Geraint glanced up at him in the moonlight as he completed his work. "You do realize this is bloody madness, don’t you? Two people out here against scores of them in there. I must be insane doing this. You’ll have to cover us damn well with your magic. Hope you’ve got something that’ll keep the corp mages from spotting us too quickly or else we’re sitting ducks. If it’s a two-minute walk to that hill, it’s fifteen seconds running with the drug, twenty if we don’t move fast enough. That’s too long if we’re out in the open. What’s your plan?”

Serrin was busy himself, locking together a series of bizarre stone plaques around a leather strap, jiggling them into place, and finally tightening it around his shoulder and hip. "I thought I’d better put a priority on protection and disguise. I’ve got to make it as hard for them to see us as possible, and that means everything-magical detection, IR scans, ultrasonics-though I don’t think chip-hounds will be a problem. We should be well away before they can get them out of the compound. This little bunch," he added, gripping the belt around his body, “adds some power along the line. I won’t bore you with the details. Key thing is a chaotic shift. How much do you know about spellcraft?”

“I thought a chaotic world spell messed up the sensing of the magician who got hit by it.”

"Same principle, different way of going about it. I spent a year researching a version that centers the effect on the casting magician. Screws up most forms of detection in a constantly shifting area centered on me instead of a target. I don’t think they’re going to have time to run a computing of average transients to figure out the algorithm for the shifting. Besides, it’s keyed to magnetic field fluctuations. I always knew that funny little deposit of magnetically sensitive ferric bone above my sinuses was good for something. They won’t work that one out. Nice big area, too. The barriers I’m erecting are a bit more limited in scale, but we shouldn’t have to worry about anything less than a cascade of automatics or a firework display of multiple grenade launchers.”

Geraint slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t know much about these things, but it sounds good to me."

"When you’re alone out there, it’s a good idea to design something that doesn’t force you to depend on anyone else. But it works just as well when you’re working with another person, too. Only problem is, the drain is pretty heavy. I’ll be a bit groggy for a little while. Make sure you shoot straight.”

They set off for the hill, their boots sloshing in the fouled waters of the field until they reached the incline. They crawled to the top on their bellies, and looked down over the Fuchi site three hundred yards to the west. The headlights of the first convoy began to crawl along the road toward the front gates after a frozen half-hour.

Geraint slipped off the woolen gloves, breathing on his hands to keep them warm. He edged the rifle forward and squinted with his left eye as he lined up the IR sight, ignoring the cars and aiming just inside the gate. As the cars got closer, he drew back and looked away from the glare of their lights.

Serrin was scanning the scene with binox, shifting to IR and low-light. Casting his spell as silently as he could, he made the briefest of checks as the cars spilled their human contents out onto the tarmac inside the gates.

"Geraint, I don’t think it’s him.” Despite the elf’s low whisper, his voice was urgent, stressed. “Hold your fire.”

“Checked the plates?"

"Yes, it’s the right limo, but that’s not him. It’s a damn good double, but not good enough. Something feels weird here. I’m sensing that they’re not paying much attention to this side of the place. They’re looking south.”

Geraint was still peering down the sight, but with the slightest of movements he could see that the security guards were all looking that way. "Of course they are. It’s where the gates open.”

“No, it’s more than that. I don’t dare probe, it’ll give us away. But I-wait a minute. North, look!" he hissed.

Geraint lifted his eyes away from the rifle sight and gazed out toward the far gate. Two shadowy vehicles were headed that way, gliding silently across the fields. They were going straight for the smaller northern gate, on the far side of the complex from the security compound. "We were right. The dummy’s coming in from the south. Here’s the real thing.” He shifted position, drawing the gun around gently to face the far gate, settling to his aim again. "Two cars, say ten men. I can down four of them before they know what hit them. Let’s pray one of them is who we’re looking for."

Geraint never made that shot.

Whatever the noise was, it made them both suddenly duck their heads, utterly bewildered. Then they heard the drone of a helicopter, coming in low from the west. It had to be one of the IWS-licensed super-stealths; the thing was almost over the far wall before they heard it. Serrin began his spellcasting as Geraint desperately tried to revise his plan of action, waiting for the chopper to land, certain that this must be their man. The sudden flare took him completely by surprise, ruining his aim.

Then the gunfire began.

Aqib’s improvised launcher worked pretty well the first time. The flareshot landed whack in the middle of the compound, illuminating a large group of black-visored orks and trolls waving down the chopper. The gates were already opening when Sachin’s Ceska started chattering. He and Wasim were almost whooping as their guns spat, and Imran had his beloved Predator readied for some carefully aimed fire.

Rani was the first to realize something was very, very wrong. “Look out! They know!”

The security men were already storming out of the gates, and a couple of real grenade launchers were coughing missiles at them from the security tower. Damn Chenka’s powders, Rani screamed to herself. The men’s blood is too hot, they don’t see.

It was swift and bloody. Aqib’s launcher disintegrated as he let fly a second time, the young Sind samurai thrown backward, arms bathed in flame. To her left, another blast exploded Wasim’s body into bloody shreds of gore. The others had no time to take in the horror of it as a great pillar of flame roared to life behind them, then began to streak across the brilliantly lit terrain at staggering speed.

In the distance, Serrin gasped, appalled. "Christ, a fragging fire elemental. Those guys are dead meat."

Geraint wasn’t stopping. He’d already torn the top off his vial and was screaming at Serrin to do the same. As he turned, he dropped the rifle and dragged a Bond and Carrington pistol from his padded jacket, loping away across the mud and muck toward the stashed bike.

Serrin wasn’t hanging around to argue. Whatever it was they’d strayed into, there wasn’t a hope in hell of finding Kuranita in this madness. He could only hope his spell would cover their exit, given that security was looking elsewhere.

His leg betrayed him. A deep rumble from the area of the compound set the ground to shaking underfoot, and the elf stumbled and fell. Mouth choked with mud and the sour taste of saline and acid, Serrin dragged himself to his feet, his pulse racing crazily. To his right, two figures were racing desperately across the road with the retina-searing elemental close behind. A detachment of security also was hot in pursuit, SMGs chattering.

Serrin didn’t know why he did it; it was crazy and stupid. Dropping his sustained protections was absurd under the circumstances, but something told him that no one was after him, no one had seen him. He began to chant slowly. He got lucky. The elemental wasn’t a tough one, its force fairly weak, and it took the elf mage no more than fifteen seconds to banish the spirit. The spell sapped the creature’s power, and its flames flickered and died. All those other people had to do now was evade a posse of heavily armored and cyberware-toting hulks with automatic weapons.