by Kai O'Connal
Elijah looked at all of them and swallowed hard.
“Pineapple.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rijkard looked down at his watch. The second hand ticked slowly around the face and at last, the minute hand clicked forward.
He raised the bullhorn. “Time’s up. Send out the troll and the rest of you can leave. Refuse and you die.”
The side door of the van slid open and the troll stumbled out, as if pushed. Rijkard smiled. He’d lived in Chicago long enough to know how desperate the sprawl made people feel. And he knew how to take advantage of it.
“Step forward,” he ordered through the bullhorn.
The troll raised himself to his full height, but didn’t move a muscle. “You sure about this, asshole?”
A few of Rijkard’s more zealous followers started forward as if to avenge the slight, but the general raised his left hand and the men stopped. He raised the bull horn again. “I said step forward, dog,” he repeated. “Cooperate, and I’ll place you in the arena instead of killing you outright.”
The troll glanced into the van, the turned back toward Rijkard. “Fine! You want me? You got me!”
Something large, almost as tall as a man, was tossed out of the van. The troll caught it with one hand and instantly pointed it at Rijkard and his men, moving with a speed that could only come from a powerful set of wired reflexes.
Rijkard’s combat instincts kicked in, and he dove for cover a second before the barrel of the weapon flashed. There was a thump, a brief whistle, and Rijkard’s armored SUV exploded. It leaped into the air like a toy on springs before crashing down a few yards away in a ball of fire. Another boom, and then a third as two more cars went up in thundering balls of flame.
Amid the mounting chaos, Rijkard climbed to his feet, refusing the assistance of men who tried to assist him. His eyes locked on the burning body of his young driver, lying on the ground near the SUV’s hulk.
“KILL THEM ALL!” he screamed.
Cao slammed her foot down on the gas. The engine roared and the van charged forward.
“Get in! Get in!” Kyrie shouted, offering her hand to Pineapple, who was running alongside the open van, his Panther Assault Cannon gripped in one hand.
The mob was in chaos. Some people ran, others hid behind cars. A few were shooting back, while still others stood frozen, staring in shock. Fortunately, with Rijkard’s SUV lying upside down and burning several yards from where it had been parked, there was a nice, big hole in the enemy line. Cao headed straight for it.
The van rocked as Pineapple jumped in, followed by the scrape of metal on metal as the side door closed. Just in time, too, Cao thought. Already some of the Brigade thugs were recovering, and a hail of small-arms fire rattled against the van’s armor.
“Sorry I didn’t explain the details, everyone,” Elijah said. “I had … trouble coming up with the right words for it. But I assured you I cleared it with Pineapple.”
“And it helped me fulfill my promise,” the troll said. “Though I’m still behind, so someone needs to get that roof hatch open for me.”
Cao grinned and pushed the van to go faster. She smiled even wider when she heard the clank of the hatch sliding open. A second later a streak of light shot out into another car, making it erupt into a ball of fire. Burning Human Brigade thugs, their arms and legs flailing, flew through the air. They landed hard, skidding across the ground before sliding to a stop and falling still. A private message popped up in Cao’s AR.
>That’s eight.
Cao glanced at the picture taped to the dash. The smiling ghosts of the only family she’d ever known stared out at her from the wrinkled photo. No matter what else had gone wrong, at least one thing would be made right tonight.
Rijkard shielded his eyes from the blast as a third car exploded, but he reacted in no other way. It wouldn’t do to show weakness in front of his men. It undermined morale.
He watched as the van tore out through the gate, with three vehicles in pursuit. Rijkard grimaced as the lead vehicle exploded, and the other two narrowly avoided colliding with the burning wreckage.
His men wouldn’t catch the shadowrunners, he had already accepted that. He had underestimated these trespassers. By morning, they would be out of Chicago and beyond his reach. Still, there was one thing Rijkard could do. He turned to one of his lieutenants.
“Between our meeting at the courthouse and the drones, I assume we have decent images of those people?”
“Yes sir.”
Rijkard nodded. “Good. Go find a messenger. I need someone to go to Rolling Meadows and set up a meeting with the Aleph Society.”
“The Aleph Society?” The lieutenant’s eyes widened.
“Yes.” Rijkard watched through slitted eyes as the speeding van disappeared around a corner. “Tell them I have information I believe they will find very useful.”
“They moved it. Twice.”
Mr. Johnson’s icon in the Matrix café looked exactly like he did in real life. Apparently he was happy enough with his appearance that he didn’t feel the need to change it. It made Elijah feel a little guilty about the wrinkle smoothing he did on his own icon. But he didn’t worry about it long, because there were larger things at stake. Like trying to make failure sound like a step on the way to success.
“Not surprising, considering its value. Do you know where they have taken it?”
“The information we obtained says they have gone south. Rather far south.”
Mr. Johnson sipped his drink. Elijah didn’t know if this correlated with some real-world drinking, or if he just made his icon do it for effect. “How far south?” he asked.
“Amazonia.”
Mr. Johnson sighed. “Not a very convenient location.”
“No, not at all. So why go there?”
“Shall I go to the trouble of pretending I have no idea, or just go ahead and say that I’m not going to share that information with you?”
“Knowing why they’re going there might help me track it down. I’d have a better chance of figuring out who they’re going to contact.”
“Mmmm… No, you can leave that to me. But I do appreciate you already acting as if you’re going.”
Elijah stopped. Damn it, he thought. Mr. Johnson was right; once he was on the scent of something both magical and valuable, it was hard to let it go. It didn’t pay, though, to let that show. Maybe I should start bringing Leung along on these chats, he thought.
“I assume you want us to.”
“It would be useful, as the job is not yet done.”
“Of course. But given that this is beyond the parameters we discussed, there will have to be some … enhancements to the agreement. Amazonia is not the easiest place to get into. Or run in.”
“No, it isn’t,” Mr. Johnson said has he ran his fingertips soundlessly on the café’s white tablecloth. “And unfortunately, there are some limits as to what I can do to help you there. Which means niceties such as a direct flight are out of the question.”
“So how do we go about getting one?”
Mr. Johnson smiled, though thinly. “Let’s talk about that, shall we?”
“I don’t want their name on me. I don’t want any logos, any symbols, anything,” Kyrie said. “I’m not going to turn myself into an Aztechnology billboard.”
“That’s the plan he set up,” Elijah said. He thought this might be a tough sell, but he hadn’t anticipated just how mad Kyrie would get.
They stood on the balcony of their room in the Gary Marriott as the sun crept up over the horizon. Cao was sleeping in the back bedroom, and Leung was still playing with the computers, because that’s what he did. Pineapple was also in the living room, doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t breaking things or blowing them up.
“Disguising ourselves as Aztechnology people to get into Amazonia has to be the most backward plan ever,” Kyrie said.
“We’re not doing it to get into Amazonia. We’re doing it to get to Argentina. Then we ditch the Az
technology trappings.”
Kyrie had prowled back and forth on the balcony like a hungry tiger throughout the conversation, and Elijah’s words did nothing to slow her down. “One hour, one second wearing Aztechnology shit is too much.”
“I had no idea you had this much of a problem with them.”
Kyrie stopped in her tracks. She stared directly at Elijah, so intensely that he finally had to drop his gaze. “There’s an awful lot about me that you don’t know.”
When he was able to look back up at her, he just nodded. Kyrie returned to her prowling.
“The hell of it is, if Mr. Johnson can hook us up with Aztech identities, doesn’t that make it seem like the Big A could be behind the whole thing?”
Eijah shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Giving us Aztechnology trappings could be too obvious if they actually were Aztechnology people. This could be a misdirection.”
“I hope so. Because if it’s not …” Kyrie’s threat was left hanging, and Elijah wished he had an idea—any idea—of how she might finish it.
“I understand,” he said. “Let’s see how many of the others are on board.”
Kyrie nodded curtly and led him back into the room. Pineapple looked up as they entered, and Kyrie didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “So, are you coming with us?”
Pineapple stared at her for a moment, then turned his gaze on Elijah long enough for him to wonder if he’d somehow insulted the street samurai. “I signed on for this job. I’m gonna see it through.”
The mage nodded, then took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there. I didn’t want to make you a target—”
The troll waved a hand as big as Elijah’s head at him. “Whatever. I agreed to it. They got some shots at me, but I got to take my shots, too.”
“I just … I don’t like to have to place any member of my team in the line of fire,” Elijah said. That part was true.
“Good to hear,” Pineapple said. “That’ll make this next part easier.”
“What next part?”
Pineapple folded his arms across his huge chest. “I want Cao.”
Elijah stared at the troll. “I’m sorry—you want what?”
“Cao.” Pineapple leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Elijah’s. “If we leave her behind, she’s screwed. The Human Brigade will hunt her down. There’s nothin’ left for her here. I want you to hire her as a full member of the team.”
Elijah shook his head. “Look, Pineapple, she knew the risks just like the rest of us. She got her money and a little extra for the damage to her van—”
Pineapple bent down suddenly, his tusked face an inch away from the human. “You leave her, you’re putting her in the line of fire. Thought you just said you didn’t like doing that.” Elijah could feel the rumble of the troll’s voice in the base of his spine. His hot breath was also none too reassuring.
He blinked. “Okay,” he said. “She’s on the team.”
“Great. Guess she can expect to be treated as well as the rest of us.”
Pineapple straightened up, his head nearly brushing the ceiling, while Elijah did a double take, wondering how much sarcasm had been in his voice.
When he looked back at Kyrie, she wasn’t pacing any more, and had an odd kind of smile on her face.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head slowly. “I know you think you’re a good teammate. You made sure we got Slycer out, after all. But I know you, Elijah. I’ve run with you enough. Just because you don’t like to put someone in the line of fire doesn’t mean you won’t do it. You’re willing to ask an awful lot of us to get what you want.”
“It’s not what I want, it’s the job. It’s for the team …” He trailed off under her stare.
Kyrie leaned toward him, looking intently. “Yeah, I guess you really believe that. You really think you’re that guy.”
“What—you’re saying I’m not?”
“Just watch yourself,” she replied with a shrug. “Watch how people around you act. Then you’ll figure out what kind of guy you really are.”
Kyrie left him and headed back out onto the balcony after that, because there really wasn’t anyplace else for the conversation to go. The sun rose higher in the sky, and the wind from the west blew in odors of sulfur and decomposed garbage. Elijah decided it would be wise to leave her alone.
Her description of him, however, he found harder to dismiss.
It was good brandy. Quite good, really—smooth flavor, with hints of apricot, almond, and vanilla. He kept his generous snifter moving so he could enjoy the exquisite bouquet.
The drawback, of course, was that anything this good didn’t come for free.
“It’s the problem that comes when you deal with the other races,” Hearn said after his latest sip. “Their natures are crude, violent. Each second you spend with them increases the likelihood that they will lose control and bullets will fly.”
Rijkard nodded gravely. “Quite right. It’s my own fault, I suppose. I knew what they were, but thought I could handle them anyway. I paid—we paid—a grave price for my carelessness.”
“Then let me extract some revenge for you.”
“I can’t say that wouldn’t bring me pleasure, but it would be a long journey.”
This was the delicate part—Hearn had to get information without looking like he needed to know anything. He worked to keep his tone casual. “Of course. And it may not be worth the effort to chase them around the globe.” He sipped his brandy, then paused, as if thinking of something. “Then again, that distance could work in your favor.”
The hook was baited—now the general just had to take it. Rijkard didn’t move, but his gaze stayed laser-focused on the other man. “Go on.”
“If done right, this could actually enhance your reputation,” Hearn continued. “Once word gets around that you tracked down someone who left the country to avoid you, the other inferior races will think twice before daring to cross you again.”
Rijkard stood silent for a moment. Hearn held his breath.
“You’re right,” the general finally said. “This is about more than revenge. This is about staying true to our principles, and making sure this nation—no, the entire world—knows how committed we are.”
He stood. “I’ll get you the information you need.”
Hearn exhaled, then sipped his brandy. The chase would continue. He’d dealt with Rijkard—and unlike Elijah, he hadn’t had to fire a shot.
He’s just like everyone else, he thought with a smile. You have to know how to play his game. Give him what he wants.
And he’ll fall over himself giving you everything you need in return.
PART THREE
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Pineapple was the first out of the sleek business jet when it rolled to a stop in Argentina. He ducked his cropped-horned head out of the entryway, took the six steps down to the tarmac in three, and set his great fists on his hips.
“This place is a shithole,” he pronounced.
Kyrie elbowed past him. “It was your girl’s call.”
“My girl?”
“‘Cao is coming with us’ you said,” Elijah put in. He descended the stairs without watching where he was going. “‘Or else.’”
“But—”
“But nothing.” Kyrie spun in place, ducking to look beneath the plane’s fuselage. None of the pilots—if there even were any—had come rearward during the flight, and simultaneous pings from the plane’s AR told them to debark as soon as the plane stopped. “Shut up.”
“It’s not a bad city.” Cao stood at the top of the stairway, pulling her hoodie forward so it covered her face. She grasped the rail—it was shoulder-high on her—and stepped carefully down the stairs.
“It’s—”
Cao slapped Pineapple on the stomach. “Shut it. We’re here.”
Pineapple closed his mouth and shrugged. Seams groaned in his armor as the massive muscles flexed. The shrug turned into
a full shoulder-roll, which led to a grimace. “And it’s hot.”
“Only in temperature,” Cao muttered. Behind them, a bot lowered their luggage, including several sealed, charcoal-gray cases. There were still no signs of live pilots or attendants for the plane.
“Can’t say much for the gate service,” Leung said. The hacker stood apart from the others, one hand shading his eyes, the other stuck casually into his trouser pocket. He looked every inch the debonair junior playboy who might appear in the ass end of South America on a corporate jet.
“What?” he’d asked when he stepped out of the plane’s in-flight lavatory in the new outfit. “They’ll expect someone not nine feet tall and smelly on this bird, won’t they?”
Now he looked a bit put out that no one was there to greet his eminence.
Cao’s voice was grinning, even if her face was hidden. “Welcome to Posadas.” She spread her hands. “There was a reason I suggested we come here.”
Posadas sat on the southern edge of a spur of Argentina that thrust northward like a knife against the underbelly of Amazonia. To the west, across the river, was the quiet bulk of Paraguay. To the east, the fortified border of Amazonia. It wasn’t quite a demilitarized zone, but only because that kind of zone was solely classified as such by countries that were openly hostile to each other. Argentina and Amazonia were not openly hostile—which meant the heavy border patrols, deadly wards, and swarms of biodrones were there to stop the drug traffickers. It said so right on the brochures…
“Our wheels?” Cao asked.
Elijah half-closed his eyes. “Coming, I’m told.” He turned to face the plane when the stairway retracted and the cargo door slithered shut. “We should move the gear back.” He gestured. “Pineapple?”
“What’s this ‘we,’ white man?” Pineapple asked, but he walked with the others toward the stack of gear. Kyrie and Elijah gripped the steel handles on the end of one of the gray cases, but Kyrie picked her end up and dropped it. Elijah flinched at the thud.