shadowrun 40 The Burning Time

by Stephen Kenson

  Roy had been sitting outside Otabi’s apartment complex for hours, and had started to think it was time to call it a night. If Otabi was slotting chips, he was probably sprawled out on the couch or the bed running one right now. Roy could try to break in, but he didn’t particularly want to get arrested. He decided to call it a night.

  Thinking about all that had happened since he’d arrived in the Boston plex, he realized that his hopes of making a big splash with this investigation had just about fizzled out. The fantasy of winning a promotion by exposing a plot that posed a danger to the company was being extinguished by the tedium of following someone as dull as Dan Otabi.

  He made up his mind to tell Otabi’s supervisor about his suspicions in the morning. Let him sort it all out. That way, Roy could be on the next flight back to Montreal. He shuddered at the thought of the piles of work probably awaiting him back in the office. Still, it couldn’t be worse than the fiasco this had turned out to be. Back in his hotel room, he took off his clothes and tossed them on the floor. He was asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.

  The insistent prodding of his headware woke him in the morning. He showered and shaved and got dressed. It didn’t take long to pack up his small suitcase and his deck in its case, then he checked out of the hotel. With his bags in the trunk of the car, he drove up to the Merrimack Valley research facility one last time.

  "Morning, Lou," he said to the security guard on his way in.

  "Morning, Mr. Kilaro," the ork returned brightly. "Here to check out some more systems?"

  "Something like that," Roy said.

  Lou watched his console as the security sensors swept over Roy like invisible hands, searching for signs of contraband, weapons, or dangerous cyberware. Then the ork took out a visitor badge, ran it through an encoder, and handed it to Roy.

  "Here you go," he said. "You’re all set. Hope you can finish up before Christmas. You wouldn’t want to be away from home for the holidays, right?"

  "Right," Roy said. "Thanks."

  His destination was the office of Rebecca Sloane, director of the Merrimack Valley facility. He had read her personnel file, along with those of other staff members, on the trip from Québec. She was an efficient, if not brilliant, manager who had worked for Cross Bio-Medical for twelve years. Before that, she’d been an administrative assistant at Fuchi. Her no-nonsense, professional attitude had gotten her promoted several times since joining CATco. She was divorced, with two children.

  Sloane’s secretary stopped Roy as he approached her office.

  "May I help you, sir?" the woman asked, rather nervously, he thought.

  "I’m Roy Kilaro, Information Services, from the head office," he said. "I’d like to see Ms. Sloane."

  "I’m sorry, Mr. Kilaro. She’s in a meeting right now."

  "I see. Do you know when she’ll be available?"

  "I’m afraid not, sir."

  "Well, could you at least tell her I’m here?"

  The secretary hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone on her desk.

  "Ms. Sloane?" she said. "There’s a Mr. Kilaro here from head office Information Systems to see you." She listened for a moment, then looked over at Roy. "You can go right in, Mr. Kilaro. She’s expecting you."

  Expecting me? Roy thought, but he kept the surprise off his face.

  Rebecca Sloane was in her late thirties and wore a dark blazer and matching trousers over a silk blouse. Her long dark hair was tied back tightly at the nape of her neck, and she wore small, diamond-stud earrings. She had a worried expression and dark circles under her eyes. It looked like she hadn’t gotten much sleep.

  Also in the room was an elf, who sat facing Sloane’s desk. Like most of his race, he was tall and thin. His pale, angular features were accentuated by the unrelieved black of his shirt, pants, and boots. His hair was black, too, worn long to the shoulders. The only spot of brightness was a silver pendant around his neck, a small, five-pointed star enclosed within a circle.

  Roy figured him for a mage, and wondered what he was doing here.

  Sloane walked toward Roy, extending her hand to shake Roy’s. "Well, Mr. Kilaro, thank you for getting here so quickly," she said.

  Roy stared at her in confusion.

  "You were sent by head office, weren’t you?" she asked. "In response to my request."

  "Request?" He felt like a total idiot.

  "The security. . ." she began, then stopped short. "Why are you here, Mr. Kilaro?"

  "There seems to be some kind of mix-up," Roy said. "I’m with Information Services. I came down a few days ago to look into some data-traffic and system quirks that turned up in your regular logs. I wanted to report my findings." He looked from Sloane to the elf and back again. "Has something happened?"

  Rebecca Sloane also glanced over at the elf. She rubbed at her forehead as though she had the makings of a serious headache.

  "Sit down, Mr. Kilaro," she said. "As long as you’re here, maybe you can be of some help." Roy took a seat next to the elf.

  "Mr. Kilaro, this is Cary Greenleaf. He’s with the Magical Resources department. Last night, Mr. Greenleaf sensed a magical intrusion in the facility."

  "What kind of intrusion?" Roy asked, suddenly going cold.

  "I can’t be sure," Greenleaf said in a pleasant tenor voice. "One of the spirits I bound to watch over the facility was destroyed by an unknown force, a magical intruder who left no other traces."

  "Was anything taken?"

  "We’ve got people looking into that now," Sloane said. "We don’t know. So far, we’ve found no other signs of a disturbance or break-in."

  "Could it be a false alarm?"

  Greenleaf shook his head. "No, impossible. Something destroyed my elemental."

  "Shadowrunners," Roy said softly, almost without realizing it.

  "That’s what we think," Sloane said. "Which is why I called head office as soon as Mr. Greenleaf reported the security breach late last evening. I assumed you’d been sent to assist in the investigation."

  "Actually," came a voice from the doorway, "that’s my job." They all turned to see a man dressed in an immaculate black jacket and pants, black leather shoes, and a deep blue shirt with a mandarin collar. His short blond hair was brushed back from a high forehead and cold, blue-green eyes. He carried a slim black briefcase in one hand. Sloane’s secretary stood behind him looking helpless, like she wanted to say something but didn’t dare. The man came in and closed the door quietly behind him.

  "And you are. . .?" Ms. Sloane asked cautiously.

  "Gabriel," he said. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a slim plastic card. As he pressed his thumb to the back of it, a holographic image of him appeared on the front of the card, along with a gold cross. "Cross Special Security," he added.

  Seraphim, Roy thought in awe, as Sloane’s eyes widened. Head office must have thought her call was serious business if they’d sent one of their elite agents.

  "I’m here to investigate the security breach you reported, Ms. Sloane," Gabriel continued smoothly, slipping the ID back into his pocket. "Who is this?" He looked directly at Roy, who wished he was anywhere else in the world at that moment.

  "Roy Kilaro, Information Services," Roy said before Sloane could answer.

  "And what is your involvement in this matter, Mr. Kilaro?"

  "I. . .ah, actually may have some information that’s related."

  Gabriel looked at him so hard that Roy wondered if he was reading his mind. A feat like was probably well within the Seraphim’s abilities. Unlike Greenleaf, however, Gabriel didn’t look like a mage.

  Gabriel nodded curtly, accepting Roy’s explanation, then turned back to Sloane.

  "Please describe what occurred," he said.

  She walked around the desk as if she was glad to have it between her and Gabriel. Then she leaned forward and put her hands on the desktop, as if to steady herself.

  "Last night at. . .around seven o’clock. . ." She glanced toward Greenleaf for
verification, and he nodded. "Last night at around seven, Mr. Greenleaf here sensed a magical intrusion—the destruction of one of the guardian spirits for the facility."

  "What time exactly?" Gabriel asked Greenleaf.

  "Seven-oh-four. I logged the time the instant I felt the elemental vanish, then contacted Ms. Sloane and Mr. Armont."

  "My head of security," Sloane supplied helpfully.

  "Are there any other signs of intrusion or indications that anything was taken?"

  "Not so far," Sloane said. "My security people are looking into that right now."

  "And I assume no one else has been informed about this," Gabriel said.

  Sloane shook her head. "No one except for my security chief and his staff."

  Apparently satisfied with that answer, Gabriel turned his attention back to Roy.

  "You said you have related information?"

  "Possibly," Roy said. "I was checking some system logs filed with the head office and noticed minor alterations of data coming out of this facility." All eyes in the room focused intently on him as he spoke.

  "They were very small, most likely random glitches. I asked to take over the regular maintenance inspections of the systems in this area so I could check them out for myself." He looked from Gabriel to Sloane, both of them obviously waiting for him to say more.

  "I traced the data-trail back here, and I suspected Dan Otabi, a computer systems specialist. When I spoke with him, he seemed nervous when he found out I was from Information Services."

  "Did you reveal your suspicions to him or anyone else?" Gabriel asked.

  "No, I thought that was premature," Roy said. "I didn’t have any hard evidence. So I kept an eye on Otabi instead. . ."

  Sloane’s hand slapped down on her desk. "You were spying on one of my people?" she demanded, incredulous. Roy started to respond, but Gabriel held up his hand for silence.

  "I’m not interested in what Mr. Kilaro did, Ms. Sloane. For now, all I want to know is what he saw and heard. Continue, Mr. Kilaro."

  Roy swallowed and went on. "Otabi’s apartment was apparently broken into, just after I arrived. The next night he went to a nightclub in Boston, where he met with a man and bought something from him." Roy saw a spark of interest in Gabriel’s eyes.

  "What club?" he asked.

  "The Avalon."

  "And what did he buy?"

  "I don’t know," Roy said. "I think it may have been chips or drugs. He went straight home afterward. His activities yesterday and last night seemed normal, although he did leave here rather late."

  "What time?" Gabriel asked.

  "At seven-twenty," Roy said, "which is not long after Mr. Greenleaf says his spirit was destroyed."

  Gabriel pulled up a chair from the far side of the office and sat down. "Mr. Kilaro, I want you to go over everything you’ve done since you noticed the anomalies at the head office, step by step. Don’t leave out anything. But first, Ms. Sloane, please find out if Mr. Otabi reported for work this morning. If so, inform your security people that he is not to leave the building."

  Sloane immediately picked up the phone to call security. Gabriel turned his attention back to Roy, who began to recount everything he knew in as much detail as he could remember. Gabriel listened intently, interrupting only to ask for clarification, which sometimes helped Roy remember some little detail or another. He noticed that the Seraphim agent didn’t take notes, yet seemed to be absorbing everything Roy said. Roy figured that was thanks to some kind of hardwired recording or data-system.

  When Roy was finished, Gabriel sat back in his chair. "Ms. Sloane, is Otabi here?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Yes, security said he reported for work this morning at his regular time, and he hasn’t left the building."

  "Call him in. I’d like to speak with him."

  Sloane tapped a button on her desk and exchanged a few words with her secretary before hanging up.

  Gabriel stood up and walked slowly to the window. He continued speaking while gazing out at the landscaped grounds surrounding the facility.

  "What do you know about Daniel Otabi, Ms. Sloane?"

  "Not too much," she said. "He tends to keep to himself. I’ve really only spoken with him at quarterly reviews and such. I can tell you he’s a good employee, does his job, rarely calls in sick."

  "But something of a loner?"

  "Yes, I guess you could say that. Do you think he’s some kind of spy?"

  "I’d prefer to meet him before I form an opinion," Gabriel said, then Sloane’s phone beeped.

  She picked it up, listened for a moment, then said, "Yes, send him in."

  The door opened, and Dan Otabi entered, escorted by Sloane’s secretary. He looked tired and wore a light windbreaker over his work clothes. Just as Roy was thinking how odd that was, Otabi reached into his jacket and pulled out a flat-black pistol that he leveled at Gabriel. The secretary screamed, and the rest happened so fast that Roy barely saw the Seraphim agent move.

  There was a blur of motion as Gabriel’s foot connected with Otabi’s wrist, sending the gun clattering to the floor. Otabi dropped to his knees, clutching his right hand against his chest, and suddenly there was a gun in Gabriel’s hand, aimed at Otabi’s head. Gabriel’s expression hadn’t changed a whit; he wore the same cool, calculating look he’d had since first entering the room.

  Recovering from the shock that had momentarily paralyzed him, Roy went to pick up Otabi’s fallen pistol. He looked at it in surprise.

  "It’s fake," he said.

  "What?" Gabriel asked, never taking his eyes off Otabi, who didn’t move.

  "It’s fake," Kilaro repeated, hefting the gun. "It’s a paint-gun, shoots a low-level laser like a laser-sight or a pointer that ‘paints’ the target. They use them in games where the players wear laser-sensitive jumpsuits and helmets that pick up when a beam strikes them. . ."

  "I’m familiar with the game, Mr. Kilaro," Gabriel said dryly. "Well, that explains how he managed get a gun past security." He extended his free hand palm up, and Roy gave him the gun.

  Gabriel looked at the paint gun, then back at Otabi.

  "Why did you pull this?" he asked.

  Otabi raised his head and glared. "I’m not telling you anything," he said through gritted teeth.

  Gabriel stepped forward and grabbed Otabi by the back of his jacket, hoisting him to his feet as if he were a rag doll.

  "All of you, out," he said, then turned back to Dan Otabi. "We need to have a conversation."

  Sloane, Greenleaf, and Roy filed quickly out of the room, and the door locked with a click behind them.

  Rebecca Sloane went over to reassure her secretary, who was still in shock over the sudden threat of violence. Greenleaf calmly took a seat behind a low table in the waiting area and turned one of the data pads to face him so he could scroll through the news pages. Roy stood there wondering what he should do, then went to sit down next to Greenleaf.

  The minutes seemed to drag like hours while they waited. Finally, the secretary’s phone rang. Sloane answered it herself, spoke a few quiet words, and then went back into her office.

  Roy stared at the door, wishing he could see through it. He wondered if Greenleaf could do that if he wanted. Mages were supposed to have such powers. The elf didn’t look the slightest bit ruffled, however, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Roy supposed that being a magician and routinely dealing with things like spirits would make you pretty blasé about industrial espionage and shadowrunners.

  Several uniformed security guards entered the waiting area. One of them knocked on Sloane’s door, which opened to admit him and his companions. Then Gabriel came out of the office, briefcase in hand.

  "You two, come with me," he said to Roy and Greenleaf. Two of the security guards reappeared from Sloane’s office, carrying the limp body of Dan Otabi between them. Roy wondered if the poor guy was dead, then saw him still breathing. He looked groggy and only semi-conscious.

  "Where are we goin
g?" Roy asked Gabriel.

  "I can’t answer that for security reasons," he said. "The less you know at this point, Mr. Kilaro, the better. Now, please come with me."

  Although the words were phrased as a request, Roy didn’t argue. He took his deck carrying case and got up to follow Gabriel. He knew an order when he heard one.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gabriel led Kilaro, Greenleaf, and the security guards carrying Dan Otabi’s limp form to the rear of the research facility, away from the most trafficked areas. Security discreetly cleared the way for them. Except for a uniformed security guard, the loading dock was deserted when they got there.

  Gabriel descended a set of ferrocrete steps to a sleek 2060 Eurocar Westwind parked near the entrance. Roy heard a faint click as the car’s locks disengaged, thinking it had to be the work of a headware radio or commlink. The security guards bound Otabi’s hands with silvery cuff tape before loading him into the back seat.

  "Mr. Kilaro," Gabriel said, gesturing for Roy to get in. Roy climbed into the back seat next to Otabi’s limp form. The man was still conscious, but he seemed to be in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings. Gabriel took the driver’s seat, and Greenleaf got into the passenger side.

  Gabriel rolled down the window as an older man in a Cross security uniform approached. Roy recognized him from the personnel files as Roger Armont, head of security for the Merrimack Valley facility.

  "Is everything ready?" Gabriel asked.

  "They’re finishing the loading now, sir," Armont said deferentially.

  "Good. Inform me when we’re ready to move out," Gabriel said. "I’ll follow them to the drop-off point."