The problem with shadowrunning is that everything happens at once. It isn’t like a desk job where you can queue your workflow. Life on the streets is faster; more volatile. That’s why I needed to make my way back to
I followed not-Larry from a distance. He met up with another slitch in an old Chevy Legend. They talked through the window for a bit and then the guy in the Legend let him in and they both drove off. My guess was they were going to tell the boss how it was. That worked for me. Tung was a thug, plain and simple. The fact that he was planning rousting me over a lucky break on the score meant he was trying to change the narrative. He was trying to make it seem like he was still strong; still in charge, despite whatever he might have lost over this situation. That meant he’d be sending extra muscle to clean up.
I walked the distance to Tony’s at a double time pace. By the time I arrived I was out of breath and the big Legend was loading up with passengers. They peeled out like they had somewhere to be in a hurry. That meant that Tung was at the bar with limited muscle. That was exactly how I wanted it.
I came in through the back door. It’s usually locked, especially at night, but I’d been hard up for drinks for a lot of years—enough to know how to pick that particular lock like as easy as opening my bathroom door. A few seconds later I was in. I stayed low, using my right hand to keep my longcoat secure around me where it couldn’t make any noise. I held out my Ruger in my left. The Super Warhawk was the kind of pistol you saw in movies. It made big noise and bigger holes. After you fired it your arm flew up and back, so the second shot wouldn’t even be close to the target. That didn’t happen in the movies, but in real life the hope was you wouldn’t need the second shot.
I’m usually not one for escalation, but like I said, I had a job coming up and the pay day was big enough that it needed all my focus. It’s hard to keep your eyes forward when you’re looking behind your back.
Two workers were hanging back here, cleaning up and running inventory scripts through their PANs. They saw me and backed away. I whispered to them to leave out the back. They complied instantly.
The swinging door between the front bar and the back area has a small dirty window, so you can see who is coming and avoid crashing into them. I peeked through the window quickly, getting a sense of who was still out there and where they were located. The time for planning faded into the time for action.
I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped through.