The Johnson Run

by Kai O'Connal

  Lance didn’t respond except to pick up E-jekt’s limp body. The old hacker groaned and his eyes fluttered. He was alive, but how long he stayed that way depended on them getting off corporate property in a hurry. Lance cinched a strap around his and E-jekt’s waists, connecting the two of them. He hobbled over to the window, looking like some strange bi-meta conjoined twin, while the two women braced the table against the solid thudding of a portable battering ram. Lance fell out of the window, and Keandra hoped he got enough distance from the tower.

  “You next. I got this.” Paz’s legs and arms let out soft whirrs as they locked into place.

  The wood door splintered, making Keandra flinch as she stood up, ready to follow Paz’s order. She sprinted to the hole in the window and dove through, spreading her arms out to slow her fall as much as possible so she could get her bearings. Below her and almost half a block away was Lance; he had already deployed his chute and looked close to touching down. Keandra angled herself in his direction and pressed her arms against her body, plummeting through the sky to gain speed and distance. If she knew Paz, there would be a significant surprise left behind for those who broke down the door.

  Sure enough, a loud explosion went off behind her, followed by the sound of splintering glass. Her distance saved her from the heat and shockwave of the blast, so she pulled the cord to deploy her chute. She came down hard, rolling when she hit the pavement to keep from breaking an ankle or a leg.

  A few people on the street ran away as Keandra and her team dropped into their midst. The explosion gathered a bit of a crowd, but none wanted to be around when the authorities showed up. Or else they didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. Either way, the street became deserted except for her and Lance cutting himself free from the tangled mess of his chute. Already she heard DocWagon’s sirens; E-jekt would be in good hands soon. It cost a fortune, but she never doubted the worth of it. Few runners did.

  With the thud behind her that she felt as much as heard, Keandra knew Paz escaped. The pavement cracked from the force of the dwarf’s impact, but it didn’t slow her. She sprinted to the van, already using her connection to bring it online and get the engine started. Keandra hurried to the other two members of her team.

  She took E-jekt from Lance and laid him gently at the edge of the street while Lance collected and coiled up their chutes. They were generic, but any proof left behind could lead back to them in ways they never considered. They left nothing to chance.

  E-jekt’s breathing was steady, but his eyes refused to focus. One hand still pressed tight to the wound in his side. It looked like the bleeding slowed, but a small trickle continued to run and the copper odor permeated the air.

  E-jekt squeezed Keandra’s shoulder with his other hand; its lack of strength concerned her. “Easy, huh? We’re getting too old for this.”

  “I know, friend. Take it easy. DocWagon’s almost here.”

  The lights of the emergency vehicle reflected off the buildings across the street. Tires squealed as the medivac took a sharp corner. Keandra gave E-jekt’s hand a final tight squeeze before resting it against his chest.

  “We’ll meet you at the safehouse. They’ll have you patched up in no time.”

  He smiled and Keandra turned away, rushing to the van. Lance stood in the back next to their collected gear. One hand rested on the door handle, ready to slam it shut as soon as she got inside. Keandra vaulted the small step and rolled in the tangle of chutes as Paz took off. Lance closed the door, and for a few moments, Keandra allowed herself to rest in the darkness with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths. When she felt her heart slow its erratic rate, she crawled out of the fabric and up to the passenger’s seat.

  By now, Paz drove through the streets of Seattle with deliberation. They were far enough from the towers for normal traffic to resume, giving them the opportunity to blend in with the regular Friday night commuters. Keandra pulled down the visor and fixed her appearance. They weren’t scheduled to meet with the Johnson for hours, but she believed in being prepared at all times. They had a reputation to maintain, and even a casual glance from a passing vehicle could ruin that for them. If anyone recognized her, she needed to look presentable and professional.

  Once satisfied, Keandra checked E-jekt’s commlink. It pinged from Group Health Central Hospital. She let out another deep sigh and collapsed into her seat, sinking in as much as the stiff leather would allow. “He’s at the hospital, still in one piece.”

  “You know, I bitch whenever that bill comes up, but I gotta hand it to those DocWagon suits. They got some damn good drivers and are worth every nuyen. Glad the old man’s gonna be fine. Sticking with the original plan?” Paz glanced at Keandra without turning her head.

  “Yes. I can’t meet our Johnson smelling like gunpowder and blood, so I need a change of clothes. There’s only so much I can do from here.”

  “He’s gonna be pissed every suit and his brother’s gonna hear about what we did tonight. Didn’t he say he wanted it quiet?”

  “You let me handle that.”

  From the back of the van, Lance chuckled just loud enough to be heard.

  2

  The clock read 8:20 pm as Keandra pulled into the parking lot of Elliot’s. The meeting wasn’t scheduled to start until eight forty-five, but Keandra wanted to set the scene to her advantage. She was thankful that at this point in her career, she had her beautification routine down to a science. It was her specialty, no different than Paz going to the gun range. Tonight she scrubbed her pale skin clean and smoothed over any wrinkles. She had pulled her wavy black hair into a tight braid and rested it over one shoulder. Her dress was modest and modern, an indirect sign of one who could afford to pay attention to fashion for those who were knowledgeable about such things. She doctored her appearance to showcase her professionalism and class with even a glance. Thankfully, she aged more gracefully than E-jekt.

  She took a moment to do a final review while waiting for the valet to reach her car door. When he opened it, she extended a hand and slid out with the grace of a dancer. On the passenger’s side, Lance exited and walked around the rear to meet her. She took the lead, with him following just half a step behind, the human socialite and her elf bodyguard. It was a role they played well, and served them better.

  As she climbed the half set of stairs, she took a quick glance around to survey her surroundings. Granted, she wouldn’t pick up as much intel as usual, since E-jekt was still out of commission. Paz should be with him by now, making sure everything was okay. Keandra blinked and fought the urge to shake her head as she forced herself to focus on the surroundings and not be distracted. Everything was taken care of to the best of their abilities.

  The crowd waiting in front of the maître d’ consisted of the standard selection of the population she’d anticipated: mid-level corporate workers, a state judge with an escort, and a young elf couple who reeked of excess. The corporate group occupied the entire center of the hallway leading up to the maître d’s stand, and Keandra stopped just before reaching their group. She wouldn’t maneuver her way through them. She had time to spare. One of the human men turned to her and offered a smile that would have made her skin crawl if she bothered to notice it. Instead, she kept her gaze focused through the group, looking past them.

  Her presence made the man shift his weight from one foot to the other, and the smile faded from his face. He looked back to his friends and they chuckled behind upraised hands. Clenching his jaw, he whirled back to her and opened his mouth to say something. Before he got a word out, the well-dressed ork maître d’ appeared behind him and forced him out of the way with a shove that knocked him into a few of his companions. The small tangle collided with the wall next to the elven couple.

  “I apologize for making you wait, Miss Tiernay. If you’ll come this way, your table has been prepared. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

  Keandra took the ork’s offered hand, giving a small dip of her head as she did so. The smile on
her face was genuine.

  “Think nothing of it, Francis. I only just arrived. Your service is, as always, impeccable.”

  He smiled and seemed to blush a little at her compliment, but with orks it was always difficult to tell. The limited lighting didn’t make it any easier. As soon he opened the doors to the restaurant proper, a wave of heat and sound washed over Keandra; she felt herself flush and her body threatened to start sweating.

  As her gaze meandered around the tables, a flood of information about the other diners assaulted Keandra’s cybereyes. Her programs still ran, collecting data about every person she saw. Without E-jekt’s sprites filtering the data and collecting it in a database, it was too much for her brain to process. She forced herself to ignore the information, and focused only on what was physically around her. She also made a mental note she’d need to turn off the information scrubbers before the Johnson arrived.

  Francis led them to the far side of the restaurant and opened one of the glass doors to a patio overlooking the Sound. The gust of cool air felt great on her skin even as it raised goosebumps on her exposed arms. They both stepped outside and Keandra saw that only one table was set on the patio. Even without her special reservation, the patio no longer appeared a popular choice among regular diners. The dropping temperatures did make certain aspects of her job easier.

  “The waiter will be along presently. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to notify the front desk. We are at your service.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Francis.”

  He gave a final smile and a bow, closing the door behind him as he returned to the heated room. Once the door was shut, all the noise cut off abruptly. The only sounds were the wind and the lapping of water as it splashed against the hulls of a few boats moored nearby. Keandra walked to the railing and took a deep breath, appreciating the heavy salt smell on the air. She stared at the lights of several ships in the Sound, each one reflected in the dark water below.

  After a few moments enjoying the view, she returned to the table and took her seat. She chose the chair that put her back to the only door leading to the patio. Mr. Johnson would want to keep the entrance and exit in view at all times. If he had his back to it, he would be uncomfortable and suspicious, which would make him harder to negotiate with. He was already bound to be disappointed with their performance. In order to smooth out the situation, Keandra needed him as comfortable as possible.

  Lance took up a position on the far side of the door, standing straight and crossing his arms but not leaning against the wall. Keandra knew he would stand like that all night if he wasn’t needed. His body control was thorough enough for him to remain as still as a statue for hours at a time. His position was deliberate. Far enough away that Mr. Johnson would know Keandra was protected, but not so close to threaten their employer.

  A waiter came out on the patio carrying a standing bucket filled with ice and a bottle tucked under his arm. He placed the stand next to Keandra’s table and presented the bottle so she could read the label. A natural Chardonnay with no synthetic modifications or additions. It was pricey, but it was also Mr. Johnson’s favorite. She nodded and the waiter slipped the bottle back into the bucket, twisting it until half the label sat submerged under the ice. The staff at Elliot’s knew better than to open the bottle until her guest arrived. He would make a show of inspecting it like a connoisseur, even if the only thing he was checking was that it had not been tampered with.

  “Is there anything else you need?”

  Keandra smiled and shook her head. “That’s all for now. Thank you.”

  The waiter bowed and left, closing the door behind him and once more shutting out the restaurant noise. For a few seconds, Keandra enjoyed the peaceful night and forced herself to relax. The tension from their earlier run continued to creep through her entire body like a contagion. All she had to do was handle one small negotiation and then it would be time to move on.

  But move on to what was the question. Another job? Another run where they dodged gunfire and barely managed to get out by jumping out of a window? While it was true that they were an accomplished runner team, sooner or later everyone’s card came up. Security was always improving while their bodies were degrading, except perhaps for Paz—her body might technically be improving. Nonetheless, the weight of her forty-four years burdened Keandra like a stone collar, and she felt an exhaustion extending beyond their recent adventure.

  While she waited, she accessed her commlink and connected to the private network shared by her team. She needed an update from Paz.

  she texted.

 

 

 

  Lance replied.

 

  Keandra’s commlink pinged an alert that her guest arrived and was being escorted to her table. She silently thanked Francis for his diligence. It was one of the many reasons she loved using the venue.

 

  Keandra put her commlink away and folded her hands on the table, forming the perfect picture of etiquette and form. She heard the door open behind her, but did not turn around at the sound. She waited until Mr. Johnson came into her field of view before she acknowledged him. He was an older human, easily in his fifties, but possessed a strength and vitality of someone still in his early twenties. Working for a AAA company certainly came with its benefits.

  She stood up and extended her hand. He took it in both of his and offered a small bow while his bodyguard maneuvered around them to pull out his boss’s chair. Keandra didn’t know his name, but she did know it was the same bodyguard who always accompanied Mr. Johnson on these transactions. She detected the slight bulge of a firearm underneath the human’s jacket, also no different than she expected.

  “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Tiernay. It is always enjoyable to have these chats with you.”

  Keandra scanned his face as he spoke, searching for any sign of how he really felt. There was a slight twitch to his cheek that made the skin around his eyes tighten when he said the word ‘pleasure,’ but other than that, he gave her nothing to go on. He was good at this game, as she both expected and knew from personal experience. Otherwise, he never would’ve reached the status he currently held.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Johnson. I’ve ordered your favorite.”

  She gestured toward the bottle chilling in the ice bucket. As he picked it up to examine it, she took her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, Keandra saw a faint shimmer on the other side of the glass separating them from the rest of the diners. The AR screen shielded their conversation from any prying eyes. For the moment, they had their privacy.

  Mr. Johnson finished his inspection of the wine bottle and handed it behind him without looking at his bodyguard. Then he sat down, folding his hands on the table and staring at Keandra. She refused to yield under the scrutiny of his stare as he attempted to ferret out her secrets just as she had done moments before. She smiled and held out her glass once the bodyguard opened the bottle. He served her first, and then his employer. Keandra raised her glass.

  “To good business.”

  She took a sip, noticing that Mr. Johnson waited until she swallowed and put her glass on the table before lifting his own to his lips. It was nice to know she had earned so much trust over their years of working together. Then
again, it wasn’t a surprise. If he behaved any differently, it would have made her nervous. Up to this point, everything proceeded according to her expectations.

  “Speaking of business, I heard there were some difficulties.”

  Keandra kept her smile consistent and easy without forcing it. She wouldn’t give him any indication of how ugly things had gotten.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle. After all, you specifically requested our services because of our ability to handle difficulties.”

  “The report I received indicated a violent response and some trespassers dealt with. Nothing was stolen and the company suffered a minimal amount of collateral damage.”

  “Since when have you ever known a security company to confess to an utter failure on their part?”

  Keandra deepened her smile and cocked an eyebrow before picking up her glass and taking another sip. It was cool and smooth, with just a hint of fruity acidity as it slid down her throat.

  Mr. Johnson leaned forward in his chair. The motion was subtle, and Keandra noticed it by the tightening of his suit coat around his elbows.

  “You were able to complete your objective?”

  For a few seconds, Keandra stalled by savoring the wine. It wasn’t completely an act—it really was an excellent vintage. But she wanted to enjoy the moment a bit longer as well. She couldn’t let the bait hang out for too long, but even the brief second of holding the upper hand brought her no small amount of glee. She let her glass hang from her fingertips and swirled it in front of her, dropping her gaze to focus on the liquid climbing its walls. From this viewpoint she could still make out every detail of Mr. Johnson, but it gave the appearance of inferiority. He was not a man who dealt well with being in a weaker position and assuaging his discomfort mattered.

  “Of course,” she said at last. “I would not have handled our meeting with the original arrangements if it was only going to lead to disappointment.”