Burying the Lead

Flesher, distracted by memories flooding in about that media bitch. She is trying to sort out if the memories are direct or some bootleg BDs of hers. It was hot whatever it was. She shakes it from her head and responds,
"Are we though? The right ‘donation’ will make this go away. ‘Sides, I may have been there, but I’m innocent. Right, lads?!"
She winks sarcastically at the crew.

"Fuck’em. I kill anyone who tries to start shit. No upsetty, wetty spaghetti."

Sergei thinks about the situation a little more and goes more concerned as the seconds pass.

"Still may be best to lay low for a while. May want to leave Night City, we should?"

"I'm thinking we need some answers from your fixer. Guy walked out of that room same as you two, face uncovered for all to see. Why isn't his picture up on that screen? Also, what was the deal with those security cameras? If they went down, then those pics got another source."

Numa gives a heavy sigh. "Well at least they used a good photo." He stretches and cracks a kink in his neck. "Mr. Brett makes a good point. This sounds like a frame up. Setting us up to take the fall. On the bright side, I got access to the deck and copied the files."

"Da! That is right! Fucking Jaws!"

Sergei dials Jaws up and leaves it on speaker so all can hear and speak.

After Jaws answers, he responds with:

"Eh, what the fuck, choomba?! You see the news? We’re feeling a bit like you fucked us, Moschenniki!"

Mr. Brett takes a deep breath and slinks down low on the couch. He stretches his arms out along the back and lets his head roll back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah you did, Numa. Anything good in there?"

He pauses a moment and then chuckles at the Russian's heavy handedness.

"Sergei the fuckin Stalinist. Motherland!"

Sergei snarls a bit.

"Stop playing with us then and spit it the fuck out. Half of Night City is gunning for us!"

"This little plan better than last? Being bounty hunted, not so much part of the last deal. Should have charged you more, Choom."

Sergei looks to the others to speak, shrugs and continues.

"What is our cut and how are you getting us in? One does not simply walk into Arasaka."

Sergei looks to see if anyone got his reference.

"This guy gets it."

"Yup, that's about right. OK, I'm in. But whatever he has in mind, for me at least, I want my whole cut up front and a bonus when the job's done."

Brett downs a short glass of milk, cold. A frothy white milk mustache garnishes his face.

"Call it asshole tax. For putting us through this trouble and sticking us with the bill."

"uh, Numa, what all is on that disk we risked our necks to get? Anything on Jaws? Any other leverages? What about shade on some big ups in the meggys?"