IC: Genesis Options

[Mister Juan]

CHAPTER I: The Gospel Of John

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.

And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

And from the light and the darkness, shadows were born.

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.




And God turned away.

[Mister Juan]

03:12:37 Monday April 4th 2070 – Somewhere in Bellevue

“So, what do you suppose we got here?” said Lonestar detective Bill Yates, drinking a now cold and oily tasting coffee, sitting with his back resting on one of the responding patrol cars. His shoulders were already starting to be covered with ashes falling like snow from the sky.

“Well, it could be a number of things.” answered back his partner, Brian Wrights, as he dodged around one of the hoses being rolled out from one of the numerous fire trucks.

Around the Lonestar officer, small windows filled with semi transparent text started to scroll around.

“Initial emergency call was placed by the next door neighbor. He said he heard a woman scream, and a few seconds later gun shots.”

Wrights toyed around with a few AR objects, flipping his own virtual notepad to the next page.

“First officers on the scene report that the house was already on fire.”

Yates took another sip of his coffee, large wrinkles digging in his forehead. Lifting his eyes from his plastic cup, he contemplated the giant blaze raging across the street. What used to be a large and cozy three stories high luxury house had been transformed in a ball of flame. Now, it had been burning for almost two full hours. The intensity of the heat was so that firefighters had started to coat the surrounding houses with cold water, afraid that the heat would ignite them as well.

He contemplated the flames for a few minutes, the smell of smoke choking the ambient air, the sound of cracking furniture and walls, the hissing of water evaporating. He watched, as someones life was being burnt to rubbles. The strange ballet of the flames enthralled him.

Brushing the ashes off of his coat, he lit himself a cigarette.

Now the appearance of the glory of the LORD was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people
Exodus, 24:17

[Vegas]

03:12:37 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Lights, soft." A voice commands in the early morning darkness. Almost instantaneously the main living area of the apartment is bathed in a rich amber glow.

Bare feet sink into plush carpeting with each step. From the kitchen wafts the rich bold aroma of a French roast coffee. The brewing cycle complete, the carafe maintaining the perfect temperature for drinking. Blue eyes cast a glance at an angrily flashing telecom message light. With a defeated shake of a head tendrils of damp jet black hair begin to sway and move almost waking to a life of their own.

Coffee... must have coffee.

Work would have to wait, besides the previous day and its business hadn't completely come to a close yet.

Long and elegant fingers wrap around an oversized cafe au lait mug as the other hand wraps around the handle of the stainless steel carafe and begins to pour the heady elixir of wakefulness. With the carafe replaced on its base it returns to maintaining the perfect temperature of the remaining coffee.

Feet move from the tile of the kitchen to sink once again into the carpet as long legs wrapped in simple loose-fitting black cotton take only a few strides to reach the center of the living room. Sinking into the plush leather of the couch, one finger flicks out to stab a button and the TriD screen on the wall explodes to life in a flash of light and muted sound of the earlier evening news. Another flick of a button and it's muted all together.

A long slow sip of coffee.

A satisfied sigh and the closing of eyes.

Another button pressed.

"Messages retrieving.......retrieving.......You have 15 new messages........"

Eyes opening again to view the caller ID list displaying in the corner of the TriD screen, covering the KONG logo. Some calls could wait until after a few hours of sleep had been procured. Other calls however, always took precedence. A particular call is highlighted and the telecom begins to retrieve the message.

"Retrieving message 8 of 15......"

"Hey love, it's me... Hell of a job you got me roped into. Things are quiet for now so I wanted to check in with you... make sure that, you know, you're ok tonight... "

Wet hair is pressed against leather as a more comfortable position is found, eyes closing as the message continues, the concern in the callers voice evident and sincere as it goes on.

A slow and contented smile plays on her full lips.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

07:30:21 Sunday April 3, 2070 - 1980 W Raye Street, #106 - Seattle, UCAS

Flicker glanced up and down the street, and he could see all the way to the walls surrounding the cemetary from the front of his apartment building, before heading inside.

He entered the apartment and stroked the air in front of his face, manipulating the AROs which told his commlink to transfer the data feed to the trideo screen on the wall of his apartment, then he slid the electric shades which he habitually wore off his head with an audible sigh of relief.

He was tired, having spent yet another useless night touching base with all of the names that his fixer had suggested in order to get his name out there. Of course no one knew anything about any work, not for some newbie with no rep, but Ineki said that was how a new shadowrunner began so that is what Flicker would do. He understood patience, his studies had taught him the value of patience.

He fixed a simple meal of rice and soy and prepared himself for a day of rest. Tomorrow he would begin again.

[BlackHat]

03:12:37 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Renaku Arcology, Seattle, UCAS

The corridor seemed to reverberate with the thunderous beat of synthisized music. Dual's head moved with the rhythm as he looked over the cryptic symbols spilling across an AR window in his peripheral vision and at little red and blue dots moving around a green wireframe map floating in the air in front of him. A small timer ticked down, less than 20 minutes to go. Plenty of time.

"Alpha Team. Report." he muttered into his mouthpiece.
"Location secure. No enemy contact." The response was clear, dispite the background noise, but in contrast to the words being spoken, the speaker seemed excited and almost shouting. Definatly have to work on that later...

He inched closer to the doorway. "Eyes on. Room 1145." Another AR window appeared in his field of view, showing a low-res image of the next room. There it was. Amid the chaos of the laboratory, a glowing tube of unknown and inconsequential contents sat seemingly unguarded. "Laser grid down, yet?" he asked, while cycling through various vision options to check for himself.

"No dice, Dual," came a familiar voice, in a tone that said it wasn't going to come down any time soon. "They've taken the security host. We've got about 3 minutes before they turn this whole place on us." Sure enough, Dual's viewport reached a setting where a number of laser lines cut across the room.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the sounds of gunfire shot through Dual's earpiece. Surprisingly, Dual laughed. "3 minutes, eh?"

Low-light vision kicked in as he rounded the corner into the room. Red lines spiderwebbed out across his green vision indicating the locations of the lasers. Almost in step with the music Dual began to jump and dive making his way to the tube. He made it pretty far before accidentally crossing one, which activated a number of sentry-drones mounted in the ceiling. Bullets began to fill the laboratory.

"Enemy contacts detected," shouted the first voice.

Thanks

As Dual reached out for the glowing tube, the doors on the opposite side of the walls opened - then everythign went black.

"Got it." Dual's voice rang out in the darkness, followed by a number of congratulatory remarks from other disembodied voices.


Moments later he found himself in his living room, again. The scoreboards lit up the far wall of the room, but Dual didn't bother to look, he was already loggin into the next game. He was on a roll tonight....

[Shadow]

1400 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Club Zero, Seattle, UCAS

Gun approached the entrance to the Lake Washington club from the south parking lot. It was April and raining, the usual weather for this time of year. The 33 year old enforcer was wearing his usual clothes, dark slacks, dark shirt, maroon tie, covered with a thigh length black leather Versace coat. He ended his ensemble with real leather loafers.

Rain pelted off his razor clean head. The doorman, a 20-ish looking muscle beach type, held out his hand to stop him.

"Club employees only befo..." Gun slipped his hand around the young mans, pushed his thumb into the knuckle between the index and middle finger, applied pressure and twisted. He left the muscle head on his knees panting for breath. Gun stepped into the closed door, knocking it off it's hinges.

Utter silence greeted him. Two men were sitting at the bar, an older fat man named Ricardo Goval, and some young punk who Gun didn't recognize.

"Ah, senior Gun, hola."

The man's facade of a Spanish accent grated on the Enforcer. Gun walked wide of the bar and approached the two head on. The younger man hopped off the stool and straitened his coat. He stepped between Gun and Goval.

"This here is Mister Goval, he is not to be spoken to, you speak to me, you understand?"

Gun wasn't tall or short really, 5'11 was about average. The man speaking to him was an ork and probably had 5 inches on Gun and a hundred pounds.

"You're good at what you do kid?"

The young punk smiled and turned to Goval, as if to re-assure the man he had it taken care of. The instant his head turned Gun rammed his knee into the mans crotch. Gun's bio-engineered muscles flattened the ork's manhood and sent the remains into his stomach. Gun simply twisted and tossed the ork down to the floor. He was in to much pain to even scream, just whimper and moan.

Goval's face fell. He couldn't take his eyes off the 3k a day body guard, lying on the floor like a little girl.

"Look at me Goval," the man did so. Gun was standing six inches away from him.

"Two weeks ago Mr. Giovanni's god daughter was "entertained" in this club. Needless to say he is very unhappy with this establishment in the way that you have tried to cover up this unfortunate happening. Now, I want the names of the individuals involved, I want their home addresses, I want their Credstick numbers, I want it all."

Goval looked at the mans coal black eyes and saw nothing there. No emotion of any kind. He imagined himself as a flee, annoy him and he would kill him, and he would sleep very well at night.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the guy telling you the way it's going to be."

Fifteen minutes later Gun exited the club with all the names of the men who had been involved. Punishment for their crime was not his area, getting the information was. It looked like the rain was stopping. Could be a good time to get a slice at Palligacci's.

[Mister Juan]

14:31:22 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

Gun had just parked his rented wheels in front of Palligacci's when the commlink clipped to his belt start to gently buzz. It was too early to be Mr. Giovanni already checking up on the work day of the enforcer. The caller ID flashing in Gun'scybereyes was familiar… and either meant a very good thing, or a very bad one.

Michael Cesarino.

Cesarino was one of the so called Sottocapo, and underboss, for the Finnigan family. It was well known amongst “la Familia” that Cesarino was one of Rowena most trusted associate. He was “the man” when it came to damage control. A call from him either meant that Gunhad inadvertently stepped on some Finnigan toes… or that someone needed to have their toes bashed to jelly.

Thumbing the answering button, Cesarino’s Italian accented and deep voice echoed in the confine of the car.

“Good evening Gun. It has been quite some time since we’ve seen you. I hear from our Bigos and Ciarniellos friends that you are doing quite well.”

“What can I do for the Finnigans?”

“Straight to the point. I like that in a man. Here’s the story. The family of a friend of ours have the unfortunate victim of an accident. This friend of ours has done many things for us. Things for which we are very grateful. We need to know who is behind this “accident”… If someone is bringing another war on our door, we’d rather know as soon as possible. We’re putting a team together; outsiders mostly. But we need someone we can trust to watch things; one of us. The meet is this evening, 17 sharp at The Sport Bar. I’ll be there with our friend.”

[Mister Juan]

09:44:12 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

A’ja was woken up by the steady pulse of her answering machine. Somewhere during the early ours of the morning, she had dozed off… and calls had accumulated themselves. Lots of them.

With a sigh, she scrolled her way through the AR list hovering in the air in front of her. Most of the calls were from “local talents” looking for work. A few more were from people searching either for a fence, information or gear. The usual. The very last call, on the other hand, was a bit more… unexpected.

Most caller Ids in the list were either unreadable or spoofed. But, this one was different. It’s origin was clear and precise. The caller wanted to make sure A’ja knew who he was.

The young woman had never spoke to the man. She did handle some business for the organization he represented… but always in an rather indirect manner. Michael Cesarino, a well known and well connected underboss of Seattle’s mafia.

With a slight tint of hesitation, A’ja ran the recorded message.

“Good morning Miss Rose. I am certain you know who I am, and so, I will skip the presentation. We would like you to handle some business for us. I cannot discuss the details of such business on the line, and so, I would very much like to meet you in person. We also need the services of two other operatives. We know you are very well connected, and so, we’ll trust your own judgment in this matter. The meeting will take place at The Sport Bar, 17 sharp, today. I trust it you’ll be there.”

And he hung up.
Somehow… the last part of the message didn’t sound like a plea.

[Shadow]

Gun let a beat fly by.

"As Mr. Giovoni's personal Enforcer I am happy to address this issue for you. I will of course have to ask permission. The Giovoni's are always happy to help out our Seattle cousins."

Gun let the phone disconnect and thought about what he said. He had come to Seattle nearly five years ago and ended up staying. He still did a lot of jobs for both the Seattle and San Fran mobs. Lately it has been looking after Giovoni's grand daughter. A task which he was just recently put on. Now this. His plan to break out of the mobster role had fallen considerably short. Still he strived for it. Something was missing in his life and he would continue to strive for it. He put a call into Giovonis secretary, not wanting to disturb the elderly man.

[Vegas]

09:53:36 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

A’ja looked at the caller ID one more time and shook her head as she rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes.

“Goddamnit.” They never made it easy.

She wasn’t surprised in the slightest that she was now in Michael Cesarino’s little black book, but it was interesting that he was turning to her for a talent search. She always figured the Mafia had an in-house stable of people to call on in times like these. They usually only hired out when it was more important that the job wasn’t easily tied back to the family.

That was the first indication that things were about to get interesting, at least enough so that the little hairs on the back of her neck were trying to get her attention. She didn’t blame Cesarino for not discussing the particulars over the line, considering he made no effort to hide his tracks when he called her. 5 pm, tonight. Short notice, but she wasn’t about to let a Mafia underboss down. At least not one with whom she wanted to keep a working relationship with.

She glanced at the clock as she was already starting to thumb through her mental rolodex of names, numbers, fixers and their respective talent. She started talking softly to herself as she paced about the apartment, talking things through as she made her decisions.

“Seven hours and counting. Gotta lock these two spots up within 4. Muscle is easy to hire on short notice. Takes more time to find magical and technical support.”

She marks off a good piece of her network, keeping a few people in mind should the details of the job call for more of an combat-oriented angle. Thinking of the other fixers she’d worked well with in the past and were more than willing to reciprocate favours when the time was right and who might be sporting some talent who could fit her needs she decides to give Ineki and Shara a call.

Nearly an hour later she’s got two names, complete with contact information, that might fit the bill and would likely be willing to work on such short notice. Dual and Flicker.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

More videophone calls are placed and messages are left for Dual and Flicker as the Elven woman continues to pace the plush carpets of the apartment. The messages are almost identical with the limited details that she had to provide them; the fact she had gotten their names from their respective fixers, the mention for a possible hire-on for a job that could make use of their particular skills and that their interview would take place at The Sport Bar at 17h tonight, to look for her and to show up early if they wanted her to take them seriously.

She liked to butter them up, even if she had to cut them loose later. It was just easier that way.

[Mister Juan]

14:33:12 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

"But of course. Please give Mr. Giovoni our best of wishes. " replied Michael.

Gun could almost hear the underboss smile across the line.

Getting a hold of Giovoni's secretary was a piece of cake. Her bubbly and delicious voice came through the commlink's speaker phone like sweet music.

"Good evening Mister Gun. What can I possibly do for you on this beautiful day?"

[Cedric Rolfsson]

12:15:28 Sunday April 3, 2070 - 1980 W Raye Street, #106 - Seattle, UCAS

Flicker looked at the two messages on his trideo screen, having spent the first ten minutes dumping the spam and auto-dialed solicitations, and wondered about his decision.

His fixer had called to verify that someone might be looking to hire him and that he'd passed on the message drop to that person, a local named A'ja. The other message was from this person, indicating that a job opportunity had arisen that called for someone of his talents.

Such a job could mean anything, no matter how deep the shadow pool a mage's talents could always be used, no matter how thin his resume. Of course he would be there, he needed the money and this would be the first of many jobs. He had a reputation to make and a fortune to amass.

[Shadow]

14:34:00 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

Gun waived the cute teenage waitress over and then held up his hand as the secratary came through.

"The local familly has asked me to work a job for them, I just wanted to make sure it was right with the old man."

Gun looked up into the blue eyes of the serving girl, "Pesto Primo, and glass of Athabaskan Amber," he slipped a 20 out of his pocket and handed it to her. She smiled the big smil that girls get when you give them to much money, and ran to get his order.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

12:45:08 Monday April 4, 2070 - 1980 W Raye Street, #106 - Seattle, UCAS

Flicker stepped back and examined the now cleared living room of his apartment with a critical eye.

He'd spent half an hour preparing the area for his summoning and binding ritual, carefully preparing a binding circle utilizing some of the material from his small store of "borrowed" binding materials. He could trust these materials since they'd come from Professor Duncan's stores at MIT&T six months ago, which meant they beat anything he could get at one of the commerical talismonger's shops. The circle used a Garrett-Hui base but Flicker had added his own touch by also crafting a classic perfect double octogram within the G-H binding circle's diameter and filling the vacant area within the octogram with the equation recommended by the Asano-Whiteagle text for dealing with air elementals. Although his summoning study group had often debated the value of the double octogram patern Flicker had always used it, simply because it felt right for him.

Finally comfortable with the preparations he prepared the incense sticks and placed them within the small saucer's he would use as candle holders, placing each incense stick at a point of the octogram where it touched the G-H binding circle, and knelt just outside the circle to begin the ritual. He breathed and opened himself to astral space and began the ritual, slowly connecting his own energy patterns to the free mana energy in the air around him and easing it into the long memorized patterns in his mind.

15:45:08 Monday April 4, 2070 - 1980 W Raye Street, #106 - Seattle, UCAS

Flicker brought his hands down from shoulder height and clasped them in front of his chest, completing the somatic part of the ritual and feeling the energy patterns alter within the binding circle implode in response. He watched the latice form, waving altering lines instead of straight interlocking ones, twisting helix patterns rather than the solidity of earth; perfect. The air elemental formed into a whirling twisting shape within the binding circle looking like a tornado given arms and a face, fighting by its very nature to be free of the constraints placed upon it by the patterns and rituals and enforced by the strength of his will. Flicker could feel the energy patterns lock the elemental into his service and knew instinctively that this summoning and binding was a powerful success, binding the elemental into a number of services. The power of the summoning backlashed across the link between Flicker and the newly summoned spirit, the result of the elemental's struggle to resist, overloading the biological circuit within his genes that allowed him to channel mana and effecting as a mild head ache. Flicker shrugged off the discomfort, as a small price to pay, and addressed himself to the elemental.

"You shall serve me as I command, in this you are bound by the very forces of the universe. Nature's laws, which bind us all, bind you as my servant. Do you dispute this?"

The elemental drew in on itself and then expanded and settled, forming an astral shape that flowed and shifted but always within the bounds of the binding circle. This time the elemental attempted to slip away from the bounds of his binding ritual, to evaporate between the cracks. Flicker clenched his will, powering the binding ritual by his own determination, focusing the energy patterns into the element's very nature. The backlash hit him between the eyes like a Troll's punch and his vision blurred. His minor headache exploded into a full grown migrane but he refused to bow to the pain and locked the binding ritual into the elemental's being.

Eventually the elemental ceased its struggle and it spoke. When it spoke its voice sounded like the shriek of a strong wind blowing through the gutters along his old boarding school in Chicago, high pitched and harsh but distinctly feminine in pitch.

Yes, Master, I shall serve as my nature demands.

The voice existed as much instead his head as was heard with Flicker's physical senses and he replied in pure thought and will.

What are you called, that I may address you with specificity?

I am called Ariel, Master.

Very well, Ariel. You may return to your place of rest until I summon you further.

With one last whistling shriek the elemental spun into a swirling energy vortex and disappeared from the astral space around him. Tired, and now feeling the headache, Flicker returned his perceptions to the purely mundane realm of visible light. He noted that several hours had passed and as normal all of his hoarded materials had been consumed. Sighing a small satisfied sigh, the young Ork mage rose and headed for the small bedroom. He could take a short nap to recover and still have time to get to the meet if only barely and now he would have the comfort of knowing he had back up available if he needed. The young mage staggered off to the bedroom for a deserved rest.

[Mister Juan]

14:34:12 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

"Could you just hold on a second." she said in the same bubbly voice.

A few moments passed by. The little bell hung over the door jiggled once or twice. Somewhere a knife scrapped agaisnt a plate. The sound of something boiling filled the room for a second as the door to the kitchen opened and closed behind a waiter. A kid was laughing.

"What is this Gun? You call and can't take the time to say hello?" said Giovoni in a joking tone.

"How are you doing lad? Did you have a talk with our mutual friend?"

[Shadow]

14:34:12 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS
"Sorry sir, glad to hear you are feeling well." Of all the people in the world, Giovoni was the only man Gun looked up to, almost like a father. Not that either of the stubborn men would ever admit anything like that.

"I sent the names over to the security team, things will be taken care of. Mr. Goval expresses his deepest concern and when he gets out of the hospital will do his best to rectify it."

Gun paused as the old man chuckled a bit.

"as for why I am calling now, I have been asked to help out on a local family matter, I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before doing so."

[Mister Juan]

14:34:30 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

"That is very good news. Almost music to my ears."

The older man chuckled at the other end of the line. He had known Gun for quite some time now... and had never seen him as one of his employee, or gun for hire. He was his friend. His dear friend. The son he never had.

"You are in no way my retainer lad. You are a free man. If you feel like you can be of help to deal with this matter, please do."

A few seconds passed as Giovoni coughed. The old man smoke too much for his own good.

"If you happen to cross path with Rowena, please give her my greetings." he said in a now raspy voice.

[Shadow]

14:35:26 Monday April 4th, 2070 - Palligacci's, Seattle, UCAS

"Of course, now get some rest, and listen to your nurse, she more than a pair of legs."

The two exchanged goodbyes, but it was brief. Giovoni was coughing so hard he could barely whisper. It pained Gun to hear the old man in such a way. For twenty years he ruled the San Fran Mob with an iron fist. When he was gone, well there wouldn't be any reason to go back.

He had till five to pick up the gear he needed and then get to the meeting, shouldn't be a problem at all. A quick stop at his apartment and he had his extra knives and a bandolier of throwing blades.

[Vegas]

11:01:07 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

So far she was holding up her end of a deal she never got a chance to agree to but really didn’t see a reason not to at least make the meet and show up with what was requested of her. Closing her eyes, she was even more aware of the clock ticking the seconds away in the corner of her vision in a tasteful, but still glowing shade of pink.

There was a bit of legwork to do before this evening’s engagement rolled around, she needed to gather up any info on Cesarino and the Family that she could. She wanted to be prepared for anything walking into the bar tonight, it wouldn’t do well if she was thrown a curve ball and she hadn’t done her homework. She started putting out feelers, to those with their ears to the streets and seeing just what she could skim off the surface about anything that was going on in the ranks these days. A couple of calls to lower level gang guys, they always managed to know what was going on with everyone else’s dirty laundry. Hell these guys were worse than the screamsheet gossip columnists sometimes. Phayzal and Jinx usually came through for her in a pinch and no one was the wiser since they worked their networks as well as she did on a regular basis. They both knew she was good for the info, she’d make it up to them soon enough she was sure.

With her requests made, she figured she had a good couple of hours before she’d hear back from either of the boys, and she had some primping and stress-relieving to do before arriving at the bar. Besides, an insanely hot bubble bath was calling her name and she still had to run a few other errands for business that wasn’t related to tonight’s meet.

[BlackHat]

14:05:25 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 3719 8th St. Apartment #14, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Dual awoke, around 2 in the afternoon, to the sound of a woman saying his name and gently nudging him. "Dual, its past two. You have a message." He rolled over in bed, away from the voice, but smiled. He liked that she called him "Dual." Unfortunatly she didn't have a "snooze" button. His nose filled with the smell of bacon and breakfast and he knew his simsense programs wern't going to let him sleep much longer than this. The reality of Monday was going to attack his senses until he had no choice but to get out of bed and experience it.

"The message is on your 'work-line'." She said.

That got his attention.

As he sat up in bed, the lights in the gigantic aquarium taking up the wall on the other side of the room slowly came on. They bathed the room in a warm blue glow that was easy on his eyes. Sure enough, of the hundreds of fish swiming around in there, one of them was larger than the others, and flashing red with some sort of inner-glow.

Dual reached out with both hands and drew a rectangle in the air. Glowing blue lines outlined the shape, and then filled it in with a two-dimensional window showing a lot of data. The important part, the sender of the message, didn't ring any bells with Dual. His programs cross-referensed the number with his contact-lists and came up empty. Not surprising. Its probably spoofed.

He tapped the window, and the video-recording came to life. Some woman Dual didn't recognise said she found him through Shara. The meet was at 5. Come early.

Well, it'd be nice to take a real job, again - but there wern't a lot of details....

Dual double-checked that there wern't any other messages (specifically from Shara) and decided to give her a call to make sure this was legit.

In response to his desires, an attractive dark-skinned woman walked into his room. "If you have this number, you know the drill...." She said, keeping her eyes on Dual. "...BEEP." The expression on her face when she beeped was priceless, and Dual couldn't help but laugh. He would have to adjust the voice-mail settings on his virtual represenation of Shara, since he spent a lot of time talking to her voice-mail.

"Hey, Shara. It's Dual. I got a call from woman about a job and a meet at a sports bar - said she found me through you. Just checking that everything's on the up-and-up." Dual shrugged, and the woman vanished. Might as well get ready to go. The meet is in a nice public place, what is the worst that could happen?

He opened up another window in mid-air, and started composing a response to the voicemail message as he walked into his kitchen to get some food. He designed it to be impersonal - the video feed would be a stock image of a roman numeral "two" accomanied by the text "I'll be there by 4." He thought about asking a few other questions - but decided against it. Might as well do this one by the books. He had seen the woman in her video-message, so he had some idea who to look for. Now he just had to get ready.

His applianced had already flavored his soy-breakfast - and his ARE programmings masked the rest of the experience. Dual enjoyed a nice omellete.

[Mister Juan]

15:00:01 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

By fifteen o'clock, both Phayzal and Jinx had reported back in. And both seemed beaten, like they had spent all night out... and most of the morning. In a strange coincidence, some caporegimes, Mafia captains, had hired some Ancient gangers to guard a warehouse, while the Cutter had been to watch a bunch of dock workers unload some cargo.

After talking with both gangers, she had been able to amas a rather nice sum of information.

First, she now knew vaguely what Michael Cesarino looked like. A human, in his late forties, said to be strong as a bull, small and stocky and salt and pepper hair. One of the four Sottocapos (underboss) for the Finnigan family in Seattle, street buz about him said he was one of Rowena O’Malley’s must trusted men, and so, he’s usually the one who handles the delicate business of the family. A very careful man who also has a strong tendency to use “associates” instead of made men for his work… which is something other sottocapo and family members don’t really like.

Jinx also pointed out, cleverly that the hiring of outsiders was usually handled by Caporegimes, or captains… which meant that if Cesarino was reaching out himself, chances were it was a touchy matter.

On the account of the Mafia and Finnigans in Seattle, what A'ja got was pretty much what she already knew. Some of that stuff had even been printed in the papers a few years back. There were three families established in Seattle; the Finnigans, Bigios and Ciarniellos, with the Finnigans mostly running things. Rowena O’Malley was “Don” of the Finnigan family, ever since her father was killed by assassins about 7 years ago. She still hasn’t been able to get official recognition from the other families, and is still fighting to get the Capo position: the head of all the families in Seattle.

Rumors say that recently, the UCAS Federal Bureau of Investigation has been snooping around the Finnigans, trying to break inside their circle. Rowena hasn’t been seen in a few weeks.

"Some say she dead. Others, that she was arrested. But if she’s out of the picture, why are things still running that smoothly?"

Since yesterday, Mafia muscle presence seems to have double at every single of their joint. According to Phayzal in other gangs, many gangers have been hired to guard warehouses, and the usual mafia hangouts are either deserted or heavily guarded.

"Something spooked a lot of people. Not sure if it’s related… but the Yaks are also beefing up their own security. Smells like a war might be coming. If you in biz with the organized boys, you might want to watch your back A'ja."

[Vegas]

15:15:04 Monday April 4th, 2070 - 2515 5th Ave. Penthouse C, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

“Thanks Phayz, I’ll keep an eye on my six. I owe you one for all of this. Give me a call when you and your boys need to have something fall off the back of a truck somewhere ok?” She was sure Phayzal could hear the smile on her face right before she terminated the call.

This was shaping up to be a very delicate matter indeed. She’d have to step carefully tonight, watching Cesarino for any clues he was trying to screw them, and just what she was getting herself into. She momentarily cursed herself for using “take-out” talent instead of the regulars from her own lists, but she already had most of them out on jobs already. She forced herself to take a deep breath and decided to run a quick lookup online about The Sports Bar. Even the most cursory of searches returned to her not only the location and LTG number, but the recently updated menu as well as it’s apparent Family ties. She also takes note not to eat there anytime soon off the clock.

Checking the time she decides it’s now or never. She heads into her bedroom and starts to get ready, already having decided what outfit would rise to the occasion for the evening. One thing she was certain to always do going into a meet was dress to impress depending on who she was meeting. She second-guessed herself and at the last moment slipped her Slivergun into a concealable holster and settled it at the small of her back, the cut of her clothing, making it’s presence almost invisible.

Once she was truly dressed and ready, she unnecessarily reviewed the information on Cesarino and the Finnegans one last time after committing it to memory earlier, before heading downstairs to the car waiting at the front door that the doorman Thom just buzzed to let her know had arrived.

16:37:25 Monday April 4th, 2070 – The Sport Bar at University Street & Terry Avenue, Seattle, UCAS

As a light and acidic rain was falling over a dreary and grey Seattle, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled up outside the bar, the car screamed stereotypical government agent, however the woman who stepped out of the back, was anything but.

Long legs ending in a smart pair of Jimmy Choo II’s were wrapped in a pair of clean-line charcoal grey Giovanni trousers. A matching suit jacket tailored to fit and accentuate every curve of her upper body with a deep enough V-cut to the lapels and no visible blouse underneath, made it pointedly clear she wasn’t just another woman working in the government ranks, she was something else entirely. The only colour on the woman from head to toe was a tiny swatch of crystal blue fabric tucked into the breast pocket of the suit jacket.

As she stood across the street from the bar, she pushed a pair of designer sunglasses to onto the top of her head, revealing a pair of eyes that matched the blue on her lapel. The eyes moved from one side to the other, slowly taking in every detail of the exterior of the place before she stepped off the curb and crossed the street to enter the restaurant to meet her party.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

16:50:18 Monday April 4, 2070 - Outside the Sport Bar - Seattle, UCAS

Flicker still could feel the vestiages of the headache hovering behind his eyes, not really painful but like a nagging itch that distracted him. It was a sensation that he'd felt so many times before he wore it like an old shirt, something familiar if not terribly comfortable.

He got out of the taxi, paying the bonus he'd promised for violating the traffic laws. Flicker had over slept, recovering from the summoning and binding earlier and had almost missed his meeting. He'd been lucky to find a cabbie willing to ignore almost every traffic law ever written in getting him to the meet.

The young Ork mage turned his PAN to hidden mode, figuring it wouldn't cause much attention here and not wanting to leave too obvious a data trail, then adjusted the Seattle Outlaws combat biker cap he wore so the bill almost touch the back of his neck. The ballcap matched the T-shirt he wore under his armored jacket and the blue jeans and black with blue sneakers he wore. He knew the baseball cap and heavily armored brand new synthleather jacket made him look a little odd but the idea was to create an image that drew people's eyes to his clothing rather than his face, just in case Lone Star ever decided to try and assemble a ID profile.

He hustled towards the front doors of the bar, hoping he'd find his contact inside quickly so they could go over whatever needed to be said before the meeting.

[BlackHat]

15:25:18 Monday April 4, 2070 - En Route to the Sport Bar - Seattle, UCAS

Dual stood on the bus, quietly, just like everyone else. His eyes wandered around, taking are not to meet the stares of anyone when he could avoid it. Dispite his attempts to look like he wasn't interested in them, his eyes were gathering more information than they knew. Millimeter waves penitrated their clothing revealing whatever they were carrying around with them, while his radio scanners began to catalogue their commlink data, and snapshots of their faces found their way into his memory. He wasn't really looking for anythign in particular, but beter safe than sorry. He made note of a man (a buisnessman by the look of him) with an artificial arm, a young woman with a surprising number of datachips in her purse, a few people carrying concealed pistols, and two gangers armed with knives. The scan results were crossreferenced with the databases he had on various weapon and cybernetic models, and they became highlighted in his field of view with the important information appearing as a tooltip when his attention drifted there.

Once he was satisfied with his situaltional awareness, and had set his select sound filters to drown out the ambiant noise and focus in on the people of interest - his attention wandered back to the virtual world. The rest of the bus-ride was a blur, as he became lost among the various matrix iconography around him - but his attention was drawn back to the real world when one of his filters announced the bus's arrival at his stop.

15:59:29 Monday April 4, 2070 - The Sport Bar - Seattle, UCAS

Dual hustled down the street and finally found the Sports Bar. Normally he wouldn't have bothered jogging, but he told A'ja he would be there by 4, and it was nearly 4 now. he slowed his pace as he reached the front door, catching his breath. Cutting it close....

[Mister Juan]

15:59:29 Monday April 4, 2070 - The Sport Bar at University Street & Terry Avenue, Seattle, UCAS

Dual

[ Spoiler ]

Rounding the corner in at jogging speed, Dual had barely the time to avoid crashing into a old man who looks like a cross between a preacher and a hobo. A white preacher collar surrounded his neck from where a large wooden cross hung. He smelled a mix of urine and alcohol, and looked at the young runner with yellow and blood shot eyes. He extended a trembling had toward Dual, as if he was trying to catch him… or to point something out. Picking up the pace toward the bar, Dual picked up the distant rambling of the old man.

“'The fourth beast shall be a fourth kingdom on earth, which shall be different from the other kingdoms, and shall devour the whole earth, trample it and break it in pieces”

As Dual glanced back to give the street preacher one last look, he noticed something. Usually, and to most people, this small detail would have meant very little. But to the young hacker, it was quite another story. Amongst the car parked along the sidewalk, one of them had two people simply sitting in it. They were just there… doing nothing at all… until they noticed Dual looking in their direction. The passenger leaned over to say something to the driver, and a few seconds later, the brown Ford Americar was roaring to life and driving away.

A few seconds later, Dual was the door of THE Sports Bar. What looked like two corporate suits were standing outside, having a smoke under Seattle’s clouded sky. They both stopped talking when Dual approached them, satisfied in staring at him until he was inside the bar.

Contrary to the hard stare of the two men outside, the elven waitress behind the little reception stand seemed rather happy to see Dual. She smiled broadly at him, showing white pearl teeth.

“Welcome to the Sports Bar.” She said in a slightly high-pitched voice.

“I’m really sorry, but we’re currently full. If you’d like to wait at the bar, I have a few tables who should be ready in about 20 minutes.”

Smiling back at the cute elven girl, Dual thanked her and headed for the bar.

THE Sports Bar was divided in two large rooms. Each room is usually reserved for one sporting event in particular, but strangely, the giant trid screens are showing both a boxing match and a baseball game. Contrary to the almost deserted bar, the main floor is packed at fully capacity. Even near dinner time, such a crowd is a bit surprising. Patrons are a mix of corporate suits, a few construction workers here and there, and numerous families. Metatypes are like ethnicities; extremely diverse. It’s as if a sampling of sports fan from every origin, up bringing, race and social class was taken and packed into the large room. A giant AR scoreboard hovering above the room, tracking scores for dozen of different sports/teams in over 20 different countries.

The doors connecting to the other section of THE Sports bar are all closed, with what seems like paper covering the plastic windows in them. An AR sign hovers in front of each door; it’s yellow translucent letters slowly revolving on a central axis. “Section Closed for Renovations”.

Next to one of the closed doors sits a tall and large human, on a tipped back wooden chair, reading a screemsheet. Strangely, he’s paying no attention what so ever to the game in progress. As he slowly flips the pages, Dual can notice the butt of a pistol sticking out from under his arm.

Waiting for his drink, Dual gave a side glance to the only other man seated at the bar. Young, human, probably in his mid twenties. Nothing particular. Except the fact he was wearing a small white earpiece. That and the fact that his back was turned to bar’s trid screen. His eyes keep darting around the main floor. Once in a while, he would press the earpiece in, nod to himself and looks over at the main floor. That guy was most certainly not a sports fan.

16:37:25 Monday April 4th, 2070 – The Sport Bar at University Street & Terry Avenue, Seattle, UCAS

AJA

[ Spoiler ]

Pushing her shades up on her head, A’ja’s forehead was hit by a cold drip of water. Looking up at the now clouded sky, it was obvious that rain would soon pour down upon Seattle’s streets. But something other than the heavy grey clouds held her attention. High above, going round and round in slow circles, flew what looked like a small blimp. Her vision enhanced cyber eyes confirmed what she thought it was: a surveillance drone.

On the sidewalk, some homeless guy was yelling toward the skies, his arm making big arcs and he waved them in the air.

“The ten horns are ten kings who shall rise from this kingdom. And another shall arise after them, he shall be different from the first ones, and shall subdue three kings!”

Crossing the street the street and dodging around the cars that cruised by, A’ja approached The Sports Bar. Three men are standing outside, shielding themselves from the light rain in the bar’s doorway. Two of them are talking and smoking, while the third one seems to be watching the street. He gave A’ja a small nod and a smile as he watches the elf fixer walking in their direction… as if he knew who she was. One of the two smokers reached out for the door, opening the way for A’ja, and slightly bowing as she thanked him. While doing so, he also permitted A’ja to notice two things: the Ares Predator in his shoulder holster, and the transceiver clipped to his belt. These three guys weren’t corporate suits taking getting a smoke; they were soldatos guarding the door.

The elven waitress behind the little reception stand smiled broadly at A’ja as she entered, showing a set of perfect white teeth..

“Welcome to the Sport Bar.” She said in a slightly high-pitched voice.

“I’m really sorry, but we’re currently full. If you’d like to wait at the bar, I have a few tables who should be ready in a few minutes.”

A’ja thanked her and headed for the bar. Crossing the room, she rapidly spotted the hacker called Dual already sitting at the bar, a half finished drink next to him.

THE Sports Bar was divided in two large rooms. Each room is usually reserved for one sporting event in particular, but strangely, the giant trid screens are showing both a boxing match and a baseball game. Contrary to the almost deserted bar, the main floor is packed at fully capacity. Even near dinner time, such a crowd is a bit surprising. Patrons are a mix of corporate suits, a few construction workers here and there, and numerous families. Metatypes are like ethnicities; extremely diverse. It’s as if a sampling of sports fan from every origin, up bringing, race and social class was taken and packed into the large room. A giant AR scoreboard hovering above the room, tracking scores for dozen of different sports/teams in over 20 different countries.

The doors connecting to the other section of THE Sports bar are all closed, with what seems like paper covering the plastic windows in them. An AR sign hovers in front of each door; it’s yellow translucent letters slowly revolving on a central axis. “Section Closed for Renovations”.

Next to one of the closed doors sits a tall and large human, on a tipped back wooden chair, reading a screemsheet. Strangely, he’s paying no attention what so ever to the game in progress.

As she approached the bar, A’ja also spotted the rest of the Mafia’s security. One man sitting alone in a booth, and another one a few seats off Dual, leaning against the bar. Rumours were true; the mafia was beefing up it’s security. And these guys weren’t young street gangers, but heaving mafia hitters. Probably made-men.