Easy enough.

     Nervous energy danced about in his stomach making it impossible to eat the wings he'd ordered or finish his complimentary drink. Johnny Meyer was impressive, if not diminutive in stature. He made a mental note that if he survived, he would need to look up any available mp3 from this band.

     Mac had also kept a constant eye on the two 'crouts, who seemed at times to be in communication with someone. Probably their superiors.

     The man in the soundbooth seemed appreciative of the music as well, speaking now and then with his female companion. The dark woman in the black dress seemed distant; her own attentions directed somewhere else. Mac groaned inwardly when she abruptly cleared a table nearby and began throwing down cards.

     Verbena.

     She was having a vision. Or something. He hadn't known many of the Witchy Tradition, most of them came to him for information. Spells, incantations, rituals. The normal stuff. The one that lived in Trent Cole's apartment complex was more into discussing the latest popular television show than herbs. Mages come in all shapes and sizes.

     Her tall companion seemed a bit upset at her abrupt and odd behaviour. Upset...or a bit embarrassed. I'm going with embarrased.

     The song ended and the band disappeared off stage left. Mac glanced at the soundbooth manager who had turned to speak to the man with the poncho. He listened in and his guess was proven correct. The final set would begin in six minutes.

     With a glance at the Verbena, he pulled the napkin from his pocket for the seventh time and went over his instructions. He should question things more carefully, but the last bit of the missive mentioning someone dying bothered Mac. He didn't want to botch this up if it meant someone's life.

     And he did not wish it to be him. Not that I think that would happen, but I'd hate to have someone else's death on my conscious because I played the over-caution card too hard. I have been known to swing to the side of wariness on occasion.

     Mac smiled. Trent would laugh to hear me say that out loud.

     The crowed pressed forward as the band members ran back out on stage. Johnny Meyer waved to the crowd as he picked his guitar back up.

     There's my cue.

     He tossed several dollars on the table and stood. His laptop secure over his shoulder, he made his way through the thickened crowd, his left arm thrown protectively over his bag. With a curse, he realized he was having such a hard time getting through because no one really noticed him. He'd forgotten to close down the 'invisible' Rote.

     Damnit.

     As he pushed through a particular dense population of patrons, he reached in his pocket and switched his Treo completely off. The Rote dissipated. Not the best way to shut things down - but it worked.

     The air outside was decidedly cooler than it had been when he went in. Electricity danced in the desert air. Felt like a storm. The breeze ruffled his hair, cold against his neck where perspiration chilled against his skin. I was really sweating in there. Though I tend to believe it was from what I'm about to do than the temperature.

     A different man stood at the door. Mac raised his hand to him. "Parking lot?"

     The new bouncer pointed toward the back of the line and around the corner. As he walked quickly down the sidewalk and through the fenced gate, several black vans careened around the corner in front of him and screeched to a halt at teh club's entrance. Mac ducked behind the fence of the parking lot and watched as the vehicles belched forth men in familiar looking uniforms.

     He'd seen these men before. MIB and Techno Ops. Shit.

     Mac pulled the shades off and put them back into his pocket. Was this why the missive had him out here and not in there? Somehow the Technocracy had detected "Reality Deviant" activity in The 57 Club. And he had an idea how.

     The soldiers.

     Careful to keep himself low, Mac began searching the rows of cars for one in particular.

     Row C, space 5.

     There it was - a monster of a vehicle. Shiny. Silent. And somehow...unearthly. It was hard to tell the color in the light of the parking lot. The chasis' base was at Mac's knees. He would need to pull himself up and into the cab just to get in. Now, for the key.

     It was as the email had said. With shaking fingers he punched in the code and the doors unlocked. With a glance around him, Mac got inside and locked the doors back. No use inviting any kind of mugging while I familiarize myself with this monster.

     He adjusted the seat, slid the key into the ignition. The motor started smoothly and the electronic gas gauge showed a full tank. The panel lit up blood red over the steering wheel and to his right. One area between the driver and passenger seats remained blank, and Mac wondered if there was something missing.

    With a grunt, he wedged his laptop into the space between the driver's seat and the median drink holder and what he believed was storage.

     Now, which way was the back of the club?

     Logic told him backstage was to his right, in the rear of the building. Fastening his seatbelt, Mac sped the hulking vehicle on toward the rear of the building, easily making the right turn just as the drumming intro to Disturbed's "Down With The Sickness" issued from the radio. The music only seemed to aid in the urgency he now felt to get behind the building to the door as fast as possible. He'd turn it off if only he knew where the knob was.

     People poured out of the place from all exits. The Techno Ops were apparently forcing a Raid. As he made his turn he spotted the kid in the black cossack he'd seen by the stage, now standing just outside a metal door. He appeared to be waiting for Mac. And for the first time he noticed the magic that surrounded the kid - something unfixed and unschooled...fuzzy.

     A Hollow One. Oh yay.

     Hitting the unlock master on the driver's door panel, he slowed the Rover to a stop and slid the passenger side window down.

     The dark young man yanked the second passenger door open and climbed in. Mac turned to him. "Are you who I'm waiting on?"

     The kid fixed him with dark, expressive eyes and nodded. "And others. All the doors are unlocked?"

     Mac nodded.

     The kid crawled between the driver's seat and passenger's seat. Once seated he offered Mac his right hand. "Kyle."

     Kyle? Nice name. Taking the kid's hand in his he gave it a hard shake. "Mac."

     "Nice to meet you Mac. Just hang tight. This Rover's about to get real crowded."

     On cue, the tall blond in the Versace suit he'd spotted at the bar came through, the Verbena in tow. She seemed dazed somehow, as if she'd seen something or remembered something very horrible. The blond had to push her into the Rover's back hatch. "Nice car," the blond said as he pushed and shoved his charge into the vehicle, then with a grunt pulled her into his lap. The two crowded to the far side of the Rover's back.

     Next came the dark haired man with the Poncho and the female he'd been chatting with. They piled into the Rover next, urged on by Kyle's motioning and shouting. The singer Johnny Meyer came out followed by his band. The band took off in the opposite direction as the Shaman guy pulled Johnny to the Rover.

     Mac could only sit by and watch, ready to move when told.

     Shouting brought everyone's attention back to the door. Through it came the giant African American Mac had seen in line earlier. Only now he was carrying the biggest fucking semi automatic Mac had ever seen. He shot into the doorway, then shouted and motioned someone through.

     A well toned latino woman came through with two people in tow. The man with the gun yanked at a blond in fatigues as the woman pulled at his female companion.

     The 'crouts!

     "Zydeco, get him them in the middle, I take the back."

     "Now Oz, you sure these two are out of commission?"

     The man smiled. "Trust me."

     Zydeco, the woman with the flame tatoo around her exposed middle, shoved the girl in frst, then yelled, "Pack it in, people. We got more coming!"

     Everyone shifted their positions as the blond 'crout was shoved inside and the woman with the tatto crowded in behind him.

     Mac turned, his finger pointed at the blond, who in turn looked at him without his shades. His eyes widened as well. "They're Technocrats...what're they doing here? They can't be trusted."

     The Shaman narrowed his eyes at Mac then looked to the blond.

     Zydeco nodded and gave Mac a slow smile. "I've got'em covered, sweetheart. He ain't throwing no shit on us right now."

     And indeed, it seemed to Mac both the 'crouts appeared a bit dazed and sluggish in their actions. Had they been drugged?

     The man with the gun opened the back and jumped in. Zydeco turned to Mac. "Floor it!"

     She pointed as she shouted and Mac turned in time to see MIBs and Techno Ops, their black armour reflecting the club's outside lighting, pouring out of the backstage door.

     Oh WAH-AH-AH-AH! boomed the music of Disturbed.

     Mac released the brake and floored it, just like the lady said. The tires peeled out beneath him as the monster Rover barreled forward, and he swerved the wheel, not trying too terribly hard to avoid the MIBs that insisted on standing in the way of a fear driven Adept. Shit, shit, shit...

     "Hey, kid!" the man with the gun yelled. "Pop this window!"

     "What?" Mac glanced at him in the rear view mirror.

     "He said pop it!" Zydeco ordered.

     Glancing down at the consol, Mac was a loss as to where that release was. He began punching odd looking buttons to his right.

     "I think it's somewhere down there," Kyle said and pointed to Mac's left.

     Spotting the lever, Mac leaned down just as he came to the building's edge. He was going to have to make a sharp turn at his present speed or they were going to careen head-first into a brick wall. He released the hatch and watched as the armed man in the back shoved his big gun out like a rear cannon.

     The brick wall was coming up fast. "Hang on!" Mac shouted as he spun the wheel a sharp right. The front responded but the back end fishtailed around to the left. Mac spun the wheel into the left to straighten it and to his amazement, cleared the building's corner with some room to spare.

     "Oh hell..." Zydeco said from behind Mac. She had manouvered herself to sit directly behind him. Her expression was distressing.

     Mac glanced at her wide eyes in the mirrror, then looked forward.

     "Oh hell..." he echoed.

     The 'crouts had moved two of their vans in front of the parking lot entrance and formed a line of armed men several feet in front of the baracade. Mac wasn't sure what to do so he slowed the Rover.

     WHEN SUDDENLY IT CHANGES, VIOLENTLY IT CHANGES

     "What are you doing?" Oz demanded.

     "I can't go through that!" Mac pointed to the baracade.

     "Yes you can." The woman put the barrel of her gun to the back of Mac's head. "This ain't personal, luv - I just don't plan on dying tonight. Now gun it."

     NOW THERE IS NO TURNING BACK NOW THAT YOU'VE WOKEN UP THE DEMON IN ME!

     Mac braced his hands against the wide steering wheel, aimed the front end directly to the center where the two vans sat nose to nose. This seemed to the be the point where the two vehicles were most vulnerable.

     "Move!" the woman shouted.

    DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS

     He floored the gas. The Rover's engine roared, having never actually come to a complete stop. His head was thrown back against the head rest as someone in the back yelled out. He heard someone scream

     DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS

     He wanted to close his eyes; but he knew he would only lose control of the Rover if he did that. Instead he watched the entire thing in real time.

     The Techno Ops began firing directly at them, their amunition bouncing off most of the Rover, though some embedded into the windshield. It cracked on the passenger's side and he heard Kyle yell out and put his arms in front of his face.

     OPEN UP YOUR HATE AND LEAVE IT OPEN TO ME - GIVE IT TO ME

     "We're not gonna make this..." someone said from the back.

     The Techno Ops scattered, jumping out of the Rover's path at the last minute.

     "Hang on!" Zydeco shouted.

     Calling up what little bit of strength he still had, fueled by pure adrenaline, Mac held the wheel straight. The front end hit the two stationary vans, shoving them outward, like a bullet bursting through a metal door. The impact jarred everyone in the Rover, and the muscles in Mac's arms and hands ached with the tension he had on them as he held the wheel steady, determined not to let the Rover get out of control.

     MADNESS IS THE GIFT THAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO ME

     Once through, Mac had to contend with more running people and he honked the horn several times as he turned the Rover onto a sharp right and sped down the main drag in front of the club.

     Several of the Mages behind him began talking, but Mac was too busy guessing where it was he was supposed to drive. He knew there had to be some sort of direction - a map maybe - hidden in the car. Too much attention been given to him to get him into the car and to the back. He was sure whomever it was that directing this little adventure hadn't abandoned them.

     He looked at the dark area again on the center panel of the dashboard - noticed the way it was positioned.

     With a glance in his rear view mirror, he saw there were several pairs of headlights behind him, coming on fast. Mac reached out with his right hand and touched the dark area.

     Sparks danced in a bright pattern and he recognized a concealing Rote - now disappaited with his touch.

     A guidance system, complete with 5x6 color LCD screen lit up. Grid maps of streets began flashing across the screen, as if something were pinpointing their location. Within seconds a flashing red X marked their position, followed by a bright flashing green snake that wound around roads and streets.

     "Kyle," Mac called to the man beside him. "I need you to watch that line and tell me where to turn. Can you do that?"

     The Hollow One nodded.

     THE WORLD IS A SCARY PLACE NOW THAT YOU'VE WOKEN UP THE DEMON

     "I think we're being followed." Johnny yelled from the back.

     "Zydeco!" Oz called.

     Mac watched the lights behind them become brighter.

     She turned and swore. "I see'm Oz. I'm guessing two vans. Adept, I need you to get us the fuck outta here."

     "Mac," Kyle said. "Up ahead. Make a right."

     The right turn was nearly upon them before Mac saw it and again was forced to a skidding turn as the back end spun out to the left. Oz yelled out in triumph as the vans that had followed them speed on by and he got off several good shots at them. From the explosion that followed, Mac believed the giant man had destroyed at least one. Oz and Johnny smacked their hands together in a High Five.

     "Could you please tell him to stop? Explosions like that are just going to get us killed."

     Mac glanced behind him. It might have been the tall blond that spoke. He couldn't see the brunette, but assumed she was in his arms somewhere between he and Oz.

     The lady with the Shaman had her head buried in his chest as well. The 'crouts...they were sitting perfectly still, their gazes more riveted to Zydeco than what was happening. They still look drugged.

     "Mac, we're to take two more rights, then a left."

     Mac glanced at the LCD, afraid to take his gaze from the road.

     "HERE!"

     Mac spun the Rover again, then turned right again, then within a mile the LCD directed him to turn left between a Burger King and a McDonalds.

     Linkin Park's "Numb" charged up on the radio.

     "Tired of being what you want me to be..."

     "What are you doing?" That was the Shaman.

     "There's a guidance computer up there," Zydeco answered for Mac. Her voice and carriage held enough weight to stop him from arguing any further. "We follow it."

     "Don't know what you're expecting of me, put under the pressure of walking in your shoes..".

     Yeah, but its leading us one hell of a merry chase. Mac glanced at Kyle, whose face was illuminated a ghastly white by the LCD. "Next?"

     "Well, it says we need to made two more lefts, then drive into the parking garage of the office building on the right."

     "The parking garage?" Mac slowed the vehicle to look at the screen. "Then what?"

     "Oh no you don't," Zydeco said abruptly. Mac glanced at the mirror in time to see her hit the Void Engineer in the head with the butt of her gun.

     Kyle shook his head. "We wait five full minutes. Shut the whole Rover down."

     "I don't believe this..." Mac looked back to Kyle. "We shut the car down?"

     "Adept," Zydeco leaned forward again, but this time she touched his arm with her hand not her gun. "Just follow what it says."

     "Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow..."

     Mac followed the directions, and turned into the parking garage of the office building Kyle pointed too. Once there, the directions said specifically to take the third deck, the second row, the fifth slot. Miraculously, that very space was opened, where every other space was filled.

     He pulled the Rover in and shut it down, pulling the key from the ignition. Oz pulled his gun in from the back and shut the hatch, then trained the gun on the two 'crouts.

     They sat in silence for the duration, no one daring speak for fear of the enemy hearing them. Mac caught the slight murmuring - chanting - of the woman sitting in the Shaman's lap. Her head was down and she rocked back and forth slightly.

     Zydeco eyed her own watch. She put her finger up. Mac set the key just inside the ignition as he watched for her signal in the rear view mirror.

     "Go."

     He cranked the car again. The LCD came up immediately with new directions out of the parking lot. Zydeco leaned forward. "We're heading out of the city. Move it, Adept."

     Mac backed the Rover out and let Kyle guide him out onto the highway, and into the Las Vegas traffic.

     I've got a really bad feeling about this.

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