[Jack_Spade]

"Yeah, sure man. I'll tell you. Pier 47 is just down the harbor. It's abandoned - only trash and devil rats there and the occasional burnouts. There are a few boats there it's where we found our gear."

[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth narrowed his eyes at the captive, made a face, and spoke to the group. "Well no point in wasting any more time here. Let's have him go pick up his reward at pier 47."

[Volker]

"You don't expect the elf to show up in person, do you? If he is what I think he is, he already knows they messed up. If anything, we set our own trap if we follow them."

[SquirrelDude]

Slob shook his head. No, I don't think he'll show up. I just don't want to be the person to grab whatever is in store for a couple of mercenaries who failed a clandestine organization.

[Sabato Kuroi]

It's your call, Slobber.This man's life is in your hands.What about that one-eyed elf though? If he's just a decker who's unwilling to get his hands dirty, why was he near the crime scene back then? Did your family's house have top-notch security?

[SquirrelDude]

"I don't remember the security measures, and I was too young to know what good security was to be honest. Things might have still be wired-only. He gave an apologetic shrug at Torrent for his own ignorance.

"I say we have our mercenary go see if there is anything left for us at the dock. He inspects anything that is there, and then gets to move on his way. We already knew about the elf. He's only given us a place to ask around, Rotgut, and that's probably a dead end. That's hardly enough to risk leaving a loose end."

[Volker]

"Maybe Torrent should ask around in Rotgut before we let the mercenary go."

[SquirrelDude]

"Sounds reasonable. Torrent shouldn't go alone, though. Looks like we're loading up our new friend for a family road trip.

Slobbertooth turned and spoke to the prisoner for the first time. "That bar. Rotgut, you said it was? You don't happen to have an address for it, do you?"

[Jack_Spade]

"Sure, it's on the exit ramp to the highway next to the airport. Biker bar with a bit of table dance on Fridays."
The man seemed to have regained some hope to come out of this alive, so eager where his answers.

[Volker]

"Hop in boys, the engine's already started", says bnc and makes herself comfortable in the driver's seat.

[Jack_Spade]

The drive to the bar was smooth i.e. there were no incidents beyond Seattle traffic being Seattle traffic.

The bar shared its building with an old gas station, delivering expensive fuel to a lot of road hogs of which 12 filled the parking space in front of the building.
A very retro AR Display of a flashing neon sign, depicting a very buxom waitress declared the place to be called "Rotary Guesthouse".

The outsides promised a very seedy insides with lots of smoke, billiard and very cheap booze.

[Volker]

"I'll keep watch from the outside"

Anything interesting in the Matrix? Standard protocol: hidden icons, overall check; I enter a/the host if must be.

[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth slightly adjusted his appearance before walking into the bar. He removed his helmet to show off his messy black hair, and made his Ruger Super Warhawk more visible than it normally was. He stifled a chuckle when he looked over at Krestov in his suit.

"I can't wait to see their reaction when they get a look at you.

[Jack_Spade]

The matrix showed a few hundred icons within 100m. Narrowing it down to commlinks revealed 20 individual links. There was no host connected to the bar. A bit of fiddling with the search parameters gave bnc confidence that no more than 18 individuals where inside.
No hidden icons as far as she could see, but at least five hand guns with two Ruger Super Warhawks, but no Russian made super silent killer guns.

Slobbertooth was greeted by the unmistakable odor of machine grease and unwashed bodies mixed with the sharp scent of copious amounts of half-metabolized alcohol.
The main room was remarkably empty - he counted only 10 people plus the bored looking barman behind a surprisingly well-stocked bar. One billiard table was in use with what looked like a pair of professional pool-sharks honing their skills in friendly rivalry. A closed backroom indicated a members-only part of the local.

Somewhere a cheap music system tried miserably to convey an old country song to a disinterested crowd.

The barman looked up when Slobber entered and gave him a quick once over before asking: "What can I get you?"

[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth sat at the bar, wrasped his fingers on the counter, and then made his request.

"I'll have a glass of Hurlg, and any information you have an elf with an eye patch who hired a regular of this bar named Tony."