Shadowrun, p.23
Shadowrun, page 23
“Some people are paranoid enough to want dead tree backups,” Felician said.
“I get the feeling he had good reasons to worry.” Borealis picked up the document and began to read it. “Whoopsie. Astrid wasn’t going to inherit a whole bunch of money. Looks like dear ol’ Dad was leaving everything to his housekeeper. And his cats.”
“That’s why she wanted the box,” Felician said. “She was going to hack his will and had to make sure this copy disappeared.”
“Well, either way, looks like his housekeeper’s going to make out like a bandit, and we got our sweet payday.” Velocity patted the stacks of bills. “I say we go drop Miss Moon here in the medical waste disposal unit in the basement, and then let’s get some breakfast.”
Borealis grinned at her. “I like the way you think.”
She grinned back. “Thanks.”
“You want to do this partners thing again sometime?”
“Sure. Sometime. But I think I’ll go to Tahiti for a couple of weeks first. Shake off the rest of the scorch while I work on my tan.”
“Sun, sand, drinks, and great scenery...sounds like some hard suffering,” he joked.
“The hardest.”
“Want some company?”
She paused, then smiled again. “Sure. I think I’d like that.”
Borealis winked at her, then turned away to head downstairs. Velocity pulled the Tarot card out of her vest pocket and gazed at it thoughtfully. The green woman of the Matrix stared back at her in seductive challenge. Velocity wondered again if the three were lovers, or all just aspects of the same woman. Either way, they were united. Maybe, just maybe, a successful union could be far more satisfying than running solo had ever been.
Velocity tucked the card back into place over her heart, and followed Borealis.
KARMA
(KARMA)
DAVID ELLENBERGER
Three days ago, we started down a path that would change everything. My team of hunters were the best. We collected the bounties the megacorps offered for those who threatened the world. We also did our own research to make sure they really were a threat, and not just on some corporate hit list. The shaman checked out, and we decided taking him out was in the best interest of metahumanity. It wasn’t hard to find the toxic dump he was using to summon his horrible mutant spirits. It was a couple days of Scooter using his drones to follow people around the slums, and Runs with Knives walking the streets and blending in. Finally, we had tracked him to a sewage dump on the outside of Chicago.
Spiritwalker’s flint-grey eyes followed the same mana flow I saw. We alerted Scooter, and he launched his flyspy drones to get a picture of the shaman, since we didn’t want to expose ourselves to the toxic dump directly if we could avoid it. As he left, we figured out he was headed back to a rundown apartment complex, but when he ducked through a door before the flyspy could get through, we didn’t know what room. A day later Scooter had flown around the building and finally found him in apartment 5H. Now we just had to verify he was actually the target.
Spiritwalker reentered his body and opened his eyes. “I traced the astral trail from the sewage pit there to the apartment over in the slums. Apartment 5H, just like the recon showed. The spirit on the roof disappeared at dusk just like we expected. We have a half-hour window, and then he’ll probably have a new spirit up there. I think it’s now or wait until sunrise. Who knows what he will do in the night if we wait.”
“Vindicator, how’s the front look?”
“All clear, boss,” he replied over the comm.
I looked around the van. “Okay Scooter, take us to the drop zone. Everyone remember the plan. No civilians, no collateral damage. Just take out the shaman and collect the bounty.”
As we stopped at the drop zone, I looked one last time at the Celtic Cross layout I had dealt. It promised success, but the Karma card at the center had me worried.
We spread out and made our individual paths for the last three blocks to the rendezvous point. One last check to make sure we weren’t missing anything. The takedown had to be flawless. He was too dangerous a foe to make a mistake, or we’d all be going home in body bags.
As we formed up at the rendezvous, my eyes adjusting to the twilight as the setting sun cast a purple hue on the buildings, I checked in with Vindicator. The big troll’s deep baritone voice confirmed the target was still in his flat.
“You sure he hasn’t made you?”
“I’m part of the landscape, in the pack of squatters across the street. It’s all cool, hombre.”
I couldn’t see the big troll ever becoming part of the background. The stench of sewage or something in the dump two blocks over filled the air. I put on my respirator and checked that the others had donned theirs. I switched to astral sight, and didn’t see any spirits. “Okay, we’re still clear. Is he alone up there?”
Vindicator said, “I haven’t seen anyone come or go in the five hours I’ve been here, so I’d say he’s alone.”
“Okay. We’re moving in. Standard takedown. Standard diamond formation on the way in, since we don’t know if he has any other assets in the area. Vindicator, we’ll pick you up on the way in.”
Runs with Knives said, “Not our first rodeo, boss. We’ll take him down just like the others.” He shook his head slightly to emphasize the point, his long black hair swaying with the movement.
“The cards said there would be balance, Karma in the immediate future of the Celtic Cross. I don’t want one of us in a body bag balancing out his death.”
“Boss, you see too much in those cards,” Vindicator said. Streetshade nodded at the troll’s words, raising his Ares Alpha to his shoulder as he took the point of the diamond.
“No one complained when it saved us in the Barrens a couple months ago.”
“Nor did we complain when it sent us on that wild goose chase last month,” Spiritwalker stated.
As we moved out, the chatter stopped and I knew we were ready to go. The shadows grew longer as the buildings blocked out the setting sun. It was the time of the hunter. It was our time.
I took the rear point of the diamond so I could provide magical overwatch. My eyes adjusted to the fading light, but even still, my teammates were little more than dark silhouettes. We hoped it would be even worse for the target, since he was human. The next block was almost total darkness, as not a single streetlight was working.
We turned the corner, seeing flickering reds and oranges outlining three squatters huddled around the burn barrel across the street. Their shadows danced on the target’s building like demons in hell. The smoke burned my eyes and they started to water as Vindicator stepped out of the gloom of the alley. He took up point on the diamond as Spiritwalker handed him his two-handed sword.
Runs with Knives was already at the door. “No lock. Entering the lobby.” He slipped through the doorway. The rest of us waited on the soot- and trash-covered stairs, each scanning the rest of the block, looking for any sign of trouble. “All clear. No civilians,” he said from inside.
“We are a go,” I said, then cast a spell to increase my reflexes. The world slowed down as my awareness sped up. I pushed the spell into the corner of my mind to keep it going and refocused on the door. Following the team into the deserted lobby, my eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lights.
We started up the stairs. On the second floor landing, my heightened senses slowed the devil rat’s movement as it scurried across the floor. Runs with Knives turned at the sound, throwing in one fluid motion. The knife impaled the devil rat right behind the head, pinning it to the floor. With a small chuckle and a shake of his head he retrieved his knife and we continued up the stairs. I could see the tension in Spiritwalker’s stride and felt a ball of unease in the pit of my stomach. Everything had been smooth so far. Almost too smooth. No job ever went as planned.
Black mold was growing on the walls as we continued up. The tendrils of it showing where the failing roof let water in. The mosaic reminded me of ivy crawling up the wall at Wrigley Field.
We made it to the fifth floor landing, and Runs with Knives examined the door leading to the hallway. “Maglock. Decent quality even.”
“Is it a problem?” I asked, because he expected me to, even though I already knew the answer.
“No, thirty seconds tops.”
Spiritwalker caught my eye as he sat down cross-legged on the landing. “Do it while Spiritwalker checks out what’s on the other side.”
The shaman leaned back against the wall and his head lolled forward as he moved onto the astral plane. Time dragged on, and I worried what was taking so long. We were exposed in a kill box here on the landing.
I watched a bead of sweat form on Runs with Knives’ forehead, and then run down the side of his face parallel to the scar that was just beginning to fully heal from a blood shaman’s athame six months ago. “Got it!” he declared. He and Vindicator both turned to me, awaiting my command.
“Mutated dogs. At least two of them. I think they saw me.” Spiritwalker said as he snapped back into his body.
Runs with Knives pushed the door open as I gave the command to sweep and clear. Vindicator stepped through, taking four long strides down the hall to the first dog. It leaped at his face from three meters away. Vindicator calmly swung his sword up as if it was a toy instead of two meters of hardened steel. He caught the dog under its forelegs and cut through to its hunchback. The howl broke the silence and echoed in my head.
Vindicator stepped back and glanced over his shoulder, fear warring with resolve on his face. My stomach knotted, and I thought I was going to retch. Runs with Knives slipped in and to the right, his hands blurring even to my enhanced senses as he unleashed a flurry of knives the moment he cleared Vindicator. Streetshade was next through the door and heading left, trying to get an angle for his Ares Alpha.
The first knife was slightly high, and then the second bounced off its back. The third buried itself in the beast’s shoulder, but didn’t slow it down as it howled again. Vindicator turned, his sword clattering to the ground, and he ran. The Barghest had broken his resolve.
Streetshade flattened himself against the wall, his gun pointed at the ceiling as Vindicator barreled by. Runs with Knives had a knife in each hand, not that they would slow the thing down. Spiritwalker dove at Vindicator when he emerged on the landing. He bounced off the troll and fell between his legs. Vindicator tripped on Spiritwalker and I heard a crack. I hoped Spiritwalker wasn’t hurt too badly as Vindicator crashed to the ground with a thud that shook the landing.
I stepped into the doorway, white lightning dancing between my fingers before snaking out and hitting the Barghest. Stunned, it missed its next stride. I blinked, trying to clear the afterimage of the lightning from my sight as Streetshade unleashed a burst into the Barghest, driving it to the floor. Blood splattered the wall and it started to rise. Runs with Knives threw and caught it in the right eye, snapping its head back. It slumped to the ground, dead. My breath was coming in gasps as the mana afterimage took my breath away.
Without waiting for me, Runs with Knives and Streetshade advanced down the hall to door 5H. With the adept covering him, Streetshade set the breaching charge on the hinges and lock as the rest of us followed.
As we joined them, Vindicator said, “Thanks, but if you ever talk about tackling me to any of my chummers, I’ll take it out of your hide.”
“You tripped, I just caught you,” Spiritwalker said with a chuckle, then winced. I hoped his ribs were only cracked and not broken.
“Not really better,” Vindicator said as he picked up his sword.
The charge blew the door off the hinges. As it fell inward, it started melting. Acid splashed the doorframe with a crackling hiss. Runs with Knives and Streetshade pulled back a step. The warped door clattered to the ground, and Streetshade tossed a flash-bang grenade into the room. A second later it went off in a series of deafening explosions and blinding flashes. Streetshade was first through the door, heading diagonally to the right covering his half of the room with his assault rifle. Vindicator stepped inside next, moving left, sword at the ready. “Watch the acid puddle inside the door,” he said.
The air shimmered, and a dirty grey mist started congealing in the middle of the room. A three-round burst from Streetshade didn’t affect it, thudding harmlessly into the wall. It whirled like a cyclone as it shot across the room and engulfed Streetshade, yanking him off the ground. He spun helplessly and his respirator was torn from his face.
The mist continued changing, becoming a distorted beast with three ropy arms and an elongated human head. Streetshade was encased in its chest, struggling to get out. Vindicator pulled back for a moment, unsure where to swing to get the spirit without hitting Streetshade.
Runs with Knives jumped on the spirit’s back, pulling his long knife. With his left hand he grabbed its slimy, stringy hair and yanked back, then cut across its neck in what would have been a killing slash to a metahuman.
The thing let out a screeching howl that reminded me of a cross between a wounded cat and grizzly bear. Streetshade hit the ground with a thud, but held onto his gun. The spirit became tendrils of smoke and smog. Runs with Knives landed on his feet and rolled away as the spirit howled again. A cloud of thick smog billowed forward on Runs with Knives’ heels.
Spiritwalker threw herbs from his belt pouch at the spirit as he started his incantations in Spanish. I glanced at the door on the far side of the room. Vindicator hacked at the spirit, severing a smoky tendril, only to have two more grow from the wound. Spiritwalker kept chanting, and the spirit suddenly howled and imploded, disappearing.
“So much for not having spirits available this close to dusk,” Streetshade said as he picked up his gun.
“We got into here before we ran into one. I think we have done well,” Spiritwalker said. “There could have been one waiting for us on each landing.”
Streetshade shuddered at the thought. A sound from the bedroom at the end of the hall reminded us all that we were far from done at this point. Without the element of surprise, it was going to come down to a slugfest.
With him in the back bedroom, we had to either all bunch up in the hallway to get to him or not all attack at once. Runs with Knives settled it as he ran down the hallway and burst into the room, with Vindicator just steps behind him.
Purple swirling haze rolled out of the room like it was trying to escape. I glimpsed the shaman, dancing in his circle of power, the haze swirling away from him as he did. In the seconds it took me to process this, the haze grew even thicker.
The shaman thrust an open hand at Vindicator, and a gout of acid streamed forth. I concentrated to protect him from the spell, and the stream lessened as it burst through my shield, but still splashed the troll. Vindicator yelled in pain and swung with all his might. I knew he was close to going berserk at this point.
The toxic shaman moved into sight over Vindicator’s shoulder, and I threw another lightning bolt. The purple haze filling the hallway burned away as the lightning arced through the air. It hit his magic circle and arced around him in a dome, but didn’t reach the shaman.
A pillar of earth sprung from the floor in the middle of the circle, knocking him off his feet and out of the circle. He hit the wall and bounced to the ground. Shaking his head, he raised a hand in a twisting claw. I watched in horror as the spirit of earth mutated into an oozing pile of slime and started toward Vindicator.
Streetshade said, “Time to finish this,” and opened up with a long burst on the shaman. The first few bullets were high as the shaman rolled, but Streetshade pulled his fire onto his target like a marksman. The shaman jerked back as his blood splattered the wall behind him, but didn’t go down.
Vindicator swung at the ooze and cut right through it. The spirit dissolved, but his sword blade melted as he made the backswing. Suddenly he was holding a hilt and two-inch blade. He looked at it in disbelief. Runs with Knives slashed at the shaman as he regained his feet and blood sprayed from the shaman’s left shoulder. Suddenly darkness engulfed the room.
Streetshade said, “It’s magical, none of my vision enhancements are penetrating it!”
I switched to my astral sight and saw the spell swirling in the room. With concentration, I worked to nullify it just as what felt like a knee snapped my head back. Blood and spittle flew from my mouth as if I had just taken a punch from Vindicator. The world started rushing by again, and I realized that the concentration on my spell had been broken also.
I saw the shaman through the tunnel that was my vision and the necklace around his neck glowed as Streetshade fired another burst at him. A black shimmering shield formed around him, and the bullets bounced off. “The necklace is a focus for the spell!” I yelled.
Vindicator rushed him and grabbed him in a bear hug. In a move that reminded me of a snake, the shaman shed his armored coat, sliding free. The troll’s huge right hand flashed out, grabbing the necklace and pulling the shaman off his feet.
As I stumbled to the door, I saw that Runs with Knives was facing off with an oily, smoky cloud and knew it was another spirit. It turned, and a stream of acid slashed across Vindicator’s chest, melting his armored jacket. It splashed along his arm and hit the necklace chain, which snapped.
Streetshade smiled and immediately fired another burst. The bullets ripped through the shaman—and then into Vindicator’s unarmored chest. His smile faded, and Streetshade’s eyes bulged as Vindicator collapsed beside the shaman. At least he was still breathing, unlike the shaman. Blood bubbled on the troll’s lips.
The spirit roared in anger, but didn’t disappear. Spiritwalker and I glanced at each other, unsure of what was going on as the spirit roared again and said, “I am free!”
Evidentially we weren’t out of the woods just yet. Streetshade fired another full automatic burst into the spirit, the bullets flattening harmlessly on it. I stumbled over to Vindicator and checked his pulse. It was weak but steady. Good, I could help with the spirit instead of trying to keep him alive. I looked up to see Runs with Knives had stepped between the spirit and Vindicator. Without looking, he said, “Patch him up. I’ll hold big ugly here off until you are done.”
