The night air was cold as we left. "That went great, I think."

  Her eyes bore into my skull. "Well aside from your violent outburst, yes." She glanced down and shuffled awkwardly. “I messed up a little too, I suppose.”

  "Nevertheless, I'm headed home, watch out for corporate thugs." I said to Clara.

  She tucked her brunet hair behind her ear. "Yeah, just give me a Link if you need backup or anything." She walked away towards downtown. She had an apartment there, overlooking the city. She wore a dark cropped Leather jacket and a brown tank top underneath. Her clothes were meant to make her blend in. The heart stitched on the back of her jacket was an insignia that marked her as a known member of The Watch. The gang that protects our district of New Salem.

  I turned the opposite way and started walking. The bar I frequent was just up the street, it was owned by an old guy named Mick. The walk wasn't too far.

  Cars flowed through the street to my left. The air glowed a red hue from the rain that began to fall, the city was far too beautiful to be this deadly. Even though this district reeked of booze, smokes, and sex, there was still a charm too it. The corporate folk I'm used to seeing always complain. A cesspit of hedonism. The blame is misplaced, because their system forces people into a box. People look for escape. The red light district let you smoke, drink, and fuck your doubts away.

  The rain started to get heavier. 'Gotta get there quickly' I thought.

  Hey, get off me!" A voice echoed down the alley to my right. I snapped my head to look and saw a mugging.

  Two gangsters cornered what looked to be a dancer, headed home from the club. "Listen, we know you work at a popular club so hand over your Creds." The gangster who spoke held a knife to her throat. "I don't wanna cut that pretty face of yours."

  I shot the knife from the man's hand. In lightning fast time she snatched the knife from the air and stuck it into the man’s neck. Blood poured onto the wet pavement below. Before I could even line up the next shot, she stabbed the other assailant. Their bodies writhed in a puddle of their own blood on the ground.

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  “Thank you, love.”

  “No problem, but you pretty much handled that yourself.” Her skills were a little too unbelievable for a dancer to have. She was definitely a trained killer.

  “Learning to accept thanks is a good thing. That tech you have, it’s modified, but it’s Servtech.” She walked down the alley with the grace of a dove. Her black skirt and her jacket she had nothing under was soaked. “I think we could be great friends.” She winked at me. “Hold out your hand, I’ll give you my link info.”

  “Thanks, but who are you—” I was interrupted by a kiss on the cheek.

  She whispered in my ear. “Give me a call if you ever need anything, love.” She pushed me aside, causing my heart to flutter as she left.

  Once I came to my senses I stepped onto the street and tried to find her. She was gone. Sirens rung out overhead, making it time to flee the scene. Mick’s bar was in view, so I opted to dash inside quickly.

  “Hey Mark, what’s got you in such a hurry—” Cop cars raced past the window outside. “How much heat yah got?” A wave of concern washed over his wrinkled face.

  “Just some dead street thugs, no worries.” I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack. The bar was empty for the most part. Only a few regulars sitting in a booth together watching tv. They paid no mind to my entrance.

  “That’s good, cops are bad for business.” He pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of Oldetown Whiskey. “You want the real stuff, like usual?” He poured a shot before I could answer.

  “Yes sir and a—” He set a glass of water and a couple of hand rolled cigarettes on the counter.

  “I know, kid.” He pulled up a stool and sat down behind the bar. “How’d that big job go?”

  I walked to the bar and sat down. I raised the shot glass and nodded “Cheers.” I toasted and slammed it back. “Good shit, as always.” I set the shot glass down and sighed. “Gimme a light real quick and I’ll tell yah.”

///

Meanwhile in a Servtech office

  “Sir we believe we have ids on the merc who stole the chip.”  

  I took a long drink of my scotch and set it gently on the table. “Why does he have our military hardware? I know that hasn’t hit the street market.”

  “Sir he may have been the same one who hit our shipment a few months back. That time the security footage was taken down. We believe he could be working with a netrunner.”

  I hit the table and a sharp pain shot through my arm. “You mean to say he has hit us twice and lived?” The anger in my voice was palpable. “It’s fine, just—” I stood up and pushed the chair in. “Send The Ripper after him.”

  “Sir I—”

  “Enough!” I turned towards him. “That chip is more important than you can comprehend. Send in The Ripper.”