Nightshade sighed. She knew this was coming; it was her least favorite part of the job. She and the rest of her team had been planning this run for a month; plenty of time. She doubted their target knew what was coming. They had infiltrated the small corp office with ease. It was tedious work, but they were getting paid fairly well for the run, and on top of it all, they were getting paid by the corp. Nightshade had taken out an advance on her paycheck. Milk the corp for all they have, she thought.
She put on her usual attire with much relief. It was a welcome change from the 'Corporate Chic' crap she'd worn. They'd think it was just part of the costume; there was a corporate Halloween party tonight. Urban camouflage pants and a black shirt, and bandoleer for the weapons to hide in. The leather trenchcoat came last. Sighing, she looked in the mirror.
She still looked mostly human; most of the mods were inside, not out. The only obvious outside difference was her eyes. They were cold and somewhat metallic looking. Inside…
She turned from the mirror and walked out to her bike.
* * * * *
She met the rest of the group at a local bar ten minutes later. Rocky, the mage, was apparently the first to arrive because the Swamp Rat wasn't drinking. The Dwarven rigger dressed in straight black sat with her chair leaning against the wall, glaring at nothing. The Matrix Dragon was late, as usual; the damn elf seemed to have very little concept of time. Joe's leg was twitching; they still needed to get his reflex trigger fixed from the last run. His perpetually wide eyes scanned the room, short brown hair not quite long enough to get in his eyes.
They started going through the run, for clarification, when the Dragon arrived. He gave everyone a friendly smile and sat down. He was wearing his favorite shirt today --– dragon on the front, and a very amusing saying on the back – 'Do not taunt dragon, for you are crunchy and taste good with cheese'. He'd paid for a pad in script so it would be harder to trace back to him in case he got caught in the Matrix.
Once the overview was done, they each ordered their drink ( a Car Bomb for Swamp Rat, a glass of Elven wine for Dragon, water for Rocky because he couldn't drink it for some reason that he wouldn't tell, straight shot of Bacardi for Joe, and Liquid Cocaine for Nightshade ), toasted each other, and took off.
* * * * *
Nightshade walked through the door and into the conference room decorated in hanging jack-o'-lanterns, bats, ghosts, and witches flying on brooms. A cake made in the shape of a black cat was mostly gone. The party had wound down and most had already left, but Dragon was able to confirm that The Target™ was still there.
He jumped when he saw six feet of her in such an intimidating getup. 'You scared me! You missed a lot of the party; almost everyone's gone.'
She shrugged. 'It happens.'
'How've you been, Tanna? I'd heard you were sick.'
(God, this is killing me.) She was already feeling a bit guilty.
'Call me Nightshade.'
'Nightshade? Why? You look like something's bothering you.'
'I want to tell you I'm sorry. I really am.' She didn't notice that there were only two other people left. She was in business mode, nothing else mattered except her mission.
'It's all right … What are you so sorry about?' He had an awful confused look on his face.
She pulled out the Ares Predator and aimed it between his eyes. 'It's just biz.'
Pulling the trigger was damn hard – but not nearly as hard as it should have been.