Shadowrun, p.8
Shadowrun, page 8
Scan completed, it turned around and skittered off.
I let myself breathe and eased out of the shadows, then stopped. There was a small locker built into the base of the stairs. I tried the latch, and it opened to reveal a stack of fluffy white towels. Score! No more wet footprints! I picked one out, toweled off, and stuffed it back in the locker.
At the top of the stairs, the boat’s back deck opened up into a small dining area. The cabin sported tinted windows and a featureless sliding glass door. It had to be locked. As I considered the upper deck, another drone trundled down the steps and turned toward the door. It stopped there, beeped, and the door slid open. The interior was dimly lit. I was moving before the drone did, wired reflexes singing like a symphony and augmented senses heightened to fever pitch.
I closed in on the door as the drone started forward, and slipped through behind it.
Nobody shot me. My luck was holding.
I crouched behind a chair and listened, but the only sound was my robotic doorman skittering away, oblivious that it had just let me in. When it had gone, I took a more careful look around. Swank décor, plush furnishings, two motion sensors and three camera pods; welcome to the shadowrunner school of interior decorating.
I’d been evading electronic surveillance longer than I’d been picking up cute bartenders—Not now, Tiya!—so it didn’t stretch my skills to pick out a path where my camo would keep me hidden. If I moved slowly, the motion sensors wouldn’t trigger. Unless there was an actual living person watching the video pickups—Not likely, since White Rose worked alone—I should be okay. She had to sleep sometime. I just needed to find out where.
I skulked from cabin to cabin. Most doors weren’t locked; those that were, I bypassed. The place was wired, and I felt a professional pride that I didn’t trip a single alarm. Down one deck, I found the rigger’s nerve center, a couch wired with hookups, displays, and boards from which Rose could control an army of drones. Fortunately, there was nobody plugged in.
Continuing my search, I finally found the master’s cabin—it said so in little brass letters right on the door. I cocked my Thunderbolt and tried the doorknob.
Unlocked…My luck was holding.
I opened the door just enough to slip through, flattened my back to the wall, and eased it closed. The room was dark, but there was a huge bed in the middle with a shape on it.
Time to wake up, Señorita Rosita…
I took one step toward the bed, and the room lit up.
I jumped like a frog on a hotplate, whirling in a three-sixty, Thunderbolt sweeping in an arc, looking for something to shoot. Before I landed, I saw the bed was a ruse, a thick bolster under covers. To the left, a blonde woman reclined on a cushioned settee holding a glass of wine and smiling. I landed in a crouch with the bed between us, my pistol leveled at her forehead.
“Hello, Ice Cream.” White Rose raised her glass to me, her eyes glinting mischief. “You’re a little underdressed, but welcome aboard.” She had a southern drawl, and didn’t seem worried that I had a gun aimed at her.
She wasn’t armed or jacked in, so I stood up. “I like casual attire.”
She laughed and sipped her wine. “Good of you to come. It saved me having to infiltrate your building and disturb your little love nest. A runner with a family?”
So she thought Julianna was my partner. Good. That eliminated the NeoNET connection.
“Who hired you to ice me?” I kept my Thunderbolt trained on her forehead.
“Ice you? Oh, I’m not being paid to kill you, darlin’.” She sipped her wine again. “My contract is to bring you in unharmed, so sit down and enjoy the ride.”
A faint vibration transmitted through the deck as the boat’s engines thrummed to life.
“How about you tell me who hired you and I don’t put a bullet in your brain.”
“Oh, stop!” She laughed and waved a hand lazily. “You’re my guest here. Put the gun down.”
“No. Now if you like your kneecaps, you’ll answer. Who hired you?”
“You can’t hurt me, Ice Cream.” Amusement added a lilt to her drawl that made my teeth ache. “But feel free to try.”
“All right.” I put two rounds in her knees.
The high-def holo-screen crackled and sparked. White Rose laughed as gas started hissing into the room from the baseboards.
I was hosed, but I’d be damned if I’d go down without a fight. I took a deep breath and fired two rounds into the window on the other side of the room, hoping to shatter it. Another flat screen sparked and sizzled. I knew the door wasn’t a screen, so I emptied my pistol into the lock and hinges, dumped the mag and slapped in a fresh one as I dashed for the exit. I pulled the door right off, but a metal security door had closed behind it. There was no latch, and there was no way my pistol could breach it.
I tried another door, closet, and another, a tiny bathroom, neither of which had a window or door out. I was getting tired of holding my breath, and even more tired of listing to Rose’s laughter. Defiance seemed my only alternative. I emptied a mag into the flat screens until they went dark, jacked in my last one and started picking off anything that looked like a security pickup. When the hammer came down on an empty chamber, my head was pounding from holding my breath.
“Fuck you!” Grabbing a chair, I slammed it into the bulkhead beside the door, but all I did was scratch the paneling. I took a breath to shout another curse, but the world went black before it left my lips.
Act 4 // Signed, Sealed, Delivered
I dreamed…movement…water…the raft, dragging myself ashore and realizing that I was in Cuba, free…
I woke to that same motion, but clean, dry, clothed, and not free at all. I lay on a comfortable if unyielding surface, with wide, padded belts securing me so that I couldn’t move my hands and feet. I turned my head to see I was in Dixie Rose’s control center.
White Rose stood before screens displaying video, radar, sonar, GPS charting, and satellite feeds. Three wireless rigger transceiver modules were plugged into her temple. We were at sea, but I couldn’t figure out where she was taking me. Another screen flicked, and I saw myself watching Rose. She noticed it and turned to regard me.
“Good mornin’.”
“Where are you taking me?”
She smiled and strolled over to my couch. “Port au Prince, Haiti. Six hundred sixty-six miles by the rhumb line from Havana, believe it or not. About thirty hours. We’ll be there tomorrow mornin’.”
Haiti… That could only mean bad things for me. “I don’t get it. Why try to kill me in the cemetery, then gas me unconscious here?”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to kill you, darlin’. I just wanted to get your attention.” She leaned down. “You’ve got a rep for taking action, and I thought you’d come after me. I was right.”
“Nice.” I had to admit, she was smart. “Can you tell me who contracted you?”
“Sure, darlin’.” She turned back to her monitors. “The head of the Kofo Voodoo cult, Kie-Rah-Ma-El. You pissed off the wrong people back home, girl.”
“Haiti’s not my home.”
She didn’t answer.
“How much are they paying you?”
She looked over her shoulder at me and cocked one immaculate eyebrow. “More than you can afford, darlin’.”
“Wrong.” I tried to shrug, but couldn’t. “I’ll transfer half a million nuyen to any account you choose just to open the bidding process.”
She gave me her full attention, hands on hips, eyebrows up, lips curved in an inquisitive smile. “I’m not about to release you to let you access a terminal. I’m not stupid.”
“Didn’t think you were. I’ll give you the access codes right now and you do the transfer. I’ve got a lot more, and I’m willing to outbid the Kofo. Believe it. I know what they’re going to do to me.” I’d pissed off the cult when I rescued Hennesy, and Kie-Rah-Ma-El had a fondness for straight razors.
Rose stared at me suspiciously. “All right, darlin’. I’ll bite.” She called up a virtual terminal. “Routing number?”
I rattled off a long sequence from memory. My account screen came up.
She looked at me. “Account access code?”
I told her.
She tapped it in. The balance showed just over half a million nuyen. “Transfer authorization?”
“Alpha-kilo-victor-six-two-six-one-five-four.”
She tapped it in, entered the amount, exactly half a million, and transferred the money to another account. She then checked the funds—they were real—and barked a laugh. “Well, thank you, darlin’!”
“Can we negotiate now?”
“Sure.” She blanked the screen and turned to me. “Here’s my offer: no fraggin’ way. Not only am I being paid very well for this delivery, but I’ve got my reputation to consider, and there ain’t no way in Hell I’m pissin’ off the Kofo.”
“They’ll skin me alive, Rose! I’ll pay whatever you want!”
“Sorry.” She stepped close to the table. “You really are a piece of work, Ice Cream.” Her eyes roved over me. “The perfect amalgam of flesh and tech. I hate to hand you over, but business is business.”
She turned and walked out. I strained against the straps, but I might as well have been encased in concrete.
Chill, ti fi…I told myself.
I’d played my last card, but White Rose hadn’t known how deadly that card was. After my last experience with kidnapping, I’d had some insurance installed. The account and the money were real, but transferring the funds sent an emergency message to Skeeve and activated the GPS tracking system I’d had installed in my head.
With any luck, he was in the Matrix right now, calling in favors.
Act 5 // Payback’s a Bitch
At the Port au Prince docks, Rose off-loaded me into the back of a panel truck beside her white motorcycle. A squad of Kofo goons with AKs manned the truck, and two Thundercloud Morgan ATVs. They didn’t smile a lot.
To my surprise, Rose rode in the back with me, three of her deadly drones buzzing around the back of the vehicle like hornets attending their queen. She wasn’t smiling either, but neither was I, surrounded by an army of dark-voodoo cultists.
“You want to know why they want me?”
Rose looked at me. “Kie-Rah-Ma-El said you took something that belonged to him.”
“They kidnapped a friend of mine, and the corp he worked for wouldn’t pay the ransom. I got him out.”
“Not very smart, darlin’.” She looked away.
“That’s right. You work solo. Trust no one…”
“That’s right. Life’s simpler that way.”
“So’s death, darlin’.”
She flashed me a glare for my mockery, and looked away.
So much for negotiation… I had about three hours to live, unless Kie-Rah-Ma-El got sloppy with his razors. Come on, Skeeve…tick tock…
We bumped along and finally jolted to a stop. The back of the truck opened, and I watched two large steel doors close in a fifty-foot-high wall lined with Kofo goons. Rose wheeled me onto the lift gate and lowered it. My wheels rumbled onto a smooth stone courtyard. I glimpsed the palatial gro kay of Kie-Rah-Ma-El. I’d seen it once before, and the memory made me want to puke. The stone under my wheels had been soaked with the blood of innocents that night.
The Kofo closed in around us, Rose’s three drones buzzing overhead all the while, a deterrent to any stupidity they might consider.
“So long, Ice Cream.” Rose stepped over. “It really is a shame, darlin’.”
“You have no idea.”
She turned toward something I couldn’t see at my angle, but I recognized the voice of Kie-Rah-Ma-El.
“So, you are good as you say, Miss Rose.”
“I am.” Rose nodded respectfully. “I assume you have the other half of my payment.”
“I do.” He stepped into my view, his ancient, rheumy-eyed, and utterly pitiless face stretched into a death’s-head grin. He produced a credstick from the inner pocket of his black jacket and handed it to Rose.
She took it, checked the balance, and nodded. “Our business is concluded, Kie-Rah-Ma-El.” Rose donned her rigger helmet and walked away.
My nemesis turned to me and switched to creole. “Hello, Miss Ice Cream.” Lips like black leather peeled back from crooked, yellow teeth. “It has cost me dearly to find you.” I caught a whiff of something fetid.
I looked into Kie-Rah-Ma-El’s eyes. “You really could use a breath mint.”
His smile devolved into a sneer. “That tongue of yours will get you into trouble. I think I’ll take it first.”
I swallowed and considered spitting in his face—If I made him angry enough, maybe he’d kill me quickly—but then a small red dot flicked across his forehead to center between his white brows.
Thank you, Skeeve…
I grinned up at Death incarnate. “Goodbye, you sick fuck.”
I relished the instant of surprise on his face before the high-powered round blew his brains out.
The instant of stunned silence devolved into chaos as three massive V-TOL aircraft thundered over the wall. I caught a glimpse of one and recognized OC hanging out the window, her scoped assault rifle picking off Kofo soldiers like paper ducks in a shooting gallery.
Bullets zipped past me, felling Kofo bodyguards. Rubber screamed, and Rose’s white bike shot out of the back of the truck. One of her drones fired a missile at the gate, and the heavy steel portal blew open. Another fired at one of the V-TOLs and hit an engine. The aircraft wheeled crazily and crash landed in the courtyard. Shadowrunners piled out of the wrecked aircraft, a huge troll at the fore, wielding a massive Krime assault cannon in one hand, and a manaball in the other.
“T’ing!” I shouted, and I saw him grin, but a missile from another V-TOL hit the house and knocked half the Kofos in the courtyard flat, along with my gurney.
I landed hard and found myself staring into the very dead eyes of Kie-Rah-Ma-El. I would have laughed, but then I remembered…razors…blood…screaming. Okay, you sick fuck, tell me you were going to cut me up personally.
I strained to reach his jacket. In his inside pocket I caught the glint of ivory and steel. Yes! I fumbled the straight razor out of his pocket. Seconds later my wrist was free, then my arm. I slashed and struggled, and finally rolled up and over the dead voodoo high priest.
Two of his bodyguards lay feet away. One clutched a massive IZOM 49 pistol, its grip set with the glossy pad of a smartgun link. My luck was back. I hefted the gun and rifled his jacket for two spare mags.
“Ice Cream!” T’ing dumped an empty mag from his assault cannon and slapped another in place. A massive crocodile spirit, T’ing’s loa, raged at the ruined entrance of the mansion. “You okay?”
“Great, now! Thanks!” I looked around for something to shoot, but T’ing’s runners had done a real job on the Kofo. Then I remembered a half-million nuyen of my money was headed for the harbor. “I need a ride!”
“Can’t help you there.” T’ing fired a round at something and threw a sphere of crackling lightning.
I looked around. The panel truck had taken a hit, but one of the Morgans looked like it might run. “I gotta see a lady about some payback!” I tucked the huge pistol in my waistband and dashed for the ATV. The keys were in it.
Lucky…lucky…
I gunned the Morgan to life and smoked all four tires for the gate, leaving T’ing and his crew to clean up the mess. I had no doubt they would; once T’ing got going, he was hard to stop.
I knew I’d never catch a rigger on a motorcycle, but I did my best, and I knew Port au Prince like the chips in my teeth. I sent cars, bikes, and pedestrians fleeing from my path, but I didn’t care.
I blasted through a chain link fence onto the commercial pier at a hundred KPH, and squalled tires to turn before I plunged into the harbor. Two hundred yards away, a white motorcycle drove up the gangplank onto Dixie Rose’s back deck, two drones hovering overhead.
I gunned the Morgan down the quay.
Rose must have heard my engine. She turned, and both drones raced right at me. I pulled my pistol and watched them come. Dixie Rose’s engines thundered to life. White Rose pulled a shotgun from a locker and fired at the dock lines as the rigger-controlled ship strained to free itself. The wrist-thick lines parted like cannon fire.
At fifty yards, the drones opened up.
I ducked as my windshield disintegrated and jerked the wheel. Something exploded behind me, a missile, their last. I stood on the gas pedal and fired at the drones as they roared past and wheeled after me. I hit one’s rotor and it spun out of control. The other lined up and fire belched from its gun.
And Dixie Rose pulled away from the pier.
“Not this time, darlin’.” I jerked the wheel hard left as bullets raked the passenger side of the Morgan, then pulled it back to the right as I neared the end of the pier. The Morgan left the concrete quay at full speed.
White Rose dove into the main cabin as my ATV arced toward the fantail. I vaulted up to the top of the shattered windshield and leaped an instant before the Morgan smashed into the ship. As metal clashed and buckled in torment, I tucked and rolled onto the aft deck. The furniture didn’t break any of my bones, but bone lacing helped. It hurt, but it didn’t kill me.
I shook the ringing from my ears and sprinted into the cabin after Rose. A swarm of drones met me, but most were just unarmed surveillance types. Cover. Then two Dobermans opened up on me from the forward passage.
My wired reflexes and dermal sheath saved my life, and the IZOM made short work of the two drones. I knew where I would find Rose, and I wasn’t wasting any time. The longer it took me, the more drones she would throw at me.
Three more Dobermans, and I was on my last mag when I kicked in the door to her control center.
Rose reclined on a couch, wires trailing from her temples to the rigger console. I fired three rounds into the console and put the smoking muzzle of my IZOM to her forehead.
