Cowboy Riptide

I adjusted my hood, trying to keep the burning rain off my head. The concrete in the alleyway smoked, rain etching patterns in the grime and soot. The contact was an hour late and I needed a smoke.

I was here because of Lonny. Well actually, because I owed Lonny a lot of yen. When I got caught crashing NatCon, I ran to the only place I knew I had a chance. That chance had a price I was still paying, six months later.

I came along on these deals to test the goods. Lonny’s street boys jacked too much skinstim to be anything but muscle. My job was to make sure the imagostims Lonny was buying were the real deal. If they were good, we bought. Sometimes we declined, that’s when the muscle did it’s job.

I was tired of this and feeling edgy. A cowboy on a six month dodge was caught in a riptide. Lonny had me hack some ice, but it was newbie chips. I needed to get back into the game before I got zeroed.

Trouble stalked out of the shadows. She was hard wired with some serious edge.

‘Ready to deal?’ she purred.

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