My Enemy

What's this thing do again?

Friday July 18th 2064, 10:30 pm.

“Hello, this is Mr Johnson, an associate of mine and recent employer of yours, Mr Johnson, recommends your skill and professionalism at the highest level. Therefore I do hope that you are available at short notice, as I have an emergent situation and little time to respond.

An individual approached us with the opportunity to purchase a rather intriguing and unique prototype, and all related research. We agreed and settled on a price and a delivery plan. Minutes ago said individual contacted me to say that he had lost control of the goods in a gang war-zone in the Redmond barrens just southeast of Touristville. Once onsite he can direct you to the location of the goods.

If you are on site within an hour I am willing to pay 15k for your time and good faith effort at recovering the prototype. Should you confirm (absolutely, suspicion is not sufficient) it’s destruction I will pay an additional 15k, but if you recover the prototype and the plans and deliver them to me I will pay an additional 30k instead. "


Our team met with the disgruntled engineer / burnout sim junkie, who led them to an abandoned parking garage surrounded by a demolition team of Red Hot Nukes, who explained that they were destroying this building, for fear that if anything were to leave the building it might bring about the apocalypse. Crazy or no they were skeet shooting bottles with rocket launchers, and the shadowrunners decided slipping past them was the wiser course of action.

In the garage they avoided several booby traps, before getting in a gunfight with the mutant troll Rusted Stilettos who the dwarves followed here. The Stilettos who were already missing several limbs before the team arrived put up relatively little fight.

Finding the super secret hiding place to be out in the open the party was already considering killing their friendly junkie engineer, but when the case was missing and then ghost of his dead partner rose from the dead body to accuse him of murder, it eliminated the runners need to make the call. Afterwards the ghost, apparently a spirit, told the party where they could go to get the case.

Sneaking by the Nukes they hiked over to the nearby courthouse to enter into negotiations with an anthropomorphic giant hot dog named Mustard, who traded the case for a crate of apples, and a couple juicy bits of gossip. Then he accepted a few more bits of gossip and a candy bar for the contents of the case (while feeling overly pleased with himself). Mr J was happy and all was well.

Rook, Bo, Lincoln

5 xp. 18,000 Nuyen Ea (- lifestyle).

What's this thing do again?

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