The memory of his final battle with Burnout flashed into Ryan's mind. The colors of sunset, the sounds of wind. The canyon walls glowed deep crimson in his memory, and Burnout's chromed parts reflected the blood-colored light.

It was two days ago in the memory. A hurricane of wind blew through the open side door of the Hughes Airstar helicopter as Ryan had fought with the cyber-zombie. As Ryan's final kick sent the overlarge metal body sailing out into the air.

Burnout plummeted, falling into the black fissure of Hells Canyon, an expression of sheer hatred flashing across his inhuman face.

At the last second, the cyborg's telescoping fingers had shot out from his bloodied hands. The prehensile metal snakes flashed toward Ryan. Aiming for Ryan's belt. They curled their sharp and mangled ends around the nylon net bag that held the Dragon Heart. And when they snapped taut, the whole weight of Burnout's body came down like an anchor.

Ryan jerked forward at the waist, pulled off his feet, flying for the door. He scrabbled for a hold, frantically grabbing for anything. He found nothing but grooved flooring. He fell out the side door, the hot air of Hell baking around him as he followed the cyberzombie down.

The helicopter's runner caught Ryan in the gut, knocking the breath from his chest. But it slowed him enough so that his hands found purchase, wrapping around the hot metal. Then he slid over, and their combined weight pulled at his grasp, his sweaty fingers slipping on the runner. White-hot needles jabbed the back of his hands and arms as he tried to focus, tried to hold on.

"I will have your magic, Ryan Mercury," said Burnout from below, his voice the grating of metal on metal.

Ryan looked down. Below him, Burnout hung suspended, his metal parts tinged with the pink of the dying sun. Framed by the impenetrable black of the abyss. Ryan felt his fingers giving way, slipping on the smooth round metal as his strength waned.

Then the nylon web bag tore, ripping away from his belt. And Burnout fell into the dark canyon below. He made no sound as he fell. He simply disappeared, a dark silhouette melting into the inky void. The Dragon Heart went with him, his chrome fingers still clutching it. Still gripping the one thing Dunkelzahn had said could save the world.

The Dragon Heart was an orb of solid orichalcum, shaped like a real four-chambered heart. It was a magical tool of such awesome power that Ryan couldn't even comprehend its true purpose. Dunkelzahn had left Ryan with instructions to take it to the metaplanes, to the site where the magic level had spiked artificially high after the Great Ghost Dance. He was supposed to give the Dragon Heart to the woman who protected the site, to Thayla.

Now, standing on the cliff edge, and breathing in the hot morning air, Ryan gave a harsh laugh. Dunkelzahn couldn't even save himself, he thought. If a great dragon can't prevent himself from being assassinated, how does he expect a simple human to save the whole fragging world?

Ryan hard-swallowed a bite of his protein bar and tried to push all the images and distractions from his mind. Dunkelzahn was dead and no amount of bitterness and anger would bring him back. It was better to try and stay focused on the task at hand.

Burnout's body will show up, he thought. Can't hide that much metal forever.

In addition to Dhin's drones, the decker Jane-in-the-box was using satellites to scan for the machine corpse. Plus the two samurais, Axler and Grind, had set up remote surveillance sites.

We 'II find him when he drifts into a shallow area.

But it was hard to stay focused. The mood around the compound was starting to get ugly. Even though Axler and company were some of the most pro-level mercenaries it had been Ryan's pleasure to work with, they were shadowrunners, not a search and rescue team. They wanted action, not the numbing task of trying to find the proverbial needle in the fragging haystack.

Ryan couldn't agree more. The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time in the search for Burnout and the Dragon Heart. He wanted to finish the construction on the Assets compound, hire some more mercs and runners, and get his forces gathered. He wanted to organize and begin delving into the assassination of Dunkelzahn. So far, no one had any clue to who did it.

And it slotted Ryan off that he was stuck here when he could be helping bring the assassins to justice.

His wristphone beeped, pulling him from his angry self-recrimination. He looked at the small screen, which indicated that it was Jane-in-the-box on the line. Dunkelzahn's decker and a sometime member of the Assets, Inc. team. He took a breath and punched the connect.

Instantly, the tiny vidscreen filled with a cartoon image-a tangle of lion-blonde locks, doe-innocent blue eyes, and a set of the largest breasts this side of a BTL porn chip, barely covered by a black leather halter laced up the front with tiny silver chains. The icon was a sharp contrast to the Jane-in-the-box Ryan knew from real life-a plain-looking human woman of about thirty-five with scraggly brown hair and a skinny body.

Ryan knew that Jane's physical location was deep inside Dunkelzahn's lair in Lake Louise. She rarely left the lair, nestled deep in the stone heart of the old Canadian Rockies, now part of the Athabaskan Council. Frag, she rarely left the cavernous room where she had decked for Dunkelzahn all those years. She even had food delivered-when she ate at all.

Ryan had seen her custom set of decks and gadgetry; he had seen her enter the trance that allowed Dunkelzahn to see the Matrix through her mind, telepathically. He had even ridden along once.

"Hello, Jane," he said.

Jane's Matrix icon smiled at Ryan, flashing perfectly white teeth. "Ryan, it's good to see you eating something." Her full, gloss-black lips turned downward in a sneer. "Even if it is that soy-supplement drek."

Ryan looked down at the remainder of his protein bar and absently shoved the last of it into his mouth. Through chews, he spoke, "You're advising me on diet? That's rich."

Jane laughed.

"What's biz, Jane?"

"Couple bits. First, I followed up on the magical support you requested, though the pickings are slim right now. All the top names on my A-list are otherwise occupied, but I managed to contact one of the top names on my B-list. I think you know her actually."

"What's her name?"

"Miranda."

Ryan thought. "I don't know any runners by that name."

Jane smiled at him. "She has only recently joined the ranks of the independently employed. Which is the main reason she hasn't been moved up to my A-list. By all accounts, she can light up the mana with the very best of the best, but she's green about the shadows. Up until a month ago, she worked as a high-placed wage mage for Fuchi IE."

"Miranda Everli?" Ryan asked.

"Just Miranda now," Jane said.

Ryan took a breath, remembering his two-month undercover stint at Fuchi under the false name of Travis W. Saint John. He recalled working alongside some of the best scientists and mages in the corporate world. One of those mages was Miranda Everli, a petite human with Nihonese features.

Ryan had liked her, and under other circumstances, they might have been close. But he was an undercover operative, and knew better than to form emotional attachments to anyone.

Miranda hadn't been a typical corporate. She had a wild, independent streak to her. And perhaps that was why they had become friends. After several weeks of working closely together, she had finally confessed her frustration with the corp bureaucracy.

Ryan's cover hadn't allowed him to admit he sympathized. Hadn't allowed him to tell her he was planning to be extracted by shadowrunners and placed inside Aztechnology.

Ryan was glad she'd made it out. He'd be happy to see her, but he was concerned about her ability to perform outside the corporate environment. He looked at his wrist-phone. "Is she the best you can come up with?"