The two body guards ran through the front doors and down the hall on their way to their rear of the house. Once Ian heard the back door open he stepped out from the side room where he was hiding, gave his mother a nod of thanks, and then out the door into the crowded street beyond.
Once he was clear of the house he took a moment to scan up and down the steet. In the direction of Ian’s intended exit the crowd of revelers was parting to allow a gang of armed men to pass. His father was closer than he had expected, and he was a heartbeat too late in reacting. The bounty hunter that had once aided Ian’s preparations to escape was now pointing in his direction and barking orders to the others. With no time for pretenses Ian took off running in the opposite direction.
Even though the street was packed it was far easier for Ian to wade through the masses than it was for his pursuers. That was until they started shooting their weapons into the air and demanding everyone to get out of their way. His advantage was fading fast.
Without thinking Ian darted into the nearest alley to try and work his way around his pursuers and get back to the center of the dome. Bad move, the alley was a dead end with only a pole ladder leading to the roof top. Without hesitation Ian darted up the three stories to the roof top. When he reached the top he took a moment to determine how close his pursuers were. Seeing them run into the far end of the alley he drew his laspistol and shot at the ladder’s supports. His tormentors thought he was shooting at them and all but the bounty hunter dove for cover and began to shoot back. It was now Ian’s turn to duck for cover. His las bolts had only managed to weaken the pole and not cause its failure, but he could no longer afford to linger and scampered away.
Reaching the far end of the row of hab units he looked back and saw only one pursuer coming over the far edge where the ladder was. Looking over the edge he saw a small service walkway leading across to the other row of habs. It was not much more than a pair of pipes bound together and barely wide enough to get a sure footing on. Not much else to it, he dropped over the edge and darted for the next row of habs two and a half floors up from the ground. As Ian reached the halfway point the air around him erupted with las and led slugs.
“What in Helmawr’s rump are you doing?!?”
Ian’s father’s gang had reached the street ahead of him and had set up a hasty ambush. Before any of the rounds could strike home his father smacked one of the men shooting at Ian with his power maul. It caused the man to fall to the ground unconscious immediately, and the rest of the men stopped shooting. Not wanting to wait any longer Ian leapt to catch the next roof line and hauled himself up and over the top. But instead of taking off immediately he hid and waited until his rooftop pursuer reached his side of the walkway.
It was a woman dressed in the familiar bodyglove of house Van Saar. Using his hands as a brace Ian kicked out with his right foot catching her square in the jaw just as she cleared the top of the wall. The blow caught her totally off guard and she tumbled back out of sight. Without waiting to appreciate the results Ian was off and running again.
The sound of music came to him from somewhere ahead. The Guilder’s holiday party! With any luck, and if the Emperor was with him, he could lose himself in the crowd and make good his escape.
Instead of heading all the way to the far end of this hab block Ian pulled up long enough to look back the way he had come. His rooftop pursuer was nowhere in sight so he slackened his pace to a walk. Just maybe… he waited for another moment and went to the edge of the rooftop that lined the street. Lifting his head slowly to peer over and down into the street below Ian glanced in both directions. His father’s posse was no where to be seen. But how would he get down again?
Fortune was smiling upon him. One of the habs owners had left some surplus wiring coiled up, perhaps for some project left undone. Ian quickly scooped up the abandoned wire and secured it to a venting pipe. Without further thought he dropped it over the edge of the building and scaled down to the street level.
Although his arrival caused a few heads to turn no one questioned him further than a furtive glance. Another look up and down the street revealed that his pursuers had thus far not noticed his descent. The carnival was in his original direction of flight, and although his instincts told him to double back, he continued on towards the holiday celebration.
Ian had managed to slip smoothly into the crowd, within eyesight of his pursuers. This time his appearance allowed him a certain amount of anonymity. He was just another reveler. Wanting to put some distance between him and his father he quickly stepped towards the bright red tent strewn in the middle of a common area.
Once inside Ian allowed himself to relax a little, the thin sheeting on the sides of the tent giving him a sense of concealment. The crowd was not as thick as he had hoped, but they moved in and around several cages of mutants and animals. Slowing down so as to not draw attention he moved along with the crowd. The cages that lined the pathway each held a different spectacle.
One cage held what appeared to be a dejected little girl, but instead of a human shaped head there was one that resembled a lizard with horns. In the next cage there stood a defiant man with four arms. Across the way a quadruped animal with a coal black fur coat that was pacing back and forth. The look in its eyes gave the impression that it would tear apart anything on the other side of the bars, if only it could get out.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!”
Ian spun around. Entering the tent behind him was an Enforcer patrol.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the Enforcer Sergeant repeated. “This display is not sanctioned by the ruling house of Necromunda! Please leave by the nearest exits and return to your homes! If you choose not to leave than we will take action.”
There was a noticeable rise in the tension level of the crowd. Ian could see several patrons reaching for their pistols, checking them, and then looking around for the nearest exit.
“Gotta love the Enforcers,” Ian thought to himself. The dispersing crowd grew denser as it flowed out from under the awning giving him more concealment. Looking around as he was being swept along Ian caught sight of his mother. He could swear that their eyes met, but he could not be sure.
“Let me see it,” was the only thing Katan said when Ian stepped through the doorway of the abandoned substation.
Ian handed over the recovered power cell. He also produced his backpack that carried his change of clothes and his recovered tools.
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