Recovery
The Gate pulled his street bike into a small secluded alley near
Betty’s apartment. He mused to himself that Seattle seemed to have an endless
supply of darkened alleyways. Climbing off his bike, The Gate cautiously looked
around, realizing he had been careless getting off the street. The adrenaline
of the situation had allowed him to haul Mickey out of harm’s way, but less
than cautious.
Things weren’t adding up to The Gate about
the whole situation, but more pressing matters were making it hard to
concentrate. He wanted to get away into some quiet space so he could focus, and
hopefully formulate something resembling a plan. Things were very quickly
getting out of hand, and The Gate didn’t like his jobs going poorly, either by
his hand or by others. Which seemed to be the case at nearly every turn for him
this time; if it wasn’t one thing, it was another screaming failure in his
face.
Shaking the pessimistic thoughts out of his
mind he brought his attention to Mickey. Taking a small patch out of his
medkit, he slapped it on Mickey’s neck and waited for him to wake back up. The
Gate was surprised by how quickly Mickey sat up, looking wild eyed and
confused. “What happened?” Mickey asked his eyes squinting trying to regain
clarity. “I don’t know,” The Gate responded vaguely and distantly shaking his
head. Mickey looked at The Gate for a better answer, but The Gate seemed less
forthcoming than usual.
“What do you mean you don’t know; weren’t
you there, and conscious?” Mickey’s tone of voice was shifting to anger. “Yes,
but-I-don’t-know.” The Gate looked up at Mickey from his daze in a serious
tone. Mickey’s frustration continued as he sighed, “Fantastic, well maybe you
can tell me what went on in the meeting then?”
The Gate glanced over at Mickey, and felt unsure
as how to answer it. He decided that the truth might be best for Mickey to
hear, for once, but Mickey began speaking before him. “We should get out of the
open and inside to somewhere safe.” Mickey was glancing all around and more
fidgety than The Gate had ever seen him. The Gate raised a brow in Mickey’s
direction, but conceded that it might be a better idea than staying in the dark
and secluded alley.
The
Gate locked his bike, and Mickey stealthily walked to the corner of the street
and alley. The Gate looked around flicking his perceptions as he did. The
strangest thing he noticed was that he barely recognized Mickey’s astral
signature. The appearance was molded, and the swirling mass of color he had
associated with Mickey’s signature was somehow different in their movements and
even the color was marginally different. The Gate had barely noticed the
differences, but after a second glance he saw that Mickey’s astral appearance had
taken on an almost new persona. Blinking his eyes and vision back to the
mundane, The Gate made a small snap of his fingers and vanished from sight
after Mickey began to move forward.
“I
hope you realize I don’t know where we are.” Mickey said hushed to the air
around him. He knew The Gate was right around him, but was accustomed to his
co-workers being invisible to his sight. The soft hushed voice of The Gate came
from behind him, “We’re right down the street from Betty’s place, just keep
going straight and we’ll be right there.” Mickey wasn’t the least bit surprised
by The Gate trailing closely behind him. Mickey now felt oddly comfortable with
The Gate being behind him and invisible. Was
it his brush with near death in the middle of the street? Mickey could not
be sure, but his thoughts raced.
The one block they had to walk
to get to Black Betty’s apartment consisted of careful observations of their
surroundings and a slow pace. So the short walk was much farther than it needed
to be, but both of them were being particularly careful after the evening’s
near-disaster. Reaching Betty’s apartment building, Mickey slid into the
shadows next to the stairs, and The Gate walked to the door. The Gate smiled at
the procedure they had just accomplished, by some unseen and unusual force.
Mickey had slipped out of sight, and The Gate being invisible would be the one
to announce their arrival. In case someone was watching, he wanted to applaud
Mickey, but would save that for later judgment.
After a few moments they were standing outside of
Betty’s second floor apartment waiting in the hallway awkwardly. A boy, looking
the part of a young business professional, and a gruff gangly strung out man
with a briefcase. To anyone seeing them standing in the hallway they would have
been reminded of the many variations of odd couples, and it may have generated
many unwanted questions.
The door opened and they were greeted by Betty’s
smiling subdued presence. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, “The gang’s all here,
and we were just waiting for you two.”
Mickey and The Gate walked into the room and saw
that everyone was sitting in the living room where they had been only a few
hours prior. The Gate yawned, but quickly shook it off. He didn’t really care
for late nights, preferring to get his work done earlier in the evening, but sometimes
things couldn’t be helped.
Betty saw The Gate yawn and offered him some soycaf,
which he politely declined. “I just need a few minutes to gather my thoughts
and I’ll be okay.” He said kindly to the older Ork woman, but to him everyone
was older and she was actually the second youngest person in the room.
The Gate’s brow furrowed slightly as he spoke
looking around the room, “I see that Entertainment and Falchion aren’t here?”
Finishing his question on Betty, she looked somewhat confused but quickly
recovered. “Oh they’re in the bedroom, Falchion’s still unconscious and
Entertainment wanted to make sure he was okay.” The Gate nodded, and excused
himself from the room to personally investigate Falchion’s condition. As The
Gate made his way to the bedroom, the others continued a previous conversation
about life in the Yakuza.
The light streamed into the bedroom, and The Gate
could hear some light sniffling come from the bed and saw Entertainment hunched
over bed. She looked over at The Gate and he could tell she had been crying.
The Gate began to ask her a question, but she returned to staring at Falchion ignoring
him.
He thought it slightly odd that they had left most
of his gear on. They had only removed the hood and enhanced optic goggles and
set them on the bedside table. It was strange to see an unconscious man lying
on a bed strapped with various belts, buckles, and pouches.
“I’m not sure what is wrong with him, but I’m going
to give it a shot to heal him if I can. If my intuition isn’t incorrect we’re
going to need all the help we can get and he would be a major asset.” The Gate
said looking at Entertainment for some sign of information about Falchion’s
condition, but received a blank stare as she nodded dumbly. The Gate moved over
to the opposite side of the bed, and wondered if Entertainment had yet to fall
out of the spell that she had been in early.
The Gate decided to ignore her, and focus on Falchion.
They were on limited time and he needed to move quickly. Stretching out his
gloved hands over Falchion’s body and like an ancient mystic spoke under his
breath in a language that Entertainment barely recognized as Elvish. The Gate
placed his hands on Falchion and a light glow emitted from the gloves. Seconds
passed and Falchion still lie, his breathing the only noticeable sound in the
room. Entertainment began to speak to ask The Gate what he had done when Falchion
rose from the bed slowly.
“Ow.” Was all that Falchion said staring blankly at
the bed, Entertainment lunged over onto the bed and gave Falchion a large hug,
rousing him from his waking daze. “How long was I out for?” Falchion managed to
squeeze out of the hug that Entertainment was giving him. He gave her a pat on
the back and they broke the embrace to her smiling.
“A couple of hours from you fighting that guy in the
street.” The Gate spoke seriously. “Good I was worried that I had been out
longer.” Falchion looked up from the bed to each of them. “That guy hit me like
a Banshee.” Falchion said smiling. Falchion sprang out of bed and began looking
around the room. “We might be in trouble.” His voice was calm, but his face
looked worried.
“Where are my things?” Falchion said coming back to
a friendly calm state; the momentary worry seemed to vanish. Entertainment
scrambled quickly at his question, “I’ve got them all over here, Falchion.” She
said with a smile picking up his various blades and offering them to him. “Thank
you Entertainment,” after a momentary pause and partially blank stare, “We’ve
got to get the others.” His face fell back into a serious calm.
“They’re in the other room, Falchion.” The Gate said
calmly. “I think we might be on borrowed time at the moment,” The Gate added
gravely. “I didn’t catch anyone following us, but I can’t shake the feeling
that someone followed us here. Not to mention Mickey was more twitchy than
normal, and I think you might want to take a look at him.” The Gate tapped his
temple as he rose from his chair. Falchion nodded slowly as he finished returning
his blades to their various holsters. The bedroom door opened slowly and The
Gate was the first to exit with Falchion and Entertainment following close
behind him. The conversation in the living room had ended when the door creaked
open. Black Betty was the first to rise from her chair and offer the newly
awoken guest a drink. “No, thank you Betty,” Falchion said gently, and glanced
around the room. Shikkon and Popular were sitting on the larger sofa closest to
the windows staring suspiciously at him.
Mickey was sitting cross legged on the floor closest
to the door, and he looked very fidgety. Falchion took the momentary silence to
look at Mickey more closely studying his astral signature as his eyes rolled
upward. His eyes rolled back down and he made eye contact first with The Gate.
Falchion made a small gesture of confusion, and did little to abate The Gate’s
concerns about Mickey. Falchion concerned, turned to Mickey and asked him how
he was feeling. Mickey looked confused and suspicious, but told Falchion he was
feeling fine. While both astral perceivers knew Mickey feeling okay could be a
good sign, it was the change in his astral signature and its possible implications
that concerned them the most.
“So what was that all about, Falchion?” Mr. Popular
was the first to step up and break the silence. “What was what all about?”
Falchion asked sincerely. He looked confused about the nature of the question,
and hoped that they weren’t going to pry too deeply into his disappearance. “You
and that shirtless guy in the street, that’s not something you see every day.”
Mr. Popular seemed to be asking what most everyone else was thinking, and
Falchion knew that he wouldn’t able to keep the most obvious things from the
group. “He is just one of the more dangerous people after some of the same
stuff we are.” Falchion said matter-of-factly looking around the room from face
to face.
Individually each of the other members fell into a
thought. Contemplating what that meant for the group. This hit each of them
hard with the realization that more than one faction was after the same item they
were. When you went out on a Shadowrun you expect it, but it’s never the same
as actually hearing someone tell you that others are gunning for you. Always
manages to put a lump in the throat of even the most veteran of runners.
Mickey seemed to be more nonchalant about the news.
Instead his attentions were focused elsewhere, as if he was listening for
something elsewhere in the distance. Falchion noticed Mickey’s strange
expression asked, “You okay, Mickey?” Mickey who looked up slightly startled
stared at Falchion blankly, and eventually nodded. Falchion’s eyes squinted,
and after a moment he spoke, “We need a plan, we’re limited on time. We’ve got
two more objectives to complete, and people are now hunting us. Not a positive
situation, but do we have any leads on the other two objectives?”
The others glanced from one another and eventually
everyone looked over at The Gate. The Gate sighed before addressing Falchion,
“No, and we have other troubles besides being wanted for current possessions.”
Falchion nodded as if he already knew what The Gate was going to say, which
seemed to confuse only The Gate.
“Well we can’t fully worry about those things now,
and will have to face them at a later junction. I think for now we are safe
from LoneStar, as for anything else I am unsure.” Falchion said to the surprise
of the others. They began to wonder what he had been doing in his absence.
Other than showing up at the exact spot they were, without them telling him,
fighting some shirtless samurai. Why was
he following them, or having them followed? Falchion quickly changed topics
as he saw questions forming in their eyes.
“I think we should focus on finding this Byte
character next. Then go after Mad Camel. Betty, this is why I brought you on.
Byte is a street name for a high profile decker. I don’t know why Ares wants
him out of the picture, but if we can find that out it would greatly help us.
Also I have a feeling you’re going to be the only one able to really find him.”
Falchion finished with Betty looking rather serious and nodding.
“I’ve already done some light digging on him, and
I’ve found several recent posts throughout the net by someone going by Byte. I
can’t confirm whether it is actually him, but it seems pertinent that he’s
talking about Ares in most of the posts. He’s taunting them, and us it would
seem. So I think it’s safe to assume it’s him.” Everyone focused in on Betty as
she spoke.
“I also did some research into Ares and possible
connections, and found that six months ago they fired a research team that was
developing some prototype deck for them. Only two of the original five people
working on the prototype are alive.” Entertainment broke in with sarcasm,
“There’s a surprise.” Betty looked over to her and nodded, “I’ve got their
names, and addresses although if one of them is Byte then it’s safe to assume
that it’s a false name and address. One of them is Christian Blatche who has
two registered addresses. Neither one is very far from here. The other name I found
is Benjamin Johnson, which is such a bland name that it could be his cover. It
would also coincide with the posts that Byte has been leaving on the Matrix.
The posts have been originating from a shopping mall in Everett
Entertainment jumped in again, “Well what are we
waiting for lets go get the fragger. If Ares wants him out of the way for some
prototype thingie let’s go get him out of the way.” Fire flashed in her eyes as
she spoke, she was getting impatient and wanted to get this whole debacle over
with and be done with working with the others.
“Well before we do that, Entertainment, it would
make sense to check up on the address closest to us. If Byte is the decker I’ve
heard him to be, then it would make sense that the posts coming from Everett
“Exactly,” Betty interjected, “I agree with Falchion,
that while I investigate the posts more thoroughly, and Byte on the Matrix. The
rest of you can investigate the addresses I’ve found. If everything goes our
way we should be done with Byte in no time, and maybe we can go get Mad Camel
before noontime tomorrow.” Betty smiled optimistically as she looked around the
room at the grim faces of her teammates.
“Well then it’s decided,” Falchion said clearing his
throat, “Betty will stay here and investigate further into the posts. The rest
of us will venture out to check up with these addresses, Betty will you be okay
here by yourself?” Betty nodded her grin continued on her face as she felt
purely optimistic about the upcoming events that were to take place.
The Gate cracked his neck, “I’ve got some contacts
that I want to check in with. I’ve had some people checking into Mad Camel, and
I want to find out what they’ve got. Plus I’ve got some gear coming in, I’ll
check back in with you guys after I’ve finished, if it’s good with the group?”
It was less of a request and more of a statement, but the others nodded and
agreed that they would check back in after investigating. Mickey was the only
one to not agree to The Gate and began eyeing him.
Mickey had been focused entirely on some apparently inaudible
noise that only he could hear, his head had been ringing nearly the entire time
they had been talking in the living room. It had felt similar to being on the
rooftop at the meeting from earlier, but he was trying to pinpoint it instead
of just panicking like he had before.
On cue Falchion, Shikkon Shin, and Mickey the Quail
were the first to react to the whirring noise just outside of Betty’s apartment
door. Shikkon moved over the loveseat grabbing Mr. Popular in one blurred
motion. Mickey flew to the floor, sliding completely under the table in the
middle of the living room. Falchion moved with the inhuman speed that was
beginning to be expected of him, as he grabbed both Entertainment and The Gate
to the floor. Had it not been for the newly aquired outfit that Mickey was
wearing he wouldn’t have moved and would have had the same fate as the door.
The familiar whir was followed by a hail of bullets
ripping through the door and wall as a rotating mini-gun lit up the hallway.
Most everyone thought back to the street fight they had just walked away from,
and wondered how they could have followed them to Betty’s apartment after being
attacked by the shirtless samurai.
“Move!” Was all that Falchion screamed under the
hail of bullets. Those that could vanish took no time in doing so and opened
one of the windows leading out of Betty’s apartment into an alleyway. Shikkon
feeling no sense of duty to Mr. Popular leapt out of the building with stealth
and skill, followed by Entertainment, Falchion, and The Gate. The last of them
being the least graceful, but escape was filling his mind and not showmanship.
Black Betty paused at the window for a moment
despite the bullets filling her living room. “What are you two doing?!” She
screamed at Mickey and Mr. Popular. The two of them had taken up positions in
the apartment hiding behind a flipped table and in the kitchen. Neither of them
responded, instead focusing their attention on the front door as the bullets
ceased and the whir died down. Rolling her eyes and sighing Black Betty left
her apartment to a firefight she wanted no part of.
The apartment was fairly well lit despite the
extensive damage that had been brought upon it. Mickey sat with his back to the
door, hiding under the cover of the living room table, and had his Slivergun
cocked and ready. He would have preferred another weapon for the fight, but he
seemed to be having no luck at choosing his fights or weapons.
Mr. Popular hadn’t strayed too far from Mickey and
had given him the thumbs up on staying behind to fight. He had moved into the
kitchen and had his Predator aimed at the door, not knowing what to expect. He
had felt compelled to stay, besides being Mickey’s protector, he had missed the
firefight in the street and wanted to get some action. He thought that if he
could help Mickey get through this fight, it would raise his standing within
the group and possibly earn him some of his honor back.
The apartment
lie still and noiseless. Both Mickey and Mr. Popular strained their ears for
any indication of their opponent. No screams could be heard outside the
hole-filled door. The light from the hallway was the only thing streaming into
the now darkened apartment. Sweat formed on their brows as they waited for the
onslaught of bullets and whatever else might come flying through that door.
After a few minutes of waiting, and silence, they glanced at each other and
shrugged their shoulders in confusion.
Mickey took the initiative to peer around his cover
to get a better vantage point on the door. Mr. Popular aimed his Predator
towards the door with careful precision trying to give cover fire when needed.
Mickey slowly crawled on his stomach out from behind the flipped table and
began moving around the destroyed chair. He was being careful not to move to
suddenly and draw fire from outside the apartment, and to be not too far from
cover if the gunfire did resume.
Another minute passed as Mickey crawled like a snake
towards the door stopping short as he neared the wall. Slowly creeping up to a
bullet hole, Mickey peered out through the hole seeing only an empty hallway.
He turned his back to the wall and pressed against it kneeling with his gun
held upward. Mickey knew they were at a disadvantage being inside the apartment
with little to no knowledge of their opponents on the other side of the door.
He took his time and examined only a few more holes
when he spotted a rather disgusting looking Ork with a large rotating machine
gun and several grenades strapped about him. Quickly ducking down Mickey looked
towards Mr. Popular’s direction trying to give him a signal, which was not
fully understood to Mickey’s dismay.
Mickey’s eyes widened in horror as Mr. Popular
raised his gun towards the spot next to the door where Mickey was. Before
Mickey could wave him to stop Mr. Popular was firing several rounds into the
wall and door leaving Mickey covering himself on the floor.
Mickey wasted no time in scrambling back behind the
cover of the furniture. To him they left little to the imagination in
protection, but gave him the hope of being missed by the multiple bullets that
would once again fill the apartment.
To Mickey’s
surprise a gruff voice came through the door instead of bullets. “Hah! So it’s
a fight you want Charlie?! Well then you’re my kind of chummer.” Mickey and Mr.
Popular looked at each other confused, but aimed their guns at the door again.
They were obviously facing someone who wasn’t altogether in the head, but then
nobody was really mentally altogether in the Shadows. They sat waiting for the
Ork to come busting through the door, but nothing came; only more silence.
Mickey saw it before Mr. Popular, the door slowly
creeping open. It wasn’t until the door had moved far enough to make a creak
that Mr. Popular noticed it. They waited patiently for the right moment when
they would have a clean shot on their foe. The moment never came as a wrinkled
and warty hand flicked an oval object into the living room. Mickey’s eyes grew
large yet again. The foolish Ork had thrown a grenade into the apartment.
Mickey knew that they had little time to act. Hoping
that Mr. Popular would follow his lead he began firing several shots into the
door. Mickey was hoping that this would distract the Ork. Quickly moving while
firing he found and grabbed the grenade. Taking little time to set himself he
launched the grenade through the slight opening in the door. He began to scream
something at Mr. Popular, but the deafening explosion of the grenade drowned
him out. Mickey had just managed to take cover in time to avoid being knocked
to the ground. The grenade destroyed what was left of the apartment wall, and
Mickey saw this as a good opportunity to retreat.
Moving to the window, he kept an eye on the
destroyed wall and hallway. Mr. Popular didn’t need to be told twice, he wanted
to see a little combat, but grenades were another matter. Mickey was already
out the window and making his way to the alley below. As Mr. Popular climbed
into the window frame, he took one last look back at the apartment, and almost
felt sorry for Betty. He too had lost his apartment and knew what it felt like.
Despite the fact that she was an Ork, he felt a small shred of sympathy for
her.
Reaching the alley below with a thud, Mr. Popular
slowly stood up dusting himself off. He glanced around the alley for his
comrade, but didn’t see him. He felt a slight lump in his throat at the
immediate thought of being abandoned without any type of communication device.
Before his panic could fully take effect someone grabbed his collar from the
shadows and dragged him away. Quickly glancing behind him he saw that it was
Mickey, and took control of his walking. They walked for a few blocks keeping
to the shadows of the alleys, and stopped to hide as best they could. Hoping
that they wouldn’t be spotted, or that they attacker had been thrown off by the
explosion.
They didn’t have to wait long in the shadows of an
alley when Mickey’s pocket secretary began buzzing lightly. He pulled it out
carefully, so it wouldn’t illuminate their presence. Seeing the display screen
and the identity of the caller, he sighed. The Gate was calling him and on top
of everything else the kid was the last person that he wanted to talk too.
“I’m
glad to hear that you’re still alive.” The Gate’s voice grated on Mickey’s
nerves and this child’s attitude multiplied his annoyance ten fold. “Popular is
still with you?” Mickey thought The Gate’s concern was underwhelming and rolled
his eyes at the phone.
“Yes he is still with me, and alive. I’m
sure you’re very concerned.” Mickey’s voice was full of sarcasm to hide his
malice. Mr. Popular looked up only partially surprised at Mickey and his side
of the conversation.
“Mickey don’t be jealous of my prowess and youthful
good looks,” Mickey could hear the smile through the pocket secretary and
gritted his teeth. “There is a small pizza place not too far from Betty’s
apartment, but it’s public enough that we should be able to hide for the moment
and gather our thoughts.” The Gate was back to business as usual. He was
utterly polite in his speech, but commanded respect and obedience from Mickey.
Something he disliked to no end.
Mickey sighed, feeling that it was useless
to refuse The Gate. All he wanted at this point was to get back to his home, curl
up with his rifle, and take a long nap. Fortunately, and unfortunately, for him
no one else was about to go along with his plans.
“We’re waiting for you there now, it’s
called Joe’s Pizzeria,” The Gate brought Mickey out of his daydreaming
paradise. In his gloomy voice Mickey replied, “We’ll be there in a few.”
Mickey took a small device out of his coat
and linked it up to his secretary and looked at it. Mr. Popular sat silently
keeping an eye on the passing street less than a meter away from them. After a
few seconds of beeping Mickey put the electronic devices back into his coat and
tapped Mr. Popular on the shoulder.
“We’re supposed to meet them at a pizza place, about
three blocks from here.” Mickey said glumly to Mr. Popular. “I think if we stick
to the alleys we should be fine in getting there.” Mr. Popular nodded and
glanced back out at the street. Quietly giving the thumbs up to Mickey, they
began their short walk in and out of the subdued Seattle street.
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