Bad Choices
Somewhere in Seattle
January 9, 2059
Michael wiped the fog off the mirror and looked at the reflection. He found himself staring at a face that didn't know what to think. His eyes were wide, much wider than they should be. Like something had startled him. His hair was completely soaked from the rain that was falling outside. A flittering in his stomach made him nervous and edgy. It was hard for him to even lift a glass of water without spilling it. He looked into his eyes again, seeing fear in his own self.
He turned off the facet that was pouring out hot water. The med-patches on his wound dulled the pain, but still made his shoulder stiff and tingling. Trying to rotate his arm brought only the sharp reply of a cramped muscle.
Nightsky looked at his reflection again. "What have I gotten myself into?" He asked himself, almost like he was expecting an answer.
"Did you say something, Michael?" A voice came from the next room.
"No," Nightsky shrugged. "Nothing."
But it was something. It came from the feeling of being lost. Less than twelve hours ago Nightsky was seemingly on top of the world. Now he felt that he was being tramped beneath it's harsh heels. He found himself lost and not knowing what to do. Never thinking that this would be how he would feel. He imagined feeling pride and strength, but he was unsure how he was suppose to feel now.
Quietly he leaned down on the sink, holding his hand behind his neck. Water dripped from his hair that mingled with the blood stains in the sink. For not the first time he wondered "How did I get myself into this?"
Twelve Hours Earlier
Nightsky hosted himself up the cable. The elevator shaft was so dark that he had to wear a pair of thermographic goggles to see where he was going.
At the promise of nuyen from a local friend of a friend named Devon, Nightsky had agreed to sneak into the hotel and retrieve a datachip from a locked safe. He needed the money in more ways than one. The least of which would be to pay off some long time debts. Though he would have preferred to take a little more time, Devon had insisted that he needed the chip in his hand as soon as possible.
It had already taken him the better part of an hour to get into the Seattle Hilton. He made his way through the sewers underneath the hotel that lead into the basement. From there he managed to gain access to the elevator shaft. It was a simple matter to climb up the cable and get to the fourth floor. That was his destination. However it amounted to climbing up over twenty meters. One misplaced hand and Nightsky would be dead when he hit the ground. That was considering that the elevator didn't come down on his head first.
He shouldn't have to worry about the elevator, though. He promised Tuna, a close friend he met in the Tir, a cut of the money if she would run the Matrix cover for him. In return she would make sure that no elevator landed on his head. At least not without some advanced warning. She couldn't simply stop the elevator. That would cause a repair team to be called in. Tuna could also gain access to the cameras that would be watching the hallway of the fourth floor. With her cyberdeck, she could loop the view of the camera so that Nightsky could get past them without being seen.
When he was planning this escapade, it looked to simple. In reality, Nightsky found that it was far more complex. Slugging his way through the sewers was bad enough, but he had come prepared for that by wearing a jumpsuit that he could shed when he reached the basement. Once inside, he could gear himself up without worrying about anything failing because it had been dipped in a sewage bath.
The climbing was becoming a real chore. Nightsky's heavy gloves provided him with a sturdy grip, but the effort to haul himself up was taxing his limits. The heat from the machines on either side of him made climbing the line a difficult task worse. Yet he only had a few more meters to go. He was climbing with a bare minium load to make it easier.
Then his hand slipped. Nightsky cursed and flailed around in the darkness to regain his grip.
"'Sky?" Tuna's digital voice came over the micro transceiver that he had attached to his coat color. "Don't you go falling on me cause I need that payoff worse than you do."
Nightsky managed to grab the cable, letting out a sigh of relief. Falling three stories to the unforgiving ground wasn't how he wanted to end his night. It was one of the major fears on his mind besides that of security finding him..
"It's good to know where your priorities are, Tuna." Nightsky retorted as he pulled himself even with the fourth floor's elevator doors. "You've got the cameras covered?"
"Don't frag yourself up over them, their out of the way." He voice sounded distant, but the modified program that Tuna used to setup a communication was cobbled together to begin with. Nightsky was just happy it worked. "But if I were you, I'd be more concerned at whose at the door you want. It got a vid on a guy that's standing just 'round the corner in your path."
"Frag, I knew this wasn't going to work. How far is he from the corner?"
"Less than, say, two meters? Not much."
"I can hack it." Nightsky said as he climbed up the cable a little higher. "Pop the doors." The doors to the fourth floor slid open. Night flung himself through them and landed in a low crouch on the floor. He quickly moved to the wall and pressed himself up against it. Above him he saw a video camera contained in a small box. The red light on the box winked twice, showing that Tuna was with him. Nightsky felt a little comfort knowing that he was not alone. The doors slid back together.
He pulled out his handgun and attached a silencer to the end of the barrel. Then made sure the Manhunter's laser sight was working before returning the firearm in its holster. He retrieved a stun baton from the snap on his belt and checked it's charge, seeing that it was good.
Nightsky afforded a deep breath. One to relax his nerves and center himself. It helped him to focus on what he had to do and shut out the rest of the world. There was no turning back now. He moved for the corner knowing full well that a guard was less than two meters away. He's motion was silent, not making the faintest sound to be heard. Methodically, he began to count the time it took him to walk the ten meters to the corner. He was clocking himself, allowing less than ten minutes for him to get inside and get what he came for. At the corner, counting was over. It was time.
He snaked around the corner as quickly as he dared, making a jointed stab with the stun baton. The guard seemed to flinch, but he was not startled. His hand reached inside his coat. Nightsky's eye caught the movement and readjusted his footing to being the maximum amount of force and struck the guard's forearm with the twin prongs at the end of the baton. The sudden impact made him worry that he had bent the prongs. He felt the blow push against the joint. The bones seemed to move part for a fraction of a second. The guard was about to let out a loud curse, but Nightsky retracted the baton and stabbed for the kidney while thumbing the baton's electric charge. The man at the end of the baton jerked for a moment than dropped to the floor, shaking mildly.
Nightsky wasted no time. He immediately locked the guards hands with a pair of plastic restraints and applied a tranq patch across his exposed neck. He found the guard armed with a pair of MP-5s which Michael took for himself. He knew better than to leave this man armed and waiting at the door. The last thing that he wanted was to run into him again.
With the guard sedated, Nightsky's mind began running a hundred miles an hour. Inside he was frantic too get this job finished so he could get out of there, but he had to stay calm and do it right. That still didn't keep the expression of fear from crawling across his features.
Nightsky went for the maglock on the door. From his coat he pulled a small microtronics kit. One that had only the tools he would need to get past the lock. It took less than a minute for him to open before the door swung open. The clock was ticking, time was counting down.
He checked the hotel room out from the doorway first, handgun at ready. He found it to be well decorated with a large bed, antique looking furniture, and an elaborate wallpaper pattern. Very Victorian design. Metal supports of gold-painted pipe ran across the ceiling. There was also a air-conditioner vent between the supports.
Satisfied that it was clear, Nightsky did his best to drag the unconscious door guard inside. The man was quite heavy and it was awkward to make him fit through the door, but the guard couldn't just be left outside. That would attract a lot of unwanted attention.
The door closed quietly and Nightsky ran his eyes over the room. He found the safe that he was looking for implanted in the wall next to the bed. He bounded over to it, making his movement as smooth and fluid as he could to minimize noise. Another maglock kept the small safe sealed. Yet the lock was only a nuisance. One that he quickly removed. Inside the safe Nightsky found what he was looking for. The datachip he was after rested in a small box in the center of the safe. He smiled at his prize, but also felt a little disappointed that the chip was the only thing in the safe.
He slid the chip into his coat pocket and turned to leave. He pushed the safe's door back, but there was no hiding the maglock that had been overcome. Nightsky didn't care about that anymore. He had what he came for and now all he wanted to do was get out.
His eyes wondered to a small table on his way out. Normally Nightsky would have just glanced at it and moved on. However, on the end of this table, rested a small electronic piece of equipment about the size of a large calculator. The table itself was small and low to the ground. The center of it was glass while its frame looked like it was made out of some kind of cheap plastic. It added to the decoration of the room, but was also very inexpensive.
Nightsky's eyes danced over the electronic marvel again. He knew what it was, more importantly he knew what it was worth. That single item was probably worth more than he was getting paid. Not to mention that having a passkey like that would make getting past locks much easier. His greed would get the better of him. Instead of just leaving the passkey were it lay, Nightsky took it from it's resting place and stuffed in his coat. For a moment, he felt himself flushed with pride for finding such a valuable piece of equipment. Then the sound of a toilet flushing filled his ears. Nightsky's mind realized what this meant and immediately started thinking of a place to hide. The bathroom door opened not more than two meters away from him. The blinding light that poured into the room disorientated things for the briefest of moments.
A man stood there. He wasn't very tall, around five foot nine. He wore a tailored suit that screamed he was corporate. However his face looked nothing like a typical wage slave. He had a long scar running from his temple to his jaw. A harsh looking mustache nested under his nose and his eyes didn't look normal. They were much to large and seemed to glitter in the faint light.
"What the frag!?" He worded. Nightsky's eyes darted to the man's hands. He saw in one the man was holding a large automatic pistol while the other was pulling something out of his pocket that looked like a silencer. It made sense. This man couldn't just open up fire without drawing the attention of the hotel's security.
Nightsky started to move for his own handgun, but realized that he would never be able to free it from his holster in time. Instead he spun on his left heel and swung the end of the stun baton around to connect with the man's knee. There was an audible crack as the metal end of the baton impact with cartilage and bone. Michael frowned a little, knowing that his baton was going to have a new collection of dents once this night was over.
The man dropped, bringing him eye level with Michael who arched his wrist, preparing to snap the stun baton against the man's temple and release the charge. The man in the suit was stronger than he looked. He reached out and snatched the middle of the baton and yanked it right out of Michael's hand and tossed it across the room. Then took the butt of his pistol and took a swing at Michael's head.
Nightsky barely managed to drop prone before the suit knocked him off his feet. He locked his foot and hand on the coffee table that the passkey had been sitting on. Then, with a great heave, he flipped the table onto the suit's head. The glass of the table shattered over him, cutting deep groves in his face. The suit screamed and raised his hand against the hail of shards only to have his wrist slashed, making him drop his pistol.
Nightsky saw his chance to escape and took it. He scrambled to his feet and evaluated his escape root in his mind. Though he was somewhat hesitant and deciding which way to go. For some reason, running out the door didn't feel right. So instead he darted towards the bed. There he leaped onto the bed and used it as a spring to boost him up high enough to he could grab one of the supports on the ceiling.
The suit was cursing now and screwing on the silencer to his gun. Nightsky almost panicked. With one smooth motion he brought his legs up and kicked through the ventilation vent and swung himself inside. The scampered away from the open vent just as quickly as he could, but there wasn't enough room to move. He managed to step on a rat that squealed in protest.
"You think you getting away like that?" The suit snarled. "Me and Gordy are being paid too much to hose this up." He chambered the first round in his clip. "Too bad for you!"
The suit started firing away at the ceiling. It sounded like he was emptying his whole clip. Bullets smashed through the ventilation shaft, criss-crossing it with little beams of light. Nightsky tried to get out of the way, but bullets tore up the area he was in. The rat that he had accidentally stepped suddenly blew apart as a round struck it. Nightsky grimaced as the bullets pass all around him. He felt one strike the armor on his forearm and then another tore through the ballistic fabric at the tail end of his long coat. A third bullet flattened out against his ribs, resulting in a pulsating pain, but nothing penetrating the armored coat. It didn't stop him from feeling it. Then a bullet grazed up against his leg. Nightsky felt it as it stripped the denim of his pants right off and burned at his skin. It was only a nick, but the sharp sensation it produced caused Michael to let out a small scream. He reached down to grab his wound when a round tore through the ceiling, the vent, and impact against Michael's shoulder. The bullet found a weak spot in between ballistic weave and punched through, burying itself in his shoulder. The force of the impact flipped Michael on his back. His world drowned out in pain.
The gunfire stopped with the faint sound of an empty clip being ripped away. Nightsky had a moment to pull himself together. The stinging in his leg and fire in his shoulder made it hard for him to concentrate. He lay peering out a corner of the open vent, seeing the suit below him fumbling through his coat.
"Yeah, that'll teach you to frag with us. When Gordy wakes up he'll be happy to know that I geeked you." The suit said as he found another clip in his coat pocket. Unfortunately his clumsy fingers caused him to fumble it. The clip bounced underneath the bed. "I'll be extra nice tonight and use another ten rounds on you. It's not going to run me anything extra."
Nightsky's mind was running wild. He felt horrible and knew that the end was coming. It was like he was going to get blown in half like that rat.
The rat?
Nightsky glanced up and saw the butt-end of the rat that had caught one of the first rounds. He glanced beyond the open vent and saw a series of bullet holes. Light pouring through each of them like a small candle. Nightsky smiled.
He grabbed the rat with his good hand and smacked it against one of the bullet holes. He frowned and squeezed the rat against the hole, making drops of its tainted blood ooze through the bullet hole and land on the bed's white sheets. He managed a glance out the open vent to see the man take notice of the blood dripping on the sheets.
"Ah!" He exclaimed. "Looks like I hit something."
Nightsky dropped the mouse and scoot at littler further back away from the hole he pushed the dead rat through. He managed to drag his Manhunter out of its holster with his good hand. He stifled a cry for pain and hunkered down to wait. The rat was on the opposite side of the open vent that he was on.
Below the suit moved a chair up in under the vent and climbed up on it. "Ow, drek. Don't tell me I'm going to have to drag that corpse out of the ceiling. This is really not my fragging day." The suit was short enough that he had to stretch to reach the vent. He managed to catch it with one hand, but had to stick his gun in his belt in order to get w grip with his other hand.
He lifted himself up to peer down the vent where the blood was coming from. The suit was expecting to see a broken body laying over the blood. After he got a good look, he was shocked to find only a dead rat.
"What the frag!" He almost yelled.
At that moment the suit had his back to Nightsky. The laser sight on Michael's handgun was centered on the back of the suit's head. The second the suit started to turn, Nightsky squeezed the trigger. From a mere meter and a half away, the man's head was splattered all over the inside of the vent. Bits of bone and gray matter washed up the vent and the body fell to the floor like a wet sack. Nightsky didn't look after he pulled the trigger. He felt the wet splash and knew what he had done. He didn't need any proof.
When he managed to crawl out of the vent and hit the floor, the suit was already laying in a red pool that was seeping into the carpet. Nightsky held his wound's and stared blankly at the corpse.
He sighed. He'd had enough for one night. Quietly he made his way out the way he came. The chip was in his pocket, but Michael was more concerned about finding a doctor than returning the blasted chip.
Nightsky shook his mind back to the present just as Tuna pushed the door to the bathroom open.
"What's tearing at you?" She asked with her vivid eyes. "Me? I'd figure you'd be happy! I mean you got the money." She smiled, thinking of what she had gotten too. "And I got mine!"
Nightsky afforded another sigh. "So?"
"SO?" Tuna was screeched. "So that means I can afford that new program I've been wanting to pick up. So now I can buy that little yellow-leather jacket I saw yesterday. So now I can go buy me a wonderful dinner at Red Lobster tomorrow." She frowned. "Lighten up a little. And tell me, what are you going to do with your half?"
Nightsky seemed to think about it for a second. His half? That's right, he had money now. So what was he going to do with it?
He looked back in the mirror and shuddered at what he saw.
"What?" Tuna asked.
"I'm getting out of Seattle for a while."
"What!" Tuna was once again using the higher pitch to her voice to make sure she was heard. "Why? What's wrong with Seattle?"
He shrugged, not knowing what to say. "It smells funny."
"Well, DUH, it's the sprawl. Where you going to go?"
"Lenny said he was taking a trip to Boston in a few days." Nightsky said as he wiped his hand across his forehead. He seemed to add in his comment as an afterthought. "I've never been there before."
"So? It's that like a reason to go or something?" Tuna frowned again. "That's not a reason, that doesn't even count. You've got to have a reason for just running off to Boston with Lenny. He'll be gone for a while, or did you forget that? You go with him and you'll be out of Seattle for weeks. Can you scan?"
Weeks, Nightsky though, that should be enough time.
"Besides you haven't left Seattle since we got here. I don't think you'd know what to do if you left this sprawl. You'd be lost out there." Tuna kept saying. "Besides, Devon might give another call for a chance to make more money."
"Is money all your thinking about?"
That quieted her down a little, but not for long. Tuna had this look on her face that attempted to say something like "How dare you! But your right."
"Well," She stammered. "Not always."
Nightsky smirked.
"But you still can't just leave Seattle without a good reason." She retorted. "It would be....well," She glanced to the floor, attempting to think of the right word to use. "Rude. So you see? You've got to have a reason."
Nightsky thought about it. Then glanced at his hands. They were a little sore and pale. That probably came from the blood loss or something. There were still little stains of red between the fingers.
"I've got a reason." He said, and headed for the door.