Chrome Symphony - Chapter 1

Elise shook her head and sighed. She didn't need this sort of s*** on an otherwise quiet night. "Sir," she spoke up, "I must apologize for the s***-show in there. We usually get people who know better." Didn't matter what it was, when someone runs out worrying that they're going to get killed, it meant something was amiss.

"We don't keep cams on those rooms, so I don't know the full story," she said to the two cyborgs. "I'll need you two to stay here. Once I get this all resolved, I'll comp you a couple drinks, we can discuss things quietly. Like it's supposed to be."

She left unsaid that any police presence would be ill-appreciated by most of the regulars. She placed a hand on the bar and vaulted across it with a single smooth motion. "Bar's closed until I get back," she shouted as she rushed through the double doors to survey the scene.

From the doorway, it was pretty plain there had been a fight already, probably in which the two cyborgs had escaped, if that was what they needed. The room was in a bit of a shambles, and a pot of honest-to-god coffee, not the synthetic stuff, was busy soaking into the carpet. Great, more clean-up. At least it was already paid for. The two guards were recovering already, although the one with the b***** nose and red marks of a large boot to the face would be the worse for wear. The other was a guy she saw wander in off the street earlier; must've been hired on for a little extra muscle.

The actual corporate suits were recovering their composure, although none had sat back down and it was clear their feathers were still ruffled. "I'm sorry," Elise said, "But I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. Your payments will not be returned. I won't allow violence at this bar, and expect far better behavior from the usual private room clients."

The hell even was this, she wondered. Corp Johnsons are usually smoother operators. a******s were probably just using the bar as a convenient front for whatever their real plan was...maybe to cover their intentions. Idiots. No power to just lock the doors this far from their fancy compounds.

She lowered into a fighting stance, eyeing the entire group carefully. "Easy now. I can throw you out one way or another, and it's much more pleasant if you behave." But much more fun if they don't.

Atlas slowly stumbled to his feet, having been knocked dizzy by Shell's surprisingly strong kick to the back of his head.

This is not what I expected, he thought. He wasn't about to get into another fight.

Atlas turned around and looked at the men at the conference table, and then at Georg, who was bleeding profusely from his nose and covered in hot coffee, now soaking the carpet. Elise stood over him with a stern look of disdain and crouched slightly in a fighting stance.

"No...", said Atlas, looking at Elise. "I'm not interested in any more trouble. This isn't what I signed up for and I can show myself the way out."

He looked back at the men around the conference table, who were starting to look much more peeved than before.

"I quit," he told them. "Kidnapping just isn't my forte." Atlas started walking toward the door when Elise stood in front of him with her hand out, making a "stop" gesture.

Atlas groaned. "Come on. Not you, too."

"You stick around," Elise said to Atlas. "I recognize you from earlier, so you're not part of the actual problem, just another sucker." She walked past him, toward the corporate guys. "How about you help me throw your bosses out."

"You can't just throw us out," one of them protested. "This isn't in the contract!"

"Bulls***. You think we even have a contract,' Elise asked, as she grabbed the man and put him into an arm lock. "You break the rules you get kicked out." She began to drag him away, with little protest that wasn't shut up by a twist on his arm.

A few of the bar's regulars quickly made way for her to remove the man and throw him bodily out of the front door and into the rain. It wasn't every day you got to see a fight back behind closed doors spill out into the rest of the bar, so curiosity had drawn a few over.

She was quickly marching back for the others, in case they couldn't escort themselves out.

Duncan was nervously looking around, tapping his foot. It made a slight clanging sound as the toe of his boot made contact with the floor. His gear was sorely in need of a tune-up.

"Are we really just going to wait here?" he asked Shell. "We could just go. It would probably be the smartest thing to do."

Shell shrugged. "She did ask us to stay," she replied. Duncan looked back toward the exit.

"She just doesn't want us running to the police. She probably just wanted to make sure we don't do that," he said. Getting the police involved isn't a priority of mine, he thought, but if these thugs come after us, we might be on the run for some time.

"Come on, it's not wise to remain here," he told Shell. "Let's move."

Shell hesitated. I can't leave her behind. It just isn't right; I'm sure she can take care of herself but it's just cowardly to leave on my own right now.

"Ah, b***** hell. Fine. I'll wait here with you."

Shell had half a mind to follow Duncan's advice but had a thought: That bouncer looked like should could handle things just fine when things get rowdy around here, but the people who tried to kidnap us might not be her normal clients.

"Mr. Sorenson," she said, "I've sworn loyalty to my employer and, regardless of the way things have turned out, I have an obligation to see this through to the end."

Duncan looked surprised. "You're not seriously going to take the control chip?" he asked.

"No, of course not," replied Shell. "My contract did not mention Crest. It mentioned the owners of this bar. Something very unusual is going on here."

Shell started to walk back toward the double doors. "We've already taken out their goons. That bouncer, dare I say it, may actually need our help."

She opened the doors and looked back at Duncan. "We should at least check."