The other man was an elf. Looking at him, Kellan wondered briefly if all elves looked like fashion models fresh from an image shoot. He looked young, too, but then all elves did, even the ones born at the very start of the Awakening some fifty years ago. He was tall and slender, but Kellan could see that his T-shirt with its Celtic-knot design was stretched across a well-muscled chest. His hair was auburn and shoulder length, a popular style with elves. He wore it pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were vividly green. The elf's outfit didn't match the slick and understated style of the other man. Instead, he wore a heavy black leather biker jacket with chrome zippers and buckles, close-fitting T-shirt, torn blue jeans and black, knee-high leather boots. Kellan also noticed his studded black gloves were fingerless, and that he wore a sword in a scabbard across his back, with the hilt protruding above his right shoulder so he could draw it overhand. It still surprised her when she saw someone carrying a sword, though she knew that some dangers in the Sixth World were best handled with man-powered steel rather than modern weaponry.

"Mr. Johnson, I presume?" Lothan asked and the first man nodded, gesturing to the other chairs at the table. Lothan took the one directly opposite then-contact, and Kellan and G-Dogg sat to either side of the troll mage, putting Kellan closest to the elf, who glared across the table at all of them.

Lothan didn't offer introductions, nor did Mr. Johnson ask for any. That wasn't his real name, of course. Shadowrunners referred to their employers as "Mr. Johnson" (or "Ms. Johnson," as the case may be) because anonymity and discretion was of paramount importance to shadowrunners, and to those who hired them. Potential employers didn't want their real names known in case something went wrong. What the shadowrunners didn't know, they couldn't reveal to the authorities, nor could they use it to attempt blackmail. Shadowrunners used street names for much the same reason.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" Mr. Johnson said in a neutral, somewhat bored tone of voice.

"By all means," Lothan replied.

"Certain parties that I represent are interested in acquiring a particular shipment that is coming into the metroplex. I can provide information about the route the shipment will take into the plex. I need someone to acquire the shipment and deliver it to a location elsewhere in the metroplex that I will specify."

"And to whom does this shipment belong?" Lothan asked. Mr. Johnson shook his head slightly.

"I'm not prepared to discuss that until we have an agreement," he said. "The job pays forty thousand nuyen in certified credit upon completion and successful delivery of the goods."

"How soon does the run need to take place?" Lothan asked.

"Within the week."

"That's not much time," the troll mused aloud.

"Fifty thousand, with half up front and the remainder upon delivery."

"Forty-five, with five thousand in advance for expenses, and the other forty when you deliver."

Lothan paused for a moment. "Done."

"One other thing," Mr. Johnson said. "I want Orion here on the team," he tilted his head in the direction of the elf.

"I choose my own team," Lothan replied.

"It's part of the deal. Either take it or leave it," the Johnson said flatly.

"If we're taking him on, that's an additional expense," Lothan began.

"I don't want your fraggin' money," Orion growled from the other side of the table. Mr. Johnson placed his gloved hand on the table in front of the elf, silencing him.

"A separate arrangement has already been made," he told Lothan. "The payment for the job is for you and whomever you choose to hire. Orion doesn't need to be considered in your allocations." When Lothan studied the elf and then looked back at the Johnson, he continued. "That's the offer. Do we have a deal?"

"Make it eight thousand up front and, yes, we have a deal."

"Done," the Johnson replied. He reached slowly into a pocket on the sleeve of his sweater and removed a small palm computer. He tapped the screen a couple of times, then pulled a datastick out of the port and slid it across the table toward Lothan, lifting and withdrawing his gloved hand with deliberate slowness.

"That contains your advance and the information on the shipment time and route," he said. "The shipment belongs to Ares Macrotechnology and is coming into the metroplex by truck in a few days. It also specifies where and when you're to deliver the goods."

Lothan picked up the data stick and casually handed it to G-Dogg, who removed a similar pocket comp from his jacket and slotted the stick, glancing over the display and tapping the screen a couple of times. Then he looked up at Lothan and nodded.

"And if we need to contact you?" Lothan asked Mr. Johnson.

"Our only other contact will be at the prearranged meeting," he said. "You shouldn't need any contact with me beyond that. I trust you can handle this matter on your own."

"Of course," Lothan replied briskly. "Well, then, I believe our business is concluded."

The Johnson nodded and stood up from the table. "I'll be looking forward to our next meeting."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Lothan said. Then the dark-clad man departed, leaving the shadowrunners sitting at the table. The elf, Orion, stayed where he was as their new employer left, watching the others with a wary eye.

"You waiting for a tip, kid?" G-Dogg said to the elf.

"No," he said in a haughty tone. "I'm waiting to get started."

"Well, then, I suggest that you wait elsewhere," Lothan said. "We'll contact you when your services are needed."

"Your employer said that I'm supposed to be involved in this run," Orion said, placing one hand flat on the table and leaning forward for emphasis. Kellan tensed, waiting for the elf to jump to his feet.

"And you will be," Lothan replied, "but when and where I say. If you are going to be in on this, then the first thing you need to understand is that I call the shots. Now then, I assume that you have a means by which we can contact you?"

The troll and the elf locked eyes across the table and Orion was silent for a long moment. Kellan could see the tension in the line of his jaw and across his shoulders. Then the elf pulled the front of his jacket open with one hand and reached slowly into the front pocket with the other. Kellan could see that he was wearing a gun in a shoulder rig underneath, although his hand stayed well away from it. He pulled out a compact phone and G-Dogg responded by setting his pocket comp on the table. Orion tapped a code into the phone and beamed something to the pocket comp, which chirped.

"You have my number," he announced, pocketing the phone again. Then he rose from the table, turned on his heel, and swept out of the bar. Kellan noticed that G-Dogg turned to watch him go, but Lothan didn't, showing only his back to the elf's exit. A moment later they heard the roar of a motorcycle engine starting up and Kellan allowed herself to breathe again.

"That guy's gonna be trouble," G-Dogg said to no one in particular.

"I can deal with him," Lothan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It won't be a problem."

"I don't know," the ork replied. "Did you see the back of his jacket? The Ancients aren't people I want to tangle with."

"You're welcome to opt out if you want."

"Didn't say that. I just think that it could get messy if the Ancients are involved."

"Who are the Ancients?" Kellan asked, and the two turned toward her like they'd forgotten she was there. Kellan took note of the incredulous look on Lothan's face.

"They're a gang," G-Dogg said. "An elven gang, one of the biggest in the plex. The Ancients have chapters all over the UCAS, but there are a lot of them in Seattle because it's so close to Tir Tairngire. I would have said they were the toughest gang in the plex before the Spikes started moving in on their territory-now it's probably a toss-up. Not getting along with the Spikes is something you and our new chummer there have in common," he told Kellan with a grin.