The pair reached the designated door. As Teresa crossed in front to take a position on the side of the frame opposite Estios, Dodger switched cameras and checked the room to satisfy himself that all was well."All clear," he sent on the tight band. "Bonding charge is off. Only the panel lock left.''

Estios nodded once to Teresa. He barely waited for her to signal her own readiness before stepping away from the wall. He faced the door and kicked. A por- tion of the frame tore free. Estios used the recoil of his kick to drop back in a crouch. Teresa cut through the door and rolled to the left as Estios aimed into the room, ready to take out any threat.

As Dodger had known all along, there was none.

A dazed Pietro Rinaldi awoke with a start. He blinked sunken eyes into at the gun-wielding elves fac- ing him. Like any intelligent person, he made no ex- traneous movements.

Estios released he left-hand grip of his Steyr and slammed a fist onto the floor. Furiously, he shouted into his microphone. "What kind of drek you pulling here, alley runner!"

"Please, noble rescuer. Lower your voice. I think you're disturbing the good father. As well as possibly alerting ATT-Multifax's sluggish but still present se- curity forces."Father? This guy's & priest?"

Dodger was inordinantly pleased with himself. See- ing Estios lose his cool was so gratifying. "Now, now.

319.

Don't let your prejudices show. It's bad for public re- lations. Times are difficult and 'the enemy of my en- emy' and all that. The good father opposes our mutual foe and is their prisoner."

"That's his problem."

"You are being short-sighted, Ice Eyes," Dodger chided. "This gentleman will have information we can use."

Estios began to bristle, working himself up for a blistering retort, but Teresa touched him on the arm.

"Dodger's right," she said softly. Her words made Es- tios flinch, but at least he stopped sputtering.

"Besides, since he has seen us, we can't leave him for them.""And leave you should. I've got activity on the mo- tion detectors in the cross-corridor at junction three."

"Frag it!" Estios exclaimed. "I don't like being used, alley runner. I'll get you for this."

Despite his comment, he helped Teresa get Rinaldi to his feet. An elf on either side, the priest was able to shuffle fairly quickly down the passageway.

Dodger guided them through the building, steering them past guard stations and roving patrols. His best information said that the staff of ATT-Multifax weren't part of the Circle's conspiracy, but their building se- curity was still charged with apprehending intruders.

Two elves escorting an emaciated priest would defi- nitely attract their attention.

Once the elves and the priest were in the elevator and on their way to the roof, Dodger decided to switch back to the level where Rinaldi had been held. It wouldn't do to have a hue and cry go up. He switched to the zone in time to see a group of four people mov- ing toward the now-vacant holding area.

"Drek! It really is Wallace.""What did you say, alley runner?"

Estios's query made him realize he had broadcast his surprise.

320.

Robert N. Charrette "Nothing," he responded quickly. "Just get in the veetole and go."

Estios made some kind of response, but Dodger was too busy studying the druid's party through the secu- rity camera. He couldn't see any transmitters, which was good; he would have a chance to slow them down.

He started isolating the floor by activating all the tele- communications circuits for the zone. As the druid's party discovered their prisoner was gone, he was un- leashing an expert program that would flit about the system causing mischief. Until someone isolated the bug, it would look as though a bush league hacker had broken through the building's ice and was flexinghis muscles by messing with the telecommunications lines. By then, Dodger would be long gone. He hoped.

As he expected, the first move of Wallace and her goons was to use a telecom to alert the rest of the Circle. While they struggled with the phones, Dodger continued his guerrilla tactics. His ground team had exited onto the roof, so he shut down the elevators.

He tensely waited for the veetole to lift before initiat- ing the next sequence.

Finally frustrated with the telecoms, Wallace led her goons toward the elevators. He had only seconds be- fore they decided to use the stairs. One by one, he cut off the security cameras in the sub-basement, starting with the one commanding a view of the elevator lobby.

He was rewarded when the ATT-Multifax security triggered the building's intruder alarm. The alert status let him tweak the response and initiate the magnetic locking of the stairwell doors, to completely trap Wal- lace and her flunkies on a level about to beassaulted by security teams. As a parting shot, he programmed the sub-basement's sprinkler system to function in ran- dom bursts and set off the fire alarms throughout the basement levels. The noise and discomfort, would go 321.

a long way toward distracting Wallace from using magic to solve her dilemma.

He wanted to stay and watch the fun, but there wouldn't be much for him to see with the cameras out.

Besides, he had places to be. He sent the go signal on ahead and slipped out of the ATT-Multifax system as stealthily as he had crept in.

Glover watched the lights of the departing helicopter disappear into the distance. The craft was carrying Ashton to investigate the trouble at the ATT-Multifax complex. There had been no word from Wallace and something seemed to be amiss on the lower levelwhere Glover had arranged for the storage of Hyde-White's prize captive. The disturbance might have nothing to do with the captive priest; there were enough targets throughout the complex to attract shadowrunners.

The Circle had taken care of the rest of the priest's team and were still successfully blocking the Vatican's in- quiries. It seemed unlikely that a second team would have been dispatched this soon, and the priest hadn't been in the country long enough to ally himself with other parties. Still, with Wallace out of touch, Glover didn't want to take any chances. If there was a threat to their interests, Ashton's magical muscle and his overly enhanced bodyguards would handle it.

But until Wallace and Ashton returned, the Haw- thornwaite Tower's magical defenses were weakened.

With Carstairs' loss to the shadowrunners, the Cir- cle had lost its best situated connection in the local government. The protection afforded their operations hadn't totally disappeared, but it had been reduced, forc-ing them to regroup. They had been using Carstairs'

residence as their chief base of operations, and his death mandated that they seek a new location.

Nearby living quarters for all members was desirable for mu- 322.

Robert N. Charrette tual support, and easy access to the lower classes a vital necessity for the continuance of the ritual cycle.

Plausible mundane world connections were needed, for the Circle was obliged to remain hidden until the power ritual cycle was completed.

Brighton Centrum had seemed the perfect choice.

Sir Winston Neville owned the land on which the Cen- trum was built, and besides being the leaseholder, he was a major stockholder in the holding corporation which administered the complex. The former arch- druid's public connections with Gordon made it easy cover his transfer to the Complex beneath the guiseof social affairs. Some of the Circle needed no special arrangements to move their operations to the Cen- trum. Hyde-White's GWN Corporation already main- tained residential floors in the Hawthornwaite Tower, as did Ashton's Miltech Research. ATT had residences in all three towers, and it had been simple for Glover to invoke executive privilege to take a residence in the tower. Bringing Barnett's General Services in to re- place the security corporation had only left Wallace without a business reason to be there, and she was rich enough to afford one of the luxury flats. Thus had the Circle gathered under one roof, with no one the wiser.

A buzz from the telecom interrupted Glover's chain of thought. Barnett answered it, as was appropriate: the call tone had indicated the building security line.

There was a hushed conversation, most of which Glover didn't hear clearly, but he had caught enough to be unsurprised when Barnett said, "I say, Glover.

Security seems to be having a spot of trouble on theplaza level."

"Why should it concern us?"

"Well, really, I am not sure that it does." Barnett stroked his mustache in a nervous gesture that Glover found irritating. "We've been having a rash of alarms throughout the complex tonight. Most of them have 323.

been false, but this is most definitely not. Sec desk is reporting ten or more heavily armed intruders wreak- ing havoc on the lobby and mezzanine levels."

"Have they attempted to force entry into the Tower proper?"

Barnett shook his head. "Not as yet. Their violence is without pattern, and individuals are reported to be evidencing berserker fury, which has led Sec Desk to suggest that we are dealing with a flashmob outbreak.

Personally, I find the scale of this assault disturbing."

Glover was annoyed by the whining tone in Barnett'svoice. "Then perhaps you had best attend to it per- sonally."

"But the Circle's anonymity ..."

"Will be safe," Glover finished for him. "You are a licensed druid and no one think twice if you defend your residence, especially in aiding a security corpo- ration which you own."

"Good point."

Barnett demonstrated his concern by leaving the apartment posthaste. Glover returned his attention to the skyline. Ashton's helicopter had long since van- ished. After a moment, Glover felt a presence at his back. Refocussing his gaze, he saw Sir Winston Nev- ille's gaunt face reflected in the transparex.

"Now shall we tell Hyde-White, archdruid?" Nev- ille asked petulantly.

Glover frowned.

Archdruid indeed. The title he had coveted for so long had a hollow ring these days. While Glover wore the title, the members of the Circle always seemed to look to Hyde-White for direction. Without a struggle, the fat old man had leeched the leadership role andprestige from Glover. How had Hyde-White managed it without Glover noticing? He never missed a power shift in ATT and had always moved with the flow to increase his own influence. So, what had happened 324.

Robert N. Charrette within the Circle? Without the fat old man actually present, Glover was still master of the others, so Glover was not totally without influence.

Hyde-White was foolish in allowing Glover to garner the lion's share of the power their rituals raised; one day that shortsightedness would turn around and bite him.

Glover would not stay first in the Circle in name only.

He may have missed the opening pitch, but the wickets weren't down yet.

"Archdruid?" Neville prompted.

Glover shook himself free of his brooding and turnedto his questioner. Neville stepped back, apparently startled by something he saw in Glover's face.

"I just thought that," Neville began. "I meana151if there is a significant danger, he should know.''

' 'And show weakness by running to him over some petty problem that most likely has nothing to do with the Circle? You don't know him half as well as I do, Sir Winston. You would only earn his scorn."

"And if it does concern tie Circle?"

"Then we shall resolve it and present him with the evidence of our efficiency. We captured the priest without his involvement, as you recall. We shall show him that the Circle is no longer weak."

And I will have shown that I no longer need his strength.

Sam could see some kind of commotion at the base of Hawthornwaite Tower. Flashes of light from heavy weapons fire and magical blasts lit the sky with the sudden violence of summer lightning. The arcane bolts were coming from inside the building, which most likely meant that one or more of the druids was in-volved. The Centrum's security company had no on- staff magical talent, relying on quick response from the municipal police forces. Sam was pleased. The 326.

Robert N. Charrette distraction would only make his job easier, perhaps changing the odds of success from utterly impossible to only mostly impossible.

He banked the Fledermaus, sending it in a wide curve around the western tower. Locking the maneu- ver into the autopilot, he relaxed and sent himself down into trance to free his astral body. Any warning his reconnaissance might give now would be minimal.

He ghosted through the target floor and found nothing alive. The thing coiled on the sanctum's arcane dome hissed at him, but did nothing to impede him. As he passed through an area set aside as an office, acom- munications device buzzed, demanding attention.

An immediate response cut off its strident complaint.

There had been a telecom in the sanctuary; Hyde- White must have answered the call from there.

He rejoined his body as the Fledermaus finished its turn. Sam called up an overlay graphic to the heads- up display and confirmed the target floor. Dipping the nose of the craft, he headed in.

One hundred meters from the tower he switched on the auxiliary motors, giving the three craft the extra power they'd need to deal with the updrafts around the building. His screech transmission to Willie was an- swered at once. Sam blew the armament covers, send- ing fragments of radar-absorbent panels fluttering toward the ground, then cut the trailing craft free.

They'd be under Willie's control for the final approach; there was no longer any need to maintain comm si- lence.

"Fifty meters, Willie."

"Affirm."

"Launch on three."

"Wilco.""One. Two. Thra151"

The Fledermaus bucked as it launched the single air-to-surface missile slung under its belly. Flashes of 327.

fire lit the cockpit from either side as the remotely piloted craft launched their missiles simultaneously.

The floor-to-ceiling transparex windows of the tar- get floor dissolved into millions of fragments under the hammer blows of the triple explosion. Sam fought the controls as the backblast washed over the Fledermaus.

Somehow he managed the keep on the flight path.

An updraft caught the craft just as its nose reached where the windows had been. The tail drifted forward and one wing dipped. Dipped and caught against the build- ing. The 'Maus slewed around, flopping hard on its belly. The light craft bounced, then came down again on its nose, balancing precariously. Sam, hanging in the safety harness, saw one of the other craft noseup as it crossed their newly made threshold and kiss the ceiling inside the residence. The collision canceled its momentum. The Fledermaus's tail was still hanging outside. With a grinding roar, the craft slid backwards and out into space again. Sam could picture it tum- bling toward the plaza.

Thank you, Lord. That could have been me.

His own craft rocked backwards, its precarious balance disturbed by the rush of air chasing the plum- meting Fledermaus. Sam's teeth slammed together as his aircraft crashed to rest in a horizontal attitude.

Half-dazed, he flicked the harness's quick release with one hand and with the other triggered the explosive charges that blew the canopy open.

He crawled shakily from the wreckage of his Fle- dermaus, eyes flying across the area in search of any opposition. Finding no immediate threats, he checked the status of the third craft. The other 'Maus had made a perfect landing and was discharging its cargo.A dozen rigger drones rolled down the extended ramp.

Each drone ran on four fat, deeply treaded tires and 328.

Robert N. Charrette looked remarkably like a child's radio-controlled toy.

But no child had ever had such a toy. The drones were armored with ceramic composite plates and armed with fully automatic pistols mounted in extendable tur- rets. Each was equipped with a dog-brain that allowed it limited tactical responses when the rigger wasn't di- rectly controlling it. The expert system wasn't a great shot or a canny fighter, but the drones would make good pillboxes capable of suppressive fire. Their small size made them difficult targets.Once off the ramp, each drone turned in a different direction. Most were headed for the entrances to the residence level; their job was to limit reinforcements for Hyde-White. Some stolidly climbed up and across obstructions, proceeding in direct lines to their sta- tions. Others whizzed around debris, taking corners as if they were driven by tiny, demented road rally driv- ers. Sam thought he knew which ones Willie was run- ning. Within thirty seconds, only three remained in sight, and they had taken up station in a triangle with Sam at the center. Their turrets swiveled to allow gun and camera sight to cover a circular field of fire.

Smoke from the missile explosions filled the air, cutting visibility. Sam crouched, trying to keep his head below the smoke. He had to move cautiously; there were plenty of places to hide in the warren of living spaces that made up the residence level and no guarantee that Hyde-White was still in the sanctum.

Sam drew the Lethe. If by some chance Janice had been present in the sanctum and was now roaming the floor, he didn't want to shoot and kill her. Once hehad a better idea where the opposition was, there would be time to shift to the heavy Ares Predator fill- ing the holster on his left hip.

The stalk through the apartment was slow, lengthened by Sam's caution. The metroplex's night sounds were 329.

distant. They faded from Sam's awareness. Only what was near at hand mattered. He stepped carefully, try- ing to move silently. He listened for the slightest sound. The drones escorting him hummed almost in- audibly.

"Bogey. North Quarter," Willie announced sud- denly in his ear reciever causing him to jump. "Tally ho!"