All did go well so far. I managed to take Malcolm Sanders to the illegal bookie’s. While I did hang around at the bar with his Korean Bodyguard, looking cool and trying to hide my datajack. On the ride to the bookie’s I pfetended to be a bit clumsy with my commlink and didn’t have a story prepared why I have a jack but am not good with my ware.
I think I can steer clear of that glitch in case someone will notice it in the future, but I hate it when I make those kind of little mistakes. Of cause I’m nervous like a frog in a French pan, ya know, even though I have been faking false identities for years, and burning fake lives like a bunch of cats, I have been out of this kind of business for quite a while. Most of the time it was this kind of get-in-get-out-make-no-fuss jobs. Or spirit away some stuff from the pockets of someone. Which is something I’m very good at. Maybe you think that’s a bad thing to do, but for me that’s a kind of art and I’m proud of it and the way I can perform.
But the gift to manipulate people doesn’t come very easy to me. To be honest I had a little bit of attitude in my younger years, and don’t know if those “younger” years are exactly over yet. I don’t mean exactly “good” attitude, more “attitude” than any good, ya know? And now I have to pose as the responsible adult for Maggie, someone who she can respect and look up to. Which is not exactly one of my strong suits. It’s already hard enough for me to pose as a mother…
Well… I was hinting to Malcolm that the horse “Running Gag”, which is our insider’s tip, will be replaced on higher bets after it has won its first race. In these higher races it will run against much stronger opponents and the money for the bets will rise. And that will also be the moment when Leo “The Saw” will place his bet to scam off the rest of the pool. Of cause to get the million that will be placed on that bet, the wager has to be larger. It will be the moment when we scam Sanders with our “Big Store” setup.
His bodyguard doesn’t seem to like me very much, by the way. We have found out that he is some nasty bastard of a kickboxer. We better not try on him and find out how good he really is the hard way. I’m capable of fighting off the average street gang myself, but professionals are mostly quite out of my league. Anyway I don’t think we messed anything up so far.
I have seen a kickboxer once in a while. That’s pretty tough beating up, man. No fucking around with artistic moves and all that Kung-Fu-Style just getting close and dirty and break some bones until the other one can’t stand anymore and is lying a pool of his own blood. That’s brutal. I have heard the fellas break their shins on purpose to make them harder… That’s not my style, man, that’s totally not my style.
Well I was sitting with him at that bar, while Leo noticed me and gave me a look that was anything but friendly, like “what do you have to do here, bitch?” All going as planned. When we left I saw Maggie loitering around in the parking garage, which was not planned, but I think that was a brilliant idea. Posing there will make clear that she is tracing and observing someone. While our mark doesn’t know, it’s me. I appreciate this kind of improvisation. There is no art without improvisation. No plan works just from the paper, no music is just the written notes you can read.
It is a good thing that she’s doing this. I can teach her many things, but not this.
After cashing in those 2500 nY from the first bet, I refused to talk about the other bet – which will be on Friday, according to plan. But I dropped some remarks that I have nothing to do on Thursday. So he invited me to lunch.
Now the improvisation was on my part, I organized that the boys of the team put some furniture in a safe house I luckily had near and which I said is where I live at the moment. It’s a very shallow ID which will most likely be blow the moment someone is going through the flat, but for someone at the door it will look legit.
He took me out to the docks of Everett, where I found out he had a small yacht lying in the haven, the “Merle”. I was wearing a not too fancy blue costume, because I had no idea where he would take me. It was a very fine lunch, with a lot of small talk and conversation, I asked him if this was just a boat to park or if he was able to sail it too? It’s not a stupid question, you know, many rich folks just rent one of these boats for posing. It’s like a trailer park for the jet-set, ya know?
But he was indeed capable of sailing that thing. And while I had to keep from showing it, I can tell ya, that I was stunned by the experience. I had a boat of my own before I was forced to leave the city and went to Hong Kong. It was one of those nice hydrofoil boats, because I love it fast, wet and stormy. I’m not that kind of good-weather-sailing girl who drapes herself over a sun-chair on the bow. I’m more the one who is hanging in the harness and who is getting salt water in her face every time the boat dips into the waves. In those times my boyfriend said, I tasted salty when he kissed me. The taste was on my skin for days.
So, I had a very hard, hard time to keep cool about that. Even if that boat is not the kind of runner I’m used to fly, it was a good boat with sleek lines and a capable rig. I can’t tell you how I miss my own boat now that I was allowed to taste salt again.
Well you know what I did with my runner that time? It was more or less the only thing left after they fucked me at the stock market, where I was gambling away my money. They called me a terrorist and simply frozen and confiscated all my stock. That was quite a lot of money, I can tell ya! More than I ever could have stolen in my life. It was about 300 million Nuyen, but that’s of course all money I never really had. It was just numbers. A stock market blowup, where I got between the bubbles that the big sharks had farted. And from one day to an other I had nothing.
If you ask me, who the biggest scammer – I can tell you, it’s not me. It’s those people. And those who are the government. I’m just small time.
And now I’m scamming a guy who’s quite okay, if you ask me. He has taste, he’s a charmer without trying even remotely to get into my panties, he’s cool for a suit, loves sailing and that. I’m not too happy to ruin him. I know how it is to be ruined. Normally I just take from people who have things to spare. Like gems and other glitz. Or those who are so stinking rich that they won’t ever miss what I take. Or I ground some major corporations. That’s all cool.
To wreck the life of Malcolm Sanders – is not. But I’m professional, I have started to work with a bunch of people who, I know, work for the Irish Mob. So if I fuck this job up, just because I get a moral hiccup, they will not just send me fishing but Maggie too. That’s totally not cool, man.
But on the other hand – the one who’s ruining himself is Sanders. I told him not to. And he is really messing with the bad boy Leo “The Saw” and ignoring that this guy will possibly geek me if I start messing with his deals. Me, Lily Harriot, the horse-doctor.
He doesn’t care too much about me. So I gulp for now and keep my hiccup down. But I’m not feeling well. This is not my style. I don’t wreck lives. Eh – I try not to.