If You Want Something Done Right – 0.3

If you want something done right – 0.3

Normally, he would have just hired a team of Shadowrunners, the disposable assets of the sixth world.  Mostly SINless, ne'er do wells, with the best qualities… they all wanted Nuyen, and they didn’t care how they earned it.  But this run, this one was special. 

He always understood his role within the organization.  He was only a low level ‘project manager’ with a special focus on ‘additional tasks, not otherwise assigned’, but when the ‘Big Man’ calls you… himself, you best make sure it’s done right.  Besides, it was just the retrieval of a minor corp asset.  If it got too real, he could hire local talent.

For the third time in the past thirty minutes, he pulled up the tracking program, which displayed the RFID, and found it right where it had been for most of the night.

~*CRACK*~

The windshield had instantly polarized when the bolt of lightning landed so close to the speeding Bently, the flash of light and the crack of thunder were united.  It might have even struck the car. 

“Drek that was close!” He said, yelling to himself.

He held both of his hands up in front of him, “look at that!  Steady as a rock!” he said proudly. “Still got it.”

Another flash from a streaking bolt of lightning from further down the road outlined something.  He only caught a flash of an outline.  He placed both of his hands back on the steering wheel now, and began squinting out into the gloom.  At this speed, the thick drops of rain just peeled up and away, but it was so dark.

It was then his world erupted.  Another flash of lightning revealed the single man Wasp helicopter.  Hanging underneath the nose was slung an Ogre Hammer Assault Cannon, already spewing high velocity death.  It chewed up a clean line of cement right at him.  There was no time to think, and he instinctively jerked the wheel to the left, but it was too late.  The 360 gram rounds, impacting at over six hundred and fifty rounds per second it etched a vicious wound from the right fender, through the front tire and engine compartment, shredded the passenger door, and then stitched its path complete through the trunk.

When the front tire disintegrated under the assault, the rim slammed down and dug into the asphalt covered cement, causing the Bentley to vault lazily into the air.  For a few moments, he felt weightless, the tumult of the storm and attack had passed, and he was free.  But when the broken machine returned to earth, it began to tumble violently. Over and over, spewing pieces of metal and plastic over one hundred meters away, until it finally came to a rest on what was left of the roof. Over a half a kilometer from where it first took flight.

For several long moments, he couldn’t tell which way was up.  Not until he saw the small streams of water flowing along the roof above his head, did it click.   Slowly, painfully, he pulled himself out from under the wires and broken glass, and out into the pouring down rain.  The incessant pounding of large drops of cold water, and the oft repeated thunder, frustrated his attempts to find out where his attacker had gone off to. 

It wasn’t until he tried to stand, to try and make a run for it, that he realized that his right leg would not support his weight.  The first time, he went down hard, pushing his face along the debris of the accident, ripping deep lines of fresh cuts into his face and arms.  The second time, he just ended up in a heap.  As he lay there, he heard the angry little bird come screaming in, spitting more death and destruction.  The eruption of asphalt and concrete, and the insanely cacophony of shredding of steel, all around him caused his ears to ring.  He curled up into a fetal position, desperately trying to make himself smaller while waiting for the fatal round to fall.  Somehow, as the sound of the screaming engine and blades faded into the storm, he found himself still alive.  For all the good that did him.

Looking around, there were no city lights on the horizon, not another set of headlights coming or going, just the pouring rain and his destroyed vehicle.  That was when something wore off inside of him.  Intense, searing pain came crashing down on him, especially on his right leg.  Looking down, he saw something that his mind could not immediately grasp.  The lower half of his thigh, to the knee, there was barely anything left.  There were strips of skin and sinew connecting the top and the bottom, but not much else.  His head began to swim.  He unbuckled his belt, and tugged, but all his effort did was to cause him to fall over onto his side.  Sitting up again, he rested against the side of his car.  If it were not for shock settling in, he would have begun to realize the hopelessness of his situation.

That’s when he heard the throaty growl of something approaching.  Wiping the dripping rain out of his eyes he saw what had made such a disturbing sound… in the strobes of the flashes of lightning, he felt fear rise into his throat and as he saw the silhouette of a bear.

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Part - 4

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