[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:53, Docklands]
Driving along the north bank of the Thames, Al took the left turn at the off-license, then a quick right onto his street. It was all light industrial, and ran along an artificial inlet off the river. The buildings on the landward side were warehouses, machine shops, various fix-it joints, many with residences on the upper floors. About half were abandoned, which meant squatted, with the other half still in active use.
The side of the street on the water side had much the same make-up, except that with access to the river most of the businesses were oriented toward maritime needs - boat repair and outfitting, mostly. Probably some smuggling - he'd never asked.
His own building was on the water side. By the time he got there Snow was behind him, and he recognized the Frenchman's Korean job already across the street. The street facing had one walk-in door, and four roll-up doors for vehicle access - he used his comm to open three and led the way in with his new Toyota Elite. Once the other two cars were in, he rolled the doors back down behind them.
Inside was a large auto mechanic shop, though there had been no physical or AR signage outside to hint that it was open. There were four service bays complete with hydraulic lifts, digital diagnostic stations on casters, and tools more or less scattered everywhere. Deeper in, there was an indoor dock with a speedboat tied up, secured on the water side by another heavy roll-up door. A crane straddled the interior waterway.
Up the left-hand wall ran a flight of metal grill steps to a landing with two doors leading off of it.
As shadowrunners and shadowrunnees wearily climbed out of the three cars, Al lit a fresh cigarette and spoke with the Frenchman. "Sustain? Hell, what I got in here wouldn't sustain a family o' river rats. Mostly a take-out man, muhself," he said, glancing meaningfully at a metal bin overflowing with styrofoam containers. "But the delivery boys obviously know how ta git here, an' I always pay cash. Or we kin make run down ta the off-license - they got a real fine range o' soyrittos. Onna plus side, as ya kin see, we got no shortage o' space." He motioned with his cigarette at the doors on the landing. "One onna left's mine, other one's empty, got an en suite, I kin toss out a mattress, family kin stay in there. Seats in that there Elite, hell, I reckon I'd git a better night's sleep on them than on my own damned bed." He shrugged. "Ain't the Ritz, but no one'll freeze, an' safe as anywhere fer now."
