Requiem's Run: Chapter Eight

Uncovered

     Jozu sat on the living room floor of Shikkon’s apartment, huddled, staring blankly at the letter from his boss. His thoughts strayed aimlessly about in his head, as he tried to piece information together. No matter how much he thought about it, he did not see a way out of this situation. Only through an honorable death, did he see an option. He set the letter on the floor in front of him, and continued his contemplation.

     His thoughts changed from the letter to Shikkon, where the hell did he go. Jozu looked at the digital display on the wall in the kitchen. “Five p.m.”, he said softly and blankly. It had been almost two days since he had last seen, or heard from, Shikkon in the Gendaiteki Panda.  Despite hiding out in one of Shikkon’s safe houses, he knew little of where he was, or what he was doing. “What could be more important than finishing this run?” He clenched his fist and clenched his jaw as he spoke to himself.

     The hours passed by, Jozu felt more at unease. No word from either the group, or Shikkon had come. His thoughts constantly moved back to that piece of paper, the demand of honor. A constant buzz rang through this bare bones apartment. Would it be his final memory, an incessant buzzing to compliment the shame and dishonor he had already faced?

It was then that Jozu looked up from the floor towards the kitchen counter, realizing the buzzing was now a phone. He noticed the sleek black phone resting in its charging cradle. He picked it up, and instantly recognized the number.

“Hello?” His voice was slightly tentative. “Hey frag face let’s go, we got the box,” it was unmistakably that wretched voice. “Entertainment,” Jozu responded dryly. “Where are we meeting?” Jozu was quick to respond. “At Betty’s place, drek eater, hurry up,” Entertainment’s voice was smug and arrogant. “Oh, and Entertainment,” Jozu was cut off by the ringing of disconnection. Insolent gaijin!! His thoughts angered by her continued arrogance. At least the buzzing wouldn’t be his final memory, but sadly it would likely be her.

     Hearing the locks shift in the door, Jozu nervously shot a look towards the door. He moved to behind the sofa in a quick motion, providing what little cover he could find in that instant, and drew out his predator. Nothing like being cornered for the last stand, thoughts betraying his calm demeanor. The knob on the door turned slowly, and the metal door opened inward with a little scrape along the floor.

     Jozu stared anxiously at the door, with his index finger along the predator. Waiting for whatever might come through, finally breathing a sigh of relief when Shikkon stepped through the door.

Dressed in enough gear to take on a small gang, the appearance gave Shikkon an even bulkier look than normal. Even with a secure jacket adorning his outer appearance completing his intimidating presence. Shikkon seemed unfazed by the weight and restriction. His dark hair hanged down the back, folded behind his elfin ears, as if his cares were on the back burner, somehow. Had they been in a poorer lit setting, Jozu could have mistaken Shikkon for an ork.

Shikkon, never really stopping, moved into the kitchen and open the fridge. “Any word from our co-workers, Jozu?” Shikkon’s voice was distant. Mr. Popular was taken aback by this change in character. How dare he address me in such a manner, Jozu’s arrogance never skipping a beat. “Yes”, He paused with a slight look of indignation, “Shikkon, they called just before you got here.”

Shikkon continued to ignore him in search of something in the fridge. Mr. Popular feeling more insulted by the second, continued, “They said they had recovered the box.” His exterior began to reflect his old-self, arrogant and confident.

“And?” Shikkon’s manner continued as indifferent and direct. As if he was preoccupied by other matters than the self-important feelings of his “boss”. He turned, to face Jozu, munching on a piece of bread.

“And…they want us to get over there and meet up with them,” his voice assuming authority. Shikkon finished another bite of bread and looked at Jozu. “Well, let’s go, I don’t want to keep them waiting,” without a hesitation Shikkon moved to the door.  Mr. Popular almost blinked from disbelief at his subordinate’s behavior. “Wait a minute, Shikkon Shin,” his voice still asserting an air of authority. Shikkon paused and glanced over his shoulder. A look that pierced Jozu’s hardened exterior. “How dare you, treat me this way. I am your superior.” Popular’s voice quailed only slightly, but he managed to remain resilient.

Shikkon made the slightest of turns, his hand still on the knob of the door. His demeanor hardened, and Jozu saw a stranger standing before him. Cold and callous, was this person standing before him, and of great strength. “No, you are out of place, Takeuchi.” Shikkon’s voice was condescending, “You have brought us shame within your family, and through your arrogance you have cost us much in this job. To me, you are, but a mere child. Now behave, and let us finish what we have started.” Shikkon turned abruptly away and headed down the barren hallway. “And lock the door behind you,” Shikkon spoke boldly to Jozu as he walked out the front door.

Mr. Popular stood in the doorway stunned with disbelief. Shikkon’s words hit him like a brick wall. His entire way of life was gone. Nothing was left for him now in his old world. Closing the door behind him, he fumbled with the lock dumbfounded. Locking the door, he moved down the hallway to the front door. “My time has ended,” he mumbled to himself in a startling state of self-realization as he pushed the steel door open.

Shikkon sat in the driver’s seat of a dark blue two door electric compact. The engine was barely audible, and he looked slightly impatient. Mr. Popular climbed in the passenger seat and looked forward. The car peeled away into the midst of traffic on another misty Seattle night.

The two men arrived at Betty’s place thirty minutes later. The car ride had been one of utter silence. Shikkon had focused all his attention on driving and getting to Betty’s place quickly. Mr. Popular sat contemplating events past, present, and what the future held. Shikkon parked the car two blocks away around a corner. Jozu noticed that Shikkon seemed more cautious, and stealthy even with the added gear or more so because of it. They darted in and out of darkened alleyways to get to Betty’s apartment. Shikkon hesitated at the end of the alley next to the front of the apartment building. He took note of everything across the street. As he moved out into the open, he casually took in both directions of the sidewalk. Shikkon entered the apartment building with Mr. Popular just studying him.

This was not the Shikkon Shin that he knew. He had spent several years with this man, and standing in front of him buzzing Betty’s apartment, was a wholly different and unsettling Shikkon Shin. His demeanor was serious, straight forward, and stealthy. The man he knew was reserved, quiet, and introspective. Then a realization came to him. He had never really noticed Shikkon before. He had always been subdued whenever around Mr. Popular, occasionally, offering advice. It then dawned on Mr. Popular that Shikkon always seemed to slip in and out of sight, even when in his service. It was then, as they entered the apartment building, that Jozu noticed that Shikkon was no longer the ‘whipping boy’ he had always thought of him.

His thoughts continued as the ascended the staircase to the second floor, from the lobby. Where this new characterization of Shikkon, would take their relationship, was beyond Jozu at the present moment. His feeling of indignation was quietly and quickly residing, being replaced by a sense of wonder. Jozu had always respected him as ‘family’, but he had been the superior to Shikkon.

They reached the second floor and turned around the banister to reach Betty’s apartment door. Shikkon was surveying the immediate area again, taking in the rest of the hallway, the number of apartment doors, and the stairs that were concealed from sight. Jozu had to concede to the feeling of mutual respect for Shikkon Shin.

It was Betty who answered the door. A smile stretched across her gentle face, the small tusks poking just beyond her lower lip. “Greetings, friends, we were just about to start investigating our rewards.” She said with a manner of enthusiasm. Shikkon nodded, and walked in, “Thank you for waiting for us, I apologize to you all for the delay.” His manner was humble but still serious.

As Jozu entered the living room, he saw almost everyone there. Around a small glass table, a loveseat sat vertically to his left, a sofa faced the front door, and a basic recliner was facing the adjacent the table to his right. Mickey was huddled in the corner, seemingly muttering to himself. The Gate was sitting in the recliner staring intently at the bag lying on the table. His right leg crossed on top of his left, his hands folded at the fingers directly in front of his lips. He looked deep in thought and not unlike their employer. Entertainment was sprawled on the sofa, she seemed far too relaxed given the situation, her outfit colorful as always. She too was more preoccupied by the bag, than by the newcomers. Betty moved to the sofa sitting down, putting her legs over Entertainment’s body. They displayed a level of comfort with one another that no one else in the room seemed to share. Shikkon followed, but sat in the middle of loveseat, focusing his attention on the bag. Jozu stood only for a minute taking in the scene, but moved to the open side of the table and sat on the floor. Shikkon glanced over at The Gate. It seemed, to Jozu, that he had positioned himself directly across from The Gate, and now some sort of chess match might begin.

The others still held their gaze on the bag. The Gate suddenly moved from his statue like posture, moving forward he grabbed the bag, and dumped its contents onto the table. Jozu and Shikkon were surprised to see five black boxes tumble out onto the table, instead of the supposed one.

“It seems, we have a new situation,” The Gate spoke, his voice grave. “Our employer told of us of one box, but we have five boxes.” His gaze glanced from person to person as he spoke, save Mickey. “First, we’re unsure which box is the one they want. Second, we don’t know what’s in these boxes or what we’re looking for.” He paused looking around. “My suggestion is that we investigate each box carefully, and cautiously. There is no telling what they contain, and we wouldn’t want to ‘anger’ our employer.” He sat back, glancing about.

They each looked about at one another. After a few minutes of silence, Shikkon spoke, “I agree with The Gate, we should use caution, but we also need to know what we’re dealing with. Or more accurately what we’re supposed to be delivering.” The Gate gave a slight nod, and the others just silently nodded. Entertainment suddenly reached forward, not to be one outdone, and took one of the boxes into her hands to inspect it. It was one of the smaller boxes. She brought the box to her head and rattled it, as if inspecting a Christmas gift. The others, half waiting half watching with their breath held.

Eventually she found a small slit running along one of the edges, and realized that the ‘top’ could slide off. She examined the contents of the box; the rest of the group watched her movements. “It’s just a pair of gloves?” Entertainment’s voice was confused and disappointed. As she showed them to the rest of the group, she slid them on, and noticed the extra padding on the knuckles. “Hmmm,” she said, “Seem like hardliner gloves. If no one objects I could use a pair.” She said slyly and grinning at the thought.

The others just seemed to shrug, and The Gate grabbed one of the smaller boxes, he felt safe touching the boxes with his gloves on. He slid the top off and looked inside, a simple crystal jewel laid inside. He set the box on the table to allow the others to look inside, and continued to investigate the boxes. Entertainment seemed more content with her ‘new found’ gloves than the other boxes. If only she knew what they really were, The Gate chuckled to himself.

The jewel made its way around the circle, each person inspecting it with care. The Gate had dismissed the crystal as nothing more than a rock. Betty seemed only momentarily interested, but handed the crystal to Entertainment. She gave it a once over, and pocketed it into a small pack, that she had worn as a backpack. No one seemed to pay her any mind. Instead they focused on The Gate, as he was investigating each box. Entertainment set the pack down at her feet, re-focusing her attention to the other boxes and the rest of the group.

The Gate opened another small sized box, and found a folded piece of fabric. He took it out and un-folded it to examine it. It unfolded to reveal a body suit. He gave it a once over, and noticed it was a set of form fitting body armor. Shikkon and Entertainment agreed, so far nothing seemed substantial enough for the hiring of their services. The next box The Gate opened contained a low level spell focus. He showed it to the group, but like Entertainment commented on the desire to keep this object.

It was the last box that troubled them. It was by far the largest and seemed at least double in size. It was nearly a foot long, and almost half that in width. The Gate slid off the top, and peered inside. The item removed was most certainly the object of Ares’ desire. The Gate examined the strange phallic item. It was about six inches in length. Markings ran along the body and appeared to be wrapped in assorted papers. Each end sprouted some sort of hair, and in the middle was the engraving of a face. At least that’s what The Gate thought. He thought it looked less like a human face, and more like a dog. 

Jozu was still glancing around and the first to notice The Gate’s concerned look. If he is capable of such a look, thought Jozu. Shikkon was the next to notice the strange object being held by The Gate. Followed by Betty, then Entertainment, and lastly Mickey looked up. Mickey had noticed the quiet that had overtaken the room. He was curious what had perturbed their attention to shut them all up for five seconds. Glancing over at the small gathering, he noticed that everyone’s attention was on The Gate.

“It appears we have the object our employer lost,” The Gate spoke as he began putting away the foreign item. “What is that?” said Shikkon, his cool exterior fading to one of curiosity. The others listened intently to The Gate. Mickey began to move closer to the circle. “I’m not sure, but it is something intricately magical. Possibly shamanic in design, but I’m not sure.” The Gate continued his voice distant.

Mickey now sat at the edge of the group, in between The Gate and the sofa with Entertainment and Betty sitting on it. Shikkon sat back into the loveseat, looking deep in thought. Mr. Popular eased back into the floor, glancing down at strange object. The Gate caught Mickey out of the corner of his eye. “Nice of you to join us, oh mighty one,” A grin spread across The Gate’s face as he spoke. “Here, this might be of some use to you,” The Gate spoke simply, tossing the body armor to Mickey.

Before Mickey could react the body armor landed on his head, and flopped down. The black fabric blocked his view. Mickey barely registered the searing pain that now coursed through his body. He began to speak the words of bodily harm and confusion from an invisible assailant. The words formed in his mind, but never escaped his lips. It was as if his entire body was engulfed in flame. He fell to the floor, screaming, and writhing. His flesh seemed to tear itself apart, his senses barely able to record the sensation. He looked on, in horror, as this seemingly inanimate object clawed its way over his body. His clothes did nothing to assuage the pain, or stop the terrible sensation that was ripping through his internal organs.

Shikkon was the first to notice Mickey’s terrifying reaction. He had barely taken notice when The Gate tossed Mickey the armor. Instead he was immersed with thoughts of his own. He had noticed Mickey’s seizing body on the floor, and recoiled farther away into the love seat. A unsettling fear took hold of Shikkon as he saw the fabric crawling over Mickey’s body.

Entertainment caught Mickey falling backward to the floor out of the corner of her eye, but paid little attention to it. It was when Shikkon twitched back onto the love seat, that she looked closer, and saw the dread on Mickey’s face. His face was contorted as if screaming but she found him inaudible.

The others turned to look at Mickey shaking on the floor, and stepped back. The Gate was the only one that seemed interested in Mickey’s new condition, and watched on. He saw what the others couldn’t, the blue energy that violently ravaged Mickey’s destroyed mundane soul. He saw the truth of the magical fabric that was grafting itself to Mickey. His inner self felt a measure of pity for Mickey. For The Gate knew that Mickey was now and forever changed for better or worse.

The group continued to watch as Mickey was completely enveloped in darkness. They could no longer see Mickey, but instead a blackish mass. The form stopped moving, and the others looked around at one another. The Gate continued to stare blankly at Mickey. “Is he dead?” Entertainment had to feign a serious demeanor. “No, he’s just unconscious, or at least I assume he’s unconscious.” The Gate replied his voice distant and almost hesitant. The blackened mass continued to lie slumped on the ground.

“What do you mean, ‘you assume he’s unconscious’,” Entertainment looked at The Gate. It seemed to the others, that disappointment was in her voice. The Gate just ignored her, “He’s been; how do I put this? He’s been fused with the armor. It was some sort of magical device; I would think that much would be obvious. As for what it actually does, I haven’t a clue, and have never heard or seen of something like this.” The Gate spoke distantly in thought.

Slowly, the ‘living’ fabric began to saturate itself into Mickey’s body and clothing. First his strange hair appeared. Then his clothes took definition, and finally his pale taught skin. Despite being uncovered from darkness, Mickey remained motionless, his sullen eyes closed. “You’re right Gate, he’s breathing, although slow and sporadic,” Shikkon’s voice matter of fact. The others noticed Mickey’s chest slowly heaving up and down. 

“What is our plan, now? Mickey is unconscious with some magical ‘thing’ attached to him. Popular is on the news, Entertainment is known by the media, but her secrets remain safe for now.” Shikkon spoke turning his attentions to The Gate.

“I’ve been mulling it over, while we’ve been sitting here.” The Gate’s manner was shifting back to business at hand. “We’ve got a drop to do. No matter the state of parts of this group.” His hands clasped, his elbows on his knees as he sat forward addressing the group. “My suggestion is we try to revive Mickey, and wait for him to come around. At the very least, it might be best to keep him closer to us, and we can use his talents of ‘sight’.” The Gate’s voice was focused and cool. The Gate stood up from his chair and despite his smaller stature he held an aura of authority. “I’m open to suggestions,” His voice didn’t change as he moved towards Mickey.

As The Gate bent down next to Mickey he pulled out a small patch from a small medical kit on his belt. He placed the patch on Mickey’s bare neck, and grabbed a hold of Mickey’s arm. At once Mickey’s tired eyes shot open. He abruptly sat up, glancing around. Seeing The Gate holding onto his arm, and kneeling in front of him, his suspicions immediately ran rampant. “What did you do to me!” Mickey’s voice quavered with paranoia as he shrank back against the wall, his eyes wild.

Entertainment looked around the corned of the sofa, “Dude, calm down. The kid just saved your life.” Her voice was nonchalant. The others gave her a quick look, but turned their attentions towards Mickey. The Gate never brought his focus off of Mickey. He just looked at Mickey, gradually nodded, and stood back up. “He’s fine,” The Gate said coolly, and cracked his neck. “Where were we?” The Gate spoke as he stood behind the chair.

Entertainment got up from the sofa and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m going to call Requiem he did say to give him a call once we got the lost item.” The Gate nodded. “Once she gets back and gets a response, we move out.” The Gate still assumed authority over the rest of them. Mr. Popular sat in disbelief. He now felt the tiniest ounce of respect for The Gate. His apparent physical age melted away to reveal someone mature beyond their years. Every action and word he took, he seemed in utter command. The leadership of the group had seemingly faulted to The Gate, in Falchion’s mysterious absence.

Entertainment stood impatiently in the kitchen. She had been trying to reach Falchion for a few days, and had not had any luck. She felt that after the first job, they had developed a small bond. That she was, at least in his mind, better than the others. Again with no response, she set upon her other task of contacting Requiem. After a couple of rings, Requiem’s cold and unfeeling voice answered.

Entertainment came back into the living room, from her lapse in the kitchen. She relayed the short conversation she had with Requiem. “He wants us to drop off the box at a subsidiary of his office, tonight in only a couple of hours.” Her demeanor displayed discomfort, but her voice was calm.

Shikkon seeing the momentary indecisions of the group, sat forward and spoke his voice was hushed, “I have a suggestion. I know of another party who wishes our audience. They only want a meet with us, and have a business proposition to offer us.” Up to this point no one had really noticed Shikkon’s reactions, after he had ‘jumped’ back. He had sat listening carefully to everything The Gate said, and paid careful attention to Mickey.

Mr. Popular seemed more shocked than wary at his words. The Gate eyed Shikkon determining an ulterior motive. Mickey sat huddled his back to the wall rocking back and forth, oblivious to the world. Betty looked doe-eyed at Shikkon, then to the others waiting for their reactions. Entertainment quirked her right brow, a smirk grew on her mischievous face. “I’m down, just a meet? Let’s see what Shikkon’s mysterious ‘friend’ has to offer,” her voice lightened as she moved towards the door. Hearing Entertainment’s opinion, Betty stood up from the sofa, and moved in tacit consent. Mr. Popular looked at Shikkon quizzically, but nodded and stood up. The Gate despite hesitation, nudged Mickey with his foot.

“We’re going to need your eyes, Mickey. Are you up to keeping watch?” The Gate’s voice was on borderline concern. Mickey’s eyes dragged his head upward as he looked at The Gate. Emptiness now seemed to fill them. “I am, although I’ll need a rifle.” Mickey’s voice was dry, the paranoia ever present. Mickey gradually rose from the floor, his movements, if The Gate could place it, twitchy.

The Gate allowed Mickey to pass in front of him to the door. Before exiting the door, The Gate picked up the largest box, containing the strange focus, and tucked it under his arm. Betty awaited the last two, to close and lock the door. Once in the hallway Mickey strolled past Shikkon who was standing up against the wall. The Gate turned to Shikkon, “We’re going to go ahead with your suggestion, but I’m going to get Mickey’s ‘eyes’ first. We’ve got time restraints, so go ahead, and I’ll meet you there.” Shikkon nodded, turned and headed downstairs.

Once downstairs The Gate found Entertainment sitting on the steps with Mr. Popular. The two of them were oddly discussing some prior conversation. The Gate found Mickey’s lanky frame standing next to Popular and Entertainment, leaning up against the stair wall. “Mickey, I can get you what you want, but it’ll cost 14k,” The Gate’s voice was hushed now that they were out in the open. Despite the time, and the seemingly quiet stretch of road they were on. Mickey grudgingly turned his head towards The Gate, “14? Fine,” his voice was depressed. He handed The Gate the small cylinder shaped tube that housed most of his money. The Gate took it swiftly, slotted it into his small credstick reader discreetly, and transferred the exact amount. He handed the pen sized tube back to Mickey, “I’ve already spoken to Shikkon,” he continued focusing more on the group, his voice was still hushed. “I’m meeting you all there, stay close, and don’t move until I arrive.” The Gate had almost added a please, but felt it too unprofessional.

The group once again set about its different ways, with a similar destination in mind. The Gate was headed to a locker, which he kept for private uses, the same locker that held Mickey’s prized weapon. He climbed aboard his sturdy sports bike, and hid the box into the compartment under his seat and locked it.

Betty and Entertainment headed to her Harley, and rode ahead to the directions given to her by Shikkon. Shikkon, followed quietly by Mr. Popular and Mickey, climbed into his dark-blue four-door compact and headed another direction. Despite heading to the same destination as Betty’s chopper, Shikkon moved for illusion and discretion.

Betty and Entertainment were the first to arrive. Betty had parked her chopper around the corner about three blocks away. They sat at Betty’s chopper just inconspicuously talking, awaiting for the go ahead. After ten minutes of waiting, Shikkon called Entertainment. “We’re here, but don’t move yet. A large gathering of people in this area will be suspicious, and may draw attention. Just go for a short walk around.” Shikkon’s voice seemed cautious and quiet. “Um, don’t you think two women just randomly walking around, will draw unwanted attention? If we’re together at least people will think less of it.” Entertainment said, as she motioned to Betty for them to start moving. Shikkon sighed and responded, “Fine, we’re about a block away from the meet point, call us when you get close,” and with that he hung up. “Come on B, let’s go meet our dates,” Entertainment’s voice was serious, but sarcastic. Betty glanced at Entertainment as the two companions walked toward Shikkon’s hidden meeting.

They reached the street where Shikkon had told them the building was located. Standing on the left side of the street, they glanced around the corner of the building next to them, and looked up the street to their right. If not for the cars parked on the street they would have thought this section of the city was devoid of life.

Even as it was, it was still desolate and gave this eerie feeling of isolation. As they turned the corner, Entertainment began to realize that they weren’t very far from the Ares’ drop point. That’s odd, she thought to herself, and too convenient. They turned left, staying on the sidewalk, and neared the building. Entertainment’s thoughts and focus returned to their new target.

A three-story and derelict warehouse stood across the street from them as they walked. Occasionally they took glances at the building, noticing that it resembled a house out of an old nursery rhyme. Entertainment took out her pocket secretary and placed a small listening device in her ear. She dialed Shikkon, and after the third ring he answered. “We’re near you, where are you?” she said in a quiet voice. Shikkon responded, “We’re in an alleyway about a block north of the building.” Entertainment hung up the phone call, and continued walking down the street.

They found the alleyway, and ducked into as stealthily as they could. Peering a little further into the darkness of the alley they saw, Mr. Popular. He was looking around a dumpster on their right, partially obscuring him. They moved quickly and quietly to him, giving him a partial nod as they found cover. 

Mr. Popular had watched Mickey vanish into the back part of the alley that seemed to go for three blocks without break. Shikkon had stood with him, but after the last phone call from Entertainment, he too had melded into the shadows. After a minute Jozu saw the figures of Black Betty and Entertainment, he moved just enough to catch their attention as they moved into the alleyway. The two women moved into position near him and found light cover from random trash. And now we wait, Jozu thought anxiously to himself.  

Note: Credsticks are common currency in Shadowrun. They act as identity, and bank accounts all rolled into one convenient package. Similar to a present day credit card, with added security and a bit too much information on them.