16:04:21 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac shook her head slightly as she continued to study the electronic schematics as Drift left them up. Everything was planned, everything had been laid out, up to the point that deMedici arrived. What would come next was anyone's guess, and she didn't like the prospect of going in with just her blade. Somehow it seemed almost, childish, compared to the weight of the gun that now satisfyingly rested on her hip.

She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, her fingers brushing over familiar items that calmed her ever so slightly, but she was wound tight and she knew it was going to start to show.

"Anyone mind if I grab a smoke outside?"

Mac needed to clear her head, and she wasn't going to be able to do that sitting inside the warehouse watching everyone else get ready for the unknown.

She kept her hands in her pockets until she stepped just outside the door, certain that Drift would have eyes on her from above, but hoping he wouldn't be able to see the way her hands shook as she pulled them from her pockets. She struggled to light her cigarette as the chill of the air leeched any warmth from her. Finally taking a deep drag, the tip of her clove glowing in the fading light, she exhaled and tried to let go of the tension that made it hard to breathe.

16:10:08 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Suda glanced over her shoulder as Mac excused herself, watching as she ducked out the door to satisfy her habit. The thin cat shaman turned to Kovacs.

"You should have disposed of her after the job. Or anytime, really. Time was, you would have just solved the problem. You're getting soft in your old age."

"How long will the ward be good for?" Kovacs didn't look at her as he asked the question, still manipulating the virtual construct.

"Two weeks. Both myself and Tristan are tuned through."

"Good."

Several more minutes passed in silence. Tristan was laying on one of the cots, his arm thrown over his eyes, while Drift was busy at the console again. Suda stretched, rolling her shoulders out. Kovacs collapsed the construct with a swift gesture, orienting himself in reality again before taking a step towards her.

"Suda," he asked, his voice the same cold mechanism as before, "how fast are you?"

The cat shaman smiled, resting her head against his chest. "Oh, Kovacs, don't you know nothing turns a girl on more than when you subtly threaten her life?"

When the samurai didn't respond, she sighed, dropping her arms and stepping back. "All right, I'll behave."

She watched him nod and turn away, headed towards the same door that Mac had used.

16:13:57 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac had just lit her second cigarette when Kovacs came through the door, she tensed for an instant before she realized who it was and relaxed back against the wall of the warehouse, in a casual lean, one booted foot pressed firmly against the concrete and ready to bolt if necessary.

She took a long, deep drag from her cigarette and frowned slightly.

“If you’re out here to clear your head, we’re a lot worse off than I thought.”

She exhaled a long stream of smoke, feeling her control come back. Each second that ticked by and brought them closer to their impending meeting with de Medici made her fear start to transform to adrenaline, and adrenaline fueled her to do crazy things. Like climb into bed with assassins or contemplate working for the Vory. Then again so did loyalty. The corners of her lips turned up in a wry smile as she studied Kovacs in the fading light.

“Do we have a contingency in place if things go all kinds of sideways tonight?”

16:19:11 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs shook his head, his mouth twisting from the thin compressed line it held for a moment. His eyes traveled the length of the street, the warehouses, their roofs, and the airspace overhead. Mac thought for a moment that he was restless and expressing an operational form of paranoia. As she stood close, though, she could feel the energy radiating off him, and realized that underneath his carefully casual expression shimmered a bonfire of action barely held in check. Gently, carefully, she insinuated herself against him, listening with her body as the stress slowly evaporated from him. After a minute, she feels his arm slide around her waist.

"If it goes bad tonight, stick close. There's a fire exit on the North wall of the bar, with stairs to street level. If we can rendezvous with Drift, we'll do so. Otherwise we grab a ride back here to the warehouse, grab the go kits, and head out of town."

16:23:09 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

As she felt Kovacs relax, so did she, his arm around her waist steadying her as Mac nodded her understanding. She rested her forehead against his chest for a moment, finding solace in the smell of him, citrus and adrenaline mixed with the indescribable scent of cold. As she looked up, she took a small step back regretfully letting his arm slip from her waist.

She forced herself to compartmentalize everything she was feeling and focus on the job. Kovacs could see it in her eyes for an instant just before Mac took one last drag from what was remaining of her cigarette and crushed it out beneath her boot.

“Is there a dress code for tonight?”

A casino, how fitting. It’s like going home.

16:28:14 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"Your Actioneer and form-fit. There are enough variables in tonight's equations that I need you ready to handle things if they go south," replied Kovacs. He checked the mission clock running in the corner of his vision. "Suda and Tristan are leaving in ten minutes. We'll be thirty minutes behind them."

Mac nodded, checking her commlink by reflex. "I'll be ready."

The tall samurai nodded, his eyes once more scanning the street before he turned back to disappear into the warehouse.

16:41:49 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac followed close to Kovacs as they stepped back inside the warehouse. She stopped just behind Drift at the bank of computer screens and glanced over the internal cameras. Gauging where she could change, she grabbed her needed gear and slipped behind one of the sheeted plastic walls, the slight privacy was welcomed as she slipped into unfamiliar clothing.

She focused on getting into her gear and getting comfortable with the feel and was only aware of the time passing as she heard Tristan and Suda leave and the warehouse door roll back down. She transferred a few essential items from various pockets into those of tonight's outfit, popping a piece of gum between her lips as she stepped back into the main space of the warehouse, joining Kovacs and Drift going over their own final preparations.

“Are we all going to be in each other’s heads tonight?” She tapped lightly against her earbuds that were already nestled in her ear.

16:58:13 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs nodded. "You're in the network already, Drift has the feeds piped to you. All you have to do is pull in what you want to see and listen to. Don't overdo it, though. It's easy to get distracted when you're not used to moving with a tactical overlay."

Mac frowned, fighting against her natural instinct to bristle at his suggestion. "All right, but show me what you've got first."

The tall samurai didn't argue, reaching through the network to manipulate her AR. Data sprang to life in a forty percent mask overlaying her vision and she blinked in surprise. Kovacs had the skeletal schematic for the casino in his central vision block, while four smaller windows occupied the corners. The lower left was a false-color IR/low-light overhead view of the warehouse block, remoted from what Mac assumed was one of Drift's surveillance drones. The upper left was flickering mosaic of images that shifted back and forth dizzyingly fast. It took a moment for her to realize that he was echoing Drift's display as the rigger sorted through his own information feeds. The upper right was a view from her eyes, while the lower right was Tristan's view.

Mac shook her head, banishing the four independent windows while shrinking the main one to a quarter view. "How do you stand it?" she asked.

"Years of practice," replied Kovacs, without a hint of irony in his voice. "One of my oldest mentors explained to me the power of the man/machine interface, and how to utilize the data to increase situational awareness. Most people don't really use their hardware. They find one or two settings that work for them, something tweaked a little from factory standard, and call it good. But the gear is capable of so much more."

"How often do you have multiple feeds coming in?" Mac suspected the answer but she had to ask.

"No days off," he said in reply. He motioned for her to follow and she did, realizing that Drift had the Roadmaster fired up and it was time to depart. To her surprise, they climbed into the front bucket seats of the heavy duty cargo van. Glancing behind her, she found the rigger strapped into a couch that replaced the front bench seat, his eyes closed as he ran the network. Once more the garage door scrolled up, and they disappeared into the growing darkness.

17:09:47 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

As Mac settled into the front seat, she remained fairly quiet as she manipulated various combinations of overlays until she found settings that didn't overwhelm her or make her want to throw up. She had to admit Kovacs was right, pulling in too many details was easily distracting as she noticed she was paying more attention to everything in the periphery of her vision and in her ear instead of her immediate surroundings.

Shaking it off she settled back against the seat and tired to remain calm as much as she could, her fingers drumming repetitive patterns against her knee as they drove on the only outward sign of her anxiety. She cast a sideways glance towards Kovacs and found him in his usual state, slightly distant, emotionally unreadable and yet primed with his next action held just in check. Mac found some level of comfort in their routine returning slightly to normal, just enough that it took the edge off and settled her down a notch.

"Anything in particular you need me to do tonight?" She asked softly as she stared out the front windshield.

17:14:37 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Northbound HWY 99 into Downtown, Seattle

"Keep your eyes and ears open," answered Kovacs. "Listen to what de Medici says, and more importantly, to what he doesn't say. Don't worry about context, or that you've never done this before, fresh perspective is important. We'll share notes afterwards."

The tall samurai lapsed into silence once more as the neon and glass spires of downtown Seattle loomed closer in the windscreen.

17:33:06 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

The Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino was a relic of the past. Built in the early 40’s, it embodied the latest technology of the time as well as the ebullient neo-Japanese fusion design craze. Two decades later, though, it was surpassed in both by the sleeker, more subtle modern resorts. Careful upgrades kept the Gates in parity with the services offered, but continually hampered by the disquieting undertone of its age. To Mac it seemed a perfect setting for the meeting that would determine the next course of her life.

For all his silence, Kovacs seemed oddly relaxed as they strode through the parking garage entrance into the casino, his shoulders no longer tense and stiff even if his eyes still maintained their restless scan.

To Mac’s surprise, they were thoroughly ignored by everyone on the floor, a strange feeling for her since she was used to drawing at least a little attention from the men. It was only when she realized how she and Kovacs looked in their Actioneers that she understood why. Every corporate wageslave and manager saw the plain lines of their clothes and immediately dismissed them as support staff. They blended seamlessly and anonymously into the background.

Rounding the main thoroughfare past the craps and roulette tables, they turned up the wide staircase that led them to restaurant row. Mac saw Tristan parked at one of the slot machines, a basket of waffle fries in his lap. His eyes met hers in one of the chrome strips of the machine, and she thought he might have winked.

You’re clear. Four bodyguards passed me ten minutes ago, uncertain if they belong to the Johnson.

Kovacs replied to Tristan’s text with a double mic click. There wasn’t any sign of Suda.

A smaller staircase led the pair up from the ground floor to the mezzanine occupied by the Southern Star. Unlike the chrome and glass of the casino floor, the bar is done in brass and teak, accented by thick green sea-glass. Old fashioned prints of racing sloops and trimarans decorate the walls, along with a mix of Polynesian masks and tropical flowers. Kovacs brushed past the maître d, who glanced up with the briefest of welcomes before turning towards the next customer. Mac followed, her face tense and neutral, as they made space for themselves against the bar.

The back wall of the lounge shared the same floor to ceiling windows as the main restaurants of the casino did, the whole level projecting out into the dark waters of Puget Sound. Mac was uncertain what the designers hoped to accomplish with that particular architectural fiat, even with the powerful floodlights lining the windows, and the artificial reef structures, precious little sea life was visible beyond the reinforced Plexiglas.

Figures highlighted themselves red in Mac’s vision as Kovacs scanned the bar. It took her a minute, but she picked out the tells that allowed him to identify the bodyguards that were in place to watch over their principle while he conducted business. She shook her head minutely. Although her instincts in this milieu were working, they were tuned for the wrong signals. Kovacs rested his hand on her hip, and she glanced reflexively at him. A sliver of a smile showed through the gray emotionless mask he wore, and Mac took a calming breath. A few minutes ticked by as the ebb and flow of the bar swirled around them.

Johnson inbound, plus one.

Tristan included an icon with his text. Kovacs yawned.

Roger.

Ambient noise increased as he opened his mic to catch all the subsequent conversation.

Mac watched from the bar as de Medici and the bodyguard with him approached the maître d, holding a brief conversation before being shown to one of the larger circular tables next to the rear windows. He sat and opened up his attache case, withdrawing a slim piece of electronics that he set on the table.

She glanced over at Kovacs, who was calmly waiting, his eyes still scanning restlessly. The minutes dragged past. Finally he nodded to her, and they made their way across the bar to where de Medici was seated. The slim corporate shark smiled at their approach, glancing once at the designer commlink that graced his wrist.

"1755. You are as precisely punctual as always, Kovacs."

17:56:23 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

Walking into the aging casino brought Mac back to her childhood with a force that almost caused her to skip a step. She had made it a habit to avoid the casinos with clients in the past even though it meant giving up good money, it was just too hard to “go home.” Tonight was just adding insult to injury as she slowed her walk just slightly to trail a step behind Kovacs and get her head on straight.

As the pair made their way in from the parking garage, Mac scanned the floor, seeking out the classic tricks still in play to "trap" players inside the casino by disorientation. Looking about the rows of card games she quickly calculated who the main players were and she sussed out where the pit boss, table managers and floormen were stationed or congregating. She marked each of them for her own reference knowing they’d be the ones on the floor to possibly be outside the initial reach of any security teams de Medici may have turned.

As they waited at the bar, Kovacs' touch was reassuring for the moment before they joined de Medici at the booth, where it felt like they were descending into a proverbial snake pit. Her skin crawled at sight of the man before them, but her face showed only a cold neutrality as she minded what Kovacs had told her and she tried to read both what de Medici was about to say and what he might convey without words.

18:11:46 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

Kovacs nodded, a simple gesture which managed to convey not only acknowledgement but also raw disdain. Mac suppressed a grin. For all his talk of simplicity, the tall samurai was no stranger to eloquent body language. de Medici brushed aside the implication with a small twist of his fingers.

"Yes, of course, to business."

The slim corporate operator unrolled a flat display panel onto the table, powering it up and manipulating the controls. Unlike a holographic display, this one gave the illusion of a third dimension stretching down into the table's surface. A grid of Seattle's streets glowed to life.

"At 0300 on Wednesday morning there will be an ‘event’. It will affect certain portions of the metroplex, mostly downtown and the waterfront areas of Tacoma. But it will also cause a total power interruption at this building here. This is one of three corporate offline data storage facilities maintained by Yamatetsu, the largest of the three. When the event occurs, I will be inside the building supervising a download of project data to one of the servers. Your job will be to enter and extract me. Afterwards, we will travel to this address where I have arranged follow on transportation."

"The Yamatetsu building is designed to fail secure should a power interruption last long enough for the building’s back-up generators to engage. Your entry will have to be forcible. I have procured a set of building blueprints and security laydown diagrams for you. These blueprints are accurate as of time of construction. I cannot access any more current data for fear of alerting the facility’s security personnel. Keep in mind that you run the same risk as well."

"I will be the only individual being transported, and I will have only my attaché case with me, no other cargo. After arriving at the drop off point, if anyone other than this individual is present, you must eliminate them. In all likelihood they will be plainclothes Yamatetsu security forces attempting to recover me for the corporation. There should be no delay in between extraction from the data storage facility and the transportation rendezvous.”

“Where in the building will you be located?” asked Kovacs. In response, the AR model rotated, the view zooming into what appeared to be a foyer with multiple workstations spaced around a curved wall that overlooked the server farm.

“These are the central data entry work stations. I will be located there while I supervise the download of project data.” de Medici helpfully highlighted the area and spangled it with several UMS (meta)human icons.

"Two hundred fifty thousand nuyen for the team, half up front." The money amount took a second to register with Mac, Kovacs' tone was as bland as if he were discussing the weather.

"One seventy five," countered de Medici. "I've done all the work for you, all you have to do is get in and pull me out."

Kovacs shook his head. "If it were a milk run, you would have contracted someone cheaper. You're anticipating a vicious security response because you're taking corporate property with you. You wanted the best bad enough to use her life as leverage. But the best doesn't come cheap. Two hundred."

de Medici frowned, rolling the numbers through his mind. "All right, two hundred."

Reaching into his attache case, he passed four certified credsticks to Kovacs, who covered them casually with his hand.

18:19:22 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

Mac studied the pair of men who sat across from them in the booth and tried to look for the cracks in their facades, their so called tells as de Medici laid out the job and she tried to ferret out the lies from the truth.

Trying to read de Medici was like trying to read a piece of honed steel, he was nearly devoid of any physical tells and his practiced voice left her with only assumptions about what he was leaving out of the details and his plans.

His bodyguard however spoke vague volumes. Subtle glances and physical tics were his giveaways of an action just held in check, much the way her mentor operated. But what the trigger would be exactly, Mac was left unsure, and that ratcheted up her alertness and put her slightly more on edge.

Up to this point, Mac had been able to maintain her own facade that she presented to de Medici, devoid of any betrayal of her emotions or feelings that were just beneath the surface. When she was reminded of how her life was being casually used as leverage to put them all in this situation, it was enough to make her eyes narrow slightly and her jawline to tighten in anger. She forced herself to bite her tongue for the time being.

She watched the money change hands, the final step that would seal their fates in a short five days.

Five. Days.

Keep it together girl, just a little while longer.

Her eyes moved from de Medici to his bodyguard to the reflections of the patrons at the bar in the glass behind the corporate shark, grateful that Kovacs remained relaxed but at the ready beside her.

18:28:03 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

de Medici closed his attache case, his gaze finding first Mac, then Kovacs.

"Anything else? Care to join me for a drink?"

Kovacs stood. "See you Wednesday morning."

Mac was right behind him, her movements a tad less graceful than she liked simply due to the adrenaline boiling through her blood. Whatever the company man's thoughts were, his mask of bland professionalism was firmly back in place. She couldn't read a thing through the opaque expression as she and Kovacs swept past on their way out of the bar.

Fall back in echelon to the garage.

Mac glanced at Kovacs, the tall samurai gesturing her towards a different path than the one they entered on. Climbing two flights of stairs, they emerged into the dim chill of the parking garage. Across the way to their right, she saw Tristan and Suda exit the stairs next to the main elevators. Together the four of them climbed aboard Drift's Roadmaster.

"It's a trap," said Tristan as the rigger pulled out onto the city streets.

18:32:41 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Gates Undersound Hotel and Casino, Pier 69, Downtown, Seattle

Mac found herself nodding to Tristan’s short but poignant assessment without even really meaning to, and stopped herself. She had planned to keep her thoughts on their meeting with de Medici close to the vest until there was a point in the discussion of the meet that she felt confident enough to chime in. However, a few things had definitely raised her concern during their short conversation, some of which she preferred to discuss with Kovacs alone.

18:39:54 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Southbound HWY 99 out of Downtown, Seattle

Traffic on the main thoroughfare was thick, the evening rush still choking the streets. The Roadmaster crawled through the sea of red brake lights, its onboard systems competent enough to maintain the distance from the vehicle in front of it that Drift could devote the majority of his attention to the discussion at hand.

Well, yeah, duh, he answered Tristan through the team's AR connection. Question is, which part of the job is the trap?

"Based upon his aura, he was telling the truth although that's not a completely reliable indicator," offered Suda. "I'm willing to bet that he's been trained in how to maintain steady emotions so as not to give anything away via Astral."

"The extraction part is probably real. Why put himself in jeopardy if all he wanted to do was kill us? I'll bet it's the part that comes after that's the double cross." Tristan rummaged through one of the utility lockers in back before coming out with a handful of individually wrapped granola bars. He offered one to Suda, who declined, and one to Mac, who accepted although more for having something to do with her hands than out of actual hunger.

"That will be our primary planning assumption," said Kovacs, his voice remote. "Drift, I want surveillance on that building soonest. Tristan, work the vectors for the drop off. We may need to set some counter-sniper, counter-assault charges. Suda, your usual voodoo if you would, please."

18:45:01 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Southbound HWY 99 out of Downtown, Seattle

Mac absentmindedly flipped the granola bar in her hand for a few moments before pocketing it and offering one of the few things she thought she could actually bring to the table at this point.

“I might have a possible way to leverage for information from the inside. Getting a better idea of a more up-to-date security plan for inside the storage center would be helpful, no?” She paused for a second, weighing if she really wanted to cross this bridge and just how far she would be willing to go to get the information.

“I know of a guy, a Lieutenant in corp security for Yamatetsu. I don’t know if he’s aligned with de Medici, if he’s one of the rank and file or if he’s someone we could use if the right.. pressure were to be applied.”

She shot Kovacs a slightly telling glance, one that let him know exactly what type of “connection” this would be to her.

“I’m willing to make the call if it’s an avenue we even want to explore. If there’s too much potential to raise red flags, I won’t even pursue it. I just figured if it came from someone inside security already…”

18:57:01 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Southbound I5 Downtown into Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs glanced at Tristan, who shrugged. "It's a risk, we don't know who he knows."

Who he knows might prove invaluable to us, though, interjected Drift.

"Set it up," Kovacs decided, nodding at Mac. "Let us know what kind of support you'll need for the meeting."

Mac nodded, wondering herself what kind of support she might need. Tristan's commlink buzzed and he turned away to answer it. The conversation was brief and he glanced towards Kovacs.

"How much?" asked the tall street sam.

"Plus one fifty," replied the swordsman.

Kovacs gave a sharp nod. "Make the buy."

Mac realized that it must be Demetria on the phone, responding to the shopping list that she and Tristan had dropped off earlier. Tristan closed the line.

"Ready by Tuesday morning."

"Good," was all Kovacs said, lapsing once more into brooding silence.

19:05:35 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Southbound I5 Downtown into Tacoma, Seattle

Mac sunk into the seat as Drift pointed the Roadmaster back towards the warehouse. She grew extra quiet as she processed her plans to lay the perfect trap for her mark. She was starting to tread into familiar territory, but instead of finding comfort in it, it stirred up a whole other set of feelings that she wasn't quite prepared for. Too much had changed in such a short amount of time.

"I'll put my part in motion when we get back to the warehouse. Drift, let's talk tech when we get back and the ball is rolling."

She wrung her hands as she thought more about the situation and why the thought of slipping back into her profession was making her suddenly so uncomfortable. She popped a piece of gum and stole a furtive glance at Kovacs before watching the city fly by outside the window.

19:08:26 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Southbound I5 Downtown into Tacoma, Seattle

You got it, replied Drift over the network. Then, surveillance is online.

Kovacs nodded wordlessly, and several data streams became available in the AR for Mac. Reading the datatags, the selected the overhead orbit, ghosting it into a corner of her vision at a fifty percent mask. The building looked unremarkable, an anonymous block of concrete, plastic, and mirrored glass surrounded by a thin copse of vegetation before the inevitable fenceline. She glanced sidelong at Kovacs, in time to catch the sliver of a smile cross his lips. She desperately wanted to ask him several questions, but not in mixed company.

"Might have an idea what the event our Johnson is referring to," said Kovacs. More data flowed into the network, although Mac guessed that this was from an outside researcher rather than the street sam himself. Possibly Isomer, although that would be quick work for even a veteran decker like him.

NYSE set to debut new, faster host system Wednesday morning.

Tristan whistled, long and low. "Think he's going to try another nanosecond buyout?"

19:08:26 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattlee

Mac was still busy in mostly her own headspace, trying to craft the perfect honeytrap for her potential resource when Tristan's words registered.

"Wait, you said another? You mean he's done this before?"

She chewed on her lip for a moment while she let this process.

"So either it didn't work a planned or he got away with it the first time and he just didn't get caught..."

Or he's a greedy son of a bitch who is out to get his, no matter the cost...Either way, he's dangerous.

Mac shook her head, not liking either possibility as the large garage door slowly rolled upward in front of them upon their return to the warehouse. She took her time getting out of the Roadmaster, winding her way back to the piles of her gear and changing back into street clothes before taking care of her form fit before putting that away as well.

She walked back out to the main portion of the space, finding Drift seated behind his consoles and Kovacs just to his right, discussing things in quiet, terse tones.

"Give me a minute to make this call and put this piece in motion and we can talk details of what it might take to make it happen."

She waited until she got the silent nod from Kovacs, feeling his eyes on her as she slipped to a quieter corner of the warehouse and dialed the burner number Frankie had given her.

She waited as it rang, a total of five times before a cool, mechanical electronic voice answered and confirmed the number she had dialed and nothing more. Waiting for the tone, she felt herself slipping back into familiar territory, doing the things she was good at, and that level of comfort could be heard in her voice as she left her message.

"Hi, my name is Scarlett, Paige mentioned you were looking for a new toy. I'd love to know the kind of games you're into and what exactly you're looking for. I have a feeling I might have just what you need. Give me a call, you've got my number."

Ending the call she smirked slightly at the game she was playing and walked back towards Drift and Kovacs while she waited to see if the call would ever come.

19:29:36 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Drift shook his head. "Not this Johnson. The nanosecond buyout happened back in 2033, when Damien Knight used a series of ultrafast stock manipulations to acquire 22 percent of Ares Macrotechnology. The same percentage owned by then-CEO Leonard Aurelius." He turned back to include Tristan and Kovacs in the conversation. "I thought afterwards the stock exchanges had monitoring installed to make sure no one else took advantage of that loophole."

"They did," confirmed Kovacs, "but he's not going after control of the corporation. He's extracting, remember? He's going to pull data from the corp's storage facility and then sabotage them under cover of a stock buyout. While they're busy scrambling to contain the damage, he'll disappear discretely and sell their secrets to the highest bidder in the shadows."

Tristan frowned. "That equation fits the variables, but there's something here that doesn't fit. He said the event is going to affect more than just the corporation, he talked about a larger geographic area. That seems like imprecise language if the distraction he's planning revolves around a hostile threat to corporate stock."

The three of them lapsed back into brooding silence.

19:47:03 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac’s eyes moved over the trio that surrounded her where she had grabbed a seat, her knees bouncing in a silent staccato rhythm that matched the riot of thoughts running through her head. She fished out a piece of bubblegum from a pocket and popped it into her mouth, the sickening artificial cherry flavor and the sugar rushing over her tongue was calming for an instant as she picked apart their meeting with de Medici in her head one more time before she decided to share her thoughts.

“So we’re all in agreement that he’s likely to have his point of drop-off be the point where he’s going to try to frag us over right?” If we make it that far that is. She raised her brow pointedly as the three of them slowly came out of their brooding silences to pay at least a little attention to her and so she kept talking.

“And he’s already given us the shoot-everyone-else-on-sight order which feels like he’s trying to pit us against someone else involved. We dispose of each other and he disappears into the night kind of deal. But here’s the thing that’s bugging me, he wanted you,” Mac paused for a second and cast her eyes on Kovacs to emphasize her point before she continued.

“He wanted your team to be the extraction team. If he’s really trying to leave with company property with him he trusts you enough to either get him out, or that you’ll… we’ll die trying to accomplish that. Either way he can be in the clear but like Tristan said, his ‘event’ is bigger than just the Yamatetsu data center and seems like too big of a distraction to have to orchestrate just to get him out.”

She stopped again as she was trying to put into words what seemed to make connections and sense in her head. Call it her intuition, her street smarts or just her gut, either way she took a breath and he turned all of her attention to Drift for an moment.

“Can you pull up a map that includes Downtown, the data center and Tacoma’s waterfront?”

While Drift made quick work of the request and the requested map sprung to life in front of them, she stole a glance at Kovacs and the look on his face and the slightest hint of a smile encouraged her to keep going with her thought process.

“So if his forcible extraction is just our part of the plan, who’s to say he didn’t hire another team like us only with a different specialty to run a second piece of his plan in tandem with him getting out. What if the piece of corporate property isn’t coming from the data center we’re getting him out of?”

Mac’s eyes went back to the map and studied the large portions of the city de Medici had eluded to and shook her head. The area was huge.

“His ‘event’ could create chaos and he’s going to manipulate it to his every advantage.”

19:55:47 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"Not just a pretty face after all," mused Suda, folding herself into a seated lotus amidst the group. She picked daintily at the second half of her sandwich. "She's right, though. Our Mr. Johnson seems the type to run multiple operations, both to ensure success of the primary mission as well as distraction."

She pinned Kovacs with a look while she swallowed her bite of sandwich. "We should put the word out and see if any of our fixers shopped a job or know who might have shopped it. At least we might garner some context about the event as well as his endstate goal."

Kovacs glanced at Tristan, who nodded. Suda continued before he could speak, though, reaching in with her hand to manipulate the shared data construct.

"Our target building has moderate astral security, with a pair of wards located inside. One will undoubtedly be the security command center, while the other is most likely the main power junction and back-up generator. They have a security spirit on hand, roving throughout the building. I didn't stay long enough to ascertain whether it made any roof patrols, but I doubt it. I suspect they also have a fiber optic surveillance network but again, I didn't loiter long enough to prove or disprove that assumption."

By this time, Drift had filled in the false color image with composite surveillance from his overhead drone, a real time data feed available in a window as well. Kovacs spun the building until the front door was visible, then zoomed in on the warning plaques mounted to the exterior. Tristan caught the implication underlying the admonition about no personal electronic devices or recording media inside.

"Aha. Faraday cage."

"Makes sense for a corporate data center, they wouldn't want to run the risk of someone broadcasting out or in." Kovacs was sifting data not visible to anyone else.

"You're going to have to be quick, it's unlikely that the allowable variances are more than half a percent." Drift seemed to know what Kovacs was working towards. Mac opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted by the ring of her commlink.

19:59:17 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac fought the childish urge to flip Suda off knowing it wouldn't help the situation no matter how nice it might feel in the moment. Even with her friction with the shaman, she listened to her breakdown of magical security at the data center filing it away for the future.

She still felt like she was barely treading water when it came to the team, their long standing years together obvious as each one of them easily anticipated the thoughts and moves of the other and left her more often with more questions than answers. Shaking it off she impulsively chewed her lower lip as her commlink vibrated with the incoming call and the number came up blocked in her vision.

“Sorry I need to take this, could be the guy I reached out to.”

She gestured to her commlink as she stood and stepped out of the immediate range of the rest of the team so they could continue plotting and discussing out of range of her mic. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before thumbing a pattern on her commlink to answer the call.

A full and sultry purr slipped from her lips with a single word as the call connected.

“Hello?”

20:03:27 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

"Hey, not sure how you got this number, but if you're one of the party girls then tonight's your lucky night!" The voice on the other end of the line is husky and masculine, full of self-assurance. Mac's mind filled in the details of his face: a strong jaw and aquiline nose, a straightforward gaze with warm eyes, but a smile that could turn calculating. It was a face she'd seen dozens of times. Unconsciously her voice lightened, her tone and inflection becoming more feminine.

"I'm down to party, sugar," she replied. "I can go all night if the price is right."

An eager chuckle filled the line. "Well we'll see about that. Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way. Ask for Will Williamson. Can you make it by 2200?"

Mac fed the address into her commlink, a small measure of relief filling her when it spit out a destination only a dozen kilometers away, just north of the border between Tacoma and Downtown Seattle. "I'll see you then," she purred, closing the call.

20:10:41 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac closed the distance she put between her and the rest of the team quickly, Kovacs and Tristan turning their eyes expectedly towards her and she answered with a simple nod.

"I've got the in, but it's on an extremely accelerated timetable. Hotel Paradise in just under two hours from now. How do you want me to play this, I mean, what do we need from him to help us the most on the inside?"

She closed her eyes slowly, blinking away the fatigue that threatened to take hold, trying to remember the last time she pulled a night like this.

"He sounds a lot like your typical young party boy mixed with a healthy dose corporate arrogance." She shrugged slightly not knowing anything about "Will" beyond that. "It's not far from here, but I'm going to have to get ready."

She gestured to her jeans and t-shirt. "This isn't going to get me through his front door. It's your call guys, what do you need me to do?"

20:14:09 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Tristan glances at Kovacs, who shrugs. "It is Friday night, after all."

Drift disappears into the back of the Roadmaster, then returns a minute later with a slim black case, slightly larger than a pack of Mac's cigarettes.

"It's a keycard copier," he explains in response to her look. "Switch the power on here and when the LED goes green swipe his corp ID, through. Shouldn't take more than thirty seconds. It'll give us a leg up on their access encryption. We can get the ID to Isomer an he can mickey up a couple more keycards that'll get us through the gate."

Mac hefted the unit before glancing at Kovacs. The tall samurai nodded. "Go get ready, I'll drive and cover you while you're inside."

20:52:38 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac opened her mouth to make a quip about how it wasn't going to be the kind of a party she could bring a date, but stopped herself short as she knew there was no way Kovacs would let her get near the place alone. She settled for a nod of acceptance before she made her way back to to her things, rummaging around and pulling out strategic pieces of clothing, makeup and specifically a small teal box setting each one on the cot in front of her. She tried to settle into an accelerated version of her old routines knowing she was working against the clock. Only this time was different and the stakes were higher, and yet she carefully placed her Browning and its holster beside her bag with no intention of bringing it along.

Adrenaline ran through her as she changed clothes, each piece she slipped on picked for a particular reason, with a specific effect in mind. The skirt was short, the silk halter the same one she had worn to lunch with Kovacs, the heels were high. She brushed out her hair and kept her makeup classic but defined. She needed to catch and keep her mark's attention for the evening, at least until she could get his security card. She dabbed on her favorite perfume and her ritual was complete and she found peace in that routine as an almost predatory smile curved her glossed lips.

Opting for an insurance policy outside of the assassin who would have her back, she turned her attention to the box of chips, street drugs and other dark novelties. She opened the box and hesitated for a moment before cherry picking a few things and tucking them into the small clutch beside the key card copier, her cigarettes and cherry gum. She slipped around her wrist and zipped closed. Straightening the hem of her skirt she walked back out to the group, the sound of her stilettos against concrete hiding the slightly excited breaths she took.

Sliding up along side Kovacs, she reached for her coat and turned her face towards him.

"Are you ready, or is there anything else we need to do before we go?"

20:57:26 Friday, 12 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs shook his head. "Nope, let's roll."

Tristan followed them over to the truck, looking unhappy but smart enough not to say anything about it.

"Keep 'em tracking while we're gone," instructed Kovacs. "I'll have a line open. As soon as I know a clearer return time I'll update you."

"Be careful," advised Tristan. The heavy diesel of the truck drowned out anything more he might have said, and Kovacs backed from the warehouse into the street. Silence filled the cab, and Mac shifted uncomfortably. Just a week ago what she was about to do would have seemed so familiar and boring, but now was subtly wrong, alien and out of focus. Not even her usual outfit was enough to settle her nerves, feeling ill-fitting and different. She glanced over at Kovacs, trying to read something in the mask-like set of his jaw. But his face betrayed nothing, and she knew better than to try and divine something from his inhumanly alert eyes.

After a moment, though, she felt his hand cover hers where it rested on the center console between the bucket seats, his long fingers curling about her palm in a gentle squeeze. She squeezed back, and felt her shoulders relax. The truck rolled on into the night.

21:51:49 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

It hardly qualified as paradise. The hotel was a squat, two story affair, arranged in a large U shape around a central parking lot. The office at one end rented rooms by the hour, payment deducted from a credstick slotted in an external reader before a keycard was slid through the armored slot in the plascrete structure. Mac had seen a hundred motels just like it, their rooms all uniformly anonymous and similar. She fidgeted, resisting the urge to check her make-up in the mirror of the visor one more time. She and Kovacs had been sitting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes already, watching and waiting.

Six minutes ago, a black Toyota Elite sedan pulled into the parking lot, incongruous in the neighborhood but not that out of place at a destination which was clearly designed for illicit rendezvous. The man who exited fit her mental image of Will Williamson well enough: early thirties, full head of carefully coiffed hair, expensive, well tailored suit. He didn't bother with the office, clearly a regular visitor, instead going directly to room 14.

Kovacs glanced at Mac. "Keep your commlink open. If you say my name I'll be through the door in ten seconds flat."

21:58:22 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac nodded slightly, far too aware of what would happen if she did have to say his name. She closed her eyes to the instant flood of memories from the night they met, her mouth going dryer then it had been already.

“Let’s hope I don’t need you to play the knight in shining armor tonight.” Her voice was flat and distant with no trace of her usual playfulness or bravado. She drew a deep breath and let it go slowly through slightly pursed lips once, and then a second time.

Mac reached for her clutch, but instead of reaching for the door she opened her bag and plucked a small foil pack from its depths, tearing it open with her teeth before carefully removing its contents. She made sure the protective backing was in place of the hair-thin dermaplastic patch before she raised her hips up off the front seat slightly and slipped the patch between her skin and the hint of red and black lace beneath her skirt.

“My personal insurance policy,” She offered in explanation in the half-light that filled the truck’s interior.

“Now or never, right?” She glanced at the time before she reached for the door and stepped out into the parking lot. She pulled her coat around her against the chill of the night air, leaning back into open door of the cab. “Watch your back out here too, I’ll try to make it quick.”

She stepped away from the truck without another word and firmly shut the door as she made her way towards the front office instead of making a bee-line towards Room 14. She’d play the game by Will’s rules, for the time being anyway. Once she was inside the office, she brought her cold fingers to her lips as she carefully looked around the bleak space. The open line between her and Kovacs crackled slightly in her ear, reminding her just how awkward this situation was about to become. She managed a grim smirk as she stepped her way to the dirty, scratched ballistic-resistant plastic window where a kid who was barely her own age looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. She knocked against the plastic and feigned boredom by inspecting her nails.

“I’m looking for a Will Williamson?”

22:03:19 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

The greasy, overweight clerk barely visible through the scratched and stained glass gestured towards the row of rooms to Mac's right.

"Room 14, sweetmeat."

Mac smirked, turned, and made her way down the line of numbered doors until she could knock on the panel stenciled 14. After a few seconds, the door opened, giving her a close look at Will Williamson. He was simultaneously familiar and alien to her, the toned body beneath the bone pale collared shirt and expensive gray slacks was the product of a diligent regimen of diet and exercise, the smile that didn't reach his eyes the practiced gesture of corporate training. She'd seen a hundred just like him in her lifetime, each with a similar fake name, each paying in certified cred to share an hour or two with her in an equally run-down motel as this one.

"C'mon in," gestured Will, stepping back to give Mac a path into the small room with its single queen bed.

22:11:27 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac let her eyes rove across the small space before she accepted the invitation and stepped inside the room. She let her fingers trail over the expensive fabric of his shirt, feeling the muscle that was hidden beneath as she brushed past him. She casually slipped out of her coat, tucking her clutch inside a sleeve before tossing it on the small chair nearest to her, giving him a great view of her from behind that was filled with skin, a tight skirt and heels.

“So are you ready to party sugar?”

She purred as she looked back at Will from over one shoulder. She slowly turned to face him, casually looking up at him from beneath her lashes, carefully and methodically attempting to push all the right generic buttons with him until she figured out exactly e what he was into and then how quickly she could get out of there. Mac slipped into her old routine easily enough, feeling herself detach from herself and go into the headspace so she could get through the night ahead of her. The look on her face was adoring and happy on the surface as her mind was calculating all the ways she could get the upper hand on her mark without raising too many suspicions. She crossed the remaining distance between them and laid her hand against his chest as she continued to look up at him.

“Because I’m definitely ready to party and I think the two of us could have a lot of fun together.”

22:19:43 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac found Will's eyes on her, his gaze hungry yet cool.

"You can knock off that 'sugar, baby' sweet talk," he said in an even tone, closing the door. "You and I both know this is business. How much for an hour of your time?"

"Five hundred," replied Mac, effortlessly slipping from one persona to another in response to her john's statement. The slim corporate official rummaged through the pocket of his coat before coming out with a slim certified credstick which he tossed her way.

"Done. First, make me a drink. Jack and coke. Then get rid of those clothes so I can see what we're working with."

Mac felt the slow burn of anger start somewhere inside her, and she forced an even smile to her face, dipping her head in response to his demands in order to mask the dangerous emotions glittering in her eyes. Crossing the room to the tiny utility table, she popped the top on the can of soda, filling the glass half full before emptying two of the small shot bottles of Jack Daniels. Delivering the glass to Will's hand, she stepped back, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

"Wait," he instructed, swallowing a mouthful of drink. With his other hand, he flipped the trideo on, selecting a music station from the list featuring heavy house beats. Tossing the remote aside, he reclined on the bed.

"Make it a show."

22:26:17 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac bit her tongue hard enough to nearly draw blood to keep herself from lashing out with a few choice words and in the same moment she silently cursed herself for not having something she could have slipped into his drink. A smirk ghosted on her lips for an instant at his choice of music for her expected striptease. She knew she would need more than just an hour with him to complete her task so she could continue to ply him with his choice of drinks and if she was lucky her own drugs of choice.

She tossed the credstick on top of her coat after she made no attempt to hide verifying the balance. In the corner of her vision she started her own countdown, ticking each second off. She closed her eyes for a moment and turned her back to the bed with a slow sway in her hips. She was no stranger to dancing for her clients, or dancing in the various clubs so she chose to lose herself to the music as she complied with Will's request. Mac took her time as she gave him the show he had asked for and removed her clothes, letting them pool at her feet until she stood at foot of the bed, clad in only her tall black heels.

She looked up towards him from beneath the veil of dark hair that fell around her face as her body continued to move with the music, moving herself along the edge of the bed until she danced just out of the reach of his fingertips. She played the game as well as the best of them, the cat and mouse, the push and pull of the power struggle.

"Do you approve of the merchandise?"

22:29:48 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

"Indeed, if the ride is as good as the show, then it's worth the price." Will eyed her up and down, lust readily apparent on his face. He reached out but Mac slid back, her hips still swaying to the beat. His eyes narrow, his lips curving again with that cold, hungry look. Sliding off the bed, he moved to stand in front of her.

"Undress me," he instructs, his voice level.

22:43:19 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac closed the distance between them with a single step and brushed her body against his as he made his request. She bit her lip as she raised her hands to the simple collar of his dress shirt, nimble fingers making quick work of the button just below the collar. Her breath was steady as she stole quick glances up at Will’s face as her fingers worked lower, releasing each button slowly before her fingers glided across his skin, pushing the shirt open wider.

He was like most of the suits who paid her for sex, his needs and wants in the bedroom an extension of his power in the boardroom. Men like him who liked to show their control, make their demands of the girls who came to their rooms. Will was going to make this easy for her, asking her to undress him. Once she came across his keycard, likely in the pocket of the grey slacks he wore, she’d be sure to lift it and set it aside for when either she was left alone as he cleaned up, or she could swipe the card without getting caught. The thought caused a slight smile that pulled at the corners of her lips as she pulled the tails of his shirt from his pants.

She could feel his eyes on her, watching each move she made, anticipating each touch or brush of her fingers with that same expression of need that he had when she danced for him. She sank to her knees before him, fingers deftly unbuckling the strip of soft Italian leather at his waist, pulling it from the loops of his slacks and tossing it onto the bed beside them. She placed her hands at Will’s waist, running them down over his hips and the expensive grey fabric that made up his pockets trying to discern if her bounty was contained in either of them. She brushed her forehead against the muscles of his thigh before she brought her fingers back to the waistband of his pants.

Mac worked painfully slowly, teasing whenever she had the opportunity as she started with the button and moved to the zipper, peeling back the expensive material from his hips and guiding it to the floor. Almost instantly she felt his hands in her hair, pressing down against the top of her head as he stepped carefully out of his clothes. She used the moment of setting his pants aside to palm the contents of his pockets and tucking them out of sight for her to get her hands on later.

She rose up fully on her knees before him, using his hips as leverage as she pushed him back towards the bed until he was seated on the edge. Mac snaked her body up between his legs, her breath hot and moist against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Her hands reached up and pushed his dress shirt off his shoulders, trapping his arms in the sleeves for a moment, letting her bratty streak get a little of the better of her as she showed him he wasn't the only one with control. She let his arms go the moment she saw his eyes darken and a sadistic smile of warning play across his lips.

She finished her task with a little more speed and mild curiosity, her eyes appraising every inch of him as she worked. Once they were both stripped bare, she sat back on her heels at this feet and licked her lips slowly.

"So tell me, what games do you want to play."

22:57:33 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Will tangled his hand in Mac's hair, pulling her up on her knees.

"The kind of games where you use your mouth for something other than talking," he replied, a dark eagerness to his face. He showed no signs of having noticed her slipping his keycard beneath her clutch while taking off his clothes, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief, once more finding herself on familiar territory. Reaching in to the slim black bag, she pulled an unlubricated condom out and unwrapped it. These were the best to use when giving head. Trapping the tip of the condom in her lips, she used her mouth to roll it on, a smooth practiced motion that brought a groan to Will's lips. As with her earlier dance, Mac teased him, drawing out the pleasure. If she had any hope of success, she had to ensure that afterwards he was tired enough to miss her copying his ID and replacing it.

As Will's fingers gripped a fistful of her hair, she thought about Kovacs, about the last time they shared each other's bodies. She remembered his hard grip on her flesh, the calluses of his left hand almost as unyielding as the smooth synthetic of his right. She could see the silent energy in his eyes, and feel the trade between them, how seamlessly he had taken control as she had surrendered it. Her body shivered at the memory, moisture growing between her thighs. Despite his clearly athletic nature and careful fitness regimen, Will was a pale substitute for the lover that waited for her outside.

23:08:01 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Mac squeezed her eyes shut while her mouth continued to work, shutting down that train of thought before it got her in trouble. With each stroke of her mouth she felt her walls going back up, the cold detachment well practiced from five years in countless hotel rooms like this one with men just like Will.

The constant bass track that continued to fill the room was now accented with Will’s increasing sounds of pleasure and enjoyment and an occasional, but hardly authentic one of her own just to keep encouraging him along. She had to give the guy credit on his stamina as she relentlessly brought him to the edge of his release and backing off just enough to get him to tighten his grip in her hair and force her back down until she picked up again.

She was on autopilot now until she could make him come or he decided to change the game. IT freed her to think about the more important things, like just when would be the most opportune time to copy the card or if she thought he would even leave her alone. Formulating a plan in her head to manage either outcome Mac drew her nails down the tops of his thighs, eliciting a welcomed sharp draw of breath that escaped in a hiss from his lips. She had him where she wanted, and she’d just lightly have to push a little further to end their escapade on a high note, at least for him.

In the corner of her vision, the clock continued to countdown second by painfully slow second.

23:16:47 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

Will stepped back and used his grip in Mac's hair to push her face down onto the bed. He was behind her and inside her immediately, his hips slamming into hers with bruising force. She grunted as he pulled back on her hair, using his grip as leverage. She dug her fingers into the bed covers, the armor of her soul disconnecting her from what her body was feeling. She used her body, though, tilting her hips up and squeezing down with her muscles to speed the process. He didn't last long, six or seven minutes at most before she felt him tense, a long guttural groan spilling from his lips as he spent himself inside her.

Mac felt him stagger back a step, and watched from the corner of her eye as he ran a hand through his hair. She let herself relax against the bed, feigning satisfaction. Will ignored her for the most part, taking another swig of the drink she'd mixed for him and rooting through his jacket for a packet of cigarettes. Tapping one out, he lit it with an expensive looking designer lighter before stepping into the bathroom. Mac snaked off the bed quickly, diving for her clutch while keeping watch on the bathroom door. She heard him start to urinate, and used the sound to mask her movements. Retrieving the flat case Drift had given her, she slid Will's ID out from its protective plastic covering and slid it through the strip reader. A pale green LED flickered to life, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Quickly she replaced both the plastic cover and the ID in Will's pants pocket.

23:37:28 Friday, 12 January 2063 - Hotel Paradise, 7120 Richardson Way, Downtown, Seattle

By the time Will stepped back out of the bathroom, Mac was already on her feet, slipping back into her silk top and gathering her things. The look on his face was something akin to surprise to see her still standing there, and that was enough motivation for Mac to grab her coat, her clutch and her cred while making a bee-line for the door. The less time she needed to spend in his presence and the sooner she could get cleaned up, the better.

She didn’t pause as she stepped outside into the chill night air. Never looked back towards the door to room 14. Her heels clicked on the asphalt as she walked quickly towards the opposite end of the parking lot. She heard the locks on the truck disengage as she approached, pulling the door open and climbing up into the passenger seat without so much as a glance in Kovacs direction. She opened her clutch, pawing through the small space to pull out the card copier and offered it over to him while staring out the front windscreen.

Everything in her head was upside down and backwards. She hadn’t felt this way in overfive years, since Wayne had been responsible for turning her out to The Stable’s clientele. Mac delt with the torrent of emotions she was feeling the only way she knew how, by shutting down and shutting out everything around her and right now that included the one person sitting beside her who could without knowing it, make everything “okay” again in her head. But it wasn’t even close to the right time to even ask that of him, to beg him to make her hurt, to feel. Instead she sat stone faced and silent in the front seat of the truck as the pair pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the surface streets.

They were about halfway back to the warehouse when Mac finally spoke, her voice both soft and distant, it sounded foreign even to her own ears.

“I’d like to get cleaned up before we get back. Somewhere I can grab a shower.”

She knew however, no amount of hot water and soap would remove the way she felt at that moment.

00:02:28 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

"Sure," said Kovacs, his voice full of a cool calmness that did little to settle Mac's nerves. The truck changed course, taking an exit off he freeway. She didn't even know where they were in between the hotel and the warehouse, lost in her own thoughts. The ambient road noise insulated her from reality, drawing thick curtains about her. It wasn't until the motion of the truck ceased that she emerged from the dark concave spiral of her mind. Numbly she stepped out of the truck and followed Kovacs to a bank of elevators. They exited on the fourth floor, turning right down the hall. It wasn't until after Kovcas keyed in a code to the door and showed her inside that Mac paused to wonder where they were.

The tall samurai shrugged out of his coat, tossing it on the couch amidst a cloud of dust. "Wait here."

Mac glanced around at the layer of dust on the surface of everything a cleaning bot couldn't reach, the impersonal anonymous decorations, and generic furnishings. The sound of running water reached her ears, and she looked down the hallway to see Kovacs emerge and rummage through a narrow closet before withdrawing a towel and washcloth. She remained still, a numbness gripping her. When he returned, he took her hand and wordlessly led her down the hall.

The bathroom was small, but had a full bath, one that was filled with steaming water. She turned to look at Kovacs, who gave a slight shake of his head. Moving slowly but surely he undressed her, removing her top and her skirt. The raw feelings of vulnerability rushed back in on her, and she began to shiver uncontrollably. Kovacs slipped his arms around her, his hands warm against her skin. Mac took a shaky breath, steading herself. With his help, she stepped into the water, gasping at the heat. Slowly, she sank into the bath, giving herself time to adjust. Hugging her knees to herself, she rested her head on them.

Kneeling next to the tub, Kovacs soaked the washcloth before adding a swirl of body wash. With slow, gentle sweeps he carefully washed Mac's skin.

00:07:47 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

It was the simple act of gentile kindness that broke her. Being used, even being physically hurt she could handle, occasionally enjoyed even. But someone genuinely caring for her with no ulterior motive however was too much. Mac squeezed her eyes shut tightly against the floodgates that threatened to open as Kovacs carefully brushed her hair off her shoulders as the warm water cascaded down her back.

In her head she was screaming, but her voice was just above a whisper in the near silence of the small room.

"Stop, please. I... Can't."

She shook her head against her knees as she felt Kovacs pull his hand away from her back. When she finally lifted her head and managed to look at the street sam, her eyes spoke volumes while her lips never moved.

00:09:28 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs rocked back on his heels as Mac stared at him, his face unreadable. He had never mastered the delicate interplay of relationships. He knew that he frustrated any woman who'd ever made the effort, and although he could be friends as well as friends with benefits, there was never a long term option. It just wasn't in his nature. But for all that there was something about this girl that pulled at him, something irresistible about her broken beauty, her damaged soul an echo to his own. He'd heard silent, bitter laughter in his head as he listed all the cliche things about them. And yet he'd gone back for her, again and again. Broken his rules for her. Equipped her. Started to train her. Consciously or not, he'd begun to arm her with the abilities and gear necessary to survive a life with him.

Reaching out, he closed the human circuit with her again, the synthetic of his right arm cool against her warm skin. He tilted her face up to him, leaning in close until he was breathing into her mouth. He could feel her body alternating between tension and surrender, the conflict raging through her.

"I have washed away all that was before," he whispered, his eyes holding hers, a fierce possession in his gaze. "I have wiped clean everything before this moment. Now you are only for me. Now you belong to me."

00:11:56 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

Despite the heat of the water that surrounded her, it felt nearly ice cold in comparison to the heat that burned through Mac’s body at that very instant. She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity as nineteen years of experience was trying to convince her that this was a bad idea. Even Kovacs himself had told her when they met that there would come a time that she couldn’t trust him, yet she knew that he wasn’t saying these things to toy with her emotions. Somehow this unlikely pair filled in each other's voids, satisfied their needs in ways no other could. Her breathing slowed, her fear causing it to release irregularly, stuttered against his lips.

Mac finally closed her eyes and found herself nodding her acceptance, crossing the line into territory she had never found herself in before. Admitting that her life was no longer just her alone, that with him was where she wanted to be, no matter the cost.

She leaned into him, fusing their mouths together with a hunger she hadn’t felt before. The spark of energy that passed between them threatened to burn through every inch of darkness that consumed her.

00:33:09 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs drew Mac too him, never breaking the kiss. Her hands slid beneath his clothes as she writhed against him, hunger moaning loud in the soft silence of the room. He was abruptly naked, only dimly aware of having shed his clothes at some point, and Mac sat astride his lap, lowering herself onto him with a soft exhalation. Their bodies coiled together, a desperate tenderness suffusing the air. Her eyes, dark and luminous in the half-light, swallowed his gaze, unspoken words hanging in space around them as her hips rocked in time with his. Mac grappled herself to Kovacs, winding her arms about him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. A strange intimacy filled him, a sense of rightness about them, about how their bodies fit together, about how their lives intertwined.

Mac gasped, her body trembling in his grasp as passion overwhelmed her. The feeling stole away his own control, and he crushed her to him as he rode out the wave of pleasure. For long moments neither moved nor spoke, their bodies warm in the coolness of the room, each breathing the energy of the other.

00:39:41 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac was in no hurry to move from Kovacs' embrace, to return to the cold starkness of the warehouse, half convinced everything they just shared would evaporate the moment they stepped outside the walls of the apartment. She finally raised her head from his shoulder long enough to catch the look on his face for an instant before she brushed her lips softly against his with a coy smile.

She forced herself to untangle her arms from around him, knowing that she was only delaying their inevitable return to the rest of the team. Reluctantly she started to get dressed, wishing she had brought a change of clothes instead of having to put back on what she had picked out for Will.

She ran her hands through her hair as she watched Kovacs get dressed himself. She stepped back up in front of him when he was finished, entwining the fingers of her right hand with his left as she looked up at him.

"Thank you for being worth breaking all the rules for."

00:44:29 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 6082 Davidson Blvd Apt 4D, Tacoma, Seattle

Kovacs lifted Mac's hand with his, drawing them closer and rotating it so he could press his lips to the back of it.

"Some things are worth it."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile that encompassed all the troubles that beset them ever since they came into each other's lives. Then, with a last shrug to settle his coat, he led her from the apartment and back into the night. The chill air embraced them, the wind carrying faint flakes of snow that didn't last the trip to the ground. Mac shivered and wrapped Kovacs' arm around her. He made room in his coat for her as they walked, and turned up the heat in the truck as soon as they were settled in the cab. The steady hum of the tires and the drone of the engine pulled Mac's fatigue to the surface, and she found herself almost drifting asleep as they headed back to the warehouse.

01:02:11 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Tristan sat at the network console as they pulled into the warehouse, casually munching his way through a bag of shrimp chips.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he smiled at Kovacs. The tall samurai shook his head, his face devoid of expression. Once again Mac was impressed by how effortless was the silent communication between them. She wanted to stay and talk, to be part of the interplay, to flirt with them both, but her body ached with an emotional exhaustion. She pulled the slim black card reader from her purse and set it next to Tristan before glancing up at Kovacs and tilting her head towards the cots ranked in the back of the warehouse. He nodded.

04:51:46 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

When she got back to the cots, Mac had just enough energy to pull on a pair of leggings under her skirt and that was about it, she didn’t have it in her to change out of the rest of her clothes. She was asleep almost the moment after she pulled her long coat over her as a blanket and curled up the best that she could on the cot.

Sleep came easily but it came fitfully, new ambient noise and lights, subconsciously being aware of others in the building and nearby kept her from reaching the deep sleep her body and mind craved. It didn’t help that she was still trying to process everything that had happened in the hours prior, her mind blazing through the highs and lows and rationalizing just why she had accepted Kovacs’ claim on their relationship, and on her.

Forcing herself to quiet the thoughts in her head, she settled for the short stretches she could manage, tossing and turning in between each cycle until her body refused to cooperate and she realized a few hours was all she was going to manage. Resigning herself to operating on limited sleep, she got up and finished changing out of the clothes from the night before, trading the silk of her shirt for one of well-worn cotton. Cementing the change in her situation, for leaving her past behind, she grabbed the Kydex holster from where it was nestled in her bag and padded out to the network consoles as quietly as her bare feet would allow to see who was on overwatch at this early hour.

05:02:26 Saturday, 13 January 2063 - 1400 Willow Heights Road #4, Tacoma, Seattle

Mac's breath plumed in the chill morning air, the concrete floor of the warehouse icy against her feet. The cold woke her, rubbing away the last of the sleep but leaving the dull ache of fatigue behind. She rubbed her hands together, blowing on them to warm her fingers some. Oddly, though, the network station stood empty, the holodisplays spooling past with overhead views of the interior and exterior of the warehouse. Mac's hand goes to the butt of the pistol nestled against her side, and she scans around suspiciously. The sliding door of the Roadmaster cams open on silent rails, and Drift motions her over.

"Didn't mean to alarm you," he apologizes as she climbs aboard. "I prefer running the network from here."

Mac shrugs, curling into the bench seat adjacent to the rigger's command chair.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asks.