The meeting with James Gunn went far smoother than Grakar expected. He’d even agreed to an increase in pay after a little posturing. The job was a simple one. Find a mob member called “Junior” in the Irish Mob (the Finegans) He’d given them 5 possible locations, and the guidelines that he was not to be killed, and if at all possible to gather evidence against him too.
‘This shouldn’t be too hard’ Grakar thought… All we need ot do is search the entire city with no idea what Junior looks like.
Stronghold and Medic were both staring at Grakar… They were both giving him ‘the look’. He’d obviously done something dumb again. He could recover this.
“First, can you check whether Mister Gunn is, in fact, a member of Lone Star? Then… Well, then I guess its time for some footwork!”
Half an hour later, Grakar watched a stream of pictures, showing James Gunn at a series of murder scenes, accompanying other officers, and leaving them in no doubt as to his authenticity. It also showed a smear campaign of cries of Police brutality, but that didn’t bother Grakar in the slightest. After all, where’d he be without a little violence.
Looking through the list of locations, the first obvious port of call was “Murphy’s law”. He shoved a couple of Rat Burgers in his pockets, stowed his Assault Rifle, and jumped on his bike. Stronghold followed in his car, bringing Medic.
As they approached Murphy’s, a familiar flickering blue light bounced from the surrounding buildings. Several squad cars, and Doc Wagons lined the road outside the bar, and foot traffic into, and from the bar seemed limited to Police and Paramedics. Unless, of course, you were being carried on a stretcher. A lot of people were being carried out, and the front of the club seemed riddled with bullets.
In his head, Grakar could already hear the voiceover of the Noir detective vid. He really should stay away from Crime scenes.
“It was a dirty town, but hell, its my dirty town. Someone had put out a hit on my boy, yet wouldn’t you know it, the cops got there before me.”
He shook his head, clearing the bad voice over from his brain, and looked around. Just on the outside of the barrier, he spotted exactly what he was looking for. An officer of the law, slightly on the heavy side, pastry crumbs on the front of his uniform, looking bored as hell. Grakar armed himself with two rat burgers, drawing them smoothly from his pocket holsters. unwrapping one, he strolled towards the officer. Getting close, he grinned, bearing his dwarven tusks. “Evening!” He held up his spare burger, “you hungry?”
The officer looked hesitant, but eventually hunger overcame mistrust, and he bit into the burger. He let out a deep sigh, and took a second bite. Grakar nodded at the crime scene, and shrugged.
“Whut happened here? Gang stuff?”
The cop chewed for a mo, quickly swallowing. “Yeah, Italian mob shows up, wastes some irish mob guys. Opens up fully automatic. Takes out anyone that moves. Irish guys fire back. You’re lucky you weren’t here half an hour ago, they’d be carrying you out like that…” He gestered over to where the Doc Wagons were being filled with body bags. “Cheers for the burger, I’ve gotta get back to work.”
“No worries. you’ll not get a burger like it! Grakars food truck is the best!” Grakar chuckled. Deka was always telling him they should get some marketting. Can’t beat word of mouth.
Medic and Stronghold stood a little distance back. Medic was trying to get a glance at some of the corpses, but the police line had been placed far enough back, that he couldn’t quite make out any detail. They retreated back to the car, and Stronghold dropped into VR. A few minutes later, and Grakar was siting looking at some decent blackmail material, and some pictures that could possibly be Junior.
With not much to go on, other than that, Medic suggested they hit the second location. It was a little classier, so Grakar grabbed a tie, and brushed at the grease stains on his shirt. They hopped into Strongholds car, and headed on over.
Pulling up at the club, they hung back a little, to watch the typical clientele, and watch for potential trouble. Each guest was scanned on entering, and turned away if armed. Wanting to see how much he could get away with, Grakar stuck with his side arm, and approached the entrance. The bounce scanned him, checked the scanner, and shook his head. “Sorry chummer, you’re going to need to leave that behind before you can come in. Grakar grinned, and tossed his gun to Stronghold. He looped his arm around Medics shoulders, and strolled inside the club.
Inside the club, Grakar felt a little out of his depth. Waitresses strolled the floor, with tall glasses filled with various colour liquids. Singles mingled, chatting and dancing, and retreating to upstairs booths if they wanted more privacy. Scanning the crowd, Grakar couldn’t see any of the faces from the still images at the ‘Murphys law’. Seeing Stronghold enter, he guided him up to a booth on the second floor. Flagged down a waitress, and asked “Er, can yu get me wun of dem drinks wiv an umbrella and cherry in? fanks.” The waitress looked over at Stronghold, who seemed zoned out. “Oh, and one for him too!” She nodded, and headed to the bar.
They dropped into one of the booths, and Stronghold dropped into VR again. Looking around, Grakar saw a group sat at another booth. They were being loud, and after a minute of listening, it was obvious they were part of the Finegan gang. Grakar didn’t think he could swing an invite, so he sent a quick ping to Makro, asking for a hand. A few minutes later, Makro showed. He’d been running a story just around the corner, and was scraping for other leads. He headed over to talk to the Finegans. After a few minutes, they seemed to accept him, and he sat getting drunk with them for a while. Medic pinged that some heavy hitters were inbound, so Grakar poked Stronghold, and pinged Makro that it was time to go. They separated off, and met up outside. Stronghold had grabbed a huge chunk of data that needed processing, and Makro had found out that Junior was an Ork. That fitted nicely with one of the repeat visitors for both clubs.
Armed with that, Grakar wanted to check out the two residential buildings that James Gunn had given them. Medic offered to check one out discreetly. He said he’d explore it astrally. Stronghold drove them to the second apartment block. On arriving, it was obvious the place was no longer under Finegan management. A gang of Trolls had taken over the place, and were pushing various products from the location.
Medic pinged in, and confirmed that the other residential location was a wreck. There’d obviously been foul deeds carried out there, and there was a hidden door to the Troll underground, but other than that, there was no gang presence.
Last place on the list of haunts, a small shop. They met with Medic, and the three of them checked out the shop from. An old lady and her son sold various household goods from a small shop front. As they approached, the old lady looked them over, and nodded to the back of the shop, obviously making an incorrect assumption, but it meant Grakar wouldn’t have to force his way in.
The doorway opened up into a hall. Doorways to either side were covered with hanging curtains, and inside each room, a human sat blankly staring at the wall. Grakar had heard about these living dolls before. Surgically altered to allow personalities and behaviour to be downloaded in. From the door at the end of the corridor, the sound of a drill and saw sounded. The door was solid, and locked by a keypad. Stronghold looped the camera watching the door, so it’d not give their presence away, and Grakar kicked open the door.
Inside, three started people looked up. Two were prepped for carrying out surgery. The third started to reach for his gun. Grakar drew first, and waved his assault rifle around. “Everyone on the floor, and no one gets hurt!” They all dropped to the ground. This confused him. Normally they returned fire.
Grakar kicked the gun away from the guard, and started to tie up his hands. Stronghold started to pour through the Surgeons computer, whilst Medic ridiculed her work. Looking over, Grakar could see bare spine. The occasional spurt of blood gave away that this was a live patient. Medic motioned to the surgeon to continue her work, and watched while she finished up her procedure. Once done, he bound her hands also, and sat back to allow the others to ask her questions.
After some badgering, The surgeon was forthcoming with a huge amount of information. She had a partnership with Junior, who’d provide her with “willing volunteers” and in return, she’d do custom work for him. She’d provided him with an incredibly in depth background for one of his customers. It stank of blackmail, but she didn’t seem the slightest bit worried by this.
They nabbed her phone, and set up a meet with Junior, under the guise of there being a problem with the latest batch. Grakar stunned them with his shock hand, and after exchanging a look with Medic, slit each of their throats cleanly. They bundled them into lockers, and Stronghold set up a program to revert each of the dolls to their dormant identities.
Now it was time to meet with Junior. One ‘all expenses paid’ trip to the holiday destination that is the ‘Orc Underground’.
Grakar had a thought… “Hang on, gotta disguise myself as an orc…”
Ten minutes later, they stood, watching three orcs looking for the surgeon. Stronghold suggested they drop a trace on them. Walking at them from different directions, Grakar spotted the three carefully watching Strongholds approach. He was going to get spotted for sure. Walking alongside him, Grakar gave him a look of Disgust. “This ain’t your place” he spat, and shoved Stronghold into the other orcs. Then he carried on his way.
Stronghold successfully dropped the bug.
Now all they needed to do, was follow it.