“This beauty’s not going to stand much longer. See, by the front steps?” Max got out of the Bison and waggled a finger toward a window displaying a holo-sticker marking it for demolition.
“Just needs to stay up for a few more minutes. We get in and out.” Hood got out of the Bison and stretched, his bunched muscles cracking as he worked a kink out of his neck. He opened the door for Sindje and reached around her to grab his bow and quiver.
“Expecting trouble?” Khase asked the troll.
“Hope not. But I’m not leaving these in the Bison. Not in this neighborhood.”
Sindje continued to wrinkle her nose. “Better than the Barrens. Still, even for us, this is low class.”
Khase was at her elbow. “When was the last time we made a drop in a swank place? Never ever. This isn’t the worst. Far from it.” He glided to the back of the Bison and popped the hatch. Reaching in, he pulled out a plant that I Iood had called a philodendron hybrid. “Besides, I think this house has . . . oh, I don’t know . a pleasant touch of ambience. Character.”
Sindje’s expression said it all: Oh, please! “Hold up, Max.” The ork had just planted a boot on the sidewalk, which was seriously buckled from the thick root of a huge half-dead elm. “I want to do a little scouting first, ’kay? Don’t need any more surprises on this ‘milk run.’ ”
Sindje closed her eyes and leaned back against the Bison. Hood hovered in front of her, hands out in case it looked like she would fall. There was a faint smile on her face, and the slightest sheen of sweat appeared—evidence that the magic was taking a physical toll on her. She swayed back and forth, balls of her feet on the curb, heels hanging over. Then her lips parted and she started humming something soft and dissonant.
The elven mage felt herself floating, becoming an elegant apparition that rose above her corporal self and the Bison like a piece of lifting, incorporeal fog. A moment more and she was a meter above Hood and Max and her brother. She knew the wind had picked up since they’d entered the neighborhood; it made the dead branches of the elm clack together like the beaks of hungry crows. But she didn’t feel the wind, didn’t feel anything, not exactly. In this form she only watched and listened.
The old homes on this street looked no better from above. Some had actual shingles that long ago should have been replaced with scalloped plastisheeting. The home the Johnson had selected sported a hole in the back of the roof, where it looked like a tall tree in the backyard had dropped a branch. The backyard was small compared to the front, all of it taking up about three-fourths of an acre. The grass might have been that Kentucky-Seven Hood mentioned, as it was still reasonably short and even. But other plants had found their way into the weave—ugly like the rest of the places along this street. There were a few suffering, green patches of grass left, but these would eventually be choked off by more aggressive flora. A fine crop of weeds grew along the back line of the property, the fall not cold enough yet to turn them brown and brittle. Behind them stretched the parking lot of a small grocer’s.
A smattering of vehicles was scattered throughout the lot—a few recent-model Americars, a large gray van, gleaming with fresh wax, that Max would covet. The van was parked against the weeds; its windows tinted dark, and therefore sending a shiver down Sindje’s astral spine.
Don’t like the looks of that. But then, it might be the Johnson’s mobile. Probably is, she decided. Too well kept for around here. Let’s take a little look inside the house and see if he’s waiting for us. She’d seen him at the meet and memorized his features—handsome enough for a human in his middle years, well dressed and well-spoken, someone she might fancy spending time with between runs. Sindje knew she wasn’t really attractive by elven standards, but many humans still had a thing for the exotic, and pointy ears and almond eyes usually fit the bill. Cozy up to him after this, and perhaps he’d come up with a run lucrative enough to wipe out all of her and Khase’s debts. He’d probably want to get to know her better for the thrill of it, and an artful spell here and there would ensure the deal.
So they’d use each other for a time. No prob, as long as the bills got paid. Just the cost of doing business in the Sixth World.
She drifted down toward the porch, insubstantial feet dangling just above the weed-pocked Kentucky-Seven. Up the steps, she spread her arms for an effect no one would notice and then floated to the large front window. Despite the abysmal shape of the soon-to-be-demolished house, most of the windows were intact, a testament to the manufacturers of bulletproof glass.
Dark inside. Wait, there’s a light in the back.
Her diaphanous fingers touched the window, then the tips reached through. Knock, knock, Mr. Johnson, I’m coming in.
Max paced back and forth on the sidewalk. Her palms grew moist as she anticipated the credstick filled with double the nuyen. It was nuyen she had brought in; not Hood, not the keebler twins. That was all me.
She felt a tingling in her pocket and for a moment didn’t recognize what it was. “Oh.” She pulled out the earpiece, stuffed it in.
“Yeah?” She let out a snarl. “No, Hood ain’t home . . . I told you he was going out this afternoon . . . What? . . . No, I’m not going to let him talk to you . . . He’s busy, I’m busy . . . Sure.” She let out a louder snarl and stuck the earpiece back in her pocket. “Hey Hood, some guy named Sasa-something said to tell you he had visitors.”
She noted the troll’s raised eyebrow and opened her mouth to ask a question. But the earpiece tingled again. “What?” She half expected it to be the troll calling again for Hood. “Oh, Mr. Johnson . . . Yeah, we’re outside . . . I understand . . . Don’t need the neighbors to be gawking at us . . . The troll does stand out a bit . . . Upstairs? . . . The front door’s open? ... Be right with you.” Max turned to Hood and tapped him on the elbow. “Gotta go. Johnson says we’re eyesores out here on the curb. We can worry about your friend’s visitors later.”
Hood growled from deep in his chest, and hit the catch that opened the top of the quiver on his back. “Sindje! We’re moving.”
In a heartbeat the elf was back in her body, the humming stopped and her head shaking to clear her senses. "I didn’t get a chance to take a look inside, tad.”
“Well all take a look together.” Max motioned for the others to join her, as she hurried up the steps.
Khase held the plant in one hand, and took his sister’s arm with the other. “Shall we?”
“I wanted to look inside astrally, brawd.”
Hood nudged them forward. “I’m going up that porch last. Just in case the steps won’t hold me.”
“Lovely.” Sindje frowned as she did her best Max impersonation. “Lovely, lovely, lovely.”
16
4:11:23 p.m.
The sleek Nightsky, with the two Typhoons trailing it like a pair of looming pit bulls, pulled up to a gleaming apartment building in the suburb of Alki, surrounded by perfect green lawns irrigated with unobtrusive sprinklers that cost a fortune here or anywhere in the Seattle area. The limousine looked as if it belonged in the tony neighborhood; the Typhoons, not so much. But Roland was less concerned with either of those facts than with how he was supposed to get two sec teams, a scientist and a shaman into what was no doubt a building protected by a state-of-the-art security system.
“Ah, now this is more like it.” The shaman refilled his glass as they gazed up at the skyscraper from behind the relative safety of the Nightsky’s tinted windows.
Roland frowned. “You’re sure your little oil slick is right—this is the place?”
Having already dismissed the city spirit, Hiyakawa regarded the sec chief over the rim of his glass with cool eyes. “Spirits interpret their commands to the best of their ability, often literally. If it says that the rest of its pool is here, then that is the case.”
“Something’s not right—how could runners afford a place like this?” Roland rubbed his chin at the incongruity of it. “I mean, they drove a POS Roadmaster, for drek’s sake. It doesn�
��t add up.”
Lilith nodded, a slight vertical line above her nose the only physical evidence of her concern. “We can confirm at the garage entrance. If the truck stopped for the door on its way inside, then there should be more trace pollen there.”
“Which leaves the small matter of getting inside the building without tripping alerts. We are more than a bit out of our jurisdiction, you know,” the sec chief muttered.
Morgan contacted Roland from the front seat on the commlink. “Sir, you know Trevor is back at HQ and just waiting for the word. He’s always wanted a crack at one of these Triple-A ’burbs.”
“Well, get him online, because he’s about to get his chance today. But you let him know that the second any IC gloms on to him, he evacs pronto. No grandstanding, no flashy heroic stuff, just go. And tell him to be sure to reroute his sleaze through at least six links around the city. I’m sure he’ll do it anyway, but I just feel better saying it.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll make sure he reads you loud and clear. ” “And make sure our boys are ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
“Affirmative. ”
“So, what is your plan?” Hiyakawa asked.
Roland settled back in the leather, throwing his arm across the top of the seat as he tried to conceal his satisfaction that the mage had no idea what was about to happen. “We’re going to wait for that underground door to open, and when it does, we’ll just drive right in.”
“This I look forward to seeing,” the shaman said.
Yeah, me too, Roland thought, tipping his glass back and pouring the scotch down in one smooth gulp. He knew Trevor was good, but also a bit of a risk-junkie, and he didn’t want the hacker getting in over his head. Angie would not approve, he thought with a pang of guilt, followed by the realization that he hadn’t called his wife since that morning. In fact, she wouldn’t approve of this whole mess. But when it comes to bending a law or two or seeing my corp wiped out, I know which choice I’m taking. Still, he couldn’t help feeling as if he had sunk a little closer to the shadowrunners he despised. Frag that, they put me into this mess. Can’t take the time for a warrant. Even Jhones can’t help me out here. It’s not his jurisdiction, and I’m not gonna get him in trouble. No, this is the only way.
“Boss, we’re on.” Morgan put the Nightsky into gear as the building’s door rose. The limo cruised toward it, RVs close behind.
Roland opened a channel to both teams. “Squad Two, establish a position on the outside perimeter. Squad One, follow us inside. Both teams lock and load and go to overwatch.”
The garage level was eerily silent as the two vehicles pulled in. There were no obvious human guards at a place like this; it would have been gauche. Still, Roland couldn’t help feeling that they might be heading into a dangerous dead end.
Lilith pulled her sniffer out as they cruised into the garage level, and almost immediately got a hit. “This is the place. Strong trace—stop right here!”
Morgan braked the limo, and Lilith got out and walked in front of the car. “Very heavy pollen count—looks like it leads back to the elevator.”
“Morgan, if Trevor hasn’t already, cut the garage and elevator feeds.”
“One step ahead of you, Boss.”
“Good man.” Roland switched to the common channel for the rest of his men. “Squad One, we are go, repeat, we are go. Squad Two, maintain surveillance on perimeter.” Roland got out of the limo and went to the trunk of the car. Opening it revealed several weapons and three sets of body armor, including helmets. Slinging on a vest, he jammed a helmet on his head and then picked up an HK 227X subgun, slapping in a magazine and chambering a round. He hurried to join Lilith as Morgan turned the car around in the parking lot, backing into a space for an easier escape if necessary. The second in command got out, armored up, and grabbed his own weapon as the rest of the squad piled out of the Typhoon and clustered around Roland.
“All right, the plants are somewhere in this building. Ms. Chalmers, I cannot order or ask that you come with us, as we have already violated several laws, and are about to put the screws to a whole bunch more before this is done.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound. If I were going to bow out, I wouldn’t have come in here in the first place.” The older woman shrugged. “Besides, this sure beats twelve-hour shifts in the lab any day.”
Roland’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he pulled on a pair of custom-fit gloves. “Very well. Hiyakawa-san, the same goes for you as well.”
“We are already here, so let us pursue this matter to its conclusion.” The shaman smiled. “I would hate for anyone to say I do not earn my fee.”
“All right, since the pollen trail has been working so well, we’ll stay on it. Dr. Chalmers is going to sniff each floor to find out which one our plants are on. We find their hideout, bust it, and recover our flora, but leave them alone. Anyone in the room resists, subdue if possible, take them down only if necessary. Everyone clear? If this goes red, you are to clear out as many team members as possible without endangering yourselves. Primary escape route is out the lobby and to the Typhoon in the parking lot. Backup is the garage level, and pray that Trevor can get that door cracked in a hurry again.”
The five team members nodded, and Roland turned to Lilith. “I’m afraid that you will have the point, ma’am. May we at least offer you a vest?”
“No, thank you, Commander.” The older woman drew her trench coat closer around her and held up the sniffer. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Okay, we’ll have to check every floor, since we have no way of knowing which one they’re on. Visors down and let’s move, people.” The group hustled to the elevator, which was open and waiting for them. Everyone squeezed in, the fit made more difficult by K-Tog and his pair of short-barreled Remington Roomsweepers in a custom harness mount. Once on board, Hiyakawa closed his eyes and concentrated, while Roland stabbed the lobby button, and Lilith readied the sniffer.
Up they went, the elevator doors opening on each floor, Lilith getting a reading as quickly as possible, then shutting the door again and proceeding to the next floor. They ran into trouble only once, when a well-dressed man and his wife on floor three tried to get on. K-Tog reached out with a huge hand and shoved the man backward, his wife flailing alongside him as they staggered away.
On the eighth floor, Lilith got a hit, and stepped out into the marble-tiled hallway. Roland was right behind her, muttering into his commlink to confirm that Trevor had overridden the hallway cameras. The rest of the team fanned out, taking their assigned positions in a standard sweep-and-cover leapfrog formation. Roland gave the scientist the sign to move forward, and she did just that, following the blinking light. They passed five doors before Lilith held up her hand and pointed at the next one on the left. Roland immediately moved to the opposite side of the door, signaling for Morgan and the rest of the team to take up their positions for a door-knock.
Trevor fed Roland camera feed from inside. Through the wall of the condo he spotted three figures—two the large, distinct forms of trolls, with another person that might have been a big ork. Roland held up his hand with three fingers out. Three suspects. He pointed to Morgan, then the door, then made a typing motion with his fingers. Morgan nodded, and they all watched the red light on the door for several long seconds. It flashed once and then returned to the steady red glow. Roland gritted his teeth as he waited for the door to change. Even with K-Tog here, he doubted they could break the maglock. And if Trevor tripped the alarms—that would be all she wrote.
He heard a faint click, as the light changed from red to green. Roland motioned to the troll, who reached out with one hand and slowly eased the door open on its rollers, a Roomsweeper in his other hand to cover the short hallway inside. Roland gestured for Morgan to lead, then himself, then K-Tog, with one man to sweep the rest of the apartment and two to watch the hallway. He counted down on his left hand, right curled around the grip of his HK. Three . . . Two . . . One.
Mo
rgan stormed the hallway and burst into the living room, shouting: “Freeze! Nobody move!” Roland was right behind him, subgun tracking the three occupants. K-Tog’s basso growl reverberated around the room, and the twin autoloader shotguns, their muzzles as big as cannons, issued their own undeniable orders.
The three people in the room froze in various positions, expressions of surprise and fear on all of their faces. Two were certainly trolls, and the third person also looked like troll as well, but on a closer look, Roland saw she was a huge human woman, easily two meters tall and bulging with muscles. Muscle enchancement and plenty of it, gotta be. All of them were in various stages of undress; the women grabbing pillows to cover themselves, the troll straightening up and wearing nothing but a huge toga and laurel wreath.
Despite the strange scene, Roland issued orders. “Everyone just stay where you are. Keep your hands in plain sight, and you’ll be all right.”
Voices in his head confirmed their sweep of the apartment. “Bedroom clear.”
“Bathroom clear.”
“Kitchen clear.”
“What the frag is going on? Who are you people, and what do you think you’re doing?” Despite his outlandish outfit, the troll radiated a mix of haughty arrogance and glowering menace.
Roland pinned the guy with his gaze before answering. “You two”—directed at the women—“stay right where you are. Sir, do not move or make any otherwise threatening gestures”—besides just standing there—“and if you surrender the stolen property you have in your possession, we’ll be out of your hair in a few seconds.” He certainly couldn’t bust the guy, since they had already executed an illegal enter-and-search. Now he would be happy just to get the plants back and get the frag out of there.
However, the troll, who was rapidly turning from surprised to indignant, was having none of it. “Do you— people—have any idea who I am?”
Shadowrun 45 - Aftershock Page 13
