Alice heard the dull thud of flesh striking concrete. She looked back and saw the man from the sonic van gasping on the ground behind her.

Marcos used to joke that if you heard the shot it meant the sniper missed. In this case it just meant someone else was the target.

The man lay face up on the pavement, a pool of red growing slowly across his torso. He still clutched his pistol in one hand, though seemed to have forgotten it.

Alice stomped hard on his wrist and he yelped, releasing the gun. He was bleeding profusely, but still conscious.

"The processor." Alice demanded.

He shook his head.

"Please don't make me do this," said Alice said, flicking out her knife. "I don't like to hurt people."

"Don't have it," the man coughed out. The shot must have grazed his lung, his breaths were getting choppy.

Alice crouched over him and dangled the point of her knife above his eye. "Who does?"

"Seamus, your contact. He didn't know about this; we phished him, changed the rendezvous. He's waiting in the lobby at the Victory Hotel."

"Shit," Alice swore. "Your men watching him?"

"Of course. Now can you put that away?"

Alice folded her knife. The man relaxed a little. "So you're not going to kill me?"

"No," Alice shook her head, stepping away. "He is."

Marcos had finished the walk over from the plane. He leaned over and smiled. "Sorry to make you suffer. I'm usually a better shot."

"No, please–" the man broke off into a hacking cough.

Marcos fired a pistol round into his head. The raspy breathing stopped.

"I heard them talking about reinforcements," Alice told Marcos. "Should be here any minute."

Marcos looked at the four of them. "We're not all going to fit in my plane," he replied. "Plus it's a little conspicuous. How'd you get here?"

Alice nodded at the van crashed against the building. "It might still drive - wasn't going that fast when it hit. Keys should be inside."

Alice grabbed Marcos's arm as he turned to leave, leaning close to his ear. "What about Weizza?" She whispered, "She's still cuffed, we could take her out."

Marcos shook his head. "She can literally kill me with her brain. I'm not messing with that. Plus her call just saved your life. We set her free."

Alice frowned but let him go. Marcos busied himself finding keys and getting everyone uncuffed.

Two more figures were walking over from the jet; a man and a woman. Something about the man's gait was familiar. Almost like...

"JULIAN!" Alice shouted. She ran toward her son, taking him up in a bear hug.

"Easy mom," Julian said with a smile. "Got some bruises there."

Alice stepped back and looked over her son.

"Oh honey, what did they do to you?" Alice traced a welt on his face with one fingernail.

"Nothing that won't heal Mom." Julian gently brushed her hand away.

The dented van rolled up alongside them, Marcos at the wheel. "Sorry to cut the reunion short, but it's time to leave folks. Sensors are shot, so I'm driving. Get in."

With the three new additions the van was nearly full. Alice took a seat in the middle row next to Julian and the mystery woman.

"Who's your friend?" Alice asked Julian.

Julian blushed. Interesting. "Uh, this is my new girlfriend, Nadeja."

Alice almost asked him what was wrong with his old girlfriend. She stopped herself. Not the time for spats. Olivia was probably dead anyhow, like everyone else that lived in London. Instead Alice plastered on the best smile she could muster.

"A pleasure. How did you and Julian meet?"

"He tricked me into helping him then got both of us kidnapped," Nadeja answered with a smile.

Alice raised one eyebrow. Julian lightly kicked Nadeja's leg. She barreled on anyway.

"When he got rescued by that one," Nadeja pointed a finger forward at Marcos. "Julian made sure I wasn't left to the wolves."

"He always has been a sucker for a pretty face," Alice remarked brightly.

"Mom," Julian chastised.

"So where are we going?" Marcos called out from the front.

"Downtown," Alice answered. "Those clowns tricked us with a man-in-the-middle attack. Our package is apparently at the Victory Hotel. I still need to figure out how to make the connection though. SumatoTek will know we slipped their net. They'll be watching him."

"I will retrieve it," Weizza replied.

"Won't they just grab you?" Alice asked.

"I do not plan to go inside," Weizza said with finality, closing off further discussion.

When they reached downtown Weizza directed Marcos to park in a loading zone at the back of the hotel. She opened her last white case and extracted a spider bot similar to the ones Alice had seen her use in Hungary. This one was smaller, about the size of a silver dollar. Its color shifted from black to grey as Weizza set it on the floor of the van.

"Adaptive camouflage," Weizza explained, "it will match whatever surface it walks on."

Next she pulled out a tablet that showed the view from the bot. "Robert, will you be able to identify Seamus?"

Robert nodded. "I know what he looks like."

"Good. Then let us begin."

Weizza cracked the door of the van and the robot skittered down to the sidewalk and up the wall of the hotel. The tablet showed a complete field of view, heavily distorted to fit the rectangular viewport. The fish eye lens gave the illusion of extreme speed as obstacles zoomed by.

The spider skittered around the second story exterior, making its way to the front of the hotel. Once there it perched on the bottom side of the awning, waiting.

A bellhop opened the door for a departing businessman. The spider scurried over his head and through the door into the lobby.

A handful of hip patrons sat in overstuffed couches and chairs, a tableau of understated wealth. Weizza tapped the display and it switched to a grid of rectangles showing each person in detail.

There was a young couple planning their day over coffee, a balding man on a laptop, and a severe fellow in a trench-coat just staring into space. A microphone relayed the sleepy beats of the hotel's ambient music.

"Are any of these your man?" Weizza asked.

"Yes," Robert answered, "Seamus is that balding guy."

"Perfect."

The bot walked across the ceiling until it reached a tall bookcase, then used it as cover for a descent to the floor. From there it zipped under the couch Seamus was sitting on.

The man had a backpack resting on the floor next to him, unzipped. The spider-bot darted inside.

"Sir," the man in the trench coat spoke, "something just went inside your backpack."

Back in the van Alice swore. Weizza remained focused on her task. The bot flittered through interior pockets searching.

"Huh?" Seamus answered. The video feed shook as he picked up the backpack and brought it to his lap. "What are you talking about?"

Weizza found what she was looking for; a clear plastic case containing a single microchip. The spider flicked an adhesive appendage out and anchored the case to its back.

A giant hand appeared on screen, descending from above. The spider fired a tiny flechette into Seamus's searching palm.

"Ow!" He exclaimed and dropped the bag, spilling its contents across the floor. The spider bolted back under the couch.

The man in the trench coat whipped out a pistol and dove to the ground to get a shot on the fleeing bot.

"Drive." Weizza commanded back in the van.

"Where?" Marcos asked.

"Away. Do it now."

The tablet showed a busy blur as the spider dashed erratically, narrowly avoiding pistol shots. It fired back a few more poison darts, but couldn't land a hit.

Seamus had turned a sickly shade of green and was doubled over vomiting. The others in the lobby screamed and ran for the door. The man in the trench coat paused firing to put a fresh clip in his pistol.

Weizza sent the bot darting up the wall toward an air register. By the time the shooter reloaded the spider had disappeared behind the grate.

Marcos had driven the van over to the riverfront parkway and was headed south.

"Stop." Weizza ordered. Marcos pulled off into an empty lot.

The picture on the screen was in grainy night vision. The bot navigated a maze of ducts back to the central trunk line.

Weizza opened her white case once more and retrieved a flying drone.

"They will be looking for us near the hotel," she explained. "They will not find us. I'll make the retrieval from the roof."

She slid the door open and tossed the craft into the air. The picture on the screen split now, one half showing a sunny Portland morning, the other an endless grey tunnel.

Alice recognized the streets they'd just left on from the aerial view, though they were busier now. A dozen black cars converged on the hotel's exits, disgorging more military men.

The spider cam changed - a dot of light straight ahead grew progressively bigger brighter. It swallowed the viewport right as the drone touched down on the roof.

The spider scrabbled out of the vent and on to the copter, attaching at a docking port. Then the pair zipped skyward, retracing the journey. The men on the ground held guns on the doors, but failed to notice the drone slip away.

Alice watched as their white van grew large on the screen. Ba Kuang opened the door and the flyer tumbled in.

Weizza briefly inspected the retrieved microchip. "It looks correct. We will not know for sure until we plug it in. Marcos, take us back to the east side. I have a package to pick up."