Shadowrun, page 37
He shook his head. “Now I see why you invited me here. This isn’t about helping people or reconnecting with me. This is about using me to help the Israeli government take out all their caliphate enemies at once. All while being able to deny involvement. I should have known. How can you stand to work for them?”
“Ah, the old Aufheben moral superiority. Do you ever get dizzy looking down from your ideological high horse?”
“Don’t dodge the question. You know how corrupt they are. This isn’t you. You used to be so passionate, so alive. You used to take no drek from anyone. I remember a woman who used to pounce on cybered-up thugs who tried to order her around. Now, you just lick government boots like everyone else.”
“The Kidon have done things—I have done things—that we aren’t proud of. But we save lives. Stay focused. We have a chance to do good here.”
“Hmmph.”
“What’s that about?”
“Whatever do you mean, Fräulein?”
“That dismissive noise that crept from your smug mouth just now.”
“Oh. You say you save lives, and that may be true, but which lives? Just Israeli lives? Lives of people like you? What about the Palestinian lives in your backyard? Lives of people in Iran? Iraq? And let’s be honest, if eliminating the leaders of the Caliphate didn’t help your own country’s interests, you wouldn’t be giving me this info. You don’t care about the ordinary people in the Caliphate that suffer under the Caliphs and corps.”
“He says, ignoring the lives of the ordinary people who die in revolutions that only place even more violent men into power.” Her cheeks reddened. “I put those naïve beliefs behind me when I was given a chance to make a real difference.”
“You don’t understand anything about the real world.”
“Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” Damn you! Mara’s eyes said, even if her voice did not.
Aufheben relented. If he got a rise out of her, she wouldn’t let up. Being here, with her, flooded his mind with memories of when it was just them against the world.
“Are you going to act on this?” she asked, “or should I find someone else to help?”
Aufheben’s eyes narrowed. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before answering. “I’m in. Did your intel say why they were having such a high-powered meeting? And in secret, if I read the file correctly. This has no precedent.”
Mara cocked her head sideways, as if listening to something far off. “We should get moving. I have a safer place not too far from here. We can talk on the way.”
Annoyed, Aufheben followed, as he had many times before. He used to argue, but experience had taught him that when she had one of those feelings, it was best to play along.
Mara sighed as she walked and then, pausing, she took a knee on the concrete at Aufheben’s feet. She began rummaging through her duffel bag and removed a slightly curved sword with a hand guard resembling a Rose of Sharon. “At least I brought my street fighting clothes.”
“Why do you say tha—” Aufheben’s reply was cut off by the revving of a Suzuki Mirage motorbike throttling towards them. “Oh. Think they’re after you or me?”
“We’ll ask ’em in a minute.” Aufheben reached for his sidearm as Mara crouched, raising the blade above her and focusing her breath as the rider bore down. The spirit mask of her mentor, Lion, washed over her, giving her the untamed visage of a lioness herself. No matter how often he saw it, it always sent chills down Aufheben’s spine.
The rider’s features were obscured by a helmet, but he saw the glint of an arm-blade from a cybered forearm. The bike skidded against the curb in front of them and spun in a crescent. Aufheben aimed his pistol, but before he could get a clear shot, Mara sprang at their assailant.
Momentum and mechanical speed slammed into magically enhanced strength and skill with an eruption of sparks. The grace with which the rider tracked Mara’s movements and anticipated her strikes impressed Aufheben. Even with Lion bolstering her strength, he sensed this would be a tough fight. Waiting in the background made him feel impatient—or was it something else? Aiming carefully, he fired a single shot from behind Mara and the rider fell, clutching her suddenly fountaining neck.
“I thought we were asking questions?” Mara’s Lion mask faded as she whipped her head back toward Aufheben.
“People try to kill me all the time.” Aufheben lowered his rifle. “It’s all the same.”
“It’s not all the same! Since when did killing people become your first response?” She didn’t wait for an answer. When she pulled the helmet off the rider’s head, the face of a defiant Arabic woman stared back at her. Her gaze didn’t last long, but shifted toward Aufheben as he walked to her side.
He was struck by how much she looked like the mage who had attacked him earlier. The same angry eyes, just before death stole their passion.
So familiar, Aufheben thought. His sister, perhaps? He said nothing of it to Mara. “The world does not always leave time for reflection.” He paused and looked up slightly, as if he had just figured something out, but then snapped back to the present.
“Take your cues from the world now, do you?” With a shake of her head, she stood up. “We’re out of time.” She motioned to the people staring at them from windows and doorways, having been awakened by the commotion. “We need to go.”
“Fine. Lead the way.”
Mara sheathed her sword, slipped it back into her bag, and started running towards the Al Rigga district of Old Dubai.
Upon arrival at the safe house, Mara had been silent. The smell of roasted lamb and tabbouleh wafted in from outside, making Aufheben hungry, but he didn’t want to intrude upon her thoughts to ask about eating. Why did he care about someone’s feelings all of a sudden? He’d spent the last two decades of his life doing what had to be done, pleasantries and feelings be damned! And now, he’s sitting here with an old lover, and didn’t want to, what? Spoil the mood? He was beyond this, he decided.
“Where’s the food in this place?” He purposefully projected an edge in his voice to mask his discomfort.
“Check the cupboards. You’ve never been to a safe house before?”
“Not in Dubai. At least not for a long time,” he said. “Not since ’55.”
“When you…” her voice softened, “Failed to stop the Caliphate from forming?”
“Yeah.” Aufheben was no longer hungry. He took a seat at the table across from her. “There wasn’t much I could have done, looking back on it. I knew the Caliphate was going to be just another consolidation of power. Just another Empire in collusion with the corps and dragons. But youth and anger and charisma were on my side.”
“Now what drives you? Just anger?” Mara asked.
“Funny. But now I want you to tell me what else you have. Knowing all of those motherfraggers are in one place isn’t enough for a revolution. Why are they meeting? And more importantly, what are we going to do about it?”
Mara tapped away on the face of her commlink. “There, I sent you another file.”
Aufheben began reading in his commlink. A file about a Sufi mystic who had a bad dream? He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “What is this, Mara? People have stupid visions all the time. Please tell me you have more than this.”
“Keep reading.”
“Okay. It says that this Net of Marduk could…trap a dragon? I’m still not convinced.”
“Our adept prophets looked into it. They confirmed it with Greece’s oracles. The Net of Marduk is real. It’s far more ancient that the Babylonian myth, of course. I assume you are familiar with some of the other artifacts that have been found recently?”
“A bit. It’s not really my area. But I have colleagues who know about them,” Aufheben replied.
“The fact that no one has said a word about this publicly, in addition to the Caliphate recently taking this mystic into custody, and that my sources tell me that this high-level meeting includes a discussion about the Net, makes me say that it is legitimate.”
“Where did you get this intel?”
“From Jinn,” Mara replied. “He sold it to Mossad a week and a half ago.”
“You believe him? That arschloch’s just a Shiawase shill!”
“So he’s at his best with a specific brand of products.” Her eyes narrowed. “So what? He came to us first. He knew we pay well for that sort of information. And it checked out. So calm down and talk to me.”
“I’m tempted to ignore all of this, and let the Caliph and his buddies try to kill a dragon with this Net. But I think I know where you’re going, and I like it. If we can take out everyone at the meeting and grab the Net while we’re at it, we’d have social change and an anti-dragon artifact to put to good use.”
“Bingo. I love it when we’re on the same page, mensch.” She hadn’t called him that in a very long time—not since he’d left her for Dubai decades ago. It caught her off guard, and apparently did the same for him. Outside, a neon Taco Temple sign flickered, its orange glow washing on and off Mara’s olive skin, nearly hypnotizing him.
“Mara…” Aufheben waited until her eyes met his. “I never meant to hurt you when I left.”
She took a deep breath and released it slowly, then got up and walked to the cot where she had set down her bag. Reaching inside, she pulled out something and came back to set it on the table in front of Aufheben. It was a small amulet, brown and square, with a circular hole right in the center.
“After you left, I was broken and aimless. A lovely and wise woman took me in and helped me find a new path. She gave this to me when she died. Said it was an heirloom, and showed me this…”
She spoke a word in Hebrew, and a circle of light surrounded her, approximately one meter in every direction. “Speak the Name, and it protects the wearer against any physical harm.” She spoke the Name again, and the globe of light dissipated.
“That would certainly come in handy. Does it actually protect you?” Aufheben asked.
“Yes, it’s an anchored enchantment. In fact, it has saved me many times; from bullets, magic, even grenades.” Her face looked tired as she raised her head to look Aufheben in the eyes. “I want you to have it. It meant a lot to me, but I want you to have it now. Keep yourself safe.”
“Mara, I can’t take this. What I did to you—”
“That was over twenty years ago, Aufheben. We were both young and stupid then. I was over that a long time ago. You didn’t owe me anything.” Her expression Aufheben didn’t recognize, as if her eyes and her mouth did not agree.
“Of course I did. I owed you everything. You were the one who got me out of Saeder-Krupp. You were the one who helped me survive in Berlin. You were the one I fell in love with.”
“Love, Aufheben?” Mara stood up. Turning away from him, her hands rose and swung down again. She turned back to face him. “I loved you, too. But I don’t think you know what that word means anymore. You’re different. I’ve read the files on you. I’ve seen what you’ve done. You don’t love anything except violence. You say you are working for the people, but all I’ve seen in your wake is the death of those same people.”
That was enough. Whatever moment they could have had was gone. She was stabbing at open wounds that he was already struggling to bandage. In order to do what needed to be done, he couldn’t afford to get sentimental.
“I’m not going to take this from some nationalistic boot-licker,” he snarled. “I have fought for the people, bled for the people. The same sort of people you bomb and care nothing about! If you want my help to assassinate a bunch of world leaders, fine. But your lecturing stops now. And when this is done, we’re done. Don’t ever contact me again.”
“Fine.” Mara snapped.
“Fine!” Aufheben shot back.
But it was a lie. It was not fine. Even when—perhaps especially when—she let her emotions get the best of her, she captivated him. He took a deep breath, his gaze lingering on her face. Mara looked down and began entering data on her commlink. She raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to see what she was seeing.
“Let’s get working, then,” she said.
He was still for just a half-second, looking at her. Her eyes seemed bigger and warmer in the orange light. He glanced at the amulet lying on the table, and nodded as he reached for it. Putting it around his neck, Aufheben twisted his mind toward making plans for murder once again.
The day of the meeting had arrived.
“Jinn, are you in position?” Aufheben asked on his comm. On Mara’s suggestion and Israeli Intelligence’s nuyen, Aufheben had resigned himself to hiring Jinn for Matrix support. He’d suggested others, but Mara insisted Jinn’s reputation was solid and he deserved the chance.
“Yes, sir, that I am. And if you don’t mind me saying, that suit and tie look really good on you, Mr. Heben. Much better than those tired black fatigues.”
“Every time you speak without need, I am going to dock your pay, idiot.” Of course, Aufheben wasn’t paying Jinn, so it was a hollow threat. And to be honest, Aufheben had to agree that he did look good. The Burj Khalifa was once the tallest building in the world. More than eight hundred meters high, it had become the symbolic heart of Dubai. From afar, the glass and steel gave the appearance of a spiral minaret emerging from its Y-shaped foundation. He couldn’t simply march into this place, where Global Sandstorm had its Dubai offices, looking like the anarchist revolutionary he was.
“Understood, captain.”
“Ugh. Mara, I hate him so much.” Aufheben rolled his eyes. “Are the packages secure?”
“Yes. The Mossad agents embedded at Global Sandstorm planted the components of the bomb on the 153rd floor last week.” she replied. “Remember the plan. Ever since they remodeled the spire of the Burj Khalifa in ’65, the upper floors are reinforced and magically warded. If you don’t place the bomb right where Jinn specified, the spire won’t collapse, and we’ll have wasted our chance.”
“Roger. Jinn, I’m headed in. I expect the surrounding floors to be evacuated without alerting the spire levels. Our target is Global Sandstorm, the Caliph, and the rest of the Caliph’s goons, not brainwashed wageslaves.”
“So little faith, captain. Remember, I have no love for the Caliph, either. Sufism continues to be outlawed by the Arabian Caliphate, despite how much we have grown in influence since the awakening.”
“Jinn—”
“After the failed New Islamic Jihad, the Islamic world is looking for alternatives to our violent history. For what they did to my Aunti and Uncle, I want them dead as much as you.”
“Then shut up! Your reasons are your own—all I care about is killing these oppressors so the people can be free.”
Aufheben headed to the elevator that would take him to the 153rd floor using the forged Global Sandstorm ID Jinn had procured. He found it odd, after a decade of guerilla warfare, to get back to the sort of shadowrunning his colleagues on Jackpoint were used to.
“All right team, going radio silent on my end.”
“Roger,” came from Mara.
“Understood,” Jinn replied.
The doors opened onto the 153rd floor. This is exactly why things need to change, he thought. Everyone here was male and human and, if they were consistent with their backward society’s institutional bigotry, un-Awakened as well. He felt his anger welling at the oppressive regime that kept this nation stuck in the Middle Ages.
Thankfully, the salarymen all ignored him when he came in, so he began wandering around the floor, making visual contact with the air ducts that held the chemicals to mix the bomb. This was one area common to all corporate culture in the Sixth World; everyone was so busy securing their own status they had no time for people they didn’t recognize.
“Jinn, I have eyes on the Caliph’s personal guard making their way to the elevator,” Mara said. “I tried astrally perceiving them, but it looks like the Caliph himself is masked with a spell, so he could be any one of the entourage. Two tribal leaders on the Shura just exited their vehicles as well. Wesley Saade from Jamil Islamyah is in the lobby lighting up the Astral like it’s Chanukkah. That’s our Net of Marduk, I’m sure. Aziz and the others are already upstairs, so these guys should be it.”
Aufheben decided to walk through the floor once last time to maintain visual contact. He kept his peripheral vision on the ducts, but his mind raced back to what Mara had said to him in anger the week before. Almost all of his life had now been spent in dangerous circumstances of one sort or another. Most notably, the last decade he’d spent fighting Aztlán for the city of Bogota. Of course, his team, whether Bright Star, or the Anarchist Black Star before it, was no match for Aztlán in a straight fight, but Aufheben never gave them a straight fight. He’d gathered the disgruntled people of Bogota, and trained them into a fighting force. They’d led a rebellion to fight tyranny.
He had done the same thing, here in Dubai over twenty years ago. He had gathered the oppressed, many of them Sufi like Jinn, and had taken to the streets in a guerilla war to prevent the Caliphate from coalescing. Like those from Black Star who had fought with him in Bogota, almost all of them had died. Yet he had lived. Why him, and not the Arab woman who had died in his arms? Juhaina Awan. She wanted a better life for her children, but never saw it. He could still remember her face—
“Mein Gott…” Aufheben whispered. “It was her face.”
She was their mother. The girl I killed last week. And her brother the day before. Their mother fought with me. They were there when she died in my arms. They blamed me for their mother’s death. But her cousin fought with me in Bogota. He knew I was coming. No! This is not how things should be!
The realization shattered decades of righteous confidence, and Aufheben’s knees nearly gave way. Mein Gott…
“Okay, Jinn, they should have all arrived now,” Mara said. “Do your thing.”
“Sure thing, doll face.” With that, Jinn entered the Global Sandstorm grid. He had neither the time nor inclination for stealth. He knew he was good enough to get his will done with raw power. He slammed lightning bolts and fierce winds at every obstacle, and finally reached the fire control panel.
