The Johnson Run

by Kai O'Connal

  Luckily, most of the crowd had already fled out the front entrance. A few stragglers sprinted down the steps, taking two or three at a time in their haste. An ork man in a smoking sport coat misjudged the distance to the last step and caught the edge of it under his heel. He tumbled forward, flattening a dwarf and a human under him before scrambling off them in his hurry to escape. Keandra moved toward the back exit, swerving around the two on the floor as she blazed a path for Lance and E-jekt.

  Once she got around the edge of the stage, she saw the open doorway leading outside. The light was blinding in its intensity after the darkened room; she squinted and raised a hand in front of her face to help filter the brightness. Pushing through the confused throng near the exit, she heard Paz shouting curses at people as she forced a way to the exit from outside.

  “Let’s get the frag out of here!” Paz pushed an elf couple holding each other, shoving both of them aside to create an opening for Keandra and the others.

  Keandra saw a clear path to the nearby van and picked up speed, the sight giving her a burst of energy. She jerked the door open and turned to help Lance load E-jekt while Paz climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Paz took off as they slammed the door shut, swerving back and forth to avoid the clubgoers standing in the back alley. She made liberal use of her horn to shock some back into awareness enough so they didn’t get run over. Keandra tried not to think about the thumps against the side of the van as they barreled out to the main street.

  Once they’d reached it, Paz eased up and merged into regular traffic. Keandra opened and closed her fists several times, shaking out her arms to loosen her tight shoulders. E-jekt propped himself up in the back, his eyes open and clearing. He looked sleepy and confused, and he winced whenever the van hit a bump, but otherwise appeared uninjured.

  Keandra moved over to sit next to him. “Do you know what happened?”

  E-jekt took a deep breath before responding. “Not for sure. The key checked out, but I thought I saw a glitch. I wanted to open the file for a peek and run some integrity checks.” His brow furrowed and he squinted as he tried to remember the details. “When I opened it up, my entire system went haywire. It was like a hacker got hold of my DNI. Whatever it was, it hit harder than some black ice I’ve seen. I dumped myself out as soon as I could. Didn’t want to stay for that ride.”

  E-jekt stared straight ahead, obviously not seeing anything. Keandra glanced at Lance. The worried expression etched on his face matched her own feelings about this scenario.

  She pulled out the disposable commlink and looked it over. The small piece of technology sported scorch marks that looked like they’d originated from inside the casing. The device wouldn’t turn on, and it was clear even to her untrained eye that it was damaged beyond repair. E-jekt might be able to salvage something from it, but she doubted it.

  While the ork stared at the wall of the van, Keandra tried to do a quick assessment. She’d love to give him some time to relax and recover, especially after the shock he’d just gone through, but that wasn’t an option. Every second that passed made it that much harder to track what happened and follow any breadcrumbs to the data they needed. They couldn’t trust anyone else with this, so even if it was painful, she needed his expertise. She touched his arm to get his attention before speaking.

  “Right now I need your complete focus. I need to check any traces at the club to see who hacked us. I also need to see if you can figure out anything from this.”

  She handed him the charred commlink. To her surprise, his grip was strong when he took it from her. The muscles around his jaw tightened as he nodded and then sat up, crossing his legs in front of him. He opened his virtual display and went to work with an intensity Keandra appreciated. She didn’t need to tell him how serious this was; in all reality, he probably knew better than she did.

  Lance gestured for her to come over. When she did, he crouched close enough that she could smell the faint traces of his home-brewed herbal tea on his breath as he whispered into her ear.

  “I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic, but unless he’s able to find that data quick, our life expectancy will take a sharp and sudden decline.”

  “I know that, and so does he,” she replied “It does no good to remind him of it when he needs to be focused on doing something we can’t. All that will do is add stress, which I think he’s had enough of for the moment.”

  “I merely wanted to remind you of the severity of the problem.”

  Keandra almost snapped at him, but held back before the words escaped her lips. He was nervous, just like the rest of them. Turning on each other wouldn’t do them any favors either.

  “He’ll find it. You know he will. He always comes through in the end. We just need to give him some time and stay under the radar until we know what we’re going to do.”

  The drive back to the safehouse was devoid of conversation, everyone focusing on their own thoughts. Every few seconds, Keandra glanced back at E-jekt to see if he had moved. He wasn’t dropped in completely, so he was still aware of his surroundings. His eyes twitched, scanning code and images that only he could see while his fingers were a blur.

  When they arrived at home, E-jekt stayed in his AR world, keeping his head bowed as Keandra and Lance served as escorts, guiding him to the elevators and keeping anyone from getting too close. The decker was aware enough to avoid static obstacles like walls and pillars, but moving obstacles were another matter altogether. Just because he wasn’t in VR didn’t mean he wasn’t distracted.

  They got to their apartment and E-jekt made a beeline for the couch, lying down and letting his body go slack as he jumped into the Matrix completely.

  Keandra kept busy while she waited for news. She made a pot of soykaf for the team, but Paz was the only one to join her. At least it kept her moving, and the smell and warmth of the caffeinated beverage helped soothe her nerves.

  A page on her commlink interrupted that serenity. It was her business line, but managed to bypass her filters and be classified as high priority even though it came from a restricted contact. Curious, she opened up a private chat with the caller.

 

  Keandra’s heart skipped a beat. She dropped her cup, its crash making Paz and Lance snap their attention to her. Hot soykaf splashed over her legs, and she jumped back, then snatched a towel off the rack and wiped at her calves. Even after she’d mopped up the liquid, individual pricks of heat stung where drops struck her.

  “I’m fine. Just got a message from our Johnson wanting an update.”

  Paz’s eyed widened. “That can’t be a coincidence. No. No fucking way. The suit just happens to call right when all this goes down? What are you going to tell ’im?”

  “My thoughts exactly. I just got rattled for a moment—caught me off guard. I can handle this. I’m going to stall. We need to give E-jekt time to find something, find anything, before we can come up with a plan. In the meantime, I’ll run damage control.”

 

  The response was nearly instant.

  Before Keandra could process the message, let alone think of a response, the connection was severed. That meant this wasn’t a negotiation or a request; i
t was an order. And one Mr. Johnson expected her to comply with.

  “Well, I guess I won’t be able to stall as much as I hoped.”

  Paz’s surprised look morphed into a scowl. “I don’t like that look on your face. It’s the one when something bad’s about to happen, and you’re gonna tell us it isn’t that bad, and you’ve got a plan. ’Course, the plan doesn’t always work. But that’s why I always carry extra ammo.”

  “You’re right, something bad is going to happen. Mr. Johnson wants a meeting and a progress report, and has already arranged a reservation at Elliot’s. He’s never wanted to meet during the day before, and he’s never set the meeting time out of the blue like this. Everything’s always been planned well in advance and fit into a nice little package. Hell, he’s never actually called me before. We’ve only ever met in person or through anonymous one-way postings on the Matrix. They have to know about what happened with the job. There’s no other explanation.”

  E-jekt sat up and rubbed his gnarled hands over his face, stretching the skin and digging in with his fingernails. Keandra dropped the towel on the counter and came over to him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lance drift over and start picking up the pieces of the shattered cup, using the towel to clean up the rest of the soykaf puddle.

  “What’d you find out?” she asked, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. Looks like the damage done to the commlink, the club, and me all came from the busted commlink.”

  Keandrea frowned. “You think it was trapped? Some new type of data bomb or something?”

  E-jekt shook his head and dropped his hands to his legs. He took a deep breath before continuing. Lance poured him a cup of soykaf and held it out. E-jekt took it with a nod of thanks as he sank back into the couch cushions with the steaming cup cradled in his hands.

  “Not a data bomb. Something in the file itself. Some sprite was attached to it, and as soon as it got a valid network connection, it jumped through that and torched everything in the immediate vicinity. Whoever wrote it probably hoped that would make it difficult to track and figure out where it went. Kind of like escaping in the confusion. It would have fried my commlink too, if it weren’t for all my failsafe mechanisms. Still, I’m going to be feeling this one for days. Like I told you, I’ve met nicer black ice than this thing. Whoever coded it is an absolute genius.”

  “But can you track it?”

  “I think so. It won’t be easy, though. It literally fried the circuits at Syberspace. They’ll have to spend a fortune to bring the club back online. But I managed to piece together part of a digital signature. There’s still a few pieces left, and once I have that I can start scouring the Matrix, looking for the data. It has to be somewhere. Something with a sprite that powerful isn’t going to just disappear. We just need to find where it’s programmed to go.”

  Keandra nodded. “Good. I need you to stay here and work on that. Paz will keep you company.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Mr. Johnson called. He wants an update.”

  9

  Keandra couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this nervous before a meeting. Even when she had to deliver bad news or deal with an angry employer, she always had an ace up her sleeve—something she could use as a bargaining chip to help turn things in her favor. But right now she had nothing, and she was about to ask for more time from a very dangerous man without letting him know his data might be lost forever. It was not an exciting prospect.

  Nonetheless, the meeting was going to happen—the only thing worse than delivering bad news was not showing up to deliver it at all. Keandra dressed well, using her physical appearance as a shield to hide her misgivings and insecurity. Lance accompanied her as always, equal parts to maintain the persona and be security. His presence made her feel safe, even if the current battlefield had very little to do with physical confrontation.

  As they approached the restaurant, a nervous twitch raced down Keandra’s spine. Glancing around and taking in all the details, she realized why. Francis wasn’t working the front desk. She had grown accustomed to seeing his face here whenever she arranged a meeting. While it was a few hours earlier than her usual arrival, it still seemed odd. She doubted the restaurant had one maître d’ for the early diners and another for the later arrivals. That would be excessive, even for Elliot’s.

  “Miss Tiernay, thank you for joining us. If you’ll follow me—your host has already arrived.” The current maître d’ was a small elf who exuded slipperiness from his oiled hair to his guarded body language. His demeanor was discomforting, and she didn’t trust him in the slightest.

  The man led her up the steps into the restaurant, where several groups of people were enjoying their meals. As she followed her escort, she looked him over, taking in every detail. A few displays popped up in her AR as E-jekt analyzed the data. It was nice having him active once again for these meetings. Everything about the host looked normal, except for his shoes. Judging from the information E-jekt scrounged up, they were a hand-tooled cut of a designer print, easily costing well several thousand nuyen—and well out of the price range of a maître d’, even for an upscale restaurant like this one.

  Armed with this information, Keandra surreptitiously scanned the crowd, letting E-jekt take some time to process the data. The waitstaff all checked out, all of them broadcasting legal SINs that were easy to identify and process. That, plus nothing seemed out of the ordinary in their attire or presentation. So it was just the maître d’, then. Why would that be important, and why would Mr. Johnson want to replace him?

  To her surprise, several groups were dining on the patio. Four tables were spaced out, three occupied by diners in the middle of their meals. Mr. Johnson was nowhere to be seen. When she hesitated, her escort turned around and gestured for her to follow him.

  “This way, Miss Tiernay. Your host has reserved the private club room for the evening.”

  If her nerves were on edge before, the elf’s words set them on fire. She managed to keep her breathing normal and flashed a smile as she dipped her head, indicating he should lead on. She fell into step behind him, trying to process this new information.

  Perhaps the reservation on the patio wasn’t fesaible because of previous obligations, but Keandra doubted it. That wasn’t something that bothered people like Mr. Johnson. He had more than enough resources and sway to have arranged the restaurant exactly to his liking. Was this just a show of his power, then? A move to demonstrate how insignificant she was in comparison, and remind her how much backing he had? That was the most logical conclusion. Regardless, it didn’t change the game she had to play, nor her goals.

  At the stairs leading up to the second floor, a large troll stepped to the side and unhooked the velvet rope to let them access the upper loft. She’d never been up here before, and this was the first time she’d seen it roped off in all of her business appointments over the years. The maître d’ left her here, indicating with a wave of his hand for her to go up the stairs. Keandra took the first two, and then stopped and turned when she heard a quiet tussle behind her.

  The troll held his arm in front of Lance, blocking him at chest level as he climbed up after Keandra. The burly guard shook his head and moved to put the velvet rope back in place.

  Lance tensed and glanced up at Keandra, looking for some sort of sign. She gave a subtle shake of her head and he backed down, removing his foot from the step. Starting a fight now would give away her fear and discomfort. Keandra climbed the stairs alone, not sure what exactly would be waiting for her at the top.

  The stairs ended at a single door, beyond which was the private dining chamber. It was an expansive area, designed to host parties of up to fifty people comfortably. One entire wall was made of glass, looking out over the Sound and the docks. A large table dominated the center of the room, with chairs spaced evenly along both sides. Another wall was dedicated to a wine rack, the bottles angled so the labels could be
read. Each bottle was stored behind glass designed to keep the treasures inside safe from the ravages of time or sunlight. Small tables dotted the lengths of the other walls.

  Mr. Johnson sat at the center of the table, on the side facing the door so Keandra was looking at him as she entered. With the exception of his regular bodyguard, the room was otherwise empty. As the door closed behind her, it drowned out the sounds of the restaurant below, and a moment of utter stillness filled the air before Mr. Johnson stood.

  “Welcome, Miss Tiernay. I appreciate your being able to meet me on such short notice. I hope you will forgive me for the imposition, since I realize it is highly unusual, given our normal arrangements.”

  He gestured to the seat across from him, and Keandra walked to it. Three opened wine bottles sat on the table in front of her place, all the labels turned so she could read them. When Mr. Johnson took his seat, she turned her attention toward the labels, pretending to study them. Display of power it was, then.

  “I agree. This situation has been most unusual. When dealing with people in my line of work, sudden shifts in schedule and expectations can put one on edge and cause suspicion. Plus, there is normal protocol to observe. I notice we are not alone, but my bodyguard was not allowed to accompany me. Should I be concerned?”

  Keandra looked Mr. Johnson in the eye and raised a single eyebrow. She held the gesture for the space of a heartbeat, then turned back to the wine, selecting one at random and pouring it into the glass in front of her rather than waiting for a member of the waitstaff to come along and handle it for her. She picked up the glass and swirled it gently, taking a sniff as she stared over it at her employer. The bouquet was heady, with a hint of plum.

  “I assure you, there is no need for concern. The policy of the restaurant, I am afraid–not my own. No weapons are allowed within this room, and I would not suggest to your bodyguard that he leave his armament behind. My associate agreed to forego the tools of his trade so he could be present. A security measure, nothing more.”