I waved my gunner over to help me set the circuit box back in place. It was a lot easier to put back in than it was to take out. Phil placed a steel plate over the hole and mumbled a few words under his breath. The plate momentarily glowed red as the edges softened and melded with the rest of the armor. The ork stood up and admired his handiwork. "Kinda sloppy, but it should hold up."
I picked up a rag to wipe my hands clean. "Now all we have to do is find a needle in a thousand kilometer haystack."
"You sure about this, Phil?"
"Trust me, Jo-girl, I know just about all of Johnny's hideaways," reassured Phil. "If you think Johnny went this way to beat the heat, then this hideout is the perfect spot."
"No, I didn't mean that," I clarified. "I was asking, are you sure he's not going to spot us this way?"
The ork burst out laughing into the intercom. "Not unless he Awakened in the past couple of hours. As long as we find him before sunrise, this sky spirit will keep anyone from finding us."
By now I knew well enough to take magicians for their word, but I still couldn't help having doubts. After we had taken off Phil called up a nature spirit to mask our presence. Ever since then we'd been flying through cloud coverage that hadn't been around at all earlier this evening. We even flew over a ground patrol once by accident, and they didn't even blink.
I pulled out of full immersion back into minimal simsense. Although the same darkened cabin surrounded my view, it was eerily silent. I partially unbuckled my helmet, and all I could hear was the wind whistling around us as we passed.
As I buckled up the flight helmet again, I called up the navigational map, which materialized in my simsense-enhanced view as a separate window. The view outside was dimmer, because we were flying on passive sensors, to better improve our odds of sneaking up unnoticed.
As we got within a few kilometers, I eased back on the throttle and let out the flaps. I didn't so much plan on landing, but more like coasting to a rest. The stall warning came on as we approached the last hill, bleeping that speed was dangerously low. I bent back slightly, and the t-bird's nose rose slightly. We touched ground on a grassy slope and began rolling uphill. As gravity sapped away the last bit of momentum, I swerved the t-bird to one side, to bring it perpendicular to the incline. The t-bird finally came to rest on the reverse slope, just below the crest of the hilltop.
I unjacked quickly and squirreled up and out the hatchway. Pulling myself out of the hatch, I ripped off my flight helmet and quietly slid down the hull's forward slope, landing softly on the ground. As the ork jumped down, I withdrew my Predator. Phil held up his hand for me to wait, closed his eyes, and softly chanted under his breath. Although I saw nothing, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up and sensed a presence around us. Next thing I knew, I found myself behind a large bush that I didn't remember being there before. The ork nodded and hefted his shotgun, indicating me to proceed.
Phil and I bounded over the top of the hill and descended down into the valley. On the other side was a simple wood cabin next to a dirt trail, possibly an old ranger station abandoned from disuse. Although I couldn't spot Johnny's t-bird, I could see lights on inside the cabin. We quietly made our way down over to one side of the cabin. Thanks to whatever mojo Phil conjured up, we always seemed to find ourselves behind cover, even when we crossed the trail, and the ground was unusually free from noisemaking debris. Circling around the cabin corner, I made my way over to one of the windows and peered inside.
Clio was impatiently pacing back and forth across the cabin floor. She was showing far more emotion than I'd ever seen before. "How much longer do we have to wait here?"
Johnny's back was to the windows, but his slumped shoulders pretty much indicated his mood. "Not for a couple more hours, at least. There's too much activity for us to be going anywhere right now."
Clio pounded her fist on the table in frustration. "That's too long! We need to get to San Francisco by dawn."
Johnny turned his head to look at Clio. My God, he was a wreck. "Then we shouldn't have betrayed Phil like that. If we had him on overwatch we'd be there by now."
Clio turned to face Johnny. "Get a grip on yourself. I know Phil was your longtime partner, but my people will find a better replacement. We'll help you out, but you must uphold your end of the bargain."
Clio plopped into a chair in the corner. "At least we got rid of that slitch Cruise. She was starting to figure out too much. Maybe I miscalculated, and she was the mole all along."
"Just because you're paranoid, Clio, it doesn't ALWAYS mean someone's out to get you." As I stepped into the cabin, I smiled sweetly at Clio while keeping my Predator leveled on her. "For the record, I'm nobody's gal but my own. I don't mind hitching along, but I don't like being taken for a ride."
If looks could kill, Clio's face would be an atom bomb. Phil stepped into the cabin to back me up. "Just tell me one thing, Johnny: Why? Why did you sell out?"
Johnny didn't look his partner in the eye. "Time. Let's be honest Phil, I'm not the same t-bird jammer I used to be twelve years ago, and the Northwest's changed over the past few years. So when Clio told me she had contacts in the Karatsa-gumi who could help out, the answer seemed obvious."
My brow crinkled as I tried to figure out the name. "What do a bunch of San Fran yaks have to do with our little smuggling run to Denver?"
"I would suspect they are interested in the product you brought from Seattle, Ms. Cruise," said a voice from behind me. Standing in the doorway was another ork, taller than Phil and adorned in native garb garnished with white feathers.
With Phil and I momentarily distracted by our surprise visitor, Clio attempted to draw her pistol and make a break for it. However, as she struggled with her pistol, an Indian dancer suddenly appeared in the cabin and tackled her to the ground. As he raised a tomahawk to put her down, the ork glanced sharply, sending a sharp look of silent yet stern objection. The spirit paused, bowed, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Between his garb and this display of power, it was obvious who our new visitor was. "You're a long way from Denver, aren't you, Mr. Whitebird?"
Nicholas Whitebird, translator for the Great Dragon Ghostwalker, simply nodded acknowledgement. "When Gonzales didn't report in at Smuggler's Valley, my master became concerned. So when your associate started summoning spirits to conceal your aircraft, we took notice. Transport was arranged to bring me here."
That meant the Denver Zonies weren't too far away. Terrific.
The ork stood over Clio. "As for you, I have a message for you to deliver. Ghostwalker has no interest in the personal feud between your master and Lung, but he does not appreciate your attempts to steal Lung's gift from T'ai Shan. If you choose to persist in this foolishness, then the consequences will be severe."
Clio said nothing but tried to meet his gaze in an attempt at defiance. However, after three seconds she dropped her head and shuffled quietly out the door into the night.
After Clio had left with her tail between her legs, Whitebird turned to us and presented several credsticks. "My associates will take charge of your cargo from here. Consider your services rendered complete. There is also an added bonus for maintaining confidentiality in this matter."
In other words, keep our mouths shut. As Phil and Johnny took their share, Whitebird spoke to them. "While your best days may be behind you, you still have much to contribute, Johnny. My master would be willing to provide you the assistance that Clio's masters would, if you would be watchful of what's abreast in the smuggling community."