Shadowrun: Telegram

Rat Hunting

In the fortnight after their smuggler's group was taken down, Bofrin and Jannick spend most of their time hunting down the person who ratted them out. Their clues lead to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Dresden.

“Ready?” Jannick said, his bloodshot eyes flicking from the large warehouse door to me. His usually cheery face was now a mask void of emotion. I looked down at my cheap knockoff watch; 2:31 am on the 14th of April. Have we really been chasing this bastard for two weeks already?

“Not really, but let’s do this.” We pulled the door open with a creak that echoed across the entire courtyard behind us. The inside was unlit.

“Dolphus Özil, we know you’re here!” Jannick’s voice called into the darkness before us. Only silence responded. Jannick shrugged, “Alright then, hard way it is.” He stepped forwards, drawing his gun. I followed.

Before us stood 4 rows of half empty warehouse racks, labelled A to D. I motioned silently for Jannick to take row D. He nodded, and quickly prowled off to the right. It always surprised me how good he was at doing that. I took row A. My footsteps, while subdued, still reverberated off the cold concrete floor. I couldn’t hear Jannick or anything else in the warehouse. Now I could feel cold sweat trickling down my neck, and my heartbeat was elating to ever more uncomfortable levels with each step I took.

By now I was halfway through the row, and so was Jannick, I hoped. I started as I heard a rush of footsteps rush from somewhere from the back of the warehouse. By my guess it came from the row to the right of me. A sudden deafening crack and the flash of a gun muzzle came from the next row, causing me to dive to the floor. My ears rang as I aimed my gun at where the muzzle flash came from. Pulling the trigger frantically, I unloaded the magazine into where I saw the flash. On the last bullet there was a yelp of pain and then a thump as the target hit the floor.

Ears ringing louder than ever, I picked myself off the dusty floor, and slowly moved under the large metal racks to the next row. Dolphus Özil was there, clutching his shoulder in anguish. As his eyes met mine, they widened. I looked at the blood slowly soaking into his white button up shirt and felt a pang of nausea rise in my stomach.

“Finally got you,” Jannick silently stepped from behind me, pointing his gun at Özil.

“Fuck you!” The raw, pained emotion of Özil’s voice spat out. He scrambled backwards on the floor uselessly. We followed.

“Sorry, Özil, but we’re not going just let you walk away scot free after ratting us all out.” As I spoke, my nausea was replaced with an eruption of anger that had built up inside of me for the last fortnight. “Muller, Ruger and Gottleib are dead, Özil. I saw Dovoski got taken away. Galleo and Murphy are probably running for their lives if they’re not already dead or captured. You did this to them.” He winced as Dovoski’s name was mentioned, probably not happy about hearing his former boss was still alive.

“They did this to themselves! The entire group was a shambles!” by now Özil’s shirt was now completely drenched in his blood. “You would’ve crumbled even without the police raid.”

“So that’s an excuse to rat us all out?” Jannick’s voice was dangerously low now, he stepped forwards. “You sold us all to the police on some self-deluded prophecy that might not have even happened?” He shook his head, gripping his gun so hard it made his knuckles paper white. “You’re just a coward.”

Özil burst out laughing, “Coward? You say that while standing next to him.” He jerked his head to me. “He can’t even hit somebody without halfway passing out like a child! I’m surprised he even shot back. He’s worthle-” Jannick shot him in the stomach, causing him to interrupt his own monologue in a grunt of pain.

“We’ll just leave him. It doesn’t even matter if he survives. The police don’t know he’s here, he’ll just bleed out.” Jannick looked back at me.

I shrugged. “Do what you like. You’re the professional killer here.”

We turned and left him there, moaning in pain. As we exited the warehouse, I closed the door and relished the cool night air that embraced me. “What do we do now? We’ve got nothing to go back to.”

“I guess we’ll have to go somewhere else for now.” Jannick fished a cigarette from inside his jacket and lit it, “I have a… couple of friends in Berlin to catch up with, if you’d like to come along?” Taking a long puff, he leaned against the warehouse door and gazed at me.

“Those fences? Thought you said that was below your status.” I said, letting a smirk loose.

“Well that was before our livelihood was ruined by Mr. Özil back there. An elf has to be adaptable, you know.” He wagged his cigar at me, chuckling slightly. “So, will you be joining me or no?”

I shrugged, “I guess. But I’m not sitting around all day selling stolen trinkets to grannies. Not as sociable as you are.” I took my cyberlink out of my pocket and waved it at him. “I’ll see what I can find with my tech skills. Probably find a decent group to run with.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less, my friend.” He looked at his watch. “Will you have the honour of driving then? I feel like I could fall asleep any moment now.” He took his car keys from his trouser pockets and tossed them at me.

“Sure thing.” I fumbled, trying to catch them while simultaneously keeping my cyberlink in hand. “To Berlin.”

“To Berlin.”


“I’ll see what I can find with my tech skills. Probably find a decent group to run with.”

And then his life was ruined forever.

When Bofrin Met Shulk.

Rat Hunting

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