Dear Daisy, From Vance
So our whole mixed group rode back ta town with Running Dog or whatever his Indian name is. We had our buried box for Johnny the mysterious guard, and we passed that over to Johnny the next morning unopened – not for lack of trying from Pam the drone-girl. I had kinda figured we should hold the box back until he delivered on his favor, but it worked out ok anyway.
We went back to looking for options to move the residents to. Pam got lucky and noticed a warehouse run by Aries was closing up shop, so we set up a low budget surveillance operation to verify that. The rumor seemed to pan out, and the place had power and water. If we could actually take control when Aries moved out it seemed like a great solution. Unfortunately, Aries has pretty good security, including mounted robotic guns, at least one mobile defense robot, a couple human security types, and according to our pet gnome an elemental spirit. On the upside all that would leave when they did I guess. On the downside of someone else was moving in they might bring their own stuff. But we were banking on being able to move in first and fastest, possession being nine tenths of the law.
We called Miller, the head of the Tenant Cooperative League at the place we were trying to clear out, and told him we had a line on a new place and to be ready to move in in a hurry Friday evening. Elf-boy did the talking that time and basically laid all our cards on the table for free, including the location of the new building. I gotta get that kid inna poker game sometime.
I had lunch with some of the folks from Aries and heard some office gossip that pretty much amounted to Sam being a slacker. Dunno who Sam is or what he does so not very helpful, but I did know a name, which might be useful.
There was a brief detour when elf-boy ordered lunch at the corner store and accidentally came home with a huntin’ rifle. He got the same model my pappy taught me to shoot with.
Then our comlinks beeped and gave us a mission. We were supposed to find a specific person and put them in fear for their life to find out what they really, really wanted to do with their life. And then tell em to do it or else.
I was supposed to pick a guy up from the airport. Mr. Robbins. I didn’t think to ask if he know Mr Baskins. Now I want ice cream. But the mission cane with a car and a sign with his name on it. The car said Uber; I dug into my just in case stash and slapped a little sticker on the door so I was driving the General Uber.
The pickup went smooth. I got the cargo in the back seat and the cargo’s cargo in the trunk. He said to take him to the Hilton. I ain’t gonna lie, I had no idea where that might be, but I didn’t really need to. I took off like a bat outta hell.
Me and Mr Robbins, we had a real heart to heart that evening with the fear of death putting some solid grade truth serum in his corp-faced veins. He ain’t been following his dreams rising in the corp suit world. See, what he really wants is ta be a bartender. Mix drinks, pour em, mix the lonely lady with the shy guy in the corner, listen to people’s problems and pretend to be sympathetic. I mean he seemed sincere enough. I was giving him the ride of his life and gosh darn it he didn’t seem to like the excitement. Not everyone is cut out for a life on the edge I guess.
So I dropped him off.. um, near his hotel, and told him if he was a bartender in a year he wouldn’t ever have to see me again. Then I drove around the block and came back to give him his comlink with all the mixed drink recipes he would ever need. And then I dropped his bags off at the actual hotel once I could look it up on a map, and waved as he came runnin’ up all out of breath.
We kept up surveillance on the Aries building and Pam teamed up with the gnome to scope out the guards. Got confirmation they were moving out Friday and were going to pull the automated security out too. That was good enough to let our Mr Johnson know we had a line on a good solution for him, and the Tenant Cooperative the same. It was all gonna go down Friday evening.
I bought lunch for made-up name Tim and real name plus insult Slacker Sam and tried to deliver it. Didn’t get in the building, but no big deal, everything appeared to be going according to plan anyway. By end of day Friday the place was empty and dark.
So we moved in to check it out. I jumped the gate, tried to open it from the guard shack. No power, but Pam jury rigged something and got the gate open. We had a couple gawkers so I took up a position in the guard shack to keep people out while everybody else explored the place and got Johnny on his way to look it over. Elf boy watched from the rooftops with his brand new hunting rifle, and wouldn’t you know it, he almost caused an incident. Couple folks tried to move in from the back and he took a warning shot at them. Then when they stopped and asked to talk he very nearly shot at them again. Luckily I had started running over there when I heard the first shot, and between us we got everybody together inside the building to talk it out. We offered rooms if they agreed to help us guard the place for a little. It worked out.
Johnny’s people were nice enough to offer us some space in the building we found for them. Mr. Johnson was nice enough to loan us a generator to work the gate until we could get power sorted out, and pay us the agreed.
So I guess we’re in business now. Real shadowrunners. Team Red.. or if I have any say about it, Team Burnt Orange.