Best Served Cold

You Can Find Me in the Club

Drunken Shenanigans?

It had been a bad week for the team.

The issue with Michelle/Rachel, whatever, was hashed out unsatisfactorily to all parties involved and left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. Trust was at an all time low.

Despite that, after achieving a victory of sorts against Brynn’s literal killers, the team decided to dig deeper and figure out who was responsible. Help came from an unlikely source, as the assassin Mariposa invited them to visit with Octagon 426, an enforcer, in a teahouse in downtown Seattle.

Arriving at the meeting, they were surprised to find that the 426 was a petite Chinese woman. Flanked by two bruised goons, she explained her position.

The Temple they had ransacked was, indeed, neutral ground for the Triad and as part of their agreements, the Octagon, Yellow Lotus, and 88s rotated security. When the team hit the Temple, it just so happened that it was the Octagons that were responsible for protecting the Temple grounds. Ultimately, the 426 offered them a deal, slights forgiven should the team return the fan they stole and identify the one who ordered it stolen.

As an added incentive, she offered to pay them a retainer and a flat amount upon completion.

So that went well. … enough.

The only other thing to go well for them that week was a call from Zarcain to Julio Fernandez, the man who had orchestrated their first job. Not overly pleased to hear from them, Zarcain offered 10,000 nuyen for information on the man Oda had sketched based on the go-ganger they had interrogated. Ian Miller, a name that the 426 knew, but nothing more… Julio had a further lead, a club in Bellevue.

So began the shenanigans. Checking out the club yielded very little the first night. The proprietors were a pair of men, perhaps in their 30s, fashionably dressed and impeccably groomed. They were accompanied by two beautiful young women and overshadowed by bodyguards. Zarcain was unable to get close. He did learn that they had a back area guarded by a masked troll in pressed Berwick fashions. The only real incident that evening was a failed attempt by Razz to get in through the kitchen entrance.

The second night, Zarcain opted for a… ‘bolder’ approach. Meeting with one of the two proprietors, he threatened to blow their club up while it was in full swing if they did not offer up information on Ian Miller. The man smiled and returned to his own seat, content to call the bluff. The rest of the team weren’t overly pleased by Zarcain’s maneuver but never learned if he was truly intent on carrying it out as Ricky jumped the gun and attempted to plow his Bulldog through the wall of the club.

His Kool-Aid Man moment faltered when he failed to reach enough speed to actually blow through the building, instead crashing and nearly killing himself and Rock. Quick thinking from Razz and Michelle saved their lives, but nothing could be done for a handful revelers who had been crushed under the wheels of the Bulldog and between the vehicle and the implacable wall. The two moved away into the night, uncertain of their next move.

Surveillance over the next few days netted them a hit when a black Nightsky pulled up to the club Tuesday evening, the first of two consecutive nights the club wasn’t actually open. The two individuals loaded up, along with their security detail, and drove away.

What they didn’t see, before they left, was the fly spy that settled onto the frame beneath the vehicle and locked on, guiding the team to a chateau in the mountains east of Seattle.

With a new target in mind, the team moved to track them down.

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