Shadowrun, page 27
Get away now get away NOW! He took out his one good weapon—a smoke grenade he’d lifted off a dead security guard during a run last fall—pulled the pin, and flung it in the sam’s direction. Leaping to his feet with a speed only a man fearing for his life could muster, he ran for the door, taking the opportunity to punch the old man in his ugly face as he went by. A couple more shots rang out, shattering the storefront window, then he heard a satisfying yelp as the samurai slipped on a spilled curio he hadn’t seen through the smoke.
Orkus made it out the door and down the windy street before the owner or the sam could try anything else. He ducked into the first alley he saw, caught his breath for a few seconds, then cast Invisibility on himself before slinking away, cursing his usual luck.
A couple days later Orkus sat in another dingy business establishment. This one was simply named “Bar,” and catered to the sort of clientele who could only afford the cheapest drinks and didn’t want to be bothered while drinking them. Two other people had joined him at his table. One, a clean-shaven elf with ice-colored eyes and hair dyed jet black, had clothes and implants that said “rigger” to anyone who knew what to look for. The other was an ork woman a shade over two meters tall, muscles on muscles, who kept popping her handrazors and looking at her reflection in them. “What the hell’s the holdup?” she asked.
“He’ll be here,” Orkus said. “Just keep tranquil and enjoy the fine atmosphere of the establishment.”
As if on cue, a man walked into the place, looked around, then approached the table. He wore a greasy old overcoat with mystic symbols spray-painted on it, and carried enough bones, feathers, and medicine bags to show one and all he was some sort of shaman.
“Breeder,” the ork woman sneered under her breath as she saw his Native skin and iron-grey hair.
“Hoi, my brother Orkus,” the newcomer said, looking suspiciously at the other two. “I thought this meeting was just you, me, and the spirits.”
“It’s chill, they’re friends. This is Auriga and Liontamer. You guys, this is Two Shadows.” Two Shadows slid into the seat next to him.
“‘A Rigger’?” Liontamer asked the elf. “Couldn’t think of anything better than that?”
“It’s ‘aw-rig-ga,’ drekhead. Read a mythology book sometime, maybe you’ll learn something—assuming you can read.”
Liontamer drew back a huge fist to smash Auriga’s face, but Orkus grabbed her arm and held on for dear life, using all his body weight to stop the punch. “Hold it! Peace! Nobody meant anything. If we’re gonna work together, we’ve gotta get along better than that.”
“Work together?” Auriga asked. “Who said anything about that? I work for myself, maybe one partner at most. You know that.”
“So do I,” Two Shadows said.
“Listen to me, guys!” Orkus said. “You haven’t even heard what I’ve got in mind. I know you’re all lone wolves. I am too, most of the time, but you’ve each worked with me at least a couple times on small runs. You know you can trust me, right?”
No one responded.
“This job can set us all up for good, give us a chance to grab some major street cred. But it needs more than one or two of us. We have to team up. As a team we can do things none of us can do alone.”
“If it’s that good, how come the four of us could take it?” Auriga asked.
“Because the guy who owns the loot won’t guard it well enough.”
“What loot?” Two Shadows said. “What treasure have the Urban Ones revealed to you?”
“It’s a grimoire—an old magic book. A really, really old book. The guy selling it doesn’t know what it’s worth...” Orkus grimaced. “Or he didn’t until two days ago.”
“What happened two days ago?” Liontamer asked, leaning in toward him.
“I, uh...tried to steal it.”
“Fraggin’ great!” she said, loudly enough to draw stares from nearby tables. “So you hosed your own run, and now you want us to cover your ass so you can try again.”
“The owner knows it’s valuable now,” Auriga said. “Already improved his security. He’s probably moved the book.”
“No, he hasn’t!” Orkus said. “I’ve kept an eye on the place, either me or watchers. It’s still there, I swear!”
“But the security, brother Orkus?” Two Shadows asked.
“That’s what I said before. This guy, this old mage who owns Pawnmaturgy, is like us. He doesn’t have a lot of money. He lives day-to-day on what he scrapes up selling stuff at his arcane junk shop. He doesn’t have the nuyen for a Lone Star contract, or anything like that. He added a second samurai to help guard the book, and amped up the mystic security he provides himself, but that’s it.”
“Pass,” Liontamer said, standing up to leave. The other two looked ready to follow her.
“Wait!” Orkus said, grabbing her left arm.
She shrugged off his grip like he was an infant. “Touch me again and you bleed. Got it?”
“Just listen to me! Listen!” he said. “You know what it’s like out there on the streets. If you don’t have cred you’ve got nothing. When was the last time you scored a really good job, ’Tamer?”
“Well—that bodyguard thing I did three or four months ago, I guess.”
“And it barely paid enough to keep you going, didn’t it? That’s your definition of “really good”?” She shrugged.
“You’re samurai, but what’ve you got? The lightest dermal plating, no reaction enhancer, meat eyes, cheap wired reflexes that don’t work some of the time, no muscle replacement.”
“Don’t need any more muscles,” she said, flexing her enormous right biceps slightly.
“But you see my point. Without the chrome, you’re sittin’ at home. You’re never gonna get the best jobs and the street cred that comes with ’em. Wouldn’t you like to have the full package, chrome from head to toe? The best ’flexes, bone lacing, eyes and ears, all the bioware you can cram into that huge body?”
“Yeah,” she said with a dreaming look in her eyes as she sank back into her seat.
“This job will bring in enough nuyen that you can afford all that chrome. Auriga, what about you? You’ve already got the best gear of any of us, but there’s still a lot of room for improvement. How about a Triox RCC, a Class III control rig, a garage full of the best cars, a whole fleet of drones?”
“Keep talking,” Auriga said.
“Look, you and me—we’re a lot alike. When I goblinized, things went to hell quick. My bigot parents kicked me out, and I’ve survived on my own ever since. If I didn’t have a natural talent for magic and a couple lucky breaks that gave me the chance to learn it, I’d’ve ended up dead in a gutter somewhere years ago. You had it a little better because your family sent you to boarding school in the Tir, but they still basically disowned you. Haven’t seem them in years, have you?”
“No,” Auriga said.
“So don’t you think it’s time to stop having to watch your back all the time and find a new family—one of your own choosing that you can trust and rely on? The money’s just a bonus. A big, huge, multimillion nuyen bonus, but not the most important thing.”
“Maybe...” Auriga said.
“There’s nothing I want, brother Orkus,” Two Shadows said. “You cannot persuade me with money.”
“You’re wrong. You do want something, and I know a way nuyen can get it for you.”
“You can see into my heart, brother Orkus? If so, you are a better shaman than I.”
“You want back into your tribe.”
Two Shadows opened his mouth again, but didn’t say anything.
“You don’t remember, but you told me all about it when we got stinkin’ drunk after our run on that Renraku research center. I know they ostracized you because they think your totem is dark and your calling is false.”
“I should never drink tequila,” the old Native said softly. “But what good would this run do me? Nuyen cannot buy honor.”
“Hell yes it can. Lots of people throughout history have bought their way into respectability. Your tribe’s not exactly the biggest or wealthiest around. Don’t you think that if you brought them your share of this run’s take and offered to, I dunno, build a school or something, they’d welcome you back? Maybe not with open arms, but you’d be back, and from there you just have to use your winning personality to make friends.” They all grinned at that, even Two Shadows.
“All right,” the street shaman said after a few moment’s consideration. “Our paths will run together for a time, brother Orkus—and brother Auriga and sister Liontamer?” The other two nodded.
All four of them sat back down; Orkus keyed for another round. “Okay, what’s the plan, then?” Liontamer asked. “Hit the place hard tonight?”
“Yeah,” Orkus said. “He’ll find a buyer soon, if he hasn’t already, so if we don’t get the grimoire fast it won’t be there anymore. Here’s what I’m thinking...”
“I’m freezing my hoop off out here,” Liontamer said. “How much longer we gotta wait?” The commlink she’d borrowed from her friend Monger worked perfectly. Hopefully so would the other gear he’d gotten for them.
“Not long,” Orkus replied into his comm. “Two Shadows, what’ve your watchers got?”
“Those two samurai are inside, and the owner. He has his own watchers on guard, but mine can hide better than anyone’s.” The Rat shaman was no slouch at hiding himself; Orkus had no idea where he was lurking. “They sense something dark in there, though—dark, and old. I can feel it as well, brother Orkus. Is that the book?”
“Could be. But there’s a lot of occult drek in there; who knows what the old man has squirreled away?”
“If it is the book...perhaps we should not sell it, but destroy it.”
“Frag that,” Liontamer said. “I’m here for the nuyen. Play the Star on your own time.”
“As much as it surprises me to say it, I agree with Liontamer,” Auriga said.
“All right, all right, we can talk about it later if we have to,” Orkus said. “Stay tranquil. T minus three minutes. Everyone in position?” A chorus of yeses followed.
“T minus 2.”
“Hold it,” Auriga said. “Car incoming.” He whistled in surprise and admiration. “Mitsubishi Nightsky. Gotta be the buyers for that book.”
“Drek, let’s go now!” Liontamer said.
“No!” Orkus said. “Too risky with unknowns incoming.” Time to think fast. Thoughts in his head spun like the wheels on an old-fashioned slot machine... and suddenly snapped into place. “Auriga, you still got those drones you used on that Aztech run—the little scorpion things?”
“Sure.”
“Once we see which way these guys are gonna go when they leave, deploy them on both sides of the road—hide ’em in bits of trash or something. When they’re away from the shop, blow their tires and we’ll hit the limo.”
“Hang on...” Orkus waited impatiently while the rigger did whatever he was doing. “Good, no run-flats on it—cheap-asses are gonna pay for that. We’re good.”
“Does the Nightsky have a sunroof?”
There was a moment’s silence. “Not always, but this one does. It’s armored glass, but still weaker than the metal.”
“How many aerial combat drones you got?”
“Three.”
“Can you rig one to use the stuff Monger gave us?”
“Sure. Take a couple minutes, though.”
“Do it, then launch all three.”
“Roger that.”
“Two Shadows, can you rustle up a pack for us?”
“I can, brother Orkus.”
“Call up as many of your little buddies as you can and have them ready to go on my command.”
“Ayuh.”
“What about me?” Liontamer asked. “What should I do?”
“Here’s the plan. Once Auriga blows the tires, you and the standard drones shoot out the sunroof. If you hit anyone inside in the process, great, but do not damage the book. Once the roof’s open, the other drone drops the flash-bangs into the limo to disorient whoever’s in there. Then Two Shadows sends in his rats to make the situation even crazier. We pick them off as they leave the vehicle. I run overwatch to deal with any surprises. Everyone got it?” Another chorus of yeses.
Now all they had to do was wait.
A minute later, the Nightsky pulled up: a long, gleaming black assertion of wealth and power warning the residents of this drek-filled part of the ’plex to stay the frag away. It parked at the curb in front of Pawnmaturgy and two men got out: one in an expensive suit with a steel case handcuffed to his wrist; the other wearing armored clothing and an unzipped jacket with a couple of Ares Predator Vs in quick-draw holsters. He walked like a samurai, but didn’t have any obvious ’ware.
“Auriga?”
“Drones moving into position now. Ready in ten seconds.”
“Okay. Two Shadows, what do you see?”
“The man without the briefcase—an adept, and a good one, I think. Also there’s someone in the limo with some power.”
“Agreed. Gotta be a mage in there, probably the guy in charge.”
“Drek,” Liontamer said.
“Auriga, is that thing armed?”
“Hard to tell without running full scans, and that’ll tip them off that I’m here. But my guess is minimal weaponry; they want to focus on armor and speed.”
“Check.”
“Drones in position,” Auriga said.
Orkus looked up from his hiding spot and could faintly see the stealthy, hovering machines.
Two minutes passed. Three. “C’mon...,” Liontamer growled into the comm.
Four minutes. Nearly five, and the two men emerged, more cautious than before. The adept had one pistol drawn and tried to look everywhere while he escorted the man with what Orkus hoped was a now-full case into the car. They got in and slammed the door shut; the Nightsky pulled smoothly away from the curb.
The car approached Orkus’s hiding place. He let out a long breath, prepared to cast a spell.
He didn’t even see the little scorpion drones fire their explosive flechettes. The tiny darts penetrated both front tires and exploded, turning them into useless rubber scraps. The Nightsky wobbled and the rims sparked on the asphalt, but it kept going even as the drones took out the back tires.
“Fire!” Orkus said.
Liontamer’s Crockett EBR boomed from somewhere to his right; the sunroof became a spider’s web of cracks, but held. As Auriga’s two drones unleashed their own hail of bullets and turned the glass to dust, Orkus made himself invisible. He shook off the drain easily; the spell felt strong, giving him a boost of confidence.
“Special loads!”
The door on the side away from Orkus opened and the adept got out, both guns drawn. At the same time the Nightsky began to glow slightly. That mage has protected the vehicle—too little, too late.
The limo’s rigger tried to keep driving, but an armored vehicle on damaged rims wasn’t exactly fast or maneuverable. A machine gun hidden under the Nightsky’s hood popped up and opened fire, blowing one of Auriga’s drones out of the sky.
The adept fired several shots from his Predators at Liontamer; Orkus heard her roar in pain, then a heavy thud. Before the adept could find another target, the flash-bangs from Auriga’s third flying drone landed in and around the car. Miniature suns flared, momentarily filling the street with intense light and sharp shadows; deafening thunderclaps accompanied them. The adept caught less than the full blast and stumbled back a couple of steps.
Orkus ran toward Liontamer. “Unleash the rats of war!” he said, and Two Shadows complied. From out of a nearby alley flowed a grey-black carpet of chittering ’plex rats heading straight for the limo.
The adept, too dazed to keep track of every threat around him, left himself open to a scorpion droid. The explosive flechette hit him in the shoulder, turning it into scraps of bone and gristle. He collapsed, screaming, and the wave of rats flooded over him on their way to the Nightsky. Some stopped to feed. The scorpion fired again; the screaming stopped.
Orkus scrambled up a fire escape ladder to where Liontamer lay, bleeding heavily from two wounds, her rifle on the grating beside her. He glanced down and saw the mage—frag, he’s wearing flare comp glasses!—stagger from the limo, covered with hungry rats. With a shout of anger he cast a spell. Waves of fire washed over and around him, turning all the rats to charcoal. Holy drek, never seen that before! Someone still in the car shouted in pain and fear.
As Orkus bent over ’Tamer and cast the most powerful healing spell he could manage, Two Shadows finally revealed himself, stepping from his hiding place to cast a Manabolt at the mage. The calm anger on his face would have terrified most enemies, but not this one. The mage countered Two Shadows’s spell with little trouble and responded with a spell that began leaching the life out of the old Native. Two Shadows fell back against a wall, looking older and older with each passing second. The mage almost seemed to gain vitality in return, his body glowing, his expression exultant.
The healing spell took effect. Liontamer’s bleeding stopped, and her wounds, although still there, didn’t look nearly as bad now. This time Orkus couldn’t hold back the drain; fatigue washed over him and he sat down heavily, his Invisibility fading. He could only watch as the mage continued killing his friend, simultaneously horrified by the man’s actions and fascinated by his level of power and control.
Liontamer struggled to her feet, feeling with one hand for her Crockett. She didn’t even have the chance to raise it to her shoulder before Auriga’s van came roaring up the street. The mage, distracted by his lust for blood and deafened by the flash-bangs, looked up just in time to realize what was happening. Auriga hit him full speed and kept going. He plowed into the side of a building, leaving the mage little more than a bloody smear on the bricks.
