Arriving at the next tent, Marius recognised the vendor inside – another one they had met at the previous market in Tehran.
"He called himself Manuel. Into information brokerage, charged a fee for access to an exclusive matrix host."
"So there's this guy and the gun shops left, probably. And the cars. Assuming we want to look at those. Do we want to talk to this one?"
"I want to see the cars, Aswon. I think it'll be really useful for the distractions and illusions. Not essential though if we're low on time, but if we're not, I'd like to see them."
"Fair enough, Tads. Let's go check him out – it shouldn't take long."
"Shame if he's not an ID manufacturer as well…"
"Why do you want another ID? Is there something wrong with the one you've got?" Hunter asked.
"I don't, and I think we're all ok. But I was thinking that Marius Junior could probably do with one." The group fell quiet for a moment, all turning to look at Marius Senior – who suddenly looked surprised and somewhat aghast.
"Yeah – sinless bugger at the moment, I guess?" Aswon grinned, but let the smile fade away. "Tads has a point – getting him an ID done now should be pretty simple with his age and lack of records. But it'll help no end later."
"We should probably get one for Nadia as well – something to help her avoid her family, assuming that we're still interested in doing that. Certainly makes life easier for us if her dad never discovers we've had her all along and realises we decided not to tell him!"
"There is that. Though if the situation comes up, I think we just put Nadia and her dad in a room together to discuss it for a while. Or Nadia and her uncle – but just make sure she has a knife." Kai grinned at them. "Problem solved then, I think. Given how she's um….grown… recently. I think her uncle would try to treat her like he did, and we all know how that'd end for him I think!"
They headed into the tent, various grins or frowns on their faces as they thought about what Nadia might do to members of her estranged family – with Marius looking the most displeased. Hardly surprising of course, given that it was his wife and his son that would be most affected!
"Seriously for a moment," Aswon controlled the grin on his face, "is it worth asking for a few accesses or a preview on whatever this service is? Maybe search for something like that area in Yakut we visited, somewhere that's pretty rare but that we actually know something about? That way we can verify how much use this has for us?"
"Or maybe something about Nigeria and the space port?" Tads suggested.
"Tempting – though I think that was very much a temporary thing. Looking into something a little more long-term would be better in my opinion." Aswon looked over at Kai to get his feedback.
"I'm not sure if we should be asking for freebies. I mean, don't knock it if it's offered. But what's this guy's rep? Anyone know? No?" He shrugged. "Let's go see, and if it's not too expensive, maybe it's worth a risk."
"Can always ask about who the rightful King of England is, and if anyone has seen him?" Tads said quietly as they headed towards the guy lines and stakes marking the perimeter.
"Bog off, you…" Hunter stuck his tongue out as they ducked under the edge of the tent, entering the area and looking around. It had the same tables as all the other tents – and the same dim lighting slung overhead as the vast majority of the other tents. There were a few tablets on stands, displaying information dumps and searches running on some fictional host – looking like a 'hacking scene' in the latest trideo production.
"Good evening to you! What can I do for you?"
"Hello. We met before, in Tehran. Couple of months back. Manuel, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's right! I'm so sorry… I'm not sure I took your name down for my contact list…"
"It's Kai. This is my team… you're an information broker, aren't you? We're potentially interested in your services."
"Oh marvellous – that is good. Well, it's very understandable of course. In our line of work, knowledge is power, am I right?" He grinned at Kai, and lightly tapped him on the shoulder, making Shimazu twitch slightly, his eyes watching the salesman like a pair of targeting lasers. "So – I run a specialised information brokerage, using a custom set of expert systems, gathering data from all over the world, from hundreds of sources – some of them teams like yourself. People who get into interesting places, meeting interesting situations, that kind of thing."
Manuel launched into his sales pitch, a clearly well practiced and fluid description of his service and offering, detailing how his semi-autonomous knowbots gathered and indexed information, verifying it and grading it by the reputation of the contributor and the number of sources that had confirmed the data, filtering out expired information and extrapolating on trends to provide estimates and conjecture on possible threats and situations. It all sounded very professional, if a little light on the detail of how it worked at a nuts and bolts level.
"That sounds interesting, and like it might be of use to us. So Manuel – what got you into this line of work?"
"Oh you know – I was just drawn to it. It's what I'm good at, and it always helps to do something you enjoy and excel at. So – what particular aspect of things do you cover?"
"Shipping mainly. Some infiltrations, covert deliveries. Transportation of goods and high-risk items I'd say is our speciality." Manuel nodded along as Kai spoke, giving the impression of listening with rapt attention. "So, how often is your database updated then?"
"Oh, daily at the minimum. As I said the SKs are constantly running and refining, updating the development models and databases, and we push those live at least once a day – but often there's three or four major updates to production a day, to get time-sensitive or hot items out to the users."
"Ok. Well, it certainly sounds good. Now to the crunch… how much is it?"
"Well, I'd suggest you start with the basic package, try things out. See how it works for you. That's a grand a month. There are premium services, but I don't think it's right to sell you those if you're not going to use them or benefit. I've got a datapad here if you want to sign up though, and some authenticator hardware to generate your keys, if you did decide to go ahead. No pressure, of course…"
"Right, well then, let's sign up. A grand, right – for one month?"
"Oh… no. Twelve thousand. It's a grand a month, when you take a twelve month deal." Kai paused, his hand half-outstretched with the cred-stick, giving Manuel a look.
"So we can't do a one month deal?"
"No, not really. The lowest I normally do is a three month package. It takes a little while to set up your account and get you authenticated, and for the SKs to really get a handle on what you're after."
"SKs are semi-autonomous knowbots," Hunter said, seeing the look of confusion on Tads' face. "Those are the 'expert systems'. Depending on the complexity, they can do a pretty good job of impersonating a real person, including making leaps of apparent intuition."
"Yes, that's right! I take it you're the technical expert on the team?" Manuel looked over at the ork, watching him give a shrug of acceptance. "Well, I guess you're the one that'll be using our systems then. Let's just say that our SKs are extremely competent. Mostly running on a network made up of bridged Kraftwork-8s, with a high speed database on tier three optical disks and a five-hundred megapulse cache." Hunter nodded and gave a little snort… it wasn't exactly approval, but it did seem to indicate that he understood. Manuel turned back to Kai. "I can do you the three month package if you want, but on the shorter duration contracts it works out at two grand a month…"
They negotiated back and forth, Kai suggesting deals and different terms, and Manuel making counter offers and describing the technical capacity and capabilities of his network, trying to win Hunter over. Back and forth they went, until finally Kai folded and agreed to a one year deal, at a price of eleven thousand Nuyen. Manuel quickly pulled out the datapad and took some details, setting up a user account for Hunter and registering him on his network, then pulling out a small authenticator device. A single line display showed a complex string of characters, a mix of upper and lower case, numbers and special symbols, twenty-five characters in length. Split slightly to one side was a timer, counting down from thirty. As it hit zero, the twenty-five characters changed to another random selection.
"This is your authenticator. Run it on your deck, and it will verify and validate your logon to the site, and provide a coded checksum when you need to upload or download information. Everyone on the site has one, and it's used to validate and secure all access and operations. Any data you get will have a key file, and if you find something that's been poisoned or set up as a false flag – we can track it back to whoever uploaded it, and deal with them. It's one of the ways we ensure data consistency and correctness."
It took a few more minutes to finish setting up the account, but soon their credstick was eleven thousand lighter, but they had a chunk of information on how to log into the brokerage service and the authenticator was stuffed deep into Hunter's pocket. With that they headed outside, back into the sparse crowds of other people that were wandering the site, and turned to the west, heading towards the large tent containing the cars.
Wandering along the path, they saw a slight figure in a burka wandering towards them. The figure stopped and peered at them for a moment, then started to walk more briskly in their direction, aiming directly at them. The team slowed and spread out a little, wondering who it was, and several hands drifted down subtly towards weapons.
"I have a message for the gentlemen with the Sword." The figure was female, and seemed to place a certain emphasis on the last word. Hunter looked at Shimazu, then round at the rest of the team.
"Well, I got a sword, but somehow I think the message ain't for me. You gonna take this one?"
"I will." Shimazu took a small step forward and looked at the woman, trying to get a read on her. The long flowing robe hid her body very effectively, and made it hard to read her body language.
"Mr. Patel, a seller of some repute has become aware of your skill, and has an offer for you. He has a special item, that would be of interest to a discerning artist. If you would like to view the item, please come to the north side of the house in fifteen minutes where you will be given an opportunity to view the item one-to-one. Please come alone, as all the other potential bidders will do. There will be a sealed auction at 23:00 for the item." She spoke in a slightly odd tempo, almost a sing-song voice, continuing without pause until the end of her message.
"Interesting. Ok – I'll be there."
"I will let Mr. Patel know." She gave a small bow, and then turned and hurried off to the north, her burka billowing around her.
"So who's Mr. Patel? You ever heard of him?"
"Nope, never. No idea who he is, or what the item is."
"Wonder if it's something funky, like the short sword that goes with yours? Or something like that?"
"I do not feel comfortable with this." Marius warned. "I do not want to have to flee the market because Shimazu chopped someone in half."
"Don't worry. I won't. But I might want some money, Kai."
"That's almost worse!" Aswon joked. "If this is some kind of collectible or rare thing, it might be way more than we can afford. Who knows."
They grouped back up and headed over towards the car display, bouncing random ideas off of each other, guessing at what kind of thing might be in this secret auction. Reaching the large marquee, they could see that this was a far grander affair than any of the other tents. It was made out of a white fabric rather than the faded green of the others, and was much newer and in better repair. It also had a thinner material hanging inside as a lining, a pearlescent white material that concealed the lights behind it, diffusing the beams and casting an even glow throughout the interior. A floor of interlocking panels had been laid down over the rough ground, sparkling and reflecting the light from above back and making the room even brighter. Laid out in three rows of three were a series of cars – though they were unlike anything that several of the team had ever seen before.
Each one was beautiful, with smooth flowing lines and crafted shapes that gave each of the cars a distinctive and unique profile. They embodied the word 'sleek' and seemed to radiate a sense of speed, even while sitting perfectly still and turned off. As they slowly rotated on the turn-tables they were sat upon, the team got to see the various aspects of the cars. None of them were large, being mostly two seater variants – provided that you were of a regular size. It was doubtful that either Shimazu or Hunter could have fitted in any of the seats, and while Aswon was slender enough, there was no way he was sitting upright in any of these vehicles!
"This your cup of tea, Marius?" Kai asked, admiring the cars as they wandered through the area. The vehicles were drawing a big crowd, with lots of people standing and gawping at the luxury machines. Most of them probably had no hope of ever making enough money in their lifetimes to be able to afford such a thing, but they seemed to be enjoying just being in proximity to them, and lusting after them.
"Nein. Ground vehicles have their place, but I prefer to be in the air. But these are specialist vehicles – I can tell you what they are."
"Go on then…"
"In the first row, we have a Pagani Zonda Revolucion, then a Ferrari LaFerrari, and the one in the back corner is a McLaren X1. In the centre row is a Porsche 918 Spyder, then a Bugatti Veyron Linea Viviere, and ending up with a Lotus Evija – I'm not sure on which variant though. And on the last row is a Koenigsegg Regera, then a Mercedes-AMG One, and ending with an Aston Martin Valkyrie."
"I like that one the best. It's the prettiest colour." Tads said, examining it carefully. "So how much do they cost?"
"Each of these cars will go for between two and four million, I would estimate." Tads spluttered as Marius indicated the price, going slightly bug-eyed as she tried to work out why. Sure, they were pretty – one of them had a colour-shifting paint that gave slow ripples through a blue-green palette that was particularly appealing. But she couldn't fathom why anything would be worth that much…
"Many of them are made in very small quantities. They are designs at the very pinnacle of engineering, designed to give the ultimate performance. No good off-road, but on a decent surface, you could probably reach over three hundred kilometres per hour with no real effort. On a long highway, in good conditions… well, we would struggle to overtake them in the Broadsword."
Aswon, Kai and Tads looked at Marius with a mix of disbelief and amazement, then back at the cars.
"Do not get me wrong. That kind of speed is not sustainable for long. They drink fuel, and the tyres wear at a crazy rate. Even the slightest disruption in the road surface could cause a serious crash. But these are machines designed to operate at the very peak of performance. There is a reason they are referred to as 'Hyper-cars'."
"I'll catch up with you all soon – I'm off to go find this Mr. Patel."
"Is it worth a mind-link to keep in touch? Maybe Kai can assist with any smuggling or black market knowledge?" Aswon suggested.
"If this is an expensive item, will it not be in a room protected by a ward or magical barrier?"
"Ah, probably Marius. True, true. Maybe just keep the commline open if you can – though they're probably going to have jammers on as well to stop trackers or monitoring I guess." Aswon shrugged. "Be careful, ok?"
"I will." Shimazu excused himself and headed towards the house, while the others continued to examine the luxury vehicles.
"All of these cars you can't buy normally." Hunter said quietly. He'd been tapping away on his terminal, checking on the status of each of the models. "None of them are for sale from the manufacturers at the moment – so to get one, you've got to buy from a collector or existing user. Very much a sellers' market. Some of these cars have a three-year waiting list, or people entering bidding wars for them. Think we can tell how they're ending up here and being shifted…"
They wandered around, checking out the cars still, but now looking at the people running the stall and the visitors more closely. There were very few identifiable staff – the main one being a youngish looking Chinese man wearing a very sharply tailored suit, an expensive looking watch, necklace and rings in matching gold and with about a litre of hair product holding his style in place. He seemed to be circulating amongst the more wealthy-looking members of the crowd, chatting with them with false enthusiasm for a short period before moving on, circulating quickly throughout the crowd.
Marius, meanwhile, was starting to twitch. He really wasn't a car person, not really. He admired the engineering here – but it would have been much better spent in his opinion by adding some wings to the product. But the crowd seemed to be full of 'armchair experts' with noisy individuals holding court in all corners of the tent, dispensing their 'wisdom' on how the cars worked, or describing engineering features that were clearly made up to make them sound knowledgeable and impressive, and the blatant inaccuracies were really grating on his nerves.
The team were right in the corner of the tent when Tads suddenly stiffened, her face tightening in alarm and her mouth dropping open.
"Shimazu, under attack! That way!" she pointed suddenly to the north-west, her arm out ramrod straight. "North side of the house, in the dark!"
Aswon barely heard the last few words, even with his excellent hearing as he accelerated. Focussing all of his concentration he took iron control over his body and commanded the muscles to activate, speeding his metabolism through sheer force of will. He took off like a cheetah, arms pumping and his spear scything through the air as a result, heading in the direction Tads had indicated. He heard the heavy footsteps of Hunter following behind him, but he opened the distance rapidly as his long legs powered him forward.
The crowd parted before him, alerted by the bellow from Hunter. Some of them scowled as they turned, probably wondering who dared to command them so crudely – but they all threw themselves out of the way as he bore down on them, a look of fury and absolute concentration on his face. Hunter barrelled along afterwards, struggling to bring his assault rifle up on the sling from behind his back, and Marius, Tads and Kai strung along after, each running as fast as they could. The crowd stepped back, keeping the way clear and watching with curiosity and intrigue as the five team-members hurtled past them, in descending orders of speed. Hunter didn't match Aswon's velocity, but he was about twice his mass, and made just as much of an impression on people, and while Marius, Kai and Tads were much more 'normal', the intensity of the looks on their faces and their focus on sprinting as fast as they could marked them out as not being particularly bothered if they had to shoulder-barge their way through the crowd.
Aswon angled around one of the outbuildings, still sprinting hard and now well clear of Hunter – but he slowed a little as he spotted the body of Shimazu slumped on the floor, unmoving. Emotions warred within him – part of him wanted to keep going and reach his friend as quickly as possible, help him and find out what had happened. Another part of him though wanted very much not to end up face-down to the body and adding to the problem and not being part of the solution. He slowed, and his eyes flitted over the scene, looking for the cause or source of the attack.
It was all quiet, though, with nobody moving that he could see. No source of threats, no obvious sign of a struggle. As he got closer he could see both of Shimazu's hands out, draped out by his sides where he'd fallen. The sword was in the scabbard, trapped under his body – which meant that whatever had happened had caught him so flat-footed, so completely by surprise that he'd not even had a chance to reach for his weapon. That sent a chill down Aswon's spine – he had seen Shimazu draw, knew just how quickly he could make the sword appear to teleport from scabbard to hand – his ability to react to the start of a fight and beat whoever was attacking him to the strike was something that he almost took for granted now. But whatever had happened here had been so blisteringly fast, or so completely unseen that he'd not even had a chance.
"Found him, face down. Still has his sword – sheathed. No sign of the attacker, no sign of a struggle at all. Must have caught him completely by surprise. Ahh, drek – Kai, quick as you can. He's lying in a massive pool of blood. His own, I think. And you, Tads – I think we're going to need you more than anything else." He paused for a moment, then relaxed, as the sound of approaching steps was recognised, Hunter catching up with him. As Hunter, too, slowed and started to survey the scene, assault rifle nestled in his shoulder and ready to fire, Aswon felt safe enough to drop into astral space and have a look around there, too.
"Tads – something else, there's a spell signature here too. Big one. Just off to one side, behind a building – I think that's where the attacker stood. So some kind of combat spell. It's about as big as when you reshape the earth, that kind of power level. Whoever it was, they hit him hard." He glanced over at the distorted and corrupted form of Hunter. "You good here? Going to look for this signature, see if I can find the owner."
"Got it. Be careful." Hunter continued to scan around, keeping his eyes peeled for any movement out in the darkness, catching just a flicker of movement as Aswon took off once more to search a wider perimeter.
The others arrived, Marius joining Hunter in guarding the scene with his sub-gun held in both hands, standing back to back with Hunter to watch the other hemisphere, while Kai and Tads crouched down over Shimazu.
"Frak, he's lost a lot of blood!" Kai rolled Shimazu over, uncaring about laying him in the pool of cooling and congealing blood, but wanting to check out his front side. Blood continued to ooze out of his ears, nose and eyes, rivulets cascading down the side of his face. Pulling out the small travel kit he always carried, Kai set to work staunching the flow of blood as best he could. "This is all internal – I can block it coming out, but I can't fix this. Not without surgery." He felt a ripple of magic wash over him as Tads did something.
"Sterilised the area – hopefully that will stop anything nasty getting inside and giving him an infection. Ok, see if you can block up the blood flow – just open the mouth and wedge it open so he doesn't suffocate. I'll see what I can do…"
The both beavered away, working hard to preserve the failing life signs in the body before them. Kai treated the outside – though what Shimazu really needed was a trauma centre and about five bags of blood to prop up his system. But soon enough Tads had gathered herself together and was prepared, and the familiar golden glow started to form around Shimazu's head. The light bathed the body with its touch, the mana going to work inside his head, repairing the thousands of burst blood vessels and stopping the bleeding, reconstituting pathways and regenerating tissue and fluids. The skin slowly took on a healthier tinge, the grey pallor of death slowly retreating.
"Think we were lucky here. Another ten-fifteen seconds, and there might not have been anything we could have done." Kai rocked back on his heels, wiping himself as clean as he could with the discarded wrappers from the bandages and medical supplies.
"What….what happened?" Shimazu croaked, struggling to sit up and wincing as pain lanced through his head. "How did you all get here?"
"You were attacked by something. The spirit I set to guard you came to tell me – some person was lurking over there." Tads waved at the small building across the path, examining the same astral signature that Aswon had identified, filing away the 'flavour' of it for the future. "No idea who they were, or what was going on – but they attacked you, I think with a mana-bolt. Powerful one too – stronger than anything I can cast."
"I feel like crap…"
"You will, probably for the next few days. You were bleeding out…" she gestured at the pool of blood surrounding him, soaking into his clothes. "I fixed the worst of it – but my magic isn't strong enough to deal with that much damage. Something I need to think about and fix. But I've got you mostly healed – not entirely. There's burst blood vessels all through your body, and they need a bit of rest and time to recuperate." Shimazu nodded at her, and then reached up with a hand, letting Kai and Tads haul him to his feet. He, too, looked over at the spot by the building, checking in astral and committing the mental signature to memory, along with Kai.
"Whoever did this made a mistake leaving their signature here. Unless that's part of the message?"
"Maybe. I don't think they were planning on leaving it – perhaps the spirit surprised them, or the speed that Aswon got here… it can't have been more than about ten-fifteen seconds after the attack – not long enough to cleanse it away." A sudden thought crossed her mind. "Marius – is there anyone near the Broadsword? This could be a distraction?"
"Let me check." He pulled up the deck and connected to the sensors on the aircraft, checking the surrounding area with the trickle of standby power that fed them from the batteries. "Nothing showing at the moment – but it is a concerning thought." Thinking through the possibilities, he decided to play it safe and sent the start-up command, remotely bringing the aircraft systems online. "I will launch, and circle the area. We have enough fuel for it, and it stops anyone attacking or interfering from the ground. And if we need to fight someone, we can get away more quickly, too."
"I've spotted someone – the woman that delivered the message. She's walking on the south side of the house, westward – heading towards the car park and landing area." Aswon's voice came through calmly and sounding remarkably normal, despite the sprinting and rapid pace. "Hunter, if you can come up the south side of the house, I'll stay on the north west and we can pincer her."
"Apprehend her, please."
"Are you sure, Kai?"
"Yes. I think we want to talk to her…"
"Copy that."
Shimazu moved over to the bloody pool where he'd lain, and crouched down carefully, letting a finger dangle into the pile of blood that was slowly soaking into the hard earth. Carefully he opened his aura to the event, reaching out to try and determine what had gone on, picking up on the magical energies connected to the event and the aftermath, waiting as faint and nebulous images flashed through his imagination as he tried to make sense of the dream-like flashes of inspiration.
Half a minute passed, then they heard Hunter tell Aswon he was in position, and there was a flurry of quiet communications as they converged on the target.
"Target in custody, no resistance. Bringing her down now."
When they returned, Tads was the first to assense her, probing at her aura and trying to penetrate any masking she might have – but by no more than half a second. Each of the magically active members of the team checked over the quivering girl – but unless her abilities were far in excess of their own, she appeared to be a normal, mundane, human woman – absolutely terrified and with a palpable aura of regret, but remarkably normal.
"Please, don't hurt me. I give you the money!" She dived a hand inside the burka, causing several of the team to step back and bring weapons to bear on her, fixing her in a cross-fire. Slowly she pulled her hand out with a handful of notes, her arm trembling noticeably. As she looked around at the grim-faced people surrounding her, her gaze caught sight of the blood-stained clothing of Shimazu, and the look of pain that distorted his face. Averting her eyes, she looked down at the ground – and spotted the silhouette on the ground where he'd lain, and the blood had pooled around him. "I didn't know!" She fell to her knees, raising her hands in front of her and imploring with them, praying for salvation it seemed. "I didn't know anyone would get hurt. Please, have mercy on me!"
"Listen to me." It was Shimazu that stepped forward, not Kai, kneeling down in front of her, one blood-stained knee on the ground and his face bought level with hers. Kai had been about to speak, but took a quiet step backwards to let Shimazu deal with this. It would probably be better coming from him, after all. "Listen carefully. I don't think you did mean for this to happen. You sound honest, what you said. But we need to know everything. We can do this the easy way, by you volunteering to have your mind linked to our shaman. We can look then, find out who paid you to do this, and take it up with them. Or we can hold you down and our shaman can take it from your mind by force. That hurts, and it can damage you. I don't want to do that – but we will. It's your choice. Easy or hard."
Tads shifted from foot to foot uneasily. It wasn't true of course, but she recognised what Shimazu was trying to do. But she also didn't like coercing people like that. Of course, it wasn't her that have just been attacked and nearly killed – so she held her tongue, waiting to see what was going to happen.
"The easy way. Please. I don't want to be hurt. I'm sorry…"
"Just relax then. As long as you try to help us, you won't be harmed." Tads stepped forward and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Calm yourself, and when you feel something, just think back to what happened. Try to remember as much as you can. Take your time. They may ask you questions, or to think about things again. Just do your best." As she was trying to calm the woman, Tads threw up her mindlink, adding all of the group members into the gestalt. The rest of the team were used to this now, and shielded themselves, making sure not to broadcast things they didn't want – but they caught the fear and guilt radiating from the woman in front of them.
They questioned her, finding out her name and that she lived in the local village, providing cleaning and cooking services to wealthier families, looking after children – whatever odd jobs she could that would keep her off the streets and from having to do anything too distasteful. Tonight she'd been employed as a guide and a gopher, earning a pitiful amount of money to run errands or direct people to the closest toilets or a particular market vendor. At least until the man had approached her.
He was tall and muscular, a male ork that was as tall as Hunter, though not as broad. But his clothes were unusual, a brown suit with a hairy and heavily-textured fabric outer, with a bright yellow silk lining that had caught her eye. Brown leather shoes were laced onto his feet, and a brown trilby with a yellow ribbon around the base adorned his head, casting much of his face into shadow. He'd approached her, wanted to know if she wanted to earn some money. She'd said yes, of course. Gotten nervous as the man led her away into the darkness, wondering if she'd made a mistake, was about to be hit or abducted. But then he'd pulled out the money, a lot of money. Cash. Paper nuyen notes, all Japanese. But real money. Thousands of nuyen, more than she earnt in several years. Just gave it to her, told her to listen. To concentrate. To remember.
She'd found it hard to focus at first until he snapped at her, pulled her attention away from the money. She stuffed it into a pocket, to deal with later. Looked up at him and listened as he described the team. The tall black man, the wide ork, the big man with the sword. The pretty boy, the blond man, and the woman. Each of them caught an image, a caricature that was vaguely recognisable as themselves. Then the message. Over and over, he repeated the message, making sure she learnt it exactly, word for word. Could repeat it perfectly. Then she had been sent off to find them, told to deliver the message – nothing more, nothing less. Repeat the message if questioned, and then leave.
They went back over the details, varying the questions, changing the order – but the mental images stayed consistent, the story the same. It hung together, felt 'right' – not something she was trying to make up or fabricate, but a true representation of what had happened. Mixed in with this was the woman's fear and uncertainty. Questions about who the team were, what she had gotten involved in. Whether she was going to die, or be allowed to leave. The emotional rawness cut through them – her desperation in her life, and the chance to earn a huge amount of money, at least for her.
Aswon looked at the notes in her hand, still scrunched up tightly and gave them a rough count. Probably about five grand. She'd known it was questionable – but it was a lot of money. A huge amount. Enough to make her life considerably easier for several years, based on her needs. They asked her about her life, where she lived, what she did, and felt the desperation she'd felt, the lack of choice when offered the unexpected windfall. She'd known that something was not 'right', that it was too much money for a simple task. But she'd done it anyway, feeling she had no choice. No alternative but to grasp the opportunity in both hands and to take the risk. And now she feared that she'd lost it all – not just the money but her life as well, surrounded by these fell and dangerous strangers from far-off lands…
"Let me see the money." Shimazu spoke quietly, but it wasn't a request. She was defeated and scared enough that she didn't even hesitate, but instead just held the money out while she stared at the ground, mind still reeling with the strange feeling of being linked to the strangers and having them pore over her thoughts. She was surprised though when Shimazu just touched the notes gently, letting his fingertips graze across them from one side to another. He gave a little shiver, then his hand clenched, withdrawing his fingers as he gleaned some vision from them.
"Go. Take the money and go. Go home, now." Aswon told her. He pulled his lips back into what might charitably have been a grin, exposing the huge implanted fangs. "Run…" She stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before turning and sprinting away, running as fast as she could, her sandals slapping along the hard ground and the fabric of her burka billowing and flapping as she sprinted away consumed by fear. The team waited, and thirty seconds later they felt her mind fade from the link as she opened the distance between herself and the group.
"Let me show you what I felt. On my blood first…"
Images washed through their mind as Shimazu shared the results of his first psychometry attempt, picking up the disjointed flashes and images he'd picked up from his psychic analysis. They saw him appear out of a bank of mist, sword held high. A flash of pain. Looking down and seeing themselves cut, their own soul pouring out of a wound. The ground rising up to slap them in the face, then darkness. A white hand reaching down towards them, helping them to rise, holding them up. But then a black hand coalescing out of the mist too, grabbing their soul and ripping part of it free, before fading away into the mist."
"Whew… that felt a bit heavy." Aswon looked over at the outline of the blood as the earth slowly soaked it up. "Not surprising really, but… you don't get the emotional connection from being told stuff like that. Experiencing it is something else…"
"Did you get anything from the money?" Kai asked
"Yes."
They received his memory of his second psychometry reading, the sensations picked up as he let his hand touch each of the notes. A feeling of coldness, revenge and anticipation. Bait being placed into a trap, a satisfaction at calculations that were now bearing fruit.
"Well, that pretty much answers that one for me. Definitely planned, and clearly aimed at us in general – and I think you specifically. But no idea who it was, or why?" Aswon raised an eyebrow at Shimazu, but saw him shake his head.
"No. I think it was personal, but there's nothing of that coming through – which seems to make it a bit of a weird mix. Personal. But professional."
"I would agree on the professional. The image we get of the person who paid her. The clothing and shoes, the hat – all unusual. Noticeable. Distinctive and stylish. But they all drew her attention away from the person inside them. That is good fieldcraft. One change of clothes later, and the woman might not even recognise the person as being the same. It is going to make our job of tracking them down so much harder."
"But we have their astral signature, Marius. I think they weren't expecting the response to be so quick. Probably had plans to cleanse the signature while Shimazu bled out. Would have taken them thirty seconds or so, right?" Aswon looked over at Tads and saw her nod. "But when the spirit took off at high speed, they had to flee. No telling what was coming. I mean, Tads, if you'd just slumped and gone out of body, you'd have been here in about a second right, with half a dozen spirits?" Again, she nodded. "Right, that's what I thought. I mean sure, someone would have had to carry you – but they would have been mauled by that many spirits. Or at least tied up until I got here, and then life would have gotten very complicated. So I'm guessing as soon as they saw the spirit, they left, quickly."
"So that means they might be somewhere in the market somewhere?" Shimazu's hand dropped down to the sword hilt and his jaw set firmly. "I think we should have a look around."
"Marius – you said you were taking off, right?" Marius nodded at the shaman, confirming the status and gesturing up into the evening sky. "Can you use the sensor things to spot for anyone trying to leave?"
"I can. They will have been recording for a while any way, but I can set up some filtering and keep an active eye on the situation."
"Ok, that's the physical side sorted. Tads – can you fly up high and look for the signature?"
"I could, but it's a bad idea. If they're still here, they're probably hiding, or masking. Or maybe both. To try and get the signature to match, I need to actively assense everyone. And anyone with any talent is likely to feel that, to know that someone is checking them out. That's generally not seen as a friendly action. Likely to get us attacked, or at the very least thrown out."
"Ok, scratch that then. So – we keep our eyes and ears open, and keep the sensors recording. And we definitely don't split up now. But otherwise… we carry on?"
"Yes, we still have a job to do, I guess. Are you feeling up to this, Shimazu?"
"I'm fine Aswon, thanks. Bit of a headache, but it'll pass."
"Am I being paranoid here… but is it significant that they were Japanese nuyen. I mean, the notes were from Japan, not the fact that they were nuyen. 'Cos I suppose all nuyen is Japanese nuyen when you think about it…" Hunter mused, as they formed up in a cluster and headed back towards the weapons dealers.
"I'm not sure. I don't think so – but that's not to say it couldn't be. I mean, Japan's not close, but we are in Asia. I think some of the traders and customers here probably run that far. Certainly worth thinking about, I suppose." Aswon shrugged. "I'm not sure we have enough information to go on at the moment. We know it's a professional. They're got resources, and a good mage. They knew enough to get out of the way when they saw the spirit. They clearly intended to kill Shimazu, so whatever it's about, it's serious. But beyond that, we're not certain on much…"
"Yeah. Sucks ass. Wonder if it was the Yakuza? Do any organised crime like to use cash particularly? I mean, where it's important to use it for cultural or ritual purposes, rather than being anonymous? Because most people would have just used a certified cred-stick, I think."
They headed eastward, their eyes peeled and on high alert as they went, bouncing ideas around to see if anything came of it.
When they got to the gun dealers, they were initially somewhat disappointed. The first tent was another Tehran veteran, Norikito. He sold a lot of Renraku branded weapons, pretty good in terms of quality, and he had some good accessories for them. Marius reminded them that he'd been quite antagonistic towards Shimazu last time, so they steered clear, not wanting to court any trouble. The adjacent tent was someone new – a man calling himself 'Khan'. His skin tone, accent and dress pegged him as a local, as did the quality of his wares. He had a veritable mountain of weapons, piled up in all manner of crates – all of it very old. It looked like he'd scoured the battlefields for the last hundred years and picked up every US and Russian weapon possible, along with box after box of ammunition that looked to date from the same era. The rifles were basic, and looked to be in poor condition, as did the handful of RPGs that were stacked in the corner – but the prices were correspondingly low.
As the team didn't feel they had a need to start a bush rebellion somewhere, they pressed on, finding that the last tent in the row was run by 'Mr. Wei', another seller from Tehran. His Chinese imports were of basic design and cheap construction – not as bad as Khan's old-tech, but not much better in terms of reliability. He was another man with a chip on his shoulder, they remembered, having some kind of issue with Kai. With nothing of interest to them, they left and were about to head back – when Hunter spotted the edge of one more tent tucked away behind the other gun sellers.
Working their way back they found another of the basic green tents tucked away right on the edge of the compound, devoid of any foot traffic. Carefully Hunter moved inside, waving the others in as he saw the now ubiquitous tables and lamps suspended down the middle, and what seemed to be a single occupant. The team filed in, while the figure in the chair continued to nurse his beer, feet up on the empty tables in front of him.
"G'day mates." The accent was unmistakeable, and he raised the can of larger towards them in a salute. Broad-shouldered but with a trim waist, the man looked to be tall and heavily-muscled, with little obvious cyber-ware. He examined them critically, took another swig of his beer, and then belched appreciatively. "Who are you fellas. And you, Sheila."
"We're a team of relocation specialists. Are you selling guns? The others seemed to be, but you don't appear to have much stock?" Kai gave him a grin.
"I got some bits and bobs."
"Do you have any rifles? I am Aswon."
"Depends, what kind of thing are you after?"
"Have I not just said? Rifles. But to be specific, accurate rifles for long-range work. Significant range. High stopping power. Limited ammunition capacity is not an issue."
"Ahh, right, now we're talking. Fancy yourself a bit of a marksman, do ya?" The question came out as a challenge, and the man swung his feet down from the table and sat forward in the chair, looking at Aswon directly.
"I would consider myself a fair shot," Aswon responded modestly. "Unfortunately my heavy rifle was… waylaid in a recent operation."
"So tell me. If you were trying to set up for a long distance shot, something out at say fifteen hundred metres. What factors would you have to take into consideration?" The drawl had seemed to tighten up a little, the tone sharper and more direct as the man fixed Aswon with a stare. For a moment Aswon felt himself bristling – who was this man to be challenging him with tests or questions? But then he figured that he had nothing to lose by playing his game, except perhaps a little time.
"Wind speed and wind direction as the two primary – check the direction of foliage, dust and smoke at multiple points between firing point and target, establishing zones of difference. Humidity will affect projectile airspeed and disruption, as well as visibility of round wake. Elevation and air density will also affect ballistic performance over longer ranges to a noticeable effect. Firing position, in terms of cover, concealment, durability, and ease of access and egress. At really long ranges, the rotation of the earth can come into play, along with heartrate and respiration as the two chief biological processes that can affect shot placement."
"Bonza! Good answer, my friend. You seem to know your stuff. So – your last rifle. What was it?"
"An Accuracy International 12.7mm. It was a nice rifle, and I was upset to lose it."
"Well, I might have something for you. It's a… well, it's not as small as that, though." He flowed up from the chair, and any doubts they might have had to if the man had cyberware were immediately answered as he flowed upright with a grace and smoothness that made him look to be animated. Reaching down behind the tables, he gave an audible grunt and hefted a massive case up onto the table, letting it land with a resounding thud. He reached over and flipped the four catches open, then pulled up the lid, revealing a monstrous rifle lying inside, nestled in the protective foam padding. "Here you go… rifle, one – for the purposes of giving someone a really shitty day."
The rifle was huge, being a touch under two and a half metres long, a slab of black metal with sleek lines that disguised the incredibly heavy construction. A box magazine sat in a cut-out next to the rifle, revealing a monster cavity to put rounds into – though the capacity would be very low. As Aswon checked out the weapon, he noticed that the gun wasn't even fully assembled. A large muzzle brake was nestled into another cutout near the end of the barrel, and was waiting to be screwed onto the mounting at the end. This looked to be purely to handle the gas venting from firing, rather than providing any kind of silencing or suppressing of the noise.
"What… what calibre?" Aswon cleared his throat as he studied the weapon.
"Twenty mil, by 102 long. Fin-stabilised rounds, tungsten penetrators as standard. Good terminal characteristics. Average muzzle speed exceeds eleven hundred metres per second." Aswon whistled. "Of course, the rounds are beasts, so you only get three in the mag. But if you need more than three shots – well, someone's made a miscalculation, and you're all a bit frakked."
"How much? And what ammo can I get for it?"
"Well, they're not exactly cheap… but you seem to know what you're on about. So I can do you a deal, I'm sure. She's a hefty old beast though – make sure you got a good ride to hump her about in. Carry this bitch through the desert too far, you'll know about it! But I can do you the two box mags in the case, and a container of rounds… what the frak, it's been a quiet night. Eleven grand."
"That is a good deal, Kai. We should purchase this immediately." Aswon stared earnestly at Kai, who grinned at him.
"Alright, no problem. We'll take it."
"Bonza. Good call. How about a brewski?" The man didn't wait for an answer, but reached down into a cooler behind the table, pulled out a can of beer and threw it at Aswon, getting himself a second beer and popping it open, to take a deep swig from.
"What about rifle ammo?" Hunter asked. He carefully swung the assault rifle round on the sling, moving carefully to ensure it was never pointed at anyone, and making it clear the weapon was set to safe. He'd seen how the guy had moved when he stood up, and recognised the smoothness of some top-end wired reflexes. The last thing any of them needed was to give this guy some reason to twitch and get jumpy. Ejecting his magazine and clearing the chamber, he relaxed a little, then showed the rifle to the man.
"Yeah, I got some stuff that could work for you. Cop-killers, they call em. Good for penetrating standard body armour…" He set his beer down and rummaged through his boxes, until he found a small cardboard container that he could drop onto the table with a resounding thud. "Here you go, hundred rounds. Should fit that puppy, no problem. Three grand for you."
"Sold!" Hunter said quickly. He certainly wasn't going to give Kai the opportunity to say no – even if the price had been higher. Getting hold of armour-piercing ammunition was always a struggle without a decent contact, and he'd learnt long ago that cost was a relative term, more likely to bother the accountants than the people on the front lines. He got a smile, and a beer of his own, which he opened and toasted the Aussie with, before taking a hearty swig of his own.
"Here… you might want one of these as well." The man pulled out a card, printed with a matt black finish on which were three lines of text. The first said 'Bruce' – causing Hunter to snigger. The second said simply 'Guns', and the third was a matrix contact number. It was either elegant and stylish, or schoolboy simple – and he couldn't decide which was more likely.
"Do you have anything for a bow? Custom arrows, special flights, anything like that?"
"Nah, mate. Don't deal in the primitive stuff. Leave that to the abos."
"What else do you have?" Aswon asked quickly, before Kai could respond with something that might be unfortunate. "Several of the team also lost weapons in the…incident let's call it."
"It depends, mate. I tend to sell systems, more than individual weapons, you see. Solutions. Give me a use case, and I'll see if I have anything to fit it."
"Ok, something flexible. Small, but with a reasonable rate of fire. Say something that can be in the cockpit of our aircraft, where our pilot can get at it. Small enough to carry and move with, but able to give him some offensive or defensive options."
"Ah, right – gotcha. I might have something good for you, then." Once more he rummaged through some boxes, sorting through the flight cases one by one until he found the one he was after, then paid it out on top of the anti-material rifle, flipped the catches open and showed off the Steyr TMP sub-machine gun inside. "This one's nice – very good handling. The barrels been modified and fitted with a custom short stroke reciprocating vent piston, and some titanium bleed valves, along with a cam adjustment and pressure regulator. Will absolutely use enough of the gas to operate the feed mechanism and roller block, but then superb at venting off the additional excess and controlling muzzle climb. Thirty round magazines, and it's got six in the case. Enough regular ammo in there to load 'em all up to start off with as well, and there's a cleaning kit in the bottom corner. Two and a half."
"May I?" Marius asked, hovering his hands over the gun, until Bruce nodded. Like Hunter, he was careful as he removed the weapon from the case, keeping it aimed away from everyone – though this was more to do with a respect for the rules of gun safety than from upsetting the vendor. It felt good in his hands, nicely weighted and included the swivel mounts to attach a sling onto the system directly into the frame of the weapon. "I think this is another purchase." He turned to Kai and nodded in approval, before replacing the pristine gun into the case and sealing it shut. Bruce clearly approved, because a few seconds later another beer came sailing over the table, aimed at the pilot's chest. Marius thought about refusing, citing that he would be flying soon – but something told him that this would be considered a breach of etiquette, so he popped the can open and took a sip, toasting their host too. He could always take the remaining 95% with him and ditch it somewhere outside.
"Ok, one other thing we're interested in, is a hand-cannon. Something with, let's say authority. Something very meaty. Anything low capacity like a Desert Eagle or similar?"
"Hmm. Not much in like that…" Bruce took a sip, then smiled around the can, staring back at Aswon. "Hang on, though. I might have just the ticket." Once more he searched through the boxes, until he found a squat case. This one was placed on the table a little more carefully, and opened to reveal a futuristic looking pistol-gripped beast with styling from a science fiction show. Alternating rings of metallic substance ran down the barrel, and the handle had an enormous bulge at the bottom that made it look more like a cordless drill than a firearm. Kai looked down with interest though, recognising a few key features, and then looked back up at Bruce.
"Is that a taser?"
"Yup. The Ares Trollstoper X-7. Packs a crazy level of punch from the expanded battery, and with super-conductors built right in. They reckon it'll stop a hopped up trog full of 'roids."
"We'll take that too, then." Kai smiled, and got ready, catching the beer before it got anywhere near him. "So, let's total this up shall we?" He pulled out his credstick and then grimaced as Bruce punched in the prices, before deducting over twenty thousand Nuyen for the three weapons and box of ammunition. Still – they were rare and useful, and if it let them carry out a mission and earn a decent paycheck – it was probably going to be worth it.
With their guns paid for and picked up – and Aswon discovering just what Bruce meant when he had to heft the twenty-seven kilo rifle up onto his shoulder – they headed back to the Broadsword to drop off their purchases.
Checking the time, Kai looked around at them all.
"Right – let's go pick up the artwork, if there's no more shopping we want to do, and get this stuff back to the ranch. Shimazu could probably do with a day or two in bed, and I'm sure we've got stuff to do. Practice with our new toys, if nothing else!"
The team headed back towards the small building with the art dealers in, getting ready to pick up the painting and statues to start on their journey back towards the ranch, and ultimately Batumi, to deliver to Mr. Kulkachev.
