Al had to stand on his tiptoes, but his burn-scarred hand slapped Isaint's with gusto.
His shop was burning down all around them. A fiery rafter dropped to the floor not three meters away. But the little man was grinning. "Heh, that were one hell of a scrap. amigo. Now, if'n you'll pardon me, lots ta do, an' gittin' mighty hot in here.
Where to start? After the spirit gave up trying to catch the nimble Al in its grasp, it had burned an hole in the wall to take up a position away from the water spray and started shooting fire bolts at him. That had been the last straw, and Al had hit the drink, joining his dog in the water. He had just been switching to internal air when, looking up through the water's surface, he'd seen the spirit break apart like a Fourth of July firework.
No idea how that had happened, but he'd realized a while ago that if you tried understanding everything that happened in this business, you'd drive yourself crazy. And of course Al wasn't crazy.
Isaint's hand had reached down for him, and he'd gladly accepted it, since climbing out on his own would have been tricky with his huge damned dog clinging like a soaked baby to his back, and whining about as loudly. At least the stinky beast has finally had a bath. Once they were back on the dock, the way that animal shook the water off, Al thought maybe he'd put the damned fire out.
First thing, he checked the seals on the satchels for his medkit and bomb bag. No problem, and his commlink was rated for a lot deeper than he'd just been. But his cigarettes - now he was angry.
The smoke was thick in the burning building, so he stayed on internal air. Hell, he'd have hightailed it out right then, but he knew if he overstayed and got trapped he could always go back into the water.
He activated the jacks holding his Bulldog aloft, but they were jammed somehow. Shit. He climbed up, and spent thirty seconds removing his morph plates and spoof chip, then tossed down a couple of bags of tools. It was getting real hot now, but the lining in his jacket made all the difference, and it didn't hurt that he was soaking wet. Loaded it all into the trunk of the Elite and told its autopilot to make its way over to Horace's place.
He cast off the moorings on his boat, then took the fire extinguisher to a couple of small fires that had started on the deck and in the seating. Thanks to the spirit, no need to open the water door. He called out to Isaint and Solo, "By land or by sea, compadres, your call," and started nudging the boat out through the debris, headed for the storm drain they were supposed to be meeting at.