"I guess so," Kellan said. "G-Dogg and Lothan and the others make it sound like the right thing is whatever lets you survive and get ahead."

"Is that what you think?"

Kellan shook her head. "I don't know. Back in Kansas City, it seemed so simple. Seattle is: different. Nothing's easy here."

Orion shrugged. "My mom used to say, 'If it's easy, it's probably not worth doing.' You have to make your own choices."

Kellan looked at him and smiled. "Well, I'm sure of this," she said. "Right now, we're alive, we've got a hell of a lot of nuyen, the night's not over yet, and there's a whole metroplex I'd like to explore. It would be great if you came along."

Orion grinned. "You make me an offer I can't refuse."

Together they walked back to where G-Dogg, Liada and Silver Max waited.

"I made a call, and we can get into Reno's downtown if we move out now," G-Dogg said. "The doorman's a chummer of mine, and he owes me one." "That's wiz," Kellan agreed. "Let's buzz." She climbed onto the back of Orion's bike and hugged her arms around the elf's waist. G-Dogg took the others in the Argent. With a roar of engines, they disappeared into the shadows.

When the other runners were gone, Jackie Ozone went back into the abandoned building, where several men in nondescript street clothes had joined Ms. Johnson. They were in the process of transferring the crates from the back of the truck onto a flatbed, covering the barcodes and other markings with new labels, and even stripping the Ares cargo hauler. In a matter of hours, the truck would be broken down for parts. It was an efficient operation, but then Jackie expected nothing less.

"Your information was accurate," Ms. Johnson said to Jackie. "These Ares weapons will be quite useful, once we've arranged to put them into the right hands."

"I knew you would think so," the decker replied, and her corporate contact nodded.

"More importantly," Ms. Johnson said, "Ares will end up with a great deal of explaining to do when the source of the weapons leaks to the media. I doubt they will 'lose' any more shipments of weapons in the immediate future."

"So much for making Knight Errant look good," Jackie said.

"Exactly."

"Lone Star's police services contract should be safe enough."

Ms. Johnson shrugged. "I couldn't care less about Lone Star," she said, "so long as Knight Errant doesn't acquire the police services contract for Seattle. Having an Ares subsidiary in charge of law enforcement here could potentially complicate matters for us. It's been trouble in Boston, and that's a good deal closer to our headquarters."

"So, then," Jackie said. "I can assume that everything is satisfactory?"

"Indeed," Ms. Johnson replied. She reached into her shoulder bag and withdrew a credstick, which she handed to Jackie. "Here's our agreed-upon finder's fee for setting things up." Jackie slotted the stick into a reader she produced from her own bag and confirmed the amount on it was correct.

"Excellent," she said with a smile. "A pleasure doing business with you, Eve, as always."

"Likewise, Jackie," the other woman replied. "I assume our arrangement remains just between us?"

"Of course. All the others know is that I found us a buyer for the merchandise in record time. They don't know anything about Cross Technologies' involvement or that I contacted you about acquiring the goods in advance of the run."

"Good," Eve said. "I would like to maintain our arrangement, if you're still interested. Having you on retainer has proven very useful to us."

"And to me," Jackie said.

"Good. Keep me informed of anything you come across that might be of interest to us, and I'll ensure you are well compensated."

"Absolutely," the decker said, patting the credstick stowed in her bag.

As she walked out of the building, Jackie saw a group of ragged gangers pull up outside, astride heavy motorcycles. The bikes were tricked out in red and orange flames, and each ganger wore a jacket painted with a snarling hound's head wreathed in flames.

Things are about to change along Route I-405, Jackie thought as she headed to her car. The Ares weapons would make the Hellhounds a force to be reckoned with in the area. The fact that the Hellhounds hated metahumans-especially gangs like the Ancients and the Spikes-would keep things interesting in the balance of power. She was sure that the fact that their turf ran near Knight Errant's training academy was no coincidence. She only wished that she could see the look on Brickman's face when he found out exactly where his missing weapons had gone.

Simon Brickman was clearly unhappy. He sat in his office, glowering at the two figures seated on the opposite side of his broad desk, his expression growing increasingly stormy as he listened to their recitals of everything that had happened the previous night, listened as the operation he'd planned came apart.

"Dammit, Lothan," he said finally, slamming a hand down on his desk. "What the frag am I paying you for?"

"You paid me to ensure the Ancients were dealt with," the troll mage replied calmly, "which I did. You didn't pay me to deal with unexpected trouble, or to throw myself in the way of danger."

"You certainly didn't have any trouble getting yourself out of danger," Brickman countered.

"I rarely do. Really, Simon, what did you expect me to do? Information leaked and we were caught off guard. I don't see how blame for that can be assigned to me."

"Oh, really? Strange coincidence then, that the shadowrunners involved in hijacking the weapons were the same ones you worked with on the first job, Lothan."

The troll mage turned with a look of disdain toward the other man seated in front of Brickman's desk.

"Do you have something to say, Lucifer?" he asked.

"I think the implication is obvious," the Ancients' leader sneered.

"What? That I arranged to hijack the weapons away from your little band and sold them on the side for a tidy profit?" Lothan asked.

Brickman remained silent, but it was clear he had the same thought.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Lothan asked both men. "You know my reputation in this business. Why would I sacrifice it for the paltry profit of a shipment of guns?"

"Greed does strange things to people," Green Lucifer mused aloud.

"So does ambition," Lothan replied.

"Even if you were unaware of their plans, you should keep better control of your people," the elf said.

"I could say the same to you, since Orion was working right alongside the others."

"He's not part of the Ancients any more," Lucifer said flatly.

"Strange. I thought the intention was for him to be sacrificed along with the other troublemakers you were sending to their deaths," Lothan replied.

"Enough!" Brickman said, pressing his fingertips to his temples. "If the two of you want to fight over who's to blame, you can do it elsewhere. I don't have time for this drek."

"Fine with me," Lothan replied haughtily. "I only came to conclude our business."

Brickman slowly raised his head and turned to give the troll an icy stare. "Lothan, if you think I intend to pay you a single nuyen after the way this operation was botched, then you're more delusional about your own value than I guessed."

The troll returned Brickman's glare measure for measure. "I think I know my worth very well," he said evenly. "I know our agreement did not accommodate nonpayment for unforeseen circumstances."

Green Lucifer snorted derisively, but Lothan continued unabated.

"I will not accept breach of contract for circumstances beyond my control," he said. "I expect you to live up to your end of our agreement."

The two men glared at each other for a long moment before Brickman took a credstick out of the drawer of his desk and laid it on the polished glass top. He flicked it toward Lothan with one finger.