[color=f26522]"Heads up."[/color] was the first words that John heard over the the phone as he picked it up after having left the money, and a small tip, at the place where he had been enjoying his afternoon. Though he himself wasn't sure if what he felt was enjoyment, more like just a simple respect for the quiet before the inevitable shit storm that seemingly permeated every aspect of this godless hellscape called 'The City of Dreams'. Clancy was the one on the phone as John had been told her had a job. He described that it would be worked out in afterlife, and that his employers would prefer he come sooner rather than latter. [color=f26522]"Its a well paying job. One that will set you, and I up for awhile as the one picking the jobs for you Agent Brown. I do have some reservations about it though."[/color] Clancy warned his very steely calm voice ever ready to inform his clients of how he felt about the matter. A true professional Clancy Ryan oversaw the people in this city who preferred a bit more up front agency. Having grown accustomed to this he was a bit intrigued why he would be getting called for a job that the man had reservations about. 

[color=f26522]"The info on the job itself is scarce. The sort of job that is on the hush, and hush. You're being pulled to it for your willingness to get your hands dirty. Directly asked for by the person who called me. I have a feeling that you may be wrangled up in a mess both of us weren't expecting."[/color] Ryan informs him as if the fact changed anything. [color=ed145b]"Then why agree to patch me into this job Clancy? If the risk is dirty enough to worry men like us then why are we even having this conversation?"[/color] questions his handler as if this should even be a thing. It seemed ridiculous that they were even having this talk. 

[color=f26522]"Because as it stands I'd rather be at ground zero of whatever this may be than in the blast radius. Find out, and get it done. I trust you're more than capable of handling it. Ryan out."[/color] his handler hung up and Brown put away his phone. He didn't like being ordered like that but he supposed this all could be an overreaction by Ryan who was not getting the information he usually did. Meticulous to a fault his handler typically preferred to have all the cards out so that they could measure and execute the objective quickly, and cleanly. This just meant that either the persons, or person in charge of this was playing things close to the chest. Was probably against Medtech, or Arishoka. Didn't matter if the job was reasonable he'd hear it out. Not like he had much better to do other than shoot random thugs on the street for the police bounties on repeat offenders. May as well save a trip to the doctor. 

After arriving via taxi at Afterlife Brown couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loathing for the night club. It didn't matter who was running it, it was typically a den of people who looked up to wretches like Johnny Silverhand, the drunk violent ex-military grunt who fucked his way to an early grave, or sought to poorly emulate other 'night city legends'. It didn't matter who that legend was they wanted to make a name for themselves. Typically it was done poorly. He heard of a number of attempts by would be netrunners to try and claim their spoilers from a corpo, or executive of some sort. Never ended well. A casualty of poor choice making, none were missed for their lunatic tendencies. After entering the bar he was stopped giving his name he was promptly told where to go, and without much else in the way of word adjusted his suit, tie, and sunglasses before making his was there.