YOU TOOK AWAY EVERYTHING I EVER CARED ABOUT.

THREE YEARS AGO, A STRIKE TEAM SENT BY YOU KILLED THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN MY LIFE. SHE NEVER HAD A CHANCE.

SHE KNEW THIS MAY HAPPEN. IT COMES WITH THE JOB.

YESTERDAY YOU ATTACKED A CENTRE FOR STREET PEOPLE, A PLACE THAT GAVE THEM ANOTHER CHANCE. YOUR TEAM DESTROYED THE PLACE. KILLED A LOT OF INNOCENT PEOPLE. THEY PERSUED THE SURVIVOURS INTO THE SEWERS, HUNTED THEM THROUGH THE TUNNELS.

ALL THIS WAS IN AN EFFORT TO KILL ME.

THAT YOU WOULD COME AFTER ME IS NO SURPRISE. I HURT ONE OF YOUR LITTLE BUISNESSES. SO YOU SENT A TEAM TO KILL ME. NO SURPRISES.

IM A SHADOWRUNNER. IT COMES WITH THE JOB

YOUR TEAM FAILED.

NOW IM GOING TO KILL YOU.

GIVEN THE SUFFERING YOU'VE CAUSED, ITS ONLY FAIR.

I WANT YOU TO KNOW WHOS GOING TO KILL YOU AND WHY.

BE GREATFUL. THE WHO AND WHY ARE THINGS YOUR VICTIMS NEVER KNEW.

BOSS GASKIN, IM COMING FOR YOU.

TONIGHT.

<<<SENDER ID UNKNOWN. TRACE FAILED. MESSAGE RECEIVED 02:15AM 27-05-60.>>>

Boss Gaskin, underworld crime lord and the final authority in the area of Redmond known locally as The Noose, read the message through slowly, two possibly three times.

Then the Ork looked up at his lieutenant, a human called Dodson. At just over six foot of pure muscle, Dodson was impressive enough, but then you factored in the all the cybernetics, weapons, armor and a lifetime of killing, Dodson was a man to fear.

"I take it your ready for him?"

Dodson nodded. "Si, boss. Dis place is sewn up tight. No one gets in, nor out. Not with out my say so. All guards are on the alert, dey know what to expect. We got laser trips an' knotchopper bombs in the lifts. He ain’t gonna get in."

Gaskin raised an eyebrow. "what about the stairs? You didnt mention the stairs."

"Laser trips that activate sentry guns set in da ceiling. All the guards have got tags that let them get passed da new toys."

"Good. And if he gets past that lot, you'll handle him I'm sure. Thank you Dodson, you may go."

Gaskin gestured idly with a manicured hand, and Dodson quietly made his exit.

Gaskin spent the rest of the evening working through the details of one of his more legitimate business deals. After a few hours, the well groomed Ork felt the need for a break. Getting up from his desk, he wandered across to the bar that filled the one wall of his spacious office. He poured himself a generous measure of malt whiskey (real. It had cost him a small fortune to get) and slumped in his favorite relaxing chair. He stared up at the glass ceiling of the penthouse, and out at the Seattle night beyond. Cloudy. Again. He sighed.

It was hard to run a business of any kind in Redmond Barrens, which was why he distanced himself from the site of his operations as much as possible. Life was so much more palatable here on the sea front. His penthouse offered an unrivaled view of the Seattle skyline on one facing, dominated by the huge form of the Renraku Archology, and on the other the jetties and piers that controlled so much of Seattles boating.

It was hard to run a business (legal or otherwise) in Redmond, and now this street punk, this kid with a weapon and ideas, this Shadowrunner was determined to complicate matters. Shadowrunner, he hated that term. So dramatic, so romantic. In the cynical corridors of his mind, Gaskin knew there was nothing romantic about what they did. They fetched, they carried. They killed, they kidnapped. They attacked, they defended. Pay them enough and they'd do anything. Some of them pretended to have values. To behave according to some sort of moral code. Gaskin barked a short and extremely unpleasant laugh. Morals. They had no place in the kind of work Runners did. They had little place in his work.

A light flashed on his desk. The intercom. Sighing at this interruption in his musings, Gaskin crossed to his desk and flicked a switch.

"Yes?"

"Boss, he's here. We just lost the guys on the waterfront gate. He tried to lock him down in the loading bay with the automatic doors, but he broke loose."

"Where is he now?"

"We... we don't know."

"What? Dodson, you better start talking sense."

"He isn’t showing on cameras. Visual, infrared, Nothing. He must have some kind of thermal dampening."

"Dodson, I employ you because you claim to be competent. The best at what you do, you said. And now one man with a gun and some dumb ideas is taking you to bits. My faith in you is beginning to look misplaced. I trust this is only a temporary lapse?"

A pause from the other end of the line, low voices that Gaskin couldn’t quite make out. Then Dodson came back on the line, sounding smug.

"Boss, got some good news for ya. The dumb goon just triggered a motion detector on the roof. I'm taking a team up now to nail da little bastard. I'll call you back when we got 'im."

"You do just that."

click

Gaskin looked pensively up at the glass pyramid that formed the centre of the ceiling to his penthouse. Could he? No. Gaskin had made sure that the glass in that pyramid was toughened. Nothing short of an impact like a charging rhino would break that.

He sipped his whiskey, Dodson was competent, soon the report would come through that the intruder had been neutralized.

A sudden racket of gunfire on the roof. Muzzle flashes illuminated two of Dodsons team, crouched near the outlet to an air vent, firing at someone Gaskin couldn’t see.

The chatter of SMGs was joined by the deeper bass roar of an assault rifle, the air vent was riddled with holes and the two men collapsed, leaking blood from multiple holes.

Gaskin watched in amazement. Those two had been amongst his best. This intruder was good. Under different circumstances, Gaskin would have hired him. As it was, he had signed his own death warrant the moment he sent that message. Dodson would see to it.

Gaskin just saw Dodson charge past, his reflex enhancers giving the brawny human a speed that few could hope to achieve. The assault rifle roared again, but Dodson ghosted to one side almost gracefully. Several bullets hit the glass pyramid, cracking it badly, but the glass held.

The sounds of a scuffle on the roof. Two men fighting for their lives. Soon Gaskin knew he would hear a faint crack as Dodson broke his opponents back, it was his preferred method of killing.

Gaskin sipped at his drink again. Unconcerned that there was two dead men on his roof, and would soon be three.

The glass of the pyramid exploded inward under a terrific impact and falling through the shower of glass shards came two bodies. Dodson was instantly recognizable, lips drawn back in a feral snarl, his left hand round his opponents throat, his right drawn back, the fingers obscured by the hand razor protruding from just behind his knuckles. Underneath him, his opponent, much more lightly built than Dodson, but about the same height, his face obscured by a tight fitting mask, twisted in mid air, one hand grabbing at Dodsons right arm, trying to block the slashing hand razor. The other still held the rifle that had killed the guards on the roof. The two fell in seeming slow motion, straight toward Gaskins desk.

The attacker twisted just before he hit the desk, managed to get a knee between himself and Dodson, their impact smashed all four legs on the antique desk, and somehow, the masked man managed to convert the momentum from their downward plummet into a body throw that hurled Dodson across the room. Continuing the motion of the throw, he performed a backward roll that brought him smoothly to his feet, his back toward Dodson who was already charging again, a sadistic grin on his face.

The masked man span to face Dodson, just as Dodson lashed out. His large fist connecting with the lighter mans jaw like a hammer blow, sending him staggering backward. The man attempted to level the rifle, but the weapon was kicked out of his hand, this was followed up with another kick that left the lighter man curled on the floor, wheezing. He rolled desperately away as Dodson tried to stamp on his neck, lashed out with a foot, the toe of his boot catching Dodson in the ankle, making the larger man jump backward, scowling.

As Gaskin watched the fight unfold, he realized that this Shadowrunner was good. Not as tough or strong as Dodson, but just as skilled. He also appeared to have a slight edge in speed, allowing him to avoid the worst effect of Dodsons sledgehammer blows. Still there could only be one conclusion. Sooner or later, he knew, the runner would tire. In fact, it seemed to be happening now.

The runner staggered backward, his one arm curled across his chest, the hand clutching under his arm, protecting ribs that had been broken by a vicious kick. His back against a wall, the maneuverability advantage granted by his faster reflexes was useless.

Dodson closed in, arms spread.

Then quite unexpectedly, stopped, with a jerk.

He jerked twice more and slumped sideways.

The runner was leaning against the wall, the hand that had been 'protecting' his ribs was holding a vicious looking pistol, a large silencer attached to the barrel.

Gaskin realized what had happened, under the pretense of protecting his damaged ribs, the runner had managed to draw the pistol from a holster hidden under his arm.

The ribs were definitely broken, that much was obvious from the way the man moved as he walked toward Gaskin, the pistol aimed at the center of Gaskins chest.

With his free hand, the runner pulled off the mask he was wearing. The face underneath was streaking with sweat, a large bruise beginning to show on his jaw where Dodsons punch had connected.

Pale skin. Gray eyes. An old scar above his right eye. Dark brown hair, cut short.

Gaskin briefly thought about trying to get to the gun hidden in his desk draw. Then remembered that his desk was now so much wreckage. He would never find the weapon before the runner could kill him.

No other options, negotiate. Try and talk your way out. You've talked your way into and out of things like this for years. You talked your way in to the roll of crime lord. One dumb runner should be easy.

He drew a breath, but the runner spoke first. His voice low.

"You know why I'm here. You know what I want. You sent a team after me, because I hurt your businesses in the past. I can understand that. I can accept that. What I can’t accept is when you kill nearly a hundred innocents to get to me. I would ask why, but I don’t intend to let you live long enough to answer. Your men also killed another runner several years ago. A female runner. She did not die easily. She bled to death when a bullet took her throat out. I held her whilst she died. It took several minutes. We were on a run into one of your establishments at the time. So you could say that it was just business. But I loved her, and she died before I could tell her that.

I'm here to kill you Gaskin, and when I look down at your body, maybe some of the pain inside me will go away. You will get no more mercy from me than you gave to those you butchered. They died scared, unable to defend themselves. What’s that feel like Gaskin?"

He fired, the armor piercing round blowing most of the back of Gaskins head off. The orks body collapsed.

The runner retrieved his rifle from where it lay and stood staring down at the body on the floor.

He tried to feel something inside. Anger, relief, hatred. Anything. None would come.

One last turn of the screw, eh Danny?

Yeah, one last turn. He's paid for what he did Lileth, to you and those others.

But was it enough, my love?

No. Nothing could ever be. A thousand like him couldn’t replace you. He's dead now. Rest easy, Lileth. Your avenged.

Rest easy. You too. Now that this is over, can you learn to live again? You held me whilst I died, but will you ever let go?

I'll never let go. Not in my heart. Not of you.

Even after all that’s happened, I'm still holding on, and I'll never let go.

Nothing I could say can explain how much I miss you Lileth.

I love you.