Never deal with a Dragon

14

All night long they were shunted from place to place in an assortment of vehicles. Roe told him that all the shuffling was supposed to throw off any pursuit, but Sam realized it was also to confuse him and Hanae so that they could never expose any facilities or people that were part of the runners’ network. Despite it all, Sam knew they were somewhere in the Redmond Barrens. He could smell the infamous “Tacoma aroma.” Not even the best shadowrunner trick could hide that.

The Redmond Barrens was not a nice place. Covering most of the old city of Tacoma, the Redmond District was officially part of the Seattle metroplex, but it was a slum mostly neglected by the government. That was even more true for Lone Star Security Services, who held the police contract for the plex. From what Sam had glimpsed during the transfers between vehicles, some parts of the district looked as though they had been through a war. The rest looked like the war was still going on.

The building where the van finally stopped was an old automobile sales facility, full of hollow echoes and old grease. The vehicle sat in a repair bay. When the bleary-eyed passengers rolled up the back door to debark, they found the feathered serpent coiled and waiting for them.

Hanae shrank back at the sight, gripping Sam as though he could protect her should the beast attack. Even the hardened runners seemed reluctant to exit the van near the serpent. Shouldering past them all, Roe walked up to the beast and ruffled the feathered mane at the back of its head.

To Sam’s amazement, he felt a hint of the dracoform’s pleasure from Roe’s caress. In some uncanny fashion, it was broadcasting its emotional state. He wondered if the others were feeling it too, then decided they must be. Everyone in the group had visibly relaxed. Even Hanae looked less tense. It was as though the Dragon had reassured them that it meant no harm.

“Hey, Roe,” Chin Lee called out. “This mean we gonna be here for a while?”

“Till dark anyway. Make yourself at home,” she answered without looking at them. “Sack if you want to.”

Sloan and Black Dog jostled past Sam and Hanae. Digging into a pile of sleeping pads heaped among some crates near the van, each appropriated a prize and dragged it to a separate corner. The rivalry that had flared occasionally during the ride continued as the two men watched each other warily through sleepy eyes. Kurt, who had spent the night in a variety of driving seats, never left the vehicle. He simply put his bead back against the rest and started snoring.

“Well, I’m hungry,” Chin Lee announced to no one in particular. Ever since emerging from the Commuter’s cockpit with Kurt, the Ork had been stuffing things into his mouth-krill wafers, soycakes, and a seemingly endless supply of Krak-L-Snaps. Now he rummaged around in a crate next to the one that had yielded the sleeping pads until he found a zip-heat package meal. Pulling the tab, he tossed it on a nearby oil drum to heat and rummaged some more. By the time his meal was hot, he had restocked the satchel at his side and tossed a half-dozen more meal packs on the drum, He opened his packet, breaking out the eating utensil on his way back to the vehicle. Flopping down on the van’s tail, he stirred the contents of the packet and began shoveling the gooey mess into his mouth.

“You two help yerselfs,” he mumbled around a mouth-full.

Hanae looked a little green, but Sam thanked the Ork. He led Hanae around to the side of the van, careful to stay between her and the dracoform. The runners were ignoring them, though Sam felt sure someone would get plenty interested if they attempted to leave.

After settling Hanae in a relatively clean spot between the boxes, he fetched a pad and blanket from those the other runners had rejected, He made another trip to gather a pair of the least awful looking food packs and a six-pack of Fizzygoo; the jugged water looked even less drinkable than the Fizzygoo. As expected, Hanae wouldn’t even look at the stuff, but she would be hungry later. He lay down next to her and held her until she fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

Sam was tired, too, but sleep was fugitive, vanishing from his grasp as had his former dreams of a happy corporate life. Carefully disengaging from Hanae, he sat up. He wasn’t really hungry but had nothing better to do, so he set a meal pack to heating. As he leaned back to wait, Roe appeared at the outer edge of their crate-walled sanctuary.

“Better get some sleep, chummer.”

“Too much to think about.”

“Oh, ho. Tough work, thinking.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. Roe seemed relaxed, though as exhausted as the rest of them. Perhaps her tiredness would lower her guard enough to let slip some clue to what he had gotten Hanae into. “I’ve been thinking about that fellow in the van.”

Roe gave a tired chuckle. “Kurt sleeps like that all the time. He’ll be fine when it’s time to roll.”

Was she deliberately misunderstanding him? “Not him. The Renraku executive whose name no one seems to know.”

“Names can be dangerous,” she warned. “I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand. I’m not asking because you’ve made it clear you don’t want me to know.” Sam didn’t have to pretend concern. “I’m just worried about him. He’s been unconscious all night.”

“And it looks like he’ll stay that way a while longer.” She reached out and snagged one of the ration packs. With a deft flick of the wrist, she opened it and snapped the eating tool free of the cover. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Sam. We’re not sedating him or subjecting him to mind-control drugs or anything like that. It’s a side effect.

“Simulating an illness was a good way to get him out of the arcology, and he agreed. He came up with the idea for his own ailment, and even got the drug that would fake it. From his med file, we knew that the injection might induce a temporary catatonia, so we brought along what we needed to make sure he’d come out all right. He was very anxious to leave and thought it was a reasonable risk.

“Paid off, too. His vital signs are stable, so don’t you worry Trust us,” she cajoled, offering the tray from which she’d been eating. “He trusts us.”

Sam took the offered food, but said nothing. They traded the packet back and forth until it was all gone, then he opened a Fizzygoo for her. She accepted it with a look of distaste, then lifted it in a toast and downed half the container.

“What happened to the albino?”

She eyed him for a moment, but he couldn’t read her expression. She shrugged. “Got sloppy and got caught while we Were getting your compatriot out.”

“His loss just a part of the marginal costs of business, like Greta?”

Roe carefully placed the Fizzygoo packet on top of one of the crates before speaking. “Look, Sam. We all know the risks when we take on a job like this. Renraku is in the big leagues. They play rough. We runners live on the edge, betting our lives that our skills, knowledge and luck are enough to keep our butts from being boiled. Sometimes we lose.”

“Why didn’t you do something to recover her? Why did you leave her behind?”

Roe closed her eyes and hung her head. “Didn’t you see? She was head-shot. Medicines real good these days and magic can do quite a bit, too, if the mage knows the right spells. But she didn’t have a hope in hell.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief at her callousness “Don’t you feel any loyalty to her? To the others?”

“As much as they feel for me.”

“In other words, none.”

She looked away, then said softly, “They’re getting paid.”

“Just like you.”

“No credit, no fun in this world,” she said with a laugh. Sam didn’t hear much joy in that laugh. “Then you’re only in this for money.”

“Why not? Pays better than doing it for free.” Sam’s disappointment surprised him. He should have expected no more from her.

The feathered serpent unfurled its wings, arching its neck upward in a sudden burst of motion. The ebony talons of one hind paw scraped gouges in the cement floor as it sent waves of resentment tinged with something else. Sam thought the emotion felt a little like fear. Roe was up in a flash, searching the darkened end of the building toward which the serpent gazed.

At the far end of the bay, one of the great doors rumbled upward. A black limousine purred into the building, its polished paintwork, chrome, and dark windows reflecting the dinginess of the surroundings as it rolled to a stop. Protective guards snapped automatically into place over the tires.

The rear door opened, and after a moment, a man emerged. Lean and dark, he moved with elegant grace. His clothes, too, were impeccably tailored, showing neither wrinkle nor spot. Scanning the chamber once, he strode purposefully toward the van.

Roe met him halfway, and the two talked quietly for a few minutes. Sam couldn’t hear much, but he did make out Greta’s name. The man seemed pleased. He spoke briefly again, and Roe responded, once gesturing toward Sam and Hanae. Within moments, she was escorting the visitor in their direction. Sam stood as they approached, stepping away from Hanae so not to be disturb her.

“Sam, this is your benefactor, Mr. Drake.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Sam offered his hand.

Drake ignored it as he looked Sam up and down. “Ms. Roe has told me of the modification to the plan. I trust you understand your position.”

Sam was confused by the reference to a modification. “Excuse me?”

“Ms. Roes arrangement with you was done without my knowledge. I would never have approved.”

Sam didn’t know whether to be startled or apologetic.

“But I am not heartless, Mr. Verner. And I know this kind of business requires a certain flexibility. You and your lady friend may take advantage of our guest’s transportation arrangements so long as you do not endanger his reaching his destination. I will impose no additional costs or obligations on you beyond requiring that you swear not to interfere with Ms. Roe’s execution of her contract with me. Is this satisfactory?”

What could Sam say? Roe doing her job for Drake only helped him and Hanae. “Yes.”

“Very well then. Both you and Ms. Roe must understand that, from this point on, you are her responsibility.”

Sam nodded.

Drake smiled his satisfaction “Since we understand each other, Mr. Verner, I wish you and your lady friend a pleasant journey.”

With that, Drake returned to his car and was gone again in less than a minute. Roe had drifted back to the feathered serpent. Reluctant to go near the beast, Sam refrained from confronting her about why she had pretended that Drake was part of the offer to extract him from Renraku. Had she wanted to increase her status in his eyes? Or was it just a petty lie, indicating that he couldn’t trust anything she said? He didn’t understand what would motivate such behavior, but the increasing suspicion that he was surrounded by duplicity made Sam uncomfortable and very, very nervous.

Shadowrunners were dangerous. Living outside the law, they had little respect for It. If he got in their way, it was doubtful they would search for a legal solution. The other runners he had met, Tsung’s people, had seemed to have a code. Rough and selfish perhaps, but still a standard of behavior. Roe’s crew seemed less… finicky.

And Drake, their master, was as hard as any of them. But that wasn’t really surprising. He was likely a shark in the corporate world. Drake’s easy expectation that everyone around him would jump at his call told Sam that his toughness was no facade. The dark man showed greater confidence in his own power than even Kansayaku Sato. The man obviously had control over his runners, which was saying a lot. Sam may not have seen it all, but he’d seen enough to know that nerve and grit were almost sacred among those who dwelt in the shadows of the corporate world. Drake had warned him not to interfere with Roe. Did he think that Sam and Hanae’s presence might jeopardize his carefully laid plans? If so, why was he willing to settle for the pittance that would be his share of the finder’s fee for Sam? Wouldn’t he want an increased return from an increased risk? Drake would expect something in return for his generosity. Sam didn’t like not knowing what Drake’s game was, but he hadn’t dared question the mans offer.

Other things about the deal bothered him even more. No matter what story Roe gave him, Sam thought it likely that Mr. Drake’s “guest,” the unconscious man in the truck, was leaving Renraku involuntarily the victim of a kidnapping. For their own reasons, the runners did not want Sam or Hanae to know that. The two of them would probably be safe as long as they never questioned the story. Perhaps the runners wanted someone to attest that the extraction had been voluntary rather than hostile.

He and Hanae would have to go along, with no questions asked. These runners had shown no reluctance to use their weapons.

The prospect of that sort of violence was frightening enough, but people’s violence didn’t hold the elemental terror of the Dragon. Sam knew too many documented cases of dracoforms making meals of people. The thought of Hanae’s tender body being chewed to a bloody pulp in the serpent’s toothy jaws nearly brought his meal back up.

All he could do now was keep his word to Drake. Interfering with the extraction would only put Hanae in more danger. He would keep his eyes and ears open, and they would escape the runners, soon as he could find a way. Delivery of Drake’s guest was the runners’ primary concern; they wouldn’t bother to chase him and Hanae down. At least, he hoped they wouldn’t.

Sam moved back to the niche where Hanae slept, assured that he would protect her. How could he betray that trust? He had to see her to safety if he could.

He sat down where he could see her face in the predawn light filtering into the building. She looked so peaceful. He leaned his head back against a crate; it was hours before sleep finally came.