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Shooting Stars 24: Chapter 5

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Anne Friedland, code name: Network
Now


         The next couple days were, wonder of wonders, fairly routine.  Minnie crunched a lot of numbers, trying to figure out what Stearns was up to, but concluded that we simply didn’t have enough hard data yet.  Shae managed to get Luke to back off- I still don’t know how she managed that, and neither she nor Luke seemed inclined to tell me- and added some scraps to the police investigation-in-progress.  I gave Shae a new microbug, whimpering to myself at how expensive this operation was becoming.  Sophia got Sadie settled in, Hailey took it upon herself to start tutoring the kid, and it looked like things were starting to die back to a less fevered pitch.

         I finally managed to peel my ass out of my chair, where I discovered that I’d left a permanent impression.  After getting the first real food I’d had in about a day and a half, luxuriating in the shower until the water ran cold, and checking with Minerva to make sure she had everything well in hand, I left my house and headed out to the range.  I stayed until my wrists were sore, firing off round after round with my heavy-ass pistol; I actually prefer to use a cannon to a lighter weapon because of how much easier it is to manage the recoil.

         I got home and managed to take in the local news- I normally just get a précis from Minerva, but it was nice to be able to sit back with a glass of wine and a plate of steaming curry and relax while I let the sound of the talking heads wash over me.

         I fell asleep on the couch.

         The next morning, I got up and checked to see if there were any messages; Minnie informed me that she’d dealt with a few relatively simple matters without waking me.  She was getting better at anticipating my responses and imitating my personality, which was a little worrying.  I told her so, but she reassured me that what she observed of my personality was only being used as a fraction of her core character matrix; she was as fully individual as it was possible for a self-aware digital intelligence to be.

         Someone had planted a little chunk of malware on my personal system; I frittered away half an hour frying it and sending out a little sniffer program of my own design to hunt down the joker who’d designed it in the first place.  If he was good enough to break into my system, I wanted to keep tabs on him in case it were more than just blind chance.  Minnie scoffed at the idea, but, then, Minnie actually incorporates a variety of worms, Trojans, and heuristic viruses as a part of her programming- she likens them to an aggressive immune system- so there’s very little that unnerves her when it comes to code.

         I slipped into comfortable workout clothes and hit the gym.  I worked through a dozen katas, struggling to remember each step precisely, maintaining the rhythm and flow.  It took me a couple tries- I’d been slacking off over the last couple of weeks, apparently- but, after an hour, I felt like I was getting back in the swing of it.  Once I’d built up a good sweat, I hunted up Alessia.  She favored me with a charming smile, then proceeded to kick seven kinds of crap out of me for the next hour.

         I thanked her for her generous instruction and the assorted bruises that I was going to take home to emphasize the lessons, then bought her a coffee at the local Woodchucks.  We talked and laughed for a bit; she rebuffed three different men and a woman who all tried to hit on her.  When the attention was starting to become a bit too much, she got up.

         She looked at me.  “You look like Hell, Anne,” she said.  The corner of her mouth quirked up to mask her concern.

         “Long hours,” I fibbed.

         Alessia snorted, but let it drop.  “Well, try and cut back.  And eat some real-person food.  You’re too damn skinny!”

         “Yes, doc,” I grinned, rolling my eyes.

         “See you Wednesday?”

         I nodded.  “Lord willing,” I agreed.

         I decided to take Alessia’s advice and went out shopping for the remainder of the afternoon.  Once I was away from Alessia’s nearly overwhelming beauty, I started to feel a bit less drab, myself.  I stopped in at Saks and got a new dress and a couple new pairs of jeans, then headed over to Radio Shack to collect some of the less esoteric stuff I used on a daily basis.

         I realized it was starting to get dark, so I picked up a quick Korean beef and rice bowl for dinner, then piled my prizes into the back of my car and headed home.

         I asked Minnie to update me on progress concerning the elusive Professor and his ridiculously powerful girlfriend.  She reported that there was no new information- in fact, there was actually less information than before.

         All of a sudden, I was no longer relaxed.

         “Less information?” I demanded.

         “I am no longer able to access real-time surveillance of the Professor or Magnum Opus,” Minnie informed me.  “Further, on-site records are being altered to make it appear that surveillance is ongoing.  I conclude that we have been discovered and that someone wishes us to believe that we still have the element of surprise.

         “I further conclude that the someone- or someones- is unaware that I maintain redundant systems.  Now that I am aware of the tampering, it is simple enough to determine that interference with my passive surveillance began approximately three hours ago.”

         “Oh,” I said.  I considered that for a moment as I put the remains of my dinner into the refrigerator.  “Shit,” I added.

         I suddenly felt very calm and distant, like I was observing myself from some faraway remove.  “Minerva,” I said, “patch me through to Apollo, Pyrite, Will-O-Wisp, and Hailey.”

         The external power to my house cut out, but I wasn’t too worried about that.  I was more concerned that our attackers- no doubt The Professor and Magnum Opus- might have rigged some sort of signal jammer.  While Minerva was all but omnipresent, signal jammers were the metaphorical equivalent of a blindfold and earplugs to her.

         “You are a go to Will-O-Wisp and Apollo.  No response from Pyrite or Hailey, yet- I’ll keep trying,” Minnie informed me in her cool, professional voice.

         “Guys, I need you,” I said, “I’m at 2451 Chapel Hill Road, near St. Jude’s and I’m under attack, probably Magnum Opus.”

         Apollo’s response was crisp and concise: “On my way.”

         Will-O-Wisp’s response, undoubtedly delayed a fraction of a second by Minnie so that it didn’t overlap Apollo’s, was a bit less reassuring.  “Shit,” she breathed, “Um… I’m coming.  Just… don’t die, okay?”

         “Yeah,” I grunted, “I’ll do my best.”

         I crept over to my front window.  Keeping low, I peered around the side.  It was dark out, the only light a dim radiance from distant streetlights and the faintest glimmer from starlight and the crescent moon.  A light fog coupled with mist sweating off the pavement gave my lawn an ethereal, menacing atmosphere.

         I thought I saw a shape move just past my hedges.

         I felt my heartbeat thundering in my ears and I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths.  There was nitroglycerin in my purse, I reminded myself, along with a pistol.

         A roaring boom was accompanied by a flare of light so bright that it stabbed into my forehead, utterly disorienting me.  I caromed off a chair, smashed my shin into the coffee table and landed sprawled on my face in front of the sofa.  I felt rather than heard the glass of my front window shatter- splinters of razor-sharp glass rained across my back and scored long, thin cuts on my arms and face.

         Flashbang, I realized numbly.  If my assailants followed doctrine, the next thing would be a gas grenade.  I had to get to my feet.

         I couldn’t get to my feet- my inner ear had been thoroughly scrambled by the assault and I was blind, besides.

         I felt the room shake and everything seemed to tilt sideways.  My hand closed on something leather- my purse!- and I dragged it to me.  I managed to dump the contents on the floor and found a handkerchief by touch.  My water bottle had rolled a little ways away, but I managed to recapture it and upended it on the cloth, thoroughly wetting it.

         The wet cloth wouldn’t give me much time, but it might be just enough…

         A large form loomed over me.  He reached down to pick me up and I let him, adding my own force to his as I brought the heel of my hand up hard into his groin.  He went down and I was now, at least for the moment, on my own shaky feet.

         I heard yelling, but it was muffled and indistinct, like I was trying to hear through a padded door.  I could see almost nothing- movements, some very near, but nothing I could identify.  I thought I saw a faint, shimmering outline of a man, but it could also have just been afterimages left over from my stunned optic nerves.

         My foot connected with something solid on the ground in front of me and I stomped down, hard.  I felt something give, so I kicked out with all the force I could muster.  This time, I missed and my toe found the leg of the coffee table.  There was a snap that was audible to me even through the ringing in my ears as my big toe folded in a direction it hadn’t been designed to go.

         I might have screamed- I don’t honestly know.  My downed assailant was not out; he grabbed my base leg in one of his huge paws and yanked, pulling my remaining leg out from under me.

         I had a moment of awful clarity- I just knew that I was going to land hard and it would be all over.  Even if I didn’t manage to crack my skull on something hard, somehow, I’d lost my improvised air filter and the landing was going to force all the air out of my lungs.

         I was completely at their mercy, whoever they were.

***************************************************************************************************************************************

The first thing that I need to say is this: I apologize for being late with this one.  :iconlady-quantum: had the image to me in plenty of time for me to post it, but I was simply too exhausted after my drive to add coherent comments, so I made the unilateral decision to delay until this morning.

I like this section for a number of reasons, especially the way it showcases just how much of a badass normal Network is; unarmed, trapped, very much alone, disoriented and off-balance, and she still manages to take a guy out without so much as breaking stride... or, at least, most of the way out.  Her decision to call in help to her location is also a big step for her, because it means admitting her identity to people she doesn't know intimately, which is a new thing for her.  I also had to consider the question of why she didn't summon Tyche, who she has a prior association with (and who is aware of Network's identities); the real reason was pretty simple- Tyche, for all that she can do, is not capable of superspeed travel- no flight, no hyper running, and no teleportation.

This picture- and all the artwork for Shooting stars- is brought to you by the amazingly talented and lovely :iconlady-quantum:.

Shooting Stars is an epic tale (okay, maybe that's pushing it, but I've always wanted to call something I wrote an epic) taking place in :iconangel-fallsda: and will feature characters by :iconwhisakedjak:, :iconmoxiee:, and an appearance of Esau by :iconsebastianssire:.

All the characters in this section belong to :iconwhisakedjak:.
Hailey Storm (mentioned, but not appearing) belongs to :iconmoxiee:.

You can find the previous section here:

Shooting Stars 23: Chapter 4 by WhisakedJak.
The next section is here: 

Mature Content

Shooting Stars 25: Chapter 5 by WhisakedJak
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Comments16
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Levia-the-Dragon's avatar
Huh, so that wasn't Sterns and Opus who launched this attack on her, interesting...

I am a little confused though by her claim that she likes more powerful handguns because the recoil is easier to manage... so having more of it lets her get into a more personally comfortable system of compensating for it? That wasn't quite clear.