September 9, 2058

The Limit Nightclub and Bar

Regina, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

Two disreputable-looking men sat at a table in The Limit, a third-rate nightclub in the old warehousing district. They were waiting on a third man, their friend, to finish some business on his cell phone outside. In the meantime, they were engaging in the favourite pasttime of Regina shadowrunners these days.

Grousing.

"It's that damned Leon Eagles." said Bitterwind, a scarred AmerIndian with a bulging cybereye in his left eye socket. "Ever since hes come here, the runs are disappearing. Can't even get anything except escorts and packages, and we're above that."

"......One of these days, I'm gonna draw on him." said a cybered young half-breed nicknamed JudgementDayne. "We'll meet in the street one day, we'll draw, and I'll put a bullet through his skull."

Bitterwind rolled his one remaining eye at that. He'd heard that before, and he didn't believe it the first time either.

"I swear, if this keeps up, we'll have to move to Thunder Bay, get some work going there."

"Then let's do it. I'll drive, you navigate."

"......Lets wait til Clay gets back, see if this job's any good."

The truth was, none of them wanted to leave, except maybe JudgementDayne. They were smaller fishes content with the small pond that was Regina, and then the kraken known as Leon Eagles was thrown into the water. Everything was screwed up by that. But Saskatoon and Calgary had higher quality runners already handling their business with their established contacts. Thunder Bay was always looking for people to do harbour jobs, but barely passable runners such as themselves didn't often last long there. Running in the other small towns would make you stand out, and subject to harassment from the local shamanic societies.

No, it was Regina or nothing, and at this rate, it would be nothing. Unless the upcoming job was a good one......

"You think the rumours are true......That Leon really is Wild Fire?"

"......Who knows, Seattle makes up all kinds of stuff. Wild Fire may not even exist. Maybe its just a story people made up, to explain the Renraku stuff."

"If he does exist, that'd get my rep up. Killing Wild Fire would be one for the mantle."

"If you do kill Leon, don't be obvious about it." said Bitterwind, shaking his head. "Leon has some powerful friends who won't look on his death too kindly. So does Wild Fire, if he even exists."

"I'm not scared of them." said JudgementDayne, with a note in his voice indicating his fear.

Just then, the third member of the group jandered up to them. He was known simply as Clay, and he was quite an enigmatic and mysterious man. Clay claimed to have shamanic abilities, but no one had ever seen his totem or seen him do more with magic than parlor tricks. Still, he was a decent hand with a gun, so they kept him around.

"We got a job boys."

"What is it?"

"Protection work for one of those eco-terrorist outfits. They got word Yokogawa's hiring some boys to run them. We're standing guard over a cabin they've got near Strasbourg."

"How much?"

"5000 each, for a week's work. They're expecting the hit soon."

"Whos the Johnson?"

"Rouleau."

"Word says got two of his own runners killed, last time he put out work."

"Well we don't have too many options now, do we?" said Clay, leaning back in his chair.

The group took a moment to consider this, but realized, in the end, he was right. It was this or being an errand boy for a drek-head like Bradley.

"I hope Yokogawa hires Leon to hit us." said JudgementDayne, his excitement over the work now overriding his fear.

"Leon isn't a Yokogawa guy. It'll probably be Potter and Richardson, if anyone." Bitterwind said, pushing back his chair and downing his last cold brew in one gulp. "Let's get ready. We'll need all our gear for this one. Hopefully those heat-sensing goggles still work, they might try some nighthawking on us......"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

With that, the three of them finished their drinks and left the bar......

~~~

September 10, 2058

Abandoned Scrapyard

Several km west of Regina, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

Leon, Sylvia, and Brandon stepped out of their Ford Bison truck, looking around casually at their meeting site for the evening.

They had gotten a call from the small-time Johnson known as Bradley for a new run. The usual cloak-and-dagger routine was followed to spell out the meeting place without actually saying it, which meant this meeting was at an abandoned scrapyard. Leon hoped it was ghoul-free.

Leon also hoped he wasn't tailed here. He had noticed what was probably a Long Arms unmarked following him around again. Longmiles had tried this tactic earlier in the spring, before Leon complained to Chief Hillborn and Chief Hawksford. The tail disappeared, but it looked like Longmiles was trying again. Leon thought he lost them in a traffic jam, but hopefully this wasn't a sting......

As they walked past a massive, decaying bulldozer, they saw Bradley, leaning against a rusted steamroller. They saw Kenta Kawasaki, the Yokogawa suit who had given them a contract killing a few months back. They saw Boar Jaw, the ancient ork bodyguard of Bradley's, and they saw him chatting up a massive AmerIndian troll, who was wearing the same sharp suit as Kenta Kawasaki, albeit made with double the fabric. The troll had to be close to eight feet tall, and carried his bulk with importance.

"Oh, this oughta be good......" said Leon, as he walked over to this odd group.

"Leon, thanks for coming!" said a happy-looking Bradley. No doubt happy because he was getting his cut. "Got another big job for you, since the last one worked out so well."

"I'm afraid the jury's still out on that one."

"......Why, he stiff you on payment?"

"No, but he might get me arrested yet."

Leon walked past Bradley to meet with Kenta.

"Alright Kenta, what are you gonna rope me into this time."

"Something mutually profitable, Mr. Eagles." Kenta said.

"Cute. Whos the big mamaluke beside you?"

"This esteemed guest is Martin Grey Mountain. He's a local we've hired to be my new head of security."

Leon nodded. "Well, he looks capable."

The troll grinned. It wasn't a pretty grin. Leon thought he recognized the name and the face, come to think of it. Martin had done some work in the Salish-Shidhe, ripping the door off a shipping container with his bare hands, and rescuing some girls from being sold into sex slavery overseas. Leon had provided sniper support while that was happening. Not that Martin needed it.

However, Leon had no doubt that, while Martin was certainly an intimidating and competent choice for a bodyguard, he was along to curry favour with Leon. After all, if you hire a troll, the most discriminated against of the metahuman races due to their appearance, you had to be a good person, right?

Except it was PR. It was all PR in the end, to a Japanese corp.

"Martin got the assignment because I realigned my security division. There have been some threats made to my life recently. Serious ones. I was hoping you would take care of one of them."

Kenta handed over some documentation.

"We've obtained the location of a group called the Green Hand. They were responsible for firebombing a Yokogawa facility near Southey that was under my jurisdiction. Several of our men were killed in an explosion."

"I heard about that." said Leon, while leafing through the documents. The attack had been a brief story on the news a couple weeks ago, one of many eco-terrorist activities in the Native American Nations this year.

"They destroyed our property, so we feel it right to return the favour. This log cabin houses some supplies and documents of great importance to these terrorists. Destroy them and destroy their log cabin. Send a message that these activities will no longer be tolerated."

"Why not have this guy do it?" Leon said, gesturing towards the troll. "He could probably tear down the cabin with his bare hands, log by log."

"Public opinion against corporations taking direct action is mixed at the moment." said Kenta Kawasaki. "As usual, Aztechnology is ruining it for the rest of us. What we need is plausible deniability."

Plausible deniability: Those magic words to a shadowrunner. Aztechnology did indeed screw things up by taking out the birdwatching hobby group very publicly, thinking them to be eco-terrorists. The public nature of the extermination rubbed some the wrong way, and Aztechnology got a rare hammering in the media. That, combined with the small groundswell of support for small towns due to corporate policing incompetence, meant it was important to keep bad PR to a minimum, until the damage control finished.

So instead of a big production with a corporate Strike Team, Yokogawa could hire Leon, and assume zero responsibility for his actions if things went south. A typical part of the game.

"Also, we have obtained intelligence, that says the Green Hand may be hiring mercenaries to defend their property. We would like to put this group down before they become a real problem. You may encounter several of these mercenaries guarding this cabin. Do be careful"

Leon mulled over the plans. It looked simple on the map, a log cabin near the small town of Strasbourg, with some sort of basement suggested on the floor plans. But he had to push it. He had a good feeling about this job, which bugged him, but he wanted to negotiate for hazard pay nonetheless.

"If they've got mercenaries, this won't be a walk in the park." said Leon. "I want to be well-compensated for this."

"Name your price." Kenta said, while smiling.

"......35 thousand. Plus expenses."

"What are you considering to be expenses?"

"I'll need to replenish my grenade stock after this, if I'm blowing up this cabin. You corporate boys are making it hard for honest men like me to obtain daily necessities. How can a man have fun in life, without a belt full of frags?"

Kenta smirked.

"I'll have Martin supply you with some explosive ordinance from our mining division. As for your asking price?......"

Kenta looked over to Martin, who shrugged.

"......35 thousand is acceptable." Kenta said with a flourish.

Kenta offered his hand, and, with some reluctance, Leon accepted it.

Once again, he was under the thumb of Yokogawa, and once again, he wanted to believe the thumb would crush him. But he had a good feeling about this job......