Shadow of the Waxwing Slain, Ch. 9
Shadow of the Waxwing Slain, Ch. 9
Following Leads
My playing and writing will always be available for free, but being a teacher isn’t the most profitable career in the US, so if you enjoy what I write and would be willing, please pledge as it shows that what I’m doing provides value to others that they would be willing to pay for. If you’d like to support my newsletter in other ways, please subscribe, share and comment. You’d be surprised how thrilling it is to get new subscribers, views and comments on a post.
Chapter 9: Following leads
Shift 2: Afternoon
Fletcher made a call.
Fletcher asks his Underground contact to help him connect with Holbrook.
Connections: d10 + d8 = 6,3 → One Success
“Wyatt, I need some info and you owe me one. I’ll see you at the usual spot.”
Location: Sector 4 “Industrial District” → Chinatown → Karma
Fletcher made his way through Piss Alley, a labyrinth of tiny alleys packed with people pushing for stools at the smallest of restaurants, pubs and street food vendors. It was dimly lit, loud and warm from all the bodies. It was a popular area to meet with informants.
At the end of the alley was Karma, with the neon slogan above the entrance reading “What comes around, goes around.” A big black man stood at the front, arms crossed, talking to those who came in.
“No business here, Echo,” the man said, as Fletcher walked up.
“You know I know that, Boomer,” Fletcher said, raising his arms and allowing himself to be patted down. “Didn’t even bring my blaster.”
Boomer smirked, finishing the pat down. “And you know I got to say it every time, Eddie. Go on in.”
“Thanks,” Fletcher said and walked in.
There was a stage for karaoke at the back, on which a semi-drunk woman belted out a sad-sounding song. On either side were conveyor belts that formed a circle, conveying plates of sushi into and out of the restaurant, with tables lined up to the belts. In the center of the place was a circular bar.
The place wasn’t busy, unsurprisingly considering it was just the afternoon.
Fletcher went to the bar and ordered a whiskey. He pointedly ignored the other patrons. This wasn’t a place to be poking around. This was a place of neutrality, for cops and crooks alike.
When his drink was ready, he paid for it, took the glass and a pair of chopsticks and sat at a two-person table next to the sushi. He sipped his drink and grabbed a plate, a spicy tuna roll, or whatever constituted a flavor that resembled that. Fresh fish was a luxury you would not find at a sushi bar like this.
Fletcher ate it and found it good enough. Karma had a decent reputation.
Across the table, a man sat, brown hair, bearded, with dark eyes. He wore a suit.
“Hello Wyatt,” Fletcher said. “Care for some sushi? A drink, maybe?”
“What do you want, Echo?” Wyatt asked. He had a glass of water which he sipped from.
Fletcher paused, grabbing another plate of sushi, a shrimp tempura roll. “I need to talk to one of your friends and I’d prefer not to spook him.”
A pause. “You taking him in?”
“Not necessarily. Truth is, he has information about something more important.”
“What’s that?”
“The bombing at the courthouse. You know who did that?” Fletcher asked, looking Wyatt in the eyes.
Wyatt looked down. “We have some idea.”
“The Iron Court,” Fletcher said, still staring.
Wyatt looked up, surprised. “How do you kno-”
“It’s my job, Wyatt. We got Eve Ricci, one of their members. We got Rhodes, their mercenary, and we stopped them from going through with an even bigger incident. But now we need the rest of them. We need to take them down.”
Wyatt took a drink, not saying anything, looking down at the table.
Fletcher took bites between sentences, stabbing his chopsticks in Wyatt’s direction. “I expect you all in the Underground do not agree with the Court’s methods, it’s why they separated from you. They could bring down a whole heap of trouble on you if they continue. Replicant terrorist attacks? That could bring an army to this city. Nobody wants that.”
Wyatt stared at Fletcher. “I’m listening.”
“Holbrook Hyden. Security guard at Walton Gardens. Our information shows he was a part of the Court but disagreed with their methods and left, still a part of the Underground, far as we know. I need to talk to him and find out who the other members are.”
“Just talk?”
Fletcher nodded. “Yes.”
“And your new partner, she’ll be fine with ‘just talking’?”
It was Fletcher’s turn to be caught off guard. “You know about her?”
Wyatt nodded. “We heard. A new model.”
Fletcher shrugged, grabbing another plate of sushi, not even seeing what it was. “She’s…green. A rookie. Doesn’t quite get what the job is, not totally. But she’s learning.”
“You came alone because she’d want to take me in. Retire me.”
Fletcher sipped at his drink and shook his head. “She’s following another lead, that’s all.” He looked at Wyatt. “She saved my life.”
Wyatt shrugged. “And she’d kill me in an instant. Those new models…They’re slaves. They obey, that’s all they can do. You talk to Holbrook alone, understand? Otherwise, no deal.”
Fletcher nodded. “Understood.”
Wyatt stood. “I’ll send you the details.”
Fletcher took his time, finishing his sushi. He went back to the bar and got one more drink, checking his KIA. He had a message from Holden, calling him back to the office. Fletcher sighed, finished his drink, paid and left.
Location: LAPD-RDU → Holden’s Office
“Were you meeting with a member of the Underground?” Holden asked, face contorted with anger, stabbing the cigar in his hand in Fletcher’s direction.
Fletcher raised his hands. “I was meeting with a CI, that’s all.”
Holden grunted. “It was reported that you were meeting with a member of the Underground.”
Fletcher let out a sigh of exasperation. “What if I was?”
“Then you would be talking to a replicant whose very existence is illegal!” Holden growled, shaking his head.
“Who reported it?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Holden said.
“Matters to me,” Fletcher said, putting his hands on the desk. “Chief, you know the job. You know I do good work. You know how I solve cases. Sometimes, this is the job.”
“Listen,” Holden leaned back, his tone softening. “I gotta be seen tearing you up because it was officially reported, alright? Now, get outta here.”
Fletcher stood, going to the door.
“And Eddie?” Holden said, pointing at him. “One last thing. Be careful who you trust.”
Dee called Fletcher over her KIA from her Spinner. “Fletcher, I found a recording on Rhodes’ old KIA at the farm. A member of the Iron Court was on it, talking to him. He had info on her, name, address and where to find her.”
“Sounds like a lead you should follow up on.”
Fletcher sounded…odd. Annoyed? Irritated? Frustrated? She decided not to mention the picture of Rhodes and the child, which she’d taken out of the frame and pocketed. She wasn’t sure why. “You meet with your contact?”
“Yes.”
Dee waited but Fletcher didn’t go on. “And?”
“I’ve got my own lead to follow up on.”
“Are you going to make me guess?” She heard Fletcher sigh.
“Let’s just say I don’t want to put you in a difficult position, so I’ll see you back at HQ in a few hours, alright?"
The line cut out as Fletcher ended the call.
“Fuck,” Dee said out loud. “He knows.”
“It had to be done, Dee,” Rem said. “You have to follow the rules. What do you think he got, a verbal warning? Guess what? You slip and you’re not getting a warning, you’re getting retired. Wallace can’t have a replicant that doesn’t obey.”
“Yeah, well,” Dee replied, lifting off. “I can still be pissed off about it.”
“Right now, right here, with nobody else around? Yes, you can.”
Shift 3: Evening
Location: Sector 1 “Entertainment District” → Red Light District
(BR:RPG + AR Instacitizen) NPC: Quala Ayers, Pimp
Dee down the street, past neon red lights showcasing gambling dens, casinos, strip clubs and worse. Anything and everything illegal you could want to do could be found down here. Dee pulled the collar of her black leather coat up. It was cold, she could see her breath, but she didn’t really feel it. She just didn’t like it down here.
She found the place, Happy Jack’s Casino, and walked in. She looked around, seeing the usual, gamblers at tables and slot machines, waitresses walking around handing out drinks, as well as a few men and women who, like Dee, seemed to be evaluating the patrons. She saw a woman sidle up to a man playing the slots, rub his shoulders, whisper into his ear. Ayer’s escorts worked the place.
Dee sat at a slot machine and started playing. She caught the eye of one of the escorts and smiled at her, before turning back to the game.
The woman, long, straight blond hair and green eyes, sidled over, nonchalantly. “Lookin’ for love, honey?” She asked, placing a hand over Dee’s as it sat on the pull lever and helping her pull it down.
Thunk, thunk, thunk, the whirling spinners slowed and stopped, showing Dee hadn’t won anything.
“I’m looking for your boss, Quela Ayers.” Dee said. “I need to speak to her.”
The woman made to leave but Dee grabbed her wrist, holding her.
“It’s important. I need to talk to her. She’s going to want to listen to what I have to say.” Dee put all the emotion she could into her voice. “Please, I’m in trouble and I think she can help.”
Manipulation: 2d8 = 2,6 → One Success
The woman bit her lip, looking at Dee’s face for a moment. “I’ll get a message to her and maybe she’ll talk to you. No promises.”
“Thank you,” Dee said.
“Dee, what are you playing at, here?” Rem asked, as the woman walked away.
“I’ve got an idea, Rem,” Dee replied, in her head as she went back to the slot machine and pulled the lever again. “Let’s see where it leads.”
Upkeep
Dee gets 3 Promotion Points, (1 from reporting her partner), and Fletcher gets 1. Dee gets 2 Humanity Points and Fletcher gets 1.
Chapter 9 log
The partnership becomes strained. The mystery deepens. What does Dee have up her sleeve? I used Augmented Reality for the generated NPC’s job because Blade Runner’s can be a bit limited. Not much use of generators or oracles this chapter, as I just kind of let the narrative flow. I think about NPCs, who they are and what their attitude might be, their history, and then I write the dialogue that way and if it sounds right to me, I just keep going instead of trying to randomly generate what an NPC might say. Sometimes, you can just keep writing, following your intuition as a storyteller, which I think we all have the capacity to be.
Thanks for reading!
Looking forward to the next issue!