Old Dog Luck

“You may be the bigger brother, but always remember that I was the bigger man.”

“That it? That’s all he wrote?”

“I don’t think there was anything else to say. I was a rat-bastard of a brother to em. If things went my way, he’d be dead in some mass grave and I’d be living the life of luxury aboard the Celestine… but to be honest Davy, I’m glad it ended up like this.”

“Ha! He cut your arm off, Abby left you, rep’s in the shitter, and your glad it ended up like this? Come now, Red. Give ol’ Davy the full story, I promise to keep it in my locker.”

I’d been coming to Davy’s shokudo by the docks for nearly 23 years. A hole in the wall that most don’t even know to exist and that’s just how I like it. Late night/early morning and just ol’ Davy and I shooting the bit. All the clubs the other mercs like to haunt are too full of chrome and neon for my taste. Hit the job boards and get out, anything more than that and you’re asking for trouble. I used to ask for trouble a lot, thinking that’s what got you the good gigs. Being a merc is a profession where being volatile might even be considered a virtue. But don’t let anyone fool you, it’s all just one bad dice roll away from death. Or worse, ending up as some corps hardware.

I’d been rolling the dice longer than most, little more than ruthlessness got me to where I am. You meet young mercs a dime-a-dozen cause we’re disposable fodder for corporate espionage and proxy wars. A young man's game as they say. But beware the old dogs who manage to survive such a lifestyle. And beware of the price they pay to do so.

While running my fingers over Mike’s heart-shaped locket, now sporting a bullet halfway through it, “I’ve done some bad things in my day. Don’t know a merc who hasn’t. But we’re getting old, Davy. I wanted out. Had a sweet gig lined up to steal some top-secret personality chip from Apophis Industries. You see, my half-brother, Little Mike, is one hell of a hacker. Mainly deals in stolen memory chips but I convinced him this would be the score to retire both of us.”

“Frack, man. You a bigger fool than I thought for going after Apophis. You’ll be lucky if they just kill ya.”

Davy hands me a steaming bowl of ramen, pork belly and black truffles. The smell has my mouth-watering.

“On the house. Ha, my honor to serve a dead man’s last meal.”

“I ain’t dead yet.” Between slurps and mouth fulls, I continue my story. “I knew who I was fracking with, I had a few backup plans to lay the blame on if Mike didn’t work out. How do you think I’m sitting here now?”

“That’s what's got me curious. How’d you managed to escape after Mike cut off your arm? Should have bled out right then and there.”

“Would have too. That’s the biggest insult of all. He hooked me up to one of those military-grade limb crafters. Just happened to be Apophis’s cybernetics lab across the hall... Slapped a new arm on me in less than 10 minutes. Mike turned the crafter on, jammed that note in my pocket, then disappeared.”

“Ha. Unbelievable... What happened next?”

Wow, the old man’s really outdone himself. This is the best ramen I’ve ever had. I pick up the bowl and drink down the broth. Mmhmm. That hits the spot.

“Plan b. I got us in with some stolen lab tech’s id card and DNA, Mike took that of course, but I had a backup id card and DNA hidden in my boot! Ha, that’s why this old dog’s still in a young man’s game. I put on a lab coat and walked out the back, even left a trail incriminating the techs on my way out.”

It’s getting really hot in here. Starting to sweat like a pig. A bit dizzy too.

“What’s that?” Davy points at the necklace I’ve been fidgeting with.

“Mike’s necklace. I think his daughter gave it to em. Stupid little thing spoiled my whole plan. I mean, how does a little chunk of metal like this even manage to stop a bullet?”

“Some Hollywood bit right there.”

“Yea… guess so. Hey, Davy can I get some water? I’m not feeling so goo-”

The room spins before I faceplant the floor. I watch Davy’s feet as they come around the bar. But when he starts speaking, it’s not Davy.

“You messed up bad this time Red. The face scramblers and stolen DNA were good tricks, but that newly crafted arm of yours has a tracer tag in it. Mike probably knew that, hope you know.”

Like a fish out of water, all I can do is flop around on the floor gasping for air. “Wh-who the hell are you? Where’s Davy?”

“Davy’s right here, I’m just borrowing his digibrain for a bit.” Crouching down and tapping the side of his temple. “Lucky for us, this old man’s got Apohpis hardware.”

“Back-backdoors a-are illegal, there’s no wa-”

“Illegal? Ha, maybe for YOU but not for those who own this country.”

“So, wha-what now? You poison me or something?”

“Or something. You get a choice, Red. As you said, you're an old dog and I like that. Makes you interesting enough to keep alive. You actually ingested a nest of nanobots that’s, by now, attached themselves to the base of your skull. The offer’s simple. You work for me and live.”

“Ha, guess I-I ain’t never going to see retirement.”

“What? And be the first merc to do so? Come on Red, you’d hate it. Six months before you’d be back in the game, tops. No. You’re too good a resource to waste. Work for me and I’ll make the best use of your… skills.”

“Sure.”

“What? That’s it?”

“Yeah, what else you want me to say? Kinda got me by the balls here and I figure it might be-be pretty sweet to do some gigs on a corp-p budget. Old dogs can learn new tricks, I promise you that.”

Suddenly, I can move again. Taking a seat back at the counter, I ask for a beer. Davy or whoever pours me a tall glass of Kirin.

“So, what should I call my new employer?”

“You may call me… Seth.”