John Wick gave the newcomer an equally humorless smile. "I must say, I didn't expect to see you here," he said.
Now that Hock had introduced them, the host was already moving off while chatting with another partygoer. Kai Leng watched him depart, then moved his eyes back to John. "Well, I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by."
Mackie's voice sounded in John's ear. "Who is it? That voice...fuck, is that him?" The young man's voice took on an edge of panic.
"I got line of sight on Leng," said Kasumi. "Give the word and I'll drop him like a bad habit."
"No way, he's mine," growled Persephone.
"Everyone, stand down," said Shepard in a commanding tone that John knew well from his time in the military. "He's a Cerberus operative, and this is a mission which supports Cerberus. He's not about to go fucking things up."
Leng had a glass of white wine in his hand, and he gave John a smirk as he took a sip. "Is everybody freaking out in your ear?" he asked. "Please give my regards to little Mackie."
John gave Leng his Smile Number Two, which was his I will eat your liver sometime soon smile. "What do you want?"
"You and your little friends. Ms. Lawson keeps making the case that my group needs to become more open and 'heroic', whatever that means. So in that spirit, rather than just retire you when you least expect it, I'm here in person to tell you that your days are numbered."
John leaned back casually. "Everybody's days are numbered. It's just a question of when your number comes up."
"How the fuck did he know we were here?" snarled Mackie. "Did Lawson spill the beans?"
Leng raised his hand and took another gulp of wine. "Oh, and just in case Shepard's listening in he can rest assured that Miranda was a good little XO and didn't tell a soul."
John sipped his own ginger ale and didn't respond.
Leng tilted his head. "Nothing to say?"
"When I've got something to say you'll know it."
John relaxed further while picturing the moves he'd have to make to get his gun out. If Leng made the wrong twitch, he was perfectly ready to blow the bastard's head off and just kick off the whole mess off right here and now.
Instead of twitching, Leng just nodded and gave John a final smile. He strolled off casually and vanished in the milling partygoers.
Kasumi's voice sounded ever so slightly shaky. "If that bastard is done being dramatic, then let's get going. The sooner we're out of this damned place the better."
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True to her word, the guard was out cold but didn't appear to be otherwise harmed. He was propped up against one dark metal wall of the vault entrance. Kasumi wavered into visibility as she fiddled with the vault controls. The vault door was smaller than John expected, only about the size of a standard double door and with a dark metal handle projecting from one side.
"Welcome," said an artificial but feminine voice. "Please identify."
In response Kasumi put a little block of material onto a blank section next to the keypad.
"Thank you, Mr. Hock. Please authenticate."
Kasmui held up her omni-tool and Hock's voice said "Perrugia'."
"Thank you. Authentication accepted."
The vault door clicked. John gripped the handle and the door swung open on jeweled bearings. Kasumi flitted into the space beyond as John followed.
The vault itself was huge, as he expected. But he hadn't expected it to look so structured. It reminded him of an English garden. From Kasumi's dismissal of Hock as a 'hoarder', John half-expected the vault contents to just be haphazardly piled around.
But there were, instead, four aisles running parallel to each other and away from the door. Each aisle had marble blocks spaced out along the length of the aisle. The piece on top of each block was labeled with a neat hand-lettered sign. John took a quick scan of the vault and saw a room towards the center with transparent walls. He could see from here the weaponry lining the walls.
"You know where the graybox might be?" asked John.
Kasumi shook her head. "I'm guessing towards the rear right, but that's a guess."
"I'll detour to the weapons and check 'em over, you look for the box," said John. "I want to be ready to use them, just in case."
The thief nodded and moved silently along the aisle. John followed behind her, admiring her stealth. He knew something about moving silently, enough to know that Kasumi was top-notch.
She broke that silence, stopping suddenly and giving a 'hmph' of surprise. "I don't believe it!" Next to her on one of the marble plinths was a few sheets of loose notebook paper and an orange writing implement. "This is the original copy of the Shanxi cease-fire, at the end of the First Contact War. Complete with what they used to sign it."
John gave it a cursory glance, then did a double-take as he realized what the writing implement was. "They used a pencil to sign a cease-fire?"
Kasumi gave a sad chuckle. "Well, the garrison was in pretty desperate shape by then. It was probably all they had on hand." She shook her head. "This has been missing for ages. Everybody thought it was just lost in the trash somewhere. Anyway, let's keep going."
Fortunately, the smaller 'cage' that held the antique weapons didn't have any further security to bypass. But it did have a little airlock, and as John cycled through it he could hear the hiss of air into the cage beyond. He figured that the weapons must normally be kept under inert gas. Hopefully at least a few would still be in working order.
He stepped into the cage and looked over Hock's collection with a critical eye. The bastard did seem to have a pretty thorough selection here. He ignored the pistols for the moment and instead focused on the shotguns first. They were the least 'fiddly' in terms of firing mechanism and were the most likely to be still operational. He plucked a nice-looking Benelli off of its wall mount and checked it out with practiced fingers. He pronounced himself pleased and looked around for the ammunition.
After a short while John had a good-sized pile of checked and loaded weaponry. He headed off to find Kasumi, leaving party favors behind him in strategic locations as he walked. The thief was staring at an unmarked marble plinth, on top of which was a small gray package. It was no bigger than a deck of cards and sported a small splatter of blood on one corner.
She didn't move, not even after John walked up beside her and set down the Benelli. It was a stupid question, but he had to ask. "Is that it?"
Kasumi slowly nodded. "I don't see any tripwires or pressure sensors. I'm almost afraid to touch it, though. The last remains of Keiji. I can't shake the feeling that it'll pop like a soap bubble...oh, screw it. Let's get it and get out."
She reached forward and grabbed it. The graybox didn't evaporate in her hand, but there was a loud and painful wail in John's ear.
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Shepard grunted a little in surprise at the noise but kept his easy grin on his face as he leaned easily against a pillar. From this position, he estimated that he could reach the security center door in less than five seconds. He uncrossed his feet and got ready to move. This might just be a communications glitch...
"Sir?" The voice was quiet and professional, and its owner was clearly ready for Shepard to try something.
He kept the casual smile on his face and turned. "Yeah?"
Five guards stood in a semicircle, just out of hand-to-hand combat range. The leftmost guard was the only one with his hand on a holster, but the others held themselves as if they'd launch at him with the slightest provocation. They were armored, but not wearing helmets. That was probably to keep from freaking out the party guests around them.
The guard on the left flicked his eyes up and down Shepard. "Mr. Hock would like to speak with you."
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"Shit," muttered Persephone. She could see Shepard across the way and getting braced by the guards. The asari scanned the room in less than a second. There were three waitstaff in possible danger if it came to a firefight. The nearest was only a few steps away, so she took the opportunity to slip in next to the human and mutter "Get lost," into his ear. "Tell the others."
He looked at her in surprise. Persephone jerked her head at Shepard, then out towards the kitchen area. He nodded and sidled off with remarkable speed, pulling one of the others in the danger zone along with him.
That left one to worry about, but she wasn't going to try anything until Shepard made his move.
Her earpiece crackled back into life, and Hock's voice sounded in her ear. "Ah, there's the frequency. Greetings, my unexpected guests."
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John looked up towards the vault door. A huge hologram of Hock's head now floated in the space above the exit, and the man's ever-present smile was now a triumphant leer. "Ms. Goto! So good to see you again. I've activated a shield in the doorway to make sure you stay and take full advantage of my hospitality."
"Rot in hell, you bastard," grated Goto. Her hooded eyes were locked on Hock's hologram. "You certainly haven't lost any of your ego, judging by how big you like to make yourself."
Hock's image gave her an ironic little bow. "I am very aware of my own shortcomings, Kasumi. But one thing I am not is stupid. I suspected that 'Mr. Gunn' was actually Shepard. It certainly looked like him. So I had my guards take a few photos. Our face-recognition VI identified him for certain..."
John rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you're very clever. What do you want?" He was getting real tired of dealing with bloviating idiots. First Leng, now this asshole.
Hock just kept right on talking. "Ah! And then of course there is the mysterious Mr. Hadlock. The VI came up empty in your case. But your 'associate' Mr. Leng told me that you are a person of great interest to Cerberus. I'm sure they'll pay me handsomely for you. Even for your corpse..."
As the guy yammered on John looked around. There was a painting on the plinth opposite the graybox, and he nudged Kasumi. "Is that expensive?" he murmured to her while he pointed at the painting.
"Priceless," she murmured back.
"Right." John marched off towards the exit, searching for one exhibit in particular. He noted that, just as Hock had said, there was a blue shimmer of a shield over the exit. John smiled as he found what he was looking for, retrieved one particular piece of the artifact, and walked back towards Kasumi.
Hock's meandering trailed off as John re-approached the thief. "What are you doing?"
John grabbed the painting from its easel. He looked it over briefly. The painting showed some sort of still-life of flowers or lilies, he couldn't quite tell. It was a little too blurry and impressionistic for his tastes.
"Wait!" yelled Hock. "Don't..."
John gripped the pencil used to sign the Shanxi cease-fire and scribbled 'GET ON WITH IT' in big block letters over the painting. He held it out towards Hock's image. "Get the message, sunshine?" he asked.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The man stared in shock for a few moments, then his face hardened. "Fine. Shepard, I know you can hear me. You've got a choice. You can walk away now and leave your minions here. I can probably fetch a good price for them. Or you come quietly and I'll let them go. You'll be worth even more, especially once I figure out how a dead man was brought back to life."
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Shepard took a deep breath as he smiled at the guards. This ability was still something he was getting used to, and he'd only get one chance to activate it. He hoped that Hock still had his earpiece connected with his team members.
"Plan B, Wick," he said, and went into accelerated time.
The guard on the left must have seen a flicker of movement, because he started to draw. Shepard could see the man's hand begin to ever-so-slowly tug at his gun-handle, and the gun began to rise out of the holster as if mired in molasses.
Everything in Shepard's vision was sharp and clear, like he was viewing the world through crystal. He pulled his own weapon and chose his shots. There were party-goers behind his assailants, and while they were certainly assholes they probably didn't deserve to get shot. Probably.
The first shot went through the leftmost guard's head. The others were just barely starting to react, and for his next shot Shepard chose the one who had reacted the most. Then it was a simple matter of working his way between the guards, shooting whoever showed the most reaction to what was going on. By the time he'd finished, the first guard hadn't even cleared his gun out of his holster and his head was still spreading apart in a popped balloon of blood and bone.
Shepard snapped back into real time, and five bodies fell backwards as the screaming started. He spun and locked his eyes on the door to the security center. It slid open and two men came barreling out, both armored and this time wearing helmets.
One of them managed to raise his gun just as Shepard reached them. He snapped a knife-hand up below the man's chin-strap and into his throat. The cybernetically-enhanced blow crushed the guard's larynx instantly. As the dying man gagged, his partner managed to get his own pistol up and fire it into Shepard's side.
It felt like he'd been rabbit-punched by a krogan. Shepard grunted in pain and threw out a side-kick that smashed into the gut of his would-be shooter. The man's armor was proof against bullets, but not blunt force trauma. The guard collapsed backwards with a wheeze.
"Shut the damn door!" yelled somebody from inside the security center. The door started to slide shut, and it was just out of Shepard's reach. So he grabbed his still-gagging first victim and pushed him into the doorway, stopping the sliding door in its tracks.
Shepard vaulted over the body and into the room beyond. He slid to a crouch behind a console as a shot sparked off of it. He rolled out into the clear and took quick aim. Two more shots, two more dead men. He kept rolling and made it behind a storage locker.
"Call the police! Get them out here now!" Hock's voice sounded out as more shots ricocheted off of the storage locker. He sounded like he was on a speaker; the bastard probably wasn't in here. That was a pity, mused Shepard. It would have made this so much simpler. He leaned out and shot the remaining two guards.
He walked over and pulled the guard's body out of the way to let the door close. Shepard took stock of his side. The suit's fabric was torn, but the armoring underneath wasn't even scratched. "Noice," he muttered. "Very noice." Then he looked at the many control consoles around him. "Now...if I was a shield power switch, where would I hide?"
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"Plan B, Wick," said Shepard's voice into John's ear. John brought the Benelli up to his shoulder as the shield over the doorway winked out. Kasumi faded into invisibility at the same time.
Multiple armored forms poured into the room and the shield snapped back into existence behind them. Wick wondered briefly if he should have chosen a longer-range weapon, then aimed at the guard in front and fired. The Benelli worked like a dream, and as John ejected the first shell the old familiar scent of gunpowder and cordite hit his nostrils.
"I really missed that smell," he muttered, and kept shooting as he ran forward. He slid to a stop and crouched behind one of the marble bases. He leaned out and emptied the Benelli into the doorway, creating a milling confusion of men trying to take cover and blue sparking shields. It was clear that the guards had expected him to have a pistol at best.
John threw the Benelli aside with a little pang of regret. It really was a beautiful shotgun. He reached up to the top of the marble block and fetched the AK-47 he'd stashed there. The other operatives of the Organization might look down their nose at such a 'peasant-like' weapon, but John was looking for reliability instead of style.
And reliability was something the Kalashnikov had in spades. The gun chattered its automatic fire as if it had been shot only yesterday instead of hundreds of years ago. John slipped forward like a wraith, using the rifle to keep the guard's heads down while he moved closer.
He never caught so much as a glimpse of Kasumi. The only way he knew she was there was when the left-most guard suddenly went down and began twitching as if he'd been hit with a taser. The others turned and began firing blindly at the empty space next to the guard, which in turn gave John plenty of opportunity to get in some placed shots in and take down a few more.
As the AK ran dry John made a leaping forward roll to fetch up underneath another base. There was another of his emplaced guns there, a beautiful little M4 carbine that had been nicely kitted out. John felt a presence behind him, and somehow knew it was not Kasumi. He dodged back just as a shot took out a chunk of marble where his head had been.
John swung his carbine over, but the man was close enough to block the barrel with his hand. John flowed around the block and got an armbar on the guard, then used the leverage to smash the man's helmet into the corner of the marble. The man bounced bonelessly and rolled; the helmet had kept his skull together, but hadn't prevented him from getting knocked out. John put a couple of shots into the guard's relatively unarmored neck to make sure, then leaned out from cover to keep adding to the carnage.
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The front of Hock's compound was now a flowing river of screaming people. Persephone brought up the rear; apart from the corpses of guards, there was nobody left on the ground floor. She'd also made sure that the catering staff had been pointed at the service entrance, and they'd taken the offered exit with all possible speed.
"I don't see Hock," she murmured as she pretended to limp behind the panicked crowd.
"He wasn't in the control room," said Shepard's voice. "Wick, how are you doing?"
"Hang on," said John's robotic voice. There was a faint crunching sound in Persephone's ear. "That's the last one. Kasumi?"
"All good, and I've still got the graybox."
Shepard sounded a little uncertain. "Okay, I think I found the right switch for the vault shield. How about this?"
"No, that's the power switch for the lights in here." replied John.
"Ah. Okay, how about now?"
"That's got it," said Kasumi.
Persephone staggered forward down the steps, and had almost made it to ground level before Hock grabbed her arm.
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Donovan Hock was having absolutely the worst day of his life. His things, his precious things, were now right in the midst of a running gun-battle. His expensive guards had been cut down like so much gutter trash from Omega. And the police were, so far, a no-show. One of the caterers, an asari, was hobbling down the steps. He ran up and grabbed her arm. "Is there anybody left in there?" he demanded.
She gave him a panicked look. "I'm not sure about the guests, sir, but I think the staff all got out."
Hock growled and let go of her arm. "Fuck the staff!" He looked into the sky. "Where the hell are they?"
The asari pointed. "There, sir."
A couple of tiny dots in the sky grew and expanded into a pair of shuttles painted in the blue-and-green livery of the Bekenstein police. The panicked guests calmed a bit at the sight of the law arriving, and dutifully cleared an area so that they could land. Most of the guests continued to stream towards the exits, but there were a few curious stragglers who stopped near the main gate to watch. The asari caterer began to sidle off as well.
"No," snapped Hock. "I need you here, in case they have questions for you."
The asari stopped, but from her expression she was clearly close to an emotional collapse.
The shuttles settled to the ground, and their doors slid open to reveal a turian and a human in each shuttle. The figures were all clad in fully-covering police armor and featureless helmets of the same blue-green color scheme as the shuttles. The four jogged up to Hock, who stood at the base of the steps and stared in disbelief.
"FOUR?" screamed Hock. "You just sent four people? Where's Van der Meer? I pay for concierge service, damn it!"
The lead of the group was a turian, and gave Hock a quick nod. "I understand, sir. Van der Meer is on his way, and we were the closest responders. More are coming, I assure you. What is the situation?"
"The situation? My life's work is currently in the hands of barbarians, that's the fucking situation!" Little flecks of spittle from Hock's shouting sprayed onto the smooth and faceless front of the turian's helmet.
The turian's voice remained smooth and calming. "How many perpetrators?"
Hock stared off into space. That calming voice...his brain was starting to work again, and he realized he'd heard the turian's voice before. "Three. One's taken over the security center, two are in the vault."
The turian turned to regard the asari caterer, who hovered nearby with wringing hands. "And you, ma'am? Are you injured?"
"I just turned my ankle. It'll be okay."
"Did you see any of the perpetrators?"
She ran a trembling hand along her crest. "Just the one who took over the security center. You need to be careful. He's fast, really fast."
"All right." The turian pointed at the farther shuttle. "Please wait in there. We'll have a couple more questions, and then we'll get your ankle taken care of."
As she limped towards the shuttle the policeman turned back to Hock. "Sir, we're going to do an initial sweep. It will be safer for you if you also wait in one of our vehicles." The turian gestured at the closer shuttle. "They're well-armored."
Hock glared at the turian. "I'm not going anywhere, this is my house. I'm coming along on the sweep." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol. His suspicions were rising. He had definitely heard this turian's voice before, and it had nothing to do with police work. That voice had something to do with that bastard Shepard, that much he was certain of.
The turian's voice maintained that smooth, unruffled tone. "Now sir, you're not armored. And you are rightfully emotional about what's happened, but that is not a good mind-state for taking on these perpetrators."
Hock stared for a moment at the turian's featureless helmet. "Take off your helmet."
"Sir, this is really not constructive and we need to begin that sweep ASAP..."
Hock pointed the gun at the turian's helmet. "Take off your helmet. I know your voice."
The four police all froze, then the turian shrugged. "If you prefer." He reached up and began to unlatch his helmet.
Hock relaxed slightly, and at that motion the other turian kicked out towards Hock's gun-hand. It was a fast and efficient kick, but the man was already amped up and suspicious. He dropped his arm, turned slightly, and fired a shot at his attacker.
As befitted an arms smuggler, Hock's pistol was top of the line. The police hadn't activated their shields, and so the bullet punched through the armor of his attacker's leg. The turian gave a pained grunt and collapsed, and Hock sprinted back up the steps while spraying fire behind him.
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Shepard was glad to hear his old friend's voice again. However, what Garrus was saying was not so good. "Shit. John? Hock smelled a rat. He's coming back in."
"Righty-ho," replied Shepard as he finished smashing the last control console to bits. The security room's thick door slid open as he did so; the destruction must have triggered a safety feature.
The commander walked to the corner and carefully edged his head around. He saw John Wick's dark-suited form edge up out of the tunnel leading to Hock's vault. There was no sign of Kasumi, of course.
Wick ducked back down as a bullet sparked off of a column next to him.
Hock's voice called out. "I'm going to kill all of you!"
Shepard smiled to himself. Brave talk for one man with only one gun and no armor. He edged his whole body out and around the corner, looking back towards the main entrance. Shepard scanned carefully and saw a flicker of movement behind a large potted plant.
"I got him," said Wick.
"Me too," said Shepard. "Howzabout on the count of three? One, two..."
On 'three' a fusillade of shots hit the pot that Hock was using as cover. Shepard saw the flickering blue of an emergency shield snap into place, and Hock charged out and ran diagonally across the main corridor. The smuggler sprayed bullets up towards the two of them as he ran.
Shepard was leaning out a little too far as he tried to aim his shots, because as he did so one of Hock's bullets bounced off of his arm. It threw his aim off enough for Hock to get to an alcove. As Shepard ran forward, he saw Hock slip into a door within the alcove and saw the man running away as the door slid shut.
He looked down at his arm as Wick jogged up to him. The bullet had torn away the sleeve's fabric, but once more the armor underneath looked unblemished.
Shepard grinned at the assassin. "I changed my mind. I love this suit!"
Wick smiled and nodded. "Hock?"
"Went through that door there. I say we leave him and get going."
"I agree," said Kasumi as she appeared beside Wick. "I don't think many will be accepting party invitations from him after this."
Wick tossed aside the odd antique gun he'd been using. It was probably worth several years' salary to most people. "You sure you don't want to keep that?" asked Shepard.
The assassin shook his head. "Nah. No ammo left for it, and I'm not much of a collector."
The trio jogged for the entrance.
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Outside, the four 'police' had removed their helmets. Cammy sat on the ground while Mackie and Persephone tended to her leg. Garrus and Bast were keeping watch on the two or three onlookers remaining.
"That little bareface was fast," said Cammy. "Did ya kill him?"
"Didn't get the chance," said Shepard. "We should be offski. Garrus, you got the other shuttle?"
Garrus did not like the sound of that question, because it implied something that still gave him night-sweats. He gave his human friend a look that was the turian equivalent of a raised eyebrow. "And who's piloting the other one? Cammy's out of commission."
"I can do that," said Bast.
"Nah, I got it," replied Shepard with a sunny smile.
Garrus' concern deepened at that smile. "Really, John, I don't know if...oh dear."
Shepard had by now clambered up into the farther shuttle and seated himself in the pilot's seat. Cammy got loaded in next, and her two tenders jumped in as well, followed by Kasumi. The door slid shut and the shuttle began to rise.
"What's wrong with Shepard piloting?" asked Bast.
Garrus remembered many, many harrowing times in the Mako. "Well, Shepard is a better pilot than he is a driver. But that's a low bar to clear." He shook his head. "All right, let's get going."
He and Bast hopped in the remaining shuttle, with Wick following. The assassin slid the door shut as their craft took off and began to follow Shepard's' shuttle.
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"How's she doing?" Shepard called into the back of the shuttle.
"I'll live," replied Cammy. "But I'm not gonna be dancing any time soon."
"Eh, dancing is overrated," said Shepard. He allowed himself to relax a little. Kasumi sprawled herself into the co-pilot's seat and looked even more relaxed.
"Congratulations," she said. "You've got yourself a thief for however long you need her." She gave the commander a thoughtful look. "Unless the mighty Shepard doesn't stoop to stealing things."
"Depends on what it's for," replied Shepard. "And I can already think of a few area where we'll need your skills. Our ship is still more-or-less a prototype, so spare parts are always going to be a problem."
"That sounds like fun," said Kasumi. She smiled and looked out the window.
Shepard glanced down at the radar display and his good mood evaporated. "Shit on toast."
Kasumi sat up. "What?" She followed Shepard's gaze to the the display and leaned closer. "That can't be right. What's a gunship doing behind us...?" Then the penny dropped. "Oh, no."
Shepard punched open a channel to the other shuttle. "Garrus, watch your ass. Hock is on our tail."