Crimson Dawn (part 10)

Jimmy the Knife knew that he was destined for the big time. He was a made man, a big player in the GIanelli family, one who commanded respect already, even at such a tender and young age. And while he was still on the up and up, everybody knew that he was going places. It was just a matter of time, they said; one day soon he was going to get charge of one of their big operations in Pullyup, and then he'd be set for life.

Right now, however, his glorious future wasn't what was occupying his mind in the middle of the packed Redmond club. What had occupied his attention was a gorgeous, red-haired Elf girl whose dress clung to her in all the right places. He'd spied her on the dance floor and hadn’t been able to take her eyes off her since, instead watching her every move and the way that the shapes under that dress moved with her.

More runs need to be like this

And then she'd become aware of it, which seemed to spur her on even more. She'd worked her way through the crowd, slowly, deliberately, taking her time to better build up the excitement before finally the two of them were dancing together. She hadn't said a word, but she didn't need to either. Rather, he could see it from the hungry look in her eyes, that eagerness to show off for him and him alone.

It was the power. He projected it, she was drawn to it. He had it, she wanted it, and that was all there was to it. That very thought was almost as enticing as she was, enough to keep him grinning as she'd danced with him, swinging and gyrating with an intense energy that he knew was for his benefit alone.

And when she'd gotten close for an instant, whispering about one of the club's private rooms, he knew what was coming next.

He'd followed her, happily watching the way her hips swayed under the hem of her tiny skirt, his mind imagining what it would be like to peel her out of that dress and savor what lay within. Even when she ducked into the room ahead of him, he was still thinking about it, a massive grin plastered on his face as he shut the door behind him.

He was so distracted by the thought that he wasn't even aware of the length of metal pipe she was swinging at him until it collided with his gut, doubling him over with an explosive burst of pain that drove the wind from him. A second blow sent him to the floor, the Elf girl looming over her with his makeshift weapon in hand.

"What-" he began, only to feel a sickening, sharp pain as the pipe smashed into his knee, crushing it with bone-shattering force. Several more blows served to test the soundproofing of the room, Jimmy crying out each time until the pain finally ended. He rolled around on the floor, clutching his devastated leg as she simply stood over him, tossing the weapon aside.

"Tusker Tony says hi," She simply finished before stepping out of the room, leaving him to his agony.

-----

Even though the Redmond club had been far from the best in the city, it still was light years ahead of the dingy bar that Crimson was now sitting in. It had been a bit under a day since her targeted attack, enough time for her to make contact with her Johnson and let him know that the job was done. He'd arranged to meet her here as per normal to discuss the Run's outcome and, of course, payment

So she sat and waited, dressed in her usual low-key street ware (Although after what she'd done, she was now even more amused by the notion of a 'club dress'), patiently waiting for the two men to arrive, her mind fixed on something else. She’d run the numbers through her commlink, which had come back to tell her that, after this run, she'd be at a key point in her plan. One step closer to the dream, Crimson.

Slicer arrived at her table, placing a bottle on the table as he sat next to her, interrupting her train of thought. "Well, you're in once piece which is a good start," he smirked as he poured out a glass.

"Was there any doubt?" Crimson shot back, her voice full of confidence. The last two months’ worth of Runs, even as low key as they were, had done a lot to dismiss those lingering concerns and fears she'd been fretting over after her excursion to the Devil Dogs' lair. Now not only was she fully committed to this lifestyle, but she was also enjoying every last little moment of it.

"Well, we'll see what Mister Johnson has to say about that," Slicer simply replied as he took a swig from his glass. "Though I'm imagining that he's going to be pretty happy with the result. He's liked what you've done for him so far."

"It's my combination of charm, wit, devastating good looks, cheerful personality and lightning-fast reflexes honed to perfection that does it," she jokingly replied. "I am, after all, a dead sexy killing machine."

"That's the spirit," Slicer grinned. "You know, you sound a lot like me when I was your age."

She raised her brow at that last comment, but didn’t say a thing as the Johnson arrived. She'd been working primarily for this one weather-beaten, tattooed man since she'd started Running, having been introduced by Slicer. And while she still didn't know the full story, she'd gotten the distinct impression that the two of them shared a past. "I heard that Jimmy the Knife had a rather nasty accident last night," the man began.

"That he did," she replied with no small pride. "A very specific, knee-shattering accident."

"And I also heard that now he's screaming blue murder at Tusker Tony, and the pair of them are at each other's throats," the Johnson continued. "Two of Jimmy's boys took some shots at Tony's car, if you can believe it."

"Oh, I'm sure I can"

"All of which means that you did your job perfectly," The Johnson finished with no small degree of satisfaction. "Well done, as always," He placed a credstick on the table, sliding it over to her.

"Thank you," she replied, taking the Credstick with an almost hungry pounce. "And I hope that we can keep on working together."

"Well that- " The Johnson began, but was cut off by a small beep in his ear. "You’ll have to excuse me. Things are in motion." He nodded to the pair of them before standing, heading out of the bar.

Slicer finished off his drink then poured himself another one. "Well he seemed to be happy," he enthusiastically offered before taking another sip. "To your success," he added.

"Thanks, but you played your part as well."

"True. Call it a collaborative effort then," he accepted. "So what say we have a little celebratory drink?"

"I'd love to, but I got a whole bunch of stuff that I need to get done," Crimson replied. "Including arranging for some work." She tapped the side of her head, next to her eye.

"Oh, is it that time already?"

"That it is," she grinned. "Which means that I'm going to be on the bench for a bit, but after that you’ll need to step up the training."

"Of course," He nodded

"Look forward to it!" Crimson beamed. "See you later"

Without waiting, she'd turned and left the bar. Behind her, Slicer simply sighed and refilled his glass.

-----

In her short career thus far as a Shadowrunner, Crimson had come to expect a lot of things out of meeting spots. Even then, this one struck her as being odd, but not because it was unusual in any way. If anything, it was because it wasn’t odd at all; a bland twenty-four hour Soycaf Cafe in downtown that featured functional plastic decor, cheap carpeting and staff who seemed to be about as thrilled with their jobs as Ashely was with hers.

On the other hand, it suited the man she was here to meet just fine. If her Fixer had a distinctive feature, it would simply be how bland and nondescript he was. Everything about him was boring and missialbe; average height, unremarkable looks, brown eyes, brown hair... It was like he was the 'default' option on some Vid game's character creation screen.

He simply sat down opposite her, dressed in his functional coat and hat. "Good to see you," he simply began. "I'd hate for all the work that my associates put into this to go to waste."

Functional as ever, she considered as she nodded to the Fixer. "So give me the low-down."

He produced a small data chip from his coat pocket, handing it over to her. "Kaitlyn Vermelho. Elf female, age twenty-four, UCAS national. The details are all in there, but it has what you need."

"Including the licences?"

The fixer nodded. "Vehicle, firearm including concealed carry and Cyberware as requested," he simply explained. "Everything you need."

"Perfect," she replied, handing over a credstick. The fake SIN was a massive investment of money, but would also be vital to building her new life. While Ashley Redmond had enough of an identity to get her a boring, minimum age day job, she wouldn't begin to stand up under any sort of scrutiny. This one, on the other hand, was just what she needed. It meant that she could legally walk around while being a hardwired killing machine and had enjoy background to stand up to all but the most determined of scrutiny. With it, she could run in the shadows, and yet maintain a semblance of a life that could be used to shield her from recriminations.

And bury Ashley while I'm at it, she added.

"And the other thing?"

"Booked in, as per request," the Fixer noted. "It was not easy to do either, given the... exacting nature of your requirements, but I found somebody capable of doing what you want to the specifications you gave." If those specifications had caused him any trouble, then he didn't show it, instead keeping his voice perfectly calm and measured throughout. "I've sent the details to your account. Naturally, I will rely on you to be discrete."

"Thank you," Crimson nodded. "I've included the fee we discussed in that payment."

"Good," he finished. "Again, it's a pleasure doing business with you," he added, even if his voice didn't suggest it at all.

She smiled back, letting him go as she instead concentrated her eyes on the data chip. One step closer, Crimson told herself, a small smile on her face as she appreciated just how close that dream actually was. A few months ago, it had seemed like she would never make it. Now she was on the threshold, and from here, there was no other way but forward.

All she had to do was make some major, irreversible, life-changing decisions along the way. Her fixer had just provided her with the means to do it.

-----

After two meetings and with a long day of work ahead of her, not to mention the task of familiarizing herself with her new SIN and the life that came with it, the logical thing for Crimson to do would have been to get an early night. What she had instead done was go to a club (one where she hadn’t just smashed the knees of a mob heavy, of course) and have a great time before finally more-or-less stumbling home in the tiny hours of the morning.

But yet she was ready to go on time as per every other working day. She quickly rolled out of bed, showered, dressed and grabbed her breakfast (A nutritionally fulfilling and bland as all hell breakfast bar and a can of Spolde) while quickly checking the morning newsfeeds for anything that might relate to her last run. This last part was vital for two reasons; the first was to see the reactions or responses to whatever it was she had done, the second was to see if her face had come up in relation to anything. After all, bring publicly identified was a great way to kill her career before it began.

There was one deviation from her routine this morning as she quickly looped back to the bedroom. "Hey!" she called out, yanking the sheets off her bed and the naked Elven man still asleep under them. "Wakey wakey!" She prodded him hard in the back, getting him to stir and roll over.

"Wha..." He began, bleary eyed.

"Look, last night was awesome and all, but I got to go to work," She quickly snapped. "So I'm going to have to kick you out, sorry."

"Uh, okay," he mumbled. "So-"

"I'll call you, okay?" She shot back. "Now get your hoop out of here, and be discrete about it too. Boring suburbanites don't take well to strange men with tattoos and mohawks walking around their apartment buildings and tend to call the cops on them"

He glanced around before looking up at her. "Um, can I?"

"Geez, I saw it all last night," Crimson sighed in reply as she turned to give him a modicum of privacy. "Just hurry up, okay?"

Despite that delay, Ashley made it to work earlier than usual, striding into Vendor Mammoth with a confident step that seemed entirely out of place. Most days she entered the store with a slump-shouldered feeling of resignation, knowing full well that she was in for another ten hours of soul-crushing monotony as she tried to fake being nice in exchange for a pitifully small salary. It wasn't an attitude that stood out, simply because it was the way most of the staff approached the store.

"Hey, morning Ashley," Shawnee began as she passed her at the door. The Ork girl was near the end of her shift and looked worn out. "You're looking rather chipper today."

"Got some good news," Ashley replied with a confident smirk. "Something that's going to make a big difference to my life."

"Glad to hear," Shawnee nodded, sounding something that approached genuinely upbeat.

"And thanks," Ashely finished. "Because in some ways, you made it all possible."

She blinked. "I did?"

"Yep. See you later!" She finished as she turned, striding confidently to the backrooms of the store, a specific target in mind.

Mitch Williamson wasn't hard to find. The Night Shift manager was where he always was at this time of morning, waiting by his office so that he could see Shawnee for another 'private coaching' session. Ashely had no idea what the connection was between the two, and wasn't sure if she wanted to know either. Mitch was an unappealing, middle-aged man with thinning hair who’s wife had left him after a bitter divorce that he'd lost out on big time, a fact that he needed to let everybody know about even if they didn't want to. Nobody in the store seemed to actually like him (Shawnee aside), but because he was related to somebody higher in the food chain, they couldn't get rid of him either.

But that did make him useful in other ways.

"Mister Williamson," Ashely began, acting her usual, bland self. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour?"

"And what would that be, Redmond?" He asked, clearly distracted as his eyes were on the floor, and a specific employee.

"I was hoping that you could approve two weeks leave for me, effective next Monday."

He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, Ashely, but I can't do that. We can't give you that much time off at such short notice. It'd play hell with the rosters and we'd need to get a temporary greeter. And besides, you should be speaking to your shift manager, not me."

"Well yeah, I know, but I thought you might be able to do it for me," She replied. "After all, you gave Shawnee two weeks off at short notice last month." Ashely patted her belly to emphasize the point.

Williamson visibly flinched at her, nervously looking around as sweat beaded his brow. "Of course, yes, well, I'll get on that right away, Ashely. Yes. Excuse me." Clearly flustered, he headed off, head glancing around to see if anyone else was watching.

And behind him, Crimson crept to the surface for a moment, spreading a triumphant grin on Ashley's face.

-----

Slicer would have been reluctant to call what was going in a party, but he was having a lot of fun regardless. The members of his old team had met in a bar, obstinately for a few drinks and a catch-up. Instead, it had turned into the five of them sharing jokes, talking about their past runs and bragging about their various exploits along the way. And, inevitably, the conversation had turned to the current big thing going on in his life.

“Aw just admit it,” Stomper began, winking at Slicer with his good eye. “That girls’ pretty hot for a Dandelion Muncher. You’re not just looking at her as a student!” The Ork laughed, taking another chug from his bottle before sitting back on his chair. He glanced over again and grinned, the expression made somewhat lopsided by the missing right side of his head that let it trail off into a bloody ruin of torn flesh and splintered bone.

“That’s not fair and you know it,” Normie replied, a bottle of cider in hand. “Slicer’s a pro, and if he sees her as a student, then that’s all there is to it.” The Decker’s blackened, scorched arm raised the bottle to his face, even if his lips were locked in a permanent grimace, his eyes wedged wide open in perpetual shock. “And I think he’s doing a great job with her.”

“Aw come on, we all know Slicer's got an eye for the Elf chicks,” Stumps cut in, his dismembered arm clutching his favorite stein. “The instant he sees a cute girl with pointy ears, he’s locked onto her like a drone set to kill. Well, save for that one time in that club…” The burned stump at the end of the limb moved in a way that suggested a shrug.

“What can I say?” Slicer cut in with a self-depreciating laugh. “He did fill out that dress nicely." He took another swig from his beer

“And he did have such a tight little ass,” Billy Blaster added, his bloated, grey finger poking Slicer in the shoulder. “And trust me, I’d know”

“See?” Slicer pointed at Billy. “He’s a total horn dog who’ll jump anything that comes near him, regardless of sex, metatype or whatever else”

“Trust me, guys,” Billy grinned through ragged, torn lips. “You haven’t lived until an Oni-”

“Too much information!” Normie cut back, crossing his legs to make the point then shaking his head. Several small whisps of smoke escaped from the flaking skin before he continued. “But really, I think that Slicer’s doing a great job with her. She’s definitely come a long way since he first met her.”

“Yeah, so when do we get to meet little miss protégé?” Stomper asked, leaning forward so that Slicer could get a good look at the mush that was once his brain. “I mean, obviously she’s never gonna be on the team, but still, I’d like to see what she can do.”

“Same here,” Billy agreed, trying his best to meet Slicer’s gaze without having any eyes left. “Besides, if Slicer’s not gonna go after her, then hey! More for the bad boy of Rock and Running, am I right?”

“Damn right, chummer.” Stumps’ hand gave Billy a thumbs-up. “Just like the good old days. I can’t think how many times we had to pull you out of someone’s bed so we could get to the run.”

“That’d be why I had his communicator tagged, remember,” Normie pointed out. “So if we had no clue where you were, we could try to find you through the Matrix at least”. His scorched-black finger tapped the molten, fused mess that had once been a datajack in his forehead.

“Remember the time that Stumps sent in the drones to get him out of bed?” Stomper laughed

“Or when we found out that he was sleeping with that Johnson’s wife?” Slicer added. “And we had to go to insane lengths to keep that from him?”

“Good Johnson is hard to find,” Billy shot back. “You gotta treat ‘em well, or else they’ll frag you in the hoop”

“And you gotta treat their wives better, right?” Stumps somehow laughed, despite not having a head or torso

“Good times, huh guys?” Slicer shook his head. “I mean, I know it’s been a while, but it’s really great to have you all together like this. Remember the good old days, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Billy half nodded, half lolled in his chair. “Good times.”

“Though…” Normie spoke up, “I mean, it’s not really all of us. We really should invite Jessie to these things too.”

There was a short, tense silence. “Way to kill the mood, Chummer,” Stomper spat out of the remaining side of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Billy gave an eyeless glare at the scorched Decker. “You know why she’s not here.”

“Sorry,” He sheepishly admitted. “Wasn’t thinking, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” Slicer finished. “Besides which, you know how it goes. Never bring a girl to a blokes’ night, am I right?” That bought a chorus of cheers from the team. “Though Normie? You’re buying the next round”

-----

Slicer sat up in bed, ignoring the usual storm of warnings coming from his Cyberware, instead massaging his temples. Half of it was trying to fight his way through the inevitable hangover, but the bigger concern was the images still lodged in his mind, those of his one-time ream-mates as he had last seen them.

And now he was associating those images with somebody else, the girl that he was doing everything to help get into the dame lifestyle that had left so many of his friends dead.

"Ghost, Slicer," he muttered to himself. "What the hell are you doing?"