Chapter Fourteen
Not Long Enough
Touristville
Redmond, Seattle
July 13, 2059
9:56 pm
Nightsky stared at the cup of coffee like it held the secrets to the universe. Steam rose up from the black liquid. The strong scent of soycaf lingered in the air. Nightsky preferred the smell to that of burnt flesh. The stench of that was still burned into his nostrils. Though the cup could be made of gold and Nightsky would still pay no attention to it.
The lead on Sand turned out to be worthless. Seoul had been right about Sand staying at a rundown motel, though. However, Nightsky had spent an hour looking around and asking questions. He found the room Sand occasionally sued to be deserted. It had not been used for some time judging from the thickness of the dust and cobwebs. A few kind words and a flask of rum bought confirmation from the local squatters. They knew who Sand was, but said they had not seen her around for weeks.
Now his only lead was dead. If he couldn't find Sand he couldn't find Imira. A sense of failure entered the fringes of Nightsky's thoughts as he sipped at the soycaf. He grimaced, not liking the taste at all. He tolerated it more for the drink's caffeine content.
Nightsky found himself thinking back to when he first started in the business of Shadowrunning. His first run was for a sleazy local fixer. He remembered how simple it had all sounded. Sneak into a room at the Seattle Hilton, get a chip from the room safe, and bring it back. Easy, right?
That run had gotten him shot twice.
Easy as a falling off a log, right?
It was all drek.
Nightsky then thought about the first hook up with Lenny and the rest of the team. That run had gone much better than the ones he did alone. He found himself missing the support the rest of the team brought. His missed Lenny's level head and Shard's magical talent or Smiley's way with things. Nightsky laughed at himself when he realized he even missed Riggs' bantering.
Nightsky was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the grizzly ork until he took the seat across from him. The ork's bulk caused the tale to shake, spilling some of the soycaf from the untouched cup. The ork's metal arm made a clunk as it hit the table. Nightsky looked up from his thoughts to match the ork's scarred and rough features. The moment he did the sudden recognition forced his eyes to snap wide open. Somewhere in the back of his mind he expected the encounter. Somewhere else denied it was happening.
"Hello, Nightsky. Been a while."
"Hello, Gideon." Nightsky replied, seemingly unconcerned with the old runner's presence. Though he had to admit that the old teammate looked surprisingly healthy. Light flashed Gideon's chrome arm. The metallic gleam brought back a series of fracture memories over the passed few days.
"Hello?" Gideon grunted, tapping his steel fingers on the tabletop. "That the only thing you going to say to great your old teammate?"
"I suppose I could give you a big thank you." Nightsky's words dripped with sarcasm. "I don't know how you did it, but you pulled me out of that place with Imira. You even took me to Shard's."
Gideon grunted again, but didn't say anything. Instead he took Nightsky's untouched cup of soycaf and drank half.
"I've been doing some thinking, Gideon. I've had a lot of time for that lately. A couple of days ago some people broke into my doss. I never figured out how they got through my security. Including the keypad lock, the monowire, or the grenade strung by the door. I was actually quite impressed that someone made it through. Then I found out that fat drekhead was about as bright as a rock. No way he was smart enough to make it through. He could've had a sequencer for the keypad and seen the tripwire for the grenade, but I find it very unlikely that he just happened to walk through the doorway without being sliced by all the monowire. It was like he knew the pattern it was strung in." Nightsky leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The same pattern we use to string at the Boise safehouse in Auburn."
Gideon emptied the cup, smacking his lips together. "This is business?"
Nightsky glared at him. "I thought I could trust you."
"We're in the shadows. You can't trust anyone."
"Quite." Nightsky shifted slightly. "Keep you're hands on the table and that cyberarm pointed away from me."
Gideon could guess that Nightsky was holding a gun on him beneath the table. He did not question the adept's willingness to fire even in this public place. Some people might weigh their chances of taking Nightsky, but Gideon hadn't stayed the shadows so long by taking the quick way out. Experience and seeing Nightsky working on runs gave Gideon knowledge of his odds. Nightsky was faster than he was, making the adept more than capable of getting half a clip off at a moments notice. Gideon was at a disadvantage. He relied on his experience and wits instead of speed to keep from getting shot. Like he had so many times before. On the plus side, Nightsky rarely used any explosive or APDS ammunition, meaning that Gideon's armor provided some protection.
"It was you who broke into my doss, wasn't it?"
Gideon nodded.
"It was also you that brought me to Shard's."
Once again the ork nodded.
"Kind of contradicting yourself, aren't you?"
Gideon didn't say anything.
"Where have you been for the last four months?"
"Working."
"Where and for whom?"
"You know better than to ask me that. Business is business."
Nightsky frowned. He made a slight nod towards the table. "Tell me what affects me then."
"I took a run in California. Bodyguard mostly with some supervising of other hired help. My employer was more interested in spying on the mark, though. Wanted to keep a close eye on her."
"Who hired you?"
"Chummer named Darvish."
Nightsky barely stopped himself from bursting out screaming. He managed the suppress his rage to speak. "How the fuck do you know Darvish?"
"I first met him six years ago. He hired me and a few others for a run."
Six years? The date was eerily familiar. Six years ago Nightsky was in the California Free State. Right before his parents and Imira were kidnaped by a band of thugs and sold to a coven of vampires.
"Keep talking, Gid."
Gideon folded his fingers together. "The run was to snatch this family form a talismongering shop outside Sacramento and deliver them to a mansion in the country. There were four marks. The wife, the husband, the son, and the elf woman who worked there."
"My family." Nightsky said with distaste.
Gideon's modified hearing clearly picked up the sound of metal sliding against metal. Underneath the table the pistol's safety was taken off.
"We did the job, no questions asked. We made it look like a gang hit."
Nightsky expression was one of pure hate. The old monster that lived in the back of his conscious sprouted its black tendrils as the edges of hate turned to a raging need for revenge. Hate collected in its black pool, begging for a chance to see the world. To release the bound up energy that had been wrapped so tightly would be the greatest experience.
"Don't look to disappointed, kid. I didn't even know you then."
"I trusted you on the team." Nightsky sneered. "When did you recognize me? How long was I with the team until you figured out who I was?"
"While we were on the extraction from Mauss Chemicals."
"That when you decided to give me up?" Nightsky's words were filled with hate.
"Why didn't you tell me then? I've got a right to know!"
"It would weaken the trust you put in the rest of the team. That could have put us all in danger if you were too damn busy looking over your shoulder at me while we were breaking into the condoplex. The run comes first. Its business. I thought you knew that by now. You make sure you've got every edge you can get when you go on the run 'cause you know then that you've got the best chance of everyone walking away in one piece. You always do whatever it takes for the job."
"We had two weeks downtime after that run, Gid. Why didn't you tell me then?"
"Same reason. It would weaken your trust in the team."
"What would that have mattered?"
"I figured it didn't make any sense to tell you. You were better off not knowing. Besides, it would have still weakened your confidence in the team. If you didn't trust the team you were with you would have left. That would have been a bad move. Imira has been in Seattle looking for you since the beginning of the year. She would have found you a lot sooner if you hadn't stayed with the team."
"What makes you say that?"
A grin almost crossed Gideon's face. "You remember around July when the smuggling run to New Orleans came around?"
Nightsky nodded. The smuggling run was a job that Hector had offered. Eve was taking a load of contraband through the route to New Orleans. Hector hired Lenny, Shard, Riggs, Smiley, and Nightsky to go along for protection. The run had been a cakewalk. It was more of a vacation than a business trip. Nightsky did not know how Gideon knew about it.
"It got you out of Seattle for a month, didn't it?"
Nightsky conceded that. "Why did you leave?"
"The day before we picked up the missing persons with Abigail, Darvish called me. Said that he had a simple little operation he wanted me in on. I was officially hired to bodyguard Imira and instruct any other hired help she picked up. Unofficially, I was there to keep an eye on her."
"Then why the hell did you break into my place?"
"Stuff the sympathetic whining. Imira found out where you were. She discovered you were once part of the Blackhearts. She took the girl, Sand. With a little more legwork she found out where you lived. Then she sent me and those three gutterpunks she hired to get you. I got Willis through your security, but you would have killed him easily."
"If it wasn't for you." Nightsky supplied, figuring it was Gideon who shot him with the taser.
"Imira would have gotten to you sooner or later. If the ploy with the punks failed she would have sent that freakshow, Barnabas, to get you. He would not have been as gentle as I was."
"You handed me over to her."
"I did you a favor!" Gideon scorned. "I saved you a lot of broken bones. Barnabas would have done a lot worse than shoot you with a taser. Plus I pulled you out when the time was right."
"You let her torture me."
"Don't tell me that you weren't the least bit curious how Imira survived and what she wanted? I let you hear her out."
"You forced me into a choice that I didn't want to make!" Nightsky raised his voice. A few people in the Waffle Hut stared at the growing argument. A stern glance from Gideon sent them back to their business.
"You don't know how lucky you got it! I would have gotten you out before Imira had a chance to sink her fangs in." Gideon tapped his fingers against the empty cup. "Do you remember the missing persons run?"
"With Abigail, yes."
"Lenny kept going on about how sometimes it wasn't always about the money. He kept saying that sometimes it was important to do the right thing. I kept thinking he was halfscanned. It didn't make a drek of sense. I know you and Shard agreed with Lenny. Riggs was too damn paranoid to lean either way and Smiley," Gideon shrugged. "Smiley's just Smiley. I was business. The rest of you got distracted by a pretty face."
"Really? That night after we wrapped it up it seemed like you weren't so sure of yourself. Did you have a conflict of moral values? That's new one."
"Hey, stow it." Gideon growled. "How do you think I felt when I figured out that the same kid I sold six years ago is running on the same time I am?"
"You really want me to answer that?" Nightsky gestured at the unseen gun. The monster spread its black tendrils again. "I need to find Imira. Where is that place I was held?"
"In Auburn, but it doesn't matter anymore." Gideon explained. "Imira won't be there."
"How do you know?"
"She's not stupid. She knows I'm the reason you made it out. Everything that I was involved with was there. She'll put as much distance between us as possible."
"Where is she?"
Gideon shrugged. "I don't have a fraggin' clue."
Nightsky didn't like that answer. He sighed slightly, thinking everything over.
"What are you going to do about this mess?"
Nightsky refocused on him. "I can't let it slide, Gideon. I have to put things to rest. Everything to rest. For my own sake. Tell me everything you know. Who's this Barnabas?"
"He was the one with the loud lungs, remember? He's infected with the virus. Only he's an elf, so it made him into a Banshee."
"Elf? Imira's an elf."
"Darvish told me her looks are only cosmetic. Barnabas was sent by Darvish to do much the same thing I was doing. Darvish was using him to keep tabs on Imira. Apparently Imira has overstepped her bounds with him or something. I don't know much about their releationship."
"So, this Barnabas, what can he do?"
"As a Banshee the drekker can regenerate his wounds. He can also infect with the virus. Pretty much the same things a vampire can do. Barnabas isn't as physically strong as Imira, though, but he's got a talisman that gives him enhance strength. The little drekker can pack a bunch when he has to."
"How can I kill him?"
"Silver or wood." Gideon gave a broken-toothed grin, showing his yellow stained tusks. "Or excessive trauma."
"What about these gutterpunks that I've run into?"
"There are three of them. Willis was the chubby kid at your doss. Spike, the a nut with knives, is an asshole. His mouth does too much talking. Nails is his main squeeze. All of them have had a falling out Imira. They took off just after I got you out. I wouldn't put it beyond Imira to hunt them down."
"Don't know where they came from, do you?"
"The slitch, Nails, talked a lot. She mention Auburn. That's all I know."
Nightsky's pager went off. The number was Tart's.
"Still aren't using a phone anymore?" Gideon noted.
"Not that you should worry."
"So? You going to cap me or let me walk?" Gideon tapped his fingers on the table top.
Nightsky leaned back, considering the ork's words. "It was all business, right?"
"Not all business. Business got blurred in the end. I've washed my hands of the whole thing with the slitch." Gideon explained. "She probably going to hurt my rep."
"Sorry to hear your rep got trashed because of me."
Gideon grunted.
"Are you still working under Darvish?"
Gideon didn't answer. He chewed his lip with his tusks.
"Not going to answer me?"
"Don't have to. Business is business. That the way it is. Can't get any simpler than that. Treat everything like its business and you can't go wrong. Keep things professional."
Nightsky shook his head. "Just leave, Gideon." Nightsky waved him off.
Gideon stood, brushing his jacket. "Don't let things get too personal, Nightsky. If it comes to that you won't be able to do what needs to be done. Keep it business. You look at it like business an' it don't hurt none when you have to put someone down."
"Just leave." Nightsky said sharply.
Gideon turned for the door, but he paused for a moment. "By the way, you know Abigail and what Lenny said?"
"Yeah?"
"I still haven't figured if he was right or wrong."
Gideon left. As he went Nightsky wondered if he would ever see the ork again. Some part of him felt that he owed it to Gideon to invite him back. The sense of loyalty to the team bit at his heels. Nightsky dismissed it, knowing full well that Gideon would do exactly what he wanted. No one was going to tell him differently. At the same time Nightsky didn't know how he would feel if Gideon was came back to the team. He knew the ork's past now. He could never look at him in the same light. Things were different now. Next time would be as willing to let the ork go?
The pager beeped again. Nightsky spied a payphone near the bar. He slotted his credstick and tapped in Tart's number. Tart picked up on the first ring. It was audio only.
"It's Nightsky." He identified himself.
"Hey, Nightsky, I've been trying to get in touch with you." Tart said, sounding somewhat happier than usual. "You know that search you wanted me to do?"
"Yeah, find anything?"
"Imira has an account at Zurich. I couldn't tell how much, but I know it is at least six figures. There's a SIN, date of birth, whole history too. Pretty standard stuff. I can print it all out and you can drop by to pick it up."
"Maybe later. Did you find out anything about where she lives?"
"Yes." Tart answered. "Her name is on the lease of a townhouse in Everett."
Nightsky pulled a pen from his coat. "Do you have the address?"
"1221 Marksdale Drive."
Nightsky scribbled it on the palm of his hand.
"Do you want the rest of this?"
"No, not right now." Nightsky replied. "I'll swing by and pick the rest up when I have the chance. I've want to pay a visit to this address as soon as I can."
"Also, you remember how you told me to check for Folkstaffs in Seattle that owuld be attending a private school? That took a while, but I did turn up something. There's an Alona Folkstaff enrolled at St. Maria's Catholic School in Everett. I have some basic information about her. A profile, school records, a SIN."
"Anything really stick out?"
"Her address is listed as 1221 Marksdale too. Her SIN is from Tir Tairngire."
"That fits. Thanks, Tart."
"Okay, well. If you need anything else you know where to find me."
"Right." Nightsky hung up. He spared a glance at the address. Everett? He would need to find a car. He would also have to pick up something else.
And give Hector a call.
Everett, Seattle
July 14, 2059
3:55 am
"OW! OW! OW! OW! Damnit, that hurts!"
"Shut up, Willis. I'm tired of hearing you scream. I can always leave you to do this yourself." Nails scorned as she packed the grotesque crater which was all that was left of Willis' eye.
Spike spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "Fragging slitch, frag her." He mumbled as he pried a tooth out of his rotting gums.
"She worked you over real good."
"Go blow a troll, Nails!" Spike spat out another mouthful of blood. "Least I'm not a one-eyed freak like Willis."
"I got my eye burst out! Your teeth will grow back. My eye won't."
"Willis, you stupid shit, teeth don't grow back."
"But I lost teeth when I was a baby and they grew back."
"They were baby teeth you halfscan."
"But they grew back!"
"Shaddup!" Spike roared. "Shaddup or I'll punch out your teeth! Maybe I'll carve out that other eye so you'll have a matching set!"
"Both of you shut up!" Nails screeched. "I can barely hear myself think."
Spike laughed. "Hey, why should you have to think? You're so much better at doing other things." He ran his hand across her butt. "How's about you packing something else instead of Willis' eye?"
Nails backhanded Spike hard enough to knock another tooth loose.
"Fragging hell, Nails!" Spike slapped a hand across his mouth as more blood oozed out. "What the frag, slight? Have you lost your fraggin' chipped up mind?"
"No more than you've lost your edge by getting the drek knocked out of you. Both of you." Nails scorned. "I can't believe I'm still hanging with the likes of you two. You let a bunch of glitter faces crack your skulls."
"Last I saw you didn't get off so good either." Willis said meekly.
Nails grimaced, briefly remembering how close she had come to having her arm broken. "Shut up you one-eyed freak!"
"Just saying what I saw."
"You were half blind!"
"Heh, face it, Nails." Spike gloated despite the fact that his mouth looked like he had rinsed with razor blades. "Least me and Willis went down swinging. You got your ass handed to you. Nice ass, but flabby." Spike stood, holding his jagged knife loosely in his hand. "In fact, I bet you liked getting the snot beat out of you. I think that it turned you on." He pressed his knife against his cheek. "Maybe I should start beating you so you'll like it more."
Nails kicked him in the groin hard enough to rearrange his family jewels.
"Frag you, Spike! You're just as stupid fraghead that wouldn't know a good thing if it kicked you in the balls!"
Spike gasped, his mouth hung open in a futile attempt to scream. His wide jaws displayed their battle wounds with more glory than before. Missing teeth and busted lips were a truly remarkable and grotesque sight to behold. They added to Spike's raunchy looks perfectly. With little else to say beside shock and pain, Spike collapsed onto the floor. Nails firmly believed that his forehead hit the floor with a distinctively hollow echo. That didn't surprise her. She had always thought that his head was empty.
"That appeared like it hurt." A crisp voice noted. "I'm sure the young man won't soon forget it."
Nails and Willis whirled around to see the slender and impeccably dressed Barnabas standing in the doorway. His suit was as smooth as ever. His sharp, knife-like features did not hide his nature. The pale skin stretched across his bones reminded them that this was someone who never strayed into the limelight.
"You?" Fear filled every gasp of his word as Willis his small pistol from his belt. The streetline special was an ugly clunker in his hand. It could barely hold the .22 calibur round safely.
"How the frag did you get here!?" Nails screeched.
"I don't know, but he's not getting me! The slitch probably sent him." Spike flipped his knife up. He wasn't going down as easily this time.
Instead of feeling threatened, Barnabas chuckled. The action was completely out of context. Indeed he was not at all concerned about the threat the three of them posed. Barnabas seemed vaguely entertained by it.
"Actually, I'm not here for any of you." Barnabas grinned. "Quite the opposite really."
"What the frag are you talking about?" Spike spat.
"There's been a changing of the guard as it were. Imira is no longer in dominance of this situation. If it were left up to here she would have sent me to finish the three of you off."
Spike tightened the grip on his knife with those words.
"As it is, I have come to acquire your help."
"Help?" Nails sounded skeptical. "Imira tried to flatline us. Why should we help you after what happened?"
"Because I'm not working with Imira anymore. Quite the opposite, really." Barnabas produced a wad of nuyen notes from his pocket. He dropped it on the floor in front of Nails. "As to why, I suppose this covers it."
Nails glanced at the wad of money, then at Barnabas. "That clears up the why."
"Hey! Hang on now! I can't believe that you're seriously thinking about going with this slag?"
"Stuff it, Willis! Just stand there and look like you're doing something important." Nails snapped.
"But-"
"I said shut it!"
Spike glanced at the money. "What we got to do for it?"
"I want to you to go to 1221 Marksdale in Everett and bring me the young lady there named Alona. After that you'll never see me and Imira again. The code to the front front door is 34432."
"Nab someone? Easy." Spike gloated.
"I'm paying you in advance." Barnabas locked eyes with Willis. "But don't skip out on this offer. If you take the money and run I won't be happy. I found you once and I'll find you again. Then I'll kill you."
"Hey! No one threatens us."
"You pathetic mortal you have no idea the scale of the game you are attempting to play with me!" Barnabas raised his voice, shoving in the icy, cutting quality to his words which sliced straight through their ears. They visibly flinched as his words, as forceful as a concrete block, struck them. "Do as you're told and you'll be rewarded. Fail and you'll die. Get busy."
Barnabas turned to leave. As he did he chuckled to himself, knowing that he was now in control. Just as Darvish had wanted from the beginning.
Now Imira, Barnabas thought to himself, you will play my game.
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