse.

21:57:04 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Raincrest Apartments, East Tacoma, UCAS

Litany was scrutinizing the view of the rear of the building through Mosquito's eyes when the tridmail from Flipper came in. She paused long enough to highlight the locations of the security cameras covering the entrance to the parking garage as well as the two exits onto the street before opening up the missive.

L-

Speed costs, but don't worry. I'll just add this to your tab.

F

1. No data available
2. Vaughan, male human norm, talismonger; Legion, male human adept, mercenary; North, no data available
3. Vannak McKenna, reported KIA during Desert Wars '65, commander, 2nd Company, 2nd Battalion, Black Dragon Regiment. The Black Dragon Regiment was employed almost exclusively by Saeder-Krupp as freelance mercenaries augmenting corporate forces.
4. Depending on condition, up to 250,000 nuyen.
5. No data available

00:03:02 Saturday January 14, 2063 - NYK Shipmanagement Staging Lot A-6, E Marginal Way S At S Michigan St, Seattle

Just as the Johnson announced she wouldn’t allow them to leave, Ludmilla felt her jolted up nervous system jack up into gears. Her perception of how time flowed altered itself, as her brain translated the new nervous inputs. Thing slowed down. Her knees slightly bent , one foot sliding behind the other as her body reacted on instinct, putting itself in a shooting stance.

The smartlink interface, via the induction pad in her palm, had already commanded the weapon to free itself from its safety and had rocked the bolt forward, chambering a round. Just as her wrist was about to click the barrel of the gun forward, Ludmilla took control of her body once more, freezing on the spot. There were at least 5 other shooters, and they all had the drop on her. The training, past experiences and cyber wouldn’t allow her to come out on top.

That… and she knew very well that Scratch would never be able to drop behind cover fast enough. If she engaged them, she’d certainly get him geeked.

The Russian woman felt her blood boiling on the inside. She had put her first impressions aside, and had been rewarded by walking straight into a fragged up meet. Since the second she had laid eyes on the map of the area, she should have walked. Her greed had gotten her in this position. As much as she wanted to curse Byte and Scratch for agreeing to such ludicrous terms of meeting, she had still followed them. The blame was on her, and her alone. Her expertise in the field should have allowed her to avoid the whole thing… but her temper had gotten the best of her. Again.

Even with a few high powered assault rifles pointed at her, all Ludi could think of was how much she wanted to frag the woman standing a few feet from her… and how much she wanted a smoke.

Out loud, she cursed at the woman in Russian; mixing in mentions of how she should go and have painful intercourse with many different animals. She punctuated the comment by spitting only a few feet away from her.

Ludi nonchalantly crossed her arms and leaned forward against the opened door, the Remington now hanging in plain view, it’s barrel pointed toward the ground.

“My only realistic choice, da?” she asked with an eyebrow raised, a small smirk almost creeping on her lips.

I could kill you ten times before your goons even squeezed off one round, you drity little slitch.

Bending over, she threw the small shotgun on the seat of her car, giving Scratch a good long look, trying to reassure him that it was all going to be over soon. Her moves were deliberately slow. She had no idea how trigger happy the J’s goons were.

“If I can give you a little advice, for future reference” she threw for the Johnson “don’t ever do it like this again. Deserted places, in the middle of the night, only make people like you, me, and them” she nodded in the men’s direction “twitchy and jumpy. It’s bad for business.”

She cocked her head to the side, as if she was trying to make up her mind. As a matter of fact, Ludmilla was still trying to make her mind up.

“I’ll take you to where the key is… but you let the boy go.” She added, jerking her thumb toward Scratch.

22:10:15 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Raincrest Apartments, East Tacoma, UCAS

Nobody having come to the door for the last ten minutes and the lack of pedestrians nearby indicating a low probability... might need to wait for bar time munchies Litany put away her vest and cap and headed for the nearest public data term and jacked in.

//@Mosquito:: Watch.

//@Gabriel:: Come on Home

During Gabriels upload, and the accompanying stream of data from her Matrix active interests the alert icon, a pair of exploding pom poms, flashed indicating an incoming call.

A chrome troll manifests in her view.

//Dresden:: Hey Lit, saw you were jacked in and wanted to know if you got my package yet?
//@Dres:: What package?
//Dresden:: Oh I got some new munitions for you to try out, sent it via courier to your place.
//@Dres:: You sent munitions to my place? Dres! Last time you did that I ended up having to leave that pair of black pumps, you know, the ones that didn't make my feet sore after ten minutes. I still haven't found a replacement for those.
//Dresden:: These are all legal munitions. Not even restricted. And I double bagged them this time.
//@Dres:: And wrapped them in foil?
//Dresden:: No need for that, the casing masks the munition type, Dresden specials!
//@Dres:: I don't care what kind of munitions they are, the foil is so that no one can tell that they are munitions in the first place.
//Dresden:; Why do you want to hide my munitions?
//@Dres:: Never mind... so which ones are these?
//Dresden:: Taggers. Couple basic models. Thin shell casings which allow various liquid or gel loads. You can select casing hardness to vary impact level for the delivery. Simplest load is your basic paint tag... you have no idea how hard it is to make chrome paint... IR, UV, olfactory taggants, and a special radar taggant responding to a particular radio wavelength.

The chrome troll waves a strip of paper, and a slew of superimposed mechanical diagrams appears in six perspectives.

//@Dres:: Penetrating rounds?
//Dresden:: Ah, well if you take the troll rated casings and shoot someone who isn't a troll, then it will penetrate soft tissue. But for that you should use the gel rounds and a special drug carrier, or stick to the good old needle injector rounds.
//Dresden:: But the other tagger round is the real new one!
//@Dres:: Oh do tell me more!
//Dresden:: Oh yes, there's more, not only do you get the shell casing taggers, but the all new rfid taggers! Latest technology at work. Inside of a soft gel sticky round is a small radio ID tag that can signal or be identified on short range scanners! What will this cost you? Well.. for only 9.95 a round you get
//@Dres:: Enough... so you want me to try some of these out?
//Dresden:: Yeah, mostly I want to check the rfid taggers don't break under proper conditions.
//@Dres:: These all chrome munitions?
//Dresden:: Duh.
//@Dres:: Okay, then you'll have to wait, I'm not using those rounds on my current job.
//Dresden:: Why not? Everyone should use chrome shells.
//@Dres:: If everyone did, then I could use them, but they don't, so I can't.
//Dresden:: Oh one of those jobs. You should do some where it's okay to let everyone know who shot who. Just like the old days.
//@Dres:: I keep trying not to remember.
//Dresden:: C'mon it was fun old times!
//@Dres:: Sure it was. But I need to go check something. I'll get to those rounds in a couple of days, and if I find my apartment filled with the Star I am going to insist on that sub orbital to Manila to buy me a pair of hand made pumps.
//Dresden:: I hate flying.
//@Dres:: Bye
//Dresden:: Laters.

17:38:25 Saturday, 13 January 2063-4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS

Tony adjusted the strap on the large duffel slung over his back to reach inside his pocket for the key to the building. The pack was heavy with food, water, liquor, and other things less than healthy for others, and the cheap nylon strap across his shoulders made it a pain in the ass to get the key out of his interior coat pocket. After working the lock for a moment, the ancient steel security door opened with a clack of disengaged locks and squeal of protesting hinges; Tony wondered both how secure it really was and how long it had been up.

Like the Terrace, this building did it even have a name? he wondered was old, but where the Terrace had been lovingly and carefully maintained, this place had been left out in the pasture. Cheap, well worn and stained industrial carpet and low light from exhausted flourcents overhead greeted him as he walked through the narrow lobby to the stairwell, moving the straps around to try to find a more comfortable position. The static discharge on the metal latch caused a momentary jolt as he opened the door and moved up the stairs.

He’d kept to the GridGuide approved speed limit on the drive over here from Downtown: riding around with half a bag full of weaponry and ammo, combined with the paranoia that still lingered hadn’t made for a smooth ride. Explaining away his arsenal to a Star officer wasn’t on his list of things to do in life. Arriving on East Gate, he’d driven around the block a couple of times, and waited in the car for a good 5 minutes to see if any tails had picked him up. A few pedestrians moved down the block toward a Stuffer, and past it to a dive bar that had some traffic. Just wish they’d come at me if they’re going to he thought, popping the trunk and getting the bag out.

The inside of the doss hadn’t changed in almost a week, he thought as another real-key opened the door. Need to get a new lock on that he thought, slipping off the bag and tossing it onto the well-worn sofa across from the Novatech (actually, just a rebadged Fuchi) telecom. Check that, something has changed Tony thought, seeing the small cloud erupt from the sofa cushions. New layer of dust. That’s one thing he’d forgotten about the place: with no cleaning drone, and air filters that probably hadn’t been changed or cleaned since Dunkelzhan was running for office, the place was lousy with dust. The plastic faux-wood coffee table, the scarred headboard cheap double bed, the weak winter afternoon’s light that filtered though the plastic windowblinds; all were filled with motes of dust. Tony began to sneeze as he unpacked, thinking to himself If I ever find out who this Red Queen is, I’m going to kneecap 'em for making me paranoid enough leave my house and move into this!.

11:30:01 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Racer X

About two hours later the girls had done quite a bit of damage to their bank accounts as they shopped with a mission. Clearly Kat was determined to forget the events of the previous few days and weeks, because she shopped with a single-minded determination that was almost startling in its resolve to get the absolute best deal out there.

Toting several bags of various clothing and accessories around, it was obvious she had succeeded. The two friends excitedly discussed the latest additions to their wardrobes and the circumstances they couldn't wait to wear them in. Weaving through the crowds with practiced ease, they headed to their next target store with the same enthusiasm of the previous two hours of shopping.

Their mirth was dampened immediately when a short, thin man with a slightly disheveled suit approached them. Without pretense, he said, "Excuse me ladies, may I have a minute of your time?"

11:32:13 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Outside Racer X

Lana instantly went on the defensive as the gentleman approached the pair of girls considering the bomb of information Kat had dropped in her lap earlier and what she had been able to witness first hand. She was still wound up tight as shopping hadn't allowed her to let go of the on edge feeling that was knotted at the base of her spine and the top of her neck. Instinctively and protectively Lana positioned herself and the bags between Kat and the thin, short man.

"Whadda want?" Her tone of voice is sharp and her gaze is pointed at the man's face.

18:25:07 Saturday, 13 January 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace 1404 E. 14th Ave. Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

His nose was still twitching when Tony returned to the Terrace, and he felt grimy and dusty from the short period of time his backup doss. Hopefully won’t have to spend too much time there he thought, brushing dust and lint off his jacket and pants and trying not to think about what he’d left on his car’s upholstery as he walked into the same upstairs door that he’d been in and out of a couple of hours earlier. More cautiously than before, he stepped lightly up the stairway, and listened for anyone approaching in the hallway at the top of the landing. Cracking the heavy door open slightly, he didn’t see anyone in the brightly lit hallway leading down to his apartment.

Get ahold of yourself! You haven’t done anything yet to anyone. Whoever this Red Queen is may be pissed at you, but they aren’t just going to break in and kill you unless you piss them off again. Tony thought, opening the door and peaking his head around to glance in the apartment, one hand on the little plastic holdout still in its holster in the small of his back. Told ya he thought again, seeing nothing missing or awry.

The apartment didn’t look terribly different than before he’d packed: most of the items he’d removed were from closets or cupboards. He’d purposely left enough clothing in the closets and food in the fridge to make it look like someone was still here and might come home at any moment. Only someone who’d been there previously (and had looked carefully the first time) would be able to tell that a couple of pictures were missing. Even the cleaning drone was programmed to continue its normal patrol.

Wish I could take that thing with me Tony thought to himself, unscrewing the cap off the plastic bottle of whiskey that he’d left on the counter. He didn’t know how to even hook the thing up, and didn’t have much time to learn at the moment anyway. “I’ll be back soon,” Tony said to the thing, happily charging in its niche under the dishwasher after taking a pull from the bottle. Momentarily resisting the urge to take another, he gave in and took another short pull, then capped the bottle and put it in the cabinet, then moved toward the shower.

18:57:07 Saturday, 13 January 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace 1404 E. 14th Ave. Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony had packed the (relatively) heavier of his artillery over to his other doss, but he’d kept the things he thought he’d need tonight with Reign here. Probably just get the Star called out on you, and you don’t need anyone else looking for you he justified to himself after a quick shower and shave, pulling out the Browning from his nightstand drawer. Nice, gels he thought, ejecting the clip and re-ramming it back in. Rummaging though his closet produced another clip of gels and a clip of ooh,my lucky day EX-EX with band of insulating tape wrapped around to mark it, as well as a silencer for the Browning. May run into some of the Queen’s men, ya never know, he thought, stuffing the clips into some of the interior pockets of his still-waterstained longcoat.

Dressing quickly in a heavy navy blue v-neck synthwool sweater, reinforced-at-the-seams charcoal pants, and a well-broken in pair of walking boots, he webbed a slim-fit holster around his left armpit. The silencer poked out of it too much to be comfortable or , so he put it in a utility pocket of the coat. Ooh, those may come in handy. Kinda cumbersome, but may be useful Tony thought as he put up his coat next to his blades.

After all, he thought as he sat down and turned on the trideo to some news, this ain’t that much different than over in Snohomish, right? “Nope, not really. Scare and get what you need, then get out,” he answered himself out loud, walking back into the kitchen for a bottle of water while waiting for Reign’s call and hearing the news in the background.

01:00:02 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

To most people, one second is an amount of time so small it’s not even worth discussing. It comes and goes with nary an impact, and most people never even notice the seconds of their lives as they tick steadily away.

To those who run in the shadows though, one second is often the thin line between life and death, as the quick begin to separate from the dead. Tonight in Cao Jaan’s warehouse was no different.

The assault had come quickly, and was unrelenting in its fury. As soon as the loading dock doors had blown, the attackers wasted precious little time in pouring in the gaps, preceded only by the hailstorm of hot lead they laid down to blaze a trail for them.

An assassin, even a former one, does not live long if he cannot think quickly, and Cao Jaan had not been unprepared for this day. As soon as the doors blew, he was already running, the magic melding with his own physical training to allow him to move faster and farther than a normal person had a right to move. Running past Scrapheap, Knight, and Max, he dove through the shelving unit headfirst, coming up in a flawless tuck and roll as bullets ricocheted around him. Coming to his feet in one smooth motion, he yelled, “Run! Get out of here now!” to the innocents around him, trying to get them safely out of harm’s way.

No less a seasoned veteran of numerous conflicts, Blaze immediately called upon the gifts of Leopard. Knowing that his own physical speed would not be enough to survive a battle of this magnitude, he summoned his own edge, and felt his body speed up as the world slowed down in response to his call of the magic.

Racing towards the stairs, and more importantly, towards Melissa, he yelled to his bodyguard, “Cover the stairs!” Confident in his ally’s combat prowess, he turned his back on the opposition and ran full speed towards the stairs, as fast as his legs could carry him.

As potentially the most experienced (some would smugly add oldest) combatant, Scrapheap knew the logical thing to do was seek a defensible position and systematically wear down the larger, but hopefully less skilled enemy force until he could gain a better strategic assessment of the situation.

Logic flew completely out the window though, the moment he saw Nora pitch over the railing and hang on tenuously with one small hand. Even as he yelled for her to hang on, his combat trained body was already throwing the smoke grenade to provide cover for the group. That was not an illogical move. The illogical move came afterwards, as he jumped onto the shelving unit next to him and began climbing as fast as he could, hoping to reach the second floor of the warehouse the fastest (and maybe stupidest) way he could.

Thanking his previous lives that he was prepared for trouble to break out, Knight whirled smoothly to face the attackers even as he ducked behind the shelves for what scant cover they would provide. His instructions to his employer went unheeded however, as he turned just in time to see Cao Jaan dive past him directly into the teeth of the fight.

Cursing under his breath, Knight singled out a foe directly across from his employer and watched with smug satisfaction as he felt the deadly manabolt arc through astral space to splatter the unfortunate goon across the floor. At least, that’s what should have happened. Instead, what happened was…absolutely nothing.

Feeling his spell splash and dissipate against the counterspelling defenses of an enemy magician, Knight felt a brief flash of panic as he frantically scanned the opposition force, hoping in vain for a glowing neon sign that might identify his spellcasting foe who had stopped his spell from having any effect at all.

Experience may have provided this unlikely band of allies the opportunity to strike first against their attackers for the most part, but the attackers proved they were not simply common street trash as they smoothly transitioned into a more organized offensive.

Ignoring Nora, who was struggling to pull herself up without any notable success, several of the attackers turned their attention to the ganger guards. One of them sprinted right past the ganger in the northwest corner before he could respond, apparently unconcerned.

His lack of concern was validated when one of his allies fired a pair of precision bursts at the ganger that knocked him back into the wall that left him slumping down it in a lifeless heap, leaving a trail of blood on the wall as he fell.

Several attackers fired bursts at Scrapheap as he climbed, and even at the range they were firing at, he felt several grazing wounds nick his jacket, and one group of rounds even hit him directly on the shoulder.

Fortunately for him, his cybered body and armor prevented the rounds from penetrating for any real damage, as the bullets just flattened themselves harmlessly against his jacket in a rapid staccato that jarred him slightly nonetheless.

The old samurai didn’t have time to worry about that however, as the enemy mage made his presence felt. Even as Cao Jaan came up in a diving roll on the other side of the shelf, screaming for people to get out of the way, the combat decided a twist of irony was in order. Perhaps he should have taken his own advice, for no sooner had the words cleared his lips than he was knocked to the ground by what had to be a Powerball spell.

Rosa had taught Scrapheap enough about magic to know that if he couldn’t see the attacking spell (which he couldn’t), it had to be what magicians called a ‘direct combat’ spell, as opposed to an ‘indirect combat spell’, which could be seen in the physical world. Either one was just as deadly, however, and the impact with which the spell smashed Cao Jaan off his feet was testament to that.

Another thing his ex-girlfriend had taught him was that only physical spells could affect physical objects, and this spell was most certainly physical. Even as the physad was knocked off his feet, Scrapheap felt the detonation of the spell vibrate through the shelving unit, which apparently had also been caught in the blast. The shelf swayed precariously, and it didn’t take an engineer to know that if anything so much as breathed on the shelf, it would come crashing to the ground, possibly with him still on it.

Gazing up at the catwalk which was so tantalizingly close, and yet so very far, Scrapheap quickly tried to assess if he could scramble up to the top of the shelf and jump to the catwalk before the whole thing came crashing down on him. If he succeeded, in addition to looking damn cool he’d only be a few meters from his niece. On the other hand, if he failed, he’d be looking at a nice quick descent of about 6 meters or so, and he'd be doing it the hard way. Decisions, decisions…

The ganger in the northeast corner was faster than his friends, and immediately ran forward to support his friends, which was a questionable decision at best, seeing as how his light pistol had about one-third the range of the submachine guns the majority of the attackers seemed to be carrying. In a warehouse that was about 100 meters wide, that might prove to be the last mistake the young ganger would ever make.

Another attacker, quite reasonably singling out ETG as the most dangerous threat, snapped off a pair of bursts as the enormous troll. Whether the rounds even hit the big troll apparently was a moot issue, because if he even felt it, no one could tell.

Unfortunately for the people Cao Jaan was desperately trying to get out of harm’s way (and had even taken a Powerball for, how altruistic of him!), they couldn’t say the same thing. An assailant directly across from Scrapheap, Max, Cao Jaan, and Knight let loose a stream of bullets obviously designed to force them to keep their heads down.

He didn’t succeed very well, albeit through no fault of his own. He put something down all right, just probably not his intended targets. The three innocents in the suppressed area spun and jerked like puppets with their strings cut as they were hit by the bullets that were probably not meant for them but found them anyway. Their lifeless bodies hit the floor, leaving a clear corridor for both sides to trade spells, bullets, and other assorted methods of death dealing with one another in the next few seconds.

Down on the southern end of the warehouse, almost as a casual aftermath to the recent explosions and carnage, another of the gangers was casually and quickly gunned down before he could so much as draw his weapon.

Meanwhile, on top of the warehouse, Lady Dove scrambled over to Nora and tried desperately to lift her back to the catwalk. While she succeeded in stabilizing the girl’s grip, she couldn’t do much more than that, her raw physical strength unable to lift the girl’s deadweight that dangled from the catwalk.

Utterly unperturbed by the battle unfolding around him, El Trollo Gigante calmly took up a position in the Interview Room behind him, setting himself up in a de facto pillbox. Even as he yelled to Blaze to consider the Northeast door their primary mode of escape, he unleashed several sustained bursts from his machine gun that knocked two of the attackers clean off their feet. Somewhere in the midst of all this, he also found the time to let out a ferocious roar that echoed throughout the cavernous warehouse.

In the southern half of the warehouse, the assailants firmly seized control of the battleground. Several of the attackers sprayed the area indiscriminately, clearing the path between them and their targets of nearly all civilian presence. Numerous occupants of the warehouse were scrambling for cover even as they were gunned down mercilessly in as they tried desperately to get out of the way. Their cries for mercy were answered only by the sharp crack of bullets that whipped through the air to cut their lives short as easily as one cuts a thread with scissors.

One of the gangers was gunned down as he ran for cover even as another of the gangers on the north side of the warehouse fell back, giving ground rapidly to the invaders. Seeing himself alone on the proverbial island with no hope of holding his ground and no other palatable options for retreat, the lone ganger in the southeast corner of the warehouse fled out the door he was guarding and into the night.

In the midst of the chaos, Max lay on the floor where he’d fallen when the explosions first went off. He watched in horror as people screamed and died all around him, as bullets and spells were tossed with casual familiarity. He watched in awe as one of the attackers ETG had shot staggered painfully back to his feet, apparently with every intention of continuing the fight!

My God! Who are these people, and what is so worth fighting for that he’d get up from THAT to get back into this madness? If this is life in the shadows, I need to find Keira and get her out of this insanity as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, as much as he tried, he couldn’t come up with anything to do that wouldn’t immediately get him killed. Unlike the others, he had absolutely no experience in anything remotely resembling a fight of this scale, and the initial chaos and surprise had paralyzed him into inaction.

He looked up just in time to see the shelving unit above him rock precariously, and immediately realized that he was in a very bad place to be if that shelf suddenly decided to fall over. Given the fact that John was climbing the shelf on the same side as him, if the shelf did fall over, it didn’t take his PhD level intelligence to figure out which way the shelf would fall. Quickly Max began to scramble out of the way, crawling as fast as he could away from the shelf to avoid being crushed in the event of what seemed like its imminent fall.

Once again in the shadows, a mere second had been the line between life and death for numerous people in the warehouse. It went without saying that there would be still more people who would call the next second to come their last on this Earth. Who exactly that would be, however, remained to be seen...

19:04:38 Saturday, 13 January 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace 1404 E. 14th Ave. Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Reign smiles at Tony when he opens the door, a soft expression that doesn't match her usual intensity of emotion. Her outfit, as well, is as different as Tony as ever seen. It's almost...common. A pair of dark slacks made of durable ripstop denier, a long sleeved ribbed turtleneck in charcoal, and a waist length black leather coat combine to form an image at odds with the exotic nature she's shown Tony to date. She slips inside the door, glancing around as if expecting someone.

"Hey. I just wanted to say thanks for doing this for me again. I really appreciate it."

19:06:45 Saturday, 13 January 2063-Capitol Hill Terrace 1404 E. 14th Ave. Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Tony grinned as Reign stepped inside the door, releaved as much to see her as to be doing something other than running from...whatever was out there.

"I couldn't think of a better way to spend a Saturday night," Tony replied jokingly, noticing her more subdued attire probably a lot more appropriate than what she had on last night, still looks damn good in it, he thought and the look around the apartment.

"Been doing a lot of that myself past couple of days," he said more somberly, commenting on the glance while walking over to where he'd draped his long armored coat over the couch. Shrugging the waterstained coat (complete with the faint outlines of the three gel rounds on the upper right torso that he'd taken in the garage on Thursday), he took the katana off the stand and threaded the scabbard through some loops on the inside of the coat, cinching up a couple of the velcro loops for a tight fit. It made a bulge on his left hand side, but it hung low enough to not get in the way most of the time.

It felt like he was putting on a uniform, and when he turned around, he was grinning slightly again, partly from not having to really hide who he was from Reign, partly from anticipation of actually maybe doing something to releave his creeping paranoia.

"I'm ready. So what's the plan? And would you like a drink before we go?" Tony asked, shrugging the items in his coat into a more comfortable position.

20:19:37 Monday 08 January 2063 - Radisson Suites Hotel, 3540 South Figueroa Street, Los Angeles, CFS

It was so wrong, just as she'd known all along, but wasn't forbidden fruit the sweetest?

She leaned back, shifting ever so slightly as liquid heat made her softly glowing skin radiant, dewy, and oh-so smooth. A slow, soft breath slipped from between her lips as she sank deeper into the sensuality of the moment while dark, heavy-lidded eyes focused lazily on the object of her desire. Soft music and flickering candlelight in the background tickled the edges of her awareness, teasing a pleasant haze brought on by steam and the very best champagne....

Cosmo couldn't hold back any longer, not when it was right in front of her.

Long, supple fingers reached out, her touch feathersoft and almost caressing as she lifted it. "Beautiful," she breathed, lips parted in anticipation as she brought it closer, admiring its weight, its scent, .. its vibrant red hue. It was all she could do to avoid devouring it all at once. She murmured something that sounded like "slow" but knew that she could not .. not when she'd been waiting so long, hoping for a moment just like this, knowing that seconds would seem like hours until she was satisfied.

Now!

There was a glorious moment of tense and release as she pushed it into her waiting mouth, letting its sweet juice run over her lips, trickling over her jaw and pooling at the base of her pulsing throat. Cosmo moaned softly, wanting more, needing to draw this moment out as long as possible as she knew that this was the last of her strawberries. She sighed blissfully, fingers trailing over the edge of the polished silver bowl beside her hot tub. The fresh, ripe, real fruit was one of several indulgences she'd allowed herself since checking into the Radisson and surely, it would not be the last.

She stretched, catlike, and turned over, resting her cheek against cool silver-veined marble. Why hide out in squalor when she could live like this, snug and secure in a four star suite? Her new apartments would be ready in the morning and a sleek new Suzuki Mirage was already waiting in the hotel parking lot.

The promise of answers, too, had kept her from moving forward these last few days. She'd received a brief message from Oracle earlier in the day. They were to meet at 22:00, but would 'he' be able to deliver?

Cosmo eyed the slick black suit she'd pulled out for the evening and wondered again if it was really safer to head out to one of the cyber cafes down the street than it was to use the trodes from the comfort of her own room. Leaving meant tempting the fates by being caught on any one of several dozen security cameras but if she stayed .. any program could trace her to the hotel's wireless network and pinpoint her room within moments. At least the coffee shop she'd cased had some cover from the street and with enough people using the network it would take some time to find her. There was also a chance that anybody chasing her would avoid action in such a public location.

A very small chance.

21:55:16 Monday 08 January 2063 - Los Angeles LTG

She wasn't nervous, not quite nervous as she approached the familiar roman pillars that marked the location of Palatine although it did seem as though the Legionnaire's weapons shimmered with a more deadly glitter than she remembered. Even though she was resting peacefully in a quiet little nook inside the cafe there was a sense of tremendous space beyond those columns and, of course, the inevitable sense that she was being watched.

But wasn't she always?

21:57:34 Monday 08 January 2063 - Los Angeles LTG

Oracle waits for Cosmo alone, its eyeless face staring into the flames burning sullenly in the heart of a bronze brazier. It nods at her approach, once more opening the pale doorway to a private room.

“Here is the information that I have uncovered in response to your questions,” it begins without preamble.

“First, the serial numbers you have provided me represent integral parts of a large, fast optical data switch. Combined, they would serve as a router with over a ten terapulse per second capacity. This kind of router is only used in large server farms or mainframe installations.”

“Of an organization employing otaku, or the tribe itself operating in Los Angeles I have found no data beyond what you provided to substantiate your suspicions. However, several of my sources have suggested that the title Kald is a homonym for the adjective called. It is a popular belief among otaku tribes that they are in contact with a higher order intelligence resident in the matrix, something called the Resonance. If true, an otaku might symbolize his or her patronage of the Resonance by adopting the name Called or some derivative thereof.”

Oracle pauses for a moment, and Cosmo has the unmistakable sense that the hesitation is brought about by some kind of discomfort or reluctance to speak. The faceless icon clears its throat before proceeding.

“There has been speculation, and I must stress that this has no supporting data whatsoever, that there are a number of artificial intelligences at work in the matrix today. It may be that one of these AIs could act as a patron for an otaku tribe. In which case the members of that tribe might describe themselves as called by the AI in some fashion.”

“The motorboat with the registration number of N41335 is listed as the DEMETER out of Seattle. A five meter cabin cruiser manufactured by Bayliner, her owner is Milan Viddmar, 1209 Holland Ct, Seattle. Witness reports indicate that a vessel matching its description was fired upon by person or persons unknown yesterday. No criminal report was filed and no deaths or injuries were reported.”

“Last, the individual known as HardBitten indicates that you are dead. You were killed at 0244 01 November 2061 by an NSA CARAT team. He requests that you discontinue the use of this cover identity or risk suffering quote dire fragging consequences end quote.”

Oracle finishes its report with a trace of a smile in its voice.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

21:57:51 Monday 08 January 2063 - Los Angeles LTG

Well, at least he's alive, she smirked, and charming as ever.

It was perhaps the easiest fact to consider, in light of everything else in Oracle's report, so Cosmo began with what was easiest.

"Please, yes. Could you forward the message that HardBitten can get off his shy, sour, static-screened hoop and check his sources before threatening me with any of his dire fragging consequences?"

Of course, the idea that Oracle would be forwarding this message amused her greatly.

"You may also forward the contact information I gave you, if he requests it. Now, as for everything else...."

She paused for a moment to put her thoughts in order, again beginning with what was most obvious to her.

"I'd like you to investigate Milan Viddmar a bit. List occupation, associations, family connections, anything of that nature and especially if it seems suspect." No criminal report filed? Bull. Something isn't right here.

"Third. I'm curious about this Resonance. Could you compile a sample of information on the subject? Nothing too extensive, but suitable for a novice?" It was a brief consideration to ask for something akin to an "Idiot's Guide to the Matrix," but she refrained. "Any data regarding these AIs and their apparent influence on the Otaku, or simply their relation to the Resonance itself would be appreciated."

She paused again, deciding not to pursue the data switch or the CARAT team. There were only four such teams active and it would do little good to investigate her own "murder." Covert Active Reconnaissance And Termination squads were black bag; totally denied by everyone. Government sanctioned 'runners.

Apparently the Government had wanted her dead. Or .. for her to appear dead. Hadn't the brunette that looked to be in charge of the attack told her to say "good night?" Was she reading too much into a simple turn of phrase?

Probably, and none of this answered the question of why she'd been brought out of stasis in the first place. One thing at a time, she supposed.

"That will be all for now, Oracle. I'd like to thank you for your continued assistance in this." Cosmo frowned slightly. "I will contact you if I think of anything else."

22:12:19 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Raincrest Apartments, East Tacoma, UCAS

Litany disconnected from public term and took a moment to re orient herself to the real world. Starting her scooter and carefully moving off of the sidewalk back onto the road she pulled up a sub window into her view and started reviewing the surveillance feed from Mosquito. Let's see if anythings happened in the last few minutes, probably not, but it's always a good idea to check things out before exposing yourself...

21:59:32 Monday 08 January 2063 - Los Angeles LTG

Oracle nods in response to Cosmo's requests.

"Of course. Be advised, though, that any information I provide to you about either the Resonance or any Artificial Intelligence will be hearsay and conjecture. No official data has been compiled or released substantiating the existance of either of the two. At the present time, they are viewed as 'matrix legends', akin to urban legends such as the 'Campus Scream Killer' or 'Spring-heeled Jack'.

Also, while public domain information surveillance is cheap, if you want any detailed private information regarding Milan Viddmar the price goes up. Hacking the necessary databases accrues a certain amount of risk that is only dissipated through nuyen.

The time period remains the same, though. Twenty four hours."

The icon bows again, returning them both to the shadowed halls of Palatine with a wave of its hand.

22:14:48 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - Raincrest Apartments, East Tacoma, UCAS

Nothing substantial has changed about the area in the few minutes Litany has spent immersed in virtual reality. Vehicular traffic through the area, though light, is steady. Pedestrians are few and far between, most people trying to limit their exposure to the bitter winds slicing in from the Sound. Luckily the snow had stopped for the time being, but the city still shivered in the icy grip of winter. A few faint stars were visible overhead, the smog layer having thinned to a mere wisp of its usual thickness. Surveillance drones winged silently through the chill air, collision avoidance strobes briefly highlighting their positions. From somewhere nearby came the sudden sharp rattle of gunfire, followed seconds later by the rising wail of sirens.

January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

The walls of the construct were the same haze gray as that of the research center. Winn's armor looked distinctly out of place, but it wasn't a problem since he was running on the corporate server. He didn't have to worry about any wage slave or consumers complaining that his icon was ruining the system sculpture.

"All right, let's do this."

Across the room, Fernandez nodded. With a series of deft strokes she brought the wireless interface live. Winn watched as the network diagnostics running down the left hand side of his vision switched from standby amber to green. A haze of gray represented the physical dimensions of the server broadcast, and he stepped forward to the edge.

"All right, I'm at the limit of node one. I'm reaching out to node two."

Winn pressed through the hazy boundary separating the primary broadcast node in the mesh network from nodes two and three. A faint distortion rippled through his vision, and he glanced at the diagnostic monitors for a moment.

"I'm through to node two, checking links."

"I'm showing you green across the board, throughput at ninety percent, solid link." Fernandez's fingers danced over her keyboard, the holographic display in front of her flickering as it cycled through the requested status reports.

"That's enough to satisfy the last cold test." Winn called up a list of the experiment's success metrics. "You can get on the line to Keyes. Tell him that he can go live with the mesh network."

Fernandez grinned, a mercenary gleam in her eye. "My pleasure."

21:14:08 January 2063 - Fishing vessel Busca Flete, North 17 deg 04' 31" West 71 deg 37' 08"

The night sky overhead glimmered with a vast carpet of stars, an infinity of light doubled by the glasslike surface of the water. Cavanaugh rubbed his back against the rough wooden hull of the boat, scratching a particularly troublesome itch. He lay sprawled on one of the prep tables bolted to the open deck aft of the wheelhouse, his feet propped up on the reel to the port trawl line. Five hundred meters of steel braided wire drifted behind the vessel, bright flourescent buoys spaced every ten meters or so marking the individual baited lines dangling down into the darkened waters. After a moment he lifted the brim of the wide floppy hat he wore and looked to the open door of the pilothouse.

"Oye! Samio!"

No answer came from the dimly lit cabin. Cavanaugh pitched his empty beer bottle through the door, hitting the sink with the sound of breaking glass and eliciting a grunt followed by a muttered curse. A heavy set man dressed in a stained Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts stumbled out of the pilothouse and over to the starboard railing. Samio grunted again, followed by the sound of urine splashing over the side into the water. Cavanaugh waited for a minute.

"Oye! maleton!"

Samio hawked and spit over the side of the vessel, stretching his arms behind his head and staring out towards the distant, dim horizon.

"Que carajo quieres?"

"Cerveza." Cavanaugh held out his empty beer coozy. Samio grunted, heading back into the pilothouse.

"Get it yourself, you lazy fragger."

Cavanaugh threw the beer coozy through the cabin door, which resulted in none of the satisfying noise of the earlier bottle. Rolling to his feet, he ambled across the deck to where the large styrofoam cooler rested. Flipping open the top, he pulled out another chill bottle. A sound like distant thunder rolled across the water. Cavanaugh straightened abruptly, eyes scanning the darkened sky. Samio stuck his head through the door, suddenly very awake.

"Weather?" he asked. Cavanaugh shook his head.

"No idea."

The vessel rolled suddenly, tossing Cavanaugh off his feet and sending him skidding towards the port side railing. Samio shouted in surprise, grabbing at the cabin door to steady himself. Beer bottles and fishing tackle cascaded to the deck. Cavanaugh wrapped an arm around one of the table legs to steady himself as the boat pitched back to starboard.

"What the frag was that?!"

Samio shook his head, slamming his hand down on the switches that brought the deck floods to life.

"No clue, but let's get the lines in pronto!"

The two men scrambled to their work.

22:16:31 January 2063 - 300 km north of Belmopan, Campeche, Aztlan

First Guard Jose Mieran Morales froze in position, listening, his eyes scanning the darkened jungle around the patrol. His point man motioned, tapping his head and chopping his hand forward. Morales gave him a thumbs up before glancing back to the rest of his squad. He cut his hand sideways before spreading his fingers twice. His men, hard faced, nodded, disappearing off the narrow trail into the underbrush. Morales felt a grim pride within him at the discipline of his troops. Moisture from the jungle around them hung heavy in the air, beading on the narrow strips of exposed skin of his face and wrists. He glanced from side to side again, silently shifting the weight of his 7mm carbine slung muzzle down across his chest.

Allende picked that time to return, materializing out of the thick jungle foliage like a ghost from the darkness. He pointed to his eyes, then counted fifteen, tapped his shoulder, then his hand, before cutting his hand horizontally across his throat.

Fifteen rebels, rifles and small arms, in ambush ahead translated Morales. He nodded, motioning in a circle with his arm. The rest of his troopers snaked forward from their concealed positions, kneeling in a circle around him. He pointed at three; Alvarez, Herrera, and Dominguez. The three men nodded, disappearing into the underbrush again to take up defensive positions. Morales tapped the front of his faceshield, looking at Rayon. The electronic warfare specialist nodded, bringing the squad's network back online. Using the map overlay, Allende sketched out the location of the rebel ambush and its probable fields of fire. Morales split the patrol into two, with six of his ten continuing on the path towards the ambush. The last fireteam would break off and hit the rebels from the flank once they engaged the rest of the patrol. Faces, streaked and mottled with camouflage paint, nodded in grim eagerness, each man reading his assigned location and duties from the network. Morales tapped his helmet again, motioning down the trail. One by one his troopers slipped into the darkness of the jungle, silent and lethal.

Fifty meters ahead, the trail curved around the base of a small hill, opening up into an uneven slope cut through by a pair of thin streams. Tree cover stopped halfway down the hill, with the only vegetation being shoulder high ferns and, closer to the water, dense thickets of rushes. Morales could see why the rebels had chosen this place for an ambush. He checked the mission chronometer counting down in the upper right corner of his vision. His flanking force should almost be in position.

The breeze pushed the leaves of the nearest brush against his arm, and Morales paused. The jungle was quiet. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he listened to the deadly silence. A faint rushing filled his ears, the sound of rising wind. Sudden screams filled the jungle, the sound of panicked men rushing through the underbrush. He brought his weapon up to his shoulder as the rebels burst from hiding, eyes wide with terror. Following them was a creature born of primal nightmare, a towering wall of ravenous darkness which erased the jungle as it flowed through it.

Morales switched his weapon to fully automatic, taking up the last slack in the trigger as death rolled towards him across the small clearing. He would not surrender to El Diablo without a fight.