2013 08 20

Tue Aug 20 2073

Denver: Aztlan Sector, The Burnsley Hotel.

The corp war heats up another degree. Things are getting sticky. Four shadowrunners show up for a simple job- subsidiary of a triple A allegedly. The runners gather round the table at the mid-scale restaurant Fuego Del Alma thats located inside the hotel. Mr. Johnson starts his pitch. Something buzzes in the air. A red dot. A rifle crack. Mr. Johnsons brains spider-web across neo-traditional Aztec cutlery and splatter onto a stucco wall. Sirens nearby wail. The runners bail and scramble for cover as they hustle out. One of the runners pockets Mr. Js lost credstick. Rookie mistake or a true opportunist? Stay frosty out there.

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