It started as a simple job. (How many times have you heard that in your life!) I should have known; few things in my life are ever simple, but that\u2019s what you get when you\u2019re a smuggler and sometime runner, making your living outsmarting the Powers That Be. I\u2019d been hired by a Johnson to retrieve a certain package from an island that lay in Salish territory, which made sending a ground team a difficult proposition. Border crossings and fake datawork and all, you know\u2014and it\u2019d have to be good datawork, in case the Salish authorities decided to get picky about \u00ab\u00a0interlopers\u00a0\u00bb from the UCAS. Good, of course, meaning expensive. Even at my hefty fee, I was cheaper than the usual running team. The Johnson and her up-front cred checked out, so I took the job. A simple helicopter flight out to the island, a quick in-and-out, return trip and a hand-over\u2014easy money, I thought.<\/p>\n
I drove my favorite car to the place where I\u2019d hidden my \u2018copter away. She was my pride and joy, that Airstar\u2014a good sturdy workhorse of a vehicle, with plenty of nifty mods I\u2019d made myself. Any decent rigger, in my opinion, also ought to be a halfway decent mechanic\u2014especially a rigger like me, who couldn\u2019t always count on a talented and discreet mechanic turning up if a smuggling run went sour.<\/p>\n
I waved hello to the maintenance crew, but didn\u2019t make much small talk. No time to chat when biz was waiting to be done. They gave me an all-systems-go report, which was all I needed to hear. I strode up to the Airstar, checked to make sure I had plenty of ammo for my gun, then climbed into the pilot\u2019s seat.<\/p>\n
I jacked into the helicopter\u2019s rig and the virtual heads\u2014up display blossomed before my eyes. Dizziness hit me for a split second; then my mind adjusted to the blizzard of input from the view screens, which were arrayed before me like the many facets of a cut diamond. The screens showed views from every angle, as well as numerous data displays. At the moment, the largest screen, positioned squarely in the center, displayed the status of the Airstar\u2019s system as it warmed up.<\/p>\n
As I summoned the helicopter to life, I could feel the rumble of the Pratt & Whitney turbojet engines in my chest. The chopper\u2019s blades seemed to rotate in sync with the blood pulsing through my limbs. I shifted into forward visual mode; a small icon blinked in a corner of the main view screen, indicating that the hangar door had opened. I was cleared for takeoff.<\/p>\n
I pulled my legs into a crouch. The rotating blades went from a whine to a roar in response. I leaped upward and the helicopter rose, slowly but surely soaring upward through the rooftop hangar door. Once I\u2019d gotten several dozen meters above the roof of the warehouse, I set the chopper to hovering briefly as I scanned the Seattle sprawl far below. The low background levels of thermal and electromagnetic radiation emanating from the city showed up as a dull red and green glow in my display. I spotted no active radiation sources, which meant no one was watching right now.<\/p>\n
I turned my attention to the navigational screen. It showed my target destination as a red dot, a tiny island of hot brightness in the deep, cool blue of the Pacific Ocean. With another flicker of thought I commanded the screen to display known sensor watch posts. They appeared as small radar-dish icons giving off white waves.<\/p>\n
I swiftly plotted a course that eluded most of the lookout points, then stretched my arms over my head, twisted my body toward Puget Sound, and swept my arms down to my sides. The Airstar turned and sped toward the moonlight that glinted off the Sound.<\/p>\n
This was going to be a cakewalk. Breeze on out to the target, pick up the package and come back home. I\u2019d be back in time for happy hour at the Shack\u2014and this time able to pay my tab, and just maybe buy a round or three for a certain pretty lady I\u2019d had my eye on recently. Yep, this was just the kind of job I liked best\u2026<\/p>\n
Suddenly the chopper\u2019s warning klaxons started screaming. I turned my head and my visual display rotated until the rear view screen occupied my central window. On it I saw two dark flecks against the pink and gray pre-dawn sky. The Airstar\u2019s Identify Friend or Foe transponders identified the craft as two F-B Eagle interceptors from the UCASAF\u2019s Fifth Air Wing based at McChord.<\/p>\n
Before I could make another move, bright spurts of thermographic orange blossomed under the wings of both interceptors and the helicopter\u2019s targeting alarm began to shriek. A warning message flashed on my heads-up display-both interceptors had locked on to the Airstar and fired air-to-air missiles.<\/p>\n
Instinctively, I arched my body toward the coastline, a movement that turned the helicopter. At the same time I started kicking my legs furiously like an Olympic swimmer, sending the chopper screaming toward the land. But my evasive action didn\u2019t fool the missiles\u2019 targeting sensors. The deadly projectiles twisted and dove after me.<\/p>\n
Time for Plan B, then. I focused my mind on the right control, and a giant red \u00ab\u00a0PANIC\u00a0\u00bb button materialized under my left hand. I slapped the button. Explosive charges planted at strategic points along the chopper\u2019s body detonated, destroying the brackets that held the Airstar\u2019s outer shell in place. As the shell fell away, it revealed a second skin coated with radarbane.<\/p>\n
I knew I wasn\u2019t out of trouble yet. I jackknifed my body toward the floor like a diver, and five small parachutes blossomed from the \u2018copter as it plunged into a power dive. Thermite flares swung from two of the chutes, bunched strips of aluminum chaff from two more. The last chute supported a small rocket, hardly large enough to dent a paper airplane, but containing a transponder and flare that mimicked the Airstar\u2019s thermal and electromagnetic signature. The chopper\u2019s radarbane skin would cloak it from the missile\u2019s targeting sensors, and the chaff and flares would temporarily confuse the two missiles, which would then lock on to the decoy rocket.<\/p>\n
I hoped.<\/p>\n
Scant seconds after I\u2019d I punched the panic button I felt my virtual body convulse as the shock waves from two explosions rocked the helicopter. I twisted around, bringing the chopper face-to-face with my two attackers, and the direction\u2014finding axes of the Airstar\u2019s targeting program appeared on the main view screen. I selected and armed two anti-radiation missiles, then cut them loose as soon as I heard the lock-on chirp twice. The ARMs appeared like two streaks against the sky as they homed in on the strong signals from the pursuing flyboys\u2019 jammers. A half-second later the \u2018copter\u2019s targeting alarm fell silent, which told me that the missiles had destroyed the F-Bs\u2019 targeting sensors. (Thank heaven for ARMs. They lock on to a target\u2019s emissions, so the stronger your opponent\u2019s sensors and jammers, the better the chance your ARMs will find their mark. The F-Bs\u2019 ECM suites would have spiked most of my weapons for sure if the flyboys\u2019d had a chance to use them. But the ARMs homed in on the jammer signals and saved my hoop.)<\/p>\n
Both pursuing planes wavered for a few seconds as small explosions erupted in their noses where their targeting sensors had been. Then the flyboys swung around and streaked past me, strafing the Airstar with miniguns. I kept the chopper diving toward the shoreline; I could feel my skin twitching as I pushed the Airstar beyond its limits and its body buckled under the strain.<\/p>\n
Before the flyboys could swing around for a second pass, a green wave of Salish radar passed over my view screen. I\u2019d entered Salish-Shidhe airspace\u2014safe territory for me as far as my two hunters were concerned. (Though not exactly safe per se\u2026 ) The zoomies broke off pursuit, apparently unwilling to risk an international incident for one lone \u2018copter. After a few seconds I breathed a sigh of relief. I\u2019d heard no warnings from Salish air-traffic control, which meant it hadn\u2019t detected me.<\/p>\n
I swung the Airstar lower until it almost skimmed the treetops\u2014best way to avoid future encounters\u2014while a nagging question formed in the back of my mind. Why had the two zoomies tried to shoot me down with no warning? I\u2019d had plenty of run-ins with Salish and UCAS jet jockeys during past smuggling runs, but they\u2019d never opened fire without issuing some kind of warning or threat first. This geek-first-warn-later bulldrek\u2014that was a Lone Star trick. Not the kind of thing I was used to getting from fellow flyers, even if they were the Law and I wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
The glowing orange orb of the sun, just rising over the horizon ahead of me, was beginning to dispel the shadows on the land below. Too bad it could shed no light on my question. I\u2019d eluded my flying foes for now, but I couldn\u2019t run forever. Sooner or later I had to go to ground, and then they\u2019d find me.<\/p>\n
Well, what the hell. Maybe I could still do what I\u2019d been hired to do before the cavalry showed up.<\/p>\n
I landed the Airstar right where the Johnson had told me to, then holstered my Ingram and set out to retrieve the package. I briefly wondered what was in it\u2014something worth sending air jockeys after a lone \u2018copter, maybe? And how had they known who I was?\u2014but swiftly dismissed such speculation as useless. Smugglers who live to spend their earnings learn not to ask unnecessary questions.<\/p>\n
The McNeil Island Penitentiary Compound was looming dead ahead. It had been abandoned for years, but the Johnson had warned me that \u00ab\u00a0unfriendly people\u00a0\u00bb would likely be watching the place. I knew I\u2019d have to make an unorthodox entrance, but I still wasn\u2019t looking forward to it. I reached the entry spot, took a deep breath, braced myself, and lowered myself down into the storm sewer that led to the compound\u2019s central building.<\/p>\n
After wading through stinking raw sewage for what seemed like hours, I finally came to the manhole I was looking for. I shoved it to one side, pulled myself up out of the sewer and squeezed through the narrow aperture, cursing under my breath all the while. Then, squatting on the damp concrete floor under a heavy grating, I looked around as best I could in the dim light.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d fetched up in a maintenance trench under the ground floor of the main building. I could see the outlines of power cables and plumbing pipes; they smelled of rust and rot. Hulking overhead, toward the back of the trench, I spotted several giant shadows-turbines, which meant I must be under the plant\u2019s power room.<\/p>\n
I was reaching up to lift the grating when a faint grinding noise froze me in place. Then I heard the telltale whine of a laboring combustion engine, growing gradually louder as it came my way. Twisting my head over my shoulder, I saw a dark shadow rumble over the grating. I withdrew my fingers as the thing rolled to a stop directly above me.<\/p>\n
It was a patrol drone-an FMC Sentinel. Only slightly larger than a kid\u2019s wagon, it was equipped with tank treads to cover rough terrain, and it packed enough firepower to ruin any shadowrunner\u2019s day. If it detected me, it would certainly ruin mine.<\/p>\n
Soundlessly I unlatched the magazine in my Ingram, then reached into my cargo pocket and withdrew a 30-round clip of armor-piercing, silicone-coated depleted-uranium shells. As quietly as I could, I loaded the clip, then flipped the fire-mode selector switch to AUTO and poked the barrel between the chinks in the grating.<\/p>\n
For the first time that night I was glad to be skulking in a sewer. If I\u2019d run into the Sentinel above ground, I wouldn\u2019t have stood a chance of destroying it before it spotted me. But like most drones designed for security work and perimeter detail, the Sentinel\u2019s underbelly was fitted with light armor. After all, no one expects a security drone to run into anti-tank mines. Sparks flew as I cut loose with the Ingram and punched several rounds through the Sentinel\u2019s steel skin. The bullets ripping into its innards touched off electrical fires inside the drone, making it sputter and pop. A loud explosion knocked me backward as a stray round burst through the fuel tank. I scurried away as burning fuel began raining down into the trench.<\/p>\n
Within minutes the place was crawling with drones. I had to expend the rest of my APDU and one thermite grenade before I found a ventilation duct to hide in. Crawling through the network of ventilation shafts up to the top floor took me about two hours. When I finally squirmed out of the narrow shaft, I landed clumsily in a darkened hallway. To my right was a security door, with an electronic keypad directly above the knob. Assuming I\u2019d kept the map in my head straight through all the twists and turns of the ventilator shafts, the package should be inside.<\/p>\n
I loaded another magazine, emptied the Ingram into the lock and kicked the door open. A quick reload later, I cautiously surveyed the room. It had been some grunt\u2019s office once, indistinguishable from a hundred others. A computer terminal sat on top of a cheap plaswood desk, both of them covered with dust.<\/p>\n
I walked over to the terminal. A chip was loaded in one of its drive slots. I opened the desk\u2019s top drawer\u2014just as I\u2019d hoped, there were a few thumbtacks still rolling around in it. I took out a thumbtack, stuck its pointy end in the slot and wiggled it around until the chip popped out. Package retrieved.<\/p>\n
I\u2019d hardly turned around when alarm klaxons started blaring all around me. The sound of running feet came from the corridor outside; no exit that way. I turned wildly toward the office\u2019s sole window, only to see a curtain of thin steel plates ripple down to cover it. The sharp thud of the door hitting the wall made me spin back around, Ingram raised, to confront my new enemy\u2014four armored security guards whose uniform patches I didn\u2019t recognize. All of their guns were pointed straight at me.<\/p>\n
For about five seconds, nobody moved. Then I heard a familiar voice from the hallway.<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Thank you, gentlemen,\u00a0\u00bb said my Johnson as she sauntered into the room. \u00ab\u00a0You can put the guns away now.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
As the sec-boys lowered their weapons, the Johnson gave me a brilliant smile. \u00ab\u00a0Congratulations, Roy,\u00a0\u00bb she said. \u00ab\u00a0You passed.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
I eased my grip on the Ingram a fraction\u2026 but only a fraction. \u00ab\u00a0This was a test? Just a test?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0I needed to find out if you were worth your reputation,\u00a0\u00bb she answered. \u00ab\u00a0And it seems you are. You\u2019ve been quite resourceful. I can\u2019t afford anything less\u2014not for the job I have in mind.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0And the chip?\u00a0\u00bb Curiosity was fighting with anger now. I decided it couldn\u2019t hurt me to let curiosity win. \u00ab\u00a0Is it something, or just worthless drek?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Oh, it\u2019s something, all right.\u00a0\u00bb The Johnson laughed softly. \u00ab\u00a0Consider it your payment for today\u2019s work, should you decide you\u2019d rather not be part of the real mission.\u00a0\u00bb She gave me a measuring look, then continued. \u00ab\u00a0Would you care to hear about it?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0You\u2019d really let me leave now? Just like that?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0Just like that. I need willing participants, Roy, not just hired guns who might decide to cut and run when things get more dangerous than they bargained for. From what I learned about you before setting up this little excursion, I\u2019d say you might be a willing participant\u2014once you know everything. But for the moment\u2026 \u00a0\u00bb She gave me another sizing-up look. \u00ab\u00a0What are your feelings about the Draco Foundation?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
I nearly dropped the Ingram in surprise. \u00ab\u00a0Can\u2019t say I have any, one way or the other,\u00a0\u00bb I managed to say after a moment. \u00ab\u00a0Why? Are you working for them or against them?\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0For.\u00a0\u00bb Another soft laugh. \u00ab\u00a0Oh, definitely for. Which I\u2019ll prove to your satisfaction, if you want to hear about the job. Over dinner. You choose the restaurant\u2014though I will say, I\u2019m partial to Thai.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
I holstered the Ingram. \u00ab\u00a0I know a place in Tacoma. Roong Petch. Hole in the wall, but it serves the best yellow curry in town.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
\u00ab\u00a0You can still back out after dinner,\u00a0\u00bb she said. \u00ab\u00a0I\u2019ll tell you enough to let you know what you\u2019re likely in for, not so much that you\u2019ll be a danger to us if you refuse. As I said, I need more than just hired guns.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
I nodded toward the door. \u00ab\u00a0Time\u2019s wasting, ma\u2019am\u2014and I\u2019m getting hungry.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
She smiled at that\u2014a warm smile that lit up her blue eyes. I had a nagging feeling that I\u2019d seen her somewhere before\u2014and not on this job, either\u2014but dismissed it as smuggler\u2019s paranoia. As I followed her and the sec-boys out of the room, I wondered just what kind of drek-pile I might be getting myself into. You know the old saying\u2014never deal with a dragon, or with a dragon\u2019s employees\u2026<\/p>\n