Fortune's Vengence
Title: Fortune's Vengeance
Author: Aislinn
Rating : R / Gen.
M7 set in the Shadowrun AU
Sci-fi / Action Adventure
Warnings : violence, language
Summary: D'Agostino's bid to gain control of Judge Orrin Travis was ruined by Chris Larabee, aka Lobo, and the men of The Seventh. Now he is determined to make them pay and he has pulled out all the stops.
Shadowrun n.-- Any movement, action, or series of such made in carrying out plans which are illegal or quasilegal. --WorldWide WordWatch, 2050 update
Lonestar Security ~ This mega corporation has taken over the job of local police departments.
H&K227 SMG -- Heckler and Koche 227-S Submachine Gun.
Ares Predator -- the most common heavy pistol found on the streets. The Predator is a heavy semi-auto pistol w/ smartlink.
chummer ~ street slang - friend or buddy.
Matrix - the internet has long been replaced by a 3D matrix with full emersion: to access it programmers (deckers) use a deck that plugs directly into their brain. The world within the matrix is controlled by the decker’s mind - with 3d representations of data and actions: It could look like a cartoon; a film noir... almost anything imaginable and a few, bend the imagery and data to their will.
jacker - Military slang for decker/ rigger. It is more usual to do one or the other, but not both.
null persp - street slang - no sweat. short for null perspiration.
DMZ - Demilitarized Zone - an area where combat is prohibited
Ch. 1
When everything is going according to plan, expect an ambush.-Street proverb
Ezra’s plane landed at precisely 2:40 but it was another 25 minutes of waiting for tired corpers, screaming brats and harried parents to clear the way before he, who was sitting in the second to the last row of the plane, could make his way down the aisle and into the terminal. He throttled down his impatient desire to use a force wave to clear his path, snickering at the image of the brat who had been sitting behind him plastered to the bulkhead. It would serve the little shit right for kicking his seat all the way from SeaTac to Denver. However, given that the boy’s mother was an orc, and might take physical exception to his teaching the child the value of good manners, he decided that perhaps discretion was better than revenge...just this once, no matter how satisfying it might be to teach the child a sharp lesson.
Once the immediate area around his seat was clear, he stood and shrugged into his navy blue suit coat, tugged down the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, and straightened his cobalt blue tie. He smoothed one hand over the tie which had been a gift from Mask. He had feebly protested the expenditure on real silk but she said it brought out the green in his eyes and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He smiled wistfully, missing her already. Then he reached up to the above compartment, gathered his carry on and made his way down the narrow aisle. He nodded politely to the flight attendant as he passed and free at last from the confines of the aircraft he made his way down the tunnel to the waiting area.
From there it was only a short walk over to baggage claim but the walkway was crowded with passengers coming and going so it took him longer than expected. His head ached from the cacophony of voices and intercoms announcing incoming and outgoing flights, and all he could think about was getting home and sitting down with a cup of real coffee and some peace and quiet. He nimbly dodged around a pile of luggage and a family standing in front of a callboard and threaded his way through the crowd before taking the escalator down to the ground floor. It was a little less crowded in this section of the terminal and everyone was going the same way so he made better time. As he rounded the last corner he was surprised to see a familiar duster and the lanky form of his fellow elven teammate waiting for him. Vin was casually leaning up against a pillar, cleaning his nails with a tiny pocketknife that looked harmless, but Ezra knew Vin and that little blade would be sharp enough to wound the wind. Vin straightened up when Ezra come into view and the small knife disappeared into the pocket of his well-worn jeans. He flipped his long golden-brown ponytail back over his shoulder as he moved away from the pillar and grinned a welcome.
Ezra flashed a quick smile as he strode over to join his partner while he waited for his luggage. “Falcon. This is a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to be picked up.”
“Hoi, Ace. Lobo called us in. Thought you might appreciate saving a few ‘yen on a cab.” He glanced over at his friend noting his relaxed stance. “So... how was Mask?” Vin grinned remembering his last meeting with the irrepressible Raccoon Shaman, and he couldn’t resist teasing his teammate a little bit given that Ezra had extended his visit with her at least twice before finally coming home to Denver. “We was kinda wondering if maybe you had decided to move up to Seattle for awhile.”
Ezra looked over at Vin and smirked. “Mask is quite well, and said to say hello.” He lapsed into uncharacteristic silence and pointedly watched for his bags to come around the conveyer belt.
Vin laughed as Ezra quite firmly ignored his attempt at drawing the fox shaman into revealing more about his vacation.
Ezra waited for his black leather suitcases to come around to their position and grabbed one before it could pass by. Vin snagged the other one and then they made their way out of the terminal to the parking garage and Vin’s ancient Jeep. Vin had parked in the back of the lot so it was a bit of a walk and Ezra’s feet were hurting by the time they got there.
Fifty feet from the car Vin suddenly stopped as the hair on the back of his neck rose. He reached out and snagged Ezra’s sleeve pulling him to his side. “Something’s wrong...”
With a roar the jeep disappeared in a ball of flames and twisted metal. The blast threw both men into the next aisle and they scrambled for cover as scorching hot debris rained down around them.
Ezra grabbed Vin’s shoulder as the other man stumbled back against a car. “Falcon! Are you hit?”
The phys ad shook his head and grimaced. “No, I was just listening too hard and now my ears are ringing. You ok?”
The fox shaman nodded grimly. “I’m fine.” He studied the parking lot with narrowed eyes, searching for anyone who might be laying in wait for them. “Call Lobo.” He thrust his pocket secretary into Vin’s hands. “I’m going astral to make sure there’s no one waiting for us. Watch my meat.” With that he sank down cross-legged and leaned against a wall, then he threw his spirit onto the astral plane.
As his spirit slipped free from his body a wave of pure mana slammed into him sending him crashing back into his body. His body convulsed and he fell over onto his side, his head smacking into the pavement with a thud that made Vin wince.
Vin cursed as the distinctive crack of gunfire rang out, echoing off the ceiling. He jumped to cover Ezra with his own body as bullets slammed into the car behind them. He pulled his armored duster over their bodies and flinched as two rounds impacted his back. The shock was dissipated by the kevlar weave in his jacket, but even still it was going to leave a mark. His lip curled in a silent snarl as he pulled his Predator from his shoulder holster and looked around trying to spot the shooter.
Whoever this fucker was he had come after the wrong men and Vin was determined to make him pay for that mistake. Another shot rang out and he growled as he located the muzzle flash. Sighting carefully he waited and then fired when the shooter popped up for another shot.
He gave a slight smile of satisfaction when he was rewarded with a scream and the dull thud of a body dropping to the ground. He scanned the area for any more assailants, but nothing moved and the feeling of being watched was fading rapidly, so he holstered his weapon and turned back to his fallen team mate.
Keeping one eye out for any more trouble, he opened one of Ezra’s bags and grabbed the first item on top to use to try and stop the bleeding. Head wounds always bled like a stuck pig and this one was no different. He held the shirt against the cut and pressed down until the bleeding slowed enough for him to apply a slap patch. Knowing his team the way he did he always carried one in his pocket, ‘cause sure as the sunrise someone was gonna need it sooner or later. He dug it out once the bleeding stopped and tore the package open with his teeth. Ezra’s hair was matted with blood and gravel and that made it even more difficult to get the patch to stick. He dabbed at the wound and picked as much of the gravel off as possible before finally giving up and pressing it into place as well as he could.
The sound of approaching sirens alerted him to Lonestar’s imminent arrival and since the last thing he wanted was to get caught up in an investigation, he pulled Ezra’s limp form over his shoulder, grabbed his bags, and faded into the shadows.
Vin made his way out of the garage and set Ezra down on an out of the way bench. He sat down next to the shaman and pulled him up to rest against his shoulder. To anyone looking they now looked like a pair waiting for the bus or a cab. He sighed with relief when a Lonestar patrol car passed them without a second glance. He felt around in his coat pocket until he located the pocket secretary Ezra had given him, then he called Chris and waited impatiently for him to pick up.
Chris answered the call in his typical fashion. “Yeah?”
“Lobo, we got trouble. Someone attacked us and blew up my jeep. We need someone to come get us and bring Prophet. Ace is hurt.” Vin ran his hand through dusty hair grimacing at the grimy feel.
“Sending Ferret. Where are you? How bad is Ace? Are you secure now?” The questions came fast and clipped.
“Over by the long term parking. Lot C. Can’t tell how bad Ace is. He smacked his head and we got tossed around in the explosion. I think it’s just a head wound but there could be something else and right now he is out of it. Yeah, we’re secure for now, but Lonestar is here so tell Ferret to hurry.”
“Will do. Hang tight. We’re on the way.”
Vin snapped the pocket secretary closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. He bundled up the now dirty shirt he had used to staunch the flow from Ezra’s wound and put it in an outside pocket of his suitcase, cause God knew Ezra would bitch up a storm if any blood got on the rest of his clothes. Vin smiled slightly at the thought then turned his attention back to their predicament. Ferret better hurry cause he had no way to clean the blood off his hands and it was pretty obvious to anyone who bothered to look closely that they had been in a fight of some sort. Hopefully he had gotten them far enough away from the center of the action that they would be over looked.
A soft groan in the vicinity of his shoulder alerted him to Ace’s somewhat reluctant return to consciousness. He smiled in relief as the fox shaman sat up a little straighter.
“Shit. What hit me?” Ezra asked.
“The pavement.” Vin said snarkily.
Ezra frowned. “I wish that had been all, however, something hit me the second I stepped into the astral.” He lifted a hand to his head and gingerly probed the area around the laceration. “Ow.”
“Leave it alone, Ace. Prophet’ll take care of it as soon as they get here.” Vin frowned at his partner’s attempts to scope out the damage to his head.
“ Do we have any idea when our illustrious companions will see fit to join the soiree?” Ezra looked over at Vin. When his neck complained at the angle he turned to face the physical adept, stifling another groan as his head throbbed in time with the beat of his heart as he moved.
Vin shrugged. “Lobo was snapping off questions faster than I could answer him. You know what that means.”
Ezra grinned. “Indeed. Mother Hen mode has been activated.” He chuckled wryly. “Given that fact, Ferret will be lucky if Lobo allows him to drive.”
Vin laughed. “Good thing he doesn’t have a rigger jack huh?”
“I would say so. Dear Lord, the man is a menace behind the wheel in the best of times. When he is worried...” He shuddered theatrically. “I fear for all who share the road with him.” Ezra exchanged a smile with his partner and then rolled his shoulders trying to loosen the muscles.
“Share?” Vin looked at him incredulously. “Lobo ain’t real well know for sharing.”
Ezra snorted. “Perhaps he was absent that day in kindergarten?”
The two men burst out laughing. Ezra winced as his headache intensified and smacked Vin’s arm. “OW! Don’t make me laugh.”
In turn Vin clutched his ribs and wheezed as the chuckles escaped. “Me? You started it!”
Ezra snickered. “Actually Lobo started it. Dear lord if that man has his way he will conclude that this was somehow our fault and we should not be let out of the house without adult supervision.”
They both abruptly sobered and looked suitably horrified at the thought.
“Shit,” Vin frowned. “He would, wouldn’t he?”
“Knowing our fearless leader and his tendency to hover when one of us is incapacitated with more than a mere paper cut? Hell yes, he would.” Ezra carefully shook his head.
“Damn it. I knew I should’ve got Ferret to come after you. Who the hell did you piss off in Seattle?”
Ezra glared and smacked Vin’s arm again. “Me? What makes you think I’m the target? It was your jeep they blew up.”
“Yeah, but I was here picking you up.” Vin’s brow wrinkled with worry. “Seriously, Ace. Did you piss someone off? Maybe do a little Running while you were up there or take on a side job?”
“No!” Ezra’s tone was firm, emphatic. “I was on vacation. I relaxed. Went dancing, spent time with my friends. That’s it.”
“But what about...”
Ezra cut him off in mid-sentence. “Falcon! Leave it alone. I said no.”
“Fine, but you know Lobo is gonna ask.” Vin said mildly. He frowned as Ezra turned his back studiously ignoring him. It was very uncharacteristic of him and Vin wondered if something had gone wrong between his friend and Mask.
* O *
Fagetti turned a cold stare on Sal as he explained how the ambush on two of the Seventh had failed. Failed because the idiots had failed to take into account the amount of time it would take for the targets to get back to the car. Failed because they had used a timer in the first place rather than a remote trigger or a pressure plate. Failed because the sole survivor of the aborted hit had chosen to stay in safety in his room rather than accompany the shooter to the airport and therefore could not affect either target once the fox shaman had left the astral. Instead the idiot had watched helplessly as his partner had been cut down by the Seventh’s sniper. And then to compound the epic failure he had returned to his body to report rather than trail them back to their safe house. If there was anything Fagetti despised, it was incompetence, and this debacle was a prime example of that. Their patron, Paulo D’Agostino, was not a forgiving man and he wanted the Seventh and particularly their leader, Lobo, dead. It was Fagetti’s job to see to that and with his own life on the line he was not about to go back to the Don and say that it couldn’t be done. No, he would make this hit or die trying. To that end he had put together a team and if they could not do the job, there were others to chose from who could. He paced the room until he was behind the babbling mage and drew his pistol. Pumping two shots into the base of the man’s skull he turned and walked out of the room.
* O *
When Jase heard of Sal’s unfortunate... demise he spared a brief moment to contemplate what he had gotten himself into and the company he and his partner were being forced to keep. Fagetti was single minded to the point of obsession. The man was methodical, cold, calculating and deadly. In short, he was not a man you wanted to cross and yet it was their job to do so.
Jase sighed and made his way down the dim, dirty corridor of his flop house to his apartment. He frowned as the lights dimmed even more to a dirty brown and there was a crackle of a short in the wiring somewhere. Place was a fucking death trap waiting to happen! God, how he hated living in this sleazy run down shit hole. But the person he was right now wouldn’t be able to afford someplace nicer so he had to stoically deal with it. He pressed his thumb against the keypad and eased the door open. Waiting a heartbeat he listened carefully. Except for the wheeze of the elderly air conditioner there was no sound so he stepped inside and shut the door quietly. He made sure the door was secure before making his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothing along the way. After the day he’d had all he wanted was a hot shower, a meal and a cold beer. Unfortunately the meal and the beer would be delayed until he could meet with Revenge and get her take on the day and find out what Fagetti had wanted with her. Together he knew they could watch each other’s back, but separated they were way too vulnerable for this situation. His partner was brave to the point of recklessness sometimes, so he was use to watching over her and being the voice of reason. Being split up this way made him uneasy.
He stepped into the bathtub and leaned against the wall, letting the hot water pound on his neck and back. Slowly his back muscles relaxed and unknotted and he sighed with relief. Thirty minutes later he toweled his blond hair dry as he dug around in the closet for clean clothes. The bar they were meeting at was a dive so he grabbed a worn pair of jeans, a black and red plaid shirt that had seen better days and his dark brown, armored jacket. He dressed quickly and pulled his boots on, stamping his feet to settle into the form fitting leather. He slipped his shoulder holster over his shirt and shrugged on the jacket making sure his weapon was secure and concealed. Then he grabbed his helmet and keys and checked the hallway before he stepped outside and locked the door behind him.
Back to Chapter One
Go To Chapter Three
Author: Aislinn
Rating : R / Gen.
M7 set in the Shadowrun AU
Sci-fi / Action Adventure
Warnings : violence, language
Summary: D'Agostino's bid to gain control of Judge Orrin Travis was ruined by Chris Larabee, aka Lobo, and the men of The Seventh. Now he is determined to make them pay and he has pulled out all the stops.
Shadowrun n.-- Any movement, action, or series of such made in carrying out plans which are illegal or quasilegal. --WorldWide WordWatch, 2050 update
Lonestar Security ~ This mega corporation has taken over the job of local police departments.
H&K227 SMG -- Heckler and Koche 227-S Submachine Gun.
Ares Predator -- the most common heavy pistol found on the streets. The Predator is a heavy semi-auto pistol w/ smartlink.
chummer ~ street slang - friend or buddy.
Matrix - the internet has long been replaced by a 3D matrix with full emersion: to access it programmers (deckers) use a deck that plugs directly into their brain. The world within the matrix is controlled by the decker’s mind - with 3d representations of data and actions: It could look like a cartoon; a film noir... almost anything imaginable and a few, bend the imagery and data to their will.
jacker - Military slang for decker/ rigger. It is more usual to do one or the other, but not both.
null persp - street slang - no sweat. short for null perspiration.
DMZ - Demilitarized Zone - an area where combat is prohibited
Ch. 1
When everything is going according to plan, expect an ambush.-Street proverb
Ezra’s plane landed at precisely 2:40 but it was another 25 minutes of waiting for tired corpers, screaming brats and harried parents to clear the way before he, who was sitting in the second to the last row of the plane, could make his way down the aisle and into the terminal. He throttled down his impatient desire to use a force wave to clear his path, snickering at the image of the brat who had been sitting behind him plastered to the bulkhead. It would serve the little shit right for kicking his seat all the way from SeaTac to Denver. However, given that the boy’s mother was an orc, and might take physical exception to his teaching the child the value of good manners, he decided that perhaps discretion was better than revenge...just this once, no matter how satisfying it might be to teach the child a sharp lesson.
Once the immediate area around his seat was clear, he stood and shrugged into his navy blue suit coat, tugged down the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, and straightened his cobalt blue tie. He smoothed one hand over the tie which had been a gift from Mask. He had feebly protested the expenditure on real silk but she said it brought out the green in his eyes and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He smiled wistfully, missing her already. Then he reached up to the above compartment, gathered his carry on and made his way down the narrow aisle. He nodded politely to the flight attendant as he passed and free at last from the confines of the aircraft he made his way down the tunnel to the waiting area.
From there it was only a short walk over to baggage claim but the walkway was crowded with passengers coming and going so it took him longer than expected. His head ached from the cacophony of voices and intercoms announcing incoming and outgoing flights, and all he could think about was getting home and sitting down with a cup of real coffee and some peace and quiet. He nimbly dodged around a pile of luggage and a family standing in front of a callboard and threaded his way through the crowd before taking the escalator down to the ground floor. It was a little less crowded in this section of the terminal and everyone was going the same way so he made better time. As he rounded the last corner he was surprised to see a familiar duster and the lanky form of his fellow elven teammate waiting for him. Vin was casually leaning up against a pillar, cleaning his nails with a tiny pocketknife that looked harmless, but Ezra knew Vin and that little blade would be sharp enough to wound the wind. Vin straightened up when Ezra come into view and the small knife disappeared into the pocket of his well-worn jeans. He flipped his long golden-brown ponytail back over his shoulder as he moved away from the pillar and grinned a welcome.
Ezra flashed a quick smile as he strode over to join his partner while he waited for his luggage. “Falcon. This is a pleasant surprise. I did not expect to be picked up.”
“Hoi, Ace. Lobo called us in. Thought you might appreciate saving a few ‘yen on a cab.” He glanced over at his friend noting his relaxed stance. “So... how was Mask?” Vin grinned remembering his last meeting with the irrepressible Raccoon Shaman, and he couldn’t resist teasing his teammate a little bit given that Ezra had extended his visit with her at least twice before finally coming home to Denver. “We was kinda wondering if maybe you had decided to move up to Seattle for awhile.”
Ezra looked over at Vin and smirked. “Mask is quite well, and said to say hello.” He lapsed into uncharacteristic silence and pointedly watched for his bags to come around the conveyer belt.
Vin laughed as Ezra quite firmly ignored his attempt at drawing the fox shaman into revealing more about his vacation.
Ezra waited for his black leather suitcases to come around to their position and grabbed one before it could pass by. Vin snagged the other one and then they made their way out of the terminal to the parking garage and Vin’s ancient Jeep. Vin had parked in the back of the lot so it was a bit of a walk and Ezra’s feet were hurting by the time they got there.
Fifty feet from the car Vin suddenly stopped as the hair on the back of his neck rose. He reached out and snagged Ezra’s sleeve pulling him to his side. “Something’s wrong...”
With a roar the jeep disappeared in a ball of flames and twisted metal. The blast threw both men into the next aisle and they scrambled for cover as scorching hot debris rained down around them.
Ezra grabbed Vin’s shoulder as the other man stumbled back against a car. “Falcon! Are you hit?”
The phys ad shook his head and grimaced. “No, I was just listening too hard and now my ears are ringing. You ok?”
The fox shaman nodded grimly. “I’m fine.” He studied the parking lot with narrowed eyes, searching for anyone who might be laying in wait for them. “Call Lobo.” He thrust his pocket secretary into Vin’s hands. “I’m going astral to make sure there’s no one waiting for us. Watch my meat.” With that he sank down cross-legged and leaned against a wall, then he threw his spirit onto the astral plane.
As his spirit slipped free from his body a wave of pure mana slammed into him sending him crashing back into his body. His body convulsed and he fell over onto his side, his head smacking into the pavement with a thud that made Vin wince.
Vin cursed as the distinctive crack of gunfire rang out, echoing off the ceiling. He jumped to cover Ezra with his own body as bullets slammed into the car behind them. He pulled his armored duster over their bodies and flinched as two rounds impacted his back. The shock was dissipated by the kevlar weave in his jacket, but even still it was going to leave a mark. His lip curled in a silent snarl as he pulled his Predator from his shoulder holster and looked around trying to spot the shooter.
Whoever this fucker was he had come after the wrong men and Vin was determined to make him pay for that mistake. Another shot rang out and he growled as he located the muzzle flash. Sighting carefully he waited and then fired when the shooter popped up for another shot.
He gave a slight smile of satisfaction when he was rewarded with a scream and the dull thud of a body dropping to the ground. He scanned the area for any more assailants, but nothing moved and the feeling of being watched was fading rapidly, so he holstered his weapon and turned back to his fallen team mate.
Keeping one eye out for any more trouble, he opened one of Ezra’s bags and grabbed the first item on top to use to try and stop the bleeding. Head wounds always bled like a stuck pig and this one was no different. He held the shirt against the cut and pressed down until the bleeding slowed enough for him to apply a slap patch. Knowing his team the way he did he always carried one in his pocket, ‘cause sure as the sunrise someone was gonna need it sooner or later. He dug it out once the bleeding stopped and tore the package open with his teeth. Ezra’s hair was matted with blood and gravel and that made it even more difficult to get the patch to stick. He dabbed at the wound and picked as much of the gravel off as possible before finally giving up and pressing it into place as well as he could.
The sound of approaching sirens alerted him to Lonestar’s imminent arrival and since the last thing he wanted was to get caught up in an investigation, he pulled Ezra’s limp form over his shoulder, grabbed his bags, and faded into the shadows.
Vin made his way out of the garage and set Ezra down on an out of the way bench. He sat down next to the shaman and pulled him up to rest against his shoulder. To anyone looking they now looked like a pair waiting for the bus or a cab. He sighed with relief when a Lonestar patrol car passed them without a second glance. He felt around in his coat pocket until he located the pocket secretary Ezra had given him, then he called Chris and waited impatiently for him to pick up.
Chris answered the call in his typical fashion. “Yeah?”
“Lobo, we got trouble. Someone attacked us and blew up my jeep. We need someone to come get us and bring Prophet. Ace is hurt.” Vin ran his hand through dusty hair grimacing at the grimy feel.
“Sending Ferret. Where are you? How bad is Ace? Are you secure now?” The questions came fast and clipped.
“Over by the long term parking. Lot C. Can’t tell how bad Ace is. He smacked his head and we got tossed around in the explosion. I think it’s just a head wound but there could be something else and right now he is out of it. Yeah, we’re secure for now, but Lonestar is here so tell Ferret to hurry.”
“Will do. Hang tight. We’re on the way.”
Vin snapped the pocket secretary closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. He bundled up the now dirty shirt he had used to staunch the flow from Ezra’s wound and put it in an outside pocket of his suitcase, cause God knew Ezra would bitch up a storm if any blood got on the rest of his clothes. Vin smiled slightly at the thought then turned his attention back to their predicament. Ferret better hurry cause he had no way to clean the blood off his hands and it was pretty obvious to anyone who bothered to look closely that they had been in a fight of some sort. Hopefully he had gotten them far enough away from the center of the action that they would be over looked.
A soft groan in the vicinity of his shoulder alerted him to Ace’s somewhat reluctant return to consciousness. He smiled in relief as the fox shaman sat up a little straighter.
“Shit. What hit me?” Ezra asked.
“The pavement.” Vin said snarkily.
Ezra frowned. “I wish that had been all, however, something hit me the second I stepped into the astral.” He lifted a hand to his head and gingerly probed the area around the laceration. “Ow.”
“Leave it alone, Ace. Prophet’ll take care of it as soon as they get here.” Vin frowned at his partner’s attempts to scope out the damage to his head.
“ Do we have any idea when our illustrious companions will see fit to join the soiree?” Ezra looked over at Vin. When his neck complained at the angle he turned to face the physical adept, stifling another groan as his head throbbed in time with the beat of his heart as he moved.
Vin shrugged. “Lobo was snapping off questions faster than I could answer him. You know what that means.”
Ezra grinned. “Indeed. Mother Hen mode has been activated.” He chuckled wryly. “Given that fact, Ferret will be lucky if Lobo allows him to drive.”
Vin laughed. “Good thing he doesn’t have a rigger jack huh?”
“I would say so. Dear Lord, the man is a menace behind the wheel in the best of times. When he is worried...” He shuddered theatrically. “I fear for all who share the road with him.” Ezra exchanged a smile with his partner and then rolled his shoulders trying to loosen the muscles.
“Share?” Vin looked at him incredulously. “Lobo ain’t real well know for sharing.”
Ezra snorted. “Perhaps he was absent that day in kindergarten?”
The two men burst out laughing. Ezra winced as his headache intensified and smacked Vin’s arm. “OW! Don’t make me laugh.”
In turn Vin clutched his ribs and wheezed as the chuckles escaped. “Me? You started it!”
Ezra snickered. “Actually Lobo started it. Dear lord if that man has his way he will conclude that this was somehow our fault and we should not be let out of the house without adult supervision.”
They both abruptly sobered and looked suitably horrified at the thought.
“Shit,” Vin frowned. “He would, wouldn’t he?”
“Knowing our fearless leader and his tendency to hover when one of us is incapacitated with more than a mere paper cut? Hell yes, he would.” Ezra carefully shook his head.
“Damn it. I knew I should’ve got Ferret to come after you. Who the hell did you piss off in Seattle?”
Ezra glared and smacked Vin’s arm again. “Me? What makes you think I’m the target? It was your jeep they blew up.”
“Yeah, but I was here picking you up.” Vin’s brow wrinkled with worry. “Seriously, Ace. Did you piss someone off? Maybe do a little Running while you were up there or take on a side job?”
“No!” Ezra’s tone was firm, emphatic. “I was on vacation. I relaxed. Went dancing, spent time with my friends. That’s it.”
“But what about...”
Ezra cut him off in mid-sentence. “Falcon! Leave it alone. I said no.”
“Fine, but you know Lobo is gonna ask.” Vin said mildly. He frowned as Ezra turned his back studiously ignoring him. It was very uncharacteristic of him and Vin wondered if something had gone wrong between his friend and Mask.
* O *
Fagetti turned a cold stare on Sal as he explained how the ambush on two of the Seventh had failed. Failed because the idiots had failed to take into account the amount of time it would take for the targets to get back to the car. Failed because they had used a timer in the first place rather than a remote trigger or a pressure plate. Failed because the sole survivor of the aborted hit had chosen to stay in safety in his room rather than accompany the shooter to the airport and therefore could not affect either target once the fox shaman had left the astral. Instead the idiot had watched helplessly as his partner had been cut down by the Seventh’s sniper. And then to compound the epic failure he had returned to his body to report rather than trail them back to their safe house. If there was anything Fagetti despised, it was incompetence, and this debacle was a prime example of that. Their patron, Paulo D’Agostino, was not a forgiving man and he wanted the Seventh and particularly their leader, Lobo, dead. It was Fagetti’s job to see to that and with his own life on the line he was not about to go back to the Don and say that it couldn’t be done. No, he would make this hit or die trying. To that end he had put together a team and if they could not do the job, there were others to chose from who could. He paced the room until he was behind the babbling mage and drew his pistol. Pumping two shots into the base of the man’s skull he turned and walked out of the room.
* O *
When Jase heard of Sal’s unfortunate... demise he spared a brief moment to contemplate what he had gotten himself into and the company he and his partner were being forced to keep. Fagetti was single minded to the point of obsession. The man was methodical, cold, calculating and deadly. In short, he was not a man you wanted to cross and yet it was their job to do so.
Jase sighed and made his way down the dim, dirty corridor of his flop house to his apartment. He frowned as the lights dimmed even more to a dirty brown and there was a crackle of a short in the wiring somewhere. Place was a fucking death trap waiting to happen! God, how he hated living in this sleazy run down shit hole. But the person he was right now wouldn’t be able to afford someplace nicer so he had to stoically deal with it. He pressed his thumb against the keypad and eased the door open. Waiting a heartbeat he listened carefully. Except for the wheeze of the elderly air conditioner there was no sound so he stepped inside and shut the door quietly. He made sure the door was secure before making his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothing along the way. After the day he’d had all he wanted was a hot shower, a meal and a cold beer. Unfortunately the meal and the beer would be delayed until he could meet with Revenge and get her take on the day and find out what Fagetti had wanted with her. Together he knew they could watch each other’s back, but separated they were way too vulnerable for this situation. His partner was brave to the point of recklessness sometimes, so he was use to watching over her and being the voice of reason. Being split up this way made him uneasy.
He stepped into the bathtub and leaned against the wall, letting the hot water pound on his neck and back. Slowly his back muscles relaxed and unknotted and he sighed with relief. Thirty minutes later he toweled his blond hair dry as he dug around in the closet for clean clothes. The bar they were meeting at was a dive so he grabbed a worn pair of jeans, a black and red plaid shirt that had seen better days and his dark brown, armored jacket. He dressed quickly and pulled his boots on, stamping his feet to settle into the form fitting leather. He slipped his shoulder holster over his shirt and shrugged on the jacket making sure his weapon was secure and concealed. Then he grabbed his helmet and keys and checked the hallway before he stepped outside and locked the door behind him.
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