Shadowrun, p.24
Shadowrun, page 24
The spirit laughed, its whole body seeming to shake. “You will hold me off with that little thing?” It glided forward, and Runs with Knives let it, then sliced across its front. The air cleared where the blade passed through with a hiss.
Recoiling in surprise, the spirit said, “We will settle this another time.” It seemed to melt into the floor as it went back to whatever plane it had come from.
Spiritwalker went to a workbench and said, “Look for any tomes or magical theory papers. Hopefully we can find a clue of what that thing is.”
“Scooter, come in for pickup. We have wounded and a possible enemy, so stay alert.” I said.
I turned to find Vindicator getting unsteadily to his feet. His eyes were glassy, but we weren’t having to carry him, so I wasn’t going to argue. Spiritwalker and Streetshade each had an armful of books and papers as we headed out of the building.
As we piled into the van, Scooter asked, “Did you get him?”
Vindicator started sitting down and I pointed him to the medical bed in the back. I hooked him up and strapped him down as we headed out. He was doing amazingly well for having taken three rounds in the chest minutes ago—his dermal plating must have deflected the bullets.
We continued in silence for a minute and then Spiritwalker said, “He had an ally spirit. That must be what we turned loose back there.”
I thought about that Karma card again, and in a way thought a teammate in a body bag might have been a better balance for the spirit we might have just loosed upon the world—even if I did hate burying friends.
TENUOUS CONNECTIONS
(Wheel of Fortune)
KAI O’CONNAL
“Call for 2–4–1. Platinum client, critical. Gilmer and Piedmont, on Georgia State campus.”
Emir reached up and flicked the emergency switches over his head. Bright red and white lights reflected off the surrounding glass buildings with enough intensity to make most people squint and have a spattering of sun spots. The siren blared off the tall structures on either side, creating an echo that inspired the cars in front of him to pull to the side of the road. His foot pressed against the accelerator, shooting them forward fast, and Nessa gripped the door to keep from being shoved back into the passenger’s seat. After the initial burst of speed, she unbuckled her seat belt and crawled into the back of the ambulance, starting to prep the gear.
“What do we know?” Emir shouted at her without turning his head, his attention focused ahead of him as he swerved around the afternoon traffic and jerked the ambulance into a hard left turn that left behind streaks of rubber.
“Troll. Brought in twice in the last year. Lots of cyberware. Gets his money’s worth from us, that’s for sure. Management’ll be pissed if we’re five seconds late.” There was a brief pause, long enough that Emir was tempted to look back at his partner. “Shit. His heart just stopped. How long?”
“Fifteen seconds.”
Emir pulled them into another turn, the momentum lifting them up on two wheels for a fraction of a second before slamming back down to the pavement with a teeth-grinding clatter. The odor of smoke and hot rubber leaked in through the ventilation system. From here, it was a straight shot to the intersection.
Ahead, the road was empty. A couple vehicles were parked off to the side, several with shattered windows and punctured tires. The staccato crack of rapid gunfire echoed over the siren, accompanied by flashing bursts of light as two groups of people exchanged rounds. Smoke billowed around the corner, pouring from some unseen source. Emir shifted in his seat, glad to feel the discomfort of the body armor biting into his skin.
“You got a lock?”
“Yes. Uploading now.”
As they sped forward, Emir saw a flashing green light displayed in front of him, just on the other side of the building to his right. The AR artifact outlined the body of a troll, lying on his side. It was impossible to tell the patient’s condition based on the overlay, but it gave him a location.
Once they passed the last parked car, Emir swerved right, riding up the curb with a solid bump and the scrape of metal against pavement. He reached up and twisted his hand around, grabbing the top of the wheel in a reverse grip. His other hand reached to his seatbelt, unbuckling it. Once they stopped, they’d need to move quickly. This zone was too hot.
Emir slowed down, watching the speedometer with intent, waiting for the numbers to tick by. As soon as they passed the threshold he knew the ambulance could handle, he jerked the wheel hard to the side and yanked up on the emergency brake. Ambulances weren’t the best at this maneuver, but the DocWagon ones had a few improvements to help, and Emir had had hours of training. The ambulance swung around until it pointed the direction they came, only a few feet from the edge of the buildings.
A couple of bullets careened into the side, offering a hollow metallic ring. They were scattered, not focus fire. Most people respected the sanctity of DocWagon, even those with criminal experience. In truth, the more criminal activity someone was involved in, the more likely they were to respect DocWagon’s presence. Emir wagered it was because they knew one day their own lives might depend on the services they provided.
He flung the door open and jumped to the ground, running toward the back of the ambulance. Nessa had already opened the rear doors and dropped the gurney onto the pavement. She wasn’t large, but she was strong and experienced, two things that made Emir glad to have her as his partner. He passed her and ran to the corner of the building, hunching over. Even as a small ork, he still made a very large target compared to most. A couple bullets slammed into the wall above him, forcing him to drop to his knees as soon as he heard the cracks. Dust fell around him. Not enough to obscure his vision, but just enough to remind him where he was.
Crawling forward, he peeked around the edge of the building so he could see the troll on the sidewalk. The man was bleeding from several bullet wounds and rested in a large puddle of blood. It never ceased to amaze Emir just how much blood was in a person. When it poured out over a smooth surface, it covered a lot of area. Another body was close by, only a few feet away, but a quick scan showed that whoever it was didn’t have a contract. That was all Emir needed to know.
He reached out and grabbed the troll’s ankle, planting both feet and pulling. Clenching his jaw, he adjusted his sliding feet until the troll’s body finally started moving. Emir probably couldn’t have moved him at all if it weren’t for all the blood slicking the ground. As it was, he barely managed to get the troll out of the immediate path of gunfire.
Nessa ran up and grabbed the troll’s other ankle. Shuffling their feet, the two managed to get their client into the side street next to the gurney. Emir checked his body to determine the extent of his injuries while Nessa put the cap for a syringe between her teeth and looked for a vein. The troll’s face was injured, the skin freshly blistered from some sort of chemical burn. He’d taken three gunshot wounds to the chest, and two of them were through and through. The third might be a problem, but hopefully they could leave that one to the hospital. A fourth hole in the troll’s leg was responsible for the greatest amount of blood loss.
Grabbing a length of tubing, Emir tied a quick tourniquet around the leg above the injury, hoping to stop the flow of blood. He fished in his pockets, pulling out trauma patches and bandages, dressing the wounds as Nessa administered her injection and then moved onto delivering CPR.
Emir was still in the middle of tending to the troll’s wounds when he took his first breath of his own accord and began coughing. His breathing was wet, and sounded like someone blowing bubbles in a drink. Emir glanced up at Nessa and saw she recognized the signs, too. With a heave, they hoisted the troll onto the gurney and wheeled him into the ambulance, trying to be gentle, but with a greater focus on speed. They wouldn’t be able to save him here.
Once the patient was loaded, Emir slammed the doors shut behind Nessa and rushed back into the driver’s seat. The gunfire still echoed in the street, but the bursts were more interspersed. It had become an occasional rattle rather than a near constant stream. Emir gave it little more than a passing thought as he sped away, the siren blaring as he rushed to the nearest hospital.
“—The barrels! Get them on the truck!”
Emir glanced over his shoulder at the sudden shout from the back just in time to see Nessa use her entire body to pin the now-conscious troll to the table. She strained to grab the security strap, but once her fingers curled around it, she snapped it into place over the client’s chest. He let out a guttural sound that was a cross between a growl and a moan, but it faded into silence as Nessa applied a sedative patch. Emir turned his attention back to the road and swerved through the streets. Time was not on their side.
The closest certified hospital was only a few blocks away, so there was still a chance. Emir drove to the back entrance, the one contracted by and reserved for DocWagon. Before the ambulance pulled to a stop, three people rushed out of the back doors, dragging a gurney between the two in front. The third nurse had a collection of syringes in his hand.
By the time Emir crawled out of the ambulance and walked around to the back, the troll was on the hospital gurney and Nessa was uploading the limited information they had about the client.
He looked into the back of the ambulance and saw a card sitting in the blood. It was red, with the image of a gun pointing out as if to shoot whoever held it. The white flare off the barrel of the gun caught Emir’s attention. He paused for a moment, staring at the piece of art. It was larger than most cards, almost as long as his hand, and made of some heavy stock. Somehow, he knew it was important.
Emir grabbed the card and rushed over to the troll, tucking it into the victim’s pocket as the nurses wheeled him into the hospital. Once the handoff was completed, he sighed heavily and leaned against the back of their ambulance. Even without peering around the corner, the metallic odor was near-overpowering. While the smell of blood no longer turned his stomach, he doubted he would ever be truly used to it. Cleaning out their vehicle would be a draconic effort. Burning the entire thing down with fire might be the simplest solution. At least then they could expense a new vehicle.
Exhaustion struck him like a bullet train, and Emir’s knees caved underneath him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to recover now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping through his veins. He heard Nessa’s shoes scuff the ground as she walked over to stand by him. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. She stood next to him, arms crossed and her head tilted to one side.
“You all right?”
“Yeah. Just dealing with the crash.”
She nodded and pulled up her sleeve to show the small patch stuck to her forearm. “I keep telling you, I could give you something for that. Helps keep the edge off. Doesn’t do much, but makes the crash not as bad.”
She turned and put her foot on the bumper of the ambulance, looking at the carnage. Emir twisted around so he could look at it once again. It almost looked like someone had set off a paint bomb in the small room. Splatter reached all the way up to the ceiling. With a grunt he pushed himself up from the ground, walking around Nessa to the front of the vehicle. She slammed the doors shut and took her place next to him in the front cab. He pulled out of the loading area and drove to the cleaning station just a few meters to the side of the doors.
Almost an hour later, Emir wiped down the last of their gear with a disinfecting rag. Before he had a chance to sit down, his AR display indicated an incoming call from Central.
“Call for 2–4–1. Got another one for you. Munitions station downtown. Sending you StreetGrid coordinates. Gold corporate account. Security guard for the station. Stable, but vitals spiked. Might be a patch and go. Check it out.”
“No rest for the wicked?” Emir flashed a grin at Nessa before tossing his rag on the biohazard pile and climbing up into the front.
“That explains why you’re always working, but not why I’m stuck with you.”
“’Cause you can’t get enough of my good looks.” He drove forward, following the trail highlighted on the roads in front of him. He turned on the lights, but kept the siren off for now. Nessa would tell him if they needed more urgency. “What do we know?”
“47-year-old female, soy allergy, only has her corp account. Never been triggered. Not her lucky day. Vitals stable, barely in the red. Blood pressure dropping a bit.”
“At least this one won’t make our rig look like a low budget horror trid.”
When they got to the munitions plant, it was obvious which entrance had been used by the criminal. The large shipping door leading into the warehouse had been torn open, with several jagged fingers of steel reaching out into the parking lot. A forklift sat a few feet from the opening, deep scratches carved into the chassis from where it had forced its way through the shutter door. Fluorescent lights provided an eerie and almost mystical white glow through the opening.
Emir pulled up to the opening and got out, rushing with his partner into the building. His display let him know their target was to the left, approximately twenty meters away. This section of the large room was filled with crates stamped with various labels indicating different types of ammunition.
After four rows, the building expanded into a large open space, with several machines lining vast conveyer belt systems running the length of the facility. Most were turned off, quiet, and unmoving. One of the assembly lines was running, the conveyer belt churning in vain. There was an acrid odor in the air, strong enough to force Emir to bring his arm up to cover his nose and mouth. Up ahead, the security guard was collapsed in the fetal position next to the working conveyer belt.
Nessa reached the body before he did, rolling the guard onto her back. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was having minor convulsions. It took both of them to straighten out her body, and Emir had to hold her down while Nessa gave a quick exam. The guard’s blood pressure had dropped a few more points and her temperature had spiked, but she still wasn’t critical.
“There’s an entry wound in her shoulder, looks like a stab. Not a gun shot. No burns around the tear in her armored jacket. Guessing a knife or something.”
Emir lifted the woman’s torso and helped Nessa pull off the jacket for better access to the wound site. The skin around the puncture was sweltering and red, emanating a heat Emir could feel through his gloves as he lowered her to the ground. Nessa opened her med kit and cleaned the wound. The guard still shook, but Emir no longer had to hold her down out of fear of her spasms. He grabbed her arm and held it straight and steady, providing access for Nessa to give a shot.
Without knowing exactly what they were dealing with, they treated the symptoms as best as possible. It took a few minutes, but their efforts proved to be rewarding. The guard’s tension eased, and her wound looked clean and healthy. Her blood pressure climbed back to normal levels and her eyes fluttered open.
“Easy there. You had a rough night.”
The woman tried to push herself up and turned her head from one side to the other, rolling it as she looked around despite her weakened state.
“Where is she? The elf? Tall—dark hair… Broke in.” Her eyebrows knit together as she reached up to gently touch her shoulder. “Stabbed me.”
Emir took her hand, wrapping his meaty paw around her rough fingers and eased her hand to the side. He helped slide her across the floor until she rested against the side of the machinery.
“You’re all right now. Rest. Tell the authorities when they arrive.”
The woman nodded a couple of times, letting her head droop until it rested on her chest. The clomp of several boots marching across the floor echoed from behind him and he turned to look over his shoulder. A group of uniformed Lone Star officers marched forward, escorted by a man in a suit who walked backward while he spoke and gestured around the facility. Nessa put a hand on Emir’s shoulder before walking off to talk to the new arrivals, leaving him to care for the client.
Checking her vitals, Emir was pleased to see she was doing well. Her blood pressure and respiratory rate were steady and back within acceptable levels. It looked like she was out of the woods. He leaned forward and put his hand over her bandaged wound, checking to see if it still burned. He couldn’t feel any heat through his glove like when they’d first found her, and the pool of red on the bandage had stopped expanding. He reached behind him to grab her armored jacket, dragging it across the floor and draping it over her legs. As he adjusted it, Emir noticed a flash of red and white sticking out of its front pocket.
A quick glance over his shoulder reassured him that Nessa was handling the authorities, so he pulled the card out by its corner, revealing the exact same one he’d seen earlier that evening. Not only was it the same design and quality, but it was the same physical card. It was still wet and stained with blood, blood that could not have come from the security officer in front of him. For several seconds he sat there, frozen, as he stared down the barrel of the gun pointed at him from the card’s surface.
“You good to go?”
Emir jumped to a standing position as Nessa clapped a hand on his shoulder, practically knocking her over with the sudden motion. He tucked the card into his pocket before turning around.
“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
The officers spread throughout the building, starting their investigation. They ignored the DocWagon drivers as they left the building. The suit offered a single nod and a facsimile of a smile, the gesture not reaching past his lips. Emir was lost in his own thoughts as he swung back into the driver’s seat of the ambulance.
“Remind me again why I’m your partner?”
The question pulled him out of his thoughts and he grinned at her. “My charming good looks.”
