"Jackie, come have a drink with us!"
As Jackie Welles stepped into El Coyote Cojo, a member of the Valentinos, who had just been loudly pestering Mama Welles about drinking with Jackie, immediately stood up and waved him over.
Before Jackie could even respond, Mama Welles, carrying a tray, cut in first: "Jackie, you came just in time. Help me out and bring these over to those two guests."
"I got it, Ma."
Dragged into work the moment he got home, Jackie could only shoot an apologetic glance at his drinking buddies before taking the tray from his mother's hands and heading toward Kai and Oliver. After placing their orders on the table, he casually took a seat beside them.
"What do I call you, mano?"
Jackie Welles—the real deal—was sitting right in front of them. But to Kai, who had already met Viktor, it wasn't all that impressive.
"Kai."
Kai took a sip of the sweet tea in his glass. "You can call me KK."
Tastes just like iced red tea.
"Oliver."
Oliver raised his bottled beer in a small gesture toward Jackie. "You're Jackie, right? I just heard. Have a drink with us—I don't mind getting to know a new friend."
"Sounds good to me."
Jackie had originally approached them out of concern for his mother's bar, wary of two unfamiliar mercs sitting around. But now, he realized these two didn't seem all that dangerous. Accepting Oliver's invitation, he got up and went behind the bar. Under his mother's nagging, he grabbed a bottle of the same beer as Oliver and even cut a plate of jamón (mystery meat, unknown source), bringing it all back to the table. On the way, he made sure to apologize to his Valentino buddies.
"I got some things to do later, so I'll sit this one out. Gonna hang with some new friends here."
"You better join us next time."
"Of course!"
Grinning, Jackie set the plate down, took a big gulp of beer, then turned to the two newcomers.
"Have some jamón. You guys mercs?"
"We literally just formed our crew yesterday. Haven't even taken on a job yet."
Kai drank his 'iced red tea' and tossed a perfectly crispy fry into his mouth. Damn, these fries were incredible. "Heard we might find work at El Coyote Cojo, so we showed up early."
"A fresh squad, huh?"
Jackie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Gotta say, you guys don't look the part. Someone helping you out?"
Most rookie mercs didn't understand the importance of armor or firepower. Even here, in a bar filled with bottom-rung freelancers who lacked fixer contacts, they had at least died a few times—or lost friends—before realizing bulletproof vests and cyberware were a must. Too many gung-ho dreamers saw the legends on the streets, got starry-eyed, and jumped in without a clue.
"We got some help from a ripper named Viktor. Real stand-up guy."
Oliver, feeling completely at ease with Jackie's warm and trustworthy smile, casually mentioned the ripper's name.
Kai, however, had already noticed something beneath Jackie's rough exterior—a sharp, observant mind. Just a few words in, and Oliver was already spilling info.
Not that it mattered much. Kai just stuffed more fries in his mouth.
Too bad El Coyote didn't have ketchup, salt, or even mayo to go with them.
"Viktor?"
Jackie's ears perked up at the name. There weren't many Viktors in Watson, and if Oliver was talking about that Viktor…
"The one in Watson?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"Know him? Man, we go way back."
Jackie's grin widened as his last bit of suspicion faded. If Vik was willing to help these guys, they couldn't be bad people. Looked like he'd just made two new friends.
As Kai joined the conversation, they swapped a few stories about Vik, before Jackie shared his own situation.
"Guess I'm in the same boat as you guys—a fresh merc. I've done a few jobs, but all small stuff. I know a fixer, but I ain't ready to bother him yet. Figured I'd build my rep first—prove myself through skill, not connections."
"Damn, you got real ambition, Jackie."
Oliver admired the guy's drive. He himself had always relied on his dad and sister, and if not for Kai, he wouldn't have even known where to start. But then, he noticed something—
Kai had been chatting away while absolutely demolishing the fries.
Jackie had noticed too. His plate was nearly empty.
"Hey, Kai. How're the fries? My mom makes 'em. Been eating these since I was a kid. Never got tired of 'em."
"They're great. Could use some ketchup, though."
"Exactly!" Jackie's eyes lit up, as if he'd found a kindred spirit. "I keep telling her that! But nah, she insists on plain."
Before he could start a petition to get Mama Welles to allow condiments, new customers walked into El Coyote Cojo.
"Corporate dogs."
Oliver's voice dropped to a whisper. Just like he said, the person stepping in screamed corpo—immaculate suit, perfect makeup, and a high-and-mighty attitude that ruined her otherwise good looks.
"Keep it down, or we're gonna get bit."
Jackie smirked, his voice just as low and mocking. Nobody liked corporate types—arrogant to the rest of the world, but spineless bootlickers to their bosses.
"She's looking at us."
Kai's calm statement made both Jackie and Oliver look up.
Sure enough, the corporate woman, heels clicking against the floor, was walking straight toward them.
'She heard us? What kinda cyberware does she have?'