[rednblack]

James moves his index and middle finger across Illeana's palm in quick succession, miming running legs, then spells out W I Z.

He makes quick work of the stealth tags once they've been located, cutting just along the seam of his and Illeana's clothes, and depositing them in his pocket.  While Ace Holt is so rudely interrupted in his tryst by goons who think they've sprung a lethal trap, James checks the underground walkways for the easiest mode of egress.  He comes up short.

N O C L E A R E X I T he taps into her palm in morse code.

James ponders his possibilities.  He could easily replace the tags, have Illeana stitch them in place in such a way that they could be removed even easier and more quickly next time.  They could go back to the apartment without a fuss, perhaps give Hartman and Towser an opportunity to grow complacent.  Ha ha, James.  Complacent and Seraphim don't exactly mix well.  If nothing else, a trip back to the apartment could afford more time for planning. 

But would it get them anywhere?  Their matrix traffic is certainly monitored, and searches on Detroit's underground sewer grid is likely to get his R&R cut short and have him live the next three months in a box before he sees the sky again.  This was always the biggest trick for operatives.  There were very few now or never moments, and a successful agent had to know when to make something out of nothing and when to bide their time. 

It's only been a few days, he says to himself, but he doubts it will get much easier later.  Unless they find a cure or some way to control it.  Now that'd be a first: patient zero also becomes the first patient to be cured.  Doubtful.

James wonders what he's escaping to, then, if he's still going to lose himself.  Again.  Illeana gives his hand a squeeze that brings him back to himself.  That.  That's why.

R U N B L I N D ?

[Tecumseh]

Illeana spends the remainder of the film creating preparations while Ace Holt leaps and lasers and, in the end, finally beds the lovely Mona Lott. The action and romance keep the audience's attention firmly planted on the holographic images while Illeana scratches and scribbles and creates preparations out of popcorn bags and soda straws. She slips them into James' pockets with a fervent whisper about which is which. As the credits roll and the lights come up, Illeana surreptitiously casts a spell so that her shamanic mask blends in with the changing light levels.

The couple stand and exit hand-in-hand. As they approach Towser and Hartman, Illeana steps in front with a smile on her face and a bag of popcorn that may or may not imply that they are willing to share their remaining concessions with the good sergeants. The ork and troll look at her closely but don't recoil or react until the preparations have been handed over, triggering them.

There's a flash as the magic detonates. Towser is left with a look of wonder and ecstacy on his face while Hartman grits his tusks and looks utterly unaffected.

<<Didn't work!>> Illeana comms. James activates his cyberspur and hydraulic jacks simultaneously, launching himself at the troll in a one-man Fastball Special.

The blade reaches for the troll's throat, but Hartman takes a step back to buy himself an extra fraction of a second. With that spare millisecond, the troll's long arms knock James' cyberspur away just enough so that the edge only nicks Hartman's neck. James sees Hartman's Adam's apple bounce up and down and knows that the troll managed to say something subvocally.

There's a scream and a shout in the theater as the crowds exiting the theater witness the attack. Illeana shouts, "Run for your life!" and it's not entirely clear who she is speaking to. Hartman seems to take the instructions to heart, as his look of grim determination quickly transforms into one of desperate survival. He backpedals furiously, trying to put as much distance as possible in between himself and the cybernetic madman.

Towser - his eyes glassy and not entirely focused - reaches for the stun baton on his hip but accidentally grabs his throbbing erection instead. His hand fumbles for a long second before he finally gets his baton (the stun baton) unholstered and ready to strike in case the James' phallic weaponry comes swinging at him next.

[rednblack]

James can't believe how fast Hartman is on his feet.  The troll went from neutral, to confused, to blocking a blow that most wouldn't see coming, and all within a breath.  Tough, and quick.  Incredible reflexes.  And a Seraphim.  But when Illeana screams, "Run for your life!" he takes heed and James takes the opportunity to give another swipe with his cyber spur as Hartman backs up and comms for backup.

<<20 meters east south exit>> James comms to Illeana before tearing off to the southwest. 

Towser fumbles with his stun baton, presumably trying to see if he should attack, or run, or maybe just stand there enjoying himself, and James hydraulic jacks kick into high gear.  Moviegoers duck and run away from him, but at this speed he has to avoid them himself, dodging and pushing through a middle-aged couple who collapse in his wake.

Somewhere behind him Towser drops his stun baton and aims the Ares Executioner at Illeana, letting off a quick burst, which James hears like a whisper over the panicking crowd.  He glances over his right shoulder quickly to see Illeana shiver as the rounds impact.  No time to consider what that means, so James is back to running, his hydraulic jacks pumping away like crazy right at a mass of good wholesome Ares employees who are all trying to use the exit at the same time.  There isn't any time to ponder the hilarity of this image either as James will either need to bowl through them -- unlikely -- or move around them -- unworkable. 

He chooses a third way -- over.  James takes two more steps and the jacks extend fully from a crouch, launching him over the crowd.  He crosses his arms in front of his face as he approaches the ballistic glass, readying for impact.  Two stick-n-shock rounds embed themselves in his back, just between his shoulder blades, and James' vision gives out for a moment as his circuits are overloaded.  When his vision comes back online James has punched through the front glass of the movie theatre, and the ground is rushing up at him.  Luckily, he sees a staircase leading down within 35 meters, so it should only be a matter of seconds that he's in range of the dalmatian drone.

<<SW staircase from exit.>>

He lands in a low crouch, glass sprinkling around him, and he pumps his legs hard toward the underground promenade.

[Tecumseh]

Illeana knows that the call has gone out. Hartman was not surprised, and has certainly radioed for backup. That meant incoming spirits, to which Illeana would be immediately vulnerable. She is a formidable astral combatant on her own, but without her sword her strikes lack impact.

Hecate, send me help! Illeana prays. Hecate responds with a fire elemental.

Protect me on the astral! Illeana pleads as she turns to run. Materialize and fill my enemies' hearts with fear!

The elemental hovers in front of her, arms folded over its smoky, swirling figure. I shall obey.

Towser gets off a shot which pegs Illeana in the back as she runs. The pain distracts her, slows her down a step and she starts the process of weaving through the panicked trid patrons who are not as amused by shooting in real life as they are in the trids.

"Ah!" she blurts out involuntarily as the SMG round pumps her full of painful electricity. Limping slightly, she cuts in front of a retired couple, using them as shields while she makes her way toward the exit.

Above and to the side, there's an explosion of glass. The crowd screams again as James cannonballs through the ballistic glass like he had been shot out of howitzer. Illeana can't see him land and knows that she has two or three long seconds ahead of her before she can catch up.

[Tecumseh]

James leaps down a set of stairs leading to the parking garage and underground promenade below. Landing in a crouch, he takes a moment to spy the security cameras. There are a handful of people and vehicles coming and going. Rather than intercepting any of them, James pops his cyberspur and begins to pop off the casing of a maglock on an Ares Humvee.

In the theater, Illeana weaves in and out of screaming patrons who are all fleeing for the exit. She nimbly slips into the crowd so that Towser can't shoot her in the back anymore, at least not without shooting several civilians first. The firing stops and Illeana bursts through the theater doors onto the wet bricks out in front. Her heart sinks when she sees two fire spirits arrive. She knows what they are there for, and she doesn't have her sword to fight them off easily.

Protect me, Illeana tells her spirit as she flicks her wrist and creates a sword out of magical energy. The spirits descend upon her as she races for the stairs.

James pops open the maglock just in time for Illeana to stagger down the stairs, flailing at invisible tormentors. James tries to see if she's been hurt but one of the downsides of her masking magic is that her appearance doesn't reflect her physical conditions. He sees her slip on the stairs for a moment before catching herself and knows that if wet stairs are tripping her up then she must be getting fatigued, or beat up.

James turns his attention back to the Humvee's ignition while Illeana staggers about, swinging her hands in the air as if she were fending off an invisible swarm of bees.

"Go!" she shouts at James. "I'm never going to be able to fight them all off!"

James feels his inner leader kick in. "You can do it!" he shouts as he tears the casing off the maglock that guards the Humvee's ignition. "You're the best at this!"

"I've already disrupted three!" she shouts back. Her yelling seems to be drawing the attention of some of the other people in the garage. "They're just keep sending more! And bigger!" People are definitely looking your way now.

Tactically, James knows they're in a tight spot. Eluding physical security is one thing, but eluding magical security is another matter entirely. Even if Illeana does keep the spirits at bay, they can simply trail the Humvee until reinforcements arrive. Illeana's dual-nature means that she's always vulnerable, and the fact that she can't astrally project means that she can't lead the spirits away while James escapes with her physical form. And even if she could, who knows if Illeana would even be able to find her way back to her body.

James finishes splicing the proper wires and the Humvee roars to life. He turns to call Illeana, who staggers like a punch-drunk boxer toward the vehicle. She collapses just outside the driver's side door as James gets a notice from his commlink:

<<MARK Granted://Device:5|-|!4\\/\\/453(`/|33|2-5>>

[rednblack]

Upon popping his cyber spur the first thing James does is cut a small sliver of metal from the bottom of the Humvee's driver's side door.  Popping the lock would be easy, even without his tools, but keeping the car's security system from knowing a door was opening with improper authorization, that would be the real key.  Sliver in hand, he used his cyber spur like a wedge to separate the door ever so slightly from its frame.  Let's see, this looks like a 72 model, contacts should be just up. . . Nope.  Ok, then maybe down by the window base?  Nova.

He slips the toothpick-sized steel down onto the contacts with one hand, jacks the door latch with his cyber spur, and breathes a sigh of relief when the door opens and no flashing lights and automated voice pop up.  Giving the sliver a hard press around to the contact to mold it in place until he can get the door shut, he scans the garage in a slow pan, marking cameras as he goes in a short recording which he fires off to Illeana.  A moment later he sweeps his legs in, closes himself in, and starts to work on the steering column, just as Illeana staggers down the stairs.

She briefly tries to wave him off, but James is having none of it, feeling pulled by the desire to rush to her side -- which would accomplish nothing from her astral combatants -- or doing the work to get the car started.  The steering column is sliced down the middle neatly, like a cadaver's body, but James turns to butcher's work as he tears into the incision and rips the foam and synth leather like so much skin and fat that would keep him from the entrails.  Outside, Illeana is spinning as she rushes forward.  "You can do it!" he shouts as he tears the casing off the maglock that guards the Humvee's ignition. "You're the best at this!"  He begins cutting and splicing wires like mad: security override, green-to-black; manual steering override, white-to-pink; manual pedal override, orange-to-blue.  Ghost, this would be easier if I was a decker.

The onlookers are clutching their bags and watching her approach, visibly terrified.  All except for a pair, James thinks, the two women.  They look a little too cool-headed.  He turns his attention away and cuts through the last two wires.  Ignition, red-to-black.  The humvee roars to life just as Illeana collapses outside his door.  Now that the engine is live he can open the door, so he does so, and grabs Illeana with both arms and tosses her into the passenger seat like a half pallet of fight milk. 

"Come on, Kat.  I need you with me.  You gotta buckle up, girl."  Her head lolls to the side, and James pulls on her right arm to put her in position before locking the seat belt in place and dropping the humvee into drive.  Figuring the location is blown anyway, James heads toward the east exit onto the expressway with a screeching of tires, and prepares to merge into traffic.

[Tecumseh]

James uses his Redlined muscles to deadlift Kat and throw her unceremoniously over the driver's side into the passenger seat. Luckily her healing factor means that she's not really susceptible to traditional concerns like cracked skulls and twisted limbs. She's surprisingly heavy for her size, likely due to the densely-packed muscle fibers provided by HMHVV.

James climbs in and checks on her. She is non-responsive but at least she is breathing and maybe moaning a bit, so she's not dead. James figures that the spirits have orders to take her alive, otherwise she'd be exploding blood right now.

After turning on the car, James manually deactivates the vehicle's wireless signal. Doing so may alert the owner, which may alert the authorities, but James is reasonably sure that the authorities are already after him.

James pulls open the glove compartment and finds nothing except napkins, breath mints, and small personal care products. He slams it shut then jabs a hand underneath the front seats, finding nothing but lint.

James puts the Humvee in reverse and peels out of the parking spot. Just as he shifts into drive and slams on the accelerator, he sees the huge form of Hartman barreling down the stairs. The Humvee lurches forward with squealing tires just as Hartman reaches to grab the bumper. The troll sprints for a few seconds but his lumbering form can't catch the Humvee on a straightaway. Instead, Hartman raises his Executioner and opens fire. The SMG comes with a sound suppressor so the shots themselves make little noise, but James can certainly hear it when the back window shatters. He hears rounds thumping into his headrest and knows that they must be non-lethal if they didn't blast through the synthleather like butter.

There's only a second or two before James needs to turn and decide whether he's going north or south. Hartman resumes the chase, perhaps hoping to take an intercepting angle once James is forced to slow down for the turn.

[rednblack]

As the SMG rounds smack into the back of James' headrest and crackle as they dissipate their electronic charge, James tries to keep everything straight in his head.  Some matrix jockey's already on his link, as evidenced by the rogue MARK James was granted, so that makes the perfect trifecta converging on his seditious, unpatriotic, and now criminal hoop.  Nova.

Hooking a hard right toward the south-bound garage exit, James gives Hartman the opportunity to regain some lost distance, but he punches the accelerator to the humvee's limit while Hartman lets loose with another burst against the passenger windows and doors.  James crouches down, and posts a message on one of Baltimore's shadow boards under the "Offering Work" subforum.

<<Decker Needed, Urgent>>
<<5k upfront, 5k upon completion, need remote decking of Ares Host and bricking/looping/fragging of all traffic cameras within 1k of attched location.  Currently under fire.
Need deviced ID: 5|-|!4\\/\\/453(`/|33|2-5 bricked>>
<<-Ace>>

Upon sending the message, James turns the wireless functionality off of his implanted commlink, and reboots his most recent acquisition.  Yeah, like that's going to help you, 'Ace.'  You're fragged, chummer.  Even if you get some hotshot to take care of the 'trix angle for you, what the frag are you going to do about an army of spirits tracking you like wounded game, neh?  You poor fragger.

Hecate, James pleads.  your loyal follower, your loyal followers are in desperate need.  Heed our call.  Ours is yours.  Whatever we have to give, heed our call.

James continues accelerating down the on ramp, and prepares to merge with traffic just as his backup link comes back online.

[Tecumseh]

While James whips the Humvee to the right, Hartman catapults over some smaller sedans and makes a flying leap the Humvee's rear bumper. The troll's finger graze the rear of the vehicle but he can't get a grip. He tumbles to the concrete and rolls forward to avoid grinding to a stop with his face. James checks the rearview mirror and sees Hartman comming something in.

James, like many men in foxholes or bullet-pocked Humvees, tries to find religion. What he gets is a large fire elemental materializing in front of him, trying to bar the way to the ramp outside. Given the look on the spirit's face, he's pretty sure it's not from Hecate.

James floors it, reasonably sure that the well-armored Humvee will smash through the spirit like it would any normal metahuman. He just hopes that the spirit doesn't liquefy and act like a giant molotov cocktail, because that would be bad.

The spirit dives at the last second. Just before the ramp, James finds himself driving through a pool of magical fire. The tires of the Humvee blow out just as James hits the ramp. The Humvee bottoms out badly on the ramp, shooting sparks from the chassis as the metal-on-concrete contact between the ground and the wheels SCREAMS in his ears.

The Humvee launches out of the garage and leaves the fire spirit behind, which prudently stays out of the rain. The slick roads combined with the lack of traction immediately challenge James' control of the vehicle. He whips the steering wheel back and forth, trying to counteract the flailing of the car, while the rain pounds the windshield. James is almost certain that the Humvee is about to flip when he feels a burst of adrenaline, an acceleration of his senses that give him just a little extra touch of control over the vehicle. Illeana stops banging her head against the door as James straightens out.

James deftly avoids merging into another vehicle as pedestrians and others jump out of the way of the screaming, skidding Humvee. He finds himself traveling south on Woodward Avenue, maybe 100 meters north of Campus Martius Park. Past that, it's another 500 meters to the river. I could sprint that in less than a minute, he thinks to himself, but right now it feels as far away as Zurich-Orbital.

His commlink pings with responses to his emergency request:

>>>>>(lol wut)<<<<< -b453m3n7 dw3ll3r

>>>>>(Chummer, you done the math? You know how many cameras there are in a 1km radius? That'd be, like ¥1 per camera.)<<<<< -Gorgeous Georgius

>>>>>(Acknowledged. Maintain course and velocity.)<<<<< -Anonymous

[rednblack]

James keeps his foot firmly planted on the accelerator.  The rain hinders any sparks from rising up from the road, but the grinding sound is horrific.  He looks up into the sky, checks his mirrors, and weaves past a small sedan which brakes in his wake giving him a wide berth.  Nothing to be seen, though the Dalmatian can't be far off, its own visibility no doubt limited by the rain.  The humvee protests another change of lanes, and James almost runs into the rear bumper of a GMC Commodore.  He loses precious seconds hitting the brake and hydroplaning into the left lane and clipping the front wheel of a Buell Spartan off-road bike -- Hey! just like Vale Runs-as-Deer has -- but unlike the Vale of the trids, this unfortunate rider eats drek into some well manicured and genetically modified hedges marking the median, while the bike slingshots back to the curb thanks to its gyro-stabilization. 

Unfortunate about those hedges.  James knows they're designed to provide a fairly soft landing for vehicles; they're great at absorbing shock and dispersing it over a wide area, but as a result the individual branches have very little give for a soft metahuman making an unexpected landing. 

Tough luck, chump, the cybered-up super soldier thinks briefly as he rights his vehicle and tries to make up for lost time against the protesting rims of the humvee.  With his transportation under some semblance of control, James checks things out in the matrix, but finds all of the cameras at least appear to be functioning normally. 

Well, Anonymous, here's hoping you come through. 

Out of nowhere a sharp ping! emits from the passenger door, and James turns to see a security guard under a giant Ares National Bank ARO leveling a Predator V at him.  Then more security guards follow.  Two more from the bank, who have little to shoot at as James roars past, but then some from buildings up ahead, their bullets making spider webs of the humvee's windshield.  "So much for non-lethal, eh Kat," James says under his breath as he finds some cover, for a second or two anyway, alongside a municipal dump truck.  He weaves past it to the sound of an additional burst of gunfire. 

Hunched low in his seat, James checks his link for any rogue MARKs, and sees a choice approaching under his AR overlay.  Just under one hundred meters in front of him he sees Hart Plaza fast approaching, with Riverside Ares PD just beyond.  The plaza is mostly empty of pedestrians, but James knows that telescoping bollards are common in these locations for fending off terrorists who would like to make an example of city landmarks.  Bates might be better, he thinks, lifting his foot from the accelerator as he approaches Jefferson Ave.

"Hold on, Illeana.  In three," James blows  past another Commodore, even though he's losing speed.

"Two," in the left lane he punches the brake pedal, and while admirable the ABS system strains to get any grip on the rode, and James is sure he sees the tread from one of his tires spin off in the rearview mirror.  The humvee finally stars slowing considerably just as he crosses the threshold into busy Jefferson Ave.

"One!"  He spins the wheel hard to the left.  The humvee continues on his current trajectory for what feels like way too long before it makes traction and the humvee jerks sharply as James floors the accelerator.

[Tecumseh]

Illeana mutters and mumbles as her arms rag-doll around the Humvee.

On three, James spins the wheel hard to the left. The sound is horrific and James is positive that the Humvee is going to flip and cartwheel its way into Hart Plaza. He knows it won't help, but he leans hard into the driver's side door, and says another prayer to Hecate. And, just like that, the Humvee settles and rights itself without flipping. In a debate for theologians and atheists, James will wonder if Hecate answered or if he's just lucky.

Bates is only 100 meters away. James prepares to ask Luck or Hecate to help him with the right turn down Bates when he catches something in the rearview mirror. A vehicle is flying down Woodward, straight at him, fast as a crossbow bolt. It's a Rover Model 2072, of all things, travelling at hundreds of kilometers an hour. Magic, James thinks to himself, wondering why Ares would send a Rover, of all things.

The Rover is on him in a second. It slides into place alongside the Humvee just as James spins the wheel hard to the right. The Rover clips the front bumper of the Humvee just so, straightening it out and pushing it back on course, traveling NE on Jefferson. Under other circumstances, the Humvee would have ripped through the Rover like tinfoil, but without tires the Humvee just doesn't have the traction to exert much lateral force.

James looks over. The driver of the Rover doesn't even look at him. Is he wearing a cowl? James wonders. Seraphim?

Jefferson is covered in deep puddles, the product of all-day thunderstorms. One of these moves and shimmers until it pushes upward, seizing the Humvee. Water drowns the engine compartment, flooding the engine which coughs and sputters to a stop. The Rover stops with it.

The Rover edges forward so that the Humvee's passenger door is alongside the rear sliding door on the driver's side of the Rover. The sliding door opens and James sees another man in a cowl, wearing thick robes that look very out of place. He appears unarmed, unless he has something tucked away in the folds of his heavy robes - a very real possibility. The man gestures and there's a flash of blinding, obvious magic. The door of the Humvee is ripped off and launched down the street. Illeana starts to levitate and then crosses over from the Humvee to the Rover.

In front of the Rover, a massive spirit emerges from the astral, looking like a thunderstorm trapped in a tornado. Even to James' amateur eye, it looks like a Great Form Spirit, and a nasty one at that.

The man - a large ork by the size of his build, although his face is hidden under his cowl - extends a hand to James and says, "Komm mit mir, wenn Sie leben wollen."

[rednblack]

In a flash the humvee's passenger door rips from its hinges and bounces down the street on its side as if it was hurled by some great wind.  Before James can react, Illeana's unconscious body lifts from its place in the passenger seat and floats to the Rover as James finally begins fumbling with his seat belt.

"Komm mit mir, wenn Sie leben wollen."

What the frag?  Saeder-Krupp?!  Black Lodge?  Worse?  James is woefully unprepared in German, but with the man's beckoning hands, he gets the gist, and launches himself across the seats and into the Rover as a spirit nearly the same size as the Rover materializes in front of it.  The door slams shut, and the vehicle picks up speed unnaturally quickly, sending James sprawling toward the back.

"Mana barrier!" he calls out facing the ork-sized meta in the cowl, spinning his fingers around the interior of the van and then making a gesture as if he was holding a ball.  Only then does he see the runes inside, carved into every surface, etched into the interior and seats alike. 

He visibly sighs before daring a look outside the window, watching the spirit, some great amalgamation of a storm with a rough funnel shape trailing behind them, kicking up great bits of debris, and casting aside some of the smaller cars in its wake.

"Gun!" James says above the roar of the wind passing by as the Rover shudders against the air resistance.  He extends his index finger and cocks his thumb back, repeating "Gun."

[Tecumseh]

The door of the Rover slams shut and the driver punches it.

Through the windows, James has an excellent view of the great form spirit descending on him like the wrath of Damien Knight. The Rover shakes as violently as if it had driven into a tornado. The pressure in James' ears builds to a painful degree before the glass of the Rover shatters. He throws an armored cybearm in front of his face to shield his eyes from the shards of glass.

But the runes hold and the spirit stays out. "Gun!" James shouts, or at least he thinks that he does. He can't even hear his own voice over the din. In any event, the request is ridiculous. He might as well try to shoot a typhoon.

The Rover rocks and James wonders if it will flip. The headwinds are so potent that the Rover is being pushed backward on the slick concrete. Looking out the back, James sees the smoke from the tires spinning helplessly moments before the wind circulates the acrid stench.

He can't hear them, but James sees flashing lights converging on his position. Even if the spirit can't get him, it can hold him in place until the backup arrives.

There's a screech, so loud that it cuts through the noise of the wind like a guillotine. James looks up, unsure of what would be loud of enough to hear over the wind that wouldn't simultaneously deafen him. He hears it again, but for the life of him it sounds like it's coming from inside his head.

The sky shimmers. A huge form takes shape, flapping wings with steady, strong beats. The blurry shape darkens, then comes into focus, as if it had been there the entire time but at the wrong depth of field. It's fifty meters long not including the tail, with a wingspan just as wide. Four legs, long neck, and more teeth than James can count. It's a western dragon, and it's flying right at the Rover.

It's an illusion, James' brain tells him. But he feels in his right mind, like he's certain of what he's seeing.

The spirit doesn't think it's an illusion, and turns to confront the menace. The storm swells as the spirit expands its full force and fury, only to be ripped in half by one slashing blow of the dragon's teeth.

The wind dies instantly. The Rover's tires find their traction on the wet pavement and the vehicle leaps forward. James loses his balance and ends up face down on top of Illeana. He spins to his back to look out the window, only to see the dragon disappear in the same manner that it arrived.

"Los, los, LOS!" the man in the back shouts at the driver over the approaching sirens. Neither of them seem to register the dragon or pay it any attention.

After a lightning-fast 200 yards, the driver cranks the wheel hard right. The only thing keeping the Rover on four wheels must be magic, James thinks to himself, as the centrifugal force of the turn pushes him hard toward the broken window on the driver's side.

The hard turn continues, continues, continues until James finds the vehicle straightening out to dive into the Detroit-Windsor tunnel.

The driver nimbly weaves back and forth through traffic, reflexes clearly augmented. The road noise is loud in the tunnel and James feels nervous over the lack of options other than forward and backward. The shattered windows mean that the Rover is no less conspicuous than the Humvee was with all its bullet holes.

They'll be waiting for us at the other end, James thinks to himself. They have more than enough time to prepare a welcoming party. He spins around, looking for a gun, any gun, but finds none.

"Ja, es gibt sie!" the ork says, pointing out the windshield. The driver barely nods. James looks but all he sees is the rear of a forest green moving truck. The driver accelerates, as if to ram the truck from behind. Turning, the ork returns to the back of the Rover, where he slams his hands together in a deafening thunderclap that reverberates down the tunnel with audible force. As the ork collapses from drain, the two cars trailing the Rover lose control and collide. As they skid to a stop, other vehicles plow into them from behind, creating a frightful pileup.

The rear door of the moving truck rolls open and a ramp slides out. The Rover hits the ramp with a shower of sparks and drives straight into the truck's container. The ramp retracts and the rear door slams back down into place.

For the first time in what seems to be ages, it's quiet. And dark. A light flips on in the container and James sees two more robed figures around the Rover. They open the side doors. One begins to tend to Illeana and the drained ork. James notices a cyberdeck strapped to the arm of the other man, a human male about James' size and age. The electronics look starkly out-of-place with the man's robes.

"Welcome," he says in English with so many accents embedded into it that James could never hope to parse them all. His tone is relaxed but his thin wisp of a smile hints that he understands the insanity of what just happened. "Would you like a beer?"

[rednblack]

"A beer?  Seriously?" James asks, even though he feels incredibly parched.  Nothing sounds better to him right now, he can almost feel nanites calling out for him to shut the fuck up and start guzzling already, but he shoves himself in between the container and the open door of the Rover to watch one of the recent additions tend to Illeana.  James knows there's not much they can do for the ork right now, other than make sure he's stable, but that's not particularly high on his list of concerns.  Satisfied that she's in capable hands, he turns to the man with the cyberdeck, still wearing that drek-eating whisp of a smile.

"I assume you've got those cameras on lock down, neh?"

The man nods.

"Besides that big fragger, they're bound to have other spirits on us."

"It's being dealt with," the stranger replies.

"And the dragon that came out of fragging nowhere?

"Has gone back to, shall we say 'fragging nowhere,' he answers slyly.

"But a dragon, raining hell in downtown Detroit, that's--"

"Our benefactor was not materially present," the man says.  "You will meet soon enough."

"Wiz," James says, coolly, and a silence fills the storage container before James gestures to the man's deck and says, "I guess that would make you my angel on the shadow boards?" and the man's smile grows a little wider.

"Well, it appears you were already on your way, but I guess I owe you some cred,"

"How about that beer?" the man replies.  "We've got a lot to talk about."  The man pops the cap on a Hofbräu Edelweiss and hands it to James.

[Tecumseh]

"Who are you?" James asks.

"We are called the Benandanti," the man answers. "Or, in English, the 'good walkers'."

"Who -" James begins before the man cuts him off with a raised hand.

"Patience," he says, his attention elsewhere. "We are not into the dragon's den yet."

James wants to correct the man's metaphor, reasoning that it is the product of English-as-a-sixth-language, but then stops himself. The man implied they were on their way to meet the dragon. To him, 'the dragon's den' could imply safety and security. James is left to wonder if he has escaped Damien Knight only to fall into the clutches something else.

"Leave your wireless off for now," the man says, his attention still divided. "We are exiting the tunnel. We will be airborne shortly."

James looks to see Illeana and the other mage stretched out and attended to. The driver of the Rover seems to have disappeared to some other task in the container. The hacker starts waving his hands rapidly - augmented speed, James thinks to himself, noting the flow of the man's rapid movements - as the truck barrels along.

"Zwei Minuten," the Rover driver says from somewhere.

The rocking and rolling of the truck is surreal to James. It's clear that it's moving at tremendous speed, and equally clear that the only reason he isn't being bounced from wall to wall is some sort of magical buffering. The effect is not unlike a carnival ride.

There's a distinct bump, and the sensation of rolling up a ramp, then the truck comes to a stop. Then, in an instant, it's moving again. But this time James can tell that the truck isn't driving, but rather something is moving it.

"Quickly, be seated," the man with the accent says, indicating the Rover. He joins James in the rear seat, just in time for a rush of acceleration and the upward lift that tells James that he's airborne.

The back of the container truck rolls open; James sees that he's inside a transport plane of some sort. After a minute, the hacker gets up and James does too. He steps out of the moving truck with his beer and recognizes his surroundings.

"This is an Ares Dakota," he says to no one in particular.

"Ja," the driver of the Rover answers in passing.

"Come," the hacker says to James. "Let us find a more comfortable location. The runway at Windsor airport was not long enough to accommodate a suborbital or a ballistic jet, so we must cross the ocean the old-fashioned way. It will be some hours. No need to sit here on the cold metal. Please, help me with Miss Anghelescu."

He positions himself at Illeana's feet, leaving Illeana's torso for James' cyberarms. He juts his head to indicate that there is some improved seating up a flight of stairs, behind the cockpit that is above and to the front of the cargo bay.