Chapter Four
Bad Vibes
Somewhere in the
Slaish-Shidhe Council
November 3, 2059
1:35 am
The green and black Bison van tore through the back roads. The heavy tires sloshed through the muddy roads. The passengers were cramped inside, suffering under a broken air conditioner and high humidity. The rigger, a pudgy dwarf, sat in the driver's seat with wires running from the jacks in his head. Not that there was much in the way of an actual steering wheel. The van had been through quite a number of modifications. The steering wheel was collapsible. At the moment it was folded away. The dwarf had almost completely redesigned the layout adding heavy armor plating and bullet proof glass. His feet couldn't reach the pedals, but he didn't need to. The rigger's mind was connected directly with the machine. The van's lights were off. They have been off the entire trip.
"Riggs, how much further?"
"'Bout five klicks, bossman."
Lenny nodded sparing a glance at the rest of the team.
Shard was in the front seat. The elf's long, blond hair fell in sharp shards about her head. That is where she got her alias. Her eyes were closed while she focused on some other plan of existence. Lenny recognized the look on her face as the same one she got when astrally perceiving. Perhaps she was giving last minute instructions to her elementals which had an important role on this run.
Nightsky sat directly behind Riggs. He looked calmer than usual. Normally he was an excitable battery of energy just before a run. He wasn't that way now. A traditional katana, traditional weapon of ancient Japan, lay across his lap. Lenny hadn't seen the before, but from the craftsmanship of the blade he guessed that it had cost the adept a small fortune. He had insisted on bring it, even though it damaged the image Lenny was hoping to project later tonight. A small girl sat across from the adept. The armored jacket almost swallowed her whole. A cyberdeck rested peacefully in her arms. Curly hair hid the datajack behind her ear. She was the decker, Tart. She did not carry a gun anymore. Only a nacroject pistol loaded with a chemical cocktail. The dartgun had belong to Nightsky, but he had since moved on to different tools.
In the back of the van, amid the drones and equipment, sat a new face to the group. An ork who called himself Findler. He had picked up a last minute contract from Hector, a fixer. Findler had been bit of a thorn in Lenny's side in planning for this run. He questioned every decision made, but Lenny won out in the end. The only thing that came from the arguments was Lenny's growing distaste with the ork, but he knew that he couldn't let that distaste affect his performance tonight.
A disturbed individual in the back of the van served to make Findler uneasy. Smiley, the eccentric samurai, stared at Findler with a twitching eye. It would be wrong to call Smiley a street samurai. Calling someone a street samurai implies that they have a honor code. If Smiley had such a thing he had never shown it. Smiley wasn't exactly a mercenary either. He wasn't in it for the money. Instead he was more of a gillette, a heavily cybered individual. Little more than a thug, following the instructions of others when on a job. Over the past few years Smiley had earned a sadistic reputation. At the moment he was scratching an itch on his unshaven chin with his cyberspur.
Seven shadowrunners more than a hundred and fifty kilometers outside of the Seattle Sprawl. Shadowrunners who are following the shadows. A group of people hired to perform the less than legal activities that their namesake suggests. Their business brings them out here by the promise of nuyen that a shadowrun brings. This time the group was running an extraction. Extractions were becoming common with the groups, either by choice or fate.
Lenny folded his pocket secretary up. He had been studying the layout of The Laken Retreat for most of the trip. He pulled his Predator from its holster, pushed a fresh clip in, and slowly chambered the first round. Findler had said the Predator wasn't much of a gun with the opposition the team was facing. In fact, Findler had complained a lot about the armaments for tonight.
"What's the matter, Lenny? Stress getting to you?" Findler chuckled.
"You know, Findler, I'd enjoy this trip a lot better if you would shut the frag up." Nightsky snapped.
"Heh, both you slags are fragged." Smiley sneered. "I'm missing a Care Bears special on Cinamax tonight, but I'm not twitching over it."
"Care Bears, Smiley? Isn't that a kiddie show?"
Smiley's grin turned into a frown. "If I wanted you opinion about it, drekface, I'd beat it out of you."
"Oh, frag, Smiley. If you can find happiness in that drek-"
"Frag you!" Smiley snapped. "Happiness is a belt fed weapon in a crowded pet store."
"Cut it." Lenny warned.
Normally that was enough to quiet the group down. They had worked together long enough to know that the time for fooling around was over. Findler was about to keep ranting, but Smiley started fiddling with his shotgun. The look the samurai had on his twisted features was enough to make Findler reconsider.
"Hang on, chummers." Riggs warned as the Bison turned off on a far less traveled path. The van's passengers got a heavy jolt. The bumpy ride only lasted five minutes, but it felt longer. Eventually they came to a rolling halt in sparse woods.
The side door slide open. Lenny stepped out into the cool night air. It was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the Bison. Lights from the Retreat could be seen in the distance. Lenny lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes.
"Looks peaceful." Nightsky noted.
"I doubt it will do any good, but I'll ask again. Would you leave that sword here?"
"No."
"I'll put you on the second team."
"Fine by me."
Lenny frowned. Appearance was very important tonight, but both of them knew that Nightsky would be more useful on the first team for the infiltration.
"Then leave the talking to me?"
"It's all yours."
There was a loud thunk behind them as Smiley dragged a large, foul smelling bag from the Bison. He hefted it over his shoulder. The augmentations under the samurai's skin made the weight almost unnoticeable. Any discomfort was blocked the pain editor in Smiley's skull. It blocked the feeling aching muscles.
The binoculars gave Lenny a view of the perimeter fence. It was something one would expect to see on a ranch with its neatly painted wood. It looked disarmingly harmless.
"That depends on how you look at it." Lenny turned his head as Shard stepped out of the van. He looked expectantly at her.
"We were right. The fence is an astral perimeter for watcher spirits. There must be half a dozen of them zipping around. Two of them are watching the sky, four are on the grounds. There are some markings of other spirit activity. I can't tell what kind, but they are close."
"Probably from the onsite shaman. Not to mention physical security. The guards are said to be fierce."
"They'll be less fierce when they're dead." Smiley hissed.
Riggs and Tart came out from the back of the van. Riggs placed a small satlink dish on the Bison's roof, pointing it through a clearing in the trees. The two ran a quick check on the dish before Riggs started hauling a drone off its rack.
Lenny watched the two work and pondered what he was getting his team into. This had been a tough assignment from the beginning. There was a lot of mojo out there. Lenny didn't like that. Magic made things unpredictable. It was hard to plan around that.
Nightsky stood some distance away. He seemed to be staring at the Retreat. Tart watched him. The adept seemed confident and alert. Right on the razor's edge of the Shadows and ready to dive in for more. She thought about the first shadowrun she had been on against Paratech. It seemed like so long ago now. She remembered how Nightsky said that he was always a little afraid before a run. It made her feel better knowing that he was a little scared under that confident exterior. Tart didn't worry about hiding her fear after that.
She remained transfixed on the adept for a few minutes. When he met her eye she cautiously looked away.
Lenny was also watching the Retreat. A look of concern was etched on his features.
"'Yen for your thoughts?" Shard said with a warm smile.
That smile was enough to brighten his mood. "You wouldn't be getting your money's worth."
"Try me."
Lenny pulled a crumpled back of cigarettes from his armored jacket and lit one with a cheap, plastic lighter. Behind him, Tart plugged her deck into the satlink and Riggs was booting up his drone.
"Anything wrong?" She pressed.
Lenny shook his head, sparing a glance at Smiley who was scratching his head with the barrel of his shotgun. "Nothing more than usual."
"You're thinking this one is going to be tough?" Shard pulled the words right out of his mouth.
"Bad vibes, that's all."
"Vibes? Karma?" Findler had overheard him. "Doesn't mean drek. This will be a cake."
Lenny rolled his eyes. He hadn't asked for the ork's opinion.
"Yo, bossman?"
"What is it, Riggs?"
"Killer Fishtank's up and running." Riggs patted his box-like drone. The rigger had a set of wires sprouting from his head, running to a compact control deck on his belt.
Lenny nodded, sparing a glance at Tart.
"I've found an uplink." Tart said, making herself comfortable in one of the Bison's bucket seats. "I'm ready to dive in."
"Good. Jack in, we're on our way." Lenny glanced at his watch, then at the road running to the Retreat. "Smiley. Night. Findler. It's time we were off."
Smiley grinned, showing his bleach white teeth. "Yes, fearless leader." The samurai adjusted the weight of the bag over his shoulders and plodded off. Nightsky followed wordlessly behind him.
"Always giving orders, huh, Lenny?" Findler sneered before walking off. He carried a heavy duffel bag.
"I'll move Fishtank into place." Riggs snorted, rubbing his nose. "See you fraggers on the other side."
Lenny nodded his approval as the dwarf disappeared into the van. Shard stepped up to him.
"Can you handle the spirits?"
"They will not be a problem." She smiled at him. "Watch yourself in there, Lenny. Don't get yourself killed."
"I'll try not to." Lenny flicked his cigarette away and disappeared into the darkness.
1:47 am
Sally Ikioka drove down the dark road in her sedan. It took all of her will to stay awake. The music, a classical jazz piece form the past century, and fresh air weren't helping. She was almost home though. Soon she could kick her heels up in her apartment and bury herself in work again. The past week had put her behind schedule.
Her drug addict brother had gotten into trouble again. Sally had to make the trip to Denver to bail him out. After that she had to make sure he checked himself into a clinic and stay this time. On top of it all she had been delayed in Salt Lake with two blown tires. All in all the trip had been one gigantic headache. Sally would have taken a plane if it wasn't for her extreme fear of flying. A short flight would have been welcomed after this week.
Sally rubbed her eyes with her fingers and yawned. The black pavement passed endlessly. It was like watching some old flatvid. Soon her eyes were being dragged down by sleepiness. She had nearly dozed off twice over the many miles from Denver. It would be a shame to now so close to home.
Then she saw a broken shape in the middle of the road.
"What the-?!"
Sally slammed on the breaks. The sedan came to a screeching halt. The broken shape of a deer lay in her headlights. The animal wasn't moving.
"Those pricks! How could someone leave an animal like this?"
Sally opened her door and rushed to the creature's side. Her spirit was already summoning to strength to heal the poor thing. As she got closer, looking at it through astral eyes, she say that she was too late. Curse her blown tires. If she was only a few hours earlier she might have been able to save its life.
"Sad, isn't it?"
Sally jumped right out of her skin. She looked up to see an odd main with a twisted grin on his face. She didn't even notice him come up.
"What?" The man leered. "Never seen a dead critter?"
Before she had a chance to answer something very cold was placed at the back of her neck. An instant later a paralyzing jolt of electricity poured from a stun baton's capacitors. Sally collapse over the deer, unconscious.
"Guess not."
Lenny clipped his baton onto his belt.
"You were suppose to knock her out, Smiley." Findler said.
"Looks like Lenny did okay."
"Maybe you're going soft. Maybe your rep isn't as sharp as the streets say."
Smiley gave a wide grin, but didn't say anything more.
Lenny crept up beside the unconscious body. He had a syringe in his hands. The chemical cocktail would put Sally out for hours. He searched her, coming up with car keys and a pass for the Retreat's gate.
"Smiley, get that deer off the road. Nightsky, take care of this one." Lenny motioned at Sally.
"Yes, fearless leader." Smiley hissed as he dragged the carcass into the ditch. Nightsky slapped some messy restraints on Sally before stashing her in some bushes by the roadside.
Findler unzipped a duffel bag he had brought from the Bison. Inside was a set of metallic signs he slapped on the doors. There was also a new licence plate to replace of the car's original. The sedan had corporate markings by the time the deer carcass and Sally had been hidden in the bushes. Velcro patches bearing corporate logos were slapped on the shadowrunners' armored jackets and matching caps were passed out.
For a moment Lenny thought about what had been said before the run.
"The place has more baddies than a brawl game." Findler had said. "How are you planning on getting in without bringing down a drek storm?"
"We're going to walk through the front door." He had answered
The shadowrunners piled into the car. Their matching armored jackets and jumpsuits bore corporate logos. They pulled firearms for the first time. Ares Predators and SCK Model 100 submachine guns.
As the group approached the Retreat's main gate Lenny pulled out Sally's passkey and slid it across the reader. The gate opened. At the same time Lenny hoped Tart had already changed the card's electronic ID. The reader would show the card as belonging to a corporate response team out of Seattle, not a lowly researcher coming back from a family emergency. Unfortunately there was no way of knowing how the card showed up on the security chief's booth. Riggs couldn't call in and ask. The transmission might be picked up. Sure, it would be scrambled, but red flags would go up everywhere.
The sedan rolled to a stop in front of the Retreat's main door. The four men immediately got out. They walked through the foyer. Lenny didn't even glance at the security cameras. He hoped the others would suppress their natural curiosity to do so too.
As they entered there was a distinct change in the mood. A pair of security guards stared at them. Their hands were wrapped around compact submachine guns. The same models the four of them carried. The guards didn't warn or call out to the group either from orders or confusion.
A third guard sat behind a booth. He was an older man in his mid fifties with a wrinkled face and a lively mustache. One questioning eye was trained on the group which stopped right in front of his booth.
Lenny moved his hand very carefully to his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of plastic cards. He did so with an air of confidence about him as the rest of the team stood motionless behind him. The amount of self discipline the group showed was better than average. Lenny had wanted them to stand perfectly still with their eyes focused straight ahead. It was a tough thing for a shadowrunner to do. Most of them are use to knowing everything that goes on around them.
"I am Peter Tetshuio." Lenny spoke with a voice of authority as he placed his identification on the booth. "Special agent from the Vancouver office. Where is Mr. Ethan Brown?"
The guard rubbed his furrowed brow. "Well, he's asleep in his suite."
"You will take us to him now."
"Why should I?"
"That is not your concern!" Lenny snapped. "This is a matter of Corporate Security. You will take us to Mr. Brown immediately."
"I'll have to check these." The guard tapped the cards he had been given against the desktop.
"Be quick about it!" Lenny glared, putting edge on his words.
The guard rubbed his chin for a moment, eyeing the group that had waltz onto his shift in the middle of the night. The man's eyes were definitely cybernetic. His companions were obviously some heavy hitters. However, there had been no call from the corporate office about a bunch of troubleshooters coming down. Of course, the head office probably wouldn't tell them about it to begin with.
"Patrick!" The chief called. A young man came over with all the enthusiasm of someone who enjoyed his job too much.
"Yes, sir?"
The chief motioned at the group. "Take these gentlemen to see Mr. Brown."
"Right." Patrick turned, then stopped. "Brown? Uhm....."
"Fourth floor number six."
"Right!" Patrick said cheerfully. "This way, uhm, sirs."
Lenny watched Patrick for a moment, then turned his attention back to the chief. Without another word he motioned the group to follow Patrick. As the five of them entered the elevator the chief passed the cards through the reader. Just as the elevator doors shut Lenny saw him pick up the phone. As the numbers were punched Lenny's confidence in Tart's abilities wavered for just a moment.
2:04 am
The digital paradise of the Matrix filled Tart's senses. She was so much more at ease in this world of light, data, and code. This world was more real than that other one. The one where people moved around in flesh and blood bodies. There was no disease in the sparkling lights and towering icons. Nobody starved here. Starving was something that meat bodies did. The light of the Matrix didn't know anything about that.
Tart's icon rested quietly in what represented the security hub's processor. She was nothing more than a shadow amid the flowing streams of data that passed invisibly around her. The node lighted up as the chief security guard in the meat world passed the false papers through his terminal. Tart watched the transaction on the lobby's security cameras. She was ready for him.
As the request filtered through the node Tart intercepted and rerouted it. Instead of going through the corporation's home office it went to a freespace node where a reply was waiting. The file confirmed the identity of Peter Tetshuio, but little else. Everything about the fictional person's assignment and companions was classified.
Tart gave herself a virtual pat on the back as the prepared file displayed on the chief's screen, but as she glanced camera feed she saw the chief on the telecom.
Oh no!
Tart jumped nodes, bringing up the Retreat's telecommunications grid. The chief's call had a Seattle number. Tart shut it down instead of tracing it and losing valuable seconds. On the camera display the chief looked puzzled. He dialed the number again. Tart cut it off just as quickly.
Too quickly.
The sloppy and messy trampling of data set off red flags on the security grid. The node goes red with warning lights. Intrusion countermeasures come online in the form of a small hovering camera. A Probe IC.
The camera sprouted a mouth a spoke in a biting Salish voice. "Your presence in this node is against security regulations! Provide identification!"
"Renraku Service Programmer No. 2243." In the meat world Tart's fingers danced across the cyberdeck's keys. A deception program loaded, pulling active memory away from combat protocols.
There was a problem. The program failed to execute.
In the meat world Tart swallowed deeply.
"You have no authorization!" The camera spat.
Black hellhounds sprouted from the node's floor, snarling and snapping at Tart's icon. Their mouths glowed with Matrix fire as their damaging code loaded onto the mainframe. In less than an instant Tart saw she was in serious trouble and trashed the useless deception program from her deck's active memory.
The dogs of hell howled and charged, biting and tearing into her icon with an effectual glee of a real rabid animal. The pain the beasts inflicted was real. Her mind shot the feeling through her meat body.
Tart reached into her toolbox and threw a handful small cards across the node. The cards lighted up mirrors sending the dogs into a frenzy of mayhem against the decoys. A heavy attack program lifted from her deck's memory and moved to smite the nearest beast. The hellhound's code was ripped to tethers as the construct shattered into a thousand pieces. Pride swelled up within her. This world was definitely better than that other one.
Then two hellhounds rose up to replace the fallen one.
Cascading IC!
In the real world Tart gasped. Sweat broke from her brow as the monitor on her deck switched to red. The new hounds jumped her icon. Tart's finger's flew across the cyberdeck's keys, spilling one's code across the virtual environment and narrowly evading the second.
Two more hellhounds grew out of the node. The other joined in and kept coming. They overwhelmed the intruder. Tart's mind screamed as they bit and tore and burned her icon. Her deck started to redline. Programs crashed leaving her vulnerable.
"Don't take me down!" She screamed in frustration, unsure whether she was screaming in the Matrix or the real world as she tore at the code to no avail. Her deck was going critical. The pressure inside her head was growing with each passing second as the hounds ravaged her icon. Tart opened her virtual eyes to see the dogs above her with their frothing mouths and flaming teeth. They tore into her icon and filled her mind with buzzing static. The Matrix suddenly blanked out.
Tart's meat eyes opened to behold the inside of the Bison. Cool air was blowing through the opened door. Shard was sitting just outside. Riggs was in the driver's seat. The hellhounds and the ocean of light were gone.
Tart had been dumped.
Suddenly an urgency gripped her. She spoke louder than she ever had before. "Riggs! Call Lenny!"
Riggs snapped out of comatose state. His mind had been plugged into the Bison, but the van's pickups and heard the decker's call. "Tart? What the hell are you doing out!?"
"I couldn't stop it! Call Lenny!"
"I can't now, they're on the inside. They'll pickup the transmission."
"What's wrong?" Shard questioned.
"I can't call Lenny! They'll pick it up!"
Tart held her head. The insistent buzzing was so loud she could barely hear herself thing. "I was dumped!"
Shard rubbed Tart's cheek, sensing the pain she was in. "Riggs, I think you should warn Lenny.
"I can't! They could trace the signal back here!"
Shard grabbed the dwarf by his collar. "It doesn't matter! They've already been made! Make the call!"
"Okay! Okay! The last thing I want to do is drekoff a spellworm." Riggs keyed the van's transmitter and punched a signal into Lenny's transceiver, but was rewarded with a blaze of static that made his head spin. "Oh frag!"
"What is it?"
Riggs pulled the datacords from his jacks. "They're jamming the frequencies. I can't get through!"
"That means they've already been discovered." Shard looked at him with wide eyes. Out the window the lights of the Retreat could easily be seen. A sinking feeling filled her. "Oh great spirits, what are we going to do now?"