Shadowrun: Crocodile Tears: A Shadowrun Novella by Chris A. Jackson

Author:Chris A. Jackson [Jackson, Chris A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2020-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

We landed in Cayman six hours later. I’d contracted Hanji to lift us, and to standby in case we needed an emergency air evac from Misteriosa. From my crew, I brought Tipsy, Squish, a shark shaman named Bytes, two gunners, Dondy and Shank, who weren’t heavier-than-water chromed, Tweaker, an intrusion specialist, and Pak, who was a physical adept. Sadly—and against her protestations—I’d sent O.C. back to Montego Bay with the rest of my people. Swimming’s impossible with a hundred kilos of metal melded to your bones, and we might end up in the drink. This wasn’t her type of op.

We were met at the terminal by Henderson’s personal assistant, a fellow named Blake who looked skeptical, but had been ordered to be helpful. He walked us around customs and immigration, even though our papers, albeit forged, were in order. I don’t know if the tourists actually believed we were a reggae band arriving for a gig, but we looked the part. We’d even traded our duffle bags for instrument cases, but if they’d been X-rayed, the tech would probably have had a heart attack.

Henderson’s man escorted us out to the bustling curbside. A sharp whistle caught my ear, and I espied Ice Cream, garbed in her usual white Armorani, waving from the running board of a roll-up panel truck. How she kept so spiffy clean, I’ll never know. Since we’d been using her fixer, Skeeve, to set up most of this op’s talent outside my own crew, Ice Cream had volunteered to come along. Aside from her contacts, she was one of the best I’d ever run with, a welcome addition. I thanked Blake and we hefted our bags.

Ice Cream hopped down as we approached and rolled up to the back of the vehicle.

“Good ta see you, Tiya.” I shoved my bag into the back and scooped her up in a hard embrace. “T’anks for comin’. No profit on dis one, and we wadin’ into a shitstorm.”

“No problem, mon.” When I put her down, she greeted the rest of the crew, then turned back to me. “Twizzler and Goombay are already aboard. We’re good to go.”

“Raja dat!” The two hired shamans were non-combatants on this run, as were Bytz and Squish. They would stay aboard our ride and provide cover and recon, magical and network, respectively. I waved my crew aboard and took a seat up front with Tiya. “Your rigger’s online, I ’ope.”

“Ready and waiting just north of the sound. Water’s too shallow for Deep Rose, and it’d be best if nobody ashore saw us board. I chartered a fishing boat to ferry us out. Local guy. Solid.” She jammed the rental truck in gear and pulled into the traffic. “You look tired.”

“Didn’t sleep much. Too many air miles, and I don’t fly so good. I be alright once we on de wata.” We would have a few hours aboard Deep Rose in transit, and I planned to burn a spliff and get some quick shuteye. “Ya sure Rose okay with dis run? She try’n kill ya once already, an’ she worked for de Kofo ta boot.

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