Fujiyama sat in his office staring at nothing in particular; he had the lights at the dimmest setting possible. As he sat he pondered what had gone wrong with his plan, he wondered why Dallas and Dawson were still alive and why he had lost four of his soldiers in the attempt.

He steepled his figures in front of him and thought on all the questions he now had before him. He pressed the hit the button to summon his secretary and waited for her to come in.

“Yes, mister Fujiyama?”

“Send for Meiko Ishidora. Tell her I have a job for her.”

“Right away sir.”

“Oh and have the Rouge sent in will you.”

“As you will.” The secretary said bowing. She turned and walked out of the office to do as she was bid. A minute later a large man walked into the room.

“Ah, Rouge. I’d ask you to sit but I know you won’t. I have a little job for you, I want you to lay off the Orks for a while and see if you can’t find this man for me. I’ve sent out the upgraded versions of you but they didn’t do the job. You my friend may be the prototype but you seem to be better than or run models. See Kimiko she will have the specifics for you. Oh and Rouge, he is one of the ones I sent out and he seems to be the best of the group do not underestimate him.”

“If he is out there I will find him and if he is as good as you say it will be a most…pleasurable challenge.” The Rouge said.

Fujiyama smiled and turned his chair to look out the window at the city. Yes, now things were going to get interesting, yes indeed they were.

By Margravine (Ranger) on Unrecorded Date:

Dallas woke suddenly and completely. There were no windows in the bedroom so he wasn't sure if the antique analogue clock on the dresser meant it was eleven AM or PM. He hazarded that it was morning since what had awakened him were the strident voices raised in argument outside the door. He also assumed it was just an argument and they were not under attack, but he grabbed a sheathed knife and slipped out the door cat quick, ready for anything.

Spyder and Crane were practically nose to nose, their argument having degenerated into hissed insults in the elven language, only the tone of which and not the content Dallas could understand.

He turned and tossed the knife back on to the bed then glanced back at the oblivious elves. He noted Dawson's sardonic presence, his back to the Indian, but he also catalogued the doctor, the shaman, and the cyber freak were missing.

He crossed his arms over his bare chest and nodded at the combatants, "What's up with them?" he asked Dawson.

Dawson swilled his remaining coffee, searched the cup to make sure it was truly empty then shrugged as he half turned to regard Dallas, "The best I can figure is that Crane wants her out of the picture. Says she's not a shadowrunner and she'll just get he elfin ass shot off. His case and point is her getting grabbed. After that tron snatched Spyder he's all for her clearing out and going to ground."

Dallas glanced up as the two elves glared at each other suddenly silent then he spoke casually to Dawson, "I'm no shadowrunner either, but no one's telling me to pack up and go home," he said, "it also seems to me the only one that didn't take a bullet at the garage was Spyder. And as a first time gunshot victim I'd have to commend her on that. It severely frags up your day."

Dawson smirked as the two elves zeroed in on the young Indian, Crane scorching him with a poisonous 'who asked you' glare, and Spyder with a smile, "Damn right," she crowed triumphantly, "And I kept Tyler in check the whole time," she paused as she took in Dallas' appearance.

Her smile turned into a grin as she licked her lips suggestively, "Why Dallas, sweetie, does your friend Lily know what a tasty beefcake you are?"

Dallas glanced down only just realizing he had emerged wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. He shrugged unembarrassed and smiled back, "You should see me in traditionals -- breechclout and moccasins, baby," he said side stepping the question.

Amazingly, Crane's expression darkened further, "This isn't over...Aurore," he said in a deliberately mocking tone.

"It is as far as I'm concerned," she returned with a scowl, "I've told you before, you are not my keeper. You are not responsible for me, I'm responsible for me, so get over yourself."

She turned away deliberately and theatrically slammed her way into the other bedroom, shutting herself off from the men. Crane swore and slammed out through the front entrance. Dallas and Dawson looked at one another.

"So Dr. Lu and Sylph finished up with everyone?" asked Dallas as if nothing unusual had happened.

Dawson nodded and rose to head back into the kitchen, "Yep. Everybody is as good as new. But Crane is looking to be disemboweled by Spyder - he started by chatting up Sylph - just to get Spyder's attention, I'd say."

Dallas nodded as if this wasn't news, "And where is cyber boy?"

"Down in the warehouse going over the truck you brought in."

"Is that wise?"

Dawson shrugged as he poured himself something to drink, "He can't do much to it, and it keeps him out of our hair up here. The guards'll keep him from going out. "

"Now all we have to do is figure out what to do with him."

By Vengence is Mine (Knight_hawk) on Unrecorded Date:

Tyler began to feel with increasing assuredness that he had been sent down here just to get him out of the way rather than to accomplish something. He was sure that no one suspected that he had gotten his memory back. Nor did he think that they knew just how much danger they were in.

Tyler had found all of the bugs and trackers located in the truck that the Indian boy, Dallas he believed was the name, had. He may be a young man but he was good at what he did. Tyler had removed all the wheels and checked every inch of the truck inside and out and had found nothing new. He was about to stop looking when he noticed something odd about the rear view mirror. Upon closer inspection he saw a scratch in the silver backing, as he looked closer he saw that the seal had been broken.

Tyler eased the mirror off the windshield and pried it open carefully. Inside he found a tracker that had been hidden in there. The kid was good but apparently not good enough, whoever had put this here had counted on its placement being in so simple and obvious a place that they would pass over it. Tyler pulled it out and saw that it had yet to activate and was safe for the moment. He closed his hand around it and headed up the stairs.

He walked threw the door in time to hear what was apparently the end of a conversation between Dawson and Dallas.

“Now all we have to do is figure out what to do with him.”

“Do what with who?” Tyler asked. He remembered to go back to how he was before he got his memory back so as not to upset the others.

“Ah, Don’t worry about it. We were just… making future plans, nothing you have to worry about.” Dawson said. Tyler noted that he had managed to surprise both men with his silent approach.

“Ok, oh by the way I found this in the truck.” Tyler said holding up the bug he had found in the mirror. “It hasn’t been activated yet but we should be careful anyway.” As Tyler spoke he slowly closed his fist until he heard the crack as he crushed the bug. Smiling he opened his fist and allowed the remains to hit the table. “Where’s Blaze?”

“She went into that room.” Dallas offered.

"Thanks," Tyler said before he walked out of the room through the door he'd just come in.

By Margravine (Ranger) on Friday, June 22, 2001 - 05:09 pm:

Dawson lifted an expressive eyebrow as Tyler walked in on Spyder without knocking - if she was jacked in there would be no immediate explosion, if she wasn't, Tyler was putting his testicles on the line.

Dallas examined the remains of the device on the table rather incuriously. The latent tracker had been broken, but he noted that it had also been burned out. He was certain Tyler had not been responsible for that and felt slightly better about having missed it, since it appeared to have been nonfunctional. He decided to keep the matter to himself, however, and swept the remains into the trash.

"You missed it because you were down a quart and in pain. Messes with anybody's perception - even Super Cheyenne's," stated Dawson flatly.

Dallas smiled thinly, he knew Dawson was trying to apply first aid to his ego, but it wasn't necessary, "Do you think that joker knows what a drek pile he's in? I mean if Johnny wants us dead, he's sure to want this guy vaporized even more. We're just enemies; Tron is a traitor."

Dawson stretched and sighed, "I doubt it. We can assume Fujiyama's reaction to one of his toys going off line, what we don't know is weather Tyler was a volunteer or a conscript in Fuj's little experiment. And we won't know until he gets out of his memory fog and can answer a few questions."

"So I ask again. What do we do with him? We sure as hell can't trust him, especially when his mind is so unstable. Who's to say he won't snap back to Fujiyama's side in a tense moment?"

"Well, despite what Crane may think, as long as Tyler is muzzy, we have to let 'Blaze' see what she can get out of him. Crane sure as hell can't side step his personal feelings long enough to interrogate even half way effectively. I wish those two would just get a room and get it over with," he finished muttering.

Dallas smiled, "Crane will, however, want to be in on whatever we plan for Fujiyama. I think he's slathering for a chance to blow little bits of ol' John to hell and gone. I think our chance at Greenswag is shot."

Dawson grinned, "Maybe, maybe not. We did do some planning while you were off playing boy detective with your girlfriend, you know."

*****
Tyler walked over to the elf as she sat plugged into a computer deck, looming over her. It took Spyder a few minutes before she bothered opening her eyes and acknowledging his presence, her expression flickering only slightly when it turned out to be Tyler and not Crane, "Wait," she ordered.

Tyler clamped his lips together and remained motionless while Spyder extricated her self from the virtual world and returned to the real one.

She eyed him with a flat gaze, obviously unhappy about being interrupted, she displayed neither welcome nor animosity, "Well?"

"I was wondering when you planned on leaving? Coming with me and going back to what we had," he asked seeing if he could push a few buttons.

Her expression remained the same, "I'm going no where. These guys are my friends, and I owe a couple of them big, so I'm in this game until the end, regardless of what anyone else may want."

"Then I suppose I will have to help you end this 'game' as you call it that much sooner, Blaze."

He smiled as if the action was something that had to be rehearsed rather than something that came naturally. Spyder studied him intently - had he really made that tiny hesitation before calling her Blaze this time, or had she imagined it? She smiled her self, blindingly.

"Great, Tyler, one more for the good guys," she said cheerfully, while resolved to make a study of Tyler a full time occupation.

By Margravine (Ranger) on Sunday, October 07, 2001 - 02:34 pm:

Once Tyler left the room, Spyder returned the virtual world and tried to focus on coding a new masking utility. After a few minutes of annoyance by undisciplined thought tangents, she realized she was too irritated to concentrate on the job at hand.

She opened an encrypted log file and began to record her thoughts as quickly as her deck could transcribe them and then studied herself from a remote perspective. What bothered her most was that she wasn't sure why Crane was so eager to get her out of the group. Was he just paranoid? Was she becoming a burden, or was perhaps unwanted? As the last of the three possibilities crossed her mind, she felt a small quiver on her chin. Frightened, she eradicated the file and then headed for her music file archives to forget herself.
**
Crane propped his back against the outside door and stared unseeing over the all but empty main floor, not knowing what else to do. The problem with Spyder was that she was being selfless. He knew from experience that there was no way to winkle past her stubbornness and that left him few options. Since Dallas seemed determined to bolster Spyder's resolve to stay, he was certain that he couldn't count on much support from the humans in his attempt to force her into sanctuary. Crane didn't stop to think about his own motives for preserving her and continued to rationalize about his presumption of her natural fragility. If he hadn't introduced her to the biz all those years ago she wouldn't be in danger now. Crane blamed himself entirely.

The only other option open to him now was the quick and thorough eradication of the threat to her. That meant Fujiyama and every one who had ever said 'hi' to him or had even heard of the Golden Dragon - the man must be removed from the face of the Earth along with all his cronies. Crane had the feeling he'd need to go out and buy a pair of waders to get him through the river of blood he was contemplating spilling, but as long as Spyder remained untouched this time and, secondarily, the threat to metahumanity as a whole was ended, he was willing to go skin diving in the stuff.

He paced the length of the catwalk, and contemplated the unfinished plans he and Dawson had initiated, Sunday was now just 14 hours way, if Johnny kept to his schedule - and so far Spydie had found no evidence that he wasn't going too - Fujiyama would be just so much fertilizer across the 4th green in less than 24 hours. Crane mentally inventoried his gear. The next step was to infiltrate Greenswag - maybe he should let the humans tag along if they wanted too - as long as Spyder stayed on line and safely out of sight. He had few doubts that she could handle anything the matrix threw at her, but he would not let her risk a cross fire or incidental shrapnel no matter how she whined and bitched. Now all that remained was to talk to Dallas and Dawson without the cyborg getting in the way - too bad he wasn't allowed to kill the thing yet....

*********************

Lily Bao paced the narrow confines of her office, her thumb absently but vigorously polishing a worry stone of antique mottled orange jade, as she considered the thorny question of one Dallas Whitecrow. Or perhaps, more importantly, everything that came in his wake.

In the short time that she had known him, there had been to her knowledge at least two serious attempts on his life. She also suspected, but without hard evidence, that he was at least in part responsible for the execution of Chou Sun Di and his entire cadre. A very dangerous entry on his resume so long as the Golden Dragon organization remained a viable entity on the west coast. He had also had the temerity to worm his way into almost every thought she had these days. She sighed and threw herself on to the uncomfortable futon couch that faced her desk.

The natural animosity between the Hong Society and the Yakuza had flared into an active and burning hatred with the advent of the 'hostile takeover' actions initiated by the latter a few decades before, but Fujiyama, rumor had it, was now despised even by the Yakuza he was supposed to belong to. There might be something there that was worth mining for.

Lily found herself hatching and discarding plan after plan designed to aid Dallas in his struggle against Fujiyama and the Golden Dragon - and not merely because her family's honor rode on their success...she wanted to save Dallas for herself.

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Tuesday, October 30, 2001 - 11:20 am:

Dawson sat and stared numbly at Dallas. For once the kid was carrying a wound more serious than his own, and he was genuinely concerned for his young friend. The shaman had been good, and even now Ray could feel the healing magic course through his body, mending more than just his wound. He allowed a crooked smile, going over recent events in his mind, before speaking again.

"You know, I've only had 4 cigarettes since that fight with those ganger punks. Maybe I'll quit," he said with a shrug. Dallas looked at Ray, astonished.

"I never thought I'd actually hear YOU utter those words, man. Are you sure you're okay?" Dallas asked, a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, kid. I'm okay. Besides," Ray said, tapping the pack on the end-table, "these things'll kill ya." The inanity of the statement coupled with the seriousness of their situation caused both men to begin chuckling, which soon degraded to a full-blown laugh attack. Once through with that, Ray managed to tell Dallas to get dressed "the others might get the wrong idea." Ray glanced down at his pack of smokes, and contemplated... He actually didn't WANT one. So he didn't light up.

When Dallas emerged from his bedroom, Dawson asked quizzically, "Does this mean I'm gonna need a new name?"

Dallas grinned widely before answering, "Don't worry Ray. You'll always be Stinking Man to me." The two chuckled again before turning deathly serious once more.

"OK. What's next?" they both said in unison. Dawson shrugged as if surrendering, then motioned to Dallas saying, "You first."

By Margravine (Ranger) on Sunday, February 24, 2002 - 01:44 pm:

Crane watched from his position kitty corner to the front door as Tyler emerged from the safe house living quarters. He just knew he/it had been in to see Spyder. He grit his teeth and kept his hands off his weapons as Tyler plodded down the metal steps to the garage floor where he started running laps of all things. Crane snaked around the cat walk noiselessly and pushed open the heavy door to the quarters, entering almost simultaneously with Dallas' reemergence from his bedroom dressed a little more sensibly in black trousers and a heavy cotton sweater the color of dried blood. Relishing this cheery thought, he paused at the kitchen to fill a highball glass with Finlandia and ice.

He glared impartially at the other two men, thinking something was just inherently wrong with a Dawson that did not have a cigarette smoking in the corner of his face.

"Your timing is impeccable, Crane," said Dallas, "we were just about to talk plot and strategy."

Crane negligently swallowed half of his drink before deigning to speak, "Oh, goody, so do we start with Fujiyama or do we work our way up to him, merrily weeding out his associates?"

Dawson grunted, "As happy a thought as that is, it'd push up the body count too high too fast and attract a little too much attention - and not just from Renraku which would be bad enough. I can't keep Lone Star off our butts for long if we don't move carefully."

"Which brings us back to Greenswag if we're going for a preemptive," he glanced at Dawson with a faint smile, "so okay, a post preemptive strike against Fuj. From what I saw it's the only time he ever leaves the Renraku Arcology for any extended period of time. If we don't want to beard him in his den - and I for one would vote against an assault on Renraku proper, " he added dryly, "that still seems like our best option."

"One problem being it's Sunday in just over 12 hours," offered Dawson, "so this is zero hour - do we hit or run?"

Crane held up a hand to forestall any other input before he had his say. He hesitated as if searching for the right way to say what he had to say, "I need agreement on one condition before we make any solid plans. Spyder is not suited to combat and I want her kept well out of harm's way. Although I'd like the opportunity to kick her arse down the stairs from time to time, I won't put her at hazard as we did in the garage. And since it seems I can't keep her from participating, I need to know if a heavily armed and armored surveillance van with a good rigger can be arranged...."

Dallas nodded, saving Crane from continuing, "I don't think that'll be a problem. I believe the White Tigers can supply the kind of thing you're thinking of."

Crane sighed lightly unwilling to exhibit his relief, "Have we decided what to do with our Mr. Roboto?"

Dawson frowned, "I'd just as soon skip the security risk if it's all the same to you boys."

He stopped speaking as he caught Dallas staring at Spyder's door. The youth pointed, and as if on cue her door swung open, framing her in the opening as she hesitated, unsure of her welcome. Dallas gestured for her to join them.

"Can you do that with the front door too, bat ears?" asked the ever snide Crane.

Dallas smiled, "Barely. The front door's a lot heavier and it's bullet proof, so I hafta put out a little effort. Don't worry, Tyler still hasn't come back up."

"Speaking of which, High and Righteous Princess Brain, dear, we were just about to discuss what to do with that mechanical pleasure droid of yours. Any brilliant ideas or do I have your Highness' permission to erase the bastard?" He finished in a vicious hiss.

Spyder narrowed her eyes cat fashion at Crane as she moved across to sit next to Dawson. Crane crunched his ice loudly and returned her glare.

"If it weren't for his mental instability, I'd think Tyler would be an asset. But I sure can't vouch for him, and I don't think he trusts me," she said emphasizing the word trust.

"As far as the 'Blaze' impression goes, I'm prettier, smarter, more accomplished, and taller than she was. Not to mention the issue of race. Anyone even with half a functioning brain would notice the differences, so I suspect either he has or rather is just beginning to."

Crane snorted at her analysis, "So does that mean I can kill him?"

She ignored Crane and turned to Dawson, "If only I could get him to sit still for a set of physical and psych tests, I could tell you more. A lot of my work had to do with neurology."

Dawson frowned, "Tyler knows of our connection to the White Tigers," he said gesturing about them, "And their ties with Amos Li, well that's pretty much a non-secret. If any of this gets back to Fujiyama, not only can we kiss our comfy pad here good bye but we can also pretty much count on an all out war in the International District."

Dallas smiled faintly, "You can always use him as cannon fodder, or a spiffy little diversion."

"I wouldn't use him to wipe my arse," muttered Crane through the bottom of his glass.

"In any case," continued Dallas, "We don't have the time right now to mount an observational guard on him, we have more pressing matters before us than babysitting."

"Well then I'm at a loss," said Spyder, "I mean I don't much care what happens to Tyler, but I think he would have moved against us by now if he were still Fujiyama's. He is capable as we all saw. Either way, I'd need hard evidence on his trustworthiness before I made any decision about him."

"You all know where I stand on the issue," growled Crane.

Spyder snapped, "Will you shut up already!"

Crane riposted savagely, "Defending your automaton? Like his abs, digging those biceps? Do you want to be his babysitter, Princess, or do you just want him around for the pleasure of his company?"

"Shut it!" snapped Dawson, "Your little Vaudeville act may go over well in the sticks, but this is the big time kids, and I for one am damn sick of your bickering. Get a room or get over it."

Crane and Spyder both diverted their invective mid spate toward Dawson, "What are you sick!? What a nasty mind! Shut the frag up! Frag it, what kind of thing is that to say! Of all the classless insinuations.…." they said in unison.

Finally, Dallas cut across the sniping with a voice that refused to be ignored "Spyder is part of the team, Crane. It's where she want's to be," he said, "Even in hiding she'd still be a target, this way she has some control. I can understand that and I suggest you try to understand too, because you're going to have to cope with it. It’s a done deal."

Spyder offered Crane an exaggerated smirk as Dallas turned toward her and seemed to penetrate all her pretense with a hard onyx gaze, "Crane is, however, right about you, Spyder. The only reason you got out of that garage alive last night was because you got more than your share of pure luck. You're no good to us dead, so stay out of the line of fire and stick to what you're good at, decker. We'll play bullet catchers 'cause that's what we do."

Spyder looked only slightly chastened, but that was enough for Dallas considering how much façade he'd just cut through to reach her.

Dawson clapped his hands together and rubbed them in mock glee, "Now kiss and make up you two."

"Ewww!" squeaked Spyder, "Do you have any idea at all where that's been?"

Crane affected a wounded look "Now if that isn't a remark from a very dingy pot…"

Dawson rolled his eyes, "For frag's sake can we get down to business here? We have to make a decision about Greenswag. Tomorrow is Sunday and the clock is ticking kids."

The foursome reshuffled themselves for a moment, drinks were poured, snacks were grabbed, decks retrieved, and then they settled down facing each other under the skylight.

"Greenswag Invitational Golf Course," began Spyder in lecturers mode, "has fairly decent security considering it's a golf course. It's not the kind of place that really expects to be invaded by a team of armed runners. Interiors are covered after hours by standard door and window alarms and motion detectors. Everything seems to be covered by cameras including the course, but some are better positioned than others and there do seem to bee a couple of little blind spots."

Dawson nodded, "There are also stationary guards at the front gate with side arms. The also keep riot guns inside their guard booth right next to the panic button that is a direct line to Knights Errant Security. Lone Star really wishes it had the Greenswag contract. There are a dozen roving guards also with side arms. That number drops to six after closing, but the weaponry jumps to SMGs or riot guns. The bad news is the night time guys have dogs, the good news is they are meat, not cyber."

Spyder smiled, "Well somebody has been doing his homework. There is also a small arms room under the concession stand, pistols, SMGs, shotguns, and a few AKs. From the maintenance shed you can get to the tunnels, these are crawl spaces that allow the guys access to the irrigation system. They reach from the structures to the first hole green but that’s it. They're also covered by cameras and motion detectors."

"Nothing you can't handle," offered Crane.

"What about Fujiyama's escort?" asked Dawson, "Anyone get the lowdown on that yet?"

"Can we concentrate on primaries… like how are we going to get close enough to worry about his escort," Dallas requested.

"Well, I can crack the surveillance system without breaking a sweat," said Spyder, "The question is how do you want to go in?"

"At the moment we have two options," began Dawson, "We can get in before they close tonight and stay after lockdown, or we go in after closing. The first would be a rush job I think, considering how few hours are left in the day, so I go with my favorite, the cover of darkness."

Dallas nodded, "That'll also give us enough time to arrange transportation with the White Tigers. Not much cover out there for a van though. We'll have to park by the hedgerow down by the tenth hole where the course does a dogleg."

"If you want to use the maintenance tunnels, we might be able to access them through the drains - again crawl spaces - that lead to the storm drains that empty into the Sound," suggested Spyder.

"Or we could jump the fence," growled Crane.

"Its fourteen foot high," she countered, "and before you ask, Ray, I did not see a likely sniper's nest."

"Neither did I," he groused, "That's why we have to do it the hard way. The only sniper shot seems to be from the rooftops and only a sucker goes for a rooftop shot. I can bring Mathilde anyway, but I don't hold out much hope for a clean shot and a handy getaway."

"Anyway, " interjected Crane, "I have a real need to be the one to switch Johnny off. I have enough in the way of discreet explosives to take out him and any little friends he has with him."

"Well if it’s a bomb, it looks like the first hole would be easiest," offered Dallas, "We can get to that green via the tunnels, set something small enough to wipe out that hole but not half the course," he said eyeing Crane significantly, "And we can even set it off remotely by usurping their cameras and wait until we see Fuj is right on top of it."

Crane smiled, "You know that seems to be the bones of an actual idea, Dallas, lets work on it."

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Wednesday, February 27, 2002 - 03:31 pm:

"Wait," said Dawson, suddenly seeming to remember something important. Damn, but he was an idiot for missing it for this long. "Crane, how did that tech you questioned on the street say he had tracked Hiroshi again?"

"He didn't," Crane blinked as he answered, puzzled slightly about where this was leading. "Why?" Dawson stared absently and intently at the floor as he tried to jar his memory again. The previous night had been so full of activity, pain, and exhaustion that it would mess with anyone's perception.

"Hiroshi had a cortex bomb implanted, which is how Jiro and his boys bit it upstairs, right?" Dawson asked, drawing nods. "And according to your description, Dallas, the other 2 trons exploded in a similar fashion, right?" Dawson furrowed his brow, and stood up, absently putting the end of a pen in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully as he paced.

"What are you getting at, Ray?" Dallas asked.

"How did Fuj know when to press the button?" Dawson asked finally, unsettled at the direction his instinct was taking him. Spyder looked puzzled for a moment before interjecting.

"Couldn't there have been some other trigger device, like a timer or some kind of proximity detonator?" she asked.

"No," Crane said, shaking his head, "even with today's nano technology, that would take up too much space. Too much brain matter would have been lost. The only way to do it would be a radio tranceiver with a short-range detonation impulse."

"So whoever pushed the button would have to be close enough to do it," mused Dallas. "Then, why hasn't Tyler been popped yet? Johnny was close enough to blow the other 2--"

"Cyber-psychosis," Dawson muttered. "Tyler and the other one seemed to have seriously more cybernetic enhancements than the other 2 soldiers. It's possible Fuj didn't want to risk turning his automatons into completely psychotic killing machines."

"Too late for that one," chimed Crane. "That still doesn't have much of anything to do with blowing Fujiyama to bits, does it?"

Dallas' expression flickered, then his face slackened as realization dawned. "If there was a radio tranceiver involved in detonating a cortex bomb, couldn't that also be used to feed info directly back to the trigger-man?" Dallas looked up at Dawson, who stood, smiling at his young friend's quick perceptions.

"Exactly. And a cybernetic tranceiver is alot smaller than a cortex bomb, and is less intrusive. It would make sense that certain members of the cyber-team were brought in with too many enhancements to start with. And Crane, what do you think the most common enhancements are for somebody who wants to be chromed?" Dawson asked, already knowing the answer.

"Cyber eyes, smartgun links, possibly ear enhancements..." Crane trailed off as revelation absorbed the group.

"The perfect, unwitting spy. Tron is probably transmitting everything he sees and hears back to Fuj's command room," Dawson said somberly as he rushed to the front door and opened it slightly to see Tyler still running laps on the concrete floor below. "So, boys and girls, it would seem that we have a second option for the disposal of John Fujiyama." Everyone looked at him as he shut the door quietly and turned to face them again. "We wait for him to show up here and take him out when he does. If last night is any indication, he'll send out a cyber-squad and monitor their progress from a safe place nearby, perhaps a surveillance van or a nearby penthouse..."

(to be continued...)

By Margravine (Ranger) on Friday, March 22, 2002 - 11:47 am:

John Fujiyama clenched his fists in fury, his well manicured nails cutting into his palms, blood staining the expensive French Buff. He watched the silent monitor as his rogue soldier passed the same support pier for the twelfth time.

No cortex bomb! He could have had them all by now, finished this embarrassing interval but for the shoddy workmanship of his supposedly top flight team. In a fit of pique, he'd already ordered the execution of all the lab techs involved, but not the doctor. The doctor was still needed for Fujiyama's plans...for now, in any case. How dare the man scrounge DocWagon's leavings for this most important project! Nor had he anticipated the need for homing devices since none were ever supposed to get lost. They were supposed to have been automatons, following preprogrammed instructions that would bring them back to base or end in destruction. Fujiyama slammed his fist down on the console - he still had no real idea where Number 8 was - only that he was among the enemy, and that he was no longer to be counted on as Fujiyama's creature. He waited, his teeth grinding, waited for a clue to drop.

#######

"So how well do you figure the Fuj has Tyler's brain wired up?"

Crane scratched his scar absently as he ran over the fight in his mind, "From all appearances, our little tin soldiers were controlled as two man teams. If it were me running them, each team would provide video, audio, have weapons up the wazoo, and come equipped with an eraser."

"Well, two of them probably had 'erasers', " offered Spyder, "since they blew chunks of themselves all over the walls."

"But Tyler didn't blow."

"We discussed the possible whys on that."

"Yeah, but not why the next hit squad hasn't shown up."

"Maybe his teammate was audio," muttered Dallas facetiously, "Cyberware for the sake of cyberware just gives me the creeps. It's not like a needed replacement," he said nodding at Crane, "Its just...unnatural."

Crane grinned, "This from a exceedingly and naturally gifted young fellow. Not everyone can do what you do naturally, Dallas, but a lot of folks want to, to be the quickest the smoothest, the whateverest."

Dallas grimaced as Dawson continued, "Maybe you're right though, kid. Maybe this guy doesn't have audio feed. His eyes are obviously artificial, though."

"And there's the augmentation to arms and legs and who knows what else," added Spyder.

Dawson continued as if she hadn't spoken, "But even if he has audio, and we should assume he does until we know otherwise, have we said anything in his hearing that gave us away?"

"I arranged our arrival while I was alone, and I drove while the Thing was googley-eyed with Spyder in the back, so he didn't even see this place from the outside," said Dallas, "I don't think anyone said anything in front of him. Not even references to our allies. Did Sylph or Lu?"

Spyder wrinkled her nose, "No. Sylph was busy trying to get a DNA sample from Crane and Lu was just Lu, a handy guy with a hypo."

"Oh, good analogy, love," jeered Crane, "She just had the good taste to find me fascinating," he turned to Dallas, "But she's right, Lu and Sylph were the souls of discretion."

"So," finished Dawson thoughtfully, "we have an option. All we have to do is figure how to use Tyler against Fujiyama."

Crane frowned, "A few of milligrams of C-12 under the first tee sounds like more of a sure thing to me."

By Margravine (Ranger) on Sunday, April 21, 2002 - 04:05 pm:

"Well why not?"

Crane and Dawson looked at Dallas quizzically.

"Why shouldn't we proceed as planned? I know it is a cliché in every bad movie with a body count, but why don't we split up?"

The other three began arguing against the suggestion at once, but Dallas waved them down, "Hear me out. Spyder and Crane could carry out the Greenswag operation with a rigger's help. Dawson and I could take Tyler on a little distraction tour of Seattle. Be obvious, but have a hell of a lot of back up, too. That way if Fuj has delegated Tyler's progress to someone else, we thin his heard, if he wants to drop the hammer on us himself we could get him. Alternately if he keeps his Greenswag appointment we can get him there too. The only drawback, Crane, is that you might not get to be the one who nails him."

"Or we could miscalculate the whole operation, lose and wide up dead," interjected the ever cheerful elf.

Dallas stared for a moment then laughed, "Dying in bed would be so dull, Crane."

"Not if there is someone with you," he muttered. He glanced speculatively at Spyder, "So can we get the rigger right fraggin' now?"

"I'll call Lily right away if there are no serious objections, get you guys your rigger and us a great long Tiger tail. We just have to make the decision, guys, time's running out."

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Friday, May 03, 2002 - 10:08 am:

Lily Bao was relieved to recieve Dallas' call, "Nothing like waiting until the last minute," she groused as she quickly called up available resources on her palm unit.

"Didn't I tell you? We make this stuff up as we go."

She smiled, "You're not kidding are you?"

"Mmm, only a little. Our plans seems to get cobbled together on the fly more often than not. If we were smart and meticulous, Mr. F. would have been taking a dirt snooze long before now," sighed Dallas.

"Well, our organisation kind of fell down on disposal of undesirables too, so its an epidemic problem....Got some one for you," she said as the information popped up, "Dunstan Po. He's the best we can offer, and his vehicle is army surplus, so your security worries are covered. Its about as covered as you can be if you're not inside a bunker."

"Sounds like our man. When can he be here?"

"Same time as I arrive with part two of your little plan. We can't cover you if we can't trace you."

"True."

There was a pause, "No objections? No male chest thumping?"

Dallas chuckled, "No. Did you want me to? I know you know who the leads in this performance are going to be, plus, I've seen you in action, you trained with the Tigers, you know what you're getting into, I believe you can handle yourself."

Lily had no response, "Well....we'll be along in about fifteen minutes - after I mobilize our end. As per your request Dunstan will stay outside and the elves will have to come out to meet him. I'll make introductions and get them on their way, then meet you and Dawson inside for part two. Okay?"

"Okay. Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Watch your back. It's a beautiful back, lots of folks might be interested in it."

"That goes without saying. I'll see you soon," she smiled and broke the connection.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Sunday, June 02, 2002 - 01:04 pm:

Lily was as good as her word. Dallas received word within fifteen minutes that she and the promised rigger were about to arrive outside.

"How do we get out without Tyler wanting to tag along," asked Spyder, "He's still down there doing chin-ups or some fraggin' thing."

In answer Dawson opened the apartment door and called down to the garage floor, "Tyler!" he barked, "We're moving out, come up and shower off."

He shut the door to forestall any response form Tyler and grinned at Spyder, "Sometimes the simplest plans are the best plans."

She rolled her eyes, "Gee whiz Mr Dawson, with you planning our next move I have no fear," she said in an annoyingly cutsie voice

The door opened and Tyler entered, "Where are we going?"

"We're moving out. Can't stay in one place too long."

That's not answering the question."

Wasn't meant to."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, "All right," said Tyler at last, and headed for the bathroom with a last sidelong glance at Spyder.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Dallas opened up the front door for the elves, "Lily is in a vehicle half a block south on the other side of the street. She'll make the introductions with the rigger, then you guys get moving. Watch your backs and keep your powder dry," he grinned.

Crane grinned back and clapped the young Cheyenne on the shoulder in passing, "Of course. A good day's work and we'll have a nice mixed Fujiyama salad at the first tee by evening."

He clattered down the stairs whistling merrily if tunelessly. Spyder picked up her gear, "You guys watch your butts too. I don't want to have to read another report of your deaths."

"The report of our deaths was greatly exaggerated," Dallas and Dawson said almost in unison.

Spyder snorted delicately and followed Crane down the stairs.

Dawson checked the time, "Ready for our phase of the operation?" he smiled, enjoying himself.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Friday, July 19, 2002 - 11:00 am:

The cloud cover over Seattle was thinning and patchy, there was no rain, nor did it look like any was expected. The sun played a coy peek-a-boo game promising an outstanding sunset.

Amos Li watched Lily and the rigger, Po, leave the compound. They were followed shortly by two teams who comprised of the best the White Tigers had to offer - and that meant they were very good indeed, thought Amos with some pride, then summoned his own driver. The Nightsky, an unusual deep blue rather than the standard black, pulled around to the side door. Amos seldom used the front entrance.

The driver, a well dressed ork youth, leaped out of the car and opened the back door for his boss, "Where too Mr. Li?"

Amos slid into the car and the driver slammed his door and sprinted to the driver's seat without waiting for an answer he knew he'd get when Amos chose to give it to him.

"I have a meeting, Mickey, " said Amos, "Please take your direction from the incoming call."

As promised, the car phone buzzed just as Mickey jacked into the car's system. Amos leaned back and stared out the window as the cityscape began to slip by. He had set the protocols for this meeting in motion days ago. He found it interesting that the terms had been finalized only an hour before young Mr Whitecrow had called his niece with his proposal. It appeared things were coming to a head. The workings of the fates were intricate and wonderful to behold.

The car stopped and Mickey raced to open Amos' door - but then everything Mickey did outside of his chosen environment behind a vehicle control rig seemed to take place with unseemly haste. Amos stepped on to the red runner that ran from the curb to the door. His chase car with four senior White Tigers within pulled into a spot across the street. The rules of the meeting specified no soldiers inside.

He glanced at the embroidered awning and smiled - Paolo's. What better place for the Hong leader and the Yakuza oyabun to meet than in Seattle's best Brazilian restaurant.

By Vengence is Mine (Knight_Hawk) on Sunday, July 21, 2002 - 01:56 pm:

Tyler went into the bathroom and began to run the water so the others would think he was showering. As the steam began to rise he began to feel dizzy.

He began to see images of friends and family in large cyanders surrounded by some kind of liquid. He then relized he was seeing them from within another cylinder.

Tyler shook his head trying to get rid of the image. As he did so a new image appeared that of Meiko Ishidora, she seemed to be useing a computer terminal in a lab. The image faded away as quickly as it had appeared.

With a jolt Tyler saw Dawsons face and felt as if there were somehting he was supposed to do to him. No, not to him but for him.

Tyler thought he had had all of his memmories back, but now he truly did. He was supposed to protect Ray Dawson. He cleared his head and and turned off the water. Walking forward Tyler opened the door and prepared to face Dawson, now was the time to tell him everything.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Wednesday, August 28, 2002 - 04:28 pm:

John Fujiyama glanced at the time. It was well past the dinner hour, and he had not noticed it pass. He scowled at the report before him. He had decided an overview of all the events that had occurred since Chou Sun Di had first arrived to complicate his life was in order. The web of people the Golden Dragon's plan had ensnared since its inception, for good or ill, made quite a vast catalogue indeed. Perhaps that was why the reports of the failure to eliminate the Indian at the Eight Immortals and again at the garage had not been given the notice they should have been given. That appalling youth, Dallas Ree - and his people STILL could not confirm if that was his real name or not - had had a meeting in the Immortals, one of the three restaurants owned by Amos Li. The attack on the Indian and his presumed contact had been foiled, the report claimed, by operatives of the White Tigers organization.

Fujiyama paced as he considered, perhaps the Indian and the atrocious gaijin Dawson could not be found because they had struck a bargain for asylum with Li's people…Li and what remained of the Hong had often been a thorn in Fujiyama's side….

He paced the sumptuous office, blind to its comforts. Perhaps a strike against Li was in order. He had utilized the local yakuza for similar projects before, and Li was on the list for elimination in any case… it should be easy to start a war in the International District, and any Hong destroyed wold be all to the good. The fear factor such a war would produce would make the district far more malleable as well, lending itself to his plans for control of the region….

He sat at his desk and placed a call, he would unleash his neo-ninja on Li's people and would arrange for yakuza support in his incipient war. If things worked according to plan, by week's end, no White Tiger could walk from door to curb without the real possibility of acquiring a bullet in the brain. Fujiyama smiled grimly, if his enemy had gone to ground in the forest, then he would surely burn the forest down around them.

He shut off the view screen and ordered dinner.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Thursday, August 29, 2002 - 03:01 pm:

For Dallas, Tyler was just an annoyance to be gotten around. A potentially lethal annoyance, but in essence just a really big, cybernetically enhanced gnat none the less. He wanted the annoyance gone, and was less than thrilled by Dawson's vague idea about turning the cyborg back on its master. It was only a little better that they were using him/it for this diversion to keep the elves out of the line of immediate fire. He really saw no compelling reason not to go along with Crane's rather more definitive plan for termination of all annoyances. He glanced at the bedroom door from his perch on the arm of the sofa. Lily sat beside him on the seat cushions as he loaded his boot sheaths and pulled his boots on.

"Exactly how many knives do you usually carry?" she asked curiously.

"Usually between four and seven depending on what I'll be doing and how obviously armed I want to appear. As a bodyguard, sometimes the only deterrent I need is a bit of show."

"And as a bodyguard you'd take a bullet for your client?"

Dallas regarded her levelly, "I would prefer that the bad guys be at the receiving end of any bullet, but yeah, that's the job. My body protects their body. But my body is very good at what it does, too."

Lily returned his look, any response she might have had was interrupted by Dawson's return from the bedroom, as he too, pulled on holsters, and checked weapons.

"So how long does this guy usually take to shower?"

"I never signed on as his valet," growled Dawson.

"Water just shut off," commented Dallas as he retrieved his jacket.

Dawson was used to Dallas' enhanced abilities, but Lily gave him another thoughtful look. Tyler emerged, still sweaty and unwashed.

"You missed the shower by a foot or more there, Tyler," Dawson informed him. When the cyborg opened his mouth, Dawson shook his head and headed for the door, "Not now. We've got places to go, people to kill…."

Dawson was already halfway down the stairs before Tyler noticed the tiny Asian woman at the Indian's side, then they, too, were out the door and heading for the truck. It was either follow or be left behind.

Dawson was in the driver's seat, Dallas and Lily climbing up on the passenger side, which left the back - by design - for Tyler. He would have a harder time viewing detail to transmit to Fujiyama from the windowless rear of the truck. He did not look happy. The garage doors opened, and Dawson, after checking to make sure Tyler still wasn't settled, screeched through the only partially open doors. Tyler didn't tumble, but he dropped in a seat after grabbing for a hand hold. Again, the plan was to keep as many details, particularly this hideouts exterior, from being transmitted to the enemy camp. If that meant keeping the cyborg as off balance as possible, so be it. When they were ready, then they'd let Tyler see what they wanted him/them to see.

"Who's the girl?" asked Tyler after a minute.

Dallas and Lily, both decked out in tinted glasses, turned to regard him as one, "What girl?" inquired the Indian, dead pan, then turned back. Lily arched her eyebrow at him then she too faced forward. Tyler definitely did not look happy.

Lily surreptitiously reached for a small unit from in her coat pocket and signaled the veritable platoon of White Tiger riggers that had, or soon would have them under surveillance. Drones could be such handy little tools.

"There was a wise Lakota woman at the battle of the Greasy Grass," said Dallas conversationally, "who told the soldier on the ground before her, 'If you did not want to be killed, why did you not stay home where you belong and not come to attack us?'"

"Did she kill him?"

Dallas offered a feral grin, "You don't want to know how bad."

"So the lesson is?" asked Dawson playing along.

Dallas lowered his glasses to peer over them, and looked at Dawson in an exaggerated condescending manner, "Don't attack us if you don't want to end up with a spike through your nuts."

"Ohhh," said Dawson shifting in his seat, "You're right, I don't want to know how bad."

Lily stifled a laugh. Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to Tyler.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Friday, October 18, 2002 - 04:54 pm:

The truck stopped at the long light at Broad and Aurora where a distinctive billboard for Instmata Soy Meal had become a sprawl landmark. It had been agreed to use it as a marker for Fujiyama - if his minions picked up their trail after they let Tyler see it, than the cyborg was just what they thought he was, and they could play their hand accordingly.

"Hey, look out the rear window and see if you can spot if we've picked up any baggage," Dawson instructed Tyler unsubtly.

Amused by the man's tactics, Lily crossed her eyes at Dallas who did his best to ignore both of them.

You've got mirrors, and I assume a few skills," returned Tyler unhelpfully.

Dawson used the said mirror to give Tyler a glare, "But I have to drive in downtown traffic - you have nothing else to do and can give the task your undivided attention," he explained as if to a child.

Tyler frowned, but did as he was asked and practically pressed his face against the tiny window on the back door. The garish green and purple neons of the billboard filled his perception for a moment before traffic started to move again. Tyler stayed at his post and on watch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The police officer on duty looked up as his terminal sounded a tone announcing an incoming inquiry had been processed. He called up the file and consciously had to stop his jaw from dropping open.

He hesitated a moment, then rounded up all the files related to the query and isolated them on his machine. He then initiated a trace to determine from where the original request was launched.

He read what there was - a Renraku security contractor had sent out a blanket probe to all NAN law enforcement agencies asking for AKA files and physical match-ups on a subject, photo attached. They had a pretty good full face shot that looked like it had been cropped from an ID. It was an Amerind youth, 18-24 years old, the name given was Ree. The officer smiled faintly, Ree was generally a Navajo name - it meant little to the AMCPD computers which had spat out any perp named Ree ever arrested in the Council lands. There weren't many and those found were round faced Athabascans who bore no resemblance to the sculpted features of the subjects face.

The physical match-up had more success, however, AMCPD files had pulled up a license application that included a shot that was markedly similar to the subject of the query. The face was a couple of years younger but almost certainly the same man - Dallas Whitecrow.

The officer rubbed his jaw and thought for a moment. He decided to sit on the results until his trace had run its course. After all, AMCPD file information was not something to be handed out like government cheese. He save the whole thing to CD, dropped it in a file, then purged every shadow of the inquiries existence from the network - irregular perhaps, but not illegal.

"Hey, Whitecrow!"

The officer looked up.

"Want to get some grub?"

Rayford Whitecrow locked his desk and rose, "Sure, Tahpeta, Mexican or Italian?"

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Monday, October 21, 2002 - 12:08 pm:

"Sir," said the elegant female voice, "I am sorry to interrupt you, but you have a call on the emergency line. You said to report immediately if that line ever--"

"Yes, I know what I ordered. Thank you, Meiko, patch them through," Fujiyama said as he dismissed the three naked girls who had been massaging him. He pulled a thick robe about his well-toned and heavily tattooed body and strode to his desk to flip on the vidphone. "What is it?"

"Sir! Targets are on the move. We have received a positive visual trace from unit number 8. He appears to be in the back of a van with 3 individuals in the forward cab, moving East on Broad St. in the vicinity of Aurora Ave."

John Fujiyama allowed a smile to sweep across his handsome asian face before issuing his orders. "Activate all primary teams and have them track the van. I want to know where they are going. I also want a visual confirmation of targets before elimination. If it is Dawson and company, eliminate them with extreme prejudice. Do not strike without proper force--these adversaries are capable and are to be respected as warriors. I know you will not fail me, Yinlan." The face on the vidphone bowed as the picture went blank, and Fujiyama leaned back in his executive chair, steepling his fingers below his chin. Glancing up, he noticed the three massage girls, pensively eyeing him from the corner of his palatial offices. He pointed at the middle one and waved her to him at the desk. When she got there, he simply loosened the sash on his robe, and she obediently knelt under the desk in front of him. He pressed the button on his intercom unit again, saying "Meiko, cancel all my calls for the day. Something has come up."

"Sir, I humbly remind you that you have a meeting today at Greenswag with the head of Eastern Operations."

Fujiyama stroked his chin in thought. Yinlan said there had been 3 others in the van with #8. As far as he knew, there were 4 members of that group. It was possible this group was attempting to set up an ambush, using the van as bait. Fujiyama smiled again, losing himself in the ministrations of his 'massage girl' when Meiko's voice shook him from his trance. "Sir?"

"Yes," Fujiyama cleared his throat, "send DuPree to the meeting. As I said, something much more urgent has come up."

"As you wish sir," Meiko replied before making arrangements for DuPree to take the meeting at Greenswag. Something very important indeed must have arisen for him to send his genetically engineered body-double to this very important meeting at Greenswag...

By Vengence is Mine (Knight_Hawk) on Monday, October 21, 2002 - 07:45 pm:

Meiko quietly left her desk and headed to the bathroom after making the arrangments Fuijiama had told her to. She went in and pulled out a small jamming device so that no one could see or hear what she was about to do.

She plugged herself into her deck and searched for the trace program she had installed in Tylers 'treatments'. It was a way she could warn him and not be found out at the same time, she only hoped that the program was working. She located the trace and connected to it to leave a message.

"Fujiama is sending forces to ambush you be ready. Watch for the Rogue."

Two minutes later she flushed the toilet and left the room turning off the jammer. She sat at her desk and waited for Fujiama's next instructions.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Wednesday, January 22, 2003 - 03:40 pm:

Crane inched along on his elbows and knees, carelessly towing a sack of high explosives behind him – the small satchel that held the detonators and such he had tucked into his inside pocket. When he spoke it was sub-vocally over the comm with Spyder who was ensconced in the rigger van, “I am now moving forward, the surface here is vintage ferrocrete, dandy for conduits and other subterranean construction.”

“You can shut up now,” invited Spyder over the link.

“And you said you wanted to know what I was doing.”

She made a rude noise, “I want to know how Dallas and Ray are doing playing target right now so we can get this done. What if they need back up?”

“That’s what the White Tigers are for,” he explained again through gritted teeth. Damn, keeping her safe was a pain in the ass. He stopped moving and examined the little cul de sac he found himself in.

“I’m in place,” he informed her, digging out the wireless camera she’d supplied, “And you know I wouldn’t get my knickers in a twist over the adventures of the Dynamic Duo. This kind of drek is their bread and butter,” but not yours, he finished silently.

“But there are a lot of variables,” she began.

“Job at hand,” he snapped as he flipped the little camera on. His flashlight-illumined face came into focus on Spyder’s monitor, and he glared at the lens as if he could see her, “We have a job to do right here so mind it.”

Spyder was torn between irritation that he was right and the fact the she felt chastened about it. She turned her whole attention to the job. She watched Crane settle cross-legged in his bunker and set about retrieving all his implements of destruction. He was in serious work mode, it suddenly struck her how similar it was to Dallas’ impenetrable, emotionless working mask – funny.

She ran another check on the club security and it continued to believe everything was as it should be. She would keep the security quiescent, but since that was pretty much a no brainer, she decided to go hunting. She accessed the manager’s office and ran through his daily logs.

Hmmm, looked like Bedouin Day tomorrow. The menu included humus and tahini, roasted goat, saffron rice, fermented milk, gad what’s that taste like? She skimmed through the tee times – Renraku money had actually paid for two bookings for the following day. One was probably a junior exec since he had got the 7am tee time and his name was listed. The other entry under Renraku just listed a 1 pm tee off…but the party had been reduced from six players to four and that change had been made just about an hour ago. Why?

She scanned every piece of info the manager had - his security encryption was like opening a jar – all you needed to know was which way to turn. Hardly anything to sweat her, but there was no reason given for the change and she didn’t like it. Perhaps she should dig a little deeper.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Friday, February 21, 2003 - 02:15 pm:

Before the noise of the contact had died, Lily pulled out a slim hand held and flipped open a tiny screen. The picture resolved into an aerial view of their van.

“What did you hit, Dawson?” demanded Tyler.

“The fan. No wait, I think it would be preferable to be the fan in this case and say the drek hit us,” he said as he cranked the wheel hard in order to enter the park.

Dallas peered over Lily’s shoulder, watching the screen as a small insectoid
drone sank a cutter into the roof just behind the cab, “Ray, must go faster,” he said dead pan.

Any reply his partner may have made was drowned out by the screech of tortured metal as the cutter began its work. Tyler’s head snapped up as he judged the entry point. He positioned himself directly below the can opener.

Then two more thuds echoed through the van and two armed drones appeared on Lily’s surveillance screen.

“Where are our tick birds?”

“They’re coming,” said Lily tensely.

Ray swept toward the pond and slewed to a halt outside the boathouse as planned. A new drone dropped on one of the armed intruders and attacked it, using articulated limbs to rip the gun ports apart and strew broken debris across the sidewalk below. The second armed drone turned and fired at the newcomer, while the can opener mindlessly continued its task.

“Time to bail, kids,” called Dawson, “’Cause the fight is coming to us.”

By Vengence is Mine (Knight_Hawk) on Friday, February 28, 2003 - 04:08 pm:

As Dawson and the others dove out of the van Tyler brought his arm up and slammed it into the roof of the van at the same moment he popped his cyberspur. The one-foot blade tore through the metal of the roof and pierced the second combat drone. It squealed as the blade cut its integral internal components rendering it inoperable.

Dawson it the ground in a roll and came up in a crouch his left shoulder in pain where it had hit the pavement. “Probably dislocated.” he thought to himself as he drew his weapon and looked for targets. He saw the van hit something and begin to rise off the ground.

Dallas had grabbed Lilly and dove out the side to shield her when they hit the ground, he knew he didn’t have to but he couldn’t resist the chase to look chivalrous. Both had their weapons drawn as soon as they came to a stop and were looking as a man stepped in front of the van. To their amazement he lifted the van off the ground and slammed it into the building next to him. He shrugged off the blast that came from the van as it exploded.

All three were sure that Tyler had not gotten out before the van was destroyed. The man that had destroyed the vehicle now popped a set off cyberclaws and seemed to wait staring into the fire. As if on cue they saw a figure walk out of the fire burning and glowing green. The red tinted cyberspur was unmistakable as they realized that Tyler had survived and was now walking away from the wreckage and heading for the man.

As the men squared off Tyler looked at Dawson and in a guttural voice said, “Go, I’ll handle this.”

Dawson needed only a split second to think before he jumped into the nearest vehicle with Dallas and Lilly close behind. “What do we do now man, are you really gonna let him go?” Dallas asked as Dawson got the car running and slammed down on the accelerator.

“Dallas I don’t know what Fuji did to him but nothing should have survived that.” Dawson said.

“Uh, guys we gotta go faster.” Lilly said looking as new Drones appeared on her screen.

******

Fujiama was beside himself as he watched the two cyborgs faced each other, he had never dreamed that his pets would be able to withstand what number eight had. “I must get more, all based on this one.” He mused.

He watched as the two began to circle, each made quick jabs at the other looking for an opening in the others defense. While the Rogue was twice the size of number eight the nanotechnology in his boy was not as sophisticated as his adversaries. This would indeed be an interesting fight to watch. His thoughts were interupted as the phone rang next to him.

“Yes?” He said.

“Sir, DuPree is almost at the destination.” The voice said.

“Thank you.” He said as he sat back to watch the fight. Of course should number eight actually win the Drones would attack and finish him off. As for Dawson and Dallas they were now being pursued and it was only a matter of time before they were taken out as well.

He was very surprised when someone else’s robots had attacked his Drones, however seeing as the two were now involved with the White Tigers it really wasn’t that much of a surprise after all. It was only a matter of time before they were all dead; he only had to be patient.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Wednesday, April 23, 2003 - 04:43 pm:

Dawson carefully tested his arm and found it to be in good working order if overextended from the awkward landing the lurching truck had forced on him. He swung the car in a huge circle and paused as Dallas and Lily bailed and dove into the second car Amos Li had placed for them. The two cars roared out of the park in overlapping serpentines. The plan was to stay with in blocks of one another – far enough apart to divide Fujiyama’s forces and allow the White Tiger drones the chance to chew them up piece meal. As Dallas peeled away from Dawson the plan seemed to be working, Lily reported that roughly half of the verifiable enemy drones were in pursuit.

“Joy,” muttered Dallas as one of the little buggers opened fire on their vehicle, “How’s your kite tail, Ray?”

Dawson’s voice crackled in his ear, “Just dandy. Of course I don’t have my moll along to let me know when our drones eat their drones.”

Dallas grinned wolfishly, “That’s because I’m far more appealing to molls than you, bro,” he swung sharply around a corner passing one block south of Dawson’s location.

A shower of debris hit the pavement just behind their car, “Was that theirs or ours, Lily?”

“Theirs, but they disabled one of ours on Dawson.”

“Did you get that partner?”

“Got it. Lucky I’m such a dazzlingly skillful driver. When do you want to lead these guys to the slaughter?”

“As soon as we think we’ve got all he’s going to throw at us. The more drones we take out, the more soldiers he’s going to have to pitch in.”

“Oh goody, another ten blocks of catch me if you can,” said Dawson over the sound of automatic fire.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Amos Li watched the attack force pull up outside his Wu Xing Spa even as he listened to the on going reports from his men under Lily’s command. He had expected the Fujiyama to target the White Tiger organization as soon as he had gotten the report of the failed hit outside the Eight Immortals.

A dozen or more Golden Dragon hit the Wu Xing guns blazing, only to be met with the consolidated firepower of the united forces of Li’s White Tigers and Tsuyoshi Asako’s Kabuki Mono. The meeting with the Yakuza oyabun had gone far better than even Li could have hoped. The other two District Hongs were being held in reserve should the united front at Wu Xing fall. Li did not expect to have to call on them….

By I, (Ranger) on Wednesday, October 01, 2003 - 04:08 pm:

The door to the van thumped flatly as Crane rapped on it. Spyder pushed a button and the door slid open. It was a nifty gadget but did not allow for emergencies. There was, according to the rigger no way of opening it from the outside. She doubted that – there was probably a remote somewhere that would do the job, its just no one gave one to them.

“All set for a senseless act of violence by 1:03 pm,” said Crane rather smugly.

“Uh-huh. Look what I found,” she said barely looking up. “Fuj origionally planned a six member party. Every time he comes here it’s a six member party. Every single time. Fuj, his present favorite, a pair of guests and two hulks from security. Just before closing up shop at midnight, the manager here changed the reservation. The hulks have been recalled and its just the foursome.”

“So. We know where the soldiers are being sent.”
She looked doubtful, “He didn’t reduce his personal security to throw extra bodies at Gutierrez after that little war he started at Aztech three years ago. Why would he do so now.”

Crane started to shrug unconcern when his expression froze, “Who are the gusets?” he asked woodenly.

She checked, “Fipps and Tau out of Renraku Hong Kong. The present toady is a guy called Jimmu.”

“Any stellars?”

“Nope just guys. Two of an infinite array of Renraku VPs worldwide.”

“So if they go bye-bye no one but their mums will care.”

“In theory.”

“No goons means no Fujiyama, I’ll wager.”

“His name is still down.”

Crane waved away her reassurance irritably, “Frag! I bloody wasted an hour and some fine ordinance and he won’t even be here.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“For sure? Possibly not. But its even money. Frag, frag, frag. Where else would the wanker go?”

“Witness to history,” muttered Spyder thoughtfully.

“What?”

“He’ll want to be in at the kill.”

Crane exploded into motion, “Get on the line, tell them not to blow all of the drones we’ll need a couple to triangulate from. We’ll track the fragger down.”

“And if he shows up here?”

“That’s why the cameras are in place - we look. If the bugger in the first tee looks enough like him to be his third cousin we’ll still blow it.”

“Ruthless bastard.”

“Well of course.”

By I, (Ranger) on Saturday, December 13, 2003 - 04:17 pm:

"What the frag?"

"I said Crane wants you to make sure and save a couple of Fuj's drones." crackled Spyder's voice over the link.

Dallas spared a harried glance at Lily. "Save some drones? Are you deranged?"

"No. Listen, he may be using this location as a feint. He may be in your ballpark."

Lily banged her head against the dashboard.

"Break. Did you copy direct Ray?"

"Frag, yeah. How many fraggers do we have left Lil?"

She sat up an pushed her hair out of her eyes, "Enough so that saving a couple for the Banger twins won't be a problem," she said grimly."

"Well, I'm running out of road a little less quickly than I'm running out of patience," came Dawson's voice. "One way or another we have to bring this thing to a head. We're not going to get a second shot."

"Lets bring 'em in," agreed Dallas.

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Wednesday, May 26, 2004 - 10:16 am:

Dawson swerved around another group of cars stopped at an intersection, keeping an eye on his pursuit drones as well as Dallas and Lily. Glancing down, he saw the gas gauge hovering on empty.

"Drek. Just what I need now," he muttered. Glancing around quickly, he spotted a few likely candidates. "I can't stay with you guys. I'll see you kids at the ball. Don't start the party without me."

"Where the hell you think you're going?" Dallas responded, gritting his teeth as another drone exploded much too close to his speeding car.

"Just meet me later, and keep going!" Ray shouted over the screeching tires and honking horns of several irate drivers. Yet another drone sank its claws into the roof of his car, and he nonchalantly put the muzzle of his predator to the ceiling and squeezed a round off. The drone fell away and rattled off the trunk, and Ray replaced his gun with a satisfied smirk. "And remember, reports of my death are greatly exaggerated," he said as he eased his stolen car into oncoming traffic at the next major intersection.

"What are you doing, Ray?" Dallas asked, answered only by static. Despite his better judgement, Dallas actually felt a hollow lump in his chest at about heart level when he saw the explosion in his rearview mirror...

By I, (Ranger) on Friday, May 28, 2004 - 02:48 pm:

“What was that?” squawked Lily swiveling in her seat despite the view screen in her hand. She peered anxiously out the rear window even as Dallas whipped around a corner and the fireball disappeared from view.

“What’s Ray doing?”

“Playing cowboy,” said Dallas through gritted teeth.

“They can’t have got his gas tank…” she said doubtfully.

“Maybe, maybe not. But something happened to make him bail out. He would not have left the car if he thought he could pull it out.”

“So you think he’s okay?”

Dallas scowled, “Of course he’s okay. Ray Dawson blows up cars as regularly as other people blow their noses.

The car rocked on its wheels as another drone slammed into it from the passenger side. Lily swore and returned her attention to their own problems. It appeared Ray’s fireball only took out about two-thirds of his share of the mechanical pests. The third left at loose ends was converging on them.

“Turn!”

Dallas obeyed with no time to spare. The car lifted on to two wheels as it mad the shrieking directional shift. Two of the drones couldn’t make it and smashed into the corner of the Commerce Bank as Dallas roared past practically on their sidewalk.

Another fifteen blocks to the Wu Xing. Without Dawson, their arrival might be a little more action packed than they had anticipated.

By Vengence is Mine (Knight_Hawk) on Tuesday, June 01, 2004 - 01:27 pm:

Tylor stared at the man in front of him trying to get a feeling as to what he was capable of. Obviously he was augmented if he could lift the van up and toss it and also survive the resulting blast. What had Tylor puzzled though was why he was here attacking now.

“I am the Rogue. Mr. Fujiyama sends his regards and hopes that you will put on a good show before you die.” The man said in answer to Tylor’s unspoken question. “Oh, and don’t worry about your friends they’ll all die soon enough.”

“I think you underestimate them and me Rogue.” Tylor added as much disdain in his voice as he could when he spoke the name. He hoped to get the man angry enough that he would make mistakes. “They have no plans on dying today and I WILL take you with me.”

The Rogue laughed at Tylor’s remarks like and adult would after being told he was going to be beaten up by a three year old. “Believe what you like Tylor but you will die and I will see to your friends’ destruction personally. I think I’ll leave the red head for last. What do you think; show her what a REAL man can do.”

Tylor snorted. “Do what you like, they mean nothing to me. They are a means to an end; and if everything goes right it will be Fujiyama’s end. Now I’d really love to stand here and match wits but I hate taking on unarmed opponents.”

The Rogue’s smile started to fade as he realized that he would not be able to get to Tylor in this manner. “Well then I’ll just kill you and get started on killing them.” The Rogue lunged suddenly at Tylor swinging his claws at his midsection trying to disembowel him.

Tylor was expecting this easily dodging out of the way and bringing his spur around towards his opponent’s neck. The Rogue let himself fall forward rolling with Tylor’s attack narrowly avoiding getting his head cut off. He rolled to his feet and sprung again at Tylor, his arms out stretched in an attempt to sink both claws into the other mans chest. The Rogue knew Tylor had a reach advantage with his single spur so he’d have to keep moving, for some reason Tylor had yet to extend the spur Fujiyama’s doctors had replaced. He’d have to use this fact to his advantage to end this quickly.

Tylor saw the attack coming a split second before the claws sank into his chest. His body screamed out as the pain reached his brain. He kicked out at the Rogue to get away and nearly fainted at the pain from the blades sliding out of the wounds. The Rogue smiled in triumph as Tylor sank to his knees and groaned from the pain. He knew he didn’t have much time before the wounds healed so he brought his arms up to sever Tylor’s head from his body.

The pain in Tylor’s chest began to fade as the wounds were healed by the nanites; it was at this moment that he realized two things. First that the Rogue was making his move to finish the fight, and two, that no matter the outcome neither of them could survive. If the Rogue survived he could return to Fujiyama and protect him from the others or allow himself to be studied by the highest bidder. It had to end and it had to end right here with the two of them dead.

The Rogue brought his arm down as hard as he could aiming for Tylor’s neck but missed as Tylor twisted out of the way at the last second. A red haze was beginning to obscure the Rogues vision as he slipped farther and farther into his rage. The effect was only intensified when he felt the pain of a weapon slide through his ribs puncturing one of his lungs, apparently Tylor wasn’t as hurt as he had let on, he roared as Tylor withdrew his blade and turned to face him as the nanites boosted his body’s adrenaline output. Tylor was shocked to still see the man standing after that attack until he saw the green glow of the wound. His own wound would have been worse if not for the dermal plating he’d had installed awhile back.

The Rogue was now little more than an animal running on instinct and that was telling him to rip the smaller man apart. To that end he began swinging his arms wildly from side to side. Tylor was able to dodge many of the clumsy attacks but many still landed cutting deeply into his flesh. The pain was blinding as more and more wounds appeared on his body and blood began to flow freely from his body. Tylor began to get light headed as the blood loss increased causing him to see double and start to stagger.

Tylor’s arms were going numb but he could feel the cuts continuing to happen some going straight to the bone. He couldn’t concentrate, he had lost, and it was going to end here and all because he had failed. Visions began to fill his head; his mother, Blaze, Samson, Spyder, that damned Crane, Dallas, Dawson, and finally Meiko.

The vision of Blaze returned her arms wide; “It’s alright Tylor we forgive you. You’ve done your best, don’t be ashamed about that. Tylor we’ve waited for you for so long come join us and make our family complete again.”

“But what of those I’ve sworn to protect now?”

“He doesn’t need it. He never did, he can take care of himself and he has others that he trusts.” Blaze said. She looked at Tylor and in her eyes he saw the love that they had once shared. “Please Tylor come with us, leave your worries behind you and be with me.”

Tylor was silent for a moment. “NO!” He shouted out snapping himself back to the present and grabbed one of the Rogues arms. He brought his spur down on cutting the arm off at the Elbow. “I…AM…NOT…BEATEN…YET!”

The Rogue screamed in pain and dropped to his knees cradling the stump that remained of his right arm. He began to snarl and foam at the mouth as he prepared to lunge at Tylor again. He never got the chance because Tylor had redirected his arm and swung backwards taking the Rogues head off.

Tylor fell to his knees gasping for breath, his vision once again getting blurry as the effects of his adrenaline wore off. The image of Meiko appeared before him as he sank into the blackness of oblivion.

“Tylor? Tylor can you hear me? Tylor you have to get word to the others. You have to tell them that if they want to get Fujiyama they have to lock onto frequency 278.998 megahertz. Tylor? Tylor if you can hear me I’m ready to get out of here, I’ll be waiting for you. Tylor I love you.”

Tylor took a deep breath and switched on the headset Dawson had handed him, he only hoped he had a working one. “Dawson? Dawson it’s Tylor. Dawson if you can hear me find Fujiyama…Track Fujiyama with frequency 278…” Tylor trailed off as the blackness encroached on him. “I love you Blaze…I’m coming to join you at last.”

Tylor slipped in to the peaceful bliss of eternal slumber barely registering the sound of sirens approaching him and Dawson’s voice calling over the headset.

--

Fujiyama was pleased, while the death of the Rogue was unfortunate he was still happy with the death of number 8. He had dispatched a group to retrieve both bodies and bring them back for study and possible cloning. He was now able to switch his full attention to the final end of Dallas and Dawson as well as any of their annoying comrades that still remained.

--

Meiko Ishidora waited nervously at the arcology for any sign of Tylor. She had sent him her message some time ago and there was still no sign of him. She was beginning to worry that he may have not gotten her message or worse that he was unable to get to her.

No she was being silly; of course Tylor was alright he had just been delayed that was all. Any minute now he was going to pull up and get her out of here. She smiled to herself try to imagine what life would be like with him. Meiko stood where she was engrossed with her thoughts never sensing the presence behind her.

“Fujiyama-san sends his regards and thanks you for being a loyal and must trusting puppet.” A mans voice said. Meiko never turned around; she never saw who it was that attacked her. She didn’t need to know, all she knew was that Tylor was coming for her and she would not be there. Meiko fell forward from the force of the bullet hitting her in the back and was dead before her body even hit the ground.

By I, (Ranger) on Thursday, July 15, 2004 - 12:25 pm:

Dunstan wheeled the van around the corner in a maneuver Crane found to be nerve screamingly sedate.

“There’s a bit of a hurry up factor involved,” he grated at the rigger.

“It can be fast or it can be thorough. You want a scan for drones, don’t you?” asked Dunstan with tortoise like zippy-ness.

Crane clutched fistfuls of his hair. “All of the drones we are interested in are shooting at a little green car with your bosses niece inside of it!”

“The just crossed the avenue into the International District,” supplied Spyder. “Four blocks until they hit Omaha Beach.”

Crane made an inarticulate sound of frustration. The van swerved suddenly, throwing the elf back in his seat.

“Car fire on Conway,” explained Dunstan.

“Well, at least we’re on the right track,” growled Crane.


As the windshield exploded, Dallas slammed on the breaks and twisted across Lily in order shield her from the flying glass nuggets. He’d just as soon she kept her face as it was.

The patter of glass on his back was still falling even as he stomped on the accelerator again. The car took off, clipping the curb before Dallas took the wheel again.

“Thanks,” said Lily shaking the glass from her hair, “We’ve got one climbing up our butts now, though.”

A fusillade hit the back of the car even as Dallas jerked the wheel. The jumped the curb and careened off a large cement tree planter. The dead tree within fell, crushing the attacking drone.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Anything to impress the girl,” Dallas grinned.

The car screeched between tow parked cars and thumped onto the roadway. A tortured rear tire exploded and Dallas was forced to wrestle the wheel back under control.

Lily snatched up Dallas’ Roomseweeper and blew apart a skimmer that had been audacious enough to hang off their quarter panel. “One more block.”

“Is Amos ready for us?”

Lily adjusted her earpiece and loosed a barrage of Cantonese.

“He’s ready. Wu Xing is under fire, but the plan is all set.

“Rude of Fuj to jump the gun like that.”

“He probably has poor table manners, too,” said Lily tightly.

Another tire blew as the car continued to take abuse. Dallas ignored the damage, intent on making the rendezvous while he still had a scrap of car between them and the enemy.

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Friday, July 16, 2004 - 03:49 pm:

Dallas nearly pushed the gas pedal through the floorboard, not even bothering with the horn anymore. Anybody foolish enough to remain in the street at this point would be unfortunate collateral damage. Most of the nearby cars had already swerved off the street anyway, making Dallas and Lily's little green car an even more obvious target for Fujiyama's drones. Dallas grit his teeth in concentration as he narrowly avoided the ass-end of a garbage truck as it backed into the main street from an alley, barely managing to wrestle the badly damaged car back under control before skidding into a pickup truck on the other side of the street. Just as he managed to regain control, an 8-legged drone resembling a mechanical scorpion landed on the hood with a metallic-sounding >CHUNK<. 8 sharpened limbs sank into the tortured metal of the car's hood as the articulated tail swerved around to come to bear on Dallas. Lily pushed the muzzle of the roomsweeper into the belly of the mechanical beastie and blasted it into debris, which flew back into the car through the open space that was once the windshield and clear out the back of the car, 8 tiny, hook-like appendages still firmly clinging to the hood.

"Thanks," Dallas said as Lily flipped the shotgun over and began reloading. Wu Xing was in sight now, and so was the roadblock set up by Fuj's soldiers. Black armored towncars and a tactical van were blocking the street, black-clad soldiers taking cover and firing into the front of Wu Xing beyond. "Hang on. This could hurt," Dallas said, preparing to ram through the barricade. A second scorpion-drone clanged onto the front of the car, punctuating the seriousness of Dallas' statement. It clambered along the hood of the car, bringing its tail up above it in much the same way as the previous drone had. Lily was trying to bring the half-loaded roomsweeper to bear when another drone crashed into the passenger area and clipped Lily on the right shoulder, knocking her resulting shot wide. Dallas saw a small aperture open on the tip of the scorpion-drone's tail, and felt the heat of a laser-dot on the center of his forehead. The world around him slowed down, and Dallas realized he was staring death in the face. It was a good day to die.

Dallas blinked as the scorpion-drone was thrown violently to the right, just as a small laser beam from its tail cut a line diagonally across the roof of the car. He jerked the wheel hard to the right, skidding his own side of the car into the first blocking sedan of Fujiyama's men. The scorpion drone rattled harmlessly across the pavement, and the drone that clipped Lily was now dangerously in front of her roomsweeper. Dallas grabbed Lily by the left shoulder and they both scrambled out of the windshield-hole, bringing guns to bear on whatever targets seemed close. There were easily a dozen Golden Dragons turning to regard the duo, and just as many drones descending for the final blow. Dallas flicked his left wrist at the nearest soldier, who looked confused as the handle of a throwing dagger almost mystically appeared sticking out of his throat. Lily blasted another drone out of the sky, even as Dallas was descending on a second soldier, another knife already in his hand.

Another drone flew dangerously close to Lily, who could not possibly bring the roomsweeper to bear fast enough. The drone glided in for the kill, then suddenly lurched and dropped out of the air on an uncontrolled spin to Lily's left. Not questioning her good fortune, she rushed to join Dallas as he approached his third target, still striding along the hoods and roofs of the parked cars. She saw a soldier bring a rifle to bear on Dallas, but suddenly lurch backwards as an explosion of red mist erupted from the side of his head. Before Lily even caught up with Dallas, another drone fell to the pavement.

"You kids didn't think I'd let you play without supervision, did you?" crackled over their earpiece radios. "Besides, it looks like you've got more than enough fun to share." Lily was actually glad to hear Dawson's voice, glad another ally was up and fighting. Even so, it almost seemed as if the group had bitten off more than it could chew. Almost...

By I, (Ranger) on Wednesday, July 21, 2004 - 05:02 pm:

Lily took up position at Dallas’ back as the Cheyenne cut through the opposition quite literally with his monowhip. “Nice of you to join us, Ray. Been leaping tall buildings in a single bound while we were getting our asses chewed off?”

Another Dragon soldier lost his head to Dawson’s marksmanship. Dallas and lily shot through the hole in the ranks heading for the alley door.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” came Dawson’s voice. “You want to get inside so I don’t have to check my fire.”

Lily didn’t spare a glance in searching for Dawson, but directed the White Tiger riggers to direct their surviving drones to cover the sniper. With the cars out of action, he was an obvious target.

Then she and Dallas were inside, the steel door chunking comfortingly closed behind them. The leaned against the door breathing accelerated. Dallas pulled the monowhip closed, his hand and sleeve wetly red.

Lily wiped at a cut high on her forehead that was dripping blood. Dallas took a proffered towel from a White Tiger guard and pushed Lily’s hand out of the way, blotting the cut with the terrycloth.

“You’re a hell of a moll, Lily Bao,” he said quietly.

“I’ll fight a war with you any day, Dallas Whitecrow,” she smiled.

He kissed her then, a thirty second escape from the battle that left both of them shorter of breath then the running fire fight had.

They stepped away from each other drunkenly, “Wow,” gasped Lily, “Lets not do that again until we can devout the concentration it deserves.”

Dallas licked his lips, “Agreed,” he cleared his throat self consciously as he noted the grinning guard. “Let’s get going. We’ve still got things to do.”

The pair trotted down the hall, studiously not touching. The door guard chuckled as he hefted the highly illegal railgun – the last line of defense. Maybe he'd get to use it.

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Thursday, July 22, 2004 - 06:09 pm:

Dawson watched through his high-power scope as Dallas and Lily crashed their way to safety. From his vantage point atop the old 'Seattle Soyloaf' factory, still nearly ten blocks away from the burgeoning street-war, Ray could see most of the Renraku line's activity. Fujiyama was down to 6 drones, and they were actively scanning around the area of the recently-crashed green chariot of Dallas Whitecrow and Lily Bao. Ray also saw a lumbering, military-surplus van drive laboriously up the street, drawing closer and closer to the Renraku roadblock.

"Sitting Duck to Mother Goose, what's your 20?" Ray asked into the radio. "Little Red achieved objective, I still have multiple targets. Do you still need a keeper?"

"In ENGLISH, please. You think I have any idea what half your code-speak means?" Crane chided over the channel. "We're approaching Wu-Xing from the south, just passing that old, tall soyloaf factory. And Spyder says yes, we still need a drone or two to trace."

"Roger, I have visual," Ray stifled a chuckle. "Proceed 2 blocks and wait. I count... Six active drones. There may be more inactive still transmitting. On your word I can switch them off." Ray squeezed off another round, dropping a Golden Dragon Soldier who neglected to keep his head down. By now, the soldiers in the roadblock were aware of Ray, but had no idea where he was, so nearly a dozen men cowered between their armored cars, frantically calling for support over their radios. Ray smiled. It wouldn't be long now until the whole mess exploded into something out of control.

By I, (Ranger) on Thursday, July 29, 2004 - 11:44 pm:

Dallas and Lily ran to Amos' command post where they were admitted without delay. Riggers lined one wall as they worked with drones, bugs and other tools of thier trade. Amos had a shaman beside him and was issuing orders to be sent via magical means.

Amos looked up to see his niece standing extraordinarily close to the young Amerind. Both were bloodied but slightly, both wore strange expressions, as if they were trying to remember the precise taste of something exotic.

"Lily! Are you all right? How did it go?"

"We're fine. It went well. There are more left than we intended but there was a last minute request to save drones for triagulation. Ray is outside sniping."

Amos could not repress a smile, "Ray would be. What happened to change the plan?"

As Lily filled her uncle in one of the riggers snapped his fingers for attention. "Radio interception. Encrypted. Working on the key...."

Amos moved to the man's side even as Lily finished her story. "Have we heard from this Spyder person yet."

"No uncle."

Amos tapped two of the riggers. "Intercept their drones signals See if you can pinpoint their contollers."

The men nodded and bent to the task. "Very clever thought," mused Amos. "I wonder why my people neglected to come up with it?"

The rigger beside Amos punched a button, "Partial success, sir," he said as a garbled order issued from a speaker on his workstation. The voice was Fujiyama's. Both Dallas and Amos recognized it.

"Activate the... weruyw... security corps ...qwer lkhrjk ....reserves.... jlfj rlkjer oi lkjrt... strike at Wu Xing, coordinates... askjjrm jkldf. Have my personal guard ...etrlkjmnv rtjk id ...dispatch them to my office..."

"Security corps," echoed Dallas. "Sounds substantial."

"I'd wager so," mused Amos. I wonder how many that is. I believe it indicates a extermination strike agains us my friends."

All the faces in the room turned toward Amos as he smiled grimly as he called the shaman to him. "I think it would be a fine idea to spoil Fujiyama san's plans. Huang, send your messengers to the oyabun as well as to Ho Phat and Billy Woo. It will have to be a united effort after all. I am delighted to be able to surprise John. Pity no one shall be there to record his expression for posterity."

By I, (Ranger) on Sunday, September 12, 2004 - 04:18 pm:

Dallas and Lily ran up the stairs to Amos Li’s office. The battle command center was humming as riggers and deckers fought the war of automation.

“Got it!” shouted one of the deckers. “Mr Li I broke the encrypt. I got the last field transmission!” He plugged in a miniature speaker and played back what he had translated from gibberish: “Requesting backup and air support to press assault into Wu Xing."

“Drek,” swore Dallas. “Did you get a call back from Fujiyama?”

The decker held up a hand, “Waiting… Confirm. Back up is being sent. Looks like they really mean business, I’m getting all sorts of radio fuzz over Renraku secure lines which I can’t get as well as Fujiyama’s security network which I can.”

“How bad?” asked Li.

The deckers eyes went wide, “Bad. Sounds like its no holds barred. He’s coming after us with everything he’s got.”

Li nodded, “Very well. Time to call out our reserves.” He moved to the desk and punched a code into the vidphone

A wizened little man appeared on Li’s conference screen. “Your elite are required, Asako-san.”

The gnome like man nodded, his face betraying no expression. “It will be taken care of.”

“What was that, Uncle?” asked Lily as the screen darkened once more.

Li smiled, “That was Tsuyoshi Asako. Mr Fujiyama suffers under the delusion that he controls Renraku troops as well as his own personal guard. He does not. Asako controls Fujiyama’s superior and no Renraku security will be answering Fujiyama’s summons.”

“That’s handy,” said Dallas, “But what does that translate to numbers wise?”

Li shrugged, “It’s still not great, but without his reserves instead of several hundred men, we believe he can boast no more than 108 men in his personal entourage.”

“I’ll take the ones on the left.”

Li smiled, “Not to worry Mr Whitecrow. If we call in the other Hongs we are not only a match for them, but out number them by a small margin.”

“What about the air cover?”

Li rubbed his chin. “That may be problematical. I don’t have a vehicle and I don’t know if the other Hong leaders do. We’ll put the word out now.”

“Knowing Fuj, airpower could make or break this fight for him,” said Dallas. “I’m going to need a high powered rifle and some cover. I think Ray and I have an anti-aircraft emplacement to set up.”

"I can help with that," grinned Lily.

By I, (Ranger) on Thursday, December 09, 2004 - 02:18 pm:

Dallas followed Lily to her office where body armor and weaponry awaited them. With an admiring grin, Dallas commandeered on set of armor and pulled it on, careful not to make prolonged eye contact or to speak of anything but the job at hand. He could still taste her kiss and that was too distracting to allow anything more to occur; even though both of them had become aware of a new scintillating tension between them.

Dallas snugged on his last greave and punched a number into Lily’s communications console. After the tenth ring she looked up at him. “Are you sure your information is current?”

He nodded with an indulgent smile, “One more ring.”

She jumped as the speaker box barked “Talk!”

Dallas grinned. “Hello Barge. So have you worked out all the kinks yet?”

“Little Bro!” roared the Troll.

Lily cringed as the bellow fuzzed her speaker while Dallas chuckeld. “So everything is in good working order?”

“Frag yeah! You didn’t have to go and buy ole Barge the Kevlar coating. I was touched.”

“My pleasure and privilege,” smiled Dallas. “Do you feel like a trip to the corner of Pay and Back?”

“For you, Little Bro, I’d be happy to cruise to the corner of Hell and Damnation. Barge is your troll. Ask me anything.”

“Do you know anyone with an AV?”

There was a thoughtful pause. “Armed or civilian?”

By I, (Ranger) on Sunday, January 09, 2005 - 11:49 am:

Lily and Dallas waited inside the roof door at Wu Xing. The sound of the battle five floors below echoed weirdly through the concrete canyons.

Dawson had assured them that he was still in place atop the Soyloaf building. "I've been spotted though. One of the fraggers is smarter than the others and sent a pack of microdrones buzzing through here."

"It appears as if Fujiyama-san has pulled out all the stops. We can expect about 100 guys with loud noisemakers accompanied by an airborne RV."

There was a pause before Dawson replied. "Well, that sucks for me."

Dallas grinned in such a way that had Lily wondering just exactly how much these men were enjoying getting shot at. Just her luck to fall for an adrenalin junkie.

"Not to worry, bro. I've always got a plan."

"You gonna share."

"Over the air? Don't be daft." Dallas chuckled as the pause lengthened. He could picture Dawson's scowl.

Lily came up beside Dallas and tugged on his elbow. He looked in the direction of her gaze and his grin broadened, "You are about to become enlightened."

The AV approached on a spiral, none of the surviving drones seemed to catch on that back up had arrived for the enemy camp until it was too late. Dallas and Lily shared a grin as the flying brick set down on the roof.

Barge leapt out of the back door, a Browning .50 calibre machine gun cradled in his arms. His new leg seemed to be working without a hitch.

"You call for a taxi, bud?" he grinned.

"Thanks for answering the call, Barge. This is Lily."

Barge grinned lasciviously at the here, "I like the pocket size model, Little Bro. Any friend, etc., sweetheart."

Lily shook her head, and grabbed up the satchels she had carried to the roof.

"Will you two stop jawing and get your butts in here," growled Leilani from the open door.

Barge gestured rudely at his cousin, but moved with the others toward the AV. "I had to bring her, she's the pilot," explained Barge. "Me, I get to play door gunner." he said thumping his flack vest. "So where first?"

"Well, Ray seems to be pinned down over at the Soyloaf building, why don't we start there. Then we can wait for Mr Fujiyama to arrive with his float entry."

"Sounds like the start of a plan," roared Barge.