Reluctantly I nodded in agreement. I settled myself comfortably into the seat and let my head drop back against the headrest. The fingers of my right hand drifted up and unconsciously caressed the silver amulet at my throat. Drawing in a deep breath-and savoring what I feared would be the last of the new car scent from my Fenris-I cleared my mind and started the journey within.
Six years ago a series of savage murders had most of Seattle's citizens cowering in fear. They had been tagged the Full Moon Slashings by the NewsNet pundits, and the fact that I couldn't remember where I'd been during the killings had preyed on me. Actually, waking up bathed in blood is what had scared me the most, and it was about that time I heard that the elven High Prince had sent some of his heavy-hitters into town to clean up the problem.
Fortunately Raven found me before the elven Paladins did. He taught me that the beast within me was not always the enemy, but it was a gift from what I thought of as the Wolf spirit. He talked me through one of the changes I undergo when the spirit becomes overwhelming, and he taught me how to control it. He also prevented the Paladins from murdering me while I learned how to master my inner self, then the two of us, to the Paladins' dismay, brought the Slasher down by our lonesome.
Deep inside myself I stepped through the black curtain sheltering the Wolf spirit from everything else that I am. As black as the Fenris, the spirit let a low growl rumble from his throat. Bloody highlights flashed across his glossy coat, then evaporated like scarlet fog. 'You come to me at the behest of the Murder Machine?'
I smiled, which increased the growl slightly. 'Yes, Old One. Kid Stealth sends his love.'
The old wolf lifted his head as if sniffing the air. 'Had you let me take control of the situation, that machine would never have gotten your friends.'
Ice water gurgled through my guts, but I turned my anger and fear back on the Old One. 'No, Stealth might not have gotten them, but I might well have done his job for him.'
The Old One shrugged. 'I am, you are,we are a predator. Prey is ours to take, and our skills are to be employed in its taking.'
'Then lend me those skills, Old One. Stealth promises plenty of good hunting.'
The wolf dropped its lower jaw in a lupine grin. 'Strike swiftly, Longtooth. I will make your strike sure and deadly.'
I opened my eyes and instantly my magically enhanced senses reported to me a world to which I had been oblivious only moments earlier. From Stealth I smelled machine coolant, cordite, and anxious anticipation without a hint of fear. As the Fenris' engine roared to life, my head filled with chemical scents, and the desire to be out under the open skies almost overwhelmed me. Slipping the vehicle into gear, I drove it out into a nighttime that, while dark, held few secrets from me.
The arc-light glare of the Fenris' headlights burned the hopeless expressions on the faces of the street people into black masks of despair. Some shrank back from the harsh light as if it were a laser vaporizing them, while others shuffled forward zombie-like and raised grubby hands in mute pleas for some kindness. Their hands fell slowly when the afterimage of the vehicle faded from their sight.
A tiny knot of razorboys from the local ork gang called the Bloody Screamers scattered as if I'd launched a grenade into their midst. I fought the Old One's attempt to drive the Fenris straight through them. As soon as we sped past, the gillettes slithered from the shadows and taunted us with the insane yelps and howls that were the gang's trademark. Stealth glanced at the steering wheel and then the closed sunroof, but I shook my head. 'Not worth the time it would take to mop up the blood.'
Speeding through the streets, I interpreted Stealth's occasional grunts or nods and steered accordingly on a course he had chosen. I knew where The Rock was, but Stealth had picked out a roste that would both be safe and would let us determine whether anyone was following us. Finally he told me to stop the car and I found myself parking in the shadow of the old Kitchner Fish Cannery-a property that abutted The Rock's fenced-in territory on the north side.
I turned the car's dome light off before either one of us opened the doors. As we alighted, we left the car doors open. Just as we didn't need the light to announce our arrival, we decided we could do without the sound of the doors slamming shut. Stealth's feet made less noise on the gravel outside the car than mine did, but I slid the MP-9 from the door holster more quietly than he pulled his Kalashnikov from behind the Fenris' seats.
Off to the south I could see the pink glow of The Rock's night lights. I figured the distance we'd have to cover at something just under a kilometer, and that began to worry me. Stealth can hit targets at twice that range with ease, and I half began to imagine him up in the cannery giving me all the covering fire I could handle while I went in alone. I turned to confront him with this startling new conclusion, but he held up his left hand to forestall anything I might say.
He seemed to be listening to something in the distance, then he spoke. 'Copy that, Outrider One-our backtrail was clear. Bring it in. Let's do it, my friends.'
I instantly knew he was using his headware to stay in contact with confederates who'd been watching our approach, but before I could draw any conclusion about who they might be, a door in the cannery slid open and a weak, yellow light silhouetted a dozen figures of various sizes and shapes. Almost instantly, above the fish smell, I caught the scent of one or two orks, and the hackles rose on the back of my neck.Who… what?
Then it hit me and I turned to Kid Stealth without trying to hide my anger. 'You didn't tell me you'd brought the Redwings in on this…'
Stealth's head came up and he unconsciously let himself rise to his full 2.3 meters of height7. 'I need you, Wolf, to bring this off. I also need them. Bury the hatchet. The enemy of my enemy…'
'… is still not anyone I'd want marrying my sister,' I finished for him. Stealth had developed a habit of doing anything he could to annoy La Plante after they'd parted company. One of those things was to rescue other La Plante loyalists who had somehow run afoul of the chrome-fisted Capone. Bloody-handed butchers and petty criminals alike, Stealth pulled them out of whatever terminal situation they found themselves in and had formed them into a band who called themselves the Redwings-a not-too-distant allusion to Raven's crew.
I'd not liked them from the start because we'd tangled
7Sure, the legs may look goofy, but when he needs to stand tall, they certainly do the job. over their excessive use of violence in certain situations. While Raven left it up to Stealth to keep them in line, and Stealth freely offered their assistance whenever we needed some added talent, I preferred selecting my own gillettes from the over-abundant supply lurking in the Seattle sprawl.
I spat the sour taste out of my mouth. 'Well, I'll have no trouble with target acquisition.'
Stealth smiled in a most grimly amused manner. 'I also got you some back-up. I hired Morrissey and Jackson- they're on the inside and will take this section of the warning grid down for us.'
I frowned. 'Morrissey and Jackson?'
Stealth settled back down on his spurred haunches. 'The two street samurai you used to rescue Moira Alianha. You know, the two who called us in on the Nat Vat thing?'
I laughed aloud, letting some of my tension go. 'You mean Zig and Zag.' I nodded with satisfaction. 'Good. They shoot straight and fast.'
'Glad you approve. When your two boys take the fence out, we go in hot.' Stealth pointed off toward the seashore. 'La Plante tends to concentrate his guards on the wet side because he expects me to bob up out of the water and come at him from that direction. We'll go in at the other end and just start ripping things up.'
I tossed Stealth a quick nod and he signaled the Redwings to move forward. The light from inside the cannery went out, and the men deployed themselves with quiet efficiency. I followed behind Stealth and hunkered down when he did as we approached the twelve-meter-tall cyclone fence topped with thick coils of razor-wire.
Two figures silhouetted themselves against The Rock's glow as they sauntered toward our position. Stealth moved his head back and forth a couple of times, then allowed himself a grim smile. 'A bit late, but it's them.' He moved forward and I joined him at the fence. Zig, a solidly built razorboy sporting a longcoat and an AK-97, gave me a nod of recognition. 'Sorry we took so long, chummers. The VIP yacht arrived late at the docks-only about an hour ago. Assignments got scrambled. It looks like something is going down very shortly-the yacht's owner and La Plante wandered off for a heated chat.'
Zag-bigger than his Caucasian partner and wearing an orange and black gang jacket with the Halloweener insignia torn off-fished a remote control device from his pocket. He pointed it at the section of fence and hit a button. 'There, it's down. I hope this thing is reporting back normally the way you said it would. If not, we'll have more trouble than we need in about two minutes.'
