Three thousand nuyen never came so easy.
It's amazing how many ways one can sneak into areas where one is unwanted. Sometimes it takes a smile and a stable demeanor (along with 'borrowed' credentials), and other times it takes crawling through forgotten passageways. This entrance was simpler: plentiful shadows, drowsy crew, and a fence easily jumped with one's 'expertise'.
Granted, it would have taken her less time than it did I. She would have done it faster, more efficiently, with not a lock of hair on her head astray.
Enough about her. Back to the Run.
I usually work alone - groups slow me down. Some shadowrunners are adept at charging into areas, guns a-blazing and grenades being tossed gods-knows-where. Other shadowrunners are adept at butting their deck-techno-icons against the buttresses of security or slinging manabolts while instructing some watery construct to do their bidding.
Me? I'm just adept. And silent. I also wasn't here.
The corpse isn't too hard to find - this morgue isn't as large as others. I find 4A and open it. Empty. Strange, the manifest says otherwise. Same happens with the next three - it's not until 4E that I find what I'm looking for.
Holding the still from the trid up to his face - it's him alright. Unzipping the bodybag the rest of the way, I pull out his arm and ready the tanto. It cuts through his flesh as easily as it would a block of nutrisoy, and out pops the credstick. I quickly pocket the goods before carefully putting the body exactly how I found it.
On the way out, I prop a pillow underneath the coroner's head and drop a dose of Bliss nearby. That blackjack blow is going to hurt in the morning.
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