Shadowrun, p.31
Shadowrun, page 31
The traffic barriers surrounding the shrine suddenly collapsed just as the Eagle PAC van blew over one, heading straight toward Nakai, its autodrive only swerving to avoid fallen bodies. But birds weren’t recognized by the van’s autodrive, so its windshield was quickly spattered with their bodies. It was a touch macabre when the van’s system recognized the debris on the windshield, and started the wipers in a futile attempt to clear it off.
The phoenix had only half-recovered its flame aura when it struck the van with its back, the flame aura sputtering out again even as it caved in the van’s front, bringing it to a halt, scorching it and shattering its windshield.
Addison saw his chance: the phoenix, while uninjured from the impact, no longer had its flame aura protecting it. He rushed toward the van even as the phoenix flapped frantically, trying to gain altitude. The adept felt himself fall into that relaxed state that allowed him to use all of his abilities to the fullest, absentmindedly slapping away the few remaining birds that tried to stop him.
First a step onto the bumper, then one on the hood, the last one on the roof, then a final surge as he leaped up and twisted his whole body around to roundhouse kick the phoenix.
There was a satisfying, wet snap from one of phoenix’s wings as he connected, then he fell back on the roof hard, dazed, losing sight of the bird and awareness of himself for a moment.
“The rear door!” Nakai yelled as he ran down the length of the van. Addison pulled himself together then somersaulted across the roof, launching himself into the air and landing beside the rear door just as Nakai wrenched it up.
Revealed, still secure in its racks, was their equipment.
“The Squirts?” Addison was already reaching for their standard gear.
Nakai slapped his hands aside. “Oh, frag no!” He reached further back with one hand while fishing in the ammo bin by the hatch with the other.
He emerged with a SPAS-22 automatic shotgun in his hands, sliding in a magazine Addison knew was loaded with buckshot. “Rip, the only way these chicks are getting out of here are roasted.”
“Okay, what the hell was that?”
Less than an hour later, the area looked very different than it had even before the birds had attacked. There were PACs from every police agency in Denver—the situation was far too large for any one to handle—but the security was still Shiawase, while a dozen ambulances had arrived to pick up clients.
At first Nakai tried to pass it off, but eventually he grumbled, “Maybe it came off a little strong, but the only other thing I could think of saying was fricasseed rather than roasted, and it sounded too pretentious in my head.”
“No, I mean, yes, that part was wiz, but what about everything else? Different species of birds swarming together, the targeting of weak spots by the hawks, a phoenix that broke a ward? Have we even found the phoenix yet? I’m pretty sure I broke its wing.”
“No, though there are a couple of patches of scorched earth where it could have self-immolated if it was hurt bad enough. As for what this was, have you ever seen the footage of a piasma wandering the back alleys of Seattle?”
“Sure, that’s a favorite of animal-attack trid shows.”
“That was ten or so years ago, when something similar to this happened in Seattle. Lone Star eventually blamed it all on a toxic shaman who got animals and paranimals to work together and make intelligent attacks.”
“So?”
“Well, despite the Star’s claims, even after that shaman was killed, it’s happened again and often enough that most PAC officers know someone who knows someone who’s survived a Ringmaster attack.”
Pause, then, “Do you think Fujita knew?”
“No, I’m pretty sure he was just thinking he was making a deal to get himself a Ho-o, not that there’d be an additional cost.”
During their talk, they had both moved around groups of crime scene techs, heading toward the sacred tree Kojiro had pointed out to them.
“Hey Kale.” One of the techs held a sealed, empty evidence bag in his hands. “The tag on this says this is one of yours, checked out earlier today.”
“Of course it’s empty. Bag the bag, I’ll explain later.” To Addison, “You never saw what was on the card, did you?” At Addison’s headshake, Nakai sent him an image from his commlink just as they stopped on the far side of the tree.
Addison opened the file and looked at the image on the card: a tree seeping blood, surrounded by birds.
“Look familiar?”
In front of him was the image come to gruesome life, with the birds now dead, and the addition of Fujita’s dead body splayed out at the base of the tree being the source of the blood.
WIND AND WAVES
(The Comet, The Hermit, the Chief Executive)
JEFFrey HALKET
> Entry: 20760326
> Asset: Gomez, Ichiro
> Project Falcon continues as planned. See attached documents for dossier on latest recruitment efforts. Viability of Project Falcon prototype increasing in accordance with Project Itztihotli prototype viability. Suspect a counter-intelligence effort in place. Mole within Project Itztihotli?
> Entry: 20760330
> Asset: Gomez, Ichiro
> Met with supervisor Tanaka today—she is suspicious. Recruited two more shadow assets to assist in extracting a target. Attached files have details on target for extraction. Recommend allowing Renraku to extract their target, as interception would likely compromise my infiltration. Recommend ceasing communication for a while.
> Entry: 20760404
> Asset: Gomez, Ichiro
> All hell breaking loose. Security is on high alert. Tanaka is going to arrest me today. Need extraction immediately. Send Hauser if possible.
With six words, he knew his life was forfeit.
“We need to talk, Mr.…Gomez.”
Naoki Tanaka was your typical Japanese executive: lithe, elegant, strong, and cold as steel. She was responsible for handling all the “talent acquisitions” for Renraku in Seattle. Her office was in the middle of the building, and it was relatively unadorned. She wasn’t one for big displays—when she struck for the jugular, she hit it with no flourish.
Ichiro Gomez had a strong jaw, with a thin beard that accentuated it. His half-Japanese ancestry gave him the almond eyes and somewhat flat nose of his mother, but his half-Aztec side gave him a bit darker skin and the broader shoulders of his father. However, his dwarven genetics gave him a sinewy strength, allowing him to be much stronger than his short stature and relatively wiry limbs seemed to indicate. He fit into his Armanté suit very well.
When she called Ichiro by his real name, he had sent out his final missive, begging for extraction. He knew everything had gone pear-shaped, but he accepted what was to come with grace and dignity. He stood and bowed to Tanaka.
“I hope we meet again, Tanaka-sama. It has been a pleasure to see how you work.”
The pile of recruits that Tanaka and Ichiro had gathered for Project Falcon was substantial. He had no idea what Project Falcon actually did, but he knew the scientists that had been extracted from various companies, he knew where they’d gone, and he knew which teams had done the extracting. Tanaka was thorough and meticulous, and with Ichiro’s assistance they had built a reliable stable of shadow operatives for Renraku.
However, Ichiro didn’t work for Renraku. He worked for Aztechnology, Renraku’s competitor. Aztechnology had been running a rival project campaign for several months, and the two megacorporations had been picking off each other’s employees and assets. The information Ichiro had given to Aztechnology had been vital in ensuring the rival project had continued effectively.
Somehow, Tanaka had discovered his true allegiances, and now that was all going to change.
Tanaka bowed in response to Ichiro, and gestured with one hand. Two Renraku security guards walked into her office and put Ichiro into metal restraints. They took him out of her office, down the hall, and into an elevator.
Ichiro knew he would have only one opportunity to get out of this alive.
“Twenty-seventh floor; destination fourth floor,” chimed the voice of the elevator pleasantly.
Inhaling deeply, he activated the cortical implant connected to his spinal column. When he exhaled, the digital interface with his contacts advised him that new software had been loaded into his Dassault Précis skillwire system.
It was times like these that Ichiro sometimes regretted being born a dwarf. His stature meant that as his left elbow flew out to one side and his right foot flew out to the other, they caught both guards in their respective genital regions. The two men buckled over, and Ichiro jumped. The momentum of the elevator gave him enough vertical thrust to drive his elbow and foot into both guards’ necks.
“Twenty-second floor.”
As both men dropped to the floor, Ichiro grabbed a commlink and hit the button to disable his manacles. The metal clattered harmlessly against one of the guards’ unconscious bodies.
“Eighteenth floor.”
He figured he had maybe five seconds before the elevator reached its destination. Ichiro grabbed one of the stun batons from a guard and looked up at the ceiling. Being a dwarf was really getting annoying. The ceiling felt like it was two meters away, and it might very well have been. He extended the weapon’s ferroplastic alloy shaft and jumped, using it as a lever to push the ceiling access panel aside.
“Fifteenth floor.”
The elevator was starting to slow down. This was bad news; he needed the momentum to get himself out. He dug down deep and pushed up as hard as he could with his legs, hoping the car would be moving fast enough that he could at least grab the ceiling. Luck was with him, as he was able to get his strong fingers around the edge of the access panel.
“Thirteenth floor.”
The upper part of the elevator was cluttered with electrical panels, gadgets, and gizmos. With his combat skillsofts loaded, Ichiro had no idea what these things were or what they did. He put the ceiling panel back in place and waited for the elevator to slow down.
“Fifth floor.”
After a couple seconds, the elevator had almost reached its destination. Grabbing the outer elevator doors for the 5th floor, he used the baton to leverage the doors open. It held them open long enough for him to slip through before the pressure finally snapped the baton in half.
An alarm began sounding throughout the building. He had to get out of there as fast as possible, and knew his face would be on the heads-up display of every guard in Renraku. His only hope was to use speed to his advantage.
Employees began filtering out of their offices and lining up in the hallway. Ichiro recognized the tactic as a means of quickly getting a headcount and also inspiring fear in the wageslaves in case any were tempted to help him escape. He watched in frustration as a pair of guards turned the corner and came down the hallway toward him. Renraku was not known for the genetic diversity of its staff, and generally hired only humans.
One of those humans was Janice, who worked in accounting. Ichiro had gone out with her a couple times, but the chemistry had never quite been right. For one thing, dating a co-worker was not allowed within the same division. For another, he was a dwarf, and Janice would fall off the corporate ladder if the two of them had continued seeing each other.
She spotted him immediately, and waved him off toward a janitorial closet. He ducked into the closet and tried to access his skillsofts again. Unfortunately, Renraku’s spiders were all over the local Matrix, and he abandoned his plan to access his cloud library. He was going to have to get out of here using his wits. Fortunately, the janitorial closet had direct access to an air vent. Finally, it would be useful to be small.
The footsteps of the guards began getting closer. The air vent cover was tightly sealed, and he had no tools to pull the grate off. The metal dug into his fingertips as he gripped it and attempted to pry it off with raw strength alone. The footsteps got louder as the guards approached. Ichiro’s fingers bled from the metal digging into them, but his flesh held out long enough to have the grate pop off with a clink.
Ichiro could hear the guards talking to Janice in the hall, asking if she had seen a dwarf. He hoped that his two dates with her had been sufficient that she wouldn’t reveal his position. Regardless, he squeezed into the narrow air duct, placing his feet and hands on either side to hold himself up. He wouldn’t be able to get the grate back into position to hide his exit strategy, but that was unavoidable at this point.
Gusts of air from the shaft below blew past as he tried to slide in increments down the duct. He thought about just how much technical expertise was necessary to keep a building as tall as this one from being over- or under-pressurized. Computers handled all that, but it was something he’d keep in mind if he ever needed to make another air duct escape in the future—if he even had a future, of course.
As he descended to the basement levels, he breathed a sigh of relief. He exited the air duct into the parking structure, and looked for a way to get out. The guards would still be looking for him several floors above, so this was his window of opportunity.
“Where you going, hot shot?”
Ichiro spun on his heel, the combat skillsoft driving his impulses. He managed to narrowly avoid hitting Janice in the abdomen.
“Janice! Wow…sorry. I’m a little jumpy.”
“What’s going on, Ichi? Security’s crawling all over the building looking for you. They say you attacked Tanaka-sama. Is that true?”
“Of course it’s not true. I did have to hurt my escort, though. Look, I don’t want to see you get in trouble. Please…just pretend you didn’t see me.”
“Ichi, I am going to get in trouble anyway—when they review their security footage, they’ll see that I signaled you to hide in that closet. Let me help you. Get in my car.”
Janice used her commlink to signal her car to pick them up. She popped the trunk, and Ichiro climbed in. He was wagering his life on whether Janice from accounting could convince a security guard to let her exit the building without an inspection. His stomach knotted at the thought, but it was his best way out.
Half an hour later, Ichiro was glad he had accepted Janice’s assistance. She had slipped past the security guard without even a second glance—Ichiro had no idea how she’d pulled it off, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Once they were out of the Renraku compound, Janice had pulled off the road and let him into the passenger seat. That was the first time Ichiro had had a chance to really breathe in what felt like ages.
“I suppose I owe you an explanation of what’s going on, Janice. My real name is Ichiro Gomez. My father was a citizen of Aztechnology. My mother was a Japanese citizen. I am an Aztechnology citizen,” he said with a hint of pride. His voice dropped and became sullen, “I suppose now I’m probably not. I imagine that right now there are spiders scrubbing all traces of me from Aztechnology hosts.”
“So, you’re a corporate spy?” Janice asked with genuine wonder. “I’ve never met a spy before.” She paused, and then her tone grew cold. “I knew you were trouble the moment I met you. Now you’ve got me mixed up in this? You’re a real drek-head, Ichi.” Clearly distraught, she buried her face in her hands.
“I told you to get away from me, and not to help. Look, I know what you’ve put on the line here. And I promise, once I’m back on my feet, I’ll repay the favor. Maybe I can even get you a position within Aztechnology.” Ichiro knew in his heart of hearts that Janice was likely going to be fired by Renraku, and odds were good that a number cruncher wouldn’t be valuable enough to anyone at Aztechnology to warrant extraction. But he had to say the right things, because the truth would destroy her.
Janice was a truly good person. She had never fully bought into the Renraku hype-machine many of the other wage-slaves had put their faith in, and that had earned her a reputation that she wasn’t a good co-worker. So leaving Renraku probably wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to her. Still, he knew how wageslaves thought, and he knew she’d be eager to find that comforting warmth of the corporate presence as soon as possible.
Ichiro took his old commlink and uploaded all of the stolen data he had to an optical disc. Then he threw the comm out the window. He took Janice’s commlink and threw it out as well. And his burner commlink got the same treatment. Renraku had some of the best hackers in the world, and it wouldn’t do either of them any good to get tracked down by making a small mistake. Of course Janice fretted at the idea of having to throw away her favorite MeFeed avatars and such, but such was the price of aiding and abetting a fugitive.
They pulled up to a Stuffer Shack, and Ichiro wandered in, trying to look as much like a casual browsing customer as possible. He grabbed a bag of Azito corn chips from the shelf, and took it to the counter. As the clerk checked him out, Ichiro palmed a pair of prepaid commlinks and shoved them in his pockets. Once back out in Janice’s car, he popped open the packaging and got to work.
First, he subscribed his skillsofts to the commlink’s personal area network, allowing him to access his skillsoft library. He replaced his combat skillsoft package with a technical one, giving him some extra skill with computers. He upgraded the software on the one he was using for his PAN, giving him a little extra security—though burners never had good security under the best of circumstances. The other, he used to contact his handler at Aztechnology, Luis Coyotl.
“Ichiro! Mi niño! How good to hear from you! I thought maybe we’d lost you after you didn’t report in.” Luis had a way about him—he was always charismatic, and treated everyone as his niño or niña. Luis had been Ichiro’s handler for several years, and the two of them had a great working relationship. When Ichiro failed to report in, he knew it would make Luis worried.
“So, I take it you didn’t get my last message about being exposed?” Ichiro already knew the answer, but asked it anyway.
