Prologue: Milk Run
The room was nearly empty. The dismal lack of furniture was matched by the bare, concrete walls. It was located in an abandoned warehouse on 272nd and Dodge; so far out on the fringes of the Omaha Metroplex that it rarely ever saw Lone Star patrols. The only two things even in the room were a bedroll and a man.
The man sat cross-legged on the floor, all the more interesting because he wore a very expensive silk suit. In his lap, was cradled a cyberdeck - a modified Fuchi-6. The model was outdated, surpassed almost 10 years ago, but it's guts were state-o'-the-fraggin'-art. Since he was a kid, the man had been interested in computers. His parents, rich, only left him a million nuyen, just enough to start him on his current path, when they were killed. The Star said it was a random killing. The boy, in his late teens, smelled a corp.
Banishing that line of thought from his mind, he opened his eyes. His hand slipped down to flip open the side panel on his cyberdeck. It fell open easily due to its frequent use since he purchased it, those many years ago. The well-used cord fell out, and he took the small jack at the end into his left hand. With a steeled look and a deep, cleansing breath, he slowly and deliberately raised the jack and inserted it into the plug behind his left ear.
His perception shifted to that familiar, ultra-vivid glow of his own personal matrix filter. He was in 17th century France, one of the King's own musketeers. He looked down. His rapier hung at his belt and his uniform was crisp on his body. He looked up at the horizon, satisfied that everything was as it should be, and began walking toward the keep on the horizon that was the Omaha Seretech Offices.
* * * * * *
Skidz sat in the van a block away from the building. Jacked in, he could feel the thrum of the idle engine beating in time with his heart. The 21-year-old rigger waited on com, watching for signs of Lone Star or Seretech security.
Next to him, in a swivel chair, sat Shadowchaser. The elf sat eyes a blank mask matching his pale face. He looked up, finally, and exclaimed, "I've got it!"
Skidz, anticipating what was coming, rolled his eyes. He hated playing along, thought it little more than an annoyance, but to be polite, he bit anyway. Everyone had to have a vice. "What?"
"Dunkelzahn." Shadowchaser replied, grinning.
"What about him?" sighed Skidz.
"It was the Druids that did him." Shadowchaser stated, smugly.
"Oh frag it, man! Will you stop that?" Skidz snapped.
"What?! He was letting out too much with that trideo show of his. Since the druids and the Alliance are responsible for keeping the metaplane door shut." Shadowchaser said defensively.
"There you go with that Alliance stuff again. You know, you shouldn't take everything you read on that board seriously."
"There is nothing wrong with Secrets Decksposed. It's merely an informative."
At that moment, the van's side door slid open with a thud and 2 bodies leaped in, one short, one long, and slammed the door shut behind them.
"Thank you," breathed Skidz.
"Conspiracy Theorists of the world, unite?" asked the dwarf. Skidz nodded.
"Stow it, Pirate. Who asked you anyway?" pouted Shadowchaser.
"Whaddya got?" asked Skidz.
"The perimeter's clear, and all looks quiet. The entrance we scoped wasn't guarded by anything except cameras and a maglock. If Io can pop those, we should be in business," said the tall man.
"Scratch, when is it ever that simple? If it were, why would corps ever need us?" Skidz commented.
"Hey, I prefer to be an optimist," Scratch said, a little self- righteously.
Pirate cocked his Remington Roomsweeper, "I prefer to stay alive."
* * * * * *
Night settled on the French countryside as Io crept up to the keep. Keeping in the trees, he remained alert for any signs that his presence had been detected. Two guards circled the parapet at regular intervals, looking over the countryside for intruders. Io felt confident that he could get in without being seen. One of his contacts, Jimmy - a fixer, had given him some info on a possible backdoor, although he did not know the passcode. No matter, Io was one of the best codebreakers in the Matrix, barring the greats - Anubis, Count Zero, Fastjack, etc.
He ran up to the stone wall of the keep, out of the view of both of the guards. The backdoor actually didn't look like a door at all - merely a keyhole in the wall. Io took out his lockpicks and went to work. In short order he had picked the lock and a door carved itself out of the side of the keep, swinging inward. Io looked up to make sure he hadn't been seen by the guards and stepped inside. The stone door closed behind him. He moved through the keep to another outer wall where a door was located. The door was locked from the inside and a guard was at a watch hole next to it, looking outside, with his back to Io. He wasted no time in stepping up behind the guard and slipping his rapier between the guard's shoulder blades. The guard disappeared. Io unlocked the door, then looked out the watch hole and winked. He then moved back down the hallway and began a quiet search of the floor, looking for other denizens of the Biotechnology Firm's keep.
* * * * * *
The observation drone that Skidz had set to watch the camera registered the blinking light underneath the lens. He turned to his comrades; "Io has control. Time to go."
Scratch, Pirate, and Shadowchaser all got out of the van and hurriedly moved to the door, which was now unlocked. "I told you that decker was good," remarked Pirate as he pulled open the door.
Scratch didn't dignify the jab with a reply, but led the way into the building. The room they were going to was just down the hall a ways and with his low-light vision, Scratch didn't see anything in the hall. The trio crept quietly toward the objective, a laboratory where Seretech was conducting some new drug research. They had been hired to simply deliver a vial from this laboratory to their employer, Mr. Johnson. That was not his real name, of course. One of the rules of the biz was that the employer did everything he could to remain anonymous. They tended to live longer that way. The shadowrunners, in turn, tried to find out everything they could about their employer so that they could try and deduce whether or not they had been given all the facts. In this case, like so many others, that search had turned up absolutely nothing. The runners had accepted the job anyway, after having done some homework about it, because they were confident that they could deal with any unforeseen threats that arose. That was two days ago. Here and now, where the metal meets the meat, they simply had to hope for the best.
Once at the door to the lab, Scratch tried to open it. No dice. He looked up at the camera about 10 feet down the hallway and tapped his feet. After about 3 seconds, there was an audible click and Scratch opened the door. The trio stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
Johnson had told them that the vial they were looking for would be in a refrigeration unit in the room. The vial was labeled "V3 trial 2". There were several refrigeration units in the room, but it wasn't long before Pirate spoke up. "I found it."
"Great! Let's get the frag outta here," said Scratch.
As the trio moved toward the door, however,.
* * * * * *
.the drek hit the fan.
Somewhere within the keep, a chorus of trumpets began blaring and suddenly the keep was awash with activity. Io heard more footsteps than he wanted to count coming down from upstairs. Then he was running. He ran past the hallway with the side door he had unlocked and caught a brief glance of 5 armed guards, rapiers drawn, with one more at the watch hole. He ran past toward the back door, but skidded to a stop when another 5 armed guards and one captain confronted him. Oh drek, oh drek, oh drek! Instantly his rapier leapt to his hand and he was fighting for his life.
Two of the guards went down quickly, as Io fought with lightning speed. The remaining 3, however, were not proving as easy. It was then that he heard a small click. He glanced up toward the captain who had a pistol cocked and pointed at his head. Io did the only thing he could think of to do.
The man in the cement room snapped out of the trance that he was in and instantly recoiled from the incessant pounding in his head. The "kill" switch he had installed on his cyberdeck was blinking due to its use. He had made a wise investment, for a headache is infinitely more preferable than a dirt nap 6-feet under.
Doing his best to ignore the incessant pain in his head, he grabbed his cyberdeck and bedroll, and went outside to his car. Flipping the autopilot switch, he began his trip back to the safehouse, hoping his friends would get lucky.
* * * * * *
Shadowchaser stopped them all with a gesture. "Voices. Down the hall. They're getting closer." What he heard next, however, made his blood run cold. Listening through the door, he heard what sounded like many heavy weapons being cocked. Pirate must have heard it too, because he instantly began muttering under his breath, "Frag it, frag it, frag it!"
All three of them began looking around the room for another way out. The only thing apparent was going through the ceiling and trying to find another room to be in.preferrably one with a window. They all climbed up, went through the lowered ceiling tiles, and began crawling in the direction that they thought would lead them toward a wall. Over the com, the team heard Skidz in a panicked voice. "Guys, time to go. I've got drones all over my hoop. Star is probably en route."
"Not now, Skidz. Security's here. Working on an exit. Leave if you have to," said Scratch.
"Oh, drek. Roger that," Skidz replied.
"Shadow, a distraction would be helpful right about now," said Pirate, worried about the security forces below them. It wouldn't take them long to figure out where the trio had gone.
"Way ahead of you, shorty." A few muttered words later, the runners heard a large screech further down the hallway they were above. Several footsteps ran off toward it and in the distance, several heavy weapons could be heard firing. The runners crawled over the hallway, careful to not make a sound, as there were likely still Seretech security guards below. Having made it to another room, they removed the ceiling panel and dropped down. Scratch immediately moved to the window. After looking at it for a couple of seconds, he looked at Pirate and nodded.
Pirate moved to the window and began wiring it with plastique. Scratch turned to Shadowchaser. "You're in the middle. Pirate'll go first, then you and I'll bat cleanup. Move fast and quiet. Let's get out of this in one piece, then we'll figure it out." Shadowchaser nodded.
Pirate turned and moved quickly away from the window toward a large, heavy lab table. "Fire in the hole," he said, emotionless, professional. He blew the window and immediately ran toward it and leaped through to the pavement outside, drawing his Remington as he did. Shadowchaser went next and as Scratch moved to jump out the window, the door burst open. The guard only saw a shape moving toward the window before the 9mm shell entered his brain. Scratch dove out the window after his companions.
Outside, 3 guards were waiting. Two of them were drawing their weapons and one was lying on the pavement on his back, the bullet wound from Pirate's Remington leaving a bloody red stain on the cement. The other two guards might have created problems for the two runners if behind them Scratch had not gotten through the window shooting. The two guards were dead before they could even draw their weapons. Scratch picked up Shadowchaser and looked at Pirate. "Move it!"
Pirate turned to follow Scratch in running for the open streets, but not before he had pitched a frag grenade in the now open window. As the runners melted back into the shadows, The grenade blew up the flammable chemicals in the lab, lighting up that section of downtown Omaha. The shadows didn't even notice.
The room was nearly empty. The dismal lack of furniture was matched by the bare, concrete walls. It was located in an abandoned warehouse on 272nd and Dodge; so far out on the fringes of the Omaha Metroplex that it rarely ever saw Lone Star patrols. The only two things even in the room were a bedroll and a man.
The man sat cross-legged on the floor, all the more interesting because he wore a very expensive silk suit. In his lap, was cradled a cyberdeck - a modified Fuchi-6. The model was outdated, surpassed almost 10 years ago, but it's guts were state-o'-the-fraggin'-art. Since he was a kid, the man had been interested in computers. His parents, rich, only left him a million nuyen, just enough to start him on his current path, when they were killed. The Star said it was a random killing. The boy, in his late teens, smelled a corp.
Banishing that line of thought from his mind, he opened his eyes. His hand slipped down to flip open the side panel on his cyberdeck. It fell open easily due to its frequent use since he purchased it, those many years ago. The well-used cord fell out, and he took the small jack at the end into his left hand. With a steeled look and a deep, cleansing breath, he slowly and deliberately raised the jack and inserted it into the plug behind his left ear.
His perception shifted to that familiar, ultra-vivid glow of his own personal matrix filter. He was in 17th century France, one of the King's own musketeers. He looked down. His rapier hung at his belt and his uniform was crisp on his body. He looked up at the horizon, satisfied that everything was as it should be, and began walking toward the keep on the horizon that was the Omaha Seretech Offices.
* * * * * *
Skidz sat in the van a block away from the building. Jacked in, he could feel the thrum of the idle engine beating in time with his heart. The 21-year-old rigger waited on com, watching for signs of Lone Star or Seretech security.
Next to him, in a swivel chair, sat Shadowchaser. The elf sat eyes a blank mask matching his pale face. He looked up, finally, and exclaimed, "I've got it!"
Skidz, anticipating what was coming, rolled his eyes. He hated playing along, thought it little more than an annoyance, but to be polite, he bit anyway. Everyone had to have a vice. "What?"
"Dunkelzahn." Shadowchaser replied, grinning.
"What about him?" sighed Skidz.
"It was the Druids that did him." Shadowchaser stated, smugly.
"Oh frag it, man! Will you stop that?" Skidz snapped.
"What?! He was letting out too much with that trideo show of his. Since the druids and the Alliance are responsible for keeping the metaplane door shut." Shadowchaser said defensively.
"There you go with that Alliance stuff again. You know, you shouldn't take everything you read on that board seriously."
"There is nothing wrong with Secrets Decksposed. It's merely an informative."
At that moment, the van's side door slid open with a thud and 2 bodies leaped in, one short, one long, and slammed the door shut behind them.
"Thank you," breathed Skidz.
"Conspiracy Theorists of the world, unite?" asked the dwarf. Skidz nodded.
"Stow it, Pirate. Who asked you anyway?" pouted Shadowchaser.
"Whaddya got?" asked Skidz.
"The perimeter's clear, and all looks quiet. The entrance we scoped wasn't guarded by anything except cameras and a maglock. If Io can pop those, we should be in business," said the tall man.
"Scratch, when is it ever that simple? If it were, why would corps ever need us?" Skidz commented.
"Hey, I prefer to be an optimist," Scratch said, a little self- righteously.
Pirate cocked his Remington Roomsweeper, "I prefer to stay alive."
* * * * * *
Night settled on the French countryside as Io crept up to the keep. Keeping in the trees, he remained alert for any signs that his presence had been detected. Two guards circled the parapet at regular intervals, looking over the countryside for intruders. Io felt confident that he could get in without being seen. One of his contacts, Jimmy - a fixer, had given him some info on a possible backdoor, although he did not know the passcode. No matter, Io was one of the best codebreakers in the Matrix, barring the greats - Anubis, Count Zero, Fastjack, etc.
He ran up to the stone wall of the keep, out of the view of both of the guards. The backdoor actually didn't look like a door at all - merely a keyhole in the wall. Io took out his lockpicks and went to work. In short order he had picked the lock and a door carved itself out of the side of the keep, swinging inward. Io looked up to make sure he hadn't been seen by the guards and stepped inside. The stone door closed behind him. He moved through the keep to another outer wall where a door was located. The door was locked from the inside and a guard was at a watch hole next to it, looking outside, with his back to Io. He wasted no time in stepping up behind the guard and slipping his rapier between the guard's shoulder blades. The guard disappeared. Io unlocked the door, then looked out the watch hole and winked. He then moved back down the hallway and began a quiet search of the floor, looking for other denizens of the Biotechnology Firm's keep.
* * * * * *
The observation drone that Skidz had set to watch the camera registered the blinking light underneath the lens. He turned to his comrades; "Io has control. Time to go."
Scratch, Pirate, and Shadowchaser all got out of the van and hurriedly moved to the door, which was now unlocked. "I told you that decker was good," remarked Pirate as he pulled open the door.
Scratch didn't dignify the jab with a reply, but led the way into the building. The room they were going to was just down the hall a ways and with his low-light vision, Scratch didn't see anything in the hall. The trio crept quietly toward the objective, a laboratory where Seretech was conducting some new drug research. They had been hired to simply deliver a vial from this laboratory to their employer, Mr. Johnson. That was not his real name, of course. One of the rules of the biz was that the employer did everything he could to remain anonymous. They tended to live longer that way. The shadowrunners, in turn, tried to find out everything they could about their employer so that they could try and deduce whether or not they had been given all the facts. In this case, like so many others, that search had turned up absolutely nothing. The runners had accepted the job anyway, after having done some homework about it, because they were confident that they could deal with any unforeseen threats that arose. That was two days ago. Here and now, where the metal meets the meat, they simply had to hope for the best.
Once at the door to the lab, Scratch tried to open it. No dice. He looked up at the camera about 10 feet down the hallway and tapped his feet. After about 3 seconds, there was an audible click and Scratch opened the door. The trio stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
Johnson had told them that the vial they were looking for would be in a refrigeration unit in the room. The vial was labeled "V3 trial 2". There were several refrigeration units in the room, but it wasn't long before Pirate spoke up. "I found it."
"Great! Let's get the frag outta here," said Scratch.
As the trio moved toward the door, however,.
* * * * * *
.the drek hit the fan.
Somewhere within the keep, a chorus of trumpets began blaring and suddenly the keep was awash with activity. Io heard more footsteps than he wanted to count coming down from upstairs. Then he was running. He ran past the hallway with the side door he had unlocked and caught a brief glance of 5 armed guards, rapiers drawn, with one more at the watch hole. He ran past toward the back door, but skidded to a stop when another 5 armed guards and one captain confronted him. Oh drek, oh drek, oh drek! Instantly his rapier leapt to his hand and he was fighting for his life.
Two of the guards went down quickly, as Io fought with lightning speed. The remaining 3, however, were not proving as easy. It was then that he heard a small click. He glanced up toward the captain who had a pistol cocked and pointed at his head. Io did the only thing he could think of to do.
The man in the cement room snapped out of the trance that he was in and instantly recoiled from the incessant pounding in his head. The "kill" switch he had installed on his cyberdeck was blinking due to its use. He had made a wise investment, for a headache is infinitely more preferable than a dirt nap 6-feet under.
Doing his best to ignore the incessant pain in his head, he grabbed his cyberdeck and bedroll, and went outside to his car. Flipping the autopilot switch, he began his trip back to the safehouse, hoping his friends would get lucky.
* * * * * *
Shadowchaser stopped them all with a gesture. "Voices. Down the hall. They're getting closer." What he heard next, however, made his blood run cold. Listening through the door, he heard what sounded like many heavy weapons being cocked. Pirate must have heard it too, because he instantly began muttering under his breath, "Frag it, frag it, frag it!"
All three of them began looking around the room for another way out. The only thing apparent was going through the ceiling and trying to find another room to be in.preferrably one with a window. They all climbed up, went through the lowered ceiling tiles, and began crawling in the direction that they thought would lead them toward a wall. Over the com, the team heard Skidz in a panicked voice. "Guys, time to go. I've got drones all over my hoop. Star is probably en route."
"Not now, Skidz. Security's here. Working on an exit. Leave if you have to," said Scratch.
"Oh, drek. Roger that," Skidz replied.
"Shadow, a distraction would be helpful right about now," said Pirate, worried about the security forces below them. It wouldn't take them long to figure out where the trio had gone.
"Way ahead of you, shorty." A few muttered words later, the runners heard a large screech further down the hallway they were above. Several footsteps ran off toward it and in the distance, several heavy weapons could be heard firing. The runners crawled over the hallway, careful to not make a sound, as there were likely still Seretech security guards below. Having made it to another room, they removed the ceiling panel and dropped down. Scratch immediately moved to the window. After looking at it for a couple of seconds, he looked at Pirate and nodded.
Pirate moved to the window and began wiring it with plastique. Scratch turned to Shadowchaser. "You're in the middle. Pirate'll go first, then you and I'll bat cleanup. Move fast and quiet. Let's get out of this in one piece, then we'll figure it out." Shadowchaser nodded.
Pirate turned and moved quickly away from the window toward a large, heavy lab table. "Fire in the hole," he said, emotionless, professional. He blew the window and immediately ran toward it and leaped through to the pavement outside, drawing his Remington as he did. Shadowchaser went next and as Scratch moved to jump out the window, the door burst open. The guard only saw a shape moving toward the window before the 9mm shell entered his brain. Scratch dove out the window after his companions.
Outside, 3 guards were waiting. Two of them were drawing their weapons and one was lying on the pavement on his back, the bullet wound from Pirate's Remington leaving a bloody red stain on the cement. The other two guards might have created problems for the two runners if behind them Scratch had not gotten through the window shooting. The two guards were dead before they could even draw their weapons. Scratch picked up Shadowchaser and looked at Pirate. "Move it!"
Pirate turned to follow Scratch in running for the open streets, but not before he had pitched a frag grenade in the now open window. As the runners melted back into the shadows, The grenade blew up the flammable chemicals in the lab, lighting up that section of downtown Omaha. The shadows didn't even notice.