Chapter 13
To Be Outmatched
Abandoned Factory
Redmond, Seattle
April 4, 2059
9:43 pm
Smiley hit the ground hard. Much harder than he liked. The fancy storm troopers he was facing off against brought a spell slinger with them. That slinger pulped the catwalk that Smiley was standing on. The spell sent him and a section of the catwalk crashing down. Smiley would have broken something if it was not for his laced bones. As soon as the samurai struck the ground he had to get out of the way to avoid being buried under metal and steel.
"What is this?" Smiley lodged himself against an inner wall. His right hand shoved new shells into his shotgun. "Shoot the Smiley day?"
"There!" Someone said.
"Two by two counter offensive." The orders came in a quick bark.
A burst from an assault rifle ate its way up the wall. One bullet hit Smiley's arm, but flattened out against the armor. The layers of armor Smiley wore might have restricted his movements, but the added protection was worth the price.
Two men came barreling towards Smiley. These men wore heavy armor and helmets that far outclassed the shadowrunner's gear. They sported assault rifles on top of it all. Smiley did not remember any of the others having helmets on. These men must be backup. Someone had called them in from where ever their support vehicles were parked. The vehicles were close since these new hitters arrived almost instantly..
Smiley brought the Franchi to bear. "Go fuck yourself!" He screamed as the shotgun went wild.
The force of the blast threw the man up against the wall. The slug went through the security armor, shattering the clavicle bone. The assault rifle hit the ground.
The second man held his rifle in line with his eye. Bullets stamped their way across Smiley's chest. Some of the burst missed all together. Half of them were caught by his long coat. Another half punched through the long coat, but were stopped by body armor. One managed to avoid his armor altogether. It slammed against Smiley's flesh, digging a nice little crater before bouncing off Smiley's laced sternum.
"YAAAA!" Smiley screamed viciously as he broke into an all out. He triggered his shotgun at one with the injured shoulder. The man's gut splattered against the ground. A red mist erupted from the wound. "Your going to be a stain!" Smiley caught the dead man before he hit the ground, his wires working into overtime as it pushed to drive his body beyond its natural limits.
Smiley used the dead man as a shield. The other trooper was firing all the way during Smiley's charge. Bullets pinged off the Smiley's armor and the ground around him. When he pulled the dead man in front of him, it immediately shuddered under no less than half a dozen rounds.
Smiley pushed the dead man into his partner whom tried to shove the body aside and get his sights back on Smiley. Smiley was already in motion. A hefty kick put a dent in the helmet. The man skittered to the ground with his senses swimming in a flood of pain. Smiley did not hesitate in putting the barrel of his shotgun right in front of the man's face. A gooey mess exploded out the edges of the helmet after he pulled the trigger.
"And that's for making me fall." Smiley cursed as he pulled out new shells from his belt and thumbed them into the shotgun.
A sharp impact hit the side of Smiley's head.
"Frag!" Smiley screamed as he dropped to the ground. Blood poured from the gouge the bullet had made. Once again Smiley's bone lacing had narrowly saved his life. Either that or a lack of brains kept the wound from being fatal.
The gunfire came from where the shock troops had scattered at the basement entrance. They were hiding in the surrounding debris. The crossfire keeping those troops down had been broken when Smiley's perch came crashing down. Lenny had also been forced to abandon position when he received concentrated fire from all the assault rifles below. He had already expended all of his mini-grenades, so he had no explosives left to throw at them. Somewhere in the middle of it a fireball had exploded near Gideon's position.
"Smiley?" Lenny's voice came over the micro-transceiver.
"Yes, fearless leader?"
"It's hit and run." Lenny said. "Gideon's pulling back into what's left of the factory. That part that's still under a roof. Circle around and we'll catch them again."
"What's the fucking deal with the roof thing?"
"Riggs said that they got drones up. He's doing what he can, but it don't look good."
"Least the halfer's doing something other than bitching about it."
"We'll pull up behind Gideon and cut down his competition in a sandwich." Lenny explained. "Then we can make it out on the street for our get away."
"Sound like fun, fearless leader." Smiley started crawling back. "See you on the other side."
9:45 pm
Let's see what you got?
Without a doubt those are the stupidest words that he ever spoke. That is what Nightsky had come to think. The next time he decided to get involved in "Honorable Combat" he planned to shoot himself first. This sick fragger, the oriental named Jagger, was good. Better than he was.
Metal clashed against metal. Ancient folded steel of the Katana hitting against the molecular edge of mass produced monosword. Both of the combatants were engulfed in a flurry of maneuvers. To bystanders the movements blended together in a fierce melee of swinging metal. Neither combatant looked to be giving an inch. They seemed evenly matched in one form or another. Both adepts were equally fast, possessing reflexes that were a gift of magic and honed in countless engagements like this one. Jagger had a slight edge with his skill. He was more formally educated in the art of swordplay. Each time that their swords met, Nightsky felt the force behind Jagger's blow. Each blow was so strong that he nearly lost his grip on the sword. There was no doubt in Nightsky's mind that he would lose in a straight up fight with this man. Nightsky was able to balance this edge with his agility. He was capable of deploying more athletic maneuvers to gain a better position over his foe. Sadly, that's where his advantage ended. Nightsky found it difficult to counter all of Jagger's moves. He had already let a few small cuts appear on his coat, but they were not deep enough to reach skin.
"I find it humorous that a street vermin like you would submit to such honorable challenges." Jagger was taunting. He knew that he had the upper hand. His mind swelled with the pride in demonstrating his superior skill before dispatching this pathetic excuse for a swordsman. "Submitting to me would be more brave rather than allow the insult of killing you in a fight you cannot hope to win."
Jagger was trying to rattle him. Nightsky knew it. What's more, he knew it was working. Nightsky was not one for talking when he got down to doing what he did. Jagger was so confident that his own words strengthened his will. It was true that Nightsky's chances of winning were slim, but giving up on Jagger's say so was stupid.
Nightsky darted out of the way as the tip of Jagger's Katana took a chunk from the tail of his long coat. Nightsky pressed himself up against the wall as Jagger swung his blade for the kill. At the last moment the shadowrunner managed to roll underneath the blade. He reached out for the safety rail on the catwalk and slide himself underneath it, dropping hastily to the ground floor. Jagger followed, but with some hesitation. The swift maneuver had caught him by surprise.
Jagger vaulted off the safety rail and came down swinging amidst the remains of construction equipment. Most of the machinery was gutted, but their metal hulls remained intact. Nightsky moved quickly through the dizzying remains. Jagger had to pick his way through while making calculated lunges and strikes. Katana and monosword touched together with blinding speed, though it was not as fierce as before.
Without realizing it Nightsky had backed himself into a corner. His retreat was blocked by a wall and an ancient hydraulic press that was probably used to flatten out steel plates. The press was open a few inches.
Jagger charged forth with harmful intent. Nightsky barely had enough time to twist his body out of the way before the Katana tore at him. The tip of the blade missed Nightsky's ribs. Instead the sword buried itself in his coat. It brought a sharp reply as the monosword clipped Jagger's shoulder. Jagger cursed and planted his heel into Nightsky's chest, knocking him into the press. Jagger went for the adept's neck, aiming on decapitating him. Nightsky rolled out of the way, moving his blade along Jagger's thigh in the process. The shadowrunner spun, making a direct stab at where he thought Jagger's spinal cord would be. Instead he slide his monosword into the gap of the press. Jagger had dodged to the side and launched his foot up at the monosword while it was trapped in the press. The force of the kick and the position of the blade in the press caused the sword to snap neatly into.
"Oh, shit!" Nightsky said to himself as he held the broken sword in his hands.
"I warned you that it was futile to stand against me." Jagger said coldly. "Now it has come to an end."
In such a situation, Nightsky could think of only one thing to do. Run!
Well, maybe two things.
Nightsky pulled a slender throwing knife from his glove just as Jagger's Katana cut through the armor on his shoulder. Nightsky tried to ignore the fine pain and the blood that Jagger had drawn. Instead he forced his body into a flip that put him on top of the old press. Then a back flip as Jagger came at him. At the same time, in mid flight, Nightsky hurled the small knife into the tip of Jagger's shoulder blade.
Nightsky hit the ground hard while Jagger grunted at the knife stuck into his armor. Nightsky broke out into a run as the crazed madman yanked the little knife from his armored hide and tossed it hatefully to the ground.
"Disrespectful ingrate!" Jagger cursed as another throwing knife missed him completely and pinged off the press. "I have pulled your teeth and now all you have are spines?"
"I've got more than that if you'll just give me a second." Nightsky spoke low enough just to be heard by himself as he pulled another knife and let it fly. This time the knife hit its target, but was stopped by Jagger's armor. "Just let me think of something to even the field."
The problem was that he did not have that much left. Only three throwing knives remained. If he could get to the top of the catwalk and get his gun there might be a chance. Yet Nightsky seriously doubted his chances of getting back up there. At the same time he was distracted by the burning sensation where he had been cut.
"Running only prolongs your end!" Jagger goaded as he burst through a set of old pipes to Nightsky's left. Jagger was able to get a few slashes off before the pipes tangled around his feet.
Nightsky managed to scamper away the madman kicked the pipes aside. He was back where he started, just below the catwalk that he had been forced to abandon before. Both of his guns were laying up on the catwalk. The sub-machine gun was empty, but the Manhunter that he had dropped in the light of "Honorable Combat" had a full clip. If he could get to it before Jagger overran him he might have a chance.
Nightsky vaulted off an old table and grabbed the edge of the catwalk. He lifted his legs to swing himself up, but let go of his grip as a Katana came down towards his head. Nightsky hit the table that he had jumped off hard. It knocked the wind out of his lungs and sent flares into his vision. The Katana struck the metal catwalk and gave birth to a handful of. Nightsky grabbed the edge of the table and pulled himself between Jagger's legs and onto the floor. An instant later the Katana buried itself where Nightsky had been laying.
"Cursed trash." Jagger mouthed before Nightsky spun around and kicked the leg out from the table. The ancient polymer the table gave away without much protest. The table collapsed, but Jagger slid off with ease.
Nightsky darted away from Jagger. His eyes looked around frantically for him to get on top of the catwalk. He spotted an old, rusted ladder a few meters away. It was his best chance to get his pistol and put an end to this. He ran for the ladder and was about to climb up it when Jagger stabbed his Katana through the rungs. Nightsky hopped off just as the blade reached out towards his torso. The tip of the Katana caught the leading each of Nightsky's coat before Jagger's shoulder hit the ladder. He could not reach any further.
Instead of running for his life, Nightsky remember something that Gideon had told him. Without hesitating, he grabbed Jagger's wrist and yanked his arm sideways. He locked the arm in place, holding the elbow braced against the ladder. The angle that Nightsky held the arm insured that Jagger could only move his smallest muscle groups in the arm to free himself.
Jagger grabbed Nightsky's collar with his free hand and pulled his head against the steel rungs. The impact dazed Nightsky, but he quickly shook off the pain. He pulled one of his last throwing knives and stabbed it into Jagger's exposed wrist. The knife didn't have to go through any armor. The slender little blade buried itself between the tiny bones. Nightsky twisted the blade, forcing Jagger to drop the sword. Nightsky immediately kicked it out of the way. The ancient Katana skittered underneath a pile of crates.
Before there was a chance to celebrate, Jagger put his foot through the rungs of the ladder and planted a powerful kick to Nightsky's gut. Nightsky faltered and fell. Jagger was able to get his arm out of the lock that Nightsky had put it in.
"That is enough, vermin." Jagger ripped the little knife out of his hand and tossed it to the ground. "You have no sense of honor. The fact that you use these little knives it a grievous insult to my own ability. Now you have dishonored my family's sacramental pride by throwing the Katana away like it was yesterday's trash."
Nightsky huddled to his feet. He watched Jagger with tensed muscles, ready to move the second he tried something. At the same time he was looking around for a weapon. Any kind of weapon that he could use against this madman who was about to kill him.
"No more games. You are not worthy of honorable combat with me. Despite your glowing gift in talent, you are no gem. You power does not have a flicker against my own." Jagger pulled a small, sliver cylinder from the cuff on his coat. He flipped the cap off gingerly. Nightsky did not recognize what it was at first. "You are nothing, but a test to my ability. A small obstacle that I shall bury beneath my heel." Jagger gave a flick with his hand. A long, red strand flowed out of the cylinder. Again Nightsky did not know what it was. However, once Jagger made a few movements with it, he realized what he was dealing with. A monowhip. One that had been specially coated with a red filament to give it the color, but a monowhip nonetheless. "Now it comes to an end!" Jagger yelled as moved the whip into action.
Nightsky anticipated the movements, but it was much harder following the molecule-thin whip than the thicker blade of a Katana. He leapt to the floor of the catwalk and grabbed hold of a small, steel beam. It was no more than an inch or so in diameter. With leverage of the beam, he lanced out with both feet and clipped Jagger's head. The blow was enough to spin Jagger around, but it didn't stop him. He arced the whip up. Nightsky thought he was about to be cut into when the steel beam that he was holding onto gave under his weight. He started to fall, but controlled himself enough to land on his feet. He held the broken piece of metal in his hands. It was about a meter and a half long. Nightsky gave it a thought, then glanced at Jagger with a smile.
When Jagger swiped with the whip, Nightsky side stepped it and used the support rod as a staff. He swept the legs out from underneath Jagger and sent him crashing to the ground. He vaulted over the prone body by placing the tip of the staff against Jagger's sternum. The jagged end was forced into the skin by Nightsky's weight.
Jagger grunted, but got back to his feet with a vengeance.
The monowhip snapped beside Nightsky's face. He moved away, but just barely. A thin stream of blood formed on the skin of his cheek bone. The whip connected with Nightsky's arm. He felt it cut through the forearm guard like it was paper and slice into his flesh.
Nightsky switched tactics. He attempted to deflect the whip with the long reach of the staff. Then use his hands and feet to do the damage. It worked for a few moves, but Jagger got more aggressive with his monowhip. Nightsky's coat took more clips and cuts, many of them going beyond the armor to the skin beneath.
Suddenly, by some strange happening, the whip had become wrapped around the end of the staff. Jagger was about to loosen his grip to free the weapon, but Nightsky yanked it. The whip tightened around the staff so tightly that it looked like a thin red fishing line. Nightsky could feel the whip bitting into the steel of the staff. He did not know if it was capable of cutting through, but it was definitely doing damage. Jagger reached out with his free hand, but Nightsky stepped out of his reach and placed the staff, with the whip still attached, straight out. He held it there for a moment before turning the tip of the staff in a small circle. This caused a loop to form in the whip. Before the loop could die down he made a straight lunge with the staff that put the open loop around the base of Jagger's hand. Jagger was about to put a snap kick into Nightsky's knee when Nightsky jerked the staff high. The jerk caused the loop to close around Jagger's hand. Nightsky made a quick spin to gain a large amount of torque on the whip. With that, Jagger's hand snapped off at the wrist. Jagger let out a horrible scream as the cylinder the monowhip was housed in flew out of his dead hand. The whip was open for the briefest of seconds until it re-rolled itself and fell off the end of the staff.
Jagger collapsed, holding the bloody stump where his hand had been.
Nightsky slammed the staff into the back of Jagger's neck. Jagger's face hit the ground with enough force to wake the dead.
"Now who's in trouble, fragger?" Nightsky smiled hatefully, raising the staff again.
9:55 pm
The mind is a clever thing. It has an eye unlike the ones on the face. The mind's eye is capable of seeing different perceptions at the same time. A truly unique ability considering how difficult it is for two eyes to focus on separate things. The eyes are linked, sharing a common bond between them. Where one eye goes the other is sure to follow. It is not the same with the mind's eye. The mind's eye far exceeds the potential of the eyes of pair.
Part of the potential can be accessed in one particular way. Through the use of a Vehicle Control Rig implanted into the brain. It allows a simple mind to control a dozen separate entities. The mind's eye sees all these entities at the same time.
That's how the young woman nicknamed Tarkie did it. With the datacord running into her head and the eye of her mind focused on the half dozen separate drones she was running. Her meat body was locked up inside the back of a Citymaster while her mind danced the electronic currents.
She ran a mix of drones. Some were overhead spotters with enhanced sensors. There were two of these. Others were small, heavily armed combat drones. They were small so that she would be able to pilot them into the factory. However, she had lost one of the drones by following a running into a building. Tarkie was going to make sure that did not happen again. She pulled her two remaining combat drones into a high orbit above the factory. She would dispatch those when the spotters picked up someone trying to flee the factory.
Currently her spotters were tasked with searching out the shadowrunner's primary transport. She did not have much success at this. The runners had probably parked their vehicle inside one of the nearby buildings. She had been scanning for heat signitures, but they had not revealed anything.
Tarkie was about to send the spotters one another sweep when she caught a glimpse of something. It was a vid-link from the spotter closest to the Citymaster. She brought up the drone in her captain's chair and enhanced the image. It was a little fuzzy, but she was able to make out the scampering form of eight legs and a fat little body. She smirked, recognizing the form as a spider. A big one at that.
Her father had teached Zoology at the University for many years. Tarkie was sure that he would be fascinated to find such a large spider wondering around the barrens of Redmond. The fat little thing was heading for her Citymaster.
Tarkie shrugged to herself. Her father would probably like to have a good picture. She magnified the picture a few times in hopes of getting a good snap to email to her dad. It was then that she noticed something. The "spider" gave off a glint of light when she viewed it from a certain angle. Intrigued, she moved in closer, bringing the spotter off its patrol sweep. She noticed that the critter had a boxy thing on its body.
Tarkie snapped a picture just as the spider disappeared underneath the citymaster. She brought the picture up on the vid of her remote deck. She cleaned the image up by passing it through a series of filters. She noticed little letters on the box on the spider's back.
"What was that?" She said to herself, trying to focus her mind's eye to make out the letters. "..........C?..........C-4?"
Tarkie's meat eyes snapped open. "C-4!"
10:00 pm
Riggs cut out the feed from the RARC-636c Renraku Arachnoid mini-drone just before his finger pressed down on the remote detonator. The placement of the drone and the C-4 charge was enough to blow the Citymaster to pieces. Riggs had fitted the drone with all the C-4 it could carry without breaking the little drone's servos. Which, needless to say, wasn't much to begin with. That's why he made sure the drone was placed as close to the fuel tank as possible. The whole plan would not have been possible if he had not messed with the drones parameters before hand.
"Wahoo!" Riggs screamed with glee as half a dozen drones dropped out of the sky at once. "Now we're cooking!" He switched to external speakers. Tart was standing by a heavy door that concealed the Bison within the loading dock. "Open the door, Tart, it's time to be the calvary!"
Tart nodded and grabbed a hold of the chain and pulled at it with all of her might. Unfortunately the door did not budge. Tart tried again, straining herself against the rusted metal.
"What's the problem out there?" Riggs demanded over the speaker. Behind him Michelle was handcuffed to a seat, ensuring that she would not be getting any ideas. The last thing they needed was her making a run for it.
"I can't get it to move!" Tart screamed as she practically picked herself off the ground to make the door open.
"Come on, Tart, now's no time to be a slacker!" Riggs babbled. "Lenny and the others are in serious trouble and we need to back them up like right now!"
"I'm trying!"
"Try harder already! We're sitting ducks in here."
"It won't move!" Tart struggled frantically with the chain, but it was rusted together.
"Frag it, nothing ever works the right way. It's some kind of conspiracy against me." Riggs said to himself as he sunk back into the vehicle he controlled through his headware. He gave the command to pop the minigun out of its turret.
"I can't get it to open!" Tart screamed.
The minigun came online and its barrels started to hum as they heated up. "If you can't open that door, then I'm going to have to make a door the hard way!" Riggs was ready to open fire, though he had his doubts. At the most he would probably put a lot of holes in the door, but not blow it up. He could not risk any explosives because of the close range. The proximity would probably destroy the Bison
"I can't move it!" Tart screamed again, almost fanatic in her efforts. "Please move!" She cursed at the door.
And it did. The chain moved and door started to come up.
"Need a hand?" A voice came from over her shoulder.
Tart spun around to see Nightsky standing behind her. There was blood coming from a cut on his high on his cheek. His coat bore dozens of scars and he had dropped his HK227 next to him. His face had to look of exhaustion. At the same time he used both hands to pull the garage door up.
"Nightsky?" Tart said, shocked.
"What were you expecting." He managed with some effort. Tart could tell that his words were difficult to get out.
"Nightsky!" Riggs came over his external speakers. "What took you so long?"
"Had to fix a water leak, duh!" Nightsky retorted, losing his footing for a moment.
Tart took a hold of his shoulder and braced him.
He shrugged her off. "I'm fine, Tart!" Nightsky motioned towards his gun. "Get the gun and get inside." Even as he spoke, Riggs was opening the side door of the Bison so the two of them could get in.
"That's right you two!" Riggs sounded. "We're the calvary and it's about time we acted like it!" The dwarf smiled. "So, in that case, there's only one thing to say." He took a deep breath and let out a gleeful battle cry.
"CHARGE!"
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