The bartender was a slightly plump middle-aged woman—or maybe another word would be more appropriate—a strong middle-aged woman.
Her name was Claire, a veteran bartender very interested in newcomers.
Jack rubbed his hands together: "Double old-fashioned tequila, with some beer and chili."
Claire immediately gave a knowing look: "Double Johnny Silverhand, coming right up."
"That's right, chica."
"Looks like someone did their homework—but there are three of you here, what'll you have?"
Lille just opened his mouth when V grinned and said: "Someone's underage, can't drink—okay, no kidding, he's a weakling, terrible health, can't drink."
"Terrible health?" Claire was even more surprised—terrible health and out here as a mercenary?
Even hackers need to be in good shape.
"Pushing limits, you know, pushing limits is my life motto." Lille shrugged helplessly: "Give me some water... no, give me a soda."
"Soda's on the menu but not many folks order it, you're quite the rarity."
