Hanae shrank back at the sight, gripping Sam as though he could protect her should the beast attack. Even the hardened runners seemed reluctant to exit the van near the serpent. Shouldering past them all, Roe walked up to the beast and ruffled the feathered mane at the back of its head.

To Sam's amazement, he felt a hint of the dracoform's pleasure from Roe's caress. In some uncanny fashion, it was broadcasting its emotional state. He wondered if the others were feeling it too, then decided they must be. Everyone in the group had visibly relaxed. Even Hanae looked less tense. It was as though the Dragon had reassured them that it meant no harm.

"Hey, Roe," Chin Lee called out. "This mean we gonna be here for a while?"

"Till dark anyway. Make yourself at home," she answered without looking at them. "Sack if you want to."

Sloan and Black Dog jostled past Sam and Hanae. Digging into a pile of sleeping pads heaped among some crates near the van, each appropriated a prize and dragged it to a separate corner. The rivalry that had flared occasionally during the ride continued as the two men watched each other warily through sleepy eyes. Kurt, who had spent the night in a variety of driving seats, never left the vehicle. He simply put his head back against the rest and started snoring.

"Well, I'm hungry," Chin Lee announced to no one in particular. Ever since emerging from the Commuter's cockpit with Kurt, the Ork had been stuffing things into his mouth-krill wafers, soycakes, and a seemingly endless supply of Krak-L-Snaps. Now he rummaged around in a crate next to the one that had yielded the sleeping pads until he found a zip-heat package meal. Pulling the tab, he tossed it on a nearby oil drum to heat and rummaged some more. By the time his meal was hot, he had restocked the satchel at his side and tossed a half-dozen more meal packs on the drum. He opened his packet, breaking out the eating utensil on his way back to the vehicle. Flopping down on the van's tail, he stirred the contents of the packet and began shoveling the gooey mess into his mouth.

"You two help yerselfs," he mumbled around a mouthful.

Hanae looked a little green, but Sam thanked the Ork. He led Hanae around to the side of the van, careful to stay between her and the dracoform. The runners were ignoring them, though Sam felt sure someone would get plenty interested if they attempted to leave.

After settling Hanae in a relatively clean spot between the boxes, he fetched a pad and blanket from those the other runners had rejected. He made another trip to gather a pair of the least awful-looking food packs and a six-pack of Fizzygoo; the jugged water looked even less drinkable than the Fizzygoo. As expected, Hanae wouldn't even look at the stuff, but she would be hungry later. He lay down next to her and held her until she fell into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

Sam was tired, too, but sleep was fugitive, vanishing from his grasp as had his former dreams of a happy corporate life. Carefully disengaging from Hanae, he sat up. He wasn't really hungry, but had nothing better to do, so he set a meal pack to heating. As he leaned back to wait, Roe appeared at the outer edge of their crate-walled sanctuary.

"Better get some sleep, chummer."

"Too much to think about."

"Oh, ho. Tough work, thinking."

"Sometimes," he agreed. Roe seemed relaxed, though as exhausted as the rest of them. Perhaps her tiredness would lower her guard enough to let slip some clue to what he had gotten Hanae into. "I've been thinking about that fellow in the van."

Roe gave a tired chuckle. "Kurt sleeps like that all the time. He'll be fine when it's time to roll."

Was she deliberately misunderstanding him? "Not him. The Renraku executive whose name no one seems to know."

"Names can be dangerous," she warned. "I thought you understood that."

"I do understand. I'm not asking because you've made it clear you don't want me to know." Sam didn't have to pretend concern. "I'm just worried about him. He's been unconscious all night."

"And it looks like he'll stay that way a while longer." She reached out and snagged one of the ration packs. With a deft flick of the wrist, she opened it and snapped the eating tool free of the cover. "Don't get the wrong idea, Sam. We're not sedating him or subjecting him to mind-control drugs or anything like that. It's a side effect.

"Simulating an illness was a good way to get him out of the arcology, and he agreed. He came up with the idea for his own ailment, and even got the drug that would fake it. From his med file, we knew that the injection might induce a temporary catatonia, so we brought along what we needed to make sure he'd come out all right. He was very anxious to leave and thought it was a reasonable risk.

"Paid off, too. His vital signs are stable, so don't you worry. Trust us," she cajoled, offering the tray from which she'd been eating. "He trusts us."

Sam took the offered food, but said nothing. They traded the packet back and forth until it was all gone, then he opened a Fizzygoo for her. She accepted it with a look of distaste, then lifted it in a toast and downed half the container.

"What happened to the albino?"

She eyed him for a moment, but he couldn't read her expression. She shrugged. "Got sloppy and got caught while we were getting your compatriot out."

"His loss just a part of the marginal costs of business, like Greta?"

Roe carefully placed the Fizzygoo packet on top of one of the crates before speaking. "Look, Sam. We all know the risks when we take on a job like this. Renraku is in the big leagues. They play rough. We runners live on the edge, betting our lives that our skills, knowledge, and luck are enough to keep our butts from being boiled. Sometimes we lose."

"Why didn't you do something to recover her? Why did you leave her behind?"

Roe closed her eyes and hung her head. "Didn't you see? She was head-shot. Medicine's real good these days and magic can do quite a bit, too, if the mage knows the right spells. But she didn't have a hope in hell."

Sam shook his head in disbelief at her callousness. "Don't you feel any loyalty to her? To the others?"

"As much as they feel for me."

"In other words, none."

She looked away, then said softly, "They're getting paid."

"Just like you."

"No credit, no fun in this world," she said with a laugh.

Sam didn't hear much joy in that laugh. "Then you're only in this for money."

"Why not? Pays better than doing it for free."

Sam's disappointment surprised him. He should have expected no more from her.

The feathered serpent unfurled its wings, arching its neck upward in a sudden burst of motion. The ebony talons of one hind paw scraped gouges in the cement floor as it sent waves of resentment tinged with something else. Sam thought the emotion felt a little like fear. Roe was up in a flash, searching the darkened end of the building toward which the serpent gazed.

At the far end of the bay, one of the great doors rumbled upward. A black limousine purred into the building, its polished paintwork, chrome, and dark windows reflecting the dinginess of the surroundings as it rolled to a stop. Protective guards snapped automatically into place over the tires.

The rear door opened, and after a moment, a man emerged. Lean and dark, he moved with elegant grace. His clothes, too, were impeccably tailored, showing neither wrinkle nor spot. Scanning the chamber once, he strode purposefully toward the van.

Roe met him halfway, and the two talked quietly for a few minutes. Sam couldn't hear much, but he did make out Greta's name. The man seemed pleased. He spoke briefly again, and Roe responded, once gesturing toward Sam and Hanae. Within moments, she was escorting the visitor in their direction. Sam stood as they approached, stepping away from Hanae so not to be disturb her.

"Sam, this is your benefactor, Mr. Drake."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Sam offered his hand.

Drake ignored it as he looked Sam up and down. "Ms. Roe has told me of the modification to the plan. I trust you understand your position."

Sam was confused by the reference to a modification. "Excuse me?"

"Ms. Roe's arrangement with you was done without my knowledge. I would never have approved."

Sam didn't know whether to be startled or apologetic.

"But I am not heartless, Mr. Verner. And I know this kind of business requires a certain flexibility. You and your lady friend may take advantage of our guest's transportation arrangements so long as you do not endanger his reaching his destination. I will impose no additional costs or obligations on you beyond requiring that you swear not to interfere with Ms. Roe's execution of her contract with me. Is this satisfactory?"

What could Sam say? Roe doing her job for Drake only helped him and Hanae. "Yes."

"Very well then. Both you and Ms. Roe must understand that, from this point on, you are her responsibility."

Sam nodded.

Drake smiled his satisfaction. "Since we understand each other, Mr. Verner, I wish you and your lady friend a pleasant journey."

With that, Drake returned to his car and was gone again in less than a minute. Roe had drifted back to the feathered serpent. Reluctant to go near the beast, Sam refrained from confronting her about why she had pretended that Drake was part of the offer to extract him from Renraku. Had she wanted to increase her status in his eyes? Or was it just a petty lie, indicating that he couldn't trust anything she said? He didn't understand what would motivate such behavior, but the increasing suspicion that he was surrounded by duplicity made Sam uncomfortable and very, very nervous.

Shadowrunners were dangerous. Living outside the law, they had little respect for it. If he got in their way, it was doubtful they would search for a legal solution. The other runners he had met, Tsung's people, had seemed to have a code. Rough and selfish perhaps, but still a standard of behavior. Roe's crew seemed less . . . finicky.

And Drake, their master, was as hard as any of them. But that wasn't really surprising. He was likely a shark in the corporate world. Drake's easy expectation that everyone around him would jump at his call told Sam that his toughness was no facade. The dark man showed greater confidence in his own power than even Kansayaku Sato. The man obviously had control over his runners, which was saying a lot. Sam may not have seen it all, but he'd seen enough to know that nerve and grit were almost sacred among those who dwelt in the shadows of the corporate world.

Drake had warned him not to interfere with Roe. Did he think that Sam and Hanae's presence might jeopardize his carefully laid plans? If so, why was he willing to settle for the pittance that would be his share of the finder's fee for Sam? Wouldn't he want an increased return from an increased risk? Drake would expect something in return for his generosity. Sam didn't like not knowing what Drake's game was, but he hadn't dared question the man's offer.

Other things about the deal bothered him even more. No matter what story Roe gave him, Sam thought it likely that Mr. Drake's "guest," the unconscious man in the truck, was leaving Renraku involuntarily, the victim of a kidnapping. For their own reasons, the runners did not want Sam or Hanae to know that. The two of them would probably be safe as long as they never questioned the story. Perhaps the runners wanted someone to attest that the extraction had been voluntary rather than hostile.

He and Hanae would have to go along, with no questions asked. These runners had shown no reluctance to use their weapons.

The prospect of that sort of violence was frightening enough, but people's violence didn't hold the elemental terror of the Dragon. Sam knew too many documented cases of dracoforms making meals of people. The thought of Hanae's tender body being chewed to a bloody pulp in the serpent's toothy jaws nearly brought his meal back up.

All he could do now was keep his word to Drake. Interfering with the extraction would only put Hanae in more danger. He would keep his eyes and ears open, and they would escape the runners, soon as he could find a way. Delivery of Drake's guest was the runners' primary concern; they wouldn't bother to chase him and Hanae down. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.

Sam moved back to the niche where Hanae slept, assured that he would protect her. How could he betray that trust? He had to see her to safety if he could.

He sat down where he could see her face in the predawn light filtering into the building. She looked so peaceful. He leaned his head back against a crate; it was hours before sleep finally came.

15.

Crenshaw stood by the door for a few minutes, watching the activity in the room. Most of the work stations were occupied. A quick glance at the duty board showed that the personnel belonging to the empty slots were out on assignment. Everyone was busy, or at least busy looking that way. Marushige presided over the room from his operations desk. She took the dark circles under his eyes as confirmation that the security chief had been up all night watching events develop on the situation screens that filled one wall.

Despite her personal interest in the case, she had slept. Let others do the groundwork and the backchecking. This one was not going to be a hot pursuit. She didn't care much for the chase anymore, but she intended to be in on the kill.

She crossed the room to the ops desk, avoiding several collisions with scurrying staff. She would normally have resented that they didn't watch where they were going. When she had worked in such a room years ago, she had always been aware of what was going on around her. But today was different. She felt good, knowing that she had been vindicated.

"Told you he was a problem," she said, coming up to Marushige.

He glanced at her, letting his mouth quirk up in an expression of annoyance. "Yes, you did. Do you feel that you have accomplished something?"

"If you had listened to me, this all could have been avoided."

"Is that what you've told Sato?"

"I haven't told Sato anything."

"How considerate," Marushige snapped.

Crenshaw ignored the sarcasm. She was really feeling expansive today. "He does want a full report, though. He seems concerned that your lack of security will reflect on him. He doesn't like that sort of thing."

"So speaks the great Lord Sato's new mouth. I'll make a report when I receive a request through channels. He'll have to get in line behind President Huang."

"The president has forsaken his computers and taken an interest in this? How fascinating."

Marushige shot her a sour look. "Look, Crenshaw. I don't need this right now. Huang's interest is purely routine, just like this extraction. Verner was only a minor researcher and the woman was only an office lady. They are no loss to Renraku."

Crenshaw chuckled. "All of this interest on your part is hardly routine."

"As you said, Sato doesn't like security problems of any kind."

Crenshaw knew that Marushige was aware of Sato's power. Hadn't he assigned her to the Kansayaku, hoping that she would screw up in front of him? Sato's presence was a two-edged sword. Marushige's own performance was in the spotlight now. He desperately wanted to keep his job, and Crenshaw was in a position to slant the Kansayaku's opinion. Sato's displeasure would be enough to get Marushige sacked, which the security chief knew as well as she did. All he wanted to do was to tie up the loose ends and put this problem to rest. But there were too many connected with Verner's extraction.

"The Dragon that scared off our pursuit craft suggests some real muscle behind this run," Crenshaw said.

Marushige grunted noncommittally as he tried to read a report just handed him by an aide.

"Verner must have lifted something important."

The security chief slapped the flimsy down. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Just trying to understand what has happened, general," she responded with false innocence. "Kansayaku Sato might ask me some questions. I would hate to have to tell him that the arcology security chief doesn't know what happened or why."

"I'll bet you would."

"I've told you before that I don't want your job." She was used to his disbelief on that point. "But I do want to see that thief Verner get what's coming to him."

"We've found no indication that he left with anything other than himself and his lady friend. Nothing reported missing from any of the labs and no Matrix security breaches. With his limited access, the likelihood that he carried off any significant data is extremely low."

"Maybe his benefactors thought his connection with Aneki would be worth something." She brayed a laugh. "They'll be disappointed."

"Yes, well, it won't be the first time someone lost an investment in a speculation."

True enough, she thought. But she was still convinced that Verner was involved in something more than a simple escape. He had shown himself too stupidly loyal to Renraku, too obsessed with his goblinized sister. Getting Sato to tell Verner that he could write letters to her should have kept him in the arcology. The wimp wouldn't have run out. There was another angle to this operation, and she was going to find it.

"What about the guy on the gurney?" she asked.

"What about him? No other personnel are reported missing, so he's not one of ours. We have several reports of some Rumplestiltskin's customer getting sick just before the DocWagon aerial ambulance got there. That guy vanished only a few minutes before the runners came through with their gurney."

"So you think he was the patient?"

"Our rooftop cameras recorded the extraction, and the sick man matches the physical description of the body on the gurney. Seventy percent certainty."

"But not one hundred."

"One cannot expect much better from only verbal descriptions and trideo surveillance of a masked and shrouded person."

"That's true." So Verner wasn't selling someone else out. Still, there had to be more. "Pity about the Ork dying. She might have told us something."