THE CADILLAC PALACE

by Tat (Heath Doolin)

The stench of some drunks’ bad night with a batch of swill permeated the air as big Al rapped on the heavy iron door in the back, the same way he did every night around nine. He wore the big black t-shirt issued to every ‘protection service custodian’ as Lucas called them, though in the last 2 years he had gone through at least 9 of them. Al was 6 behind Snapper in the t-shirt pool. But those were a legitimate loss of business, it was what Al packed underneath the armored shirt that mattered. Al was a big one, even for a troll. And he worked at it too, in his off time before coming to work. Helps keep your nerves twizzed he remembered Pops telling him when he had first started really pushing his limits. And indeed, it had. Numerous times, Hundreds of fragging times. Hell he could not remember the last time he had had a ‘light’ night. The Cadillac Palace never had a light night.

A pair of eyes appeared at the peekhole. Green. Must be Snapper and that meant…

A deep voice bellowed. "Passwoid, trog."

Al would play along, for now. "Boston Clam Chowda"

"The white or the red?"

"The red of course." Snapper was a big fan of a ancient comedy star named Jim something. Half the time, he was annoying as all get out but occasionally came up with a few good ones. The little exchange was one of his faves from one of this guy Jim’s trid shows. Better to be on Snapper’s good side in case the drek went south though Al. Which invariably in this line of work, it did. Every night.

The locks clanked and the door opened. The spicy smell of curry drifted about Snapper as he ate yet another bowl of Ramen loaded with that crap. He was already dressed for the part, a Detroit baseball cap perched on his head and the wiry frame encased in the usual, black t-shirt and jeans. No shoes too which made Snapper look like a drekking kid. Damn if it doesn’t frag me over that this lil dude in front of me is one of the most dangerous things around here thought Al as he slung his sack into the corner, exchanged grunt of hello with Snapper, and punched in.

---

"The buzz is that the Cadillac Palace will be hosting a possible sneak showing of the ‘Wire Girls’." A groan issued forth from the help, mostly from the security. Al of course chimed in. Lucas furrowed his brows, making his head crinkle up from the back like one of them Shar Pei dogs. "And we are, according to their manager and the big wad of cred he handed to me. So get used to it! Security…protect the girls, but nominal firepower in emergency situations. Bartenders, ring Curtis if you are even half drained, we need to keep em drinking and keep em happy. Girls..You just do your thing. Oh, one other thing, Doom Patrol!" He pointed to Al, Snapper, and the three guys behind them. "Open ended patrolling with suppression on the violence. That goes double for you Snapper! You clear the place again and your hoop is out of the job, Capice?" Snapper nodded slowly but Al could tell the boy was jazzed up and ready to work. It’s gonna be one of those nights.

The Palace was in full swing as Al waded through the throngs of people to his post. He felt a few claps on the back and a ‘hoi chummer’ floated past his ear, only to be drowned out from the racket. Al was known as a solid stand up around the club, mostly from the runners who used the adjoining booths for biz. A hand went up in front of him and he slapped it, palming the credstick and pushing it down into his jeans with one easy move. Looks like a little extra tonight he thought, following the hand as it pointed out to the group sitting in the corner booth. He caught a flurry of movement from the corner as Snapper disabled a drunk ganger with high foot kicks to both sides of his head. Before the ganger had time to retaliate, his arms were grabbed up by the sec boys or the ‘sweepers’ as they were called and he was quickly hustled out the front. Snapper nodded to Al and he leaned forward on the bar overlooking the dance floor. Al made it to his position and began scanning for any sort of trouble. Doom Patrol ready and ripe.

The dance floor was the worst, second only to the bar when it came to confrontation. The pulse and the sweat of the crowd got to people a bit too much. Mix that with a heady concoction of alcohol, chips, and whatever the new mind-fragger was on the street, and you got the old ticking time-bomb. In comes the Palace’s answer to that, the Doom Patrol. About six guys although on some occasions they bring in the 6 others from other nights for double shift, the boys are the grunts of the security group of the Palace. Their job was, to put it mildly, handle the biggest bastards and fight the worst fights. Hence the big black t-shirts with the white letters "DOOM" on both sides. Because mainly they were doomed. To be killed, to be hurt, and always to be in the worst shape at the end of the night. The shirt carried weight here because so many people wearing it had lost their lives in some of the bloodiest brawling outside a Urban brawl blood match. Al had seen plenty of chummers lose to a faster punk or let themselves be gutted by some slitch when they let their guard down. Only the best survived and Al was one of them.

He watched as the Sec team cattle-prodded some elf that had jumped up on one of the cages where Betty was busy bouncing her best options to the beat of Owl Laughter’s latest. The sweepers came though and hustled the woozy but cursing elf out of the way. Betty looked up and smiled at Al, still keeping the pace her glittering naked body could hold. Al smiled back and raised a hand to her. Sweet gal. A what a nice kid she has. That boy is gonna be a heartbreaker. Betty’s boy was testing near genius levels and with him being only eight, he was already being touted by some major corps and colleges. Betty had been confiding in Al on Lil’ Mikes future. Al was doing his best to help her know all her options. And he knew she was doing her best to keep food on the table.

Al pulled away to rough a corp biff up as she got a little too grabby with Marlene, a waitress assigned to the booths. She screeched like a banshee, personally cursing every part of Al’s family, heritage, sexual preference, and general looks as he lifted her high to carry her to the sweepers. She tried to rake her claws at him but this only made her look like a wiggling monkey in Al’s huge hands, much to the delight of the people he pushed through. He dropped her to the sweepers as she ended her journey with a bite on his hand and a personal promise to use all her power to kill him. Al responded with "I don’t care if you Nadia Marin, no one touches the help." He turned to the one finger salute he got from her as she was dragged off, now cursing the heritage of the pair of sweeper orks helping her on her way. Marlene patted him on the back as he dusted himself off

"Thanks big boy. I am glad you caught her,"

"Null sheen Mar. You call out if you got any more trouble."

She motioned for him to bend down. He hunkered down enough to take in her svelte body encased in the see through plastics. She grinned as she caught him eyeing her. He blushed under the green and red lasers.

"Um..sorry Mar…I can never get used to these costumes."

"Its ok big guy. I know its hard not to stare at them. Listen, the team down there whipped you a lil extra to keep a eye on them right?"

Al nodded to this as his eyes followed hers to the corner booth again. There were four of them there. Two elves, one female, one male, and two Al recognized. One was Crisis, a runner from around the plex who was making a name for himself and the other was a Ork known as Feral. Feral nodded a hello to Al and Crisis only flicked his eyes toward him.

"Well the one called Crisis is expecting trouble. He just wanted you to know that."

"Chill. Thanks Mar"

She smiled again and gave him a kiss on his horn. This again caused a big blush which made her giggle.

"Your welcome big boy." She said and she hustled off to the bar.

Al rose up again and watched her cute rear bounce underneath the plastic mini. Still there are perks to this job. He laughed to himself as he made his way back to his post.

Drake’s voice tittered in Al’s ear which made him look to the control booth. Drake pointed to the floor. The earpiece crackled as Al thumped it and became clear again. "Murphy’s got trouble near Layla’s cage. Al get yer hoop down there. I see at least one troll." Al tapped once on the earpiece for ‘roger’ and looked for a opening below. He spotted it and leaped over the rail. The ground shook around him as he landed, causing many people around him to turn and stare. Al heard a yell and saw a body fly near the stage. Uh Oh. He pushed through the crowd quickly.

"Scuzboys again" he heard in his ear as he finally made it to the circle. Murphy was sidestepping lightly, a big scratch down one arm. His opponent was a norm male with a big knife which he flipped from one hand to the other. A security prod lay bent around a skinny security guy Al knew as "Swallow". He was breathing even though the fist sized dent in his white helmet could have killed him otherwise. It was enough though to send him to slumberland at the feet of a large one eyed troll in leathers who smiled at Al, showing sharpened teeth. Al had heard of this jerk-off, a guy who went by the moniker "Crippler". He snapped a telescoping steel baton and shook it at Al threateningly. Al scowled at him.

"Stay outta this doomboy. This is between Madon and the other doomboy."

"Put that baton away or yer gonna be drekking it out 2 hours from now"

The troll boomed laughter. "HAW HAW…no way yer gonna do that, fragger. Lets get it on!"

He howled as he swung low aiming to break Al’s knee caps.

Al leaped high and rode the gravity down into his right fist, which produced a troll sized pair of brass knucks. The crunch of the trolls nose staggered him back and bounced him against the wall as the crowds parted. The troll yelled murder and swung high. Al caught it in the side of his body underneath his right arm. He slapped his arm down, trapping the baton and looped a left with his free hand into the troll’s kidney. He popped him twice more and felt the troll hike a knee into his groin in hopes for the cheap shot. Al though had been prepared for this and the cup caught the knee. He reared back and slammed his noggin into the jaw of the Troll once. Twice. A third time. He looked up to see the guy’s eyes roll back and he slid to the floor. Turning to help Murphy, Al slowly relaxed at the sight. Snapper stood there beside him, looking down at the ganger whose knife was buried in his own thigh, yelping like a hurt puppy. The sweepers picked up both and grunted as they made their way to the nearest exit. Snapper smiled at Al and slapped Murphy on the back, causing a grunt of pain from Murph.

"Damn I love this job!" he called out as the crowd began to meld in with the other dancers. He lumbered back to his position as Murph went in the back to get some bandages. Al sighed and pushed back into his position, taking with him the baton as a souvenir. Maybe he could get a few nuyen for it later.

Al had four more fights in 3 hours, one where he broke the hand of a poli clubber wired out on chips who was waving a gun around. The baton came in handy there and he heard a little later from Marlene that the two ork sweepers that took the clubber introduced him to the stinking dumpsters in the back rather than the normal street or alley. Perfect place to put garbage like that thought Al to himself But still the club kids, the corpers, the runners, and the punks were generally keeping relatively sane. Al caught sight of one potential danger amongst the rabble, a girl in red and black makeup and red synthleathers. He almost called in when he got a closer look and saw it was not Striper but some wannabe who dressed up like her. Mmm…Striper would not like that if she knew it was going on. Still no one had seen the kick artist in some time. A lot of people were still looking for her and jacking up the price which made her more and more dangerous. As long as she is not on my shift he thought as he broke up a couple practically rutting on top of a table and mentioned for them to get a room. They quickly motioned to do just that and Al sipped from a seltzer water Mar had given him with a smile. The voice in his ear crackled again. The boss this time.

"They are here, prepare for it."

Al slipped his knucks on his hands. He looked over and saw Snapper turn his hat backwards. Running his eyes around, he saw a line of the sec teams forming in front of the stage to barrier the almost assured onrushing throngs. Al cracked his neck and prepared for the lights to dim. He felt a tap on his shoulder. Mar again.

"Your pay is about to be earned."

Al turned his head and saw that a group of Asian norms had settled themselves in the vacated spots left by the elves. He craned his neck and saw them acting like a couple at another table but could tell they were providing cover for the other two. Frag, this is gonna be tough with one eye watching the crowd and one eye watching them.

The lights went down and a scream heralded the entrance of the nova hot band, Wire Girls. 4 biffs of varying age and nationality but all liked to perform naked in front of a crowd. Not original, but certainly they looked good enough to attract a great many people. The lead singer, a blonde Asian biff named Letta Soko broke immediately into a signature song, "Gutterpunk Lust". The din was deafening both from the music and the crowd that screamed and danced. Al positioned himself so that he could scan both the crowd and the runners. He watched them with a off-shot glance so as to not attract attention in case their business went south. The dude called Crisis was talking in low tones, keeping his eyes nailed to the slim Asian man sitting in front of him. The other runners were acting nonchalant but Al could tell they were scoping all the potential enemies within their range. Professionals thought Al They are making sure not to seem like the group. The Asian was getting heated he could see. His mouth kept opening and closing wider and wider which meant he was getting angry, putting force in his words. The one called Crisis was cool, answering each shout from the Asian with small words and gestures. The crowd was getting rowdy, straining against the sec team. Al caught Snapper knocking someone off a table and pushing them into the crowd, his finger pointed at them. Murph and the other boys had their hands full too. The lead guitarist went into a bone shattering riff and everything went blitz.

The riff was the starter as he saw 3 Asian norms fling a table aside and started to draw guns.

Al screamed "DOWN" and plowed over a group of people, knocking them to the ground.

One had his gun halfway out when his face disappeared in a blur of blood and bone accompanied by a thunder of a Predator from Crisis.

The other brought his sights on the calm runner only to suddenly rise up and over the crowd like he had been hit with a huge golf club. He smashed into the main support beam in the middle of the dance floor and fell to the ground with a crunch. Al caught sight of the Elf biff finishing off the spell to fling the Asian high into the air. Those around the mess started running but most did not due to it being too loud.

The third Asian opened up with a Uzi in the direction of the table but the two runners had dove out of the line of fire. He only succeeded in hitting the small Asian man whom he was obviously trying to protect. Al barreled into the man as he swung his line of fire to hit the Ork Feral. All 450 pounds of him lifted the man high into the air, arcing him into a load of speakers before he finally plummeting into the crowd. Shouts and screams accompanied the Asian’s flight as he turned and saw the elf girl do a intricate weave with her hands and send a ball of light flying into a group of Asians who had just arrived on scene. One was caught full bore by the ball and begin to retch and claw at his throat. The others scattered about, trying to find cover.

A Asian girl with a lot of tattoos leveled a big Manhunter toward the mage but was plugged by the black elf positioned behind her, his own guns smoking as the Asian girl fell forward. Crisis rolled forward and brought a Predator to bear on the two to his left. Two bullets sent them sliding into the quickly-emptying aisles.

Al caught site of one of the Asian throwing his gun and bolting. He made it 5 steps before he saw a flying form strike him and a flurry of fists brought him down. Snapper popped up and delivered a final kick before leaping over the bar into the crowd below.

A red-headed woman eyed the fight from her place in the midst of the mayhem and Al almost shouted for her to get down. She raised her arms and clapped her hands together with the sound of thunder permeating the screams and shouts. Al made out the concussive ‘wave’ fly through the air toward the runners. The one called Feral was hit slightly as he scuttled low to avoid her spell. It spun him enough to cause him to crash over a upturned table. The woman began to voice again and a small form appeared in her hand. Looks like something bad. Better take it out.

Al whipped out his newly acquired baton and flung it hard at her. It was a good throw and slammed the thick blunt end into her shoulder with a loud enough pop to tell Al he had dislocated it. She turned to him, anger creasing her beautiful face and started to gesture towards him. He braced himself for the inevitable fireball or something like that, but saw it never came. Crisis stood behind her, though Al never saw him go down. His finger tensed on the trigger of the Predator that was pointed at her head. His whispers to her must have been a warning for she slowly let her hand dangle down and the spell dissipated. Whew, that could have ended worse.

Al turned into a front strike hard enough to bring a ordinary man down, but then again, Al was not ordinary. He grabbed the Asian in front of him and head-butted the guy before he could pull another move. The man went down like a sack of oatmeal. He scanned the room and saw everything was moving to speedy ending. Crisis held the woman long enough for the black elf to throw him a sack to put over her head and some bindings on her body., thereby making her skill at magery ineffective. Feral rose up gripping his side, but keeping his gun moving for any potential fire. The elf mage walked up to him and slowly began to work healing magic over his injured side. Snapper had ushered the band off the stage and stood there looking toward the opening backstage, admiring the view up close probably. Al started to relax when he heard a scream from the bar.

A last Asian rose up slowly, holding Mar in front of him. The barrel of his gun pressed tightly into her neck. He was screaming something in Japanese. His leg was spurting blood from a bullet wound. Al saw red only in his own eyes. He started to walk forward. The Japanese man screamed again in Japanese and decided to try to shoot Al instead. The bullet lodged into Al’s chest then the man froze before getting off another shot. The mage had him locked. Al rushed him as Mar pried herself from the frozen grasp and scampered out of the way. "NOBODY TOUCHES THE HELP!" he yelled into the face of the froze Asian and double slammed two fists into his head with all his might. Needless to say, he was dead before he hit the floor.

---

The runners disappeared quickly, tossing another credstick to Al and one to Snapper as they left. Both sat at the now empty bar as Mar doctored the shot on Al.

"Its not that bad Mar. My dermal caught it. I will have Mikey pull it out of me."

Mar hushed him and continued to lavish the attention on him.

Lucas smacked both the doom patrol on their respective heads as he came upon them from behind.

"You damn Doomboys cost me another nights biz! And fragging if you did not nearly tear my bar apart!"

Snapper started to say something but was quickly shut up by Lucas.

"I cannot handle this treatment. I hired you boys to maintain the peace and instead you cause a Yakuza showdown???"

This was news to Al. He just busted heads and protected his friends and those that hired him. He did not know anything about the Yaks he had killed.

"You’re lucky that none got away and that I am spending my hard earned money to lose the bodies."

Snapper murmured "Like hell. You do not want the publicity."

Lucas’s head went two shades of red. "GET THE FRAG OUT YOU NUTCASES! I EVER SEE YOU HERE AGAIN, I WILL KILL YOU BOTH!!"

Snapper and Al rose. Snapper smiled evilly and feigned a pimp slap at Lucas who lost all of his power-trip and ducked, then got madder when he heard some laughter from the backroom. Both collected their gear and walked out.

---

Al ate the last of his super-stuffer and sat back in the plastic booth of the local Stuffer Shack. Snapper was sipping on a soyshake and giggled to himself.

"What’s so funny?"

"Lucas. He would be really pissed about how we had to cause a near riot to find us new jobs."

Al gazed at his friend with a quizzical look.

"Huh?"

Snapper pulled a card from his pocket. It read "WIRE GIRLS" and written on the back was a private LTG number.

"Seems that the Wire Girls need some personal bodyguards and liked what they saw in us. Said to give them a call and set up a meeting. Minimum pay is 5 times what we were making there. And we get suits!"

Al laughed and pulled his own card from his pocket. It read "NO-NOTHINGS Acquirement Services" with its own LTG number.

"Seems those runners I helped like what they saw and want us as backup. No mention of pay but they said we are good enough to be with the best." Al flipped the card in the middle of the table.

Snapper doubled over with laughter. "And all it took was nearly wrecking the Palace eh? Hell, if I had known that I would have wrecked it 6 months ago!"

Al smiled at this. Life had dealt him some strange nights, but this one may have been a page turner. He was looking to the road ahead and though fraught with danger, it looked pretty golden.

Snapper stopped laughing as he saw the back of the card.

"Hey Al…what’s this?"

Al came back and examined the card again.

"Oh that. Well Mar decided to thank me for saving her life with a meal and from what she said ‘One of the best damned backrubs I will ever have’."

"You Casanova you. Always getting the girl."

"Hey you got 4. I only got 1."

The Stuffer shack employee wondered what was so damn funny as to make two men laugh till they wept.

END TRANS

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AUTHORS NOTES (revised):

The great thing about writing a thing like this is that you can go back at any time and do a bit of revising. I just decided to take a break from the new and fix some probs with the old. The story is the same and all but I just made it nicer. Anyway, hopefully those that are reading TCP for the first time like it. Please write back with any and all comments. It makes me doing this worthwhile.

The No Nothings (Crisis, Feral, Legion, and Hexer), Al, Snapper, the Cadillac Palace and everyone in and around it are my sole creation and cannot be used without the express permission of myself. But I am easy, just ask me first ok? All references to Shadowrun are property of the FASA group and are used with no prior permission. But since I am not making a buck here, I hope they do not mind.