The next minutes are oddly uncomfortable as the Johnson says little, but is obviously preoccupied by something, his attention taken wholly by something only he can see. The appetizers set around the table are absolutely delicious, however and after a time, the wait staff brings in what was ordered. Mr. Johnson smiles, finally, and sets to eating.
As he does, he begins to speak.
"So, you guys may or may not have heard of me, but my name is Fox. I've been working Seattle's shadows for a few years now and know my way around. You could do a lot worse than to have a guy like me in your corner. And I appreciate a professional who can get the job done, who I can count on not to frag things up. Someone like that, we can get along. But what I can't stand, absolutely detest, is when someone tries to frag with me. I am sure you can understand that, do any of you like it when someone tries to frag with you?"
He looks up and at each of you. Some of you shake your head slowly at the rhetorical question and he moves on, "So that's what is happening right now. Someone is trying to frag with me. I don't know who it is yet, could be one guy, could be he's just stuck in the middle. But I don't like it. So here's the deal. I had a guy was supposed to deliver a thing for another guy. He didn't. The other guy wants his thing or he wants his money. It's a lot of money. I don't have the money cause I used it to get the thing. Now I look like an idiot. No one likes to look like an idiot and I hate it more than most. So you guys find the guy, find the thing, and find out who is fragging with me and you teach them a lesson. One that ensures they... and others... understand you don't fuck with the Fox."
He pauses as he takes a bite of the fat steak he ordered, chews slowly and, just as one of you is about to speak up he continues.
"So yeah, do this for me and I'll pay you each 8,000 nuyen and give you my commcode."