Prologue.
Richard Sawyer wasn’t old. He wasn’t even close to some people he’s known but he felt every of his 39 years when his commlink rang. A specific ringtone only nine other people had, and three of those were dead. A quick mental command and the line was open.
“Red Cantaloupe.” He said aloud.
“Blue Strawberry.” The voice on the other end replied.
“Where do you need me?” He asked.
“Closing Curtain, three hours. Come alone.” The line went dead.
Closing Curtain was a mildly upscale club in the Tacoma district of the Seattle Metroplex. Known to the underworld as a neutral ground for the people who ran in the shadows and the johnsons who hired them. It wasn’t unusual to see people who were forgettable meeting with people who threw Nuyen around like soy-salt. Richard was only mildly out of place, Street Samurai who looked like him were considered dangerous, after all fear the old man in the profession where young men die.
He found her at a table near the bar. Different suit since the last time he saw her, same hair though. He approached her and asked for the recognition code.
“Excuse me, do you know if they serve Braddock whisky?”
“No, but they have a nice blend that comes out of Denver.” She replied. It was her. No Bug wearing her face or a damn shapeshifter.
“Been what, three years since I got out and now you call me? Bit late for the separation party Sunny.” Richard said as he sat down across from her.
Tabaitha “Sunset” Shimmer snorted. “Well not everyone gets away from watching weirdos to make sure that they don’t try blowing up the government…again.” She tapped the tablet at the table for drink orders, “Still drink Pappys?”
“Of course, but I assume you didn’t use the old codes just to talk about my choice of alcohol.” As a server came and dropped off their drinks they made small talk, catching up with who was still alive, careers, and the fact that their boss now sat in the Oval Office. With a subtle movement Tabaitha hit a button and a jamming field kicked on. “To business.” She said sliding a datachip over.
He picked up the chip and slotted it into a port in his neck. “Oh boy, what messed up drek have you found this time.” As he went over the files on his internal computer Tabaitha started speaking again.
“How much do you know about Fluffies?” She asked.
“Next to nothing, except that their fragile, breed fast and need a lot of prep to cook…Dunkelzhann’s beard the fuck are these nut jobs doing?” He said, confusion visible on his face. “Friends of Togetherness? Sounds like a WinterNight splinter, and you haven’t rolled these guys why?”
“To answer the first question, those nut jobs are being ‘led’ by a biotoy. I know, it’s stupid but we think it’s being propped up by a Mage. At least six murders we can tentatively trace back to them, but evidence is a bit scant, arms trafficking mostly small arms, and drug manufacturing.” She paused and took a sip. “Latest incident involved a Metroplex Child Protective agent getting geeked, and why I called you.”
Richard looked at her, “So what, you need me to go in and save the taxpayer some money? Knight Errant had the contract last I checked, and your part of the soup, HRT not up to your standards?”
Tabitha rolled her eyes, “They’re close enough to the border that it makes the Salish nervous, and they can’t really spare people on their side with the integration of Tsimshian eating resources.” She replied, sliding another data chip “The offer for your expertise is 35k, Nuyen obviously, split between whoever you manage to drag into this.” She stood up and finished her drink. “Timeline for us getting the Salish to spare people for a joint-op is six months, you can get this in the bag in half that. Call me when you have a plan or other people who can do the op.” She hit the jammer and left.
Richard “Ripsaw” Sawyer, finished his own drink, pocketed the chip and left as well, composing a group text to his fellow Shadowrunners.
Ripsaw: So, I got us a job…