Shadowrun 01 - Never Deal With A Dragon (41 page)

"I understand,
Kansayaku
."

"I knew you would, Crenshaw-
san
. We have already invested too much in chasing their dreams. Renraku lives and dies in the world of reality and a dream that cannot become real is worth no more than an American dollar."

He turned his gaze again to the skyline. Crenshaw bowed and headed for the door. As she was crossing the threshold, he spoke again.

"I expect results soon."

"
Hai, Kansayaku
." she bowed to the back of his head as the door slid shut. Ignoring the covert stares of Sato's bodyguards and staff, she strode across the antechamber without a word. Let them wonder what he might have empowered her to do.

In reality, Sato had given her license to continue. She was already trying to find a lever with one or more members of the AI team. At the time she'd set Addison to the task, Crenshaw wasn't sure how she might use such leverage. Her only idea had been to learn something about some member of the team that she could use as blackmail for whatever they were hiding. Now she saw a better opportunity. The more she could control the flow of data on the team's progress, the better she could make herself look to Sato. With the proper timing, she could make it look as though she had motivated any successes while disassociating herself from any failures. As well as she had performed for Sato until now, this was the task that would count. If she pulled it off, she would ingratiate herself with a Renraku man powerful enough to get her what she really wanted.

Ever since she'd matched the date of tampering in the Level 6 records with Samuel Verner's departure from the arcology, she'd known that he was part of some industrial espionage aimed at the AI project. Any day now, the team she had set on his trail would bring her the damning evidence she needed. With Sato's backing, she could wrap her revenge nicely into the package.

Once she'd nailed Verner and his shadow friends, she could concentrate on what she'd sought since the Manila affair. The
Kansayaku
's gratitude and influence would get it for her. He had the power to get her reinstated to the home office and the assurance of a quiet tenure until retirement.

Of course, with a man like Sato, nothing was certain. He would always have more than one angle on a situation and other people working toward his goals. But she had a head start. She'd be the one to succeed once she got her leverage.

Trying to get something on Cliber continued to be an exercise in frustration. Sato's growing impatience meant Crenshaw must concentrate on the more promising lines of investigation, getting Addison to hustle in his checks into Huang's and Hutten's paramours. He hadn't gotten much yet, but he might soon.

Huang was a constant fellow and regular in his habits, but his woman was false. At least her identity was. Addison was still trying to uncover the real identity. Crenshaw was sure the woman would turn out to be an agent of some outside source seeking to co-opt the president. And if not that, the tart's reasons for concealing her identity might still be enough to persuade her to become Crenshaw's agent. Using a mistress to manipulate a man was basic tradecraft.

Hutten's situation had looked less promising at first. He didn't have a steady mistress, but varied his timing and his lovers at random. An active interest in the advantages of Level 6 had seemed out of character for him, thereby raising her suspicions. With the aid of Markowitz, Addison had been able to look deep enough to justify her suspicions. Neo-playboy Konrad Hutten's ladies all had affiliations with a company called Congenial Companions. Addison was still tracing the owners through a maze of blinds and false fronts.

The prospects for leverage were looking even better now that she had authorization for her hunt. Any number of things would be easier, including speed of search. This opportunity was her best chance in years, and she wasn't going to blow it. Not even Verner's obscure designs on the project would stop her.

* * *

Ghost, Dodger, and Sally came in together. Dodger smiled and actually embraced Sam, then thrust him back to inspect him carefully. He tweaked at the beard that had filled out since San Francisco.

" 'Tis most fitting, Sir Twist. You bid fair to be a knight out of a romance."

Ghost stepped up during the Elf's performance, a half-smile on his face. Sam was surprised to see the Indian's expression so friendly. "Welcome back to the shadows, paleface," he said, gripping Sam's right forearm. Though the Indian was smaller, Sam would never match his strength without cybernetic enhancement. He'd never want to be caught on the hostile end of the Samurai's grip.

Sally hung back and watched, clearly evaluating Sam's new appearance. He wondered what she made of it. The last time they'd met, he had been a mere
suit
in her eyes, corporate born and bred. Now he wore an armor vest and serviceable street clothes of his own. His beard, he knew, made him look older.

What struck him about her was that she was unchanged, yet looked vastly different. He realized now that her magic must have so intimidated him that he'd barely noted her beauty before. How could you pay attention to full breasts and inviting curves when you knew a woman could turn a ravening Barghest into a smoking slab of meat with the touch of her hand? She'd awed and frightened him by doing just that.

Now that magic was no longer alien to Sam, he could see Sally more as a woman. Hanae had been pretty, but she hadn't the sensuality that sang from the street mage when she moved.

"Thank you for coming," he said lamely.

"Dodger got me curious. What's the brief?"

Sam gave her a weak, nervous smile. "I had hoped to explain it only once. Isn't the Ork coming?"

"Kham the Muscle-Brained was informed of the meet, Sir Twist. To ensure his arrival, I deemed it wise to let him believe we were to meet with a corporate sponsor."

"He'll get here when he gets here," Sally pronounced, making herself comfortable in the only upholstered chair in the squat. "Hope it's worth my time."

Sam was at a loss. He didn't know how to make small talk with these people and he didn't want to get started on his story. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get through telling it twice. The runners dispersed themselves around the room, apparently more comfortable with the silent waiting than he was.

Kham the Ork showed up a few minutes later. He greeted his fellow runners boisterously before noticing Sam, when the Ork's mood suddenly shifted and grew cool. Kham grunted at Sam's extended hand and took up a chair in the corner of the room. He glowered at Sam, then threw Sally a look that Sam interpreted as confusion mixed with suspicion. Still looking at Sally, the Ork asked, "So what's de story?"

Haltingly at first, Sam told the tale of his growing disenchantment with Renraku, his departure from the arcology, and all that had happened since. The telling took longer than he'd expected, with some new duplicity to outline or postulate at every twist and turn. He finished with his discovery that Drake had managed to place an impostor into the arcology under cover of Sam's and Hanae's extraction. Those were the facts. He also told them his feelings, hoping it would help persuade them his cause was right. As for his brushes with magic and death, those he spoke of more from the need to talk than because of their relevance.

Some things he did not tell. One was the nature of that impostor. He hardly believed in the doppelganger himself, and he had
seen
the evidence. How could he tell them that a magical being had been created in a scientific laboratory and been sent to infiltrate Renraku, taking the place of a loyal employee? Somehow that seemed even more insane than his nightmare conversation with Dog. If he had told them about the doppelganger, they might have dismissed him as crazy from his ordeal in the badlands. He couldn't afford their ridicule or scorn; he wanted and needed their help.

When Sam finally finished his tale, the Ork was the first to speak. "Let me get dis straight. You want us to help you burn dis Drake guy just because he's running against Renraku and a few pieces of meat got in de way and got cooked?" Kham grimaced, then flashed a look at the faces of his fellow runners. "Suitboy, you're brain-fried."

"Kham, I believe that Drake is also responsible for the other deaths that have followed me since I left Renraku. There was no price on my head. I took nothing from them and I didn't hurt them by leaving. I worked for Renraku for years, and they were my home and family. When I think of what this impostor could do to them, it worries me. I can't stand by and let Drake's plot hurt the company."

"Den tell dem about it and let dem jump on the mole."

"They'd never believe me even if they would listen long enough to hear me out. Besides, I can't hand them any proof or name the imposter."

"They still own you, then," Ghost said.

"They don't," Sam shot back. "This is personal."

"Revenge I understand."

"It's more than that," Sam insisted. "Stopping this plot lets me repay any debt I still owe Renraku. I'll be able to call it even."

"What about them? Will they feel as you do?"

Sam didn't know, but it didn't matter. He had to do what he thought was right. "They'll have to make their own assessment."

"You stand like a man." Ghost folded his arms across his chest. "I will help you."

"An abrupt decision, Sir Razorguy, considering that you have so little data about your opponent," Dodger observed.

When Ghost said nothing, the Elf shrugged and turned to Sam. "To clarify, then. Your goal now is only to stop Drake's plot?"

"No. I want Drake to pay for his crimes."

"And what about the dangerous Ms. Hart?"

"Yeah, and dat serpent. Dey been doing a pretty fair job of wasting folks. Ain't dey bad guys, too?"

Sam looked the shadowrunners over. He knew that Tessien had killed and that Hart was deeply involved in this plot that included cold-blooded murder. That didn't excuse them, but Sam knew there was only so much he could hope to accomplish. The runners seemed far too impressed by Hart and Tessien's reputations. "They're just Drake's tools. If they come to justice, so much the better, but it's Drake I want."

Dodger shifted, his muscles relaxing. Sam took it as a sign that he had spoken well. When Sally nodded, he was sure that he had won them.

"If you can take out Drake before those two find out you aren't dead, they may not be any trouble at all. Hart's a pro. If her cred source vaporizes, she'll be elsewhere and the serpent will go with her. She knows there's no percentage in noble causes or revenge. Leastways as long as she doesn't have a bodyguard clause in her contract."

"I hope you're right, Sally."

"Afraid of dem, Suitboy?"

"Yes."

"Very wise," Sally commented. "I don't know this Tessien, but any Dragon's trouble and one that Hart partners with ain't going to be streetmeat. Hart's a top runner. I'd rather not cross her."

"Then if Drake's the only target, you'll help?"

Sally snorted and shook her head negatively. "Listen good, my fledgling magic man. I'll help you find your path. I'll get you settled in our little half-world." She smiled invitingly. "I'll even help you forget this mess, if you think you can handle the stress."

Sam frowned. "That's not the kind of help I want."

"It's what you need," she said, at once serious and teasing.

"I want you to help me get Drake." Sam insisted.

"Verner, you're on the streets now. A body has to be practical. You want to run the shadows with us, I'll give you a chance. You've shown some possibilities. Interesting possibilities. But if you run with me, you've got to keep the most important principle in mind. Nothing for nothing. Your proposal offers no profit."

"Sally's right, Suitboy. Ain't no nuyen in dis. You wasting our time." The Ork stood abruptly and his chair clattered as it toppled. He started for the door. "Got more profitable ways ta spend
my
time."

"Kham," Sam called. The Ork ignored him, opened the door, and walked out into the darkness of the hall.

"He's free to make his own choices," Sally said softly, her words almost drowned out by the sound of Kham's steps descending the rickety stair. "Make your own choices, Verner. I can show you a wiz time tonight."

Sam felt Dodger stiffen at his side and glanced over to see the Elf watching Ghost. The Indian's face was calm and still. Whatever was going on, he'd talk to Dodger about it later. Sam wanted Sally's help, because the magic that he didn't know how to handle was second nature to her. Her skills might be just the edge he needed to get Drake. If he went with her tonight, perhaps he could convince her. He tried to keep his voice casual. "Sounds interesting."

Sally beamed. "Wiz. Corner of Harrison and Melrose at nine. Be armed and ready to party." She bounced from her chair in a swirl of fringed leather and danced out the door Kham had left open. "Scan you later, magic man."

Sam was left with Dodger and Ghost. He already knew the Elf was committed, and Ghost had said earlier that he was in. Sam wasn't sure that the three of them would be enough.

"Ghost, do you think I can persuade her to help?"

"She has her own mind, paleface."

The room felt cold, chilled by an undertone in Ghost's voice. The Indian seemed disturbed, but something in his face told Sam not to ask questions. He decided to stick to business, hoping that the chill would thaw in the heat of discussing the problems they faced. It had worked with Hanae. "Dodger, have you found out anything more about Drake?"

"Verily, he is a true mystery man. I have uncovered enough to know that he is no more a real person than any Mr. Johnson who offers one a corporate handout. His true name and nature remain shrouded, but I have learned that he uses the first name of Jarlath."

"What kind of name is that?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dodger admitted.

Ghost walked to the boarded-up window. Intrusive beams from the flashing neon snaked like warpaint over his features. "And you are sure that Hart and the serpent work for him?"

"They said so."

"I heard they were involved in stopping a run against United Oil's dockyard."