Fortune's Hostage ~ Chapter Six
Title: Fortune's Hostage
Author: Aislinn
Rating : R / Gen.
M7 set in the Shadowrun AU
Sci-fi / Action Adventure
Warnings : mention of rape, violence, language, kidnapped child , mention of child abuse
Summary :: Mary Travis's son Billy is kidnapped and she and Judge Orrin Travis hire a team of seven Shadowrunners to get him back.
Disclaimer.:: Not mine.
A/N : Smarts- search programs designed to look for things independently of a decker.
Doc Wagon - Provider of elite emergency medical services. Doc Wagonwill not respond to calls on extraterritorial government or corporate property without permission from that controlling authority.
ghouls (Homo sapiens wichtusare) a mutation caused by a virus known as HMHVV (Human Meta-Human Vampiric Virus). While they are not un-dead, they do exhibit the same vampire-like behavior.
Go gang - motorcycle gang.
Witsec- Witness protection
Soycaf- Coffee substitute.
Coffin motel - small coffin size cubicles containing just a bed.
APC- Armored Personal Carrier - aka City Master
Vindicator - mini-gun, a hard mounted gun like a Gatlin gun.
Trid- Trideo - 3D T.V.
Razor - slang term for a street samurai
Scan- see
Ch. 6
"That which does not kill me is dead when I'm through with it."~ Lobo - Street samurai
Ezra dropped Mask off at the airport with a kiss and a promise to call. Arriving back at the safe house with Chinese take-out he was mobbed by the others, who snatched the bags of food out of his hands as if they hadn't eaten in days.
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Carletti kicked in the door and burst into the room, he cursed to find it empty. Somehow the bitch had known they were coming. He whirled and stalked out of the abandoned house. "Gone," he growled to the rest of his team.
"Louis, got word from Franco. Der's anoter team looking for da slitch and de kid. He said the boss wants us to take dem out. Only one problem; it's Lobo's team."
Louis stopped in his tracks and turned to Joey. "What did you say? Whose team?"
"Lobo's," the orc answered.
The steady stream of curses went on for what seemed like hours.
Joey almost smiled, but all he could think was that Louis was right. They truly were caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, and he wasn't sure which was which, between the boss and Lobo. Don't get the slitch and kid, and the boss would kill 'em. Catch them, and Lobo would kill 'em. Hell, Witsec was looking better all the time.
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JD jacked out with a smile. "Lobo! I need ya," he called.
"Coming."
JD puttered around while he waited, straightening his desk. Unlike many deckers' work areas, he prided himself on keeping his pristine; every cable bundled, every tool neatly put away when not in use, no food or drink allowed within ten feet of his desk.
It didn't take long for Chris to enter the room, two steaming cups of soycaf in his hands. He set them both down on the table by the door. "Ok, what'd ya got?"
"I set up a bunch of smarts before we left for the mountains and one of them found something." JD handed Chris a grainy holo of a woman and child.
Chris walked over to take the picture. "Where was this?"
"Purgatorio."
"Get the boys."
JD nodded and grabbed the coffee before heading down the hall to the kitchen.
"Ezra?" He stopped next to the table, but the shaman didn't even look up. Ezra simply poured another shot and tossed it back. "You ok?"
Ezra flashed him a brilliant smile. "Never better, JD. Am I to conclude that we have a direction for our inquiries?" He poured a second shot and passed it to JD.
JD chuckled as he sat down and took the drink with a nod. "If you mean do we have a lead, then yeah. Found a pic of the slitch that nabbed the kid out in Purgatorio." He toyed with the shot glass for a moment, then poured the whiskey into his cup of coffee and took an appreciative sip.
Ezra groaned. "Dear Lord Almighty, did it have to be that misbegotten, God-forsaken, pestilent hell hole? Why is it, my friend that every miscreant we have the misfortune of dealing with runs straight into the worst war zone west of the Mississippi? Could not even one of them have the good taste to book into the Ritz rather than some seedy coffin motel?" He scowled, "I implore you, is that asking too much?"
Buck flopped down in a seat next to Ezra and stared at him for a moment. "Bitch, bitch, bitch. Damn, Ezra, next thing you know you'll wanna be on top."
Ezra abruptly stopped his tirade and ran an assessing eye over Buck's tall frame. "Why, Buck," he drawled with a sly wink. "Are you offering to bottom?"
JD spewed out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken while Buck stared at Ezra in shock. "Uh… umm…"
Ezra leaned in close and ran a finger along Buck's jaw, "What's wrong, Bucklin? Cat got yer tongue?" He gave Buck a slow, sexy grin.
Buck shot him a horrified look and batted his hand away. He jumped up like he'd been shocked and headed for the door.
Ezra called out, "I guess this means our date is off?"
JD burst out laughing. "Damn, Ezra, that was evil," he said admiringly.
"He started it," Ezra smirked.
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Chris strode into the garage area and leaned over the rail. "JD, get the City Master ready. Make sure you have your drones and all your decking stuff too."
JD rolled out from under the APC. He wiped his greasy hands on a rag and sat up. "You got it, Chris. I take it we won't be back here for awhile?"
"No, we won't, so make sure you have all yer toys. Did you get that extra armor installed like you wanted? And did you get that Vindicator mounted?"
JD grinned. "Yep. Wait'll ya see it, Chris," he jumped to his feet and bounced on his toes. "This ol' girl's gonna be hell on wheels." He patted the big APC fondly.
"Good job. We may need it." Chris headed back into the house to get the rest of the team ready.
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Purgatorio- even the name conjured up images of the hellhole the zone had become; burnt out, rusted warehouses, junked vehicles, and piles of trash littered the zone. At night the ghouls came out, and the only safe havens where indoors. Not even the Star came in without full riot gear and a squad of SWAT to back them up, and Doc Wagon had a provision of non-support for the whole district. The zone was in a constant state of flux and war as go gangs and bands of ghouls battled over turf, and survival was problematic.
JD guided the Citymaster down the streets, one drone scouting ahead, and the other flying high cover. He snorted contemptuously when a go gang had the collective stupidity to attack them. He triggered the drop bucket and scattered caltrops and oil behind them. It was all over in seconds. What the caltrops didn't get, the oil slick did and the go gang went down, bikes and bodies littering the street behind them. JD threaded the narrow, clogged streets with casual ease until they arrived at the safe house, their headquarters for the foreseeable future.
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"Vin, I want you and 'Siah to check out the hotel. See what you can get from the clerk." Chris sank down into his office chair.
"All right."
"And Falcon? Watch yer back."
Vin shot him a cocky grin. "Always do."
Chris rolled his eyes and grinned back.
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The Four Corners motel was old when the Treaty of Denver was signed in 2018, but now it was ancient. The rundown buildings sheltered whores, junkies, gangers and other assorted lowlifes. Vin's nose wrinkled at the sour smell of the lobby, and the worse smell of the troll clerk. He set a cred stick on the edge of the counter. "Need a room. 215."
The clerk scratched himself and handed him a keycard without even looking away from the Urban Brawl game on the trid.
Vin turned away and walked out the door. He quickly crossed the lot to the car where Josiah waited. He drove around the building, carefully maneuvering around the potholes and burnt-out, rusted cars that littered the parking lot. Once he found 215 he parked next to the stairs. "You wanna do some recon 'fore we go up, Prophet?"
"Yes, considering this area, that, as Ace would say, would be prudent." The two exchanged a grin.
Josiah leaned against the car door, and stepped out of his body into the astral. In the distance he noted furtive movement, but it wasn't close enough to be a threat so he dismissed it. Other than inside a few of the rooms, nothing moved nearby. He slipped back into his body and nodded. "All clear for now. Let's head upstairs."
They stepped out of the car, ascended the stairs, and quickly moved down the walkway. Vin slotted the keycard, and they stepped into the room. The late afternoon sun did nothing to improve the squalor of the place. Tattered carpet left from the beginning of the century crunched underfoot, and a sagging bed and dilapidated furniture lined the walls that were painted with the most hideous color Vin had ever seen. The smell of old smoke clung to the curtain, adding an under note to the mildew in the bathroom. Vin gagged at the stench. "Damn, sometimes enhanced senses suck! That poor kid…" He stopped, unable to complete the thought.
Prophet laid a hand on his shoulder. "We will find him and bring him home, but God help the woman who took him when Lobo and Ace get their hands on her."
Vin nodded. "Yeah, gonna get ugly." He shook off the thought. "Let's get to work, and see if we can find anything."
While Vin searched the room with mundane methods, Josiah called up a hearth spirit. It was as shabby as the buildings it called home, but was informative and now they had a name to go with the face- Margaret.
Vin gave the room one last cursory look, and stepped out of the door onto the landing. Every hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up, and he was moving without thought. He crashed into Prophet, taking him to the ground. He heard the crack of the sniper round and his shoulder went numb as the round impacted his armored jacket.
Two more rounds smacked into the concrete by his face, and the shards stung his face and hands. He crawled frantically, for the stairs dragging Josiah along behind him. He screamed as a round ripped through his leg, and he knew he wouldn't be able to put any weight on it. He desperately tried to get the pain under control. "Prophet! You hit?" He rolled over only to find Prophet unconscious, blood pouring from a head wound. He prayed it was from the takedown, not a bullet, but at the moment he didn't have the leisure to check. It was up to him to get them clear.
The stairwell gave them a measure of cover, not ideal, but enough to try and locate the sniper. He dragged Prophet down with him and they huddled against the wall. Vin fumbled at his waist pack, and dug through it until he found two trauma patches. He slapped one on his leg, and the other on Josiah's head wound. The blood slowed to a trickle as the patch took effect. Prophet groaned and tried to pull away from Falcon's embrace. "Stay still. We're under fire."
Obediently, Josiah stopped moving. "Falcon, you ok?"
"No, I'm hit. One in the calf."
Josiah frowned, "You've been hit twice. There's another one through your hip." He reached out and fingered the hole in Vin's jacket. "Shit, he's using armor piercing rounds! Son of a bitch! We're in trouble, Falcon."
"Fuck, didn't even feel the second one."
Josiah chuckled "Let's hear it for adrenaline. Ok, watch my meat, and I'll go try and pinpoint that sniper." He gave Vin a grin, and leaped into the astral. He moved with the speed of thought, searching the nearby structures for the one who had them pinned. An aura flared, catching his attention, and he knew he had the man. He returned to his body and called his fire elemental, giving it a command to take him out. Hellfire and brimstone rained down and the sniper's screams pierced the gathering gloom.
Vin flinched as the screams echoed off the building. "Damn, Prophet, remind me never to piss you off."
Josiah grinned ferally. "Carpe Jugulum, Vin. Hurt my brothers, and die."
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Frank jerked back in horror as his cousin went up in flames. His screams over the comlink sent chills down the spotter's spine. He knew that if he was going to survive this he needed to get away unseen. He low crawled across the roof and slipped in the half opened door. He didn't draw a full breath until he got back to the car and pulled away. He pounded the steering wheel in frustrated rage and grief; the boss was going to be very unhappy. He pulled over, and with a grimace, turned the car around and headed back. "No way, you're not gonna get away with this," he growled under his breath. He pulled his Predator out of the holster, and as he drove back by the motel he spotted the two Shadowrunners crossing the parking lot, and opened fire. The first round hit the mage, and he went down in a shower of blood. Frank kept pulling the trigger until the gun clicked empty, then he floored it and fishtailed out of the lot and onto the road. He never felt the armor piercing round that hit the back of his skull, exited between his eyes and shattered the windshield.
Vin tossed his rifle back into the back seat of the car and frantically tried to stabilize Josiah. After applying a trauma patch he staggered to the car half dragging, half carrying the dwarf. He laid Josiah's shoulders in the back seat and went around to the other side, then grabbed the mage under the arms and dragged him the rest of the way into the car.
He knew there was a possibility that they would be followed, but with Prophet down it was a chance they would have to take, so he headed back to the safe house. He was in no condition for another firefight, and he knew if he didn't get help soon his friend could die. He flexed hands covered in blood and prayed. His vision grayed in and out, and he grimaced as he felt his blood flowing down his leg into his socks. Darkness closed in and he couldn't hold it at bay any longer. The car crashed into a junked heap at the corner of their street, and ground to a halt.
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Ezra's head snapped up as the little watcher spirit he had patrolling their block streaked into the room screaming at the top of its lungs and at a million miles a minute.
“HurthurthurtFoxymanFalconhurtbadbadbadcomecomecomeProphet hurthurthhurtcomecomecomenowhurry!”
He launched himself out of his chair, and hit the stairs at a dead run heading for the garage following the spirit. "LOBO!" he yelled into the comlink. "Prophet and Falcon are in trouble!" He grabbed the railing and jumped, clearing a full landing, and then sprinted out the door to the large bay.
Ezra threw himself on one of the bikes, and hit the door remote. Revving the engine, he shot out into the street and laid the bike into a low turn, his knee brushing the pavement before straightening. Ahead he saw the car smoking and furtive movement around it. He hit the horn and goosed the engine to a loud whine. Behind him he heard the full-throated roar of Chris and Buck's Harleys and the whine of JD and Nathan's Yamahas. He slid to a stop next to the car, and with a flinging motion sent a wave of pure mana crashing over the ghouls on the other side of the car. One of them screeched and crumpled to the pavement, and the others scattered. Ezra wrenched open the door and dragged Vin into the street, and then went back for Josiah. Chris joined him, and they pulled the dwarf from the back seat just as the engine fire flared to life with a dull kawump.
Nathan pushed him aside, and fell to his knees next to the two men. "Ferret, go get transport. We need to get them back to the house," he commanded. He removed the trauma patches while Ezra cast a heal spell on each of them. The rest could wait until they were safe.
It only took a few minutes for JD to bring the City Master, and they loaded their injured teammates into it, abandoning the car to the denizens of the night.
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Vin opened his eyes and blinked blearily. His body ached in so many places he wasn't sure where to start categorizing. He bit back a groan as he shifted, struggling to sit up; searching the darkness for Josiah. "Prophet?" he whispered urgently.
"Easy, Vin," a voice whispered in the dark. A hand brushed his hair back and rested on his forehead. "You're safe, and Josiah's still alive." Real names; he slumped in relief. He had made it back, and somehow the voice knew what he needed most. He clutched that knowledge to his heart and drifted back to sleep, content to give watch over his friend to the others.
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Josiah opened his eyes in response to the steady stream of curses, counting at least six languages: Sioux, Kiowa, Comanche, Spanish, English, Sperethiel… Sperethiel? Huh, who knew the elves could be so… descriptive? He chuckled, "Ya know, for someone so quiet, you sure can cuss Vin."
"Fuck you, Prophet! Damn it, Nathan, that hurts, quit it!"
Nathan smacked Vin's hand away. "It has to be cleaned out. Now lie still, or I will sedate you!" Nathan growled.
Vin cussed again. Josiah laughed. "Damn, Vin. How many languages do you know?"
"Laugh it up, preacher man. You're next!" Vin snarled. Then he laughed when Josiah swore.
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"They were waiting for us, Chris." Vin scratched his healing leg. "Had to be. Sniper was already in position when we walked out on the landing. Second attack was probably from his spotter."
"Is this another team, or just random?" Chris mused.
"And are they going to try again?" Buck added.
Ezra sat forward. "Gentlemen, you are forgetting the most important question."
Chris frowned. "Which is?"
"Is the target just Vin and Josiah, or the whole team? Because, I assure you, the answer to that changes the entire equation," Ezra stated.
"Good point. Ok, to be safe we're going to assume the whole team is the target, and that we're dealing with a team. Nobody goes out alone, and watch your six!" Chris ordered.
"On the plus side," Josiah smiled, "we have the kidnappers name- Margaret- and we have enough samples to try and do another ritual to find them. Only this time I'm not going after Billy. I'm going after her. Brothers, I think she just got sloppy."
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Josiah pushed open the door to the small office and entered without knocking. "We got her." He scooted over to make room for Ezra.
Chris looked up from the desk, and settled back in his chair with a cold smile. "Confirmed?"
"Yes, indeed. I had a watcher follow the trail. She is there with the boy right now," Ezra said
"Let's go."
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Hunter sidled up behind Bert, and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. The rat shaman jumped and turned his back to the wall, his thin features twisting into a snarl. Hunter followed, crowding the smaller man into a corner. "If she catches you looking at that kid like that again, she's gonna have your fuckin' balls in a vice. And if you touch him, I'll kill you myself. You got that, ya freak?"
Bert nodded. "I didn't do nothing," he squeaked.
Hunter slammed him back into the wall. "Make sure that you don't. You don't go near him, you don't look at him, you just do yer damn job, ya scan?"
Bert shivered at the promise in the razor's eyes. He ducked his head. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."
Hunter threw him down the hall to the open bay. "Don't let me catch you back down here again." He turned, and walked away, missing the look of savage hatred the shaman shot him.
"Oh, you won't catch me again, fer sure." Bert whispered.
Archangel stopped Hunter as he walked by. He jerked his chin back toward the rat shaman. "He gonna be a problem?"
Hunter glanced back over his shoulder. "Probably. Keep an eye on him, and whatever you do, don't turn yer back on him."
Archangel shuddered. "Not bloody likely, mate," he snorted. "The others are waiting for ya. You think the Seventh is gonna hit tonight?"
Hunter shrugged. "Never know what Lobo is gonna do. That's why the Seventh is so fucking good. I tried to tell her, but she ain't listenin'. We never should've taken this damn job, Angel," he said bleakly.
"Yeah, well, we're stuck. We took her yen. We leave now and there goes our rep. Gonna have to play it out and hope we survive," Angel replied fatalistically. "Well…" He glanced back at Bert, "most of us at least. One way or another, that little prick is going down."
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Louis lifted his aching head and stared blearily at his fellow mobster. "Please, tell me you found her."
Joey smiled, "We found 'er. She's holded up in a warehouse over in Purgatorio. Got a shadow team wit' her- Skid Row- Hunter's bunch. "
Louis frowned. "Huh, they don't usually do jobs like this. How'd they get hooked up with Margaret?"
"Word is der last run was hosed. Dey lost half the team, so I guess dey need da yen." He shrugged.
"Yeah? Well, they can just get out of the way, or lose the other half," Louis snarled. "I am tired of fucking around with this bitch."
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"He's pacing again," Isack said lazily.
Archangel glanced over at his cousin. Hunter was running his hand through his short, red hair as he walked, leaving it standing on end as if he was in the middle of a lightning storm. He snorted. It felt like the beginning of a storm. Something was going to go down tonight- he could feel it in his bones. "When Hunter paces, you best be ready for what's coming. Go get geared up," he ordered.
The twins, Smoke and Fire, exchanged glances, and obeyed the order.
Isack just waved a hand and went back to his game.
Angel smacked the game from his hand, and dragged him to his feet by his collar. "I told you to gear up," he snarled.
"Fine, fat lot of good I'll do ya though." Isack shook off his hands and slipped on his armored jacket. "There. Satisfied?"
"Not by a long shot, but it will have to do. Anybody seen Bert?"
Smoke spoke up. "Last time I saw him, he was checking the perimeter. Want us to go find him?"
Angel thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, you better. Make sure he ain't anywhere near that kid."
Smoke nodded. "Yeah, that rat is one sick fragger."
"You two, watch yer six."
"Always. Let's go, Fire."
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Dead air was the first indication that it had started, followed by Fire's wail as his twin went down. The crack of a sniper rifle sounded and the wail was cut short.
Hunter lunged for the doorway. "Angel, yer with me!" The two men ran down the hall to the office where Billy was staying. They burst through the door to find the child gone and Margaret's lifeless body on the floor with her throat cut. Angel slipped on the blood pool, and went down to his knees. Hunter swore, recognizing the rat shaman's handiwork, and dragged his cousin up by the back of his jacket. They bolted back down the hallway, heading for the perimeter. Angel snagged Hunter just before they reached the open bay, and pulled him down to the floor. He flinched as a round slammed into the wall where his head had just been. Their forward momentum propelled both samurai into the bay, leaving them in the open.
Hunter screamed as the first round penetrated his jacket. He rolled, frantically searching for some form of cover. Angel rolled the other way, also looking for a place to hunker down. Wired reflexes kicked in, and Hunter scrambled to his feet. He sprinted for cover, drawing the attention of the shooters. His body jerked as more rounds hit him, but his pain suppressor kicked in and he kept going. He caught a brief glimpse of one of the gunmen; short black hair slicked back, a narrow face with an impressive nose. "Shit, that's Carletti!" He gasped. "Angel, move! Get to cover now!"
As Hunter skidded to a halt behind one of the vehicles he got another look at Carletti, Bert joined him, one hand firmly grasping the child's collar. Hunter growled in frustration as they disappeared out the back door, but the crossfire kept him from pursuing them. He turned back as Angel screamed in pain. "Hang on, Angel, I'm coming."
"Get the kid!" Angel urged. "Forget me, and go after them!"
"Angel, shut the fuck up. I can't get to them right now. We have to survive. Afterward we will worry about the kid. You got any cover?"
"Yeah, now I do. I'm down in the oil bay."
"Ok, stay put and I'll get to you. Fire and Smoke are down, pretty sure they're dead. Isack?" He cursed when there was no answer from the decker. " 'Kay, sounds like it's just you and me, bro. How bad are you hit?"
"Got hit three, maybe four times, none that bad that I can see." Archangel's voice was heavy with pain. "You?"
"At least two. Not sure. Pain suppressor's kicked in."
His cousin chuckled. "Well, let's try and avoid any more, 'cause this sucks."
Slowly the sound of gunfire tapered off and silence settled over the warehouse. "Hunter?" Angel waited a minute for Hunter, but when he got no answer to his query he cautiously emerged from the bay, and made his way shakily over to where his cousin lay. Hunter was sprawled unconscious behind one of the vehicles in a slowly growing pool of blood. Angel dragged him back into the hallway looking for a more defensible spot. Finally he had to stop and regroup. He sat down heavily and applied trauma patches to both of them. He shut his eyes, telling himself he would just rest for a moment. Then slowly he felt his grasp on consciousness fade, and he fell over next to Hunter.
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"Damn it!" Chris swore. He picked his way through the detritus of the battle. He knew when he saw the woman's corpse that Billy would be gone as well.
"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for one lil' kid, don't it?" Vin asked.
"Ah, but please do recall, Falcon, that said child is the grandson of a prominent judge. Control the boy, control the bench," Ezra theorized.
"Lobo, we got a couple of survivors over here and you're gonna wanna talk to em. It's Hunter and Archangel from Skid Row." Buck subvocalized. "And bring Ace or Prophet. These two have more holes in 'em than Swiss cheese."
"Coming." Chris motioned Ezra to precede him and they made their way to the back room and through a concealed door to a long hallway.
At the end of the passage Buck crouched next to two men. He was speaking softly to one of them as the others approached. He glanced up, and made way for Ezra and Chris.
Chris squatted down next to Hunter while Ezra cast his heal spells. "Hey, Hunter. Looks like yer having a bad day there, omea."
Hunter laughed, his smile more than half grimace as pain shot through his side. "Damn, don't make me laugh, Lobo. Gotta say, I'm glad it wasn't you." He reached out and clasped Chris's arm with a bloodied hand. "Lobo, you gotta go get that kid back. Carletti's the one who took him, and you know what that means."
"Shit! Carletti's one of D'Agostino's hitters." Chris sat back on his heels. "That puts a whole new perspective on this thing."
"Yeah, you could say that. You gotta watch out for that fucking rat shaman Bert too. He killed Margaret, and turned the kid over to Carletti."
Ezra snarled. "Rat shaman?" He wrinkled his nose. "I do so detest rodents."
"Yeah, me too, and this guy is one sick scumbag. The way he looked at that kid made my skin crawl. I tried to keep him away, but he got by us." Hunter grinned as Ezra's green eyes flashed with primal fury. Bert didn't know it, but from the look on the fox shaman's face, the rat was a dead man walking. His only regret was that he wouldn't be the one to pull the trigger.
Chris laid a calming hand on the shaman's shoulder. "We'll get him, but right now you and Angel need a doctor. DT knows a street doc and he and Ferret are going to get you two over there. We'll meet up with ya when this is over."
"Appreciate it, Lobo. We owe ya one. You ever need backup, you call," Hunter promised.
Chris nodded and walked away, grinning at his shaman's subvocalized muttering as to the probable ancestry and certain future of the rat shaman.
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