Shadowrun: Hell on Water, page 23
There is a brief moment where the drive even seems pleasant, where it seems as though they will be able to cross the streets without difficulty and the lights will never tell them they need to stop, and they will make their way to the First Mainland Bridge—the First! The short span, the quick trip to the mainland!—and they will cross it and they will disappear into the mass of humanity where they will not be sought because the effort to find things in the mainland is entirely out of proportion to the returns people are usually able to generate. Though it is widely thought of as one of the most dangerous places in the world, the surviving runners sprint toward the mainland because it will make them safer.
Then there are lights. They flash red and blue, and it is quite a relief to Groovetooth that Lagos is not a GridGuide city, because at this point GridGuide would have totally locked them down, and Groovetooth was paying a great deal of attention to driving and she did not want to take on the additional task of convincing an automated traffic system that she should, in fact, be allowed to proceed. It is not a good thing when a security vehicle has pulled sideways in the street ahead of you to prevent you from proceeding, but it is at least a better thing than having an entire city grid plotting against you.
It is a four-lane street, and it is too wide for a single car to block, but there are other cars who stopped out of instinct as soon as they saw the security vehicle, and they are enough to make the current street impassable, and so Groovetooth makes a very tight turn with a skid that almost sends the rear of her vehicle into the side of another, but does not. Then she is accelerating, moving through the middle of a stopped line of cars, making a left as soon as a left turn is available, and it is a turn that takes her down an alley, and if a security vehicle beats her to the other end of the alley she is in trouble, they are all in trouble, so she flies through it, and there are high curbs in this alley, almost as high as the car windows, leading to a very walled-in feeling and a moment of panic when there is a dumpster ahead of them and though the AROs in front of Groovetooth insist that there is enough room for her to pass she cannot find herself believing it but she also does not have any choice to keep going, and there is a moment where she rushes up toward the green and rusty dumpster and squints and squints and then closes her eyes until she remembers that is a terrible idea so she opens them wide and then she sees that she is through. She takes a quick look at the others, and none of them even seem that worked up about it. She is not certain if that is because of their confidence in her or their general weariness.
She makes a right at the alley because she sees security cars coming from the left, and then the time is completely past for any degree of caution. The vehicle they are riding in, it is a Tata Raj, and it normally would be skidding all over the road at the speed Groovetooth has now obtained, but Akuchi had done his work on this vehicle and while not handling like a dream, it at least was not especially nightmarish, and Groovetooth is generally able to go where she wants and dodge or feint with a light touch on the steering wheel, and she is staying in motion and not yet letting anything stop her.
Halim has two weapons out, a pistol in his hand and a shotgun in his lap. He is on the right side of the car, and Cayman, in the back, is on the left, and his guns are ready, so each side of the car will be protected to a degree, and the two of them wonder if they will be enough, but they forget they are not the only protection the car has.
There is another security car ahead of them, and it does the same thing the other car did, pulling itself sideways to make the start of a roadblock and then letting all of the other cars in traffic finish the job. Again Groovetooth sees that there is no path through, and again she prepares to make a fast turnaround, but this time, before she can start the motion, she is stopped by the voice of Agbele Oku.
“Keep moving straight ahead,” she says. “Full speed.”
Groovetooth does not know that she has developed any sort of trust in Agbele Oku, but it seems she has, because she does not turn, she does not slow down, she only charges ahead. Halim and Cayman are leaning out of the window, firing occasionally, not hoping to accomplish much besides keeping the security grunts from getting off a clean shot at them. They wait to see what Agbele Oku is going to do.
Then they see it. They see it after they feel it, the shake in the air that feels as if the void that surrounds everything has suddenly decided to no longer tolerate petty forces such as gravity and that the meager bit of air that has been permitted to stay around the earth will be broken up and hurled into cold space. But then the shaking stops, as if the void had a second inexplicable change of heart. After the shaking of the air there is movement, and that movement is the front of the security car lurching into the air, the back of it grinding and screeching against the ground, the officers inside dropping their weapons as the car they are in bucked up and back, and the car is nearly vertical when Akuchi’s vehicle passes through the space that had until recently been occupied by the front of the vehicle, then the forces holding the security car let go, and the front of it comes crashing back to the ground with a bone-rattling thump, and neither the vehicle nor the officers inside are in a condition to make any more movement.
Agbele Oku grunted. “If they serious, they should send something besides mundanes to come get me.”
“Patience,” Halim says. “They will.”
They are driving fast now, very fast, and at every intersection the light is red because that is how Lekan’s hackers are programming them, so that unwitting drivers who do not know what is happening pass through and form at least a partial blockade, which makes each intersection a challenge to Groovetooth, but they are challenges she meets with aplomb and, more importantly, with success. The gaps in traffic are all but invisible until Groovetooth’s passage through them proves that they do in fact exist. At each intersection, Halim and Cayman look to the vehicle’s flanks and see security cars racing to intercept them, leaving the mouse little choice but to move forward, which she does.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Halim says. “We are getting farther from the bridge.”
“I don’t have much choice,” Groovetooth says. “They’re not giving me much.”
“Do not wait for them to give you an option,” Halim says. “Just take it.”
Groovetooth nods, a single motion, short and stiff. Then she turns left.
There is a security car just ahead of them, of course there is, because that is what the entire Island is now, it is security cars who are after them. Halim’s arm is out the window, and it makes a throwing motion, and a small, dark object flies out of his hand. By reflex the driver of the security car dodges, a slight bobble to his left, and Groovetooth is there, shooting the car through a barely open gap, while Halim sprays handgun fire on the car they are passing. He hopes that if any occupants of the security car are still living once he has passed them by, they are able to discover that their driver swerved to avoid a wadded-up ball of black tape.
There is another left turn, then they are back on track, headed toward the First Mainland Bridge. There is security ahead, security behind, but they are closer to the First Bridge than they were before. Cayman finds that he wants that bridge like he wants food, water, and sex, it’s an instinct in his gut. He just wants to be there, even though he can’t be sure getting there will help anything.
Then X-Prime says the last words he wants to hear. “Uh-oh.”
Cayman looks at him, then past him, since the boy is pointing at Agbele Oku. She has stiffened in her seat, her eyes have rolled to the back of her head, and she is twitching slightly. He cannot be certain why this has happened to her, but he is fairly certain it is not because she is prone to seizures.
He looks ahead. Someone took their mage out for a reason, and he has a guess about what that reason is.
And then he sees it. A red sedan traveling at a nice, moderate speed up the road stops suddenly, slides slightly sideways, and crumples. It appears to have hit nothing, to be bouncing and sliding off nothing, and to have been wrecked by nothing.
Nothing clearly is a serious problem.
“Turn around!” Cayman says. “Turn around now!”
Groovetooth listens, because she has seen what Cayman has seen, and she does another skidding turn like she has done before, and the practice seems to be doing her good, because each turn is tighter than the last. But the car is still moving toward the nothing as it spins, it is drawing closer to the wrecked red car as it bumps sideways then backwards, then Groovetooth accelerates, hoping the wheels catch and pull them away from nothing, she can feel them gaining traction, she leans forward, as if that will change anything.
There is a bump. The rear of the car has hit nothing. It is a solid bump, but not a crumpling bump. In fact, it is a helpful bump, for it gives them a bit more acceleration in the direction they would like to travel. The wheels were catching hold, and the bump helps then, making Akuchi’s car leap forward. They drive on. Nothing has failed to stop them.
Cayman turns and watches nothing as they drive away from it. It did not stop then, but it redirected them. Again, they are going away from the bridge.
Groovetooth makes another turn, and it seems to get them out of view of the mage who had used his juju on Agbele Oku, for she blinks and starts to look around and wonder what happened and why she has such a bad headache. Then she remembers, and she sits up straighter. They will need her.
That thought proves quite prescient.
When they put up the wall of nothing, they likely hoped that maybe it would be the end of the chase, but prepared for the likelihood that it would not. That preparation means that they placed cars, better armed cars, at places the Raj would be likely to go. That preparation means that there is a significant blockade in front of them now.
“Can you flip them?” Cayman asks immediately. “Like that one?”
Agbele Oku shakes her head wearily. “I couldn’t do enough of them,” she says.
Cayman turns to look at Halim, but the ork is not looking at him. He is leaning out the window, exposed to the bullets the occupants of the stationary cars are firing, and his arm is moving in a long, rapid sweep, and a grenade flies out of his hand, and with the speed of the car combined with the velocity of Halim’s throw it is traveling at well over 80 kph, and maybe the security mages don’t see it coming, or maybe there are not mages in these cars, but they do nothing to stop it, and it flies through and hits the front of one car, which erupts into orange and yellow and smoke, and that explosion carries to the front of another car, and both vehicles are shoved backward by the force of the explosion, and so there is an opening. Agbele Oku puts up as good of a shield as she can muster, and all the occupants of the now bullet-riddled car slump, hoping the thin metal of the car’s doors provide more protection than the even thinner glass of the windows. Bullets fly into the vehicle as they run the gauntlet, there is no way Agbele Oku can hold them all off, and there is one that Cayman sees, it pushes its way through the car’s shell, dragging sparks behind it like a fast and particularly aggressive fairy, and maybe it is his imagination, but he believes he can see the grooves and dents of its battered lead surface as it speeds toward his face, and he jerks his head back, which makes no sense because who can move faster than a bullet? But as he moves back he sees the bullet pass by him, just near his eyes, and it leaves him unscathed, because that bullet had many marks on it, but the one thing it apparently does not have is his name.
He is quite relieved to be alive, but then the boy next to him ruins it by speaking.
“How come we’re not dead yet?” he says.
Cayman sits up in his seat, as the pounding rhythm of bullets on the car has slowed to almost nothing. “I don’t know why you’re alive,” he says, “but I’m alive because I’m fucking fast.”
“No, I mean why haven’t they really stopped us yet? Put up a serious blockade? That, back there, that was like four cars. Anyone out there believe that’s really the best Lekan can do?”
No one has an immediate response. Then Groovetooth spins the car and accelerates to avoid yet another pursuing car, and they all are pushed to the left with the force of the turn.
“You really think we need to talk about that now?” Cayman says.
“Yes I do,” X-Prime says. “I think it’s important because I think I know what’s happening. I think we are being herded.”
“Herded where?” Cayman asks.
The answer to that is provided by Groovetooth. A new ARO appears in all of their visions, except Agbele Oku, who at the moment is burdened with seeing only through her own eyes. She is forced to look at a small display on the front dashboard between Groovetooth and Halim.
What they all see is a map. The car’s nav system has dumped data onto the map in the form of a bright yellow trail showing them where they have just traveled. It is not detailed enough to show the explosions and wrecks they have caused, nor does it show the finer nuances of Groovetooth’s driving—the slips, the swerves, the spins. What it does show is the general direction they have been traveling through the Island, and that direction, while not entirely consistent due to the various digressions and evasions, is unmistakable.
“Son of a bitch,” Cayman says.
“They want us at the bridge,” X-Prime says. For that is where they will end up, undoubtedly—at the south end of the Third Mainland Bridge.
“What the hell?” Cayman says. “Why make us go back there? He could kill us anywhere.”
Halim shrugs. “Who knows?” he asks. “It could seem fitting to him, to bring us back to the crucible we have just passed and finish us there. Perhaps, in his mind, it would take away from us any merit or honor we might have earned from surviving that gauntlet. In the end, in Lekan’s mind, it will be the bridge that will bring us down. I suppose he will see that as apt.”
“What is that, some sort of Yoruba bullshit?” Cayman asks.
“It is Lekan,” Halim says. “It is his own bullshit.”
And as they talk, Groovetooth continues to bob and weave and avoid the security coming at then, and all the while they draw closer to the bridge that none of then has any desire to set foot upon again.
It is actually some small comfort, then, that they are fairly certain that Lekan intends to have them killed at the checkpoint.
Chapter Thirty-One
Olabode Lekan knows that a proper balance sheet includes every relevant credit and debit. It is not enough for him to merely consider how much cost he is incurring by allowing this mad chase through the Island. There are broken cars and damaged buildings, and lost personnel that he will have to replace. If he were the type of man who only looked at those expenses, he might have considered this long chase to be a considerable waste. But there are credits to consider. There is personal satisfaction. After what the runners did to him, they should not be able to feel one iota of personal satisfaction or, heaven forbid, triumph. They could not be allowed to believe they had beaten the bridge, so they would be dragged to the bridge once more, and it would crush them.
That was also useful in the not-minor area of reputation. While it was true that the runners would shortly be dead, and thus not in any condition to be sharing their exploits with anyone, he knew too well that unfortunate information had a way of getting around. If he did not utterly crush them in dramatic, even flamboyant fashion, there might be others in the world who started to develop the belief that it was possible, even admirable, to fuck with Olabode Lekan. And that could not be borne. Stopping that, that was worth whatever price needed to be paid.
Lekan knew where he could get the best vantage point, as these runners would not be the first people he had assigned to meet a grisly fate at this location. He was not foolish enough to be anywhere near the gate, as that would likely be the target of any last-ditch offensive mounted by the runners. He doubted they would do any significant damage to the structure, but there was no point in exposing himself to stray gunfire or some wandering spell. He was, of course, at his office, as one of the perks of having money and resources at your disposal is that there are many ways for you to bring the world to you, rather than you having to go out to it. He knows the cameras that are available, he knows which ones will show him what he wants to see, and he has them loaded up in various AROs floating around him. In the middle is a lovely composite, a trideo image his computers have assembled from the various 2-D cameras, and it shows the broad plaza on the Island side of the gate. Even in the best of times there is not much outbound traffic through this plaza, as those who do business on the Island generally have the means by which they can avoid the Third Mainland Bridge. But since Lekan likes to occasionally feel that he is making a positive contribution to the people of this city, he has ordered the plaza cleared so as to prevent any injuries to bystanders. He does not believe the runners will be careful or precise with their fire when they arrive at the gate, and he has instructed his people to err on the side of thoroughness over precision. Should any bystanders decide to ignore his order to clear the area, they likely will not live long enough to regret their mistake.
One ARO, the one on his right and at the bottom of a column of images, keeps changing. He has instructed the system to lock on the small, white car holding the surviving runners, and so as they leave the range of one security camera and come into the range of another, the screen blinks and shows the next block they are entering. It is hypnotic, for the images are largely the same—the vehicle starts at the bottom of the screen, then moves to the top, then the scene flickers and it is back on the bottom again. Bottom, then top, bottom then top. Plenty of movement without any real indicator of progress.
He is frustrated by some of the detours and indirections they take, but he cannot expect them simply to go into the middle of his web without delay or interference. It is even possible that they have some idea what he is doing and what lies ahead for them, for their overly elaborate destruction of his packages shows that they possess a certain degree of cleverness. It does not matter, though, if they have figured it out or not. They are outmanned, outgunned, out-maged.
