Burn It Down — Behind the Curtain

God this place sucks ….” Jason mumbled to himself. The smell of the scrapyard penetrated his clothes and never truly washes out. He half-heatedly walked on his patrol with his partner for the day, Davis, and the god awful mutt, Redd. Redd wasn’t your normal scrapyard mutt, he was a bitch of a hellhound. The pay sucked just as much, which is why he accepted the offer from the Russian fella. The side job was simple, to take money from his ganger connections and pass out packets of Tempo to them. The scrapyard owner set aside some space in one of the empty warehouses to store the stuff. Once a week or so, a truck load of the drek would get delivered and the warehouse would be restocked. When the shift ended, Jason would make his way back to the coffin motel room and drink until he passes out. Rinse, Lather, Repeat … Day in and Day out.

Today was just another day. Jason received a message from Gopher that he was just about there. He grabbed a bag of Tempo and stepped outside. The guard lit up a cigarette and looked about, waiting for the ganger to show up.

Frag this city” He muttered and took a long drag as he looked around, he spotted Gopher coming down the street.

Got a smoke, bro?” Gopher asked.

He fished one out and passed it over. The ganger lit it up and took a long drag off of it. “Man, today has been a rough day.

Oh yeah?” Jason asked. He didn’t really give a drek, but needed to stay on good terms with these fraggers for now. Before Gopher could get into the details, he pulled the bag of drugs from his pocket and looked around. Sensing that he didn’t want to hear his story, Gopher passed over the credstick in exchange for the bag. Jason checked the creds on it and nodded. He finished the cigarette and flicked it out into the street.

Gopher headed back up the street and Jason headed back into the scrapyard. He generally has to go and drop the credstick in the warehouse, but had to stop by the smelting room first. Redd likes to sleep in here. Jason personally hated it in here … way to fraggin hot. He woke the beast from its slumber and they proceeded over to the warehouse. He dropped the credstick in the box and left. Davis was waiting for him and they met up to resume the “patrol”. Not sure why they called it a patrol, it wasn’t like anyone could just look across the yard.

A few hours later, a message came in from Maximovich, the Russian fella. It was time to handoff and meet up with the rest of the syndicate. Jason grabbed the stack of credsticks from the box and headed towards the entrance. He could hear the Russian coming. That god awful classical music blasting out of his fraggin car. “Drek …” he thought to himself. He knew what was going to happen. He was going to get into the car and Maximovich was going to go on and on about how this era of music was the best there ever was.

Journey this … blah blah blah
Journey that … blah blah blah
Steve Perry … blah blah blah
Boston this and that … blah blah blah

Its the same drek over and over again. A visible cringe appears as the lyrics bounced off his eardrums.

Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard … Their shadows searching in the night

Goddammit,” he mumbled to himself as he left the scrapyard. He jumped into the Ford Americar and they drove away. Twenty minutes later, Maximovich got a message on his commlink. “Stash is destroyed, location compromised

MOTHER FRAGGIN FRACKFACES!” he whipped the car around and hauled ass back to the scrapyard. The car squealed to a stop in front of the gate and he was out of the car and in the gate before Jason could even get unbuckled. The heat from the inferno could be felt out here. The smoke billowed into the sky. “What the frag happened?” He yelled to one of the other guards. There was no answer as he burst through the door. Everyone was working to put out the fire and nearly had it under control. The Russian was already on his terminal frantically pulling data from the host. He looked at Jason and started moving towards the gate. The pair got back into the car and sped away.

Get a hold of Gopher, need to have his crew find out who these fraggers are.” He displayed a playback of the sensors on the rear of the scrapyard. Most of it wasn’t useful, but there was a slight moment that he froze on. The image showed a bright red female figure with blue hair and … four arms … “This bitch shouldn’t be too hard to track down. I want her dead dammit… I want her DEAD! I want her family DEAD! I want her house burned to the GROUND! I wanna go there in the middle of the night and I wanna PISS ON HER ASHES!

Maximovich dropped Jason off near Gopher’s hideout. “Man, this lunatic is pissed!” He walked into the hideout and explained to Gopher and his crew what happened. When he displayed the playback, a very large troll stepped from behind everyone to get a closer look. Gopher looked up at him. “Say … isn’t that the person you fought the other day, Mutt?

Yes … Yes, it was” he said.

Jason looked them over. “So the boss wants this crew out of commission, so here is what we need to do …

Everything fades to black as everyone gathered around.

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