After they'd finished their various jobs, the crew of the Rabid Elephant had stayed at a Reinhoff hotel. Reinhoff was an international hotel corporation. Not a very good one, but hey, it was cheap.
Mag was woken up in the middle of the night by a ping on the datapad he'd been given. Screw it, he was tired.
ping
Bah. Mag slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes, some. People weren't meant to wake people up in the middle of the night after a long day.
ping
Mag started looking for the atrocious thing.
"Whoever's that is, turn it off," Pete said, in that slow, tortured way people speak in the morning.
pingpingpingpingping
Ironically, Mag was able to find it, easier, with the continuous sound. He grabbed it and flipped up the screen. It requested an iris scan, so he pointed it at his eye.
After it was verified that he was, indeed, Mag Steelglass, the screen went to the text communication section.
sir, it's catalina
if this isn't important, i'll kill you, you know that
that cruiser we caught up to after our little battle wasn't irwin romal's
eh?
they switched it in, to lead us away from him
tricky
that means there's a good chance they know we're here and are looking for us
right...
i'll try to meet you at the corner of willow and rage
ah. we'll try to be there, soon
be careful, and all that stuff
whoa, a lack of formality
my deepest apologies, sir
Catalina killed the connection, making Mag's screen go black, again.
"What was all that racket?" asked Bob.
"It was Catalina. We've gotta go."
"Was I right?"
"About what?"
"Are we in trouble?"
"Potentially."
Mag explained what she had said while they packed.
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They snuck on down to the ground floor, and started making their way out. Six guys stopped them in the lobby, each brandishing a pistol or a knife.
"Hello, foreigners. I'll just cut to the chase: set your packs down, and hand over the codes to your credit accounts."
Mag didn't have time, they needed to get out of here. "We don't have time for this, sir."
"Oh, and why should your needs be of such high priority?"
"Are we going to continue with this silliness or not?"
"I don't like your attitude."
"Zephyr."
Each of the four crew members of the Rabid Elephant quickly drew their uzis and opened fire. Less than a second of fire, and all six muggers were down. The guy who had done the talking managed to get a shot off before he went down. It hit Pete's arm. Pete swore.
"You aright there?"
"I don't think it'll be too bad." Pete was clutching his arm and looking to be in some pain. Bob tossed his pack down, got out two temporary wound patchers, and applied them to the entrance and exit holes the bullet had made. They automatically sealed the wounded area off, and began applying pain relief drugs. Bob shouldered his pack, again, and they headed to the street. The glass that made up most of the front wall in the lobby had all been shattered by the stray bullets.
They stepped through, not bothering with the doors. Their motorcycles were in the hotel's garage, which needed codes to be accessed. Mag put the codes in, and the door opened. They jogged over the the motorcycles, hopped on, and headed off.
Their first turn brought them face-to-face with a Mercinim city patrol tank. It fired its 50mm railgun at them. Mag and Pete swerved around it to the right, Bob and Maria to the left. The tank quickly turned and pursued. It was built for city combat - it was fast, maneuverable, small, and had just enough weaponry and armoring to make it nearly invincible to anything relying on standard handguns. Which was most things found in the city. The tank itself was faster than their motorcycles. This would be an "interesting" event...
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"Vampiric chickens are spiffy. Bak bak bak ARRR!"