Have A Seat
Peeking over the edge Chuck looked down on two Red Hands banging on the doctor’s door. The larger Red Hand cocked his augmented fist, punching a large hole in the door. Both of them laughed at the hole, Chuck shuddered. Laughing the entire time the Red Hands punched several more holes in the door before tossing the door to the side. The Red Hands walked into the office where Chuck could not hear their conversation. Based on how fast they left and ran down the alleyway his guess was problem. Chuck sent a vid of the Red Hands to Whiskers.
[We have a problem.] He texted.
[Apparently. Follow them.]
Chuck dropped into the alley, making his way to his car. The Red Hands bikes roared down the road racing past Chuck as he reached his car. Following them was easier than he expected, they rode in a straight line to a bar. Chuck circled the block, parking on a side street, cuing the vid-feed on his windshield he called Whiskers.
“They stopped at a biker bar. I’m not dressed to go in.”
“Understand,” Whiskers replied, distractedly. “Puddles should be to you in a few minutes. Together you can…”
“Sorry I found more information that may assist us in finding the doctor.”
“As I was saying, hopefully Twist is at the bar. Puddles should be able to blend in.”
Chuck watched a large cluster of wageslaves from a nearby factory walk by.
“I have an idea. I will contact you later,” he said in a rush, disconnecting the feed and exiting his car.
The wageslaves oblivious of Chuck walking closely behind them, chatted away about work, bosses, wages, and their desperate need to get some beer and food into them before returning to work. As Chuck hoped, they walked to the bar and entered without hesitation. While the wageslaves pulled several tables together, Chuck found himself a table with a good view of the entire bar. Pulling the holo-menu up, Chuck looked busy while looking for the two Red Hands. The wageslaves creating the best distraction possible with their numbers, obtuseness, and massive order.
[Where are you.] Puddles texted.
[I have a table in the bar. Want me to order you something.]
[There in a sec. Starving.]
Not finding noodles, Chuck input an order for drinks and wings. Between the large wageslaves, he followed in and several other businesses, the bar was packed full. A knot of Red Hands sat glowering at everyone in a darkened corner of the bar. Unfortunately, from Chuck’s position he could not tell if the two he was following were among them.
A battered serv-o droid with red hands, slammed drinks in front of Chuck, splashing him. A platter of wings nearly flew across the table as the droid seemed to try to skip the platter onto the table. Before Chuck could ask for anything the droid rolled away on one wheel, slamming drinks onto tables along the way.
“What is that things problem?” Puddles asked as she sat down.
“I’d be the same way if I worked here,” Chuck responded as he wiped beer off him and the table.
“True. Where are they?”
“I think over there,” Chuck indicated with a nod and ear point.
“Its the only thing that looked safe.”
“They should fry these things enough to kill anything harmful.”
“Makes sense. Let’s eat and watch. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”