The station was raucous even at this late hour. Few innocents were abroad because the thriller gangs ruled the night and the streets of the inner city. Dressed in their colors, they pushed and shoved at each other, laughing when someone got mad and took a real swing. A knife flashed as Trey reached back to help Ariadne Silverstaff into the monorail car, and one of the thrillers went down with a blade buried in his gut. His companions boarded the next car up from the shadowrunners and yelled obscenities as the downed ganger dragged himself away, leaving a bloody trail.
A double row of seats ran down either side of the car, with synthleather loops hanging from the ceiling for passengers who had to stand. In the mornings and afternoons, the monorails were crowded with commuter traffic. Now, the weak lights barely illuminated the interior of the car.
Trey led Ariadne to a seat, then sat beside her, keeping up a calm and cool front to reassure her. The woman's face had blanched while as they waited for the train and she still looked pale.
Archangel moved immediately to a corner in the back of the car and removed an access plate, quickly dropping a tap into the car's emergency com and booting up her deck, hidden inside a scarred orange toolbox.
"Please secure all items and keep hands and feet inside the cars," the pleasant male voice recording announced over the intercom systems.
With a lurch and a hiss, the monorail took off.
Skater jerked with the sudden acceleration. Adrenaline was pounding inside him, setting him on die razor's edge of awareness. The boosted reflexes were only a heartbeat away.
The monorail car was twenty' meters long, three meters high so most trolls only had to duck slightly, and seven meters across. On the outside, it looked like a flat-gray sausage and bore the blue pattern of Line Two. Line One cars were painted with red patterns. The colors were always layered over with graffiti, and the city had given up trying to keep the trains unmarked. Emergency access doors were at either end, and were never supposed to be opened without authorization. Usually, at night, that rule was violated,
There were four other passengers in the car, all of them looking like late-shift workers just trying to survive the trip home. None of them looked like McKenzie's people. But then, Skater supposed, none of them would.
"Something wrong with this car?" a slender girl asked. She wore ripped clothing, had her face pierced above both eyebrows and through one side of her mouth, and sported a brilliant chartreuse bowl cut. Her eyes were dead behind the rectangular sunglasses.
"No," Skater replied. "Regular monthly maintenance."
"And it takes four of you?"
Skater looked at her. "It's not exactly safe."
"Yeah." The girl showed him a bloodthirsty grin. "No drek." She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Looking out the smeared and streaked windows. Skater watched the sprawl pass by four stories below. He seldom rode the monorail. Larisa had liked it, but it always left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. The train wound between some of the buildings, and soared over others, moving along the support track.
During the day, it took almost forty-five minutes to circle the city, even with the automated stops and locked doors keeping the lines moving. But at night the time was nearly halved.
Skater accessed his headlink to make sure they hadn't been jammed as they approached the King Street Station.
"We're ready," Duran reported.
The ork, Wheeler, and Elvis were further back in the train, waiting to back up the play.
Skater glanced at Archangel, and she gave him a nod. Her spot offered some protection and would keep her out of sight for awhile.
The monorail eased to a stop. The automated voice announced the station and opened the doors.
Three of the passengers off-loaded, leaving the young girl behind.
Skater unfurled a TEMPORARILY CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE banner with suction cups at the four corners and affixed it to the windows. He walked to the door and turned away a half-dozen passengers and pointed to the sign. They grumbled but moved on. Still blocking the door, he turned to the girl and said, "I'm afraid you're going to have to find another car for the rest of your trip."
"I like it here just fine."
Skater gave her a hard look. "You'll like it more somewhere else, or you'll have to catch the next circuit."
"Fragging ditbrained sprawl service-drone," the girl muttered as she gathered her bag and pushed herself up. She ignored the door and used the forward emergency exit to get into the next car.
'There he is," Ariadne said. She was looking through the window.
Peering through the gloom of the King Street Station, Skater saw Tavis Silverstaff walking hurriedly toward the monorail car.
The elf was dressed in casual wear that had already drawn a pack of Cutter thrillers, their gold and green colors marking them even in the shadows. Silverstaff merely ignored them, stepping quickly into the car.
"Hold it right there," Skater said, unzipping his jumpsuit to get at his Predator in its shoulder leather. He wore Kevlar under the jumpsuit as well, and he was already sweating with the heat of it.
Silverstaff froze in the center of the car, his eyes locked on his wife.
Trey moved slightly, revealing the pistol he was holding.
The thrillers tried to follow Silverstaff into the car, but Skater stepped in front of them, blocking the way. "Car's closed," he said, indicating the banner in the window.
The lead Cutter was a gap-toothed male with sandy hair that looked like it had been styled by a blind man wielding a lawn edger. "Think you can keep all of us out?" he taunted.
Skater lifted the Predator and shoved it between the thriller's eyes. "You won't be around to know."
Angry noises started in the back, egging the leader on. But he didn't move, even after the canned message about the doors started up. As the train pulled away from the station. Skater put the pistol away and turned to Silverstaff.
"You've got the credstick?" he asked.
"Yes." Silverstaff reached inside his jacket and pulled out the ebony rod. "I received the payment earlier. The credstick holds the stock. Your DNA is locked into the access codes."
Skater plucked the credstick from the man's fingers. He'd already sensed the shadows gathering on the other side of the emergency exit when he heard Elvis's warning over his headware.
"It's happening," the troll samurai said. "They've got guys coming at you from both ends."
Wheeler had replaced the monorail's dog-brain remote control with the one he’d rebuilt at the suite. As a result of the new dog-brain interface-equipped with masking utilities courtesy of Archangel so the replacement wouldn't be detected by the main transport CPU downtown-the dwarf rigger not only had access to the monorail's controls, but the security cameras as well. The other members of the team could see everything that was going on in all the cars.
"We're on our way," Duran promised.
Over Silverstaff's shoulder. Skater saw the front emergency door yanked outward. He drew the Predator again and pointed it at Silverstaff. He also look advantage of the confusion long enough to switch the credstick for the one Archangel had prepared.
"I told you to come alone," Skater told Silverstaff.
Ten yabos filled that side of the car, pulling weapons. They were obviously McKenzie's muscle.
"Skater," Trey called, playing out his part of the scenario. He stood up facing the rear door to the car, holding his gun out and using Ariadne as a shield.
"I see them."
"We're almost there, chummer," Elvis said over the Crypto Circuit. The sound of the wind whipped in over his transmission, blotting out some of the words.