Who dogged you now?

[Bishop "Outlier" Cortez]

I clutched the suitcase to my side tightly, my eyes darting warily around me. It was evening; the next day. I wondered how I had spent the rest of my time after being confronted by the runner. After shuffling aimlessly through backstreets of the city, buying food from small kiosks, I had planned, slowly, my next move. I eventually made my way to the north side, dodging eyes on the subway rides at 12 AM and then waiting it out til evening hit and the commuters were short. No one took the subway on a balmy evening like this.

Pablo's Panini rose up in front of me, a squarish, homey looking sort of restaurant, its roof tiles brown and aged beneath the harsh sun it had faced year after year. Nothing had changed about the place since I had last been there - still the small amount of customers trickling in and out, and still Pablo, round and cheery as ever.
There was no one out on the restaurant deck. I pulled the collar up on my business shirt, head bent; I headed inside quickly, hoping to dodge anyone that might recognise me.
"Bishop!"
The loud, jolly voice rung in my ears and I froze in my tracks. I glanced back at Pablo as he waddled over to me, eyes gleaming, wide grin consuming his large face. "Bishop, amigo, long time no see!"
I smiled grimly and the grin on Pablo's face slipped ever so slightly. He came up close to me; I could feel the heat radiating from his rotund torso.
"Something is wrong, si?"
I swallowed and turned to him, taking a step back. He sized me up and down and then his eyes widened in recognition. He pulled me close to him with one large fist. "Te has vuelto loco?" he hissed - have you gone crazy.
"Pablo, you gotta help me. Give me one of the private rooms upstairs. Please."
He shook his head quickly and then stopped, seeing my expression. "Okay okay," he said hurriedly, still holding onto my arm as he pulled me behind a partition towards the stairs. He placed a key in my palm.
"Don't make me regret this."

The room was small, but not stuffy; a wide side window opened onto the city, letting a cool breeze filter in softly. I began work immediately. I waited impatiently for the laptop to load up. At last I began skimming the program files, though with a sinking feeling. I initiated the extraction process and waited for the program to install. It opened with a beep, the home page popping up onto the screen. I stared at it, my eyes fixed on the screen as though I was suddenly frozen.
"Wait..this can't be right," I murmured to myself, clicking into the next phase of the program. I was shaking my head, trying to take it all in. I took out my cellphone and pressed redial almost automatically, pressing the phone tightly to my ear; I was barely breathing.
"Hello."
His voice, smokey, deep.
"What is this?"
"Whose this?"
"You know damn well who the fuck this is. What sort of program did you send me in for?"
"Bishop? Bishop! That you? Where are you?"
"This isn't the Communications and Geographic Tracker," I was saying, my heart thumping wildly.
"Where are you Bishop? Do you have the program with you?"
"I have A program!" I almost screamed into the phone.
"Where are you?" He repeated, excitedly. "Bishop? Bishop!"
I dropped the phone and ducked my head as a bullet whizzed past my head. I pulled the laptop towards me and grabbed the suitcase, shoving it roughly inside.
"This is not my fucking week."
I crawled along the bottom of the window as another bullet struck the back wall. I prayed Pablo wouldn't hear what was going on. There was a door in front of me and I reached up and twisted the knob. It opened creakily and I pushed it open, crawling inside. Four more bullets hit the wall in rapid succession. I stood up, hidden from the view of the window and rushed down the staircase that lay out before me.
I needed to get help, but where from?

[Evie "Harlequin" Summers]

Evie ran hard from one roof to another via the waypoints she’d marked on a previous research excursion. The trail of buildings, spanning from each corner of the city eventually led to its epicentre – the heart of the government workings. Their headquarters were heavily guarded, except for the apartment blocks that hemmed it in. The map Evie formulated in her mind was intricate, detailed to perfection. It was essential she understood every entry, every exit and the amount of man posts that stood to full attention at each sector. She’d dealt with her own mistakes in the past and now reaped its rewards for a better opportunity the next time round. This time, she was prepared.
She steeled herself for the next leap, pacing out her breath as she mentally rehearsed the executed jump to the next roof. In the air, she stole a glance backwards, calculating the enemies left on her tail. As she approached the jump she relaxed her joints, flexed her toes and fingers and entered the roll in smooth transition, tucking her shoulder beneath her just in time. She enjoyed the momentum, and the rhythm she created when running was a pleasure not many experienced. Those traceurs behind her wouldn’t understand a smidgeon about the benefits of correct technique. She smiled, and ran on.
She knew the next rooftop would be slightly more of a challenge. Here, an elevated wooden panel would serve as a springboard so she could gain just the right height to reach the roof overhang on the next tower. It stood a good few storeys above street level and any runner sloppy enough to fail the jump would probably not make the next trial. Evie remained defiant by nature, and disciplined herself thoroughly during the times she spent surrounded by a detached community, for she still was completely alone. This next test would only further prove her unshakable resolve.
The board loomed up before her and she took a few deep breaths. The men behind her slammed their feet into the concrete ground as they advanced, careless but adamant. Only a few metres from the board, she took another quick pace before the bunching of thigh and calf muscles, the curl of the spine and the precision of the anticipated landing. This time, she raised her arms out before her to grip into the overhang when her fingers would come into contact with the aluminium slab edge. What happened next however did so in such rapid succession she had little time to properly contemplate a response.
As she entered the ascending arc of her leap, something, or someone, burst from a window just adjacent to her air-borne route. Evie refused to tear her attention from the approaching rooftop ahead and focused entirely on the landing she needed to perfect. What she did not expect was the intrusion to slam straight into her side and roll them both across the landing below. Luckily they’d cleared the gap to the streetscape under the overhang to end up sprawled, but unharmed on a parallel rooftop just a few metres away from Evie’s expected descent. As they had landed, a small laptop had been tossed, out from the folly to end up in a mass of broken hardware and tangled motherboard wiring. Truly jolted from her place, Evie shook her head, touching a hand to her forehead where pain screamed down from a wound through her spine, arms and legs. She grimaced from the throbbing but managed to move up to a standing. The 3 men glaring down at Evie seemed to scowl before turning away and giving up on their targeted fugitive, unhappy to allow her escape with the unfortunate interruption to their game. The last she checked, Evie was sure none of them had holstered guns at their belts.
“Hm. Pussies.” Evie snorted. She strode over to the pieces of laptop and plucked them up from their place, all the while stretching out her arms and fingers to test their worth after the incident. She cleared her throat and held the broken devices out to the man sitting across from her.
“Here. Sorry about your equipment.”
She gave him a one-over, assessing the state he was in and the injury at his forehead. He seemed to be posing no danger to her in any case for with a smooth exit mapped in her mind, and the possibility she may befriend this stranger, Evie welcomed the diversion to her otherwise routine day. A moment later she asked, “Hey, you alright?”

[Bishop "Outlier" Cortez]

I rubbed my forehead, feeling something warm ooze onto my fingertips. I was stunned, squinting down at my hands – a trickle of red lingered on them. Three black silhouettes were retreating into the distance on the adjacent rooftop. I watched, curious, realizing that I could no longer hear the sound of bullets.
“Here.”
I looked up at the woman standing over me, a half black mask covering her pale face. Two long dark slits stretched over her eyes. “Sorry about your equipment,” she apologized, holding out the disjointed pieces of my laptop. My eyes widened.
“No, no, no,” I started, crawling to my feet and taking the machinery from her hands. “Damn it,” I groaned, turning them over. I started pacing a bit, trying to ease my anxiety. The laptop didn’t look too damaged and the wiring hadn’t taken that much of a hit – I could, maybe, fix it…given the right materials and a quiet room. It was worth a shot. I had to access that program again...
“Hey, you alright?”
I looked up as she spoke, confused, and then realized she was looking at my forehead. I reached up again, wincing slightly. The blood was still trickling down my face, though it seemed to be slowing. I nodded slowly, picking up the suitcase from the ground and carefully sliding in the pieces of laptop.
“I think I’ll be okay,” I murmured, looking back up and eying her over. She was tall, lean, swathed in an expensive looking black coat. I glanced back at the rooftop.
“Who were those people following you?” I asked; I didn’t expect her to answer, though I wanted her to. I realized, with a sudden desperation, that I was out of contacts when I needed them most. I thought back to the barrage of bullets lodging themselves in the back wall at Pablo’s Paninis. Whoever was shooting hadn’t exactly expected me to leap from a nearby window to escape – I hadn’t expected it myself actually, and what I expected less was to leap straight into someone who was attempting escape too. The difference was, I thought as I looked down at her stylish kicks, one of us was evidently professional and one was evidently not. I winced as pain jabbed at my forehead again. The woman had shifted her footing, and was watching me with an intent expression. I hoped it meant she was formulating an answer.

[Evie "Harlequin" Summers]

At first, there was hardly any commonality between herself and the man before her. He’d rotated the broken device in his hands carefully examining each component, reaching mental conclusions she didn’t think she’d understand. Slowly Evie saw the resolve burning in his eyes, and the quick contemplation he formed for the situation he now found himself in. Furthermore, his business-like attire added to the technical air about him that gave way to her curiosity. As she stood in front of him, her eyes keeping watch on any telltale signs of ambush, she found herself wanting to know more about him, about his story.
His voice came smoothly, direct but unchallenging.
“Who were those people following you?”
She cocked her head at his question, wondering the same thing herself.
“I don’t know.” She thought back to the beginning of the pursuit on the rooftops. Though she’d anticipated coming into contact with runner cops closer to her destination point, she didn’t expect to be running from the same unmarked hostiles she’d encountered a long time ago. They seemed to have a common code between them all, a society so secret even she didn’t know a thing about them. She ran her tongue over her lips as she contemplated how little she knew about her enemy, and the fact bothered her immensely. The sequence of events led to the abrupt meeting of the stranger now sitting calmly in front of her, nursing a weeping wound and tucking his equipment into a suitcase he clutched in his lap. Beneath her mask, a smile danced across her lips.

“I’m Evie by the way.” She held out her hand in a gesture to help the guy up. “And it looks like you were in a bit of a compromise back there. Perhaps we have some information we both want to know.” Aware of the vulnerability of her position, Evie discretely rested her other hand over the small blade tucked into her belt. She perceived he was safe, but she had also previously learnt not to trust so readily a seemingly weakened and unarmed businessman.

[Bishop "Outlier" Cortez]

The woman had extended her hand, a lightness playing in her voice, and a smile, I was sure, on her lips.
“I’m Evie, by the way,” she began. “And it looks like you were in a bit of a compromise back there…” I stopped, watching her intently, waiting. “Perhaps we have some information we both want to know.” Her words sunk into my mind and the opportunism in me was waiting to jump. Edginess still nudged at me though; I knew she was armed and I knew she was ready to use her weapon if the need arose. No one stood almost comfortably in such a circumstance – she didn’t look the type to work with a crew either. She was self-sufficient, I could be sure of that much. I looked down at the suitcase, its bulky form stuffed with the pieces of laptop and other equipment. Her response about the men who were following her – a simple, “I don’t know”, was superficial. Maybe she really didn’t know. Something told me it wasn’t so; there was something more about her. I was having trouble weighing up whether or not this “something more” was a good or bad thing.
I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling myself into a standing position again. She shook it firmly and her eyes never left my face.
“My name’s Bishop,” I said simply, watching her expression closely. “I think I have some information a lot of people would like to know,” I admitted, still watching the minor changes in her expression. Her eyes hadn’t moved from me, her concentration barely wavering.
“And what I need right now, Evie, is a place I can go where I won’t get shot.” A few creases formed around her eyes – she was smiling.
“Because as you can see, I am in a bit of a compromised situation right now.” My bluntness was bubbling to the surface; I always had a problem with being discreet. “So if you have information you want to know, I’ll let you have it if you help me. What do you say?”
I said it confidently; if I could access the program again, I could provide any information she wanted. Knowing she was most likely running from the Blues seemed to calm my fears; an enemy of the Blues was an ally of mine, one way or another. And I knew that I too wanted answers about my situation; Mickey’s betrayal still nagged at me. Maybe Evie had some information that the program couldn’t tell me…

[Evie "Harlequin" Summers]

Evie looked down at Bishop’s suitcase. “I’m not going to make any more assumptions about you until we get to a place where we can think things through logically.” She raised an eyebrow. “Its the only way I’ll be able to tell you what you need to hear.”
She dusted herself down, dipped a hand into one of her back pockets and drew out a small folded piece of paper. She opened it up, revealing a street address and instructions on how to enter the area. Bishop’s expression faltered but Evie quickly explained.
“A checkpoint for runners. Runners on our side, that is. The Blues may know of the place but they’re intent on avoiding infiltration for now.” She knew the Blues had maps drawn up and had distributed them among the runner troops. However, she also knew there was something there she may have to show Bishop, something he may be able to help her with.
“Its not exactly a safe haven, but I’ll need to collect something before we head off looking for one. I scratch your back, you scratch mine, you know how it is.”
Evie winked at Bishop. “Follow or stay, its your choice.”
Bishop watched as Evie slipped down over the roof edge to a building below. Before she disappeared completely from view, she turned and stood with hands on her hips. She gave him the benefit of a choice, however it didn’t change the fact that it would be important he keep moving in case any of the Blues, or the unmarked runners, returned. She was certain that while she learned a little more about the technology Bishop seemed to specialise in, she’d be able to help him perfect the art of his running skills. All that was left was for him to make a decision.

[Bishop "Outlier" Cortez]

She had presented me with an option, though I couldn't fool myself enough to call it a "choice." I had no choice but to follow her - I had nowhere else to go, and if I had found a place to go, I knew I'd be followed by some less than pleasant company. She was fast, well-prepared, and, I hoped, maybe she was beginning to trust me. I zipped up the rest of the suitcase and then looked back up at her, a small smile forming. She was waiting for me on the rooftop below, her hands rested on her hips, her eyebrow raised in a gentle smirk.
"Lead the way," I called, moving to slide down the edge of the rooftop. I was beginning to wonder what it was she had to pick up first though. I guess I had to wait and see.

[ooc: sorry for the poor post!]