Preying for keeps s-29

by Mel Odom

  "I think I'm doing okay these days." Tone glanced around, looking for the security teams working the floor.

  Skater looked with him, never taking his eyes off Tone or the razorgirl. Evidently the yabos working the front door had passed the message, because the hard guys were leaving me floor.

  "Some of those guys belong to me," Tone said. "Stinky-Fingered Al didn't buy you and send you in here."

  "No. I've got a personal interest in you," Skater said slowly. "Remember a woman named Larisa Hartsinger?" The name hung in Skater's mind, bringing with it memories from the past. Memories of how Larisa looked in the morning light, the sound of her laughter, the silk of her skin under his fingertips, the scent of her favorite perfume, and the taste of her mouth when passion ran hot between them. An image of her, tearful yet smiling while she held her baby, froze in his mind. And the focus clicked in, turning him into a monofilament whip waiting to be unloosed.

  "History," Tone said. "Days dead, and didn't even put up much of a fight." Skater felt the black rage drop on him, but it wasn't so much that he didn't see the small finger signal Tone gave the razorgirl. Without warning, she launched herself at him tike a heat-seeking missile. Snap-blades jutted from her forearms, and spurs flicked out from her heels as she flipped through the air. Light glinted from the whirling mix of keen-edged steel as she knifed toward Skater.

  The shadowrunner stood his ground, locking eyes with Tone, who was reaching under the table. Duran was back there. Skater knew, and backup didn't come any fiercer than the ork.

  The fusillade of bullets from Duran's Scorpion whipped by Skater, a few of them actually cutting ihrough the loose folds of the duster where there was no Kevlar lining. He didn't move.

  But the rounds caught the razorgirl as she came out of her flip, her blades extended and reaching for Skater's throat and face. Centimeters from making contact with her prey, the bullets hammered into her and knocked her back, a shattered puppet with its strings cut.

  The haze of blue gunsmoke drifted across the table as Tone pushed himself away and leaped up, a pistol in his fist.

  Skater look two quick steps, his muscles and synapses firing with the boosted reflexes. Behind him, he could hear the screams and curses of the casino's patrons as they scrambled for safety. He threw himself at Tone.

  The contact was hard, fierce, letting him know that the other man was definitely chromed up. His weight drove them to the floor, breaking chairs and scattering them in all directions.

  Skater chopped out with the Predator and smashed the barrel alongside Tone's gun-hand hard enough to tear the flesh. The reinforced bone didn't break, but the pistol bounced away into the shadows.

  They landed hard. Off-balance from his swing to disarm his opponent. Skater couldn't move away from the forearm shiver Tone threw with his other arm. Hard muscle and bone and cyberware crashed into his face and knocked his head backward.

  He hung onto the Predator as he rolled away. Using his free hand, he caught himself and came up on his feet. He lifted the pistol, looking for Tone.

  And caught a kick in the head that split the flesh over his eyebrow. Blood trickled into his vision, blinding him on the left. He let the force of the kick move him back a couple meters, listening for Tone's movements as well as trying to see them.

  Material whipped and snapped.

  Skater ducked, and the follow-up kick sailed over his head. He smashed the Predator's barrel into Tone's support leg, hard enough to shatter a normal kneecap.

  Tone's scream let him know the pain was there, but his fluid movements showed that nothing had been broken.

  Standing, Skater set himself and pointed the pistol at Tone's head. "Game's over," he growled. The anger was a chained thing striving to break its limits inside him. He saw two images of the Mafia man; one in normal view, and the other limned in crimson from his own blood.

  Still in a defensive posture. Tone glanced around the nearly empty casino. He smiled derisively. 'That how you want it, hoopfragger? You waving that gun in my face and making me back down?"

  "I'll take it that way," Skater answered. He made no move to wipe away the blood streaming down the side of his face. The Predator didn't waver. "Of course, you don't have to leave it at that. You can try to jump me, and I'll test that dermal sheath you call skin. Let me know if I find any weak spots. But I'm betting I can shoot your eyes out before you reach me."

  "And me," Duran called in a low voice, "I'll cover as much of that action as you want to handle."

  Tone spat at Skater's feet but missed.

  Skater didn't move.

  "You're Skater, right?" Tone said. "You're here because of that elf slitch."

  Skater didn't say anything.

  Tone grinned maliciously. "Had it real bad for her, didn't you? That's what Maddock said."

  Inside him. Skater felt the anger move, growing larger, consuming him.

  Tone visibly relaxed. "You know who killed her, bozo? Anybody give you the lowdown on that?"

  "Don't let him sucker you, kid," Duran advised in a rumbling voice.

  "Frag you, tusker," Tone said. "This is between pretty boy and me." He smiled again. "Let me take that micro-mystery away from you. Skater. I killed your slitch. Put a bullet through her wetware. And by the time I was through with her, she was begging for it."

  The anger devoured Skater completely. Without hesitation, he put the Predator's safety on, then flipped the weapon back to Duran.

  "Kid," the ork said, snatching the weapon out of the air. "Don't try to be no fragging trid hero."

  "No." Skater stepped forward. He was no hero. If he was, he'd have saved Larisa. But he was going to remove that cocky smile from Tone's made-over face.

  "That's right, kid," Tone coaxed, turning the name into an insult, "come kick my hoop. You know you want to so bad you can taste it." He dropped into a defensive posture.

  Skater kept moving.

  31

  As soon as he got within striking distance of Tone, Skater uncoiled, feinting with his left hand toward the main's mid-section, then following up with a wheel-kick with his right foot.

  Tone ignored the feint and went for Skater's foot, trapping it in both his hands. The bigger man wrenched viciously. In response, pain shot up Skater's leg from ankle to hip. He wavered off-balance.

  Before Skater could recover, Tone brought a hammer-blow down against the side of his knee. A heartbeat before the blow landed. Skater was able to turn slightly and deflect it.

  "Hold still, nitbrain," Tone grunted, "and I promise I'll make this as painless as possible." He yanked Skater off-balance again and readied himself for another punch.

  Gathering his strength. Skater leaped up and plowed his free foot into Tone's face. He felt the man's nose break and the grip on his ankle released an instant later.

  Tone yelled in pain, roared curses. Then as Skater pushed himself to his feet, favoring his wrenched ankle. Tone rushed him.

  Crashing into him, he yanked Skater from the ground and propelled him back against the wall. One long-fingered hand gripped Skater under the chin and forced his head back.

  "Fragging drekface." Tone's broken nose dripped bloody strands of mucus down the front of his face. For the moment, the handsome look he'd purchased was erased. "I'm going to kill you, then I'm going to take out the tusker."

  Over Tone's shoulder, Skater saw Duran closing in. "No," he croaked.

  Reluctantly, the ork stopped advancing, but he continued to hold the Scorpion at the ready.

  "Too proud to ask for help, boy?" Tone taunted. His breath pushed into Skater's face in nauseating waves. He gave a short jab that rocked Skater's head, snapping it back against the wall.

  Sparks shimmered through Skater's vision from the double impact. He brought himself back into focus, letting the pain be his guide.

  "You're just begging to get yourself geeked," Tone promised. He brought a knee up into Skater's side and knocked the wind out of him.

  Gasping for his next breath, Skate
r straightened and slipped another jab. Tone's knuckles crashed into the wall.

  "You think you're gonna avenge that elven slitch?" Tone asked. "You think that's gonna bring her back?" He punched again, connecting with Skater's temple. "You're dumb as a bag of hammers if you believe that."

  The force turned Skater's head and he felt another stream of blood running down the side of his face, curling through his hair. He partially blocked the next blow, but it skidded off the back of his head.

  Tone's breath was fetid and sour with alcohol. It gusted hotly into Skater's face as Tone struggled to hit him again. "I come from the streets, dweezle. I'm harder than you, tougher than you, faster than you. Fragging shadowrunner. You never learned how to stand up and fight, did you?"

  Skater blocked the next few blows, running on the adrenaline of the boosted reflexes. Tone was going to beat him. He could feel it.

  "One thing I got to say," Tone stated, "Your slitch put up a better fight than you did."

  The anger swirled within Skater and he went with it, letting it give him some extra kick. "No!" he shouted, and pushed the bigger man back by sheer strength. He blocked Tone's next blow, but the force of it partially numbed his arm. Images of Larisa's corpse intermingled with his other memories. He remembered her telling him that he was Emma's only chance. He remembered his grandfather's words about being the wind. Whether he'd wanted it or not, Larisa had given him roots. Shadowrunning had given him the chance to be the wind, and its call was seductive. No ties, no responsibilities.

  But that wasn't true anymore.

  Whatever possibilities Larisa had represented had been ripped away by Tone-and by whoever gave him his orders. But the baby still existed. She was still out there, almost within reach. He was determined to span the distance.

  Tone came at him again, a whirlwind of augmented punches and kicks that whipped through the air.

  Skater blocked them with increasing ease, finding the groove now. Tone was a force, battering and steady, but not inventive. Skater worked with that, countering, blocking, evading, finding the weak spots, letting the other man wear himself out. He listened, hearing his own breath coming hard in his ears, but Tone's was coming even harder, a bellows over a hot forge.

  Whirling, Tone kicked out.

  Skater ducked under the leg, letting it slide along his blocking arm to partially off-balance the other man, then standing and moving in. His attack arm bent into a vee, then the inside of his elbow smashed against Tone's exposed neck.”

  A strangled cry died in Tone's throat. He staggered and tried to set himself, but his lungs couldn't draw in oxygen.

  If he'd hit much harder. Skater knew he'd have killed the man. He reeled in the anger, making it work for him. Stepping forward, he threw two overhand blows into Tone's face, snapping the man's head back both times. Skater concentrated on his breathing, pulling the air in and keeping himself loose.

  "You're wrong," Skater said as he set himself for a front snap-kick, "I've been fighting all my life." The kick smashed against Tone's broken nose.

  The man screamed out in pain and went over backward.

  Skater brushed the blood out of his eye, clearing his vision some. As Tone pushed himself to his feet, he closed in. Skater kicked him in the face again, then waited until Tone got all the way up this time. "Who hired you?"

  "Go frag yourself," Tone said. He wiped at his face and his hand came away covered with blood.

  "Talk to me." Skater said, closing again. "It's the only way you're walking out of here alive."

  "You talk big, drekface." Tone threw himself at Skater.

  The big man was slower, but his cyber enhancements still made him deadly.

  Skater spun, wasn't there when the other man arrived, and delivered a spinning backfist to Tone's face a heartbeat later.

  Stunned, Tone dropped to his knees, then worked at getting back up.

  Pain filled Skater's body, and his hands and feet ached from the repeated impacts. They were already swelling. "I know about you giving the bag to Silverstaff and his wife."

  Tone threw a punch.

  Skater moved under it easily, and delivered a short jab that cracked Tone's ribs. "I know you hired Ridge Maddock, and I know you leaked the information to him about the Sapphire Seahawk."

  Tone's face went white with pain and he made an obvious effort to focus.

  "I also know you're not smart enough to do any of that on your own. I want the guy behind you." Skater spun, delivering another side kick to Tone's midsection. He worked on chopping the big man down, using his hands and feet to beat a vicious tattoo against every vulnerable part he could find. He didn't let the violence touch him, kept the anger in check, using just enough of it to be relentless.

  In seconds, Tone collapsed to the floor and lay there facedown.

  Skater stepped in and knotted his hand in the man's hair. Using his strength and weight, he pulled Tone to his knees.

  Tone was groggy, batting out with his hands ineffectively.

  Behind the big man now. Skater looped an arm under Tone's chin, putting a palm over the guy's ear on the other side of his head. He slid his other hand down, locking in the hair just above his other ear.

  Tone reached up and tried to pry Skater's hands and arm away.

  Skater maintained the hold, letting Tone feel the strength. He leaned down, breathing harsh in Tone's ear. "How about it? Think I can twist your head off?"

  Tone pulled at the arm shutting off his wind, but couldn’t budge it. His eyes were glazed with fear.

  "Maybe I'll only break your neck," Skater whispered.

  "Bad enough that no body doc can hotwire the damage. Maybe turn you into a quad. We can see." He tightened his grip.”

  "McKenzie," Tone croaked, struggling to take another shuddering breath.

  'Tell me again," Skater said.

  "Conrad McKenzie," Tone replied. "He promised me he'd move me up in his Family after everything was over and the time came. I can't breathe."

  "McKenzie's working with the elves." Skater relaxed his grip slightly.

  "He's working for himself." Tone sucked in a breath

  "He knew about the freighter?"

  "Yeah. And he set up the deal with Silverstaff for the baby."

  "Why did Silverstaff want her?"

  "I don't know. I swear."

  Skater believed him. He stepped away, having to concentrate to keep from stumbling. Looking out across the floor, he saw the casino's yabos standing around. None of them were close enough to have heard Tone's admission.

  "Time to go, kid," Duran said. "Chances are the clientele of this place would be somewhat reluctant to notify Lone Star about what happened here tonight, but stranger things have happened." He came forward and slapped the containment manacles they'd brought on Tone, blocking off the man's access to his cyberware, and a headjammer to nullify any radio or phone link he might have. Then he jerked Tone to his feet.

  Skater took his Predator back and followed Duran and their prisoner out of the casino. He considered McKenzie's involvement, looking for the angles that would allow him to access the man. McKenzie's world turned on money, and with the stocks in ReGEN and the dragon as his silent partner, Skater figured he had the hammer he needed to bring McKenzie down.

  "Ready to hear about Ariadne Silverstaff?" Archangel asked.

  Skater had stepped out of the shower in the suite and was wrapping a towel around his waist. He'd stood under the hot needle spray until most of the aches and all of the blood had disappeared, then followed it up with a cold deluge until he couldn't take it anymore. He felt more awake, but he knew the sensation was false. He was running on adrenaline, and there was little of that left.

  'Tell me," he said.

  Archangel seemed pleased with herself in spite of the fatigue revealed by the dark circles under her eyes. "I searched all through the Tir for mention of her, but Ariadne Silverstaff nee Stonewater doesn't seem to have come into being until just a few years ago. There's a reason for that
."

  Skater nodded in understanding. "Because she didn't exist until a few years ago."

  "Right. You guessed?"

  "Yeah. Put it together on the way over. Tavis Silverstaff has been in the public eye in the Tir since he was a kid. Just like his father before him. If there were any skeletons in the closet, they'd have come out before now."

  "Which left the woman," Archangel said. "But you were figuring something like this before you went to meet Tone."

  "Yeah." Skater ushered Archangel out of the room and shut the door while he dressed, leaving just a crack for them to talk through. Steam covered the mirror.

  Synclair Tone was being held in another room. Wheeler had seen to the damage with a medkit and Elvis had taken care of the incarceration. The Mafia soldier was going nowhere, and was going to live while he did it.

  "It scans as a blackmail squeeze of some sort, otherwise the Silverstaffs would have found a less nefarious adoption agency," Skater said as he pulled on synthdenim pants and a soft gray pullover. He winced as the material grazed some of the injuries he'd taken over the last few days. "What's the bottom line?"

  "Ariadne's not an elf," Archangel said.

  Skater opened the door, picked up his boots and socks, and padded into the living room. He flashed on the face he'd seen on the trid. "She looks like an elf."

  "Cosmetic surgery," Archangel said. "I haven't found out who did it, but I know that's what it's got to be. I also know who she was before she became Ariadne Stonewater."

  The rest of the team was in the living room. Elvis and Trey occupied the long sofa, Duran and Wheeler the chairs. Trays of fruits and sandwiches lay spread across the long, low coffee table, as well as containers of soykaf and tea.

  Skater sat on the couch when Elvis made room. He dropped his boots in front of a steaming plate of noodles. Tasting it and finding it delicious, he realized he was hungrier than he'd thought. He glanced in Trey's direction.

  The mage inclined his head. "My culinary skills improve with the materials that I have to work with."

  "Yes," Skater said. "Thanks."