Swift Eddie’s feet scrabble for purchase in the alley puddle. Gabriel’s prosthetic hand holds him by the neck.
“Someone ordered the hit,” Gabriel hisses, “Who was it?”
“All I… urgh,” gasps Eddie, “All I know is someone from Weyland’s space exploration division was throwing his credits around in Wyldside last Tuesday. Everyone knows that’s where you go for…”
“…for a contract,” finishes Gabriel. His eyes follow the smoke still rising from the ruined city-block.
Eddie swallows. “I didn’t know they would go that far,” he pleads, “No-one could have known.”
Gabriel lets him go. Eddie slumps into the muddy water.
“No-one could have known,” he whimpers.
Gabriel looks up and down the alleyway.
“Where’s the nearest terminal?” he asks.
Eddie gestures at some neon flickering in the gloom. Gabriel hefts his go-bag on his shoulder and stalks towards it.
Eddie calls after him, “Make them pay!”
Gabriel pauses and looks back. The neon shines in his eye.
“I always do,” he says.