Fallen Angels Page 4

  "If they’re so discreet, then why . . . ?"

  Midnight shrugged. "My guess is our client prefers to not take any chances," she said.

  "So we’re just supposed to erase information?"

  "That’s it."

  "I assume it has to be an inside job?"

  "Yes. The datastores are protected offline—no Matrix access. We need to get inside, get access to the data and delete certain files."

  "Sounds simple enough."

  Midnight smiled faintly. "I wouldn’t quite call it simple, Kellan, but I think it’s something we can do."

  "Sounds to me like something you can do," Kellan said, cocking an eyebrow at Midnight. "Getting inside a secure building and deleting data is right up your alley. What do you need me along for?"

  "Magic," Midnight said simply. "Everybody’s making more use of magic in security these days, and according to my information, this clinic can afford some decent magical safeguards. So I need someone who knows the Art and can work backup to respond to whatever magical security they might have. That’s you. While I have my talents, magic has never been one of them."

  Makes sense, Kellan thought. It was true that those with the means were beginning to rely on a combination of magic and technology to provide security, taking a layered approach and hoping the mundane measures would stymie the Awakened, while the magical security did the same to the mundane experts like

  Midnight who were able to overcome most technological measures.

  "Plus," Midnight continued, "you’ve got solid computer skills—you know how to handle data, and you can take care of yourself if there’s trouble."

  "Wouldn’t you be better off with a real decker?" Kellan asked. Midnight was right—she’d always had solid computer skills, and had invested in a decent cyberdeck and software since coming to Seattle. But Kellan knew her abilities fell far short of those of a professional decker like Jackie Ozone or any of the other codeslingers she knew.

  "I think you’re up to handling this one."

  "And the client?" Kellan asked.

  "Prefers to remain anonymous, of course."

  "But if we’re supposed to delete the client’s info . . ."

  Midnight smiled and raised her eyebrow. "Who said it was the client’s files we’re being hired to eliminate?"

  Kellan snorted softly. "Good point." Blind and double-blind. No real surprise, either, since anonymity and deniability were primary concerns in the shadows. Corporations, governments and many other organizations hired shadowrunners because runners were difficult to trace, and so insulated their employer in the event the runners got caught or decided to make more money by selling out to the competition. Midnight probably didn’t know who their employer was, either; most times, there were multiple layers of deniability between the fixer, who arranged for the talent, the runners and the client, who usually preferred to not know who was hired to do the job.

  "So what’s it pay and how soon do we do it?" Kellan asked. Midnight named a figure, and Kellan’s eyes widened involuntarily. It was more nuyen than she’d ever made on a single run.

  "That’s your cut," the elf said, "assuming you’re interested."

  "How soon?" she asked again, as her way of accepting the job.

  "Time is of the essence on this one."

  "Then we’d better get started," Kellan replied.

  "Excellent," Midnight said with a smile. Suddenly, a waitress bearing a tray appeared, and set a glass of wine on the table in front of Kellan as Midnight lifted her own.

  "Always happy to run with a talented coworker," she toasted. They clinked glasses and drank, and Midnight began filling Kellan in on the broad strokes of the run.

  They had only three days to plan and carry out the assignment if they wanted to get paid, so as soon as they finished their wine, they adjourned from the Alabaster Maiden and went to Kellan’s apartment to begin planning. Even though the basics of every B&E run were the same, every situation was unique, so they had a lot of work to do.

  After hours of reviewing the initial data and planning their tasks for the next two days, both women were ready to crash. Midnight accepted Kellan’s offer to stay at her place for the night rather than going home. That way they could resume work earlier in the morning. Midnight sacked out on the couch, and Kellan lay in bed, her brain repeatedly reviewing what they knew so far about the run, until she finally drifted off to sleep.

  In her dreams, Kellan was running, running through dimly lit corridors at once familiar and strange. A reddish orange light was growing brighter behind her, and she ran faster, feeling heat against her back. She looked behind her again to see if it was gaining on her, and ran smack into a wall, falling to the floor as she rebounded.

  But it wasn’t a wall, it was a massive troll. Lothan glowered down at her, bushy white brows drawn together over dark eyes.

  "What are you running from, Kellan?" he asked her.

  "I don’t know."

  "Just turn around and look."

  "I ... I can’t."

  "Why not?"

  "Lothan, I’m afraid."

  "Fear doesn’t make things go away, Kellan," he responded calmly. "Fear simply makes things."

  "I don’t know what it is. . . ."

  "The only way you will know is to turn and look." The light grew brighter, casting Lothan’s craggy features in sharp relief, shedding a glow the color of blood over his rune-stitched coat and the gleaming stone in his staff. Kellan felt the amulet she wore at her throat growing hot. She slowly began to turn around.

  A shadow flicked across the edge of her vision, silhouetted black against the light, and Kellan felt a stabbing pain in her back. She fell forward, clutching the lapels of Lothan’s coat as he sadly shook his head. Her back felt hot and wet, and her vision swam, beginning to go dark.

  "Too late," the old troll muttered. "Too late."

  "Lothan!"

  Kellan bolted awake, her hand clutching the sheets and blankets in an iron grip. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she blinked in the darkness of the room, lit only by the slivers of moonlight and neon that found a way around the edges of the shades.

  "Kellan, are you all right?" Midnight said softly from the doorway. Kellan started; she hadn’t heard Midnight approach, couldn’t see her in the dark. "Yeah . . . yeah, I’m fine. Just a dream."

  "I heard you call out Lothan’s name." Midnight stepped into the room and glided to the side of the bed as Kellan pulled up her knees and sat up.

  "He was in the dream."

  "I always suspected that having Lothan as a teacher would be a nightmare," Midnight quipped, and Kellan gave a soft, humorless snort.

  "No, not like that," she said. "He was just there. It wasn’t about him."

  "I’m sure Lothan would be disappointed to hear it." Midnight sank gracefully onto the edge of the bed. Kellan could see her more clearly now, clad in a tank top and panties as pale as her skin, eyes and hair dark as her namesake.

  "Do you want to talk about it?" Midnight asked gently, and Kellan shook her head.

  "No, it’s okay. It was just a dream."

  "Okay. I’m sure it’s just pre-run nerves," the elven woman replied. "But if you decide you do want to talk . . ." She let the offer hang in the air.

  "Thanks," Kellan said.

  "No worries." She patted Kellan’s arm reassuringly. "You go back to sleep."

  Kellan slid back under the covers and closed her eyes with a sigh, feeling Midnight stand up from the edge of the bed. She felt better knowing there was someone close by. Midnight was right, it was probably just stress—wondering about how things were going to go on the run. Kellan relaxed, and soon she was asleep again; and this time, no dreams came.

  * * *

  On her way to Lothan’s the next day, Kellan again found herself wishing he had let her keep the summoning circle. She had decided to ask the troll mage if she could use the workshop to prepare and perform another summoning ritual.

  "Another one?" he asked. "Well, I�
��m glad to see you’re taking the need for practice seriously. Do you need—?"

  "I’ve got everything I need," Kellan interjected. "Thanks!" she called, as she headed down into the basement.

  As she began constructing the summoning circle, she realized it was just as well that she’d cleared away the previous one, since this time she wanted to summon a water elemental. From their analysis of the situation, she and Midnight had concluded that a water spirit would be the most useful for the run. She would have liked to summon a more powerful air elemental, too, but buying ingredients for the water-summoning ritual practically cleaned her out of nuyen, and the process took a whole day out of their preparations.

  When Kellan emerged triumphantly from the workshop hours later, Lothan took only a casual interest in her efforts.

  "I assume things went well," he commented, without looking up from the book he was reading when Kellan came into his study to say good-bye, "since nothing has floated away in a flood." He flipped a page. Lothan was the only person Kellan knew who read actual dead-tree books rather than using a data-pad, or just watching a sim, for that matter.

  "It went fine," she said. "No problems."

  "Good."

  "Hey, I might be out of touch for a couple of days."

  "Very well," Lothan glanced at her. "Contact me when you’re back in touch and we’ll plan our next lesson."

  "Great. Later, then."

  Lothan didn’t comment on the time it took to perform the ritual—far longer than if Kellan were simply practicing—or on her plans, whatever they might be. Lothan had been working the shadows for longer than Kellan had been alive, and she knew he subscribed to the idea that business was business, and, if it didn’t affect him, it was none of his. At least, that’s how he expected other people to treat him. Kellan felt sure that Lothan, in contrast, actively kept tabs on things he considered likely to affect him. In fact, she wondered as she rode away from the troll’s house, how did Lothan know she was conjuring a water elemental?

  Chapter 4

  The cyberclinic was called Nightengale’s, and was located on John Street downtown. It was supposedly named for "Nurse Nightengale," the persona of a decker who worked the shadows in the 2030s. When she made the big score, she retired and used the money to open the clinic. That, and the fact that Nightengale’s clients really valued their privacy, told Midnight the clinic’s security would be up to date.

  The corner of John Street and 2nd Avenue was practically in the shadow of the Space Needle, just across the street from Seattle Center. Their synchronized watches read 11:40 p.m. as they approached the target. Kellan could see the monorail gliding along its elevated track above them as she and Midnight headed down Broad Street.

  Just the sight of the monorail made Kellan wince as she recalled her botched run that nearly turned it into an instrument of death. Her eagerness to set up her own jobs and make a big score had led Kellan to go looking for a chemical weapon left over from the days of the Ghost Dance War. Only it ended up in the hands of Zhade, a toxic shaman who wanted to use it to poison the whole metroplex. Stopping Zhade’s scheme had cost Kellan, both personally and professionally. It had been a near disaster, and she was determined that something like that would never happen to her again. It was why she was working so hard on her lessons with Midnight and Lothan, and why she was concentrating on getting work; she knew it would be a while before she felt ready to step out on her own again.

  The weather had turned cloudy and damp during the day. The streets were slick with water, the clouds blocked out all but the city lights, and the steady rain kept people off the streets this late at night. There was enough traffic to blend into, but not enough to get in their way. Stowing their bikes in a spot not far down the street, the two women dismounted and made their way to an alley, where Kellan went to work on the first part of their plan.

  It was easy to recall the water elemental she’d summoned. The rain seemed to shimmer as the spirit appeared before Kellan in its immaterial, astral form. She could command it to take on physical form, but that wasn’t necessary for her current purpose. Reviewing the words of the spell in her mind, Kellan drew on the elemental’s energy for additional power, and began weaving magic around her and Midnight.

  "It’s a low-power spell," she warned.

  "I know, you only mentioned it about six times," Midnight replied. "Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I just need to pass casual inspection."

  Kellan nodded and spoke the final words, setting the spell in place. Suddenly, the slim elf woman in sleek synthleather was replaced by a slightly shorter human woman with brown hair. She was wearing medical scrubs and a lab coat under a long synthleather overcoat. The stranger standing in front of her looked Kellan over and smiled widely.

  "Good job," she said, and even her voice was different from Midnight’s rich tone. It was higher and squeakier. "You look just like her. How do I look?"

  "Just like the trids we got," Kellan said. Just a single day’s surveillance of the clinic had turned up some employees who were close enough to her and Midnight’s size for a disguise spell to work. It was fairly easy work to match the details once the computer created 3-D models from the trideo footage for Kellan to study.

  "Perfect," Midnight said, "let’s go."

  Kellan did her best to look casual as they walked to the clinic. It was a three-story building of mirrored glass and chrome, set on the corner. Half of the windows on the first floor facing the street were transparent and showed the lobby, lit dimly from the doorways beyond it. They avoided the front doors and went around to the side employees-only entrance.

  Midnight took a credstick from the pocket of her coat—one they’d lifted earlier from the Nightengale’s employee whose appearance Midnight now wore. She slotted the stick in the reader beside the door and it beeped as the door unlocked. She pulled it open and stepped inside, holding it for Kellan to follow.

  "Keep your eyes open," Midnight said quietly, and Kellan concentrated for a moment, allowing her awareness to expand to include the astral plane. She could see the auras around herself and Midnight, and see through the spell concealing them. So could any magician or spirit they encountered, she knew, so they needed to be cautious. Kellan glanced back, and could also see the shimmering glow of a ward placed around the building to ensure privacy from magical eavesdroppers and to guard against noncorporeal intruders.

  "It’s clear," she whispered.

  "This way," Midnight said, heading down the hall. They avoided the main lobby, and went instead toward one of the small offices on the first floor.

  "Evenin’, ladies," came a voice from down the hall. Kellan forced herself to take a deep breath before turning around. A man in a uniform bearing the logo of Wolverine Security Services came toward them. Midnight didn’t hesitate before returning his greeting.

  "Hey," she said, "sorry, I forgot a report that’s due in the morning. I just wanted to duck in and file it quick, so I can still get it in on time."

  "You’re supposed to sign in, Carrie," the guard replied.

  "I know," Midnight smiled sweetly with her false face. "But I didn’t want anybody to know I’d forgotten, you know? Please? It’ll only be a minute."

  "Okay, but check in with me before you go, all right?"

  "You bet, thanks."

  The guard sauntered back toward the lobby while the women proceeded to the office. Kellan sighed in relief.

  "Nice job . . she started to say, but Midnight silenced her with a look. They had to stay in character, and they had to get the job done as quickly as possible. Kellan pulled her cyberdeck out of its carrying case and set it on the desk. She plugged it into the desktop terminal and powered it up.

  Midnight stayed by the door and kept watch through a tiny crack while Kellan worked. The deck quickly interfaced with the terminal, and Kellan launched a spoofing program to circumvent the system’s normal password protection. She didn’t use the electrode net that would allow her to experience the deck’s inputs fa
ster, because it would overwhelm her normal senses, and they might need to react quickly, even with Midnight on the lookout. Kellan was especially appreciative of the customized software Jackie Ozone had installed on her deck; most would-be deckers were forced to program all their own tools, or make do with utilities purchased from people they couldn’t entirely trust.

  Tense seconds ticked past as the software of the two machines wrangled, then the terminal’s image changed to a welcome screen.

  "We’re in," Kellan said quietly.

  Kellan’s fingers quietly flew over the terminal’s keyboard. She started up the search function and input the parameters.

  Akimura, Toshiro, she typed into the search window. Another password box appeared, and Kellan sicced the spoof program on it. Alphanumerics flashed through the box faster than the eye could follow. Then the box turned red and flashed.

  "Damn," Kellan muttered, drawing Midnight’s glance from the door. "System’s getting edgy." Kellan quickly launched additional programs. She quietly smothered the system’s concerns in a layer of soothing code, diverting its inquiries, flattering it with rapid-fire responses to checks for authorization. The software did most of the work far faster than she could even think about it. In a few moments, the flashing red box disappeared, replaced by a virtual folder. It opened to reveal a series of files: medical charts, customer information and progress reports.

  Kellan glanced over at Midnight and nodded. She returned the nod and kept watching the door while Kellan ordered the terminal to download the files to her cyberdeck’s memory. The scrolling bar on-screen showed the transfer would take less than a minute. As soon as it was done, Kellan selected delete from the system’s menu.

  Are you sure you want to delete this file? the system inquired. Kellan hit ok and the computer responded with password required.

  "Carrie, are you—?" came a voice from the doorway. Kellan turned toward it just as the security guard who greeted them opened the door. Before either of them had a chance to react, Midnight went into action.

  Grabbing the guard’s arm, Midnight dragged him off-balance into the room and twisted his arm behind his back in a powerful lock, pushing his wrist toward his shoulder blade. The guard involuntarily cried out before Midnight pressed a drug patch against the side of his neck. He continued to struggle for a few moments, but his efforts rapidly got weaker until he slumped in the shadowrunner’s grasp and Midnight lowered his limp form to the floor.