This story feels like it's going to be fairly long, sorry for those of you looking for instant gratification, no sex in this first chapter.
The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between these character and events and any real person or events is strictly coincidental.
Do not reproduce or copy this story without the consent of the author.
The following story contains lesbian sex so if that isn't your cup-of-tea, I suggest you try another story. Thank you for reading.
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The girl slipped quickly through the crowd, sliding around droids and meats' with practiced ease, pausing by a display of cheap monotone hats. A shiv flashed and the security tag tumbled to the ground. By the time the shopkeeper's implant pinged a warning she was a hundred meters away and ducking through the packed street, her new gray hat cocked on her head, her filthy blond hair twisted roughly up under it.
Her breathing ragged, the girl slowed down, trying to blend her ragged cover-all into a sudden mass of off-duty office workers. Quick peeks behind her confirmed the worst. Six of Wheeler's goons were pushing through the crowd, scanning for her facial structure through their cybe-goggles.
An impatient businessman shoved past her, for a crucial moment, the girl was turned around, her startled face in full view. Acting on years of ingrained lessons, she whirled and ducked between the businessman's companions. Two thuds and a gasp sounded behind her as tranq-darts hit the meat behind her. Weaving, dodging hover-bikes and dense crowds, the girl cut to her right and sprinted into one of the dingy alleys. Running for all her worth, she threw herself headfirst past a corroded dumpster and into the pile of trash underneath a garbage chute'. In seconds she had wormed her way to the bottom and squeezed herself through a hole in the bottom of the dumpster. The girl crouched, shivering and struggling to control the adrenaline burning through her system. A minute passed as boots pounded the plascrete of the alley. Her heart jumped into overdrive again as someone slammed their glove against the metal. She heard the linkman, one of Wheeler's fronts in the district snarling,
"C'mon you stupid, fraggin' rejects. She's one goddamn little girl, where the fuck is she?"
"Aw Anson, little bitch was gone before the trace could lock on. Dunno what we wuz supposed to do-"
The girl shivered in sympathy as the alley echoed with the splat-crunch of Anson venting his temper. She knew that though the thug might have been hopped up on stim-tabs and armed to the teeth, none of that was a match for the cybernetic enhancements that Anson had. She'd seen him charming and flashing his razorblade teeth one moment and ripping some poor rent-a-cop limb from limb the next. A coppery tang filled the air as a body crumpled to the ground with a strangled moan. The girl bit back a gasp as warm coppery blood seeped under the dumpster and began to drip into her hollow.
Her heart was pounding so loud she was sure Anson would hear her any second and rip the dumpster to pieces. Muffled orders and responses touched her ears as the pack began to tromp back to the main dive, dragging the trashed thug. Relaxing by a micrometer, the girl allowed herself to breathe again. She shifted her legs uncomfortably in the heat that flowed from the generator vent she lay on top of. That and the interference generated from the big broadcast vanes half a klick away had concealed her against the infra-mag-bio visors she'd seen a few of them wearing.
Hours passed and finally, the girl wiggled out of her hiding spot. Thanking whatever spirits were watching over her for both helping her to remember the hidey-hole and for keeping it intact, she crept through the vast steel and plascrete jungle of New York II. Somewhere in the distance, a holo announced new models were in for the TG hover-bike line. Stopping to scrounge food from another pile of steaming trash, she made her way slowly through the chaos of Old Town.
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Camille Leung crouched, twenty meters above the busy street, scanning constantly, her jet-black eyes occasionally picking a face, a figure out of the crowd and compiling a quick profile. Businessman: searching for sexual companionship, Threat Level: 1.2, unarmed. Prostitute: advertising, Threat Level: 1.6, armed: shiv in synth-skin sheath. Yakuza Enforcer: off-duty, Threat Level: 6, armed: Gen-Tech series 2047 10mm in the shoulder holster, 2 Vulture throwing knives over the kidneys.