Welcome to the Stray Dogs a small Runner outfit hidden away within SoDo in the Emerald City of Seattle. You've lived in SoDo for all your life, never really making enough scratch to get farther into the city than the Industrial District. Luckily the Stray Dogs found you before anything worse did. Taking you in, they provide you with a small amount of protection in the seedy district and toss a couple jobs your way to get a little cash in your pockets. What's the worst that could happen?
Working for the Stray Dogs hasn't been so bad - money's been steady and no one knows names, or at least you don't think so.
You'd been called on by "Akita" to meet the contact in some dark warehouse off the ports. Akita and you have never met but you've come to recognize her slanted scrawl and elegant A in the lower corners of her communications. That's probably been the best part of the Stray Dogs, no names, no faces, just jobs; the couple of times you've had to work with others they never met you and as far as you are concerned you never met them.
The warehouse is broken and crumbling; from the looks of the fence surrounding it the place is due for a demo soon. Getting in was easy enough, and there doesn't seem to be any security. In the center of the main floor of the warehouse is a walky-talky with a small blinking green light. Once you are in view of it it crackles to life.
"Hello there - you must be the hired help; I'm glad you've at least decided to show. We've got a job to offer you, but first - oblige me - have you heard of the "McHugh Fratelli Job" - it must have happened almost a year back now?"
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A Good Number of Jobs Ago
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You'd received a communication from some Decker named "Akita" asking if you had been looking for work. If finding jobs yourself hadn't been so rough you might have just ignored it - but it had seemed like one of those spam ads you'd gotten time and again for some job or another.
Once you'd replied a name, date, and location had been given to you. When you arrived to the small shop on the outskirts of the Market Distric you were rather taken aback. "Hampton's Holistic Healthcare" read the little neon sign above the shop. The "Hamp-" had seemed to have died and the rest of the sign was flickering ominously. When you entered the shop a mechanical bell gave a small ring and a rather unkept elf scurried out of the back of the shop.
The Elf was clean shaven and wearing a nice - if not wrinkled suit; he seemed like it had been days since he'd seen a good nights sleep. The shop was in much worse condition - broken glass littered the floors and shelves were knocked over or pushed out of place. Spots seemed cleaner than the others as though someone was in the process of fixing everything but hadn't finished.
"Hampton - uh - George Hampton." The man said with a nod. He wringed his hands anxiously. "Please, sit. We've things to discuss." He rights a plush armchair and pulls up a small stool for himself. Once you're seated he begins, "So - uh - I guess I'll just get to it. I've never really done this sort of thing, but I need your help. It's just...you see" he stutters before finally taking a deep breath and sighing, "The Mob has taken my daughter, Moxie." He looks up to you with watery eyes. "You see, I pay them protection money. We all do - us shop owners; but business has been slow lately, and I couldn’t pay this month’s fee. The Fratellis are holding her hostage until I can pay them." He gives a small gasp, "They said they'd do terrible things if I don't pay up. Like I said, I don't have much - certainly not enough to get them off my back - I - just want my girl back.". He pauses as he runs a nervous hand through his messy hair, "I can pay 500 upfront, and another 500 when the job is done - it's just about all I have. If it's not enough I can always provide some consultations and maybe a free tonic or two when you need them."
He looks desperately at you; obviously you are his last hope.
Johnny sits patiently as the elf explains his story. The man deserved a chance to make a case for himself after all. He doesn't show anything beyond interest, however, and only once Hampton has finished does he speak, his voice deep and gravelly with only a slight accent to hint at his European upbringing:
"Tell me, Mr. Hampton, do you know how much it usually costs to hire a runner?"
The elf's eyes fall and his shoulders slump as he sighs, "No - not - not really. I will admit I had thought they would send a team or at least a couple of runners. I could liquidate some assests." He grimaces and moves behind a counter. He pulls out a little red book and flips through it. "I-I can scrape together 2k up front, 2k if - when - you get my daughter back." He snaps the little book shut and stows it below his counter. "I might even be able get you a little something extra if it comes to anything more than words. Business should pick up with the Fratelli's off my back - just, please, make it look like someone else did it; I don't need anything coming back to me or my shop."
"3,000 nuyen for a trip to the grocery store, Mr. Hampton. That's the price per runner, mind you."
He pauses for a moment, crossing and uncrossing his legs.
"The reason I say so is for our mutual benefit, that you may better know your bargaining position." Abruptly he gets up from his seat and examines some of the contents of the shop "I assume you possess all of the proper licenses and permits to operate this store front, Mr. Hampton? Or, you have access to convincing fakes, at least." Johnny pauses again, considering something. A legitimate, licensed medical professional was certainly useful, especially considering the constant stream of semi-legal drugs that Johnny had been buying off of random black market dealers until now. "Here is my offer:"
"I'll take 500ny up front, later if things become particularly difficult you'll pay for any expenses as well. Further, once this business is done you will make your storefront available to me, regardless of what it is that I ask you to acquire."
George's eyes light up, "Of course, that's more than agreeable!" He scampers back around the counter and comes to your side, holding out his hand, "So we have a deal? You'll retreive my daughter and teach those Fratelli's a lesson?" His hand is shaking noticeably, but his face is set and determined.
Johnny gets up and shakes the mans hand, meeting his gaze.
"I'll do what I can."
A smile breaks across George's face, "Thank you - thank you so much." He shakes your hand vigorously. After he clasps his hands together and gestures towards the door, "Now, I'd say the best lead would be to follow Vic Fratelli. Vic's a few slugs short of a full clip so following him should be easy enough. He should have some information on where my daughter is."
George pulls out a small screen and shows you a map of the discrict. He points out a cross street saying, "I'd start here at McHugh's on 3rd and South Stacy St. in the Industrial Disctrict.
As you leave he gives a small wave, "Good luck, and I hope to see you again soon."
Once the pleasantries are done Johnny heads towards the cross street Hampton had described.
You make it to the McHugh's with no issue, the building looks like it's been recently renovated. To your knowledge the fast food restaraunt chain has never served actual meat since it's inception. They are most famous for their Hugh Sliders which come in packs of 3, but quickly turn your stomach on it's side after one. What they lack in nutritional value though is made up with McHugh's special blend of 23 chemicals and extracts that give their food it's unique and satisfying taste - that and it's dirt cheap to eat at any of their convient establishments.
The parking lot is realativly empty save for a couple of bikes, as you come around the corner you can see Vic Fratelli making his way inside. He's a farily prominate figure in SoDO as an important member of the Fratelli family. As he enters you see a sign next to the door in bright red and yellow lettering saying "Welcome to McHugh's - Bring your hunger, but leave your guns at home!" with a picture of their cartoony clown mascot.
Johnny heads inside quickly after. The sign provided no real deterrent, as far as it was concerned the revolver holstered under his jacket was perfectly legal.
As Johnny is about to step through the door he easily notices a blinking red light just past the entry. As he stops it's quite noticeable that the door is outfited with a fairly high-tech Metal Detector as per McHugh's Saftey Standards. Just beyond the door an imposing man if standing in full combat armor and weaponry painted in McHugh's standard Vibrant Yellow and HoverEngine Red.
Johnny subtly switches his cyber eyes over to AR mode and attempts to crack his way past through the security system.
Failing that, he'll turn to the outside of the building in search of another way in.
You make your way around the back of the building and notice a back door is slightly ajar with thick, oily smoke pouring out of it. Getting closer you see that it opens into the kitchen area and one of the workers is busy putting out a grease fire. Looking past the kitchen you can see a direct line into the dining area. Some tables are occupided with various people, and in the back corner you can just make out Vic as he enjoys a meal.
To your left looks to be a freezer with a large padlock on it, and to your right is an office with a window that looks out over the kitchen area. The blinds seem to be closed at the moment.
Besides the sercurity officer, a handful of bystanders, and Vic there aren't many workers. There is one man moping up a particularly pewtrid area of the store, a disheveled man running the register, and a single cook. The workers strike you as odd as they seem a little older than the usual crowd who gets these sort of gigs.
Spotting only one preoccupied observer in the kitchen, Johnny decides to attempt sneaking from here. He drops low, hugging the ground and hoping that the smoke will go far in concealing his presence as he makes his way to the store proper.
If he makes it past the kitchen he'll quickly duck off to an unpopulated area to wait a few minutes before casually entering the dining room.
The man combating the raging inferno of a grease fire seems to be far to busy trying to prevent the fire from spreading to notice your entry.
You are now in the kitchen prep area. At the front counter you can see a man punching the keybad of a register very agressivley as a man looks uncomfortably around the room holding his hand in his pocket awkwardly. The man seems to be sweating bullets, but no-one really notices. The security guard is sitting at a table facing the door, every once in a while he glances up from a magazine he's reading and glances at the door for a moment before returning to his reading.
Vic sits in a far corner away from other patrons. He seems to be enjoying his meal.
Johnny makes his way out of the kitchen area as discretely as possible and attempts to find himself a seat where he can watch Vic without drawing unwanted gazes.
You successfully make your way to a seat and have a fine view of Vic. If you were a betting man you'd put money that Vic isn't in the finest of moods as he angrily chomps down on his food.
A few tables down from you the twitchy man from the register sits, still toying nervously with a hand in his pocket.
Johnny eyes the man wearily but decides not to intervene just yet. Instead he swaps over to AR and does another quick scan of the room.