Requiem's Run: Chapter Fifteen

Reliving the Past

     The Gate sat on his bike fiddling with his pocket secretary. He got several looks from people walking up and down the street as he sat there intently staring at the small device.

     He was trying to figure out what to do with the “gift” Mad Camel had given him. Part of him wanted to sell it, and be rid of it. And part of him wanted to give it to Requiem, hoping it would appease the Megacorp and their hounds off his back.

     It’s not that he hadn’t done anything he wasn’t supposed too. It was just little had gone right for him, while working with this group. He wanted to make sure to cover his tracks, because the others were expendable. Shadowrunners in a world where he could find a dozen others exactly like them, or better. The Gate certainly hoped for the latter in any future endeavors.

     He awoke out of his daydream to find himself sitting on his bike. He quickly glanced around to check his surroundings and hoped he hadn’t been sitting there long. It would attract even more unwanted attention. Quickly dismounting from his bike he walked over to an ornately decorated shop. It was full of antiques, and The Gate knew that hidden out back was a small shop of various magical toys. The man who ran the shop was from somewhere in the NAN, and he favored The Gate. They had developed a friendly business relationship, and the man always treated The Gate with respect. Something The Gate wasn’t used too from an adult.

     The Gate only knew him as Dark Bear, and The Gate had his suspicions that it had to do something with the man’s piercing features and his connection to the Bear totem. It was a side of magic that The Gate didn’t fully understand. He understood the idea of worshipping animals, but he wasn’t sure how they did what they did. So instead of trying to figure it out he accepted it as another function, another formula, for achieving the same result within the realm of magic.

     The Gate was always surprised when Dark Bear would converse with him about the hermetic side of magic. This was why The Gate always treated Dark Bear with the same amount of respect that he gave his old mentor, Drago. The Gate would sometimes show his adolescence with arrogance, and in return Dark Bear would gently scold him and in turn favor him as he would his own child.

Entering the store The Gate would always encounter the same greeting. Something he had originally despised, but realized it was Dark Bear’s way of teasing and covering their tracks. “Go away, we don’t serve children here!” The cranky aged voice of Dark Bear shouted across the store. The Gate took his cue to re-open the door, but duck further into the store hiding amongst the mundane antiques. Once the coast was clear Dark Bear would signal to him.

The Gate studied the antiques while hiding in wait for Dark Bear, and realized how much he enjoyed coming to the store. He didn’t understand why people appreciated these old objects, but he enjoyed the relationship shared with Dark Bear.

It was worth putting up with the musty mundane side of life. For every now and again escape to this tiny little store, and enjoy an aspect of magical life. It brought him back to his time with Drago, and how his mentor would occasionally chat with him on equal footing. Though the moments were rare, The Gate treasured each conversation.

He heard the click of the lock, and knew it was safe to come out. Dark Bear liked him to wait until the blinds were drawn, and the store was unofficially closed for a “lunch break”. Something The Gate understood, and respectfully waited despite the urge to jump out and tease the old man.

 “It is safe, Gate.” The Gate heard the grained voice of the old man come from the middle of the store. He had already moved towards the back of the store, and waited for the old man to join him.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Dark Bear.” The Gate was humbly polite with Dark Bear, and openly showed it on any occasion he could.

“It must be something good, for you to be so polite. Usually you are in a rush, my boy.” Dark Bear’s eye twinkled as he spoke. He was delighted with the life The Gate brought to his store. It brought back memories of a life more adventurous, and he in turn was able to pass on the wisdom of mistakes past.

“Well, I think it might be, I’m not exactly sure what it is and I wanted to check with you.” The Gate held his breath, he didn’t like keeping secrets from this man but it was often necessary to keep Dark Bear safe.

The Gate removed the elongated focus from a coat he had wrapped it in to hide it away from prying eyes. The old man gave it a long cautious look.

“Interesting, I’ve never seen anything like it before. It is of an unique magical presence. It masks itself, and acts as though mundane. Only occasionally showing any sign of magic.” The old man continued studying the strange focus and set it down in between them. “I dare say it’s impressive, who ever crafted it. Time and money on their side, it probably won’t fetch much on the market, but you could definitely use something like this. What it would do, I’m not sure. I would need a month or more studying it to figure it out.” The Gate looked at Dark Bear hesitantly. “I understand I probably won’t get a month to study it, but I’m giving you a time frame to work with.” Dark Bear continued sensing The Gate’s hesitance.

“Yes, I have to give this back to its ‘owner’. I just wanted to see if I could fetch a better price, or what it exactly was.” The Gate spoke carefully, he didn’t want to insult Dark Bear, but also didn’t want to give away too much information.

“I understand, no hard feelings,” Dark Bear said smiling at him, his eyes crinkled with brightness. The Gate wrapped the focus back into the coat, and stood to leave.

“You can’t stay for tea?” Dark Bear asked longingly looking at The Gate. He wished to hear tales from The Gate’s adventures.

“No, I’m on business, and have to get back.” The Gate was short and to the point. He knew what Dark Bear wanted, and knew it would take too long. Too long meant suspicions, and The Gate assumed that the group already was suspicious of him.

“Very well, you youngin’s have places to go, and people to see. Better for sure, than talking to an old man in his musty antique store.” Dark Bear grinned at The Gate who was stuttering, but rolling his eyes at the old man. It was Dark Bear’s way.

Shikkon peered through the eye hole of Mickey’s basement apartment. He let out a small sigh when seeing the grinning face of Entertainment and the laissez-faire attitude of his former employer, Mr. Popular. Unlocking the door, he nodded towards Mickey to ease up, and stepped to the side to let Entertainment and Mr. Popular into the small room.

Entertainment headed immediately to the futon couch and plopped herself down. There weren’t many places to sit in the small efficiency, but there were just enough for her needs. Mickey was huddled up in the far corner, away from the door, below the bed. Since his encounter with the body armor he had been even fonder of corners, and any opportunity of sitting usually found him sitting in one, somehow even further within the corner than would deem plausible.

Shikkon stood in the kitchen he didn’t care for all the waiting they had been doing. With the recent attack outside of one of his clan’s meeting places, he was even more uncomfortable.

Mr. Popular moved to sit on the bed, trying to be as comfortable as possible. He was glad it was only the four of them, had Falchion or the ork woman been there they would’ve been nearly hugging each other in the bedroom which also opted into a living room.

Shikkon trying to ease the waiting broke the ice, “What did you two find out?” Looking from Mr. Popular and then to Entertainment. They each gave each other a glance.

“Dead ends,” Entertainment said it with a smile. She enjoyed the window shopping she had done with Mr. Popular, much to his dismay. He hadn’t removed the sunglasses inside Mickey’s apartment, but she could tell how uncomfortable he was.

“Anything from Falchion?” Shikkon not pleased with Entertainment’s answer, continued to gleam any further information.

“Nope,” Entertainment said dully. She wasn’t upset about her encounter with Mr. Popular, but had hoped to hear something from Falchion. “How about you guys?” Entertainment wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from her, or Falchion.

“We succeeded in meeting Mad Camel, well The Gate did, and apparently we got an item from him. I don’t know what it is The Gate drove off with it, and said he would meet up with us shortly after he checked in with some contacts.” Shikkon said reporting in a monotone manner. Serious and dull it did nothing to appease Entertainment. Her dislike of the situation was so much that Shikkon took notice.

“Something wrong?” He asked her with robotic concern. Entertainment looked surprised by Shikkon’s question, and shook it off as nothing more than confusion.

“We probably should’ve held onto the item Mad Camel gave The Gate.” Mickey startled everyone from the corner. He spoke aloud deep in his thoughts. Blinking a couple of times he continued his train of thought aloud, but more concise, “I mean he hasn’t been fully trustworthy, in my opinion, and to let him run off with it while the rest of us wait is not good for business.”

Entertainment knew where Mickey was taking the conversation, and agreed. “That may be true, but you haven’t been fully forthcoming about yourself either, Mickey.” She said with such disdain and condescension that the others looked at her. She stared down Mickey, while everyone else looked shamefully away from each other. Entertainment’s words struck a chord in all of them. They all had secrets and a past. A past that could haunt all of them at any moment, as much as Mickey’s past was doing to them now.

Betty continued to watch and observe the strange icon. She couldn’t exactly figure out what it was doing. Half the time they would be focusing on their task inside the Matrix. The other half of the time they would idly stare off into the distance.

Using the idle moment as an opportunity, Betty decided to be bold and investigate more closely. She had been in fairly close proximity before, but hadn’t wanted to push the issue. Slowly and cautiously Betty began her probing. 

She had gone farther than she had previously thought possible, and began to see the reason for the icon’s actions. She was amazed to see the level of skill this person was able to display.

Betty was also shocked at her own ability to gain this much information without being noticed. Carefully Betty withdrew from her scan, and backed away to a safe distance to watch the icon further.

Betty thought about informing Falchion on the matter, or anyone else for that matter, but for the moment she simply wanted to observe. It could have been Byte’s message to her about her friends that made her hesitant about calling anyone, but she decided waiting was best.

Mickey felt he had been staring at the same spot on the floor for hours, and slowly burning a hole in the floor. He lightly shook his head, coming from a daydream. He had so much on his mind that he had often shut down completely. He would blankly stare into the distance, or at the floor. Not paying much attention to those around him.

It wasn’t until a strange tremble overtook his body that he would come out of this daze. He would begin to shake all over. No one ever noticed even if they were near him, but he could feel it in every pore and essence of being.

It was if his body was trying to alert him to something. He would always get this feeling of utter fear compelling him to flee. He thought it strange since he was capable of fighting, but the idea of fleeing had lately seemed to prevail. He also had noticed in the fire fight in the street that when fleeing had ceased to become an option he had recklessly decided to fight. It was like he was being compelled to do things he normally wouldn’t do.

His eyes immediately darted to the door, waking him out of a daze. It was happening again, the light tremble. There was no time, to grab any of the guns from underneath the bed. Only enough time to make a run for it. Scrambling to his feet he bolted for the door.

“Where are you going?” Shikkon asked suspiciously. The others looked at him curiously. As he continued to unlock the door, and open it, “I’ve got to get out, and get some fresh air.” Mickey’s voice quavered from the trembling. He hoped they wouldn’t notice, and not question him further. “Hurry back,” was all that Shikkon managed to get out as Mickey ran out the door.

 Once outside of his own apartment, Mickey couldn’t decide which way he wanted to escape too. Neither way felt safe. He could choose between the front door or the back, but both felt trapping. He chose the front door first, and held the back door as a last resort option.

Moving towards the stairs that would lead to the entry landing, and eventually outside, he began to freeze. He could see several men entering the building through the front door. With little thought he sprinted back towards his apartment and the back entrance.

He had made it past his apartment when he saw two men descending the rear stairs. He wouldn’t have thought much about it if the front door hadn’t been swarming with people, and these two guys weren’t wielding visible submachine guns.

Mickey had little time to react, but made the move back to his apartment. He managed to escape bullets flying down the hallway, and ricocheting off the wall outside his apartment door. Moving deep into his apartment he garnered as much cover as possible behind the bed. Mickey’s breathing was sporadic and panicked.

“What was that?” Shikkon said in a raised, but calm voice. Not wanting to look out the door to find out, Shikkon turned to the sole window in the entire apartment. He felt thankful that it looked out onto the street. He wasn’t pleased that the window looked up from the basement, but now wasn’t the time to be picky.

“What do you have in there Mickey?” Shikkon’s words were short and concise as he pointed to Mickey’s personal store of weapons. He didn’t want to waste any time explaining things, and had decided to take things into his own hands. He wasn’t going to back down from a fight this time.

Not getting a response from a frozen Mickey. Shikkon quickly sifted through the cache of various guns, and found multiple grenades, “This’ll work just fine.” Taking two of the grenades from the cache, he looked through the window again. Men in clichéd suits were moving along the sidewalk towards the back of the building. Shikkon knew he was only going to get one shot at this, and took a deep breath, pausing only for a moment below the window.

Breaking through the window, he heard exclamations of surprise from the various men. Having the momentary drop on these guys, gave Shikkon the satisfaction he wanted and the time he needed. A grenade in each hand he did the best in throwing them in opposite directions and away from the building.

Ducking away from the window and into cover, Shikkon yelled to the others to cover themselves. All of them did the best they could with the little that was available in Mickey’s apartment.

The little that was left of the window in Mickey’s apartment vanished after the explosion. The small section of the wall that was attached to the street now ceased to exist. Mickey’s apartment now opened up onto the street, and had debris scattered everywhere.

Entertainment scrambled to her feet and uncovered the weapons cache with speed. She knew she had precious seconds to do so, before men with guns would be bearing down upon her. The others reacted, but in a different manner. Guns drawn they climbed out of the apartment and onto the street with some minor difficultly.

Shikkon lead the group towards the back of the building. Dust and small particles of debris peppered themselves among his once well kept hair and clothes. Taking little notice of the cars that were partially aflame turned on their side, or the bodies of badly burned men on the ground. They were completely focused on the battle ahead, and despite any past mistakes this was what they lived for.

     Stopping at the edge of the building, Shikkon peered slowly around the corner. He saw five guys waiting outside of the back entrance, glancing around nervously.

     “We’re in luck,” Shikkon whispered back to the others, signaling that only five guys were waiting around back. The other three just stared at Shikkon in confusion, but prepared for an attack just the same.

     Mickey kept watching the front of the building in case anyone came from behind them. He had seen the men coming through the front entrance, and suspected those same men to be coming to attack them from the front.

     Everything was a blur the second Shikkon moved. With reckless abandon he ran around the corner, firing endless shots. Mickey had turned his head for only a split second to figure out what was going on behind him. Only to find that Shikkon had disappeared around the corner and Mr. Popular was following closely behind, firing a gun in each hand. In that instant Mickey moved clumsily to cover between two parked cars as bullets hit the building where he had been. With his heightened senses he had been able to watch the events unfold. Mickey watched in disbelief as Entertainment easily dodged the incoming fire, but also began firing back with the assault rifle she had taken from his weapon store.

Gracefully she wheeled herself into the street, and brought everything into slow motion. An assortment of spins, twirls, flips, and rolls accompanied Entertainment in her ballet of combat. Mickey did his best to give cover fire to her, but she pirouetted through their hail of gunfire with effortlessness.

Before Mickey realized it, everything was eerily silent. No more gunfire in the street to his left, in front of him, or from behind the building. It was the calm before the storm. Which Mickey had thought took place seconds ago. A barrage of guns blazing had graced his apartment complex, and somehow he had survived through it and felt more alive because of it.

Standing up from his covered position in between two wrecked cars, Mickey surveyed the damage done. The street looked slightly worse than usual. It wasn’t unusual to see bodies lying in the street, but the excessive physical damage combined with the amount of bodies, was a bit much.

“This is over my head. There’s going to be no way to-“ Entertainment and Mickey had been walking towards the front of the building, while he spoke. Subsequently either of them failed to notice the train of black SUV’s parked in front of the building. Following their momentary lapse, it was Mickey who realized the rotating machine gun atop one of the black SUV’s beginning to open fire. He had little time to react, and for some reason he moved to push Entertainment out of the line of fire.

If you would ask him, at a later date, why he had done what he had done. He wouldn’t have been to able answer. It could have been one of a plethora of things, but for Mickey it was a split second decision. One, that resulted in his body being riddled with bullets, and him slowly losing consciousness following his out of place heroism.

For Shikkon and Mr. Popular they had taken the initiative to attack they’re would be assailants; Charging in out of the blue, guns blazing. Shikkon had been the true leader, by rolling out from behind cover towards the nervous looking men. Placing well aimed shots into their individual brains almost simultaneously. Mr. Popular could only watch in awe, as his once former bodyguard dispatched four men in the blink of an eye.

It wasn’t until the fifth came storming around the opposite corner in surprise, that Mr. Popular got to redeem himself. A second later and Shikkon would have likely taken care of the fifth on his own, but it was Mr. Popular who had gotten to plug several shots into him. To which Shikkon only gave Mr. Popular a look of disappointment for the excessive use of force.

Shikkon moved to the other side of the building, but gave a look around the corner before entering the alley. With Mr. Popular in tow, they walked slowly and carefully down the alleyway; hearing several distinct gunshots as they moved along the way.

Finally reaching the end of the alley, and the front of Mickey’s apartment building, they saw it. The row of black SUV’s, complete with a gun turret atop one of them. “At least there’s only one of them,” Shikkon said calmly and sarcastically. Mr. Popular’s response was silent, as he dumbly stared at Shikkon.

Shikkon watched as the gun turned slowly towards the opposite of the building from them. He knew this might be his only chance to attack the vehicle. Perhaps he could get to the driver inside, and give the group a chance if there were anymore hit men.

His muscles tensed for the right moment, and just as he set himself to make a dash for the car, the familiar whir and deafening roar of the machine gun tore through the air.

Both Shikkon and Mr. Popular froze in the alleyway where they were safely hidden from the death in the street. “That can’t be good,” Shikkon said calmly again, but this time his voice lacked the sarcasm.

Note: NAN = Native American Nations. Thus referencing Dark Bear as a Native American, but it is meant to be a generalized statement. Thanks for reading.