Run 2

Loco opens a fresh soybeer and washes down the last of his Loco Burrito daily special, Cortes-ichanga. Chacho pushes an empty plate away and asks, "So Mr. Big Time Shadowrunner, what went down with the last job that you're so damn eager to spill?"

Loco smirks slightly and talks past the remaining food he is still chewing on, "Hold the hell on, punk, I'm getting to it."

"Hey I got your fraggin' punk under the table, puto."

Loco smiles and takes another drink from his beer. "A'ight. Here's the deal."

"I'm just doing my thing and I get this call from some Russian guy [The Bolshevik] about a job. Get my hoop over to some club right away, watch over some chica during a meet, and I get 5 large."

Chacho chuckles, causing his shamanic gewgaws to jiggle. "Sounds a little too sweet, vato."

Loco rubs the back of his neck with a mock look of embarrassment. "Yeah, maybe so, but high risk for high pay ain't nothing new for me. Although trying to help someone not get dead is a whole new dealio."

"Anyway, so I get to the club [Void Walkers] and I'm the only guy protecting her. That suit sniper guy finally calls me to let me know he's in the club and on the job. Fraggin' pansy wouldn't come down out of the rafters though, and I wasn't gonna dis my paycheck to go find the little puto. So there I am with a big fraggin target on my chest. I slip away a little to scan the room and keep an eye on anyone that approaches her. A few minutes later, this dirty scrawny Elf walks up to her and slip into his shadow, ready to geek him. Turns out he's another guardian."

"So things weren't looking too bad, even though sniper puto is still refusing to come out and be a target like the rest of us."

Chacho smirks, "Damn esse, you should just take that punk down next time."

"Yeah, I just might. I'm not in this to be some fraggin puto's whipping post."

"Anyway, so this Elf guy, who I find out is a shaman named Corg, goes off into the crowd. I think he's going to scope things out himself, but it turns out he heads into the middle of the dance floor and calls up this big ass Spirit that everyone sees, including the bouncers which throw his silly ass out of the club."

"Damn esse, I hope you didn't pick these punks yourself."

"Nah, I didn't have a whole lotta choice. I don't think she did either, it was definitely something that got fragged up and she was in a world of hurt. Anyway, so it's back to just me and her. So I wait until about five minutes before the meeting and then we relocate to minimize our exposure."

"Sounds tight.

"Maybe, I was making shit up as I went. I get paid to take out people like this, esse."

"True dat."

"A'ight, so I kick some yuppies out of their booth and we slide in. The people she's supposed to meet show up and take a seat. No sooner do we stand up to walk over then everything turns to shit."

"Two shooters whip out gats not ten meters away and, according to Corg, a big ass Toxic Spirit raced over to attack the guys the woman was gonna meet. I tell her to get out of the door and I get ready to start dropping people."

Chacho leans forward, interest lighting up his eyes as the story turns to combat.

"The crowd of yuppies stops me from dropping the shooter but is not as effective as I had hoped at shielding the woman and she gets clipped, but she makes it to the exit. I manage to drop both shooters, but by then two more are moving through the crowd towards me and a big fraggin' Troll is walking in through the exit with a flame-thrower."

Chacho's face registers surprise, "What?!"

"No shit, esse, a fraggin' flame-thrower. Anyway, I move under a table to cover my back since the punk-ass putos I'm with haven't got my back. I keep my gun low and do my best impression of a dumb ass suit hiding under a table. Meanwhile the Trog clips the chica with his flame-thrower and she drops. The Trog buys my act and I manage to get off a burst right into his throat. He drops, so I pick her up and make for the door. Some shooter on the balcony clips me with his shotgun, but it's not enough to stop me and I make it outside and to the ER with her. Turns out, she was dead."

Chacho smiles, "Not much of a bodyguard, eh esse?"

"Back the frag off, punk. There's only so many people I can kill at one time. And who knew the chica would be slow or fragile? The women around here know how to keep their damn heads down and not get dead."

Chacho answers, "Yeah, but that's ee-voh-lu-shun, esse. The slow and stupid ones already ate a cap. Up in suitsville, the weak and slow can still make a fast buck and pay someone to get their back."

"Yeah, well, I don't feel too sorry for her. She dropped the ball on whatever she was handling and I did one helluva job dealing with what I had to. She brought down the hammer on herself and I'm content to not have gotten squished right alongside her."

Chacho looks puzzled.

"Right, well it turns out she was probably part of some team that hit a corporate facility and took some wiz drek. The kinda stuff you expect. Only, most of the team gets geeked or put into the hospital. All except her. We were called in last minute and she probably wasn't too clear on how dangerous it was. Her bitch ass almost got me geeked. So I figure I was the one getting screwed, so not being dead is good enough for me."

Chacho nods grimly, "Fraggin ey, esse, those putos don't give a damn if another SINless latino is face down in the gutter. Still man, you did try right?"

Loco looks a little irritated, a grim cold fire burns in his eyes and even the streetwise Chacho looks taken aback slightly. "Course I tried. I even got a souvenir." Loco pulls up his shirt to show a purple region on his right side. "Punk up in the balcony clipped me. He's damn lucky I was worried about that chica, else we would have exchanged some rounds."

Chacho nods quietly, realizing he's touched a nerve and not eager to test the limits of his friendship with Loco.

Loco calms back down and continues, "Anyway, so like I said, she's pronounced and the other two finally hook up with me. Hairs was so fragged up, I didn't feel like coming down on him. Turns out, he thought he'd go all Deathwish on this fraggin' Toxic Shaman and his Adept bodyguard. He got shot, burned, and damn near dissolved for his efforts. Boy was fragged UP and his suit and 'do weren't looking all that good. Hairspray and fire magic are a bad combination. Maybe he should change his name to Patches or Spots." Loco smiles and then breaks into laughter.

Chacho joins him and the two feed off one another, laughing until their faces are red. The tension and uncertainty of their existence flow out of them like a river and when they finally stop and dry their eyes with their own comical vision of the a singed suit, they are smiling and emotionally refreshed.

"Anyway, so we hop in the suit's ride and take off towards the Russian guy's place. Hairs calls some contacts and keeps going on about this deal and that."

Chacho asks, "What about the Shaman?"

"Oh yeah, turns out he was Astral and he rolled in when this big ass Toxic Spirit came on the scene and took off after the guys that were making the buy from our chica. Corg got his ass kicked and last he saw, the buyer's bodyguard was going down and it didn't look good for the buyer."

Chacho's eyes widen, "Well damn, esse, don't go too hard on him. If he's stepping off with a Toxic Spirit, then he's got cajones if nothing else."

Loco smiles wryly, "Yeah, I suppose. I didn't give him much of a hard time. I was distracted by having a case in my lap from the chica. Turns out that it was red hot and worth too much cred. Any minute a strike team could come down the line straight up or with a ritual link."

Chacho nods, "Hell yeah, esse, that's messed up."

"Tell me about it, Chach'. So suit's going on about this and that. I gotta hand it to him that he's the one that jacked the info on the chica and the case, so at least he knows some useful people. But he won't shut up about how this guy or that guy can get this much or that much in so many hours or days. I'm thinking, frag that, I'll take my chances with someone that isn't some freaky suit's buddy. Besides, if this Russian guy hands out jobs, I want him to be happy with my work, right."

Chacho answers, "I scan that. The more they like you the more they give a flip if you live or die. And that's all good."

"Damn straight Chach'. But suit's must talk a different language, cuz it's like he ain't even understanding me. Anyway, we get to this Russian guy's place and we're driving around it. Heffe's got the whole damn building to himself and I'm thinkin' if any damn body I know can take this timebomb off me and deal with it, it's this hombre. But damn, suit's STILL going on about his buddy and this and that."

Chacho chuckles, "Damn esse, you shoulda just geeked him. There's plenty of suits to take his place."

Loco nods, "No doubt, but then he'd probably stay alive just long enough to whine about me messing up his hair and I'd have to shoot myself."

Chacho chuckles, "Damn, that'd be a shame."

Loco smirks, "Shut the hell up cat-banger."

Chacho quickly answers, "You're momma's a cat? Damn, who knew?"

Loco, "Sorry man, can't be my mom, she only does real men, puto. Now shut the hell up so I can finish my story. So I explain to he suit that whoever gets this case may have a whole world of drek to deal with and ask him if he wants to hand that off to his friend. I also explain that his car is gonna stop and me and the case are going inside to talk to the Russian, one way or another. So he finally stops and we go in. It was a little strange for a minute. Fraggers took my guns before I could talk to the guy. I need to get me a gat that gets past scanners."

"Anyway, we give him the case, he offers us 45 large and I take it before he changes his mind. Hairs goes on about how it's worth a half a million, but I figure, half a million is worth squat to a dead man."

Chacho replies, "Fifteen large for a few hours work? I'll take that."

"Yeah right, don't forget the almost getting geeked part."

Chacho answers, "Ah, I'd just hang back and let you take care of that."