Shadowrun: Death of a Salaryman

"Do you know a lot about adrenalin Masuda-san?" You ask. "I thought the jobs you'd worked had mostly been pretty routine. Do you do extreme sports in your time off?"

"Ah. Nothing like that--" He pauses as if realizing he's made a slip. Behind him the city nights glitter, cold neon against the night. You catch sight of the running lights swarming away from the Sony building. Response gunships. Not part of a scheduled drill. Everyone is having such a busy night. "I like to play simulation games. I sometimes wish I had more excitement in your life." You don't quite buy it. You can see his eyes moving. If you check his purchase records or have the police do so, you're pretty sure you're not going to find a more than normal amount of violent simulations.

"You don't find your job satisfying?"

"Oh no, it's very satisfying. It's safe, it pays the bills, it keeps me out of trouble. But it's not exciting. It's a puzzle game, not an action-adventure."

"It doesn't seem from your record you've ever been trouble. You were a hellraiser before you joined the company?"

"Uh."

You bring up the records of Masuda's schooling. "I don't see any disciplinary marks here either. This is a side of yourself you haven't shown anyone Masuda-san."

"Are you accusing me of something?"

"You know, the runner got in because the door was opened from the inside."

Masuda visibly flinches. "I don't--"

"Do you want me to get you a lawyer Masuda-san?"

Masuda takes a deep breath, hands trembling. Very deliberately he puts them on the table. "What are my options here?"

"That would be up to my superiors." You say. "But if you don't tell us everything, then you can be sure that your options will be very bad."

"I'm pretty sure my options are going to be bad anyway." He huffs out his breath and looks at you. "I want immunity from prosecution. I can give you useful information."

"I'm sure I can take anything you give me to my superiors. A deal can be worked out."

"Don't give me that shit!" He glares at you. "Don't bullshit me kid! I've been in this game too long. I just wanted to retire. I just wanted a quiet, normal job. To live out my time until retirement." He puts his head in his hands. "I was a decker, you know. A top flight Chiba City Yankee." The Americans call their deckers cowboys. In Japan they are Yankees. The technology of ICE Breakers and cyberdecks were the last great American invention before R&D started to flee to Japan in earnest as the awakening went bad for America. "I never worked against a Japanese company, I got rich, but never enough. My skills and reflexes are old news now. Way behind the bleeding edge. I wanted to work out my time till retirement. Maybe get married. Only there was no way to do that without a fake background. They came to me. They told me that they'd reveal my past if-- if I didn't go along with them."

"I see." You consider him. "And then what happened?"

"I opened up the outer door for one of them. The woman. She was some kind of an adept, but she had a remote hacking rig with her, a decker on the other end I think. And then--" he pauses, emotion on his face. "then they killed everyone."

You consider his story.
Identify the contradictions in his story: (Mark as many as you like. More right than wrong will get a bonus)
[ ] He was the one who called in the security alert on the Ninja. Why would he do that if he was the one to let her in?
[ ] How did he have authorization to open the door?
[ ] Why wouldn't the runners have simply blackmailed him to get the files himself if he was a console jockey?
[ ] Why wouldn't he have turned himself over to the corps legally rather than buying a background like this?
[ ] How does he know the composition of the runner team?

How do you react to Masuda's story?
[ ] Sympathy: Real (terminate the interview and put him under arrest but put in a good word for him)
[ ] Sympathy: feigned (Try to ring out everything you can from him)
[ ] Caution: He's probably going to jump you, call backup.
[ ] Questioning: continue to question him on the parts of his story that don't make sense

2 out of 3 inconsistencies detected. Partial vote for the 3rd.

+1 to Social Skills


You can see three inconsistencies in Masuda if that's his real name's story. The first, and most important is how were the guards called? If he let the runner in, when did he then put out a security alert? The second, why didn't the runners simply blackmail him to get the data? The final inconsistency is less obvious but still you conclude important: How did he know the composition of the runner team? If they were just blackmailing him there's no reason to think they'd have had contact with him like that. Indeed, they might not even have met him directly at all.

You find yourself despising this man. It would have been better if he'd just allowed the data theft to have gone ahead. Internal security would have caught on eventually, and he'd eventually have been caught, but six people would still be alive. You fight down your revulsion and put on an expression of sympathy.

In front of you Masuda is slumped over the table, hands gripping the edge, taking deep breaths, almost as if he's having some kind of panic attack. Perhaps he's regretting his confession. You've observed police interrogations and usually when they interrogate a Yakuza they have to work a lot harder than this, usually for hours. He's spilled quickly, even if it is a lie. It's a lie that incriminates him, and perhaps he knows it.

"Alright, Masuda-san. It's alright." He looks emotional, you pat his arm. "It'll all be over soon. I can see that you're cooperating. Can we just go over a few details though? From the beginning."

"Alright." He lets his breath out. "Alright."

"First, please tell me, how did the runners contact you with their blackmail?"

"I got an anonymous mail, it told me they knew my real identity, and to come to a bar in Kabukicho. I met the runner team there."

"What was the name of the Bar?"

"The Earth Angel."

"The whole team was there, there were six of them right?"

"Yes. That's how I knew who they were." He answers too quickly.

"It's strange that such a formidable group wouldn't use a cutout. Have someone else meet you and talk it over. I've heard such groups are usually careful to conceal their identity."

"I--" He pauses, licks his lips. "I um. Well, this group did. I thought it was very unprofessional of them. Like they were inexperienced."

"But they seemed to have a lot of great gear and overwhelming firepower. I'm sorry Masuda-san, but it just seems really strange to me. Are you sure you're telling the whole truth? My superiors, well, they're not going to like it if there are inconsistencies in my report. They might order a re-interrogation."

"Alright. I'm sorry. I did some research on them. I checked them out. They're a quite famous team in the shadows." His eyes flicker around. He's really scared and not that good at lying.

"Masuda-san. Please don't lie to me. We already know that they have a formidable hacker. You weren't able to beat their information security." This might be overreach. You feel a jerk of worry that you've messed this whole thing up but he slumps and his fingers grip tighter on the table.

"You're right. I-- I know them okay. One of them is the daughter of a guy I used to run with back in the day. That's how they cracked my identity." He takes a deep breath. "I have a terrible reputation in the shadows." He takes a deep breath. "I've betrayed every team I worked with. That's why they didn't let me steal the data myself. They didn't trust me."

"I see." You look at him, stern now, pushing him forward. "And why did you call the guards?"

"I--"

"There's no point in lying now. You already told me everything."

"That bitch!" He slams a fist on the table, startlingly you. "She wouldn't pay. I knew she would if I could get her, get her while she was in the building. I cornered her in the server room, and I told her if she didn't do what I said, I'd call the guards. She laughed at me. She told me-- told me to do it and that all it would get me was pinched."

His hands clench on the side of the table. You realize suddenly that the wooden table is not like you'd use in an interrogation room. It's not bolted to the floor.

[ ] Tell him to take his hands away from the table.
[ ] Shoot him where he sits
[ ] Step immediately back from the table so he can't ram it into you.
[ ] Do nothing.