Rubi: Revisited First 800 Words

     Rubi Rascke woke up to the startling vibrato of an operatic soprano; her emerald eyes popped open.She ran her fingers through her inky black hair; a red streak framed her face.

open. She sat up and stretched, yawning loudly she looked around her. She threw back the sheets. A swallow was tattooed on her left hip. A spiral of branches dotted with thorns, and toped with roses wrapped around her right leg and up to her hip. A series of lines mimicking the design of a motherboard circuit crisscrossed her right shoulder and a line of Cyrillic characters were placed vertically on her left forearm, translated the message read, "The sin our fathers sinned was that they did not trust liberty wholly”.
     For a second she didn’t know where she was, but as her mind began to clear she remembered the previous night. She swung her legs over the bed and began to feel around the floor for her clothes. She found her underwear and her acid washed jeans, but she couldn’t find her shirt. What the fuck, she thought. She stumbled to the door control and hit the open button.  The door slid open She could smell food cooking and she was hit by the full force of the music, she recognized it as Richard Wagner’s “Götterdämmerung”. Danielle and her fucking classical music, thought Rubi.

     “Jesus Christ…” she mumbled. She found her way to the InfoScreen and turned the music down.

     “Hey! I was listening to that!” came a voice from behind her. She turned around. A young woman with cropped brunette hair stood in the doorway that opened into the kitchen. She wore the standard issue camouflage pants of the Planetary Colonial Defense Force, which were unbuttoned and hung low around her hips, and a Kindstod, band shirt. Rubi recognized the shirt immediately.

     “ What are you doing with my shirt?” she grumbled.

     “Why did you turn off my music?” asked Danielle.

     “Don’t change the subject!” hissed Rubi. Danielle rolled her golden eyes.

     “I like it,” commented Danielle, “And I thought that wearing the shirt of the person that slept with you, is like planting a flag.” Rubi couldn’t disagree with her, Danielle did look good in the shirt. Despite her current state of dress, Danielle usually leaned more towards the feminine side of things; pretty make-up, dresses and heels were her style. Rubi often teased her about how she was only marine that liked to be pretty.

     “That’s for, like… the first couple of times you fuck someone!” stated Rubi, “Not after you’ve been dating them for almost a year and a half!” Danielle slid up to Rubi and wrapped her arms around her. Danielle was much shorter than Rubi and her face pressed against Rubi’s breasts. 

     “You like it, don’t lie baǒ-beì!” exclaimed Danielle, looking up into Rubi’s eyes. Rubi grinned and kissed her. 

     “You do look really cute,” complimented Rubi. 

     “Xièxiè!” grinned Danielle, “Come on, I have breakfast cooking.” Rubi allowed herself to be lead into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and scrambled eggs filled her nose. 

     “How did you get this?” marveled Rubi. Meat was expensive, due to its extensive manufacturing process.

     “The perks of being a marine! The government wants us to be healthy and protein just doesn’t cut it,” grinned Danielle as she slid the bacon and eggs onto a plate, and handed it to Rubi. Rubi rarely got to taste real meat and she savored the bacon as it melted in her mouth.

     “Ooohh…” purred Rubi, “It’s soooooo good!” Danielle simply smiled and served herself. The ate in relative silence and when they were finished they each dropped the plates into the dishwasher.

     “What time is it?” asked Rubi. Danielle looked up as if the time was displayed on the ceiling tiles.

     “Six-ish, abouts?” she guessed. 

     “Oh shit! I’m going to be late!” shouted Rubi, “Gimme my shirt!” Danielle pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to Rubi. Rubi caught it, but before she could pull it on she became distracted by Danielle’s toned body. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts were perky and smooth.

     “Rubi! You don’t have time to admire the scenery!” scolded Danielle. This brought her back to meat-space. She pulled the shirt over her head and skidded back into the bed room. She found her holster and pistol and tucked it into her waist band and hurriedly ran her belt through the loops. She skittered back into the living room and began to pull on her boots; hopping around on one foot. She pulled on her leather jacket whose lapels were studded with badges and pins, and slung her messenger bag over her shoulder. She gave Danielle a quick kiss before pulling her respirator over her mouth and nose and sprinting out the door. Once in the elevator she pulled her earbuds out of her pocket, hurriedly untangling them she put them in her ears and chose a playlist from her mobile terminal.

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #9

<<Previous

      Rubi and Cal found themselves in a quiet bar along East Washington Street. It wasn’t very big and was in the basement of an restaurant. Futbol highlights were being displayed on the info-screen. Being in the middle of the week not many people where there. Rubi and Cal sat on the far end of the bar against the wall. Rubi sipped on a pint of beer and Cal had a White Russian clutched in her hand; their eyes were fixed on the soccer game. At the end of the bar opposite to where Rubi and Cal were sitting was a young woman, college aged. She was a brunette, her wavy hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was thin and young. She wore a v-neck shirt with the motion ‘W’, of the University of Wisconsin emblazoned on the front, and an unzipped sweatshirt. Rubi’s eyes shot over to the girl periodically, after while Cal began to notice.

      “Whatchu looking at?” asked Cal, looking where Rubi was looking. She noticed the girl and spun her head back to Rubi, grinning. Rubi looked at her.

      “What?” 

      “You think she’s cute, don’tcha!” grinned Cal.

      “What? No!” exclaimed Rubi.

      “Yeah you do!” Cal gave Rubi a toothy grin.

      “Shut up!” growled Rubi into her glass.

      “I’m going to go talk to her!” quipped Cal, spinning around on the stool.

      “No! Wait!” cried Rubi, “Shit.” She turned to her drink as Cal bounced over the the girl. Rubi watched Cal introduce herself and strike up a conversation. Rubi got the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a scotch, double, no ice.” The bartender poured the drink for Rubi. As Rubi took the glass she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over. The girl was coming over. Shit… 

      “Mind if I sat down?” she asked.  Rubi shook her head. “I’m Dani. Your friend said that I should come talk to you”, said the girl. God damn it Cal, thought Rubi. She shot a dirty look towards Cal, who only gave her a toothy grin and a thumbs up. Rubi looked down into her glass. Rubi’s eyes flashed up at the girl. The girl smiled at her. Rubi struggled for words, leaving them in an awkward silence.

      “So, Dani? Is that short for something?” grumbled Rubi, taking a swig.

      “Yeah, Danielle.” 

      “Cool,” muttered Rubi.

      “What about you?” asked Ella,”What’s your name?

      “Uhhh… Rubmm,” gurgled Rubi into her glass.

      “Rubi?” asked the girl.

      “Yeah,” muttered Rubi. An awkward silence descended on them. Rubi sipped on her scotch.

      “I like your jacket,” quipped Dani. Rubi grunted. “So, you like Kindstod?” asked the girl, referring to one of the patches on Rubi’s jacket. 

      “Yeah. They’re one of my favs,” replied Rubi. She glanced over to the girl sitting next to her, “You don’t look like someone who would enjoy that kind of music,” she noted. The girl shrugged.

      “My older brother got me into it. He was really big on the whole ‘anti-culture’ idea,” mentioned Dani.

      “Cool,” said Rubi, “You a student or something?”

      “Yeah, I’m about to start my senior year. What about you?” asked Dani.

      “I work.” 

      “What do you do?” questioned the girl. Rubi hesitated. I can’t tell her that I’m a runner… She’ll probably freak out. Uh… Say something!

      “Computers,” she blurted, “I work with computers.”

      “Software or hardware?” asked Dani.

      “Both,” replied Rubi. 

      “Cool! My degree is in Graphic Design and Programing.” Dani looked at her watch, “Oh! It’s getting late, I gotta get going!” She pulled a pen from her pocket, and scrawled her CommNet address on a napkin. “Give me a buzz sometime alright?”

      “Sure,” muttered Rubi.

      “Have a good night!” The girl smiled and headed towards the door. Cal bounded over, her smile spreading ear to ear. She jumped atop the stool. Rubi glared at her.

      “Suka,” hissed Rubi. Cal opened her mouth in mock offense.

      “How could you!” She grinned, “You got her digits! Come on. You owe me a thanks.”

      “Why?” asked Rubi.

      “Because with out me, you would never have even talked to her!” Cal pointed out.

      “Yeah, I guess your right. Thanks,” said Rubi sheepishly.

      “I’m always happy to play wingman for you,” grinned Cal. She wrapped her arm around her friend and gave her a loose hug.

--------------

Please support me on Patreon! Donations are on a monthly basis, so you can make sure you don't go over your carefully constructed budget! Every donation is a step to my goal of being able to write full time! Help me realize my goal here!

Picture Source: Evey Dantès
Check out her Facebook Page here!

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #8

<<Previous

     The Saloon Tavern was jam packed when Rubi and Cal arrived. All sorts of runners where sitting about swapping stories and getting drunk. Rubi spotted Wynnefred chatting up a muscular man with dreadlocks and tattoos. She seemed pretty drunk. Harlot, thought Rubi. They headed towards the stairs, weaving in and out of the tables. They garnered several cat calls from the drunken patrons, men and women. Rubi blushed, looked to the floor and hurried towards the stairs. Cal on the other hand, blew kisses to the cat-callers. They headed up the stairs and stepped up to Madame Loxi’s office door. Rubi pressed the button on the intercom. It buzzed. The screen flashed and showed the feed from the security camera.

     “Yes?” came Madame Loxi’s harsh voice.

     “We have the goods,” said Rubi. There was another buzz followed by a metallic click. Rubi pulled open the door and she and Cal stepped in. 

Madame Loxi looked up from her monitor when Rubi and Cal entered.

     “Ah, Rubi! How was it? Not too hard I hope,” queried Madame Loxi. 

“We got some static. But it was nothing we couldn’t handle,” said Rubi. She flinched as she slid her backpack off. The anesthetic from the bio foam began to wear off. She pulled her lap top from the bag placed it on the desk and opened the screen. Rubi moved the stolen data to a disc and began to burn the information. Once the process was completed she ejected the disk and handed it to Madame Loxi. “That’s everything,” said Rubi. Madame Loxi inserted the disk into her computer and began to look over the files. 

     “Well done Miss Rascke,” congratulated Madame Loxi, “I’ll transfer the funds to your respective accounts.” 

     “Wiz,” said Rubi. She and Cal turned and left the office. Once they were outside Cal turned to Rubi.

     “So, You up for a drink? I’m paying” she asked, holding up her credcard. 

     “I don’t know,” muttered Rubi, stepping to the railing and looking down into the crowded bar. Cal slid her arm around Rubi’s. 

     “Awww, come on!” pleaded Cal. A burst of pain shot up Rubi’s arm as Cal tugged on it. She yelped. “Oh! Sorry!” apologized Cal, letting go of Rubi.

     “Could we go to a different bar?” asked Rubi. 

     “Sure!” smiled Cal. They left the bar and headed onto the streets.

--------------

Please support me on Patreon! Donations are on a monthly basis, so you can make sure you don't go over your carefully constructed budget! Every donation is a step to my goal of being able to write full time! Help me realize my goal here!

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #7

<<Previous 

     Rubi and Cal drew many strange looks on the metro; two girls wearing dark clothes with bright hair, completely soaked, and smelling of diesel and harbor water is not a common site. They got off the train, leaving a grayish puddle behind them. The walked up out of the metro station and onto the street.

     “So, To the Union?” asked Cal, “Because we missed that stop.” The pair began walking down the sidewalk. Billboards flashed advertisements in several languages.

     “I figured we would dry off and and change before that,” suggested Rubi.

     “So your place then? You still got my clothes?” asked Cal.

     “Yeah,” said Rubi, biting her lip.

     “What?” said Cal, looking at her friend, slightly worried.

     “I might have borrowed your underwear at one point.”

     “What, the white ones, with the bow, and the little grey cat on the hip?” questioned Cal. Rubi cracked a grin, her lip still between her teeth. “I’ve been looking for those!” exclaimed Cal.

     “They’re so cute!” replied Rubi.

     “I KNOW! That’s why I was looking for ‘em!” shouted Cal.

     “I washed em okay!?” 

     “Alright… As long as I get them back!” growled Cal.

     “I always give them back! It’s you who has the bad habit of keeping clothes!” reminded Rubi, “You still have my fishnets.”

     “Yeah yeah. Okay, touche.” 

     Rubi’s apartment was a small studio on the top floor of the building. It had a nice view of the cityscape. The kitchenette sink was full of dirty dishes. The apartment was nearly void of any furniture, except for the dresser and computer desk and chair. Her mattress laid on the floor next to cinderblock and plywood shelving which was crammed full of software cases, and random cords and wires. A stereo system with a record player sat next to the shelves. A pair of stereo headphones laid next to the speakers and a pair of milk crates that sat nearby were full of vinyl records; Rubi enjoyed the vintage sound of the records. A chipped metal door labeled, “WC,” opened into the apartments bathroom.

     The computer desk was the most organized part of the apartment. The whole desk was clear of any sort of trash. The 42” monitor displayed a stylized screensaver depicting what could be interpreted as a electricity running through a circuit board, a headset hung off one side of the monitor. The CPU was black with red highlights that gave off a soft glow. The keyboard was black, with backlit keys, and the mouse was sleek and ergonomic. They dropped their backpacks onto the floor near the door.

     “You wanna take a shower first?” asked Rubi, “I’ll send a secure message to Madame Loxi.” 

     “Sure, Where are my clothes?” asked Cal.

     “Top drawer,” said Rubi, gesturing to the dresser. Cal stepped up to the drawer and pulled out a t-shirt, the pair of panties they had discussed earlier, a pair of socks and some jeans. As Cal headed towards the bathroom Rubi pushed her desk chair aside and stood at the computer desk. She wiggled the mouse and woke up the computer. The screen saver faded to a welcome screen. In the bottom right corner a message read, “FalkeOS v.5.1.6” A message in the middle read, “Welcome Back, RedLady”. Below was a rectangle that read in greyed out letters, “Password???” She selected it and typed in a fifteen character password. The screen flashed “Password Accepted”. It then faded to display her desktop. The background was a green hill with blue skies and white clouds, a seldom site in the world today. It was from an old operating system from 2001. She opened up console. The desktop faded from rolling hills to a black screen with white sans-serif text.

     # app/webmail/startup/config.yml

     // … starting webmail.exe

     #message = new \secure message;

     // … preparing message input

          // transport => smtp

          // encryption => ssl7

          // auth_mode => login

          // host => smtp.dwimordene.int (secure)

     // username?

     # redlady

     // password?

     # b9-uhrxWx-Ba66f8#EHM=TT

     // login secure…

     // new message…

     # message= \swift message::new instance

     #setsubject => Run Complete

     # setFrom => redlady@dwimordene.secure

     # setTo => valar@dwimordene.secure

     # setbody => run complete. Target secured. Bring in tonight.

     # webmail/cmd: send.

     // … message sent

     Rubi ran her fingers through her soaked hair. She rubbed the tips of her fingers feeling the grease that she pulled from her hair. She made a face, shivered and wiped her hand on her pants. She looked around her apartment. She pulled off her jacket and began to unlace her boots. She tossed them to the floor and pulled off her socks. Next came her shirt, she had to peel it off her body. This joined the jacket and boots on the floor. She stood in the middle of the room in her sports bra. A series of lines mimicking the design of a motherboard circuit crisscrossed her right shoulder and a line of Cyrillic characters were placed vertically on her left forearm, translated the message read, “The sin our fathers sinned was that they did not trust liberty wholly.” She pulled open the top drawer and pulled out a can of biofoam. She placed the nozzle on her wound and pushed down. The wound stung and then went numb. She jumped when the bathroom door opened and Cal came into the room, completely dry and holding a crumpled ball of her wet clothes. 

     “Shower’s all your’s” said Cal. 

     “I sent Madame Loxi a message. Can you watch it for me?” asked Rubi. Cal nodded. She walked over to the chair, plopped down and spun around. Rubi walked to the dresser and began pulling clothes out. She headed towards the bathroom. She flipped the faucet of the shower as far as it would go. She looked in the mirror above the sink and ran her hands through her hair. Her hair was a tangled mess.The mirror began to steam up from the shower. She unbuckled her belt, tucking her thumbs in the waist band she slid them down her thin but muscular legs. A swallow was tattooed on her left hip. A spiral of branches dotted with thorns, and toped with roses wrapped around her right leg and up to her hip. She pulled of the sports bra and a gush of water that had been trapped in the spandex ran down her stomach. She stepped in to the shower and closed the frosted glass door behind her. The steaming water flowed over her thin pale body. It was an extreme contrast to the cold lake water. She lathered the shampoo in her hair and then proceeded to wash her body. She had no body hair, due to the hair removal procedure she got herself for her eighteenth birthday. When she was satisfied with her shower she turned off the water and pressed a small red button on the wall with three squiggly lines above it. Jets of warm air hit her body, and caused her hair to slap her in the face. When the air had stopped she was completely dry. She steeped out of the shower and looked in the now clear mirror. The shower had caused her eye make up to run. She squirted a clear fluid into her palm from the dispenser on the wall, and splashed it on her face. She then reached for a towel and wiped her face. The fluid had completely cleared her face of make up. She ran a brush through her hair. Once she had fixed her hair she applied a thin line of eyeliner, nothing too complex. She pulled on her clothes and stepped out of the bathroom.

     “She responded. Gave us the green light,” said Cal.

     “Shiny! You ready to go?” asked Rubi, pulling on some high-top canvas sneakers.

     “Yeah. It’ll be good to be paid,” smiled Cal.

--------------

Picture source: https://imgur.com/gallery/EOWGauJ

Please support me on Patreon! Donations are on a monthly basis, so you can make sure you don't go over your carefully constructed budget! Every donation is a step to my goal of being able to write full time! Help me realize my goal here!

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #6

<<Previous

     They crawled through the venting. They came to a grate and Cal pushed it open. They slipped into a dark room. As they stood up they squinted as the lights flashed on. As they looked around they took in rows of single motor speed boats. 

     “What the fuck? Are there boats on boats now? Fuckin’ rich people,” spouted Cal.

     “Must be boat-ception,” giggled Rubi. Cal glared at her friend.

     “That is such a dated reference,” she scolded.

     “What?” grinned Rubi, “I thought it was funny.” Cal rolled her eyes.

     “Let’s get going. I don’t like how bright this room is,” whispered Cal

     “One sec,” said Rubi, dropping to her knee and slinging her backpack to the floor.

     “What are you doing? This isn’t the time for a picnic!” Cal hissed. Rubi ignored her and began to rummage through her back. “HELLO!? Are you listening to me?” growled Cal. Rubi pulled what looked like a pair of scuba masks out of the bag and tossed on to Cal, who fumbled with it. “What’s this for?” she asked.

     “Going for a swim!” said Rubi, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. They jumped as the door swung open. Three mercenaries burst in.

     “THERE THEY ARE!” shouted one. The room echoed with gunfire as Rubi and Cal ducked behind the boats.

     “What now!? They got us pinned down.” shouted Cal. Rubi’s head spun around. She noticed the yellow and black tape against one wall. That must be access to the lake, thought Rubi. She scanned the room for an activation switch. 

     “Where is it?” she growled.

     “Where is what?” shouted Cal, her voice cracking with stress.

     “The control panel!” replied Rubi.

     “WHAT CONTROL PANEL!?” 

     “The one that opens the ramp!” said Rubi. Her voice unusually calm for their current situation. She poked her head around the boat. She pulled it back just as a hail of bullets sparked against the hull of the boat. She drew her pistol, ejected the magazine and checked the capacity. 

     “Der’mo, I only got to rounds left,” she grumbled.

     “What?! You didn’t think to to bring more!?” said Cal exasperated. 

     “Umm… No,” stated Rubi.

     “Oh you glupaya devchonka!” hissed Cal.

     “Zatknis' ! I’m thinking!” spat Rubi. The shots halted. One of the mercenaries started speaking in a harsh, ancient sounding, yet singsongy language. 

     “Hreyfa í kring. Flank thá,” commanded one of the mercenaries. The sounds of boots on the floor echoed. 

     “I think they are trying to flank us,” whispered Cal.

     “Net der'mo. How many shots do you have?” hissed Rubi. Cal ejected the magazine and tucked it into her pocket. She withdrew another magazine and slapped it in. 

     “Eighteen,” said Cal. Rubi smiled.

     “Cover me.” Rubi popped out of her hiding spot, taking the mercenaries by surprise. Cal jumped out too, pointing her pistol at the closest mercenary. He leveled his rifle, but Cal was quicker. She threw two rounds into his shoulder, knocking him spinning, to the ground. Rubi ran towards the other one. The mercenary got of a couple of shots, one impacted Rubi’s arm. She didn’t notice, the adrenaline was pumping through her blood. She tackled mercenary to the floor, knocking of their helmet. It was a woman with a shaved head and slightly pointed ears. Her eyes were two fires. She swung a punch, hitting Rubi in the mouth. Rubi tasted iron. Her jaw was throbbing. Black spots appeared in her vision. She shook her head and swung the butt of her pistol down, impacting the woman’s temple. The woman’s eyes fluttered shut and her body relaxed. Rubi heard two more shots as she struggled to her feet. Someone ran over to her. Cal grabbed her and held her up. Her blue eyes were glistening with worry. 

     “You okay?” she croaked.

     “Y-yeah… J-j-just gimme a sec,” stammered Rubi, “H-h-hit duh b-b-button.” Rubi pointed to the console on the far wall. Cal sat her friend down on the floor and ran over to the console and pressed the green button. Orange caution lights began to flash as the door began to open. Rubi sat there, her head spinning. She closed here eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths. Her head stopped spinning and she stood slowly.  The smell of the the marina flooded the room. Cal ran back over to Rubi, a look of worry on her face.

     “What?” asked Rubi.

     “You’re bleeding,” said Cal, pointing to Rubi’s arm.

     “It’s just a graze, I’ll be fine. It’s not like there’s sharks in the lake,” said Rubi with her signature sideways grin. Cal smiled, glad that her friend was making jokes. Rubi pulled on her rebreather.

     “You ready?” asked Rubi. Cal nodded and pulled the mask over her face. They stepped towards the hatch and towards the bay. Just as they had reached the edge of the ramp seven more mercenaries burst into the room.

     “Der’mo! Go!” shouted Rubi. They dived into the lake. The water was colder than they expected. The heads-up display of the rebreathers showed the water tempature as 73º.The sound of bullets whizzing through the water was surreal. They dove deeper into the lake, lights on the sides of the masks flickered on. The water muffled the sounds around them. Rubi’s arm began to sting as they swam through the murky and polluted water.They finally surfaced just outside of the marina, about fifty meters from a beach. They pulled of their masks and collapsed, breathing heavily on the littered sand. Rubi crawled to her friend, and pushed her cardinal locks behind her ear.

     “Told you we would be find,” smiled Rubi.

     “Yeah… Yeah you did,” grinned Cal, “But I’m not using the zip-line again, poymite?”

     “No promises," smirked Rubi.

--------------

Once again, Sorry about the god awful translations! I figure that the languages would change around and evolve so they wouldn't be completly accurate. I would love to have accurate translations but I don't have the contacts yet. Maybe when these stories get published! *fingers crossed*

Picture Source: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/226/7/a/incognito_shadowrun_6_by_pressf7-d6i4r35.jpg

Please support me on Patreon! Donations are on a monthly basis, so you can make sure you don't go over your carefully constructed budget! Every donation is a step to my goal of being able to write full time! Help me realize my goal here!

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #5

<<Previous

     The wind whipped Rubi’s hair in her face as she whizzed down the zip-line towards the yacht. Fuck, I should have put my hair back, she thought. She released her grip on the trolley and landed smoothly on the deck. She pulled her hair out of her face and drew her pistol. Cal landed next to her. She was visibly shaking.

     “I told you, I fucking hate heights!” hissed  Cal.

     “You are fine!” shot Rubi.

     “I nearly pissed my pants!” spat Cal,

     “Let’s not fight!” whispered Rubi.

     “Fine,” pouted Cal. Rubi glanced around the deck, which was surprisingly void of life. 

     “Come on. Lets find the server room,” whispered Rubi.  They slipped inside a door and into a finely furnished hallway. Rubi looked around.

     “Wow. Totally didn’t expect this,” she murmured.

     “It’s a fucking yacht! What did you expect?” hissed Cal, “Besides, who the shit hides important information on a yacht?”

     “I don’t know? Rich people?” snarked Rubi. Cal scowled. They navigated through the various rooms and hallways of the yacht.

     “Where are the trigs that are supposed to be guarding this place?” questioned Cal.

     “I dunno,” replied Rubi. They came to door labeled ‘Server Room’. Rubi opened the door and they slipped inside. 

     The server room was freezing. They shivered as they stepped in and shut the door.

     “Why the hell was it that easy?” hissed Cal.

     “I don’t know! Let’s not push our luck. Watch the door,” said Rubi. Cal drew her pistol and cracked the door slightly. Rubi pulled her hair back into a short ponytail, slipped her backpack off and pulled out her laptop. 

     “Wait! Here’s the ice-breakers,” said Cal handing Rubi a flash drive. Rubi snatched the flash drive and plugged it into her laptop. She opened the files and transferred the programs to her laptop. She then pulled open one of the server cabinets and plugged her laptop in. Her fingers flew across the keys as lines of code flashed on the screen. A prompt appeared for a password. Rubi took a deep breath and began to run a code breaking program. Numbers and letters flashed on the screen in varying combinations. After about fifteen seconds the words ‘Access Granted’ flashed in green letters. Rubi exhaled in relief. She then began to access the archives stored on the server. She entered a series of commands followed by the date ‘1.1.2043’. A window opened with the message, ‘ALERT! INCOMING IC!’

     “Yebat’! Yebat’!” swore Rubi. She entered in commands to run the ice-breaker programs.

     “What’s going on?” whispered Cal. Rubi didn’t respond; she was completely focused on the computer screen. The ice-breaker program activated and another message came up on the screen. ‘IC Attack halted.  Warning: Local Security has been informed.’ 

     “Der'mo ! Verkhovaya trakhat', sobaka sosaniye, der'mo!” she shouted.

     “WHAT’S GOING ON!” cried Cal.

     “We are about to get some static! Get ready!” Rubi began to run the program to copy the files to her laptop. A progress bar appeared on the screen. She drew her pistol and pulled back the slide. Voices could be heard in the hallway outside. Cal, pulled a flash bang grenade from her jacket pocket. Her fingers on the pins, she looked at Rubi.

“You ready to rock and roll?” she asked. Rubi nodded with her devilish grin. Cal pulled the pins on the grenade and tossed it into the hall.The was a blinding flash and a deafening bang. Rubi flung open the door and leveled her pistol. There were two men in ballistic armor and black combat fatigues in the hall. She quickly dispatched them with a pair of well aimed shots. She slammed the door. 

     “Nice shot!”

     “Spasibo!” thanked Rubi. Her eyes shot to the progress bar on her screen, it was almost halfway full. Come on! Go faster, she pleaded. “Cal, de-rezz anyone else who shows up.”

     “Khorosho,” said Cal. Rubi stepped over to the laptop.

     “Come on! Come on!” she pleaded as the progress bar gradually filled. There were the crackle of gunfire of and the sound of ricochets. 

     “Der’mo! I missed,” cried Cal. The progress bar filled and Rubi slammed the screen shut, nervously unplugged the cords and threw the laptop into her backpack. “How the fuck are we going to get out of here?” shouted Cal. Rubi spun around, surveying the room. She spied an air vent that was 3ft x 3ft. She walked up to it, aimed her pistol at the screws holding the vent to the wall and shot them. The vent fell to the floor with a clatter. 

     “Here! We can get through the vents!” she called. Cal sprung from where she was crouched by the door and dove into the vent. Rubi climbed in behind her.As they climbed away from the server room they could hear the trigger-men in the server room. Rubi couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she assumed it had something to do with the fact that she and Cal were in the vents.

Picture Source: http://faceplantreview.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/dtrapacebetter.jpg

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #4

<<Previous

     The marina was a thicket of masts and boats. It was a clear night and the moon was reflected in Lake Michigan’s placid surface. The smell of diesel mixed with water permitted everything.  Rubi was perched atop a condominium building over looking the marina. She wore a black leather jacket, black shirt. Her green eyes scanned the marina. She looked down and unzipped the backpack at her feet. She pulled a pair of goggles and slipped them over her eyes.  The googles flashed a heads up display. She zoomed in and began to take a closer look at the boats floating in the harbor. After about ten minutes of searching she finally spotted the Direct Deposit. She tagged it with a waypoint. She spotted some people on the deck of the ship. She zoomed and focused. There was a man leaning on the railing of the ship. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from a tactical vest, withdrew one, put it in his mouth and lit it. She spotted an assault rifle hanging on his shoulder. She switched the goggles to thermal. She adjusted the setting to high. Eerie white, yellow, and red silhouettes appeared on the ship. She counted twelve people all with rifles. She pulled off the goggles, turned around and slid to the gravel rooftop. Shit. This is going to be a hard one, she thought. She pulled an e-cig out of her jacket. The end glowed with a neon blue light as she took a drag on it. She checked her watch, 23:49:20. She exhaled, the vapor hung in the humid air. Where the fuck is Cal?! She heard the roof access door open. She drew her pistol and moved silently over to where the door was. Cal stepped through the door, a backpack and duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Rubi let down her guard. She stepped out from her hiding spot and approached Cal. 

     “Cal!” she hissed, “Where the fuck have you been?!” 

     “I was finishing up the ice-breakers!” whispered Cal. 

     “Did you bring the stuff I asked you too?” asked Rubi. 

     “Yeah!” said Cal, gesturing to the duffle bag. 

     “Good!” Rubi led her over to the parapet overlooking the marina. They crouched down and Cal set the duffle bag and back on the gravel.

     “So what do we got?” asked Cal, looking down in the marina.

     “Twelve trigs with assault rifles.” relayed Rubi.

     “I hope you have a plan.” growled Cal.

     “I always do.” replied Rubi. She unzipped the duffle bag and pulled out a synthetic rifle stock and a silver barrel with a scope attached. She snapped the two together and slapped a magazine into the bottom. She handed the rifle to Cal before turning to her backpack. She pulled out what looked like a small harpoon gun with a spike on the back and two hand trolleys. Cal looked at it quizzically. 

     “What is that?” she inquired, gesturing to the the harpoon gun.

     “It’s a little toy, I picked up for this job.” said Rubi with a devilish grin. Cal’s eyes darted to the trolleys.

     “Is that a zip line?” asked Cal, nervously. Rubi nodded. “God damn it Rubi! You know I hate heights.”

     “Well how else do you expect to get on the yacht?” asked Rubi.

     “Not like this!” complained Cal. 

     “You’ll be fine.” reassured Rubi. She pulled a pair of earpieces with microphones from her jacket pocket. She handed one to Cal and pressed the other into her ear. A faint blue light flashed, signaling that they were functioning. Cal pushed her’s into her ear. Rubi picked up her backpack and slung it on to her back, tightened the straps and buckled the harness.

     “I can’t believe that you really want to zipline onto the yacht!” hissed Cal.

     “Oh shut up! Vy bol'shoy rebenok,” snipped Rubi. Cal scowled, leveled the rifle and zoomed in on the yacht. Rubi aimed the harpoon gun at the superstructure of the yacht. “On my go I want you to take a shot at the stern.” Cal paused.

     “Shouldn’t there be a silencer on this?” asked Cal. Rubi relaxed and looked at her friend.

     “No. Why?” she asked dryly.

     “Last I checked guns make shit-tons of noise!” hissed Cal. Rubi rolled her eyes and reached into her backpack and handed Cal a suppressor. 

     “Thank you,” retorted Cal as she screwed the suppressor onto the end of the barrel. 

     “Killjoy,” murmured Rubi under her breath.

     “What?” 

     “Nothing!” Rubi leveled the harpoon gun, “Fire.” Cal took a breath and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot was a mere pop. The man on the boat slumped silently to the deck. Almost immediately after Rubi fired the harpoon gun. The wire spiraled through the air and hit the yacht’s superstructure. Rubi quickly ran away from the edge and slammed the spike into the wall of the rooftop access building. She clicked the trolly onto the wire and tossed one to Cal. Cal attached her trolly to the wire behind Rubi.

     “Just so you know, I hate you for this,” she complained. Rubi’s lips cracked into a sideways smile.

     “Let’s go!” 

Picture Credit: http://hqwallbase.com/images/big/fabulous_monaco_harbor_marina_at_night-1522987.jpg

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #3

<<Previous

Add http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/352/5/c/cyberpunk_girl_by_raltron-d5og47n.jpg

      Rubi descended the stairs back into the bar. Wynnefred was sitting in a corner booth sipping on a beer. She glared at Rubi. Rubi ignored her and sat at the bar.

      “Dayte mne pintu!” she said to the bartender. The bartender nodded, filled a glass from the tap, and slid it to Rubi. Rubi took a sip. A blonde headed girl slid into the chair next to her. Rubi’s eyes shot to the girl. It was Cal Ivanova; Cal was short for ‘Calinka’, but she hated being called that.

      “Ey, kak dela”, muttered Rubi.

      “I’m good. I hear you got into a scrap with McLeod.” said the girl.

      “Cal, Really? That’s the first thing you say?” growled Rubi into her cup.

      “I was just curious. Didya win?” asked Cal. Rubi held up the disk Madame Loxi gave her. 

      “Yup!” grinned Rubi. The bartender approached Cal.

      “What can I get you?” he asked.

      “Ahhh.” Cal looked at the ceiling, “Gimme a White Russian.” she ordered.

      “Coming right up!” said the bartender before turing his back to the two of them.

      “So what’s the job?” asked Cal.

      “We are breaking into a yacht.” whispered Rubi, leaning in close.

      “A yacht?!” Cal cried out.

      “Shut up!” hissed Rubi, “Are you trying to let the whole yeblya bar know the job?”

      “Sorry!” whispered Cal. The bartender slid her the drink. Cal picked it up and took a swig. “So, When are we going to do this?” she asked.

      “I need to look over the layout of the ship and the security systems.” admitted Rubi, “I need you to get your best ice-breakers ready. The security software is state of the art.”

      “What is the software?” asked Cal.

      “Securititech Vault Software v.10.5.2.” relayed Rubi.

      “Wha!? What’s your major glitch?!” shouted Cal. The bar fell quiet, all eyes on Cal.  She chuckled  nervously and returned to her drink. The bar returned to it’s business shortly. Rubi slid off of the stool and tucked the disk into her vest pocket. 

      “I’m going to look over the plans. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” said Rubi.

      “Hey! You haven’t told me the pay out!” said Cal, angrily.

      “Fifty thousand, for us to split.” said Rubi. 

      “Alright.” muttered Cal. Rubi turned her back. “Rubi.” mewled Cal. Rubi looked over her shoulder. Her green eyes met Cal’s blue. 

      “What?” she growled.

      “I’m sorry.” muttered Cal.

      “For what?” 

      “For… for…” Cal struggled for words. Rubi slammed into Cal giving her a tight embrace.

      “I’m sorry. Mèi-mèi. It was just I’m still on edge from that stupid bitch!” cried Rubi. Cal struggled to get away.

      “NO HUGS! NO HUGS!” she cried. Rubi released her. Cal ran her fingers through her hair and shot an evil glare at Rubi.

      “I really am sorry.” said Rubi.

      “I know. Just don’t forget. Im always on  your side!” pleaded Cal.

      “I won’t.” smiled Rubi

---------------

Lot's of dialog here! Introducing Cal, Rubi's best friend and sidekick. If you want to see more of Rubi, please comment! Thanks!

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #2

<<Previous

Note: 'Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire' is not going to be placed on a schedule yet. Seeing as I'm not sure what the interest for her will be. But for those of you that have/are reading 'The Curious Death of Mr. Grove', I'm sure you will notice a couple of tie-ins that I have placed in this story. One other thing. For those of you that can read the other languages (Russian, Italian, and Chinese; in this Issue), pardon the poor translations! I only have Google Translate (eck!) to work with!

http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/fa/09/48/fa0948b94950e5d6f0585b2dc7fac982.jpg

     The woman looked down at her. Rubi approached like a small child who knew that they were in trouble.

     “What did I tell you about firearm discharge in my bar?” she scolded.

     “I’m sorry Madame Loxi.” apologized Rubi.

     “You know the rules!” continued the woman.

     “Yeah but he started it! He was asking for it! He was choking me!” whined Rubi.

     “I saw. Come child” ordered Madame Loxi. She walked towards a bulkhead labeled ‘Authorized Personel Only’. The door was locked with a keypad and a retina scanner. Rubi followed.

     “If I didn’t shoot him, I could be dead!” ranted Rubi. Madame Loxi typed in a key code and placed her eye to the scanner. The bulkhead screeched open. Rubi followed Madame Loxi inside. 

The far wall was one giant computer screen. There was a desk with a touch screen keyboard build into the desktop. Three chairs sat in front of the desk. In one of the chairs Rubi made out an Auburn head. The person turned to see who entered. Rubi recognized this person to. This time it not a joy toy to have fun with. It was her rival, Wynnefred McLeod. Rubi shot daggers at the girl.

     “Breaking the rules again Rascke?” asked the girl in a mocking tone.

     “None of your biz McLeod.” hissed Rubi. Madame Loxi moved around the desk.

     “Sit.” she commanded Rubi. Rubi sat in the chair furthest from Wynnefred. She shot dirty looks towards her. “I’ve had it with the petty feud you two have.” began Madame Loxi, “So I’ve decided to team you up for this next job.”

     “What the fuck! Vy dolzhen byt' chertovski Shutki! There is no kozel sosaniye way that I am working with this deshevo shlyukha!” spouted Rubi.

     “Who are you calling a whore!? You sciolto puttana!” cried Wynnefred.

     “Bì zuǐ!” shouted Madame Loxi. The two girls fell silent. “You two are going to work together, and that is the last of it! Dǒng ma?”

     “Yes ma’am.” they said in unison.

     “I expect you to act like professionals! Not like a yī duì zhēngchǎo xiào nǚshēng!” scolded Madame Loxi. “Am I to be understood?”

     “Perfectly.” said Wynnefred. Rubi only nodded. She was fuming. What is Madame Loxi thinking? Assigning me a job with this durak! She has to have a glitch. A logic error maybe. This is going to end in a Y2K. Madame Loxi’s sharp voice dragged Rubi out of neural-space and back into meat-space. 

“The job is simple. You are tasked to break onto the Direct Deposit, A yacht owned by Anthony Grove.” relayed Madame Loxi. She typed in some commands on the keyboard and a wire-frame image of the yacht appeared behind her. “Once aboard the yacht you are to hack into the computer withdraw all information encrypted after January.”

     “What is so important about this information?” questioned Wynnefred. 

     “Ms. Miller didn’t say. And I didn’t ask.” said Madame Loxi without hesitating. 

     “What is the security system like on the boat?” asked Rubi. Madame Loxi typed in another command on the keyboard.

     “The yacht has a state of the art security system. It is a Securititech Vault Software v.10.5.2. It is incredibly tough to crack and I advise extreme caution.”

     “Nothing I can’t crack.” interjected Rubi.

     “I wouldn’t be so confident. I have lost a more runners to this software than trigger-man’s bullets!” emphasized Madame Loxi. Rubi was shocked.

     “I’ll talk to Cal. She has been working on some new ice-breakers.” suggested Rubi.

     “Really? that bambina ignorante?” laughed Wynnefred, “If she spent more time coding than being an open port, she might be a half way decent coder! ” Wynnefred’s words cut into Rubi. She tried to contain her fury.

     “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” Rubi stood with such force the chair she was seated in fell backwards. She drew her pistol and pointed at Wynnefred’s head.

     “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I insult your joy-toy?” sneered Wynnefred. 

     “SHUT UP!” shouted Rubi. Her hands shaking with rage.

     “RUBI! Stand down!” commanded Madame Loxi. Rubi’s eyes were green lasers boring into Wynnefred’s yellow eyes. She relented, picked up the chair, and flopped down into it.

     “You two need to work together!” said Madame Loxi exasperated.

     “With all due respect”, said Wynnefred, crossing her legs. “I don’t think that we can work together.” Madame Loxi hung her head.

     “I am coming to realize that.” conceded Madame Loxi, “Rubi, why don’t you take this job.” It was Wynnefred’s turn to become angry.

     “WHAT!? Why her over me!? She’s sloppy and unpredictable!” argued Wynnefred shooting from her chair and slamming her fists on the desk.

     “And that will be what is required for this task.” Madame Loxi calmly stated. Wynnefred’s mouth hung agape. 
     "You can't do this!" she cried.
     "Yes I can. I do not need to explain my reasoning to you!" hissed Madame Loxi. Wynnefred let out a snort of frustration and stormed out of the office. Rubi grinned. Serves you right bitch, she thought. 

     “I see that smile Rubi.” declared Madame Loxi, “Don’t get too confident. You are one of my best runners. I would hate to see you get de-rezzed.” 

     “I’ll be safe Madame.” reassured Rubi. 

     “Good.” responded Madame Loxi.

     “So whats the loot?” inquired Rubi.

     “Twenty-hundred thousand” said Madame Loxi. Rubi whistled. “You will get fifty thousand to split with Cal, should you include her in this run.” explained Madame Loxi.

     “Sounds fair to me. It’s a deal.” said Rubi. Madame Loxi ejected a disk and slid it across the desk. 

     “Here is all the information you need.” said Madme Loxi. Rubi stood, took the disk and left the room.

Rubi Rascke: Runner for Hire #1

This is another character that exists in the world of "Chicago 2043". I have been having some difficulties writing Jack recently. Though I have finished the next two issues, So don't worry. Rubi is another character that I have had in my head. Let me know if you would like to see more of her.

--------------

/>Chicago//District 1035

/>07.11.43

     Rubi Rascke was perched atop a bar stool at the Saloon Tavern. It was a quiet place. The whole place had an Old West saloon feel but with obvious updates. Info screens hung on the walls, and a jukebox sat in the corner. There was an balcony that encircled the whole place. Her scarlet hair framed her face. Her emerald eyes starred down at her glass of scotch. She wore a yellow ringer t-shirt with black trim. Her leather vest was  covered in patches and pins. Her black skinny jeans were faded and tucked  into well worn black leather combat boots. A Union Jack patch was stitched onto the knee of her left leg.  Her eyes were lined with dark makeup. She heard a group of people enter the building. Someone grabbed her shoulder. She spun around. A large man stood behind her. She recognized him, Drek Anderson, an old 'acquaintance'. One she wasn’t too proud of being associated with. He was at least six-five. He looked down at her through a data screen with his beady black eyes. He held a fat black cigar in his mouth. Tattoos covered his muscular arms.Wisps of smoke hung in the humid air.

     “Ah! Rubi! A long nickel and dime nah clock!” He chewed on the cigar. He spoke with a thick Cockney accent. Rubi pushed his hand off of her shoulder.

     “Buzz off Drek, I don’t want any static.” she growled.  Drek blew a ring of smoke in her face. She looked down and coughed. The tobacco made her lungs itch. 

     “Ya owe me a Robin Hood thrust, lil' twist n twirl.” he growled.

     “I don’t owe you shit!” she spat. She spun around to face the bar, but he grabbed her arm.

     “Ya thumb-suckin' bitch! 're ya just garn ter leef me sittin' 'er blue balled?” he breathed.

     “Let go of me.” hissed Rubi through gritted teeth.

     “Or wot? ya gunna cut Frank Bough me cobbler's awls?” he laughed.

     “No.” said Rubi. Her boot found his crotch. He cried out and doubled over. She raised her fist and slammed it into the side of his head.  She jumped off the stool as he struggled to stand up.

     “Ya 're garn ter pay for ‘at!” he roared. He flicked the cigar at Rubi. The hot ash hit her skin causing her to recoil. His fat sausage-like fingers wrapped around her neck. He slammed her against the wall. She gasped as pain shot up her spine. She could feel her windpipe beginning to collapse. His brow was furrowed and he glared into her eyes. She struggled to get loose of his grip. She remembered her pistol tucked away under her vest. She flailed and tried to reach it, but he slammed her into the wall again. Plaster rained down on them like snow as the wall began to crack. She gasped for air as her hand found the metal of the pistol on her belt. She drew it and pulled the trigger. Drek screamed and dropped her. She coughed, air rushing into her lungs, spittle hung from her mouth in thin strands. She looked over at Drek. His thigh was bleeding profusely.

     “Ya god blimey whure! Ya shot me god damned 'ard boiled Borra And Beg!” he cried through gritted teeth. She stood. Her legs wobbled. She pointed the pistol at the crumpled man. 

     “I fucking told you. I didn’t want any static!” she coughed. Her voice was hoarse. 

     “RUBI!” came a woman’s voice. Rubi’s eyes darted upwards. An older woman in her mid-fourties leaned over the balcony. Her black hair was done up in a bun. She glared down her long nose  at the scene before her. She wore a red crushed velvet dress. Her high cheek bones were exaggerated in the dull light. Rubi didn’t take the pistol off of Drek.

     “Put down the gun Rubi.” commanded the woman. Rubi reluctantly re-holstered the pistol. “Good girl. Now come. We have something we need to discuss." Rubi nodded and headed up the stairs.

Next>>

--------------

Picture Source: http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/288/0/0/cyberpunk_girl_sketch_by_beaver_skin-d5hvwpk.jpg

The World of "Chicago 2043"

I like this picture. It shows the detective type character, though I picture "Chicago 2043" with a lower tech level.

It has been brought to my attention by a couple of people that I know, that the setting of "The Jack O'Callahan Mysteries" is not very "futuristic". Mentioning that it doesn't feel like it takes place in the year 2043 ce. So I thought that I would write this article explaining the setting and the world a little bit. The story of "The Jack O'Callahan Mysteries" is not about the technology. It takes place in a high-tech society but what the story is truly about is the people. Jack isn't a fan of technology and prefers the tried and true "gumshoe method". Now this doesn't mean that he is completely inept when it comes to computers. He knows how to search "InfoNet" and how to use "CommNet". He just prefers not too.

My stories take place in a city that is referred to as "Chicago". In my vision, the cities of Chicago IL, Madison WI, Milwaukee WI, Green Bay WI, Minneapolis MN, Detroit MI, Indianapolis IN, Columbus OH, and Cleveland OH, have all grown and merged into one mega-metropolis. Whether or not this is realistic considering the time frame between 2014 and 2043 is irrelevant. Perhaps in this timeline the cities were bigger to begin with, I don't know. I haven't really thought about it that much. Though I probably will at a later date. It's not important currently.

The world is controlled by a few mega-corporations. The biggest being the DG International. They are involved with everything from bio-engineering to day to day computers. The second largest is the Simeon Corporation. (I haven't thought much about them. I created Simeon Corp. when searching for a corporation for Jenn to have worked at. It is also named after a friend of mine.) The third, is Grove Technologies which has been brought up in The Curious Death of Mr. Grove Issue #1, when Maxine Grove, the CEO's daughter hires Jack to investigate her fathers death. There is the Haifong Conglomerate, who was taken over by the DG International, ten years before The Curious Death of Mr. Grove. Strangely enough most of the employees of the Haifong Conglomerate "dropped of the grid" after the take over. Just vanished and disappeared over night. Speculation is that the DG International hired Trigger-Men, from the para-military contracting company, Odin's Gate Security. This event is commonly referred to as the "Haifong Massacre".

In 2021 there was a break through in plastic surgery. People could now undergo a procedure to make themselves look different. Pointed ears, fangs, tails, and other animalistic features could be added to your body. The people that chose to undergo this procedure are called "Exotics".

Neural Implants are somethings that various bio-mech pharmaceutical companies are researching. Robotic arms, limbs, and body parts are available, though extremely expensive, though veterans are able to obtain these through the G.I. Bill; but only if they sustained a combat related injury. 

There are groups of hackers, called "Runners". Runners break into corporations and steal any number of things, programs, information, data, whatever. Some are anarchists, that believe in a free information system, where as others do it as a freelance job. Runners are skilled at breaking into servers and buildings, they bridge the gap between the digital and physical world. Each runner is different. Different methods, and different goals. They rarely use their real names, for fear of the corporations finding out who they truly are. They often have nicknames such as, "RedLady", "CyberWarlord", and "BinaryFlynn".

Several languages are spoken through out Chicago. The major ones are Mandarin and Japanese. Though many others are spoken such as, Italian, Russian, German, and Spanish. Lots of words and phrases from all the languages are understood by most people. It is not unusual for people to be fluent in at least one other language besides English.

Picture Source: http://www.thegnomonworkshop.com/news/2013/07/improve-your-skills-as-an-artist-by-brushing-up-on-graphic-design-basics/dystopia-cyberpunk_00353178/

Thank You for Reading! Here's a preview of Issue #3!

     Jack found himself outside of the ‘Jia Ren Gentleman’s Club’. The neon lights of the club reflected off the soaked pavement. The rain had let up for the moment, though the dark clouds over head threatened to pour down buckets at any moment. Jack took a deep breath and entered the club.