FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Marcus moved through the dilapidated corridors like a wild animal stalking the forest, quickly shifting from corner to doorway and maintaining as much cover as possible. He kept a two-handed grip on his custom handgun, the weapon's digital interface linking directly to the heads-up-display on his artificial corneas- letting Marcus see the gun's ammo count and projected bullet trajectory at all times. The corneal display also showed a rough map of his location within the maze of concrete hallways, complete with a motion tracker linked to the unit mounted on his lower back armour. Carbon-fibre plating adorned the human's torso, groin, his upper arms and thighs. The relatively weak armour might not stop a bullet completely, but it would absorb enough force to save his life, and was light enough to not restrict movement- as well as allowing him to move practically silently.

That last fact meant the two men in the next room had no idea he was coming. Marcus watched his motion tracker as one of the red dots paced the room while the other flickered in and out of focus. The latter was likely sitting in place, making only slight movements- enough to register on his map but not enough to give an exact position. The difference wouldn't seem important to a novice, but in Marcus' experience, centimetres of error in a gunfight could prove a fatal mistake. It helped the two had little idea something was amiss- Marcus had covertly patched into the building's data systems earlier today and altered the sensor data. The security footage for each room would begin to loop just before he entered it, reducing the risk that his targets would notice the repeating footage. Seven people were already dead and the two men in this room were oblivious. Marcus guessed that the pacing dot was another guard, and the one sitting still was most likely his target.

Double-checking his ammo count and motion tracker again, Marcus took a deep breath and steadied himself, taking advantage of the brief moment of calm. The human felt no apprehension and was in fact anxious to see the job completed, but he knew he'd need a clear head for the gunfight to follow. After half a minute, he moved in front of the wooden door. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Overhead, a fluorescent light flickered, shadows blinking in and out of existence. Lining up his gun sights with the pacing dot on the tracker, Marcus fired three times in quick succession, immediately rolling to the side of the doorway as a shout rang out and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor reached his aural implants. Seconds later, return fire punched through the flimsy timber door from inside the room. Wooden splinters flew and bullets cratered the opposite wall, sending concrete chips bouncing off Marcus' armour.

Unlike the human's practically silent weapon, his opponent's gun was loud and powerful -likely some sort of old .50 calibre judging by the size of the bullet craters and the sound of the shots. Marcus knew his armour would do little to stop one of those rounds. That sort of handgun held few bullets and kicked like a mule, and was usually overkill for an unarmoured target- aside from maybe a particularly bulky mammal, or a large feral. High-calibre handguns had initially gone out of fashion by the start of the last century, being seen as impractical, however had increasingly made a comeback among both criminals and private security as personal armour systems became more advanced and more stopping power was needed. They also had the advantage of containing no potentially hackable or traceable electronics, unlike most contemporary firearms.

Marcus counted eight shots before his opponent cursed and stopped firing. Now clearly visible on the motion tracker, he was still attempting to reload when Marcus rounded the corner and kicked the damaged door in, firing twice at the empty gun in his opponent's hands.

“Agh! Shit! You bastard- Marcus? What the fuck, man?" The overweight tiger behind the desk dropped his gun as bullet fragments flew, and Marcus aimed his own pistol square at the feline's head.

“Don't fucking move." Marcus took note of the prone wolf guard at his own feet, blood pooling on the concrete from three clean shots to her chest. Her eyes had already glossed over, dead and lifeless, and the growing red puddle contrasted with her snow-white fur. The rest of the room around Marcus was sparse and unfurnished, save for a steel chair by the door and a desk littered with monitors and various electronics- which his target was now cowering behind. “Good to see you too, Zianos," the human replied grimly. “Must say, I never imagined I'd end up kickin' down your door someday."

The tiger opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by heavy footsteps coming from the hallway. Marcus noticed too, and glanced briefly at his motion tracker before breaking into a sprint and vaulting over the desk, sending everything on it scattering to the ground. Wrapping his stronger right arm tightly around the surprised tiger's throat and pulling him to the floor, Marcus aimed his gun at the doorway with his free hand. Three more men were nearly at the doorway, almost certainly alerted by the loud gunshots from Zianos's .50 cal. The first, another wolf, grey this time, rounded the doorframe and raised his weapon towards Marcus. The human fired first and the wolf took a bullet straight through the cranium, sending brain matter and skull fragments onto his unsuspecting companion. The second, shorter man -a weasel by the looks of him- screamed as he was hit dead in the face by the wolf's skull contents, blinding him with gore. As the wolf dropped, Marcus fired two shots at the weasel. The first missed by a hair, a consequence of aiming with his off-hand. The second caught the still screaming weasel in his right shoulder, spinning him and causing him to involuntarily squeeze the trigger of his submachine gun, peppering the wall behind Marcus with an arc of bullets. One slammed into the human's right shoulder pad, the armour taking the brunt of the force and saving him from the bullet, but not the pain. Marcus grunted as he felt the brief initial numbness give way to a dull, throbbing ache that continued to build. He cursed quietly. The human knew that blow would throw off his aim.

Marcus ducked behind the desk again, arm still around Zianos's throat, as the third assailant paused around the corner, likely apprehensive after seeing the fate of his two cohorts. Marcus reloaded with one hand as he warned Zianos. “One wrong move- you even think about trying to escape, I'll crush your neck like a twig," he whispered harshly.

The tiger gulped and nodded as much as he was able to.

His gun reloaded, Marcus rotated and aimed over the desk again, just in time to see a metal canister roll into the room, tossed by a huge, brown-furred arm. Glittering smoke began to pour from holes in the grenade, quickly filling the room and obscuring the doorway from sight. Marcus cursed as his motion tracker went wild, targets popping in and out all over the display. Anti-scanner smoke. Designed to fool any passive sensor system by emitting and reflecting EM radiation at multiple wavelengths. Marcus was now fighting blind. His third assailant was clearly a cut above the others.

Zianos knew it too. He grinned. “Ha! Oh, you're fucked now, old friend. Atlas out there is my best guy. You'd better drop the gun and let me go -I might even tell him to let you live!"

Marcus ignored him and kept his aim towards the hidden doorway. The smoke was now so thick he could barely see the gun in front of his face, and he coughed as particulates stung at his lungs. Thinking quickly, Marcus moved his gun arm for a split second to press a button on his lower back, switching his motion sensor to vibration mode. Relying on ground vibrations to track movement was much less precise than his full passive sensor suite, but everything else was being scrambled by the smoke, so it was better than nothing. Immediately the tracker registered heavy footsteps passing through the doorway, and Marcus fired three times into the smoke. A loud grunt came from the direction of his shots, but no body fell.

His attacker, 'Atlas', appeared to be armoured. That was a real problem. Ducking behind the desk again, Marcus barely avoided the response, five measured shots which thudded into the wall behind him, fired by some sort of assault rifle judging by the sound. The smoke was beginning to clear now as the building's ventilation did its job, and he could make out a large shadow just inside the room. Marcus fired again, hitting centre mass, but his target still didn't go down. Taking the risk of releasing Zianos for now, he rolled around the desk without his assailant realising, who fired again at the empty space he just occupied. Just then, the smoke cleared enough that the two saw eye to eye, and Marcus saw why his shots had been ineffective.

Atlas was a bear. A brown grizzly, over seven feet tall, heavily muscled and wearing combat gear similar to the other guards. Marcus's bullets had hit him squarely in the gut, and four bleeding bullet holes marked four failed attempts to penetrate the thick muscle and fat layers of the bear's natural armour. Not for the first time, Marcus regretted having to bring a low-powered, practically silent firearm instead of one with more stopping power. A part of him briefly wondered just how Zianos has managed to get a grizzly in his employment, as the bears were notoriously prideful and independent. But there was no time to think about that now.

Atlas roared and aimed his semi-automatic rifle, which looked to be specially modified to allow such a large mammal to wield it. Marcus reacted a split second sooner, shooting the gun from the bear's hands just as he had done to Zianos earlier. Atlas barely flinched, instead closing the short distance to Marcus in moments even as the human fired twice more at the bear. Slamming into Marcus, Atlas's momentum carried them both into the internal wall, cracking the concrete from the impact. Marcus dropped his gun as he was badly winded, his armour only absorbing some of the collision, and he felt at least two front ribs fracture. He struggled briefly as the bear grappled with him, the mammal's superior strength and weight almost overcoming him. After a moment, Marcus managed to free his right arm from the bear's hold, bringing it down on his attackers' forearm with as much force as he could muster. Atlas cried out in pain and surprise as both his radius and ulna were shattered, staggering back and releasing the human. Marcus braced himself against the wall and took a moment to recover, his head swimming slightly as he tried to ignore the stabbing pain coming from his chest.

Atlas shouted at him with a deep, gravelly voice, spittle flying from his maw as he raged. “You motherfucker! What the hell's that kinda' strength, some fucking implant?" The bear clutched his arm, which was visibly bent at the break point, as his eyes flickered around the room for his fallen rifle.

Marcus smirked. “Wouldn't you like to know, ya big bastard!" Not giving Atlas any more time to recover, he pulled a combat knife from its sheath on his leg and charged the bear himself. Ducking under a vicious, clawed right-hook from Atlas' good arm, Marcus jammed his knife into the bear's armpit and spun around the flailing giant, using the knife as leverage to leap up onto Atlas's back. Atlas yelled in pain and backpedalled, once again employing his huge weight to slam Marcus into the opposite wall. Even as he felt more ribs break and searing agony course through his upper body, the human wrapped his legs around the bear's chest and strong arm around Atlas's throat.

Powerful synthetic muscles contracted and began to crush his opponent's neck. The bear stopped trying to pull Marcus off him and began frantically swiping at the arm choking him out. Four-inch claws ripped through the outer pseudoskin sheath of Marcus's right arm, but glanced off the plasteel-reinforced layer below. As he held onto the flailing giant for dear life, Marcus caught a brief glimpse of Zianos still hiding behind his desk, the tiger's expression a mixture of horror and fascination.

Despite being choked for almost half a minute now, Atlas wasn't faltering. In fact, the bear only seemed to get stronger as he got angrier. Marcus found himself slammed against the wall yet again, crying out as his chest was crushed for the third time under the bear's mass. The human realised he needed to finish this quickly, before the adrenaline keeping him going ran dry and his injuries caught up with him. Reaching with his free hand, he felt for the knife buried deep in his opponent's armpit. The handle was slippery with blood, and it took Marcus a few tries to grasp it steadily. Ripping the knife out as his opponent grunted, he raised it above Atlas's head.

The bear seemed to realise what was happening, but it was too late. Arcing the knife down, Marcus stabbed it straight into Atlas's left eye. The eyeball popped instantly and blood poured from the ruined organ, Atlas releasing an ear-splitting scream as the point of the blade scraped the skull bone inside his eye-socket. Giving him no time to recover, Marcus yanked out the blade and brought it down again, repeating the process on his unfortunate adversary's remaining eye. The bear continued to scream even louder, staggering forward and clutching at his ruined eyes. Marcus held on a moment longer, until he saw Atlas step dangerously close to the slippery pool of blood from the wolf who had first guarded the room. Not wanting to risk being flattened under the weight of a falling grizzly, Marcus released his hold on Atlas's throat and dropped to the ground, almost folding in half as pain arced through his ribs.

Atlas was stumbling blindly now, still screaming. “Aaauugh! My- agh- my fucking eyes! I can't see! You'll fucking die for this!"

The bear swiped indiscriminately at the air, the knife still lodged in his right eye, as Marcus staggered towards Zianos's hiding place behind the desk. His hands drenched in the bear's blood, Marcus shoved the terrified and nauseous-looking tiger on his side, grabbing the .50 cal his target had dropped earlier in the shootout. He saw the barrel was chipped from his bullet's impact, but the gun still appeared to be in functioning order. Marcus held out a synthetic, bloody palm towards Zianos expectantly.

“Bullets. Now," he demanded, “or I'll cave your fuckin' head in."

The tiger was in no mood to argue. “Top left drawer- no, top left!" he whimpered, as Marcus searched the desk for ammunition. Atlas obviously heard their voices, the bear lurching towards the sound as he panted heavily and continued to groan in agony.

Marcus rummaged through the drawer to pick up the loose bullets, flipping open the chamber as he fumbled to load them into the gun. The hard edges of panic finally began to claw against Marcus' normally cool head. Atlas had covered the length of the room in seconds and was now almost upon them, the bear's arms lashing out in front of him. The human managed to load three bullets before he had to move. Marcus barely rolled to the side in time as Atlas crashed into the desk, tipping it over and sending Zianos scrambling in the opposite direction. The frenzied bear no longer cared for his employer's safety, lost in a blind rage of pain and bloodthirst. Marcus took advantage of his opponent's confusion and aimed the gun from his position on the floor, gripping it with both hands to steady himself for the recoil.

Bang!

Marcus squeezed the trigger once and felt the gun kick violently in his hands- he had been unprepared for just how much recoil the .50 cal would produce. The concrete walls amplified the gunshot, and made the human glad for the noise-dampening capabilities of his aural implants. The bullet found its mark in the left side of Atlas' chest, the oversized round passing straight through the bear's natural armour and into his lung. Gore sprayed out from the wound as the impact sent Atlas stumbling back. Marcus aimed again and prepared to make the kill shot.

Bang! Bang!

The gun boomed again as Marcus fired his two remaining bullets, one -slightly off target- shattering the bear's jaw while the second blew straight through his thickly muscled neck. Atlas collapsed to the floor as his carotid artery was severed and blood spurted from the gaping wound. The huge bear gargled and choked for a long moment, clutching his destroyed neck. Marcus watched him struggle for what felt like hours, before the grizzly finally went limp and lay still, dead on the ground.

Marcus lowered the gun as he watched the expanding pool of crimson inch towards his boots. It began to intermingle with the blood of some of his previous victims- the wolf guarding Zianos and the one Marcus had shot in the doorway. The room was a mess; practically the entire floor was now stained with fluids as the huge bear continued to drain his lifeblood onto the concrete. The walls were littered with bullet holes and cracks from when Atlas had slammed his body against them. Zianos' desk was overturned, electronics broken and scattered across the floor and swimming in Atlas's blood, ruined.

Marcus heard a loud retch and snapped back to focus, as he watched Zianos empty his stomach contents in the corner of the room. As the tiger braced himself against the wall, Marcus rose painfully from the floor, left arm clutching his chest. With the other he quickly fished out some painkillers from a pouch on his belt, downing them as he crossed the room towards Zianos.

The overweight tiger turned his head to face Marcus, bile clinging to the fur of his muzzle, a terrified expression plastered over his feline face and his hands raised in surrender.

“You… he's dead- you're a fucking monster, Marcus! I never thought-"

Marcus cut him off. “Now Zianos, you and I've worked together more than once in the past, an' you've seen exactly what I can do." The human glanced around the destroyed room again. “Although I gotta say, I never thought it'd come to this." The human released a small chuckle, even as gritted his teeth from the pain of four cracked ribs -his earlier shoulder injury unnoticeable in comparison.

“I never knew you could do that! Fuck, if I'd known you'd be the one coming for this shit I never would've taken it in the first place!" Zianos gestured at the universal dataport in his left forearm- a secure storage device for data that was too sensitive to keep anywhere but in one's own body. Being a mammal, the tiger had the fur around his port closely trimmed to allow easier access.

Marcus grinned bloodily. “So, you know what I want then- good. Let's not make this any harder than it has to be, Zianos. I'd still be able to extract that file even with you dead." They both knew that statement was true. Usually, personally-stored data became inaccessible upon the death of the carrier, but there were methods to illicitly crack the encryption. It just took the right amount of money and the right connections- both of which Marcus had access to.

The human unzipped the sleeve covering his left forearm, exposing his own, more advanced storage device. Pressing his thumb to the small release button, a short length of rigid cable extended from the port. Marcus reached his arm out to Zianos, and with a defeated sigh the tiger presented his forearm out flat, the two men grasping each other's elbows as their dataports linked.

The human nodded in approval as the screen mounted on his other arm flickered to life. A message displayed in orange lettering:

//WARNING: Two-way encryption is enabled on this data. Data sender must confirm access manually//

Zianos cursed under his breath, before sighing again. “Confirmed…" he said, resigned.

Marcus smiled as the voice key was accepted, and files began to fill up the viewscreen. He laughed as the tiger looked away, unable to meet his eye. The human chuckled. “As much as I'd love to scroll through your 'personal' files, an' see all the weird fucked-up porn you have stored here, I've got a job to do," he said. “So, relax, would ya. I'll get this file, let you live, and you can go back to bein' a lowlife nobody who hacks teenager's social profiles for a living."

Zianos shook his head. “You don't get it. You've fucked everything up, Marcus"

The human laughed grimly again. “You brought this on yourself, Zianos. A moron like you should know better than to go stealin' data this valuable off a drunken courier in some alleyway. Trust me, I've been in the retrieval game long enough. You're not cut out for this shit." Marcus looked at his former friend, his expression softening ever so slightly. “I assume those were all your guys I met on the way in here?" Taking the tiger's pained silence for a yes, he continued. “I'm sorry about that. A damn waste. But business is business. You know how it is. Take it as an opportunity for a fresh start. Get yourself outta the game."

But the tiger only looked more despondent. “You still don't get it. I don't even care that you've killed everyone who worked for me and ruined my reputation completely" he said, with only a hint of sarcasm. Zianos met Marcus' gaze then, teary-eyed. “You've killed me, Marcus. They'll torture me to death for this!"

The human's expression shifted, a look of concern briefly flashing over his features before he turned his eyes back to the viewscreen on his arm. He scrolled to the bottom of the list, a single large file standing out from the rest.

“Gotcha. File 243_847b, the one everybody's after." He initiated the transfer before returning the tiger's gaze. “Who the fuck did you get yourself caught up with this time, Zianos?"

“I… I don't know them by name… only thing they told me was they were gonna send a representative to meet me here in a month- and with clear instructions on what'd happen if I fucked it up…" The tiger's forearm trembled against Marcus's, his fur making the human itch.

“A fuckin' month? For data this valuable? Sorry, but I smell bullshit."

“It's true! I think they were gonna wait for the heat to die down before making the exchange. I told them I could handle it till then…oh god…"

Marcus sighed, trying to will away the guilt settling in his stomach. He had known Zianos for the better part of a decade, having met the decidedly thinner tiger back when the human was a fresh police recruit. Zianos had been a programmer for the force, designing counter-intrusion software for law enforcement networks. On Marcus's first day, the tiger had approached him asking to borrow some credits for his lunch. The younger, fresh-faced and very naive human had obliged, wanting to make a good first impression with his colleagues.

As he later found out from an older officer, Zianos never bought his own lunch, and Marcus was just the day's unlucky mug. The police centre they were based in was a massive central hub for Horizon city, so there was enough new and temporary staff in the building that the tiger could pull his scam practically every day. The human confronted him a week later, finding Zianos holed up in his back office, lounging at his desk surrounded by clutter and playing some old video game. One thing led to another, and Marcus agreed to let the lunch debt go as long as Zianos let the human use his secluded office to relax and get away during breaks. The two quickly became friends, and stayed in touch even after Marcus graduated from desk job to active officer.

Years passed, and Zianos was eventually fired shortly before Marcus retired from the force. The tiger had been caught installing illegal backdoors into the police network -presumably for a profit- although he managed to avoid criminal charges through his (also highly illegal) blackmailing of the police chief. When Marcus lost his arm at the ripe age of 29, Zianos visited him regularly in hospital and rehab, and was the one who introduced the human to the money-making opportunities offered by the vast criminal underworld in Horizon city.

The two drifted apart over the years, Zianos graduating from blackmailing hapless teens to hacking major corporations and orchestrating massive digital data heists. Marcus also honed his own skills and became notoriously efficient at what he did best- infiltration, retrieval and wetwork. The human had begun to feel more at home on the wrong side of the law than when he used to help uphold it. He had made a name for himself as one of the best and began to find success, reputation and credits coming in droves. Zianos had been less successful, although by the looks of things the tiger had been busy since they lost touch. They hadn't spoken in years until today, and while Marcus felt a pang of guilt at leaving the tiger in such a fucked-up situation, it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done. The human had become increasingly numb to the violence and betrayal that came with his job as essentially a private mercenary.

The human didn't always work for others, however. This particular job was a solo deal. He had found out about Zianos' little stroke of luck through his own network of contacts, and decided he couldn't let his former friend have such a valuable prize, despite his nagging conscience. Besides, Marcus was letting Zianos live -as far as he was concerned that was good enough. It was certain more than most people in his position would have done. So as the data transfer concluded and he disconnected their dataports, Marcus stood and left the tiger slumped against the side wall, grizzly blood soaking into his trousers. The human retrieved his own gun, wiping off some of the blood and holstering it. He gripped his side again in pain as he made his way out of the room. Marcus stopped by the bodies in the doorway and turned to look back, seeing his former friend staring blankly into space.

“Zianos," The tiger glanced at Marcus, his expression unreadable. “I'd suggest you lay low for a while. Get the fuck outta here ASAP. Find somewhere to hang your head for a coupl'a months -I'm sure you've got the right connections." The human paused. “You don't have the data anymore; these people will know that soon enough. I doubt they'll give enough of a shit to go after you."

Zianos nodded almost imperceptibly. Marcus knew the tiger didn't really believe his words, but they were probably true. Whoever his buyers were, they would be far more interested in where their promised data was now than what happened to its previous carrier. Marcus doubted they'd bother wasting resources tracking down Zianos to suitably 'punish' him -it was his own back the human now had to watch.

Marcus continued. “Oh, and by the way, I assume you know not to mention what happened here to anyone? Specifically, my name? 'Cause if you do, an' I find out…" Marcus let the threat hang. After his display today, he wasn't really worried about the tiger giving him up to anyone. The memory of the human single-handedly taking down a grizzly, the blood-soaked floor and the overpowering stench of iron and death in this room should be enough to traumatise Zianos into keeping his mouth shut forever.

The human stepped over the corpses blocking his path, back out into the hallway beyond.

“Be seeing you, Zianos."

There was silence for a moment, then…

“Fuck you, Marcus!"

The human allowed himself another bleak smile as he retraced his path through the dismal concrete halls. Passing mostly empty rooms, he methodically checked inside each to ensure the people he had shot still lay dead where they fell. The last thing Marcus needed after going through so much effort was for some lucky bastard to survive his attack, and go squealing about the identity of their assailant. Marcus knew Zianos was too scared of him to say a word to anyone; he couldn't afford the same trust to the tiger's associates, however. Thankfully, by the time he arrived back at the building's side entrance, all eleven bodies had been accounted for. He grunted as he pushed open the heavy steel door, having disabled its locking and automatic opening mechanisms earlier as he began the assault. Marcus stepped outside and took a deep breath of the night air, which was heavy with a huge assortment of smells; vehicle emissions and industrial pollutants mixed and layered with a hundred different foods, and the unmistakable scent of freshly rained-on ground.

The south end of the city was a far cry from the ostentatious towers of the central district, and was mainly composed of ageing warehouses, manufacturing facilities and abandoned, half-constructed concrete shells -such as the one Zianos had made his base of operations. The unfinished nature of the building had made Marcus' job a lot easier. Poorly installed security systems, boarded-up windows and unreliable lighting had allowed him to move quickly and undetected, and would also facilitate his easy escape from the scene. The painkillers he took earlier were starting to work their magic, Marcus noticed. He broke into a light jog, the icy jolts of pain reduced to dull throbs as his feet impacted the tarmac. Stopping at the external electrical access panel, Marcus carefully removed his tampering device from the tangle of exposed wires, pocketing it and clicking the panel shut before proceeding to the rear of the structure.

His bike was waiting for him there. Sleek, jet-black and glimmering in the city lights, it looked like a work of art. He grabbed the helmet hung over the handlebars, donning it and clambering onto the vehicle. Specially modified by a 'colleague' of his, and with its lack of legal tracking ID making it virtually untraceable, Marcus' bike was one of his most prized possessions. Fast, responsive and just flashy enough to suit his taste, it also had a few special features which assisted him in his 'work'. A hidden, locked compartment under the seat could store a pistol and some ammunition, and the bodywork itself was coated in a thin layer of refractive polymer -enough to fool standard law-enforcement tracking and target-lock systems, giving him a crucial edge if it ever came to a street pursuit.

Marcus started up the engine, and the bike rumbled to life below him. Giving one last mock salute at Zianos' former headquarters, he gunned the engine and sped off into the night. As he raced his way onto the main road network, passing whatever sparse traffic he came across, Marcus glanced up at the shining megatowers growing larger in his visor. He followed the wide highway north towards the immense skyscraper complexes as sheets of rain began to fall once again upon Horizon City, illuminated in the highway lights and his own high-power beams. The human absent-mindedly flicked a switch on his handlebars, and the bike's smart tyres reconfigured their grip patterns to adjust for wetter conditions. The last thing Marcus wanted was to hydroplane and crash out at this speed, especially considering his current injuries. The pain was practically gone now, but he knew better than to dismiss them because of that.

He allowed himself a brief moment of reflection.

Almost a dozen people were dead, one of his oldest friendships destroyed, four broken ribs and a bruised shoulder for himself, and data worth millions of credits in his metaphorical pocket. Marcus grinned under the helmet.

Just another day on the job.