There is a lesbian....

Last season the female SWAT member came out; this season she's part of a threeple, but while she loves the woman she can't jell with the man....

Training For The Road - 3243

The next few days went by in a blur. Kathryn put in the requisite time at the range, while ensuring that her men were tested in power suits. PFC Rodriguez and Corporal Goodwin received the best scores and so received the honor of piloting the suits in combat. They would receive additional training in the weapon systems and how to modify their hand-to-hand skills to take advantage of the enhanced strength the suits offered. The remainder of her squad would be spending time on the range; with Lucia on an extended foraging mission it would be nice to have something to take out her frustrations on.

She also had to check out the new vehicle. The IFV had seen better days, and the tracks were decidedly worn, but the vehicle itself was solid; it should last the three or four days with no problem. The tactics of her squad would need to change as the vehicle would be the prime of all attacks, but that was easy enough to allow for in her playbook and the weapons would be, well, helpful.

She also looked at the three sites on a map. The total distance was a 105 miles, but with some basic foraging it should not be a major issue. They would need to carry plenty of fuel along with them, but that shouldn't be a major issue. The issue would be the ammunition, and they would need to have complete load outs for the power suits and vehicles. The requisition request for this was going to be murder! So she started filling out all of the forms. When that was completed she compared maps.

Since the Time Out, when Doctor Verte had decided she needed some time to think and had thus wreaked all sorts of havoc in order to get herself some alone time, there had been a severe uptick in metaphysical phenomena. That is, while there had been magic and even some well-known spellcasters, such the Crimson Band and Doctor Clothos, the supernatural denizens had kept to the shadows. Since the Time Out, however, magic was returning with a vengeance. The appearance of wizkids, teenagers with a direct connection to magic who used it to satisfy their own needs, were a direct sign of that.

The ley lines were the other.

All over the maps had appeared vast rivers of magical power, ranging from a few dozen meters to a few miles across flowing from one point to another. They were visible during the night and day, as the air itself glowed a gentle blue, but it was more obvious at night; because of that some of the soldiers referred to them as the “blue areas”. They had been able to map out some of the local ley lines, and she now compared them to maps of where they were planning to go. She smiled as she noted several intersection areas; she would be able to test out the ring.

At least there would be something interesting on the trip. When the mutates weren't trying to kill them. She hoped Lucia would return before she had to return to the field.

* * * * *

Blue. Yellow. Green. Purple. Whites. Red. There were only missing black and pink, but they were more legend than anything else. For such a grouping to be happening there must be something serious happening, and that never meant anything good. Everyone was in standard camos, but the berets told the tale of who was what. Her squad was the blue, or combat personnel. The engineering specialists wore mustard, but their clothes wore the stains of their profession. Special Forces wore their distinctive forest green, but their lousy shaves marked them in a group of clean-shaven soldiers. There were a couple command types in their purple berets, usually ambitious types trying to prove something. There were even some scientists in their white berets and lab coats.

But the red berets piqued her curiosity. The parapscychologists never left their section but were involved in the conversations about her load out; there was no way that was any sort of good news. She walked down into the room and into the weirdness.

Sergeant Tumlinson was the sole welcome green in the bunch. The scientists started to approach her as a group, but a scowl from Sergeant Tumlinson backed all but one down. The single scientist focused on her and handed her a manila folder. “Lieutenant Douglas, those are the specifications of the new equipment we have designed for your mission. It is mostly detection gear, designed to run without interference. There are some special new weapons, however.”

One of the engineers, a thin private, stepped up. “Yeh, the power suits' laser have been amped up a little but your shouldn't notice any added consumption issues. There are also some enhancements to the fields.”

The scientist scowled at the engineer. “We need the ley lines mapped a little more thoroughly, and we think we figured it out how to get some additional details. As noted, do not worry about it once you're in the field. It is also set to send back the information in bursts, so don't worry if you hear it activating. All of that information is in the briefing we just handed you.”

She handed the file to the sergeant. “Have fun.” She looked back the scientist. “Thanks. Hopefully we'll get the information you need.”

The two disappeared into the crowd. A parascyhologist stepped up to her. She almost recoiled from the smell of sage but stood her ground. The parapsychologist gave her a couple of jade shuriken. “We've noticed some interesting details about the wizkids and their interaction with the mutates. We believe that the two are linked somehow and that the mutates draw some sort of power from them. If you can hit them with one of these shuriken it may help to take them down.”

She inspected the shuriken. “Interesting. Any idea if they will penetrate the skin of the tougher mutates?”

He shrugged. “It would depend on the thickness of the skin, but as long as they are not bullet-proof, sure.”

“This trip just became a lot more interesting.” She pocketed the shuriken as the parapsychologist walked away from her. She had begun to suspect that there was a link, especially considering how they clumped together. She was now curious how important that link was. Too bad it was so hard to keep them as prisoners. Hopefully this information would help; they desperately needed to find new ways of dealing with them.

Sergeant Tumlinson nudged her. “Ma'am? These are some interesting specs. They may even help with the invisible ones.”

“Interesting. Can you link the detectors to your dogs?”

“I'll see about that.”

“Good.”

She let Sergeant Tumlinson retreat to study the specifications on his own. She decided to engage the officers in conversation. Just how bad could it go anyway?

* * * * *

She hit the punching bag full force. Of course the conversation with the officers went bad. They ended up being command-wannabes with no appreciation of tactics and their own thoughts on how to put down the mutates. She hit the bag again. The morons suggested gas attacks followed by grenade launchers, preferably white phosphorus. The bag began to serious swing.

She kicked the bag. Gas attacks had proven to just be a waste of ammunition, as well as creating problems. She side-kicked the bag. Not only were mutates in battle covered with a telekinetic shield but those capable of manipulating the gas itself used it as a weapon. She jab at the bag. And while she respected the power of Willie Pete too many mutates shrugged it off. She hit the bag with a combo. Too mutates were immune to heat damage and a lot of them had rugged skins capable of shedding the stuff like a duck did water.

She shifted her position and started swinging. Obviously the martinets had not read the battle reports. She hit the bag with an uppercut; it moved satisfyingly. If they had they would known that. She hit the bag with a three punch combination. She feared for any unit placed under the command.

She backed up half a pace. The shuriken should be interesting to see in battle. She hit the bag with a combination kick. She had noticed that there was some link between the wizkids and mutates. She kicked the bag straight in the center. They had all noticed it. Her next kick visibly moved the bag. And it definitely it was interesting how it always seemed to be one wizkid in a mix of mutates. She kicked it one more time. She would definitely be putting the shuriken to the test.

She grabbed her towel and wiped down. The next combat would definitely be interesting. If Sergeant Tumlinson could link the detectors to his cybernetic dogs that would definitely help against the invisible mutates and possibly even help against the snipers. She had also requested more flashbangs than normal just to see how the mutates would fare against their superior senses.

This trip would definitely be interesting.

The Edging Ring - Day 1 - 1721

And they day had started off so great, what with the sun shining and sky almost an actual blue. Lt. Kathryn Douglas barely dodged a red claw fro the mutate in front of her. She pressed her trigger, sending a rain of machine gun death into its armored body, killing it almost instantly. She took a moment to choose her next target, and settled on the mutate attacking Sergeant Phil Tomlinson, who had set his robot dogs after it even has he fired into its body.

A globe of flame came streaking towards her. She dropped to the street and it flew past her, exploding into a shower of sparks as it impacted on a deserted building. “Rodriguez! WIZKID!” She pointed at the gangly youth as Rodriguez swiveled the turret that direction. His bullets ricocheted harmlessly of the kid's blue shield, but the shield soon shattered and the kid fell to the ground, never to rise again.

A scream behind her made her turn just in time to see a purple claw cut Helmut in two. She tossed two grenades in that direction; two satisfying explosions later and a large chunk of the mutate was gone. It fell onto the street below. A quick search of the scene resulted in her finding the half-eaten bodies of Clemins and Sanches and the monster eating them; a barrage of fire from the remaining men utterly obliterated the remaining monster.

The encounter over the men scavenged what they could of the dead men's equipment before setting the corpses on fire. Lt. Kathryn Douglas fumed. The smell of the decaying corpses was beginning to penetrate her gas mask; she had hoped to have returned well before the filters had begun to wear out. That was before her squad had faced down the team of mutates led by their very own wizkid. Taking stock, they had barely managed to survive the encounter, but not without almost depleting their ammunition. They were forced to take the long way home, and that would add a good two hours to the trip.

The squad manged to avoid a couple of roving mutates, but they needed to get home before they ran into another team. If they could rush the last few blocks they would be in the clear, but the worst things tended to happen just before they were in the clear. The team slowed when they could see the warning pylons; the ten-foot poles lit the area around them but did little to reveal any mutates hiding in the alleys surrounding the entryway. No matter how well cleared they were the mutates would always return with just enough of their number to re-establish their haunts. It was finally decided to just let them be.

The area, now called The Gauntlet, was the final run. It usually a matter of bluffing their way through: They were usually only attacked by a single mutate and those were usually of the weaker sort. This meant that just the appearance of superior force was enough to keep them in their holes. However, a team of mutates working together would be emboldened enough to attack even a platoon coming back from the field. Without ammunition the odds of her team seeing dinner, well, they were depending on just dealing with one of the stupider demons.

Her fist went up and the squad froze where they were. She motioned for visors to be dropped and for bounding to start. She quickly looked over the remnants of her squad: They had lost three good men on the patrol. Relying on her experience with The Gauntlet she decided to go down the right side; the setting sun would throw the most light down those alleys and hopefully the wide-band optics in the visor would pick up any potential targets. The squad started moving quickly and efficiently; a soldier would move forward to the entrance of an alley, check it out, and signal things were clear. Another soldier would then move to the next alley and repeat the process.

Slowly but surely they made their way past the pylons; the mutates had decided to stay where they were. Lt. Douglas breathed a sigh of release when her squad was inside the door and in the decontamination room. Once allowed to exit the room she headed to the mess, her service tablet firmly in her cargo pocket. While she ate dinner she filled out the necessary paperwork, from the targets they had engaged to notes on places to send the scavenging teams. She filled out the necessary supply forms, with the usual requests for material she knew would never appear.

Every so often she would glance over at her squad, vicariously enjoying a joke being made about the targets they had eliminated, a far too euphemistic way of referring to the mutates they had vanquished. Soon she had only to deal with the paperwork that would be the last paperwork filed for Privates Bartholemew Clemins and Jorge Sanches and Sergeant Helmut Jorgensen. A small mercy was that she did not have to write the letters to their families; with the world outside ravaged there was no way to get those letter to families, assuming they had even survived.

She put her tablet away and tipped her drink to her squad; they toasted silently to the departed. She soon left for her person quarters where she would soon be enjoying a hot shower, one of the few creature comforts remaining. She would spend the rest of the nigh reading before finally falling asleep. Fortunately she could sleep in tomorrow, a minor mercy due all those who went on patrol.

* * * * *

She was the first of her squad to breakfast, and she would most likely be the only one. The rest of her men would likely sleep until noon and then join the others for light duty. There was another three days before patrol duty cycled back to her squad and she wanted to enjoy it as much as she could, which meant grabbing some time on the firing line and avoiding the patrol sims. She sighed as she realized why she hated being an officer: Her men were saved from having to deal with the debriefings and other meetings and at least they had hero status as regular patrollers. The leader of that patrol, however, was an outsider in office politics and that could make life difficult for an officer.

She eventually finished her breakfast and headed to the office of the general. The underground bunker had been refurbished from a subway depot; the basic renovations had only taken a week to do when they had moved in as groups of soldiers quickly gathered at the abandoned subway depot. General Hendricks had been on leave when the first attacks came and had happened on the depot while retreating; with the nearest base virtually destroyed he had decided the depot was easily defensible and large enough to make a headquarters out of. General Hendricks quickly got a ham operator to take up shop there and send out a repeating signal in order to rally the troops.

Within weeks they had been able to find generators and enough equipment on foraging trips back to the original base to almost have a semblance of order. Backed by goods from various stores they had been able to fortify the depot and create a formidable base. Fortunately, at least from the survivors' perspective, the attack had been to drive people away from the cities; this meant that the utilities and such were still working, although they were degrading quickly. Fort Subway had a limited duration and all of the jerry-rigged repairs in the world couldn't stop that.

She finally approached the General's office. Lieutenant Eric Tamden was serving as the secretary and was serving as well as he could consider the circumstances. “Good morning, Eric.”

Tamden looked up from his screen. “Hey, Kat. You're the second one in this morning. Sleeping okay?”

“About as well as I can considering.”

“I hear that. Condolences about your men. Some good news, however: We found another vehicle for your squad as well as two power suits. We'll have them ready for you when you go out.”

“Thanks. I'm sure we can put them to good use.”

“I know you can! Oh, and be prepared for some weirdness in the meeting. We found another treasure box, and there were some actual artifacts.”

“That is interesting.”

The door to the office opened. Captain Harris Eckleberg exited. He walked past the two lieutenants at full pace. Eric's eyes followed him as he left; Kathryn watched the watching. Eric's voice dropped to whisper: “Someone got some bad news. Go on in.”

She smiled as she walked in. The general seemed more ancient than usual, but a frost melted as he saw Kathryn. A mandatory salute given and returned, and a chair was pointed out. She sat, her hat on her lap. “Good morning, Lieutenant. Condolences on your losses, but always a pleasure to see one of our best patrol leaders.”

“Thank you, sir. And thanks for the additional material.”

“You're going to need it. We think we've determined the final three spots for consideration for the evacuation and we need you to check them out.”

“Sounds good. We'll do the reconnaissance as quickly as possible, sir.”

“I know you will.” He opened his top drawer and pulled out a small ring. He tossed it at her. “Catch.”

She grabbed at it, and caught it. She inspected it; it appeared to be a plain silver band, no setting, with some script on the inside.

“The two words are 'advocabit' and 'dimitte', or or 'summon' and 'dismiss'. The guys in red think it summons some sort of positive assistance. We need someone to test it.”

And there it was. She pondered for a moment, but it was mostly for the sake of making a point. “Fine. Any idea how it works?”

“Wear it and say the first word. Say the second if things get out of control. Just make sure that you're in one of the blue areas.”

She looked up him as she pocketed the ring. “Willdo, sir.”

Hinami Neon, Day 3 - 5429

Dish had started his tour of the facilities by calling up a map of the place. “Soka, weapons declawed. Main mission complete; time for some fun. Execute: more filelist pipe grep gamato.*.secret.*. Let’s see what comes up.” Within a few seconds his screen is filled with file names. “I know scientists were anal but this is bad.” He simply selected them all, grabbed them, and transferred the files into his virtual pocket. “Now let’s see what else is here.” He flew through a door and into the pagoda proper.

*     *     *     *     *

Steel smiled as he waved to Cass. Cass readied her pistol as Steel made sure that the HMMWV’s machine gun was ready to go. He nodded to Cass and he took off, accelerating as he targeted a plate glass door. He charged through it, smashing through it and then falling to the ground. He rolled and let the momentum carry him behind a counter. He peeked out just enough to scan the area: His eye enhancement had a picture of Gamato, an elderly scientist, just below the main screen. The eye outlined the guards in red with their weapons glowing a dull red. He almost scanned past Gamato but his eye caught it and outlined him in green.

Steel looked back at Cass and signaled her to just to cover him. He also sent the information he had scanned to the machine gun and triggered it by mental signal. The gun roared to life, not stopping until the guards had fallen to the ground. Steel ran to Gamato and reached him in a heartbeat.

“Time to go, Professor. Ready?”

“Well, yes. I suppose so. Do you think that I could say good-bye to the fellas first?” Gamato looked up at Steel expectantly.

Steel sighed in exasperation. He decided to just grab the professor rather than doing half of the other actions he thought about doing at that particular moment. He started running towards the broken window.

Several guards moved into position between Steel and raised their pistols. They were dropped by several shots from Cass before Steel even had time to react. Steel heard the clattering of fast moving metal on the lobby tile. Cass signaled for Steel to stop as two thin, almost-feline humanoids charged him. He pulled Gamato closer to him as he executed a sweep kick. The two humanoids were sent flying and hit the wall hard. They would not be rising from that anytime soon. Steel was quickly back on the run.

Another cyborg tried to a intercept Steel before he escaped with his prize: A woman with a metallic sheen was sprinting fast at Steel. She leaped and pulled out a katana from a sheath on her back. Cass blurred towards Steel and used him as a vault. This sent her straight into the woman and Cassie hit her hard enough to send her into a wall. Cass landed and caught up with Steel just as he arrived back outside the building.

However, one more obstacle presented itself: A sumo with a large studded tetsubo, a large vicious club, was blocking the way. Steel tossed Gamato behind him and Cass caught him. Steel stared at the sumo long enough to give him a red outline and then activated the machine guns yet again. The gunfire merely stunned the sumo, but did force him forward. Steel haymakered the sumo into unconsciousness.

Cass had secured Gamato in his own seat and was sliding into the passenger’s seat when Steel joined her. “Now that was different.”

Cass was just starting to grin when they pulled out.

*     *     *     *     *

Dish saw a package on a pedestal. “Now that is interesting.” Suspecting an obvious trap, he decided to just deal with the entire situation later. He rezzed a water sprayer, with the coiled tube fading into oblivion behind him. He aimed at the package and pedestal and it derezzed into a stream of particles which were then vacuumed up by the sprayer.

At that point Dish heard a “ding”. He quickly executed an escape program and the world around him faded into white. The white soon resolved itself into the real world. He then waved at Ramone and the two of them prepared for pick up.

*     *     *     *     *

As the HMMWV raced away from the Sakura Building a net dropped over the HMMWV. This sent the vehicle into a spin that ended when it crashed into a telephone pole. A crossbow wielding ninja walked up the vehicle, cautiously looking for signs of life.

When he finally opened up the doors to check he started with the passenger door. The driver’s side was empty but Cass was ready for him, pistol drawn and safety off. He was able to close the thick door before Cass got off a shot; the shot rang out as the bullet buried itself into the door. One punch from Steel sent him flying.

Steel slid into the driver’s seat. “So much for the great Seppuku Sempai.”

Cass slid her gun back into its holster. “That was famous kill squad of Sakura Corporation?”

“Yep. I think we got lucky, however.”

“Buzzkill. Let’s hope that luck holds.”

They drove off into the night. They left behind the ninja on the ground behind them.

*     *     *     *     *

Dish was just packing up when they arrived. Ramone was all ready to go. The HMMWV stopped right next to them and they got in the vehicle. Ramone looked up at the machine gun. “Did you guys take off in a hurry or what?”

Steel looked back at him. “We were dealing with ninja and stuff. We were somewhat distracted.”

“Sure.” Ramone began taking apart the machine gun and stowing it. “See, I told you they would get us.”

Dish checked his notebook for wear. “Yeah, but this was an easy mission. Even with the complications.”

Cass leaned back in her seat. “Does he still have his ‘problem’?”

Steel left the vehicle to look at the vending machine. He started pushing it back into place.

Cass checked the sites of her personal weapon. “We should just go to to Nevada and lock him in a stable at the Mustang Ranch. Anyone for a road trip?”

Ramone, Cass and Gamato all raised their hands. Dish weakly raised his hand. Ramone finished stowing the machine gun. “I debated that. Decided it would be too risky. For the woman!” Ramone lifted himself onto the strap in the sunroof.

Everyone was laughing but Dish. “Hey!”

Steel got back in and twisted the key. The HMMWV started up and left the scene of the crime.  But at least the vending machine was back in place and mostly operational.

*     *     *     *     *

As Pallas approached the Sakura Building, she saw a small fleet of vehicles with red and blue lights in front of the building. A man in a dark suit was discussing matters with a detective, but the detective closed his tablet; apparently charges would not be pressed and the corporation would be handling it in-house. The damage was mostly superficial, and any bodies had already been removed or sent to the hospital. The Corporation was scarily efficient in that regard.

All that mattered to her was that the person she was looking for was not there. She quickly dialed into the local net and, using the passwords she had been given, she grabbed the video she could and watched long enough to figure out a direction. She accelerated away. As she did so she received a text update of other strange problems that night that may have been relevant. A vending machine had been vandalized; the wires in back had been spliced.

“That kid will be so easy to track!”

*     *     *     *     *

A young technician watched a red blip on the screen. While the screen was covered with a number of blips, most of them were green and thus easily ignorable; there were all where they needed to be. The one blip, however, was well off the reservation. Katsuna would give the blip another few minutes to get where it was supposed to be before he did the next step.

He ran his fingers through his dyed-green hair in nervous anticipation; few blips had stayed away from their required locations this long. Each blip represented a tracking device in the head of a valuable scientist; they were allowed to step away from their labs for a few minutes for breaks and such, but not for this long. He was beginning to get worried that the scientist in question may have been extracted, and if so he would be terminated. Katsuna had never had to terminate someone before, although he had done well in simulations.

The doors opened up behind him. He looked carefully to see who it was, and his eyes went wide: The Company President never visited a level this low! And yet here was! Katsuna stood at attention and bowed, unsure exactly how to watch the blip yet still be respectful to his Company President. The president motioned for Katsuna to return to his station.

Sakura Musashi was the epitome of the elderly gentleman: bald, wrinkled, and in a pressed suit that would cost a few years of Katsuna’s salary. “Status of the extraction?”

Gulping, Katsuna quickly regained his composure. “The extraction is successful. So far.” Katsuna’s nervousness spiked: He had been avoiding calling it an extraction because that meant acknowledging what was going down in front of him. He had already confirmed the situation with Security, so the scientist’s life was in his fingertips.

Sakura brought him back to focus. “Has he escaped yet?”

“No, sir. He’s just approaching The Barrens now.” The Barrens were the poor district just north of the Sakura Building where most of the younger employees lived. It allowed them to save up for marriage while still enjoying the bachelor lifestyle. It had also been decided upon as the northern limit for escaping scientists; this allowed them to enjoy a party every so often.

Sakura ran some quick calculations in his head: He already knew that scientist wasn’t escaping to a party as he had access to the same security information the technician did, and he hoped that the extracting party was unaware of the tracking device; as the device was implanted alongside other necessary cybernetics, there was no need to tell the scientists and so even they didn’t know. He had a made a decision. “Then do it. Before the device is effectively blocked.”

Katsuna turned completely to his computer, almost overshooting it in his nervousness. He brought up the digital handbook with the appropriate page. “No problem, sir.” He grabbed the recording microphone and pressed the button on its stand. He started reading directly from his screen: “As per sub-paragraph G-129.88.21-alpha of the appropriate contract, I, technician’s apprentice Tachihama Katsuna, under direct authority of President Sakura Musashi, am now utilizing the M1934 fail-safe device implanted upon signature of said contract. Contract is now terminated.” He pressed a black button next to the recording device.

Katsuna called up Gamato’s personnel file and added the time and date of the termination. “Fail-safe successfully utilized. He’ll go boom in approximately sixty seconds. No more problem. Sir!”

“Nice job, Technician Katsuna.” The Company President left the office.

Katsuna relaxed and then danced in his chair. “One of the big boys noticed me! YES!” He would be running on an adrenalin rush for the next hour.

Hinami Neon, Day 2 - 3504

Toshiro was happy. The neck he was inspecting showed no signs of discoloration or and looked like it would heal with scarring. Before him were four shirtless boys, each bending their necks forward so that he could inspect the back of their necks. A few days ago he had implanted a chip into the boys and now it looked like they were ready for field-testing. The chip was simple enough to implant; once placed near the nerve cluster the implant virtually installed itself, and allowed someone to insert apps into the target individual. Those apps could be anything from a set of skills to sets of instructions, and promised to net Sakura Corporation yet another fortune in a wide variety of different industries such as self-help, education, and even the military.

In over forty years of working for Sakura Corporation he had never created anything as innovative as the neuro-chip now in the necks of the four boys. Combining a number of different technologies into one piece of hypo-allergenic plastic, this was the opus of his scientific career, and would surely make his name immortal in the annals of Sakura Corporation. This was the last thing he would ever create for them, and looked forward to enjoying many evenings with his wife and many grandchildren. He just needed to ensure that the chips actually worked.

Looking at his handiwork, he was almost impressed at the lack of signs that there had been an operation. Going with cellular adhesives had been a risk considering the possibility of discoloration, but would virtually eliminate the chances of scarring; the incisions had completely healed with no signs of either. He finished his inspections and motioned for the boys to leave. They dressed and quickly left the room, leaving the scientist alone in the now all-too-sterile laboratory.

Toshiro now had to let his superior know about his success so far. He had grown nervous when he realized he was working directly for not just the vice president, but the son of the chairman. The chairman’s son was known for playing fast and loose with the rules, and he rewarded those he favored with tremendous favors; promotions and huge financial rewards were just the beginning of that favor. But…he was also known for punishing those that crossed him, and death was rarely awarded without severe punishment first. Those that displeased were known to disappear and were only found in the obituary column of the corporation newsletter if they were found at all.

This had explained why every request for funding had been granted and why some of his fellow researchers acted nervous around him. If Mayashi had not been killed in a lab accident then perhaps Taneka would never have inspected the lab and given Toshiro his private number. While Toshiro was initially very proud to have received the number, he quickly began to grow apprehensive when Taneka would call him for daily updates instead of the weekly updates Mayashi had asked for, especially when there was the slightest air of impatience. Fortunately he had been close to a breakthrough or he was sure he would have broken down by now.

He picked up his phone and dialed. Surprisingly, it didn’t go straight to voice-mail as he hoped it would. He was talking to Vice President Taneka himself.  

“You have news, Toshiro?” Taneka was more brusque than Toshiro was used to, but at least this would make things easier. One way or another.

“Yes, sir. The implants have taken. I have sent the subjects on their appointed rounds, as per request.”

“Very good, Toshiro. You have done Sakura a great favor.”

“Thank you, sir.” Toshiro put down his clipboard. His throat was suddenly very dry; he gulped hoping some saliva would wet his throat. “May I now continue with my retirement plans?”

“Your family will reap the rewards we would have showered on you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Taneka hung up. Toshiro had been questioning if he would be able to live his retirement in peace, or if he would be able to live period. Taneka’s response made his future very clear very quickly. This was something that the vice president had wanted done not for the company’s gain but for his own business. He was unsure of what to do, as the research itself was automatically backed up on company servers and the fruits of his research had just left his laboratory. No doubt the gear to program the chips now in the boy’s necks had been developed by another group just as the operating system on the chips had been designed by someone other than himself. It was just a matter of time before an assassin’s bullet found him.

He found himself drawn to a number of syringes filled with various chemicals. The chloral hydrate has the obvious choice: Used in knock-out drops, an overdose of the chemical would put him out and he wouldn’t even know it.  He raised an eyebrow as he debated whether it would be better to take his own life, however cowardly the means, or to wait for the assassin’s bullet he was sure was coming….

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s HMMWV stopped long enough to drop off Ramone and Dish. Both guys looked around to make sure that there were no cameras, and then Dish started getting his notebook ready to go as Ramone went up to a Sakura Pop machine and set his briefcase down. Ramone started rocking the machine and, once he got enough momentum, started walking the machine far enough away from the wall so that Dish had enough room to work. When it was out a couple of yards, he bent over, breathing hard. He recovered quickly.

“Just think, Dish; you could make enough from this op to take care of your problem.”

Dish had ripped a cord from the vending machine and was splicing its connecting cord into his notebook. While the vending machine used wireless to transmit credit information, Dish could create a more secure connection if he used the machine’s router itself rather than just hitching on the signal. As such he had to hack a little more literally than normal.

“Which problem?”

Ramone checked his knives. He wanted to make sure Dish was protected while he hacked but wanted to do it as casually as possible. “Your girl problem. Or is it boys?” Ramone smirked as Dish blushed a little.

“Girls. And I have the ‘problem’ well in hand.” He picked up the pace a little. It was a simple enough splice and he had brought all of the right tools.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what we’re trying to stop.” Ramone opened up the briefcase. The machine gun inside came with a swivel mount, all controlled by a small remote, which Ramone pocketed. He started setting up the gun.

“You mentioned something about ‘setting up an appropriate interface’…” Dish had completed the splice and was getting into a comfortable position with his back against the wall.

“Yeah, but let’s complete this first, okay?” Ramone had set up the machine gun and was testing the remote.

“If we survive this, sure.” Dish unreeled a cord from the notebook and plugged into the back of his neck. He assumed a meditative posed and fell unconscious.

“Here’s hoping for beers at Tyrell’s later, kid. Non-alcoholic for you, of course.” Ramone looked over the street. He quickly found a doorway that would hide him while allowing a good view of Dish. He walked over to the doorway.

*     *     *     *     *

Dish always relished rezzing into the cyberscape. While it was of the highest resolution, it was still off just enough to separate it from the real world. His chosen form was in honor of his aunt’s restaurant: It resembled an old-school dishwasher in white jeans and t-shirt with an apron and cap. The buildings of San Angeles had been replaced with logos everywhere, and avatars and data were flying everywhere.

He took a moment a to get his bearings, and then got down to work.

“LAN arrival OK. Loc ref-point Sakura Corp HQ.”

He was surrounded in a blue tube and found himself flying straight towards a monstrous pagoda. He quickly arrived and was able to pass through the outer shell with no problem; the local security programs, interpreted as ninja in the cyberscape, ignored him. He allowed the blue tube to take him further in, and then stopped for a moment.

“Nice place. Crypto-rithims go.”

A fork rezzed in his hand and he threw it at a door in the pagoda. The fork faded in silver glow as the door turned a shade of yellow. He went through the door.

“Basic boring security. Map-out go flag-passkey.”

A line of red dots appeared before him, leading him through a number of corridors. A number of ninja looked at him, but let him go. His security pass was working. He finally ran into a door guarded by an a pair of impressive samurai. Both samurai animated and charged. His pass was apparently good enough for the ninja but not specific defenses. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh please. IC-melter load.”

Computer code flashed through Dish’s metallic eyes as the program loaded. The samurai were almost on top of him.

“Reflecs cloud go.”

Dish was surrounded by a cloud of spoons as the samurai stabbed at him. Dish left the cloud and flew through the door as the samurai attempted to kill the cloud of spoons. The cloud of spoons soon wrapped themselves around the samurai, making the samurai disappear, and derezzed.

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s HMMWV skidded to a stop right in front of the Sakura Building. He parked it and he dismounted along with Cass.

Steel checked his watch. “I wish he would hurry up.”

Cass unsnapped her gun. “Could be worse. He’s not that bad.”

Steel stretched. “True.”

*     *     *     *     *

A line of red dots led Dish into a room. On a pedestal lay a daimyo’s mask; the mask was the visual representation of a coder’s backdoor, created in case he had to quickly adjust the code of the pagoda. Dish grabbed the mask and put it on. A faded image of samurai covered his avatar, just transparent enough so that his avatar was visible. His disguise would fool any automated security in the pagoda, but human troubleshooters could still tell it was him. Hopefully it was enough for this run.

“Passkey accepted. Map-out directory: sec.dot.lobby.main. I am so tired of this iconography.”

His line of red dots quickly led him to him a digital rice paddy complete with peasants. This was obviously the office grunts. It had to be a royal pain to work here. He quickly found a camera icon and flew up to it. He looked into the lens, and smiled at what he saw. He rezzed a knife and stuck into the camera; the camera turned blue.

“Note to self: SakuraSec sucks. Lobby weapon systems are slaved to the camera, making the weapons as easy to override as the cameras. Steel will be happy.”

With the cameras now slaved to his avatar, he decided to take an additional measure. Code flashed in his eyes and he rezzed a fork. He stuck the fork into the camera and it was covered with a silver glow. One of his eyes was covered with a view of the lobby.

*     *     *     *     *

Steel’s watch beeped. Steel looked at it: “These security systems are a :)! Now touring.” Steel smiled.

Hinami Neon, Day 1 - 1574

The jeep rocketed past the signal. Fortunately the streets were virtually empty; most people were just finishing dinner and starting to relax. Only couples and pet owners, a couple of a different sort, occupied the sidewalks.  Just as it skidded to a stop next to a tall skyscraper, an athletic woman in dark leathers jumped out, a small packaged carried tight to her breast. She ran in and out of the building, returning without the package.

A moment later the first floor of the building was engulfed in flame as the sound of thundered joined the cacophony of the urban evening. The jeep sped off as couples scattered and animals barked in the wake of the vehicle. A lot of calls went out to emergency services.

Pallas hit a button on her steering wheel. “Call Hazard.” She paused until she heard someone answer. “Last mission completed.” Something was said. “Sure, I can do that in my sleep. Tell the client I accept.” Pallas smiled; she loved when she could jump from one assignment to the next, even though the next assignment would not start for until the next morning, giving her enough time to find a new vehicle before her current one was tracked down. She seemed to go through a lot of vehicles in her line of work.  

As she realized that she still had time to tell her daughter a quick story before bedtime here face lost her smile as she became the epitome of a focused mom and floored it. The jeep disappeared into the crowded night.

*     *     *     *     *

Well above the city floor, Taneka stared out his window lost in thought. A large man in a silk suit, the moonlight glowed off him as he studied the tableau beneath him as thoughts swam just below his consciousness. He was staring at the red and white ants below him as the sped and stopped as dictated by the red and green signals, all of them trapped on the black ribbon between the gray buildings. The traffic patterns gave him a meditative focus as he processed his notes for the following day; while he enjoyed the overall pattern he had forgotten it was made of individuals a long time ago.

His phone on the desk rang and he walked over to it, each step careful, measured. He grabbed the phone as he slid past the desk, answering with a single smooth action.  

“Hello? She has accepted? Excellent.”

He clicked the phone off and set it down. He turned and walked away from the window, heading for the door. His mind went through a quick checklist as he moved to the door, marking off an item with each step. Satisfied that he was forgetting nothing and that he would be able to forget the pressures of his position as one of the highest ranking vice presidents of Taneka Enterprises as soon as he left, he keyed in his password to the tablet on his desk. He would table the success of the first stage of his strategy until tomorrow.

“The day is almost over,” he said to himself as he left the office. It was time to enjoy the remainder of his evening and he had a number of distractions planned. He would be in the garage in a few minutes, his personal Porsche waiting for him, and on an easy path to a secret party where he was sure to break a few laws.

*     *     *     *     *

A blimp rose into the night, thousands of LEDs combining to create the face of a young woman dressed in red and white robes and made up as a female kabuki character. There were a few modern twists so as to make sure she was cute rather than scary. She assayed the ground below her, acting as if Kabuki were trying to see what was below her. She waved to those below her, and some waved back, not knowing or not caring that she could not actually see them wave back. Suddenly, loudspeakers blared to life as she started to speak.

“Good evening, Upper San Angeles. It’s Thursday, November 21, 2109. It’s Scorpio’s last day as he cedes the month to Sagittarius the Archer, a man with piercing arrows or something…harder. For those not quite ready to go to bed….” She paused long enough for a high-school girl’s giggle. “Sorry, to sleep, check out the Sakura Party Ring. Those who know, know where it is.”

The message would repeat a couple of more times before the blimp floated off between the skyscrapers. On the ground a couple was passionately embracing beneath a street light, apparently lost into whatever universe lovers disappear into when they kiss. All but the studious would notice that just past the lovers was an alley, of which the lovers were in an excellent position to guard if they were so predisposed. Next to a garbage can, embers glowing just below the edge, a muscular black man in tight camos stood over a Japanese boy in a bomber jacket and jeans. While the man stood ready for anything, the boy was meditating. Between the two lay a notebook computer, a program running across the screen. A wire led from back of the teenager’s head to the notebook and then another wire ran to the simple yet elegant watch worn by the black man on his flesh arm.

The notebook beeped. A metallic yet feminine voice made a short announcement: “Download complete.”

Dish snapped out of his meditation. “Talk about primatech. Soka, your onboard comp sucks. Just make fewer notes or make it SOTA, soka?”

Captain Thomas Steel yanked the wire from his watch and it reeled into the notebook. “I’ll try.” He hated that the kid refused to speak regular English; the kid’s personal mission was to see if he could crash Steel’s translation software. He sometimes succeeded, but Steel had gotten better at hiding when it happened.

Dish smiled at the older man’s grumpiness. He pulled the wire out from the back of his head and let it go; it reeled into the notebook. As a pair of headlights flashed the alley he grabbed the notebook and stood up.

A limousine pulled up. Two Mr. Johnsons dismounted and walked over to the pair. The exact identities of the two never mattered, only that they delivered the information required for the mission to succeed.   The two company men sniffed disdainfully at the smell of the alley. Steel quickly noted the lumps in their jackets and made a note on how to react if either man reached for his gun. He also mentally readied the remote keyed to a special surprise if things got too hot. He may curse the experimental cyberwear that made up a third of his frame, but it did give him a few tactical advantages.

Steel decided to take the initiative. “Do we meet at the dump next? That would fit the established pattern.” So far in the last month they had met in three other alleys and a dump; the Johnsons liked meeting in out of way places with no cameras. At least they liked to mix it up a bit.

The first Johnson ignored the insult. “Is your team assembled and ready?”

“Do you have the floor plans?”

The second Johnson pulled out a briefcase, opened it, and handed a small compact disc to Steel handed the disc to Dish almost reflexively, who just as reflexively slid it into his notebook. He pulled a wire from the notebook and thrust it into the back of his neck. The screen of the notebook started spewing maps. Dish gave Steel a thumbs up. Steel turned back to the Johnsons.

This time the Johnson took initiative. “The remainder of your fee will be deposited upon completion of the extraction.”

“Do you want him dead or alive?”

“We would prefer not having to worry about neurological repair.”

The two Johnsons walked back to the limousine and mounted up. The alley was yet again flashed by lights as they drove off. The couple at the streetlight disengaged. The blonde in tight leather holstered a pistol she had in the small of the guy’s back under his jacket while the Puerto Rican kid in denim sheathed a pair of knives he had hidden by keeping them in his sleeves. Their shift from intimate lovers to fellow employees spoke to how often they had performed the ruse. The pair looked expectantly as they waited for new instructions. Dish’s screen went dead as Dish let the cord reel back into the notebook. “The data is GTG.”

Steel looked at him. “Everything okay?”

“Even the secret passages are red-painted. Go time?”

“You have an easy-access jackpoint?”

Dish closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them quickly. “Yeah. A vendamech just two decameters from target. Its cred-checksys provides an easy back way in.”

“Good. Sounds like go-time to me.”

The group hustled over to their own vehicle, a HMMWV that was parked just out of sight. Ramone quickly broke the remote-controlled machine gun down so they could get going as Cass helped. Steel grabbed the driver’s seat as Dish climbed in behind him. The gun was stowed in back under a tarp and Ramone and Cass grabbed the other two seats. They were off and running to their next destination in less than a minute.