Guns for Hire - Script Twenty Six

Winnemucca County Hospital, Nevada 10.11am - 24/01/2016

As Alex negotiated the RV around the hospital Vrasten spotted Skinpin skulking outside the main lobby area with several carrier bags clutched to his chest, seeing the RV Skinpin made a bee line towards it. As Vrasten helped him on board it was fairly obvious that Skinpin really shouldn't be up & about, in fact he was still wearing the hospitals pajamas,

"Er Skinpin, did the Doc say you were OK to check out"

Sheepishly Skinpin admitted he had slipped away whilst the nurses were busy elsewhere as the institutionalised medicare was freaking him out, whilst Mariusz pointed out that the institution had made a pretty good job of stitching him back together Vrasten & Alex ensured that Skinpin's unofficial runner from the hospital was registered the hospital accounts department as well as recovering Vrasten's payment card. With Skinpin's hospital file in order & having signed that his discharge was against the hospitals recommendations they returned to the RV with a list of instructions & a bag full of antibiotics.

Highway 80, Sacramento, California 3.55pm - 24/01/2016

Apart from stopping for fuel & munchies Alex kept the RV moving at a steady pace & by late afternoon Sacramento was left well behind, as afternoon drew into evening the RV cruised along the interstate above the sprawl of Heywood & Oakland, on the overhead gantries warnings were being flashed out that travel into NC should be avoided until further notice due to ongoing civil unrest.

Night City 4.49pm - 24/01/2016

Cussing profoundly Alex, for the third time since entering the city, reversed the RV back round a corner as she sought a safe route through the burning vehicles, official & unofficial road blocks, roving rioters & general chaos was rife through the streets of down town NC,

"So tell me again" muttered Alex to no one in particular "cos I must of missed the point somewhere, why the fuck have we come back to this dump"

Eventually, with only the odd new scratch or scorch mark, Alex threaded the RV into the warehouse district, largely abandoned & holding little to draw the food rioters & anarchists away from the more upmarket areas of the city, driving was a little less eventful, turning a final corner however Alex brought the RV to a sudden halt before an impressive armada of vehicles strung across the street, atop & behind the barricade all in the RV could see occasional muzzle & at least one heavy calibre gun emplacement. Nervously Alex killed the engine & accompanied by T Bird & Vrasten stepped out of the relative safety of the RV's reinforced plasglass windshield.

All three, armed & armoured, slowly walked forward if not with hands held high at least palms open & on display, as they neared the blockade a voice from beyond suggested they stop pretty fucking soon & start talking, when neither Vrasten or T Bird said a word Alex stepped forward telling whoever was listening that they'd been out of town for a while & were trying to get to the Forlorn Hope. Whilst Alex passed the time of day Vrasten scanned those watching & ID'd a couple of freindly faces, grinning he waved jovially to those he was familiar with, with recognition communicated to whoever was running the show two vehicles were reversed to allow Alex to drive the RV through.

Beyond the barricade it was clear that the Forlorn Hope was well protected, all four streets off the cross road on which the Hope was sited had similarly been cordened off, the guy who initially quizzed Alex smiled,

"No, no real trouble so far, a couple of kids with Molotov's, we're well out of the way here as you know so we're not expecting problems but, well, the Prof, he likes to be careful, you know what these old soldiers are like, don't take no chances, so he has us parade around & throws in a few free beers for the trouble. if you're hanging around no doubt Icepick will volunteer you for a couple of hours service sometime"

With the RV parked out of the way Skinpin was helped inside where one of the house rippers, Pedra Van Buskirk, immediately confined him to quarters, protesting his well being Skinpin was ushered to the medical bay as the others sipped on a cool beer.

Forlorn Hope, Night City 6.59pm - 25/01/2016

By the evening of the following day Alex, Mariusz, T Bird & Vrasten had sat back & chilled out, all had, as suggested, 'volunteered' for a couple of hours watching the streets around the Hope but as expected nothing other than the occasional hurled brick had disturbed them. Watching the city's media reporting on events around the corporate zone it was clear that a plenty of old scores, as well as a few new ones, were being settled, terminally. In addition the gutter media was doing its best to hype up the anarchy, after all bad news was good news, it was also reported that the numerous gangs dotted around the city were taking the opportunity to contest the extent of respective turf, all in all it was a regular Wild West showdown.

As evening rolled on the new house band, Mudcrutch, played & beer a plenty was drunk.

Forlorn Hope, Night City 10.08am - 26/01/2016

Vrasten, stretching, stepped out of the RV intending to go in search of breakfast in the Hope guessing that somebody must be dishing up grub for those who'd left the bar sober enough to take a turn on watch. The others were still crashed out in the RV, it'd been a pretty early morning before they'd all crawled out in search of sleep, but Vrasten needed a pee so had decided he might as well surface & make a start on looking for a new contract.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the envelope stuck to the window next to the RV's passenger offside door, looking round he couldn't see anybody watching so, slightly warily, he plucked the envelope of the screen & ran his fingers over it, feeling nothing to suggest it was anything other than what it looked like he slit it open. Inside was a single leaf of folded paper, opening it up Vrasten was surprised if not confused, it simply read,

Above thescrawled smiley face was a simple message.

When the others finally surfaced, induced by the smell of frying bacon, Vrasten dropped the note in front of them,

"Stuck on the RV when I surfaced this morning, can't be Helen, she's halfway around the planet right about now,that only leaves H12"

"Well" replied Alex "there's sod all we can do about it if it the alien bitch queeen from hell"

"Is somebody going to tell me who the fuck H12 is" asked T Bird glancing around the table.

Forlorn Hope, Night City 11.16am - 26/01/2016

Icepick, the Forlorn Hope's head of security & ex navel intelligence officer, was happy, if a little curious, to let them scan through the previous night CCTV, as the image counter showed 5.03am a figure, female, good looking, maybe in her mid twenties, flicked across the screen, pinned something on the RV & then near dissapeared, whistling Icepick asked,

"Who the fuck was that, nobody can move that quick, even with dizzy boosters"

Forlorn Hope, Night City 2.39pm - 26/01/2016

Chewing the fat over a beer Vrasten confirmed what Skinpin had mentioned back in Spanish Fork, there was buckets of work nursemaiding smart arsed corporates on offer but for the most part the money was pretty lousey whilst the risks were high,

"I've thrown our name in as many pots as I can but to be honest Skinpin was the closet we had to a deal broker, but even so we've got noboddy pulling for us where the real money is, we've got by so far but we just don't have the contacts, I've pitched us where I can but . . "

Forlorn Hope, Night City 7.26pm - 26/01/2016

Staring into a half empty bottle it was only when Jörg Dresdner coughed that Vrasten realised that he was stood next to him at the bar, Vrasten blinked & ordered Dresdner a refill, Jörg thanked him & then, leaning forward outlined a contract he'd mentioned earlier that whilst not much of a cut above the nursemaiding jobs discussed earlier at least seemed to offer slightly better rewards, leading Dresdner back to the alcove occupied by Alex, Mariusz & T Bird Vrasten offered him a seat & out lined the deal,

"Simple job, I hadn't mentioned it to Vrasten earlier as, well to be honest I didn't think it'd be up your neck of the woods, it's paying $10K per head based on seven or eight guns, I count four of you, pity about Skinpin, I heard some fuckwit blew his car up or something, anyway lets say $70K for 24 hours work, interested yeah, OK, here's the deal. . . . . . . .

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