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.

49.

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.

After listening a moment, Ghost announced, "Kham's coming."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam reseated his half-drawn gun. A moment later, Sam heard the scuff of feet on the wooden stairs. The door opened and a slightly out-of-breath Kham stomped in.

"You're late, Sir Tusk."

"Dodger," Sam chided. "Glad you decided to show, Kham."

"In your ear, Suitboy," the Ork snarled, walking past him to Sally. "Just turned down an invitation to a party you might be interested in. A lot of Raku types, heavy metal boys, gonna be celebrating the coming out of a certain important person."

"When?" Sally asked.

"Where?" Sam asked.

Kham threw Sam a sour look and again directed his words to Sally. "Shuttle to Sea-Tac lands at eleven. De last stop is de Raku arc where dey expect to board de guest of honor."

Dodger whistled. "The master worm calls and his puppy comes running. Alas for the plotters, Renraku security has tumbled to their scheme. They shall detain Hutten."

"Maybe," Sam said. "I've heard that the corporations sometimes wait until a runaway tries to board an outbound plane before they step in to take him back. The added embarrassment can make a renegade more tractable. If they're waiting at the airport, they may not know he's running to the Dragon. We could make the snatch there."

Kham guffawed. "Oh dem Red Raku boys is waiting at de airport all right. Lotsa dem. Don't need mega-muscle and heavy artillery for a flabby lab rat."

"If they're ready for the Dragon, we can let them have him. Let them dance with the worm. If there are any pieces left after the fireworks, then maybe you can satisfy yourself. If Raku is loaded for Dragon, there'll be no way we can snatch Hutten at the airport," Ghost said.

"Then we'll have to get to him someplace else," Sam announced. "This is our chance. Once he's outside the arcology walls, we'll have a better chance of grabbing him because arcology security won't be in our way anymore. Kham, how exactly did you find this out?"

The Ork never had a chance to answer.

Automatic weapons fire punched through the curtains, stitching a line across the interior wall. Kham stood in the way of that deadly pattern. Collapsing across the table, he grunted in pain and surprise.

A second later, the perforated drapes bellied inward under the impact of a chromed whirlwind of an assassin. Sally was bowled over as the invader tumbled into the room. Slicing his way clear of the entangling fabric with his twin spurs, the razorguy launched himself at the Ork. Ghost fired a burst with his Ingram, but the bullets sped through empty air.

Kham stirred on the table and rolled over in time to see the razorguy coming for him. "Ridley, you crazy-"

"Eat this, tusker," Ridley screamed as he sliced down and through the Ork's upraised arm and into the meat of Kham's thigh. The Ork howled and hit the floor in a welter of blood. Ridley didn't spare his fallen foe a glance before vaulting over the table.

Sam had no doubt about the razorguy's next target; he could see his own image reflected in the mirror eyes. He fumbled for his gun, knowing that even if he managed to shoot the wildman, the drug would not take effect before Ridley butchered him.

Time seemed to move with excruciating slowness. Sam watched Ridley land and absorb the shock on flexed knees. At the same instant, Sam saw Ghost beyond him, raising his Ingram. Ridley straightened, rising up from the cover table had provided. Sally, recovering from her collision with the razorguy's initial rush, was also rising, right into ghost's line of fire.

Sam's hand closed on the grip of the Lethe. Ridley stepped forward, raising an arm tipped with silver death. There was a roaring in Sam's ears as he watched the bloodied blade begin its descent.

The chrome arm connected, but not with Sam. Jaq yelped with pain as she swept the lethal limb away from Sam's head with her own arm. Ridley, knocked off balance, recoiled, turning his eyes on Sam's rescuer.

The delay was all Ghost needed. First one, then the other, of his Ingrams sent slugs crashing into the half-metal body of the razorguy. Ridley spun under the impact, but most of Ghost's bullets had missed his meat. Sparking and bleeding, Ridley turned again toward Sam, a feral snarl on his face. Ghost's next bursts sent the razorguy jerking spasmodically against the wall. He rebounded, leaving a gory smear, and collapsed to the floor.

One gun already holstered and a 25-centimeter Bowie knife replacing it in his hand, Ghost knelt by the shattered assassin.

"Tusker ain't gonna talk now." Ridley coughed blood, but he smiled. "Not bad for an Injun, wuss. Bet you can't do it to my face."

"You're in no shape to fight."

"They'll rebuild me, trog-lover, then I'll eat your heart."

"To rebuild you, they'll need a brain," Ghost said softly as he shoved his blade up under Ridley's chin, through the soft tissue and into the base of his skull. The razorguy spasmed once.

The stench of excrement swept over the sharp odor of expended propellent. The room was quiet again.

"Any more?"

"There were two in the hall," Dodger said, reslinging his Sandier machine pistol. "They have gone the way of all meat."

"Car and driver in the street," Sally said. A secondary explosion punctuated her words. "Now that it's quiet again, I'm going to take a nap." She slid down against the wall, leaned her head against the window sill, and closed her eyes.

Sam walked around the table to where Jaq was tending Kham. The Ork was a mess. Blood was everywhere. "Is he? . . ."

Jaq shook her head. "Not yet. His armor stopped the bullets. The bruises won't be bothering him much. The arm is nearly severed and the major muscles of the leg cut up pretty bad. He's going to be spending a lot of time in hospital."

"Can't you do anything?"

"I'm no miracle worker. He needs a doctor, and a good one at that."

"There goes our muscle power," Ghost said. The only sign of his recent deed was the blood covering his right hand. The knife was nowhere to be seen.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Kham's boys won't run with us if he's down. Without those extra bodies, there's no way to pull it off."

"What about your tribe?" Ghost's instant stone-face told Sam he'd said the wrong thing.

"They have no stake in this."

Ghost was right, of course. The warriors wouldn't risk their lives for someone who was not a member of their tribe. Ghost wouldn't stop Sam from asking, but the Indian's followers were unlikely to risk their lives to satisfy some Anglo's idea of justice, especially if he were ignoring the good advice of their chief.

There were, however, others who did have an interest in the matter at hand and who had no need for Ghost's approval. Help from them entailed another whole set of obligations, but Sam saw no other way to get the force he needed in time to take advantage of Hutten's departure.

"Well, Jaq," he said. "Looks like we'll need some of your people after all."

50.

The ebon boy in the glittering cloak raced along the pulsing paths of the metroplex air traffic control computers. He unerringly, headed for a destination he had visited before. Up a flight of stairs and through a shining door he went, making his way among the hierarchy of subsystems and past barriers as though they weren't there. Reaching the command center at last, he dipped a hand into the data stream and left behind a command. Then he was gone, slipping out past countermeasures that never knew he was there.

The Aztechnology airport shuttle would be delayed on the Mitsuhama pad. In its place, a Federated Boeing Commuter tilt-wing shuttle with Aztechnology markings would land at Renraku Pad 23 precisely on time at 10:42 P.M.

A stop at the transmitter controller belonging to Hadley's Hacks made sure that the launch signal went out along with the regular traffic between the innocent Mr. Hadley and his roving cabbies. With that signal, Sam's plan went into motion. The snatch team was headed for their destination and he needed to be there to meet them. The ebon boy spread his cloak and launched himself into the dark sky of the Matrix, soaring toward the great black pyramid of Renraku.

He circled the construct cautiously, looking for any hint that the system was at other than normal status. Seeing nothing after three passes, he alighted near the same back door he had used during the expedition with Sam. He entered with the code he had stolen and was relieved to find the node quiet. In his excitement, he had forgotten to activate his masking program, and he did so now. Then he rested for a moment, considering the best path to the security systems monitoring Landing Pad 23.