She's Got A Ticket to Ride (And She Don't Care)

[The Stranger]

"Frag my sister, I need cash." Daryl replied. He hung up.

" sir, you have another call, I'll connect you now. .

"Hello, Mr. Wheatfield," said a slightly accented male voice. "I understand you've had a difficult night. Fortunately we are in a position to assist you."

Sir Your account is showing a recent wire transfer of Five thousand Nuyen.

"Do I have your attention?"

[The Smith]

Sam stopped walking toward his office, and walked down the closest alley. He moved down it until he was out of sight from the road. "Of course. With whom am I speaking?" He paused for a minute then added, "I apologize if that is not the right situation for using 'whom', I tend to forget my grammer first in life or death situations."

[The Stranger]

"That's not an issue of key importance right now. What is important is that the young girl with you is currently in a great deal of danger." The voice said, "We would like to secure your services to insure that nothing ill befalls her for at least the next twenty-four hours. After that period passes, if you would transport the girl to corner of Franklin and Kramer streets, in A-Town, beneath the Monorail track where I will send someone to meet you, you will be justly rewarded, both karmicly and monetarily."

[The Smith]

Sam thought for just a moment, and said, "It is a deal, Mr Falcon. How will I know your agent when he comes to met me?" In his head he was doing hard math, and not liking any of the answers. Well at least he did not have to have Tabitha rubbing it in his face yet. He grimaced at that thought.

[The Stranger]

The man grinned, "You provide the answer to your own question. My emissary will identify themselves as Mr. Falcon. Don't worry, They'll know what you look like."

The line disconnected.

[The Smith]

Sam squatted down and looked at the girl. He sighed, and ran a hand threw his hair. His options were not great. There were few places he could bring her, and really that just left the Troll. He looked up, and wondered if he could make it to the bridge in time. "Tabby stealth mode please." Then he scooped the kid up into his arms, and walked through the alley heading toward his destination.

[The Stranger]

"Shutting down," Tabitha replied as they moved towards the bridge.

[The Smith]

Sam stopped in the shadows cast by the Dollhouse, and looked across the street at the dilapadated Todt Bridges Building. It used to home some small shipping company, but had really been a front for the Russians. A small bomb had gone off on the top floor, and now it just rotted from with.

While ruined, it was still secure, and should be full of squatters, but it had that look of a truly abandoned building. No one would dare Squat in the Troll's demises.

Sam stared at the stairs that lead into the Bridge's sub-basement. He was pretty sure the rumors about the Troll eating children had been started by the Troll himself to keep away kids. The Troll had been an enforcer once, the best in the city some said. Those days were behind him now, long gone. He had lost his mean, and with though his flow of nu-yen. Now all he had left was a bad temper, aging cyberware, and gene modifications that were starting to go soft.

Sam had never been close with the Troll, but he had been good friends with his Uncle. Sam was gambling that the Troll's loyalty still lingered. He crossed the street, turning his face from the one security camera hanging outside the strip club. He walked down the stairs, and banged his fist against the metal door that guarded the Troll's lair.