Chapter 1: Tying Up Loose Ends
The silence in the room was interrupted at the sound of a small beep. The man in the tall-backed, leather executive chair swiveled around to look at his desk where a small screen had risen. He pressed a button and a face materialized on the screen.
"It has begun, sir," the man on the screen said.
"You have the item?"
"It will be in my possession shortly, at which time I will return."
"And the group you sent."
"They know nothing. The evidence will point to them. There will be nothing to trace it to us."
"Excellent. Inform me of your departure."
"I will, sir," and with that, the face winked out of existence.
The man smiled. Everything was going according to plan. Manipulating these puny lifeforms was even easier than he'd imagined. He swiveled back and stared out the window into the vastness of space, dreams of home and his former life filling his mind. Soon enough, he thought, he'd make them all pay.
* * * * * *
Back at the safe house, Io nursed his headache. Throwing up had helped, but he still felt like he had a hangover. His hands clutching the side of his head, he fought to sublimate the pain. He actually found himself doing rather well in this pursuit when the door slammed open. "OK, what the frag was THAT all about?!?!?" shouted a low voice. Io mumbled, "Quiet. Hurts." "Sorry, pal. Just a little pissed off right now after almost getting our hoops handed to us back there." Pirate dumped his ammo belts on the ground next to his Remington. Io just groaned. About that time, his world got steadily louder as Shadowchaser, Scratch, and Skidz walked through the door. "What in the hell just happened, Io ?!?!?!", shouted Skidz as he walked into the room. He felt a pang of guilt as he noticed Io's form sink down to a prone position on the couch, a large pillow covering his head. The groan told him it was dump shock, something unusual for Io but not unheard of. "Sorry chummer, but I mean, how the frag did they know something was up?" "Someone must have tipped them off, Skidz. I think it's time we get in touch with Winder again. I don't think it would have been him, but he could probably get a better feel for why this job went bad than we can." Winder was the team's fixer. Aside from providing job references, Winder occasionally provided gear at semi-reasonable prices and information at slightly less reasonable prices. He did, however, have a decent working relationship with the team, and had never (at least to their knowledge) purposely set them up. More than professional pride, it was bad for business. If word got out that a fixer set up a team on purpose to get hosed, the time it took for his business prospects to vanish into thin air couldn't even be clocked by the nova-hot SPU's that Fuchi was selling these days.
Pirate sat down next to Io and pulled out their quarry, the small vial they picked up on the run. It seemed to him a small thing, only about 10 inches long and less than an inch in diameter. The white label clearly read "V3 Trial 2", the liquid inside was clear and slightly viscous. He turned it in his hand, amazed that people would kill for something that looked so insignificant, that he would kill for the same thing was no small irony.
Shadowchaser walked over to the vidphone to place the call to Winder. After about 30 seconds, he turned around to the rest of the group. "Um, guys. I think we have a problem." Normally when 'chaser said that, the team blew it off. Shadowchaser was very good at his namesake - chasing shadows. This time however, as they looked at him, they saw real fear in his eyes, supplementing the ever-present paranoia. "Winder's line's been disconnected. Within the last 10 minutes." Just then the red light by the door began ticking.
3 months before, after a particularly lucrative run, Skidz had decided to purchase a perimeter alarm system for the safehouse. This system was completely isolated from the Matrix and the power supply for the system was located inside the building (supplemented with a backup-power generator that could last for several days at constant use). Several small motion sensors and covert cameras were placed around the small house to keep an eye out for unwanted guests. All of the fields of vision overlapped so that no one camera covered an angle by itself. All in all, it was one of the most expensive purchases that Skids had ever made (besides the team's van, of course). It was also the one thing that changed the course of the evening's events.
The instant that the alarm started ticking (the sound it made was actually a semi-loud tick so as not to alert intruders that they were compromised), Scratch drew his gun and crouched, whispering, "Down everyone. Company." Everyone hit the floor and Skidz crawled over to the bookshelf where the video surveillance equipment was. What he saw amazed him as much as it scared him.
* * * * * *
A lone figure walked up to the house. This late in the night, all the rest of the occupants of this area of the city would be asleep. No sense drawing attention to himself, he thought as he screwed on the silencer of his custom made pistol. He assumed that the team would have security on the house. He also knew that it would not matter. He was the best there was at what he did. That was why his employer treated and paid him so well. That was why to all the world, Archangel did not exist.
* * * * * *
"One guy closing on the building. Pistol. Silencer. Looks custom. Frag guys, this guy has to be pro. He isn't even taking any precautions. It's like he doesn't even care if we have surveillance." Skidz said upon looking at the monitor. You could tell which guys you had to worry about in this business, at least in the profession that he assumed that man that had come to their door practiced. All you had to do was look into their eyes. You knew that that you were in trouble. You didn't stay alive long in this business without knowing who to avoid.
"All right. Skidz, take Io and 'Chaser and get the van ready. Scratch and I will take this guy. Load heavy." Pirate said grimly as he drew his Remington. He and Scratch shared a look and Scratch nodded, holstering his pistol and un-slinging his Uzi III. The two took up positions down the hall from the entrance and the rest of the team went through the back door to the garage.
* * * * * *
All of the teams portable gear was located on racks in the garage of the house. It was fairly easy to get it into the van, after which they loaded Io and his deck which they took out of his car. Skidz got behind the wheel and jacked in, ready to go on a second's notice. He didn't have to wait long.
* * * * * *
Pirate looked at Scratch, "Ready?" Scratch simply nodded and pointed his weapon down the hallway. At that moment the front door was kicked in. Scratch fired a burst at about chest height. The man who kicked in the door, however was lying prone, feet toward the two runners, and began firing his pistol. His first round was a bit wide, but the second was true and caught Pirate in the shoulder, spinning him around in his squatting position and depositing him hard against the wall that he was using as a shield. The man at the door rolled to the side to get out of the way before Scratch could correct his fire.
"Frag it!", Pirate gasped through the pain. He pulled the pin on a smoke grenade and pitched it down the hallway. Scratch grabbed him, none too gently, and threw him over his shoulder as he moved toward the door leading to the garage. Scratch hopped unceremoniously into the van, depositing Pirate in the seat next to him and barked at Skidz, "Move it!"
Skidz busted the van through the garage door that they had designed to break evenly going out but be reinforced were anyone to try and break through. As he screamed onto the street, Shadowchaser looked out the back window. He could see the lone figure staring back at them through the tinted van window, smoke swirling about his legs, and Shadowchaser could almost feel the cold smile.
The silence in the room was interrupted at the sound of a small beep. The man in the tall-backed, leather executive chair swiveled around to look at his desk where a small screen had risen. He pressed a button and a face materialized on the screen.
"It has begun, sir," the man on the screen said.
"You have the item?"
"It will be in my possession shortly, at which time I will return."
"And the group you sent."
"They know nothing. The evidence will point to them. There will be nothing to trace it to us."
"Excellent. Inform me of your departure."
"I will, sir," and with that, the face winked out of existence.
The man smiled. Everything was going according to plan. Manipulating these puny lifeforms was even easier than he'd imagined. He swiveled back and stared out the window into the vastness of space, dreams of home and his former life filling his mind. Soon enough, he thought, he'd make them all pay.
* * * * * *
Back at the safe house, Io nursed his headache. Throwing up had helped, but he still felt like he had a hangover. His hands clutching the side of his head, he fought to sublimate the pain. He actually found himself doing rather well in this pursuit when the door slammed open. "OK, what the frag was THAT all about?!?!?" shouted a low voice. Io mumbled, "Quiet. Hurts." "Sorry, pal. Just a little pissed off right now after almost getting our hoops handed to us back there." Pirate dumped his ammo belts on the ground next to his Remington. Io just groaned. About that time, his world got steadily louder as Shadowchaser, Scratch, and Skidz walked through the door. "What in the hell just happened, Io ?!?!?!", shouted Skidz as he walked into the room. He felt a pang of guilt as he noticed Io's form sink down to a prone position on the couch, a large pillow covering his head. The groan told him it was dump shock, something unusual for Io but not unheard of. "Sorry chummer, but I mean, how the frag did they know something was up?" "Someone must have tipped them off, Skidz. I think it's time we get in touch with Winder again. I don't think it would have been him, but he could probably get a better feel for why this job went bad than we can." Winder was the team's fixer. Aside from providing job references, Winder occasionally provided gear at semi-reasonable prices and information at slightly less reasonable prices. He did, however, have a decent working relationship with the team, and had never (at least to their knowledge) purposely set them up. More than professional pride, it was bad for business. If word got out that a fixer set up a team on purpose to get hosed, the time it took for his business prospects to vanish into thin air couldn't even be clocked by the nova-hot SPU's that Fuchi was selling these days.
Pirate sat down next to Io and pulled out their quarry, the small vial they picked up on the run. It seemed to him a small thing, only about 10 inches long and less than an inch in diameter. The white label clearly read "V3 Trial 2", the liquid inside was clear and slightly viscous. He turned it in his hand, amazed that people would kill for something that looked so insignificant, that he would kill for the same thing was no small irony.
Shadowchaser walked over to the vidphone to place the call to Winder. After about 30 seconds, he turned around to the rest of the group. "Um, guys. I think we have a problem." Normally when 'chaser said that, the team blew it off. Shadowchaser was very good at his namesake - chasing shadows. This time however, as they looked at him, they saw real fear in his eyes, supplementing the ever-present paranoia. "Winder's line's been disconnected. Within the last 10 minutes." Just then the red light by the door began ticking.
3 months before, after a particularly lucrative run, Skidz had decided to purchase a perimeter alarm system for the safehouse. This system was completely isolated from the Matrix and the power supply for the system was located inside the building (supplemented with a backup-power generator that could last for several days at constant use). Several small motion sensors and covert cameras were placed around the small house to keep an eye out for unwanted guests. All of the fields of vision overlapped so that no one camera covered an angle by itself. All in all, it was one of the most expensive purchases that Skids had ever made (besides the team's van, of course). It was also the one thing that changed the course of the evening's events.
The instant that the alarm started ticking (the sound it made was actually a semi-loud tick so as not to alert intruders that they were compromised), Scratch drew his gun and crouched, whispering, "Down everyone. Company." Everyone hit the floor and Skidz crawled over to the bookshelf where the video surveillance equipment was. What he saw amazed him as much as it scared him.
* * * * * *
A lone figure walked up to the house. This late in the night, all the rest of the occupants of this area of the city would be asleep. No sense drawing attention to himself, he thought as he screwed on the silencer of his custom made pistol. He assumed that the team would have security on the house. He also knew that it would not matter. He was the best there was at what he did. That was why his employer treated and paid him so well. That was why to all the world, Archangel did not exist.
* * * * * *
"One guy closing on the building. Pistol. Silencer. Looks custom. Frag guys, this guy has to be pro. He isn't even taking any precautions. It's like he doesn't even care if we have surveillance." Skidz said upon looking at the monitor. You could tell which guys you had to worry about in this business, at least in the profession that he assumed that man that had come to their door practiced. All you had to do was look into their eyes. You knew that that you were in trouble. You didn't stay alive long in this business without knowing who to avoid.
"All right. Skidz, take Io and 'Chaser and get the van ready. Scratch and I will take this guy. Load heavy." Pirate said grimly as he drew his Remington. He and Scratch shared a look and Scratch nodded, holstering his pistol and un-slinging his Uzi III. The two took up positions down the hall from the entrance and the rest of the team went through the back door to the garage.
* * * * * *
All of the teams portable gear was located on racks in the garage of the house. It was fairly easy to get it into the van, after which they loaded Io and his deck which they took out of his car. Skidz got behind the wheel and jacked in, ready to go on a second's notice. He didn't have to wait long.
* * * * * *
Pirate looked at Scratch, "Ready?" Scratch simply nodded and pointed his weapon down the hallway. At that moment the front door was kicked in. Scratch fired a burst at about chest height. The man who kicked in the door, however was lying prone, feet toward the two runners, and began firing his pistol. His first round was a bit wide, but the second was true and caught Pirate in the shoulder, spinning him around in his squatting position and depositing him hard against the wall that he was using as a shield. The man at the door rolled to the side to get out of the way before Scratch could correct his fire.
"Frag it!", Pirate gasped through the pain. He pulled the pin on a smoke grenade and pitched it down the hallway. Scratch grabbed him, none too gently, and threw him over his shoulder as he moved toward the door leading to the garage. Scratch hopped unceremoniously into the van, depositing Pirate in the seat next to him and barked at Skidz, "Move it!"
Skidz busted the van through the garage door that they had designed to break evenly going out but be reinforced were anyone to try and break through. As he screamed onto the street, Shadowchaser looked out the back window. He could see the lone figure staring back at them through the tinted van window, smoke swirling about his legs, and Shadowchaser could almost feel the cold smile.
