Never trust an elf

Kham could tell from the frown on Zasshu Chen's face that the dwarf wasn't happy to see them; he didn't need all the yelling and foot-stomping. It wasn't hard to understand Zasshu's ire, because the truck the runners had abandoned in the Andalusian facility was the dwarfs and it might be traced back to him. Even offering to replace Zasshu's lost truck with the one they had hijacked didn't make the dwarf any happier. He claimed that the bullet scars would make the truck too easy to spot, and the tech on board made it too hot. Once Zasshu had spent his fury and calmed down a bit, Kham persuaded him to accept promises of recompense once the runners realized a profit from their haul. Fortunately, Zasshu wasn't nosy enough that Kham had to explain what they had in the truck. The dwarf must have figured that dumping the truck's own tech on the black market would turn enough to cover his expenses.

But Zasshu wanted to minimize his own exposure, and Kham couldn't argue with that. The dwarf wanted them gone, and soon. It took some fast talking to get him to give the truck a quick spray of paint to hide the Andalusian markings, but in the end even the cautious dwarf had to agree that unless they had at least a little bit of camouflage, they probably wouldn't survive to pay him.

While Zasshu was taking care of the truck, Kham took the opportunity to use the dwarf's telecom. He punched in the code for the flop in the Underground. Lissa answered.

"Hoi."

"Hoi, Lissa."

"Kham?" Her voice quivered a little, as it always did when she realized that he'd survived another run.

"Yeah, babe. We done it."

"Are you coming home now?"

"Got some biz ta take care of first. Be home soon, babe, and when I get back we're gonna do some serious celebrating. Dis run's gonna set us up fer life."

"But you're not coming home now?"

"I told ya. I got some biz ta take care of."

"You're just going to get yourself killed."

Maybe, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "Ain't gonna be a problem."

"Like it wasn't amp; problem for John Parker last time. Like your problems didn't come home with you. Kham, how can you keep doing this to us? To the kids? What are you thinking of? You're a father. You've got responsibilities."

"I know dat. I'm doing dis one fer ya and da kids."

"Don't blame your idiocy on us," she shouted, and then was off on one of her tirades.

He listened. What else could he do? She needed to vent her steam. He knew that Lissa was motivated by fear, that she dreaded the thought of her and the kids being left without his protection. He understood that. Once, he had thought she worried about him getting hurt, but he wasn't so sure anymore. A few years ago, things had been different. Or had they? Maybe he'd just been younger and stupider then. Whatever the truth of the matter, all of Lissa's concerns were valid, even if her words stung him.

When she ran out of steam, he said, "I'll be careful."

"You always say that, but somebody always comes back dead."

"Dat's not true."

"It's true too often."

Before she could start up again, he said, "Gotta go," and hit the button to sign off. That small lie ended the conversation, but it didn't solve anything. Lissa would still be there when this was all over, and he'd have to face her. She wouldn't be happy that he'd hung up on her.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts back to biz before he punched in Sally Tsung's number. The calm, pleasant voice on the other end told him that Sally wasn't in and asked if he wanted to leave a message. Nothing new there. Kham wasn't sure what sort of message to leave. He wanted Sally to look at the crystal and tell him all about it, but he didn't want to trust anything to the phone. So he just said that he had a proposal for biz and that Sally should meet him tomorrow just after sunset, at the usual place just off High Bridge Road. He figured she wouldn't balk at that choice for a meet; it was Ghost's territory and she'd feel safe there to meet with an ork she probably still thought was dead.

Out on the floor of Zasshu's place, they were stripping off the tape that had protected the truck's glass from the paint. It was time to go. Kham rousted the crew.

"Where's Chigger?"

"Buzzed," Rabo told him.

Kham digested that. The decker didn't know much about what was going on, unless he'd learned something in the Andalusian system that he hadn't passed on. But Rabo didn't seem concerned, and Chigger was his chummer. Kham decided to let it ride. Too bad Scatter hadn't gone with the decker; the shaman was back inside the truck, running avaricious fingers over the surface of the crystal.

"Surprised ya didn't buzz wit Chigger. Waiting fer a ride back to da Underground?''

The shaman looked at him with eyes that gleamed from beneath her brows. "Yes, yes. The Underground is the place for this."