Shadowrun 01 - Never Deal With A Dragon (47 page)

That was trouble. For Renraku's deputy security chief to drop in on the enemy for a chat was definitely not standard procedure.

"Jenny, can you still catch tonight's courier?"

"Affirmative."

"Have her tell the thing that tomorrow night's joyride is going to be an end run. Things are getting too hot."

Crenshaw followed her guide up the stairs. She was not unduly worried. Physical security on the building was not enough to keep her from getting out if Hart proved difficult or unstable. Not that she expected such a reaction. From what she had heard, this Hart was a total pro, mercenary to the core. Crenshaw was confident she'd be able to reason with the Elf.

The over-oiled hunk of Free California beefcake opened a last door and stepped inside.

"Thanks, Ralphie," she said, brushing past him.

"It's Alfie."

She ignored him, intent on forming a first-hand impression of the internationally renowned Hart. Hart was seated, but it was obvious she was tall, like most of her kind. She also had the smooth Elven skin, oval face, and delicate, foxy features that men, norm and Elf alike, fawned over. If Hart was a bit on the scrawny side, that was a popular preference, too. Crenshaw reminded herself that Hart had to

have brains, too. She'd never have lasted this long in the trade.

Hart made no effort to stand or welcome her visitor. She just sat back in her chair with a look of calm expectancy. Her hands were out of sight behind the desk. Crenshaw pulled up a chrome and plastic chair in front of the desk, ignoring the stuffed armchair already there. Hart still said nothing.

Crenshaw chose her words carefully. "Before you do something we might both regret, let me say I've only come here to talk. I thought that we might be able to see eye-to-eye, one professional woman to another. I also feel obliged to tell you that my associates nearby would not take kindly to any show of violence."

"Are they loaded for Dragon?" Hart asked softly.

"Excuse me?"

"I have a feathered friend nearby who would also, as you say, not take kindly to violence."

"Ah, the serpent who helped you extract Samuel Verner from the arcology. Good. If we've got a matching of muscle, we can get down to business." Hart inclined her head, which Crenshaw took as agreement. "How is Mr. Verner?"

"I wouldn't know."

An admirable poker face
, Crenshaw thought. "Come now, Ms. Hart. I know that you and he are working together."

"Then you know more than I do."

"Are you saying that Samuel Verner is not behind this plot to suborn a member of the Renraku Special Directorate?"

Hart frowned. "I don't like making your job any easier, Crenshaw, but Verner is someone I'd like to see out of the picture. He's been a bit of trouble for me."

Crenshaw found a falling out among the runners interesting, but not unusual. "Whether or not you admit to working with Verner, your own involvement is clear. I also know that you have turned Konrad Hutten, though we have yet to determine what hold you have on him."

"If you have found a weak link in your corporate chain, why not just cut it out?"

Crenshaw found herself enjoying the interplay. A worthy opponent was so rare. If this play was to be the one to set her up for life, such admirable opposition would make it doubly memorable. "I have my own interests, Ms. Hart. As long as I am satisfied there's been no breach of Renraku security, I can afford to wait and deal with each aspect of this situation in turn.

"At this moment, I am interested in Samuel Verner. You say you'd also like him out of your hair. Perhaps this is one time we can be allies rather than adversaries."

Hart's facial muscles tightened slightly, which Crenshaw took as a sign the Elf was considering the possibilities. She knew she was halfway home when Hart asked, "What do you suggest?"

"Since Verner is giving us both such a hard time from the shadows, perhaps we can coax him out into the light. I know he's involved in an attempt on the Special Directorate, but you say he's not part of your operation. Whatever the case, neither of us wants him to touch the project. You, because you want it for yourself; me, because it belongs to my corporation.

"If he were to believe he had a chance to get what he wanted and keep it away from you at the same time, wouldn't he take it?"

"Possibly," Hart admitted quickly. "But what do I get out of it?"

"The obvious. Your competition is eliminated."

"While you shut down my own operation from the inside."

Crenshaw smiled. "Oh, no. At least not right away. Doctor Hutten is still a vital member of the project. You will have other chances."

"While you watch his every move."

"I didn't promise things would be easy."

Hart's operation had definitely become more difficult now that someone at Renraku knew about it. The Elf guessed that Crenshaw would let both her and Verner into the arcology to contact Hutten. Hart would anticipate Crenshaw's but her associate Verner would not. The Elf could aw Verner to the proverbial wolves, escaping in the confusion and trying to take Hutten with her. It was exactly at Crenshaw would do in her shoes. It wasn't a sure bet, but what other choice did Hart have? Her big problem was Crenshaw's knowledge of the operation to subvert Hutten. With security on full alert, Hart's only chance to pull off the extraction would be during the confusion around Verner's capture.

"Crenshaw, your offer stinks. But you don't leave me much choice. Verner has to go down, and quickly. There's still the question of when." Hart flicked a finger at the screen of the terminal on her desk. "Our man was to meet with . . . me tomorrow night, sort of a progress report. Since you're onto him, I suppose you'll cancel it."

Good counterthrust, Crenshaw thought. Hart was trying to rush Crenshaw's own preparations, no doubt hoping Crenshaw would miss something or leave a loose end that would unravel the Renraku trap enough to leave her room to squirm free. Well, Sato was pushing for a resolution, too. Crenshaw would be equally happy to have Verner's hide sooner rather than later. Besides, Hart might just rush herself into a mistake. "Not at all. Just what we need to draw Verner out of the shadows where we can squash him."

"Aren't you afraid our man will run?"

Crenshaw smiled to show her confidence. "The project's made too little progress," she lied. "If you pull him out now, you'll get next to nothing for all your work."

Crenshaw was certain that now Hart was guaranteed to try to pull Hutten out. If Hart believed she could catch Crenshaw off guard, the Elf would be less thorough in her preparations. Crenshaw's trap would be ready to spring, and she'd be more than ready for the Elf. Once they'd smoked Verner, Hart was next. Whether the Elf were captured or killed didn't matter to Crenshaw. Either way, Crenshaw would get the credit for exposing the traitor, eliminating the renegade, and stopping the notorious shadowrunner Hart.

"There is one small hole in your plan to be rid of Verner," Hart said. "He can't show up unless he knows about the meet."

"Null difficulty," said Crenshaw.
I could just let you tell him, dear, but then I have to keep up the show of believing you
. "That can be arranged."

Hart was relieved when the door closed behind Crenshaw. The woman was a manipulator of the first water, but her twisted proddings confirmed Hart's fears. Crenshaw knew too much, and it wasn't likely that the rest of Renraku security knew any less. Time to cut the losses. She'd pull the thing out tonight if she thought it could be done.

Now Verner had showed up again. All her efforts had failed to locate him, and here was Crenshaw offering to lure him into the open for her. The woman seemed obsessed with the fellow, unable to accept Hart's denial that she was not connected with the man. Crenshaw might even think Hart was lying to shield Verner. Well, that suited Hart fine. Let Crenshaw make all the false assumptions she pleased. That might give Hart all the slack she needed.

She knew Crenshaw would expect her to make an attempt to pull the thing out tomorrow night, though Hart wasn't sure whether the woman knew about the thing they'd planted in her precious Special Directorate. Crenshaw's force would be waiting to keep poor misled Doctor Hutten within Renraku's warm embrace while also disposing of some troublesome shadowrunners. Hart had faced and beaten more elaborate, well-laid traps than this one. In fact, Crenshaw's complicity would get her inside the security perimeter. After that, she only had to worry about herself. Renraku security would be waiting for her to grab her inside man, but she had no intention of doing so. All Hart really needed was the data.

That was now her big concern. She hoped the bitch Crenshaw was bluffing when she said the team hadn't been too successful, because Haesslich would be very unhappy if his toy had nothing to give him. The doppelganger's preliminary reports had all been optimistic, hinting at everything the Dragon hoped for. If Crenshaw was telling the truth, that thing might be playing its own game. Wilson had assured them of its complete loyalty, but he'd been wrong before. Hart remembered the terror as she hid in the shower stall with the thing lurking just beyond. It had nearly taken her instead of Hutten because Wilson had miscalculated the thing's reaction time to the drugs. Haesslich had implied that he knew something about the doppelganger that old Doc Wilson didn't, but the worm hadn't shared the secret with Hart. The Dragon only insisted that the thing would never betray
him
. So did that mean it might betray
her
?

Was it worth the risk? Haesslich had been ready to see her killed because she knew about his plan. From all she'd heard, he dealt harshly with subordinates who failed him, no matter who was at fault. Continued service to the old worm seemed to offer diminishing possibilities of coming out of this alive.

Letting Verner walk into the trap could solve a lot of problems. With the proper arrangements, she could make sure he got killed. The doppelganger, too. Not even Haesslich could blame her if Renraku security wasted his toy. Her contract to protect the Dragon's investment in this operation would be completed.

Verner aside, the doppelganger's usefulness was over. Crenshaw knew about the mole in the AI project. If Verner walked into the trap, Renraku would snap him up and keep their secrets. If Hart went in as well, she might still manage to pull the data out. Whether Hart managed to deliver the doppelganger and its data to Haesslich or whether the thing remained within the arcology after tomorrow night, this run was coming to a close.

She sat back, weighing her chances and pondering how she might survive the finale.

The gray light of predawn began to filter in through the black-out curtains over the windows of the burnt-out tenement Ghost had chosen for the strategy conference. Of them all, only Karen Montejac still looked fresh, but Sam knew it was only an illusion. He wondered if the others noticed.

"Any other ideas?" he asked.

"Yes," Sally said, rubbing her eyes. "Sleep."

"Verily, Sir Twist. 'Twould seem the best plan of a bad lot. We have been over this ground enough. Unless something new turns up, our only option is to winkle Hutten out of the arcology."

"And I still say going in and trying to drag him out is too dangerous," Ghost grumbled.

"I know, Ghost," Sam said. "I know. But there's no other way. Hutten is the evidence we need against Haesslich."

Ghost folded his arms over his chest and frowned. "You want the wizworm down, take him down. Physically. Before he gets you. Too much risk to hit the arcology."

"That's not the way I want to do it," Sam said wearily.

"This is a matter of justice, not vengeance. Haesslich isn't a no-data runner. He's chosen to live in the corporate world by taking a job as security director for United Oil. He's even got a SIN. When he took that job, he became a part of society and he's subject to society's laws. I intend to see that he pays the full penalty under that law. Under the law. Not outside it."

Ghost shrugged and turned his face away. The silence in the room grew. Sam looked to Dodger for support, but the Elf wouldn't meet his eyes. He knew better than to try Sally. He was beginning to feel abandoned when Jaq tentatively cleared her throat.

"You are aware that there may be no alternative to killing the Dragon? None of the plans we've considered offers a reasonable chance of success to safely obtain the evidence you want. Sanction may be the only means of stopping Haesslich."

Sam looked at her, imaging the fur-framed face behind the blonde mask of Karen Montejac. Did another face, that of Lofwyr, hide behind her words? Killing was a prerogative of the state. Any individual who took that right into his own hands was committing murder, and murder was a sin. Sam was not ready to add that one to the list his soul had accumulated in recent days.

Lord, why have you made it so difficult?

The others did not believe there was hope of bringing the Dragon to any justice other than their own rough brand. Were they so wrong? He knew what Haesslich was. He feared what he might do if left to pursue his schemes. Was Sam's own soul worth more than the unnumbered souls who would be tainted or destroyed if Haesslich were allowed to live?

He was tired to his bones. Maybe too tired. Theirs was the easier solution. Kill the Dragon and be done. But was it a moral solution?

And if it came to killing the Dragon, how could they go about it? He had seen Tessien destroy Bengay's panzer, and Tessien was smaller, presumably less powerful, than Haesslich. It would take enormous firepower. Anything that would hurt the Dragon could also kill anyone near it. If innocents died, Sam and the others would be as bad as Haesslich. It was Ghost who'd suggested killing the Dragon. He was the warrior; he understood guns and tactics. Maybe Ghost could devise a way to get to the Dragon without involving other people.

When Sam turned to where Ghost had been standing, the spot was empty. The Indian crouched instead by the door, an Ingram in his right hand. The others in the room had shaken off their lethargy and were also tensed for action. Sam reached for his own weapon.