"Ariel Tyson, as I live and breathe," he said. He hadn’t lost his Irish brogue or the sparkle in his eyes that she’d always found so attractive.
"Ian, what are you doing here?"
"Well, it’s a semi-free country," he said, "and I came in for a drink. May I?" He gestured toward the stool next to her and, when Trouble nodded, he sat down, resting his elbows on the bar.
"It looks like you’re ahead of me," he said, indicating her empty glass. He turned to the bartender. "Scotch neat, and another for the lady."
When their drinks arrived, Ian raised his glass. "Here’s to old times," he said, tapping his glass against hers.
"Funny you should say that," Trouble said. "I was just talking about you to someone."
"A boyfriend?" he asked, arching one eyebrow.
Ariel couldn’t help but chuckle. "No." She cast her eyes downward. "Just a friend."
"And did you tell your friend how much it broke my heart to see you go?"
"Ian, I—"
He laid a hand over hers. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just. . .it’s been such a long time and. . .well, I never stopped thinking about you, love."
"Are you saying there’s no lady in Ian O’Donnel’s life these days?"
Ian shrugged, then took a sip of scotch. He set the glass down and stared into it for a moment.
"There aren’t many ladies who can deal with the likes of me, Ariel. In fact, I can only think of one." He looked into Trouble’s eyes and smiled.
"Flatterer," she said.
"It’s only the truth. Odd, though, us running into each other after all these years. I was just thinking about you earlier today, wondering what you were about, and now here you are."
Trouble set her glass on the bar. "I really should go," she said. This was making her nervous.
Ian didn’t let go of her hand. "I wish you wouldn’t. Can’t you stay a while? I mean, what’s so important that you can’t spend some time with an old friend?"
She smiled. He was right. Nothing she had to do was urgent. Her research could wait for a few hours, and no one would be missing her tonight.
"All right, Ian," she said. "Why not?" Trouble didn’t know whether it was the scotch making her feel so warm and comfortable or Ian’s presence and his tender smile.
Right then, she didn’t much care.
CHAPTER NINE
The next day, Talon cruised up to the Avalon on Aracos. Most of Landsdown Street was still asleep. It wouldn’t wake up again until tonight when the club-goers would line the streets, everyone trying to get into the trendiest and most popular clubs. This afternoon, the street was empty except for people on their way to somewhere else and the squatters sleeping in doorways until someone chased them away.
Talon hopped off Aracos, and the sleek motorcycle shimmered and vanished into the air. Aracos was still there, however, invisible and intangible to the physical world, in case should Talon need him.
"This operating by day thing is almost becoming a habit," Aracos said into Talon’s mind. "Are you giving up being nocturnal?"
"Not as long as I’m in this business," Talon thought back. "But it’s safer for the team to meet when the club is closed, and we’ve got some planning to do. Besides, you don’t sleep."
"True," the spirit said, "but I find this place much more interesting at night."
"Much easier to get a few drinks, you mean."
"That, too."
Talon went in through the Avalon’s back door. Most of the staff knew that Talon was a shadowrunner, and a mage, which improved his status in their eyes. The fact that he tended to be somewhat mysterious about his abilities and that he was known to have a familiar spirit following him around didn’t hurt, either.
He took the stairs to Boom’s office. At the top, Aracos spoke again in his mind. "All clear, boss."
Aracos always went ahead of Talon to make sure everything was safe. Even in a place Talon considered his second home, it was wiser not to take chances, not in his business. Such caution had saved his life on a number of occasions. He rapped twice on the door to Boom’s office, then paused and rapped again. A moment later, Val opened the door and let him in.
Boom was sitting behind his massive desk. He was talking to Hammer while giving the occasional glance at the data scrolling across the display built into the translucent desktop. Hammer was sitting in a chair flanking the desk, dressed in loose khaki pants and a close-fitting T-shirt of ballistic cloth. His pistol was tucked under his arm in its shoulder rig, and his leather jacket was draped over the back of the chair. Not visible was the commando knife he kept strapped to one ankle inside the beat-up combat boots he always wore.
Val closed the door and went back to the couch against the wall. She, too, was dressed for action in black jeans, a cropped T-shirt, and boots. Her own beat-up jacket was tossed over one arm of the couch.
Talon glanced around the room. "Where’s Trouble?"
Val and Hammer both shrugged as Boom waved Talon to one of the other chairs. "She’s not here yet," he said. "She called a little while ago to say she got the message but that she’d be a few minutes late."
Talon nodded and dropped into a chair. He was curious, though. It wasn’t like Trouble to be late, but he didn’t press Boom for details. If the troll didn’t want to say more, then it was none of Talon’s business.
"So," he said, not wasting time, "we got a bite?"
Boom grinned and nodded. "Last night."
"Well, that didn’t take long," Hammer said.
"What did you expect?" Val asked. "This suit has definitely got it bad. When you’re that hooked on sims, you can’t go for more than a few hours without one."
Talon knew that Val spoke from personal experience. She’d been heavily into simsense as a kid. It was only the equally addictive rush of rigging that let her overcome her dependence on them. Talon often though he might have gotten hooked, too, if he’d had the nuyen for a datajack back when his magic was first developing. Anything could have happened if Jase hadn’t found him and taught him that he wasn’t going mad and not to be afraid of who and what he was.
"Talon, you still here?" Boom said, bringing Talon’s attention back to the conversation at hand.
"What? Oh, yeah, sorry."
"Thought you’d gone out-of-body on us or something."
Talon laughed. "Just thinking. Now, what were you saying?"
The troll raised an eyebrow. "I told him I wasn’t sure I could get in touch with you, but that I’d try my best and get back to him."
"And you left him hanging?" Hammer asked. "What if he decides to go to somebody else?"
Boom shook his head. "He won’t. First off, this guy knows zero about getting the hardcore sims. He only found us because we gave him a trail to follow. He’s not likely to be thinking real straight without his daily fix, and he’s scared. He’s afraid of getting caught doing something bad, and the more people he talks to, the more chance of that happening. No, it’ll be a while before he gets desperate enough to try to track down another supplier. Waiting will make him that much more eager to get what we’ve got, and that much more likely to use it once he does get it."
"And then we’ve got him," Talon said with satisfaction.
Two knocks at the door sounded, followed by a pause, then two more knocks. Talon got up and opened the door.
"Hey," Trouble said.
"Hey," he replied.
"Sorry I’m late." She walked past Talon into the room.
He noticed that Trouble was wearing the same clothes as yesterday when they’d gone to Otabi’s apartment yesterday. She’d never been a fancy dresser, but he’d never known her to sleep in her clothes unless she had no other choice. More than likely, she hadn’t gone home last night. He was more curious than ever, but still didn’t ask.
He closed the door while she took a seat next to Val on the couch.
"You didn’t miss much," Val said. "Boom was just saying he’s heard from Otabi, but that he hasn�
�t gotten back to him yet."
Just then an electronic ringing noise came from the troll’s desk. Boom glanced down at the ID code of the incoming call.
"Ah, speak of the devil," he said. "Looks like somebody’s getting impatient." Boom tapped the touch-sensitive surface of the desk with one thick finger, transferring the call to the cell-phone built into his skull and wired directly to his speech and hearing centers. He also ran the audio through the tiny speakers in his desk, so the others could hear the whole thing.
"Hello?" The voice sounded both nervous and desperate even in just those two syllables.
"Hello, Mr. Otabi," Boom said to the empty air, his voice relayed over his headphone. "What can I do for you?"
"I, ah, just wanted to know if there was any progress regarding. . .what we talked about earlier."
"As a matter of fact, yes," Boom said, turning an eye toward Talon. "I was just about to call you. I set up another meet for tonight. Eleven o’clock, here at the club. Is that acceptable to you?"
"Can. . .can you make it any sooner?"
"I’ll see what I can do," Boom said. "Why don’t you come by at ten, and we’ll see."
"Okay," Otabi said. "What about the price?"
"Four thousand nuyen, which includes the deck modified to your specifications. Paid on a certified credstick."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"All right. See you at ten."
"You got it," Boom said, and Otabi hung up. Boom rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "That should do it. Our boy is hooked. All we have to do now is reel him in."
"Is all the hardware ready?" Talon asked.
Boom nodded. "We’ve still got the simchip. I also acquired a few run-of-the-mill chips and a modified deck from a chummer who’s got a warehouse full of old Fuchi stuff that got sold off for a song when the corp broke up. He’s good at making just the right modifications without asking any questions."
"Wiz," Talon said. "Then all we’ve got to do is wait for Otabi to show up and make the deal. This time there won’t be any problems." No one rubbed it in that he’d fragged up the previous meet.
"Our timetable’s a little off," Hammer said. "Maybe we should make sure everything else is still in place so this will go down like we planned it."
"Is that doable?" he asked Trouble.
She started, as though she’d been thinking of something else. "Hmm, oh yeah, no problem there. I can’t go too deep into the system without tipping security that something’s up, but it shouldn’t be a problem to get the kind of data we need."
"Great," Talon said. "I think that covers it."
He called up his time display. They still had hours before the meet with Otabi. "Who wants to grab a bite? I’m starving." Hammer and Boom nodded, both of them known for their larger-than-human appetites. Val also said to count her in.
"I think I’m going to pass," Trouble said, throwing her jacket over her shoulder. "I’ve got some things to take care of. Will you need me tonight?""Um, no, I guess not," Talon said.
"Good, then maybe I’ll get a head start on that Matrix overwatch work. Give me a call when we’re ready to go." Without further ado, she headed for the door.
"Sure. . ." Talon said as the door opened and closed, " . . .thing." He directed a quizzical look at the others, who just shrugged. At least he wasn’t the only one in the dark about what was up with Trouble.
A little while later, the runners were gathered at a restaurant in Chinatown, enjoying their dinners. It was one of their favorite spots, but it was odd for them to be here at the dinner hour. They usually came late at night after a run. Most Chinatown eateries were open all night.
Talon picked at his lo mein with his chopsticks. "It was kind of weird for Trouble to take off like that," he said. The noise of the restaurant was enough to mask casual conversation, and he had Aracos on the lookout for anything suspicious.
"Not that weird," Hammer said, demolishing another chicken wing. He tossed the bones onto the plate in front of him. "She tends to get kind of caught up in stuff, you know?"
"You mean obsessive," Val said with a smile.
Hammer smiled back. "I wouldn’t say that. . .well, not to her face anyway. It’s just that when she gets into something, she gets totally into it, you know? Devotes all her attention and energy to it, especially when it’s a run. She probably just wants to make sure everything is set for when the run goes down."
"Yeah, but it’s not like she has a lot to do on this one," Talon said. "She handled the research and dug up the info on Otabi. There’s some overwatch, but the rest of it is pretty much up to us."
"Maybe that’s it," Boom said. "She doesn’t have a lot to do so that’s why she wants to make sure everything is perfect."
"Or she’s feeling a little left out," Val speculated, scooping some more rice onto her plate. "I mean, that happens when you haven’t got a big part to play."
"Yeah, but that happens to all of us," Talon said. "Is something bothering her?"
"You’re the mage," Hammer said around another mouthful of food. "Can’t you tell?"
"I suppose I could, if I’d thought to look," Talon said. "But I don’t generally go around checking out everyone’s aura, and by the time I noticed she was acting funny, she was gone. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right about reading my friends’ auras without permission."
Hammer nodded. "I appreciate that, chummer." Then he turned to Val. "Remember how Geist used to do that all the time? Look at you like he was looking right through you? Man, that was spooky."
"Oh yeah," she said with a laugh. "And you weren’t the one going out with him. Being with someone who knows what you’re feeling all the time— sometimes even before you do—can be a real pain in the hoop."
"Really?" Talon said, "I thought most women wanted a guy like that."
"Well, there’s sensitive and then there’s too sensitive," Val said, running a finger along the rim of her water glass.
She gave Talon a wicked smile. "I guess you’re just insensitive enough, Talon."
CHAPTER TEN
More and more, Roy Kilaro was sure that Dan Otabi was the man he was looking for, and he decided to keep a close eye on him. Sooner or later, Otabi would make a mistake that would give him away, and Roy could triumphantly expose the danger to the company.
There might even be a promotion in it, he thought, maybe to a security job. Maybe even a chance to work with the Seraphim, the company’s famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) counterintelligence division.
Roy decided to set up some programs that would alert him to any unusual activity at the Cross Bio-Medical Merrimack Valley facility, particularly on the part of Otabi. The whole reason he’d introduced himself to Otabi was in hopes of spooking him enough that he would make a mistake.
Once his monitors were in place, he picked up a radio tracker at the local Warez, Etc. store. It was the kind of spy-gear parents bought to keep track of the whereabouts of their kids when they’d borrowed the family car. It didn’t have much range, but it would have to do.
From there, Roy drove to Cross MV facility. He located Otabi’s car in the lot and planted the small magnetic transmitter under the bumper. The he returned to his own vehicle parked nearby to wait and watch everyone going in and out of the facility.
It was late afternoon before he finally saw Otabi finally come out and drive off in his car. Roy activated the tiny tracer and followed at a discreet distance, checking the GPS map on his dash to see where the sarariman was going.
It wasn’t far. Maybe a kilometer or so from his office, Otabi stopped to make a call at a public vidphone. Watching from a short distance away, Roy regretted not buying surveillance gear that would have picked up what Otabi was saying or identified whom he was calling, but he hadn’t thought of it. Otabi’s call was brief. A minute later, he was back in his car and returning to the office. Roy briefly considered trying to crack open the public telecom to access its memory, but decided it would be
too difficult and too risky. Better to stay on Otabi and see what he did next.
He then followed Dan Otabi to a nearby town, concealing the Chrysler-Nissan Spirit behind a big Titan truck while Otabi went into the bank and then came out again shortly after. His last stop was through the local McHugh’s drive-through to pick up some food, then he returned to the Cross facility.
Roy didn’t see him again until well after quitting time. Oota drove home to his apartment, but apparently didn’t bother to inform the police about the break-in, because none showed up. Roy thought that was confirmation that Otabi had something to hide. He’d looked edgy and nervous that day, like he was expecting something to happen, maybe something related to the call he’d made from the public vidphone.
Roy waited in his car across the street from Otabi’s apartment complex, sipping lukewarm McHugh’s soykaf from a paper cup.
It was nine-thirty before Otabi appeared again, went to his car, and drove away. Roy waited a few moments before taking after him, just long enough to create some distance. The tracker was still operating, so he wasn’t worried about having to stay so close that he’d give himself away. Otabi drove toward the bridge into downtown, and Roy followed.
At the Fenway Park stadium, Otabi pulled into a parking garage. The stadium was dark, so it didn’t look like he was planning to attend a game. After circling the block without finding a parking space, Roy also drove into the parking garage. He hoped Otabi hadn’t spotted him. Fortunately, someone on the first level was pulling out just as he was coming in, and Roy quickly claimed the space. He killed the engine and the lights, and waited for Otabi to come out.
He must have parked on one of the upper floors because he emerged from the stairwell a few moments later. Roy kept his head down and watched in his rear-view mirrors as Otabi shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and left the garage on foot. Roy got out of his car and followed, careful to keep his distance as Otabi continued a short way up the street, then crossed over to Landsdown Street.
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