Up from the Bottom, Wipe Those Tears and Pass the Ammo Options

[adamu]

Dig Site 87RT67IU90
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:00

Indeed she could. After tearing into the hapless rent-a-cop (was there any other kind, anymore?) for another few seconds, she quickly caught up with the heavily-burdened troll.

From there it was the cake-walk it was supposed to be from the start - at least for a group with their various and several skills.

Lesson from the Shadows: you could never count on anything going smoothly.

Soon, their two vehicles were approaching the second site, as some of the more industrious among them reviewed the images captured earlier by the scouts of the school, the fence around it, the construction site.

[pragma]

Dig Site 87RT67IU90
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:03
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Pulling off from the dig site, Fortunato silently celebrated. The astral man in the snakeskin suit was still crouched in the back of his mind hissing calming assurances. As the van pulled off, Fort said "I'm going back to make sure I'm cleaned up. I imagine that Angel is too. I'll catch up with the van in just a minute.

He summoned a watcher to make sure that he knew the way back. Then thoroughly scrubbed his signatures off the site. He caught up with the van at a red light. The streetlight and a flashing neon sign advertising noodles painted Angel's unconscious face red as the vehicle idled. Her head rolled further into the lush cushioning of the former rigger's seat as she exhaled gently. Fortunato reached across the console and set her arm in her lap.

She doesn't deserve this.

And yet she was going to deserve it again as she tried to hack the concrete cutter. She'd be linked to another felony, maybe more before the night was out.

He sighed deeply then dozed, waking as the truck pulled up near a large construction site with iron girders poking through the graveyard shift mist.

[BlackHat]

En Route to Site 2
Saturday 8/23/70 02:49:03
Smith
PAN - Hidden

As the team was pulling away from the site, Angel gave an update, and the team received an ARO location, from Smith, in response. The ARO linked to an address in a nearby residential district, but as the Love Machine approached, cautiously, a few well-lit windows and some signs drew their attention to some converted houses that were now serving double-duty as storefronts. In the van's headlights, it became obvious that one was used for some sort of gourmet food outlet, and the other was some sort of antique shop. Despite being almost three in the morning, the food-outlet appeared to still be active.

In the well-lit windows, a dozen or so people could be made out, mingling around, talking, laughing, and eating. Food was being served, it seemed, and a number of people had wine-glasses in their hands. Music (of the upscale variety) could be heard as the door opened, when Smith exited. He seemed caught in the doorway for a moment, talking to someone. He held a hand up towards the street, as if to signal to anyone who might be watching that he would only be a moment. Rather than his briefcases, he had a box of some sort tucked under one arm.

Smith darted across the street to the Love Machine, and came up on the passenger door. When the rear door slid open, he seemed disappointed, but climbed in the back. He smiled when he saw the radar machine, but was clearly cramped. He leaned forward between the passenger and driver's seats, "Thanks for the lift, guys. I brought some food." He handed the box, to Fortunato. "Save some for the others," he added, smiling.

The van then exited the neighborhood and met up with the truck again, before resuming its route towards the construction site. On the way, Smith asked, "Everything check out okay at Site One?" He assumed he would have been alerted if shit had hit the fan, and he was resting one leg on the radar, so he knew they had succeeded.

[BlackHat]

En Route to Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:05:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

The second site went so smoothly that Smith almost missed it. The van didn't even get within eye-sight of the construction-site, so he had to go by the occasional matrix-message to assess their progress. Angel had absolutely no trouble with the drone - and Sledge had no trouble maneuvering the thing onto the truck. A few precautions later, and the team was pulling away. Smith would have been bothered by the whole thing seeming too easy, except that he had intentionally planned to be hands-off - and didn't expect to hear about the usual hiccups.

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Once he got news that the mission was a success, Smith directed the team to the garage address he had been given. Security there looked light, but Smith wasn't going to take his chances. Their caravan was met at the gate by a man who introduced himself in the way Eddie had explained that he would - and Smith did the same. After a tense second, the two laughed and exchanged a less formal handshake where cash was exchanged. The team was directed to one of a half-dozen large metal roll-up doors, and Smith was given access codes, which he forwarded to the rest of the team.

While the truck was being carefully maneuvered into its super-size coffin-motel, Smith was outside chatting with Eddie's friends. He seemed to be listening to some music, while they waited for his reaction, then, when he seemed into it, there was another outburst of positive reactions from the guys standing around. The display wasn't particularly professional, but Smith certainly seemed to be building a fast rapport with the guys who would be keeping an eye on their mission-critical gear overnight.

By the time everything was settled away, Smith had returned to the group. "Ready to call it a night?"

[pragma]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:03
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Passive (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato said "Yeah, I think we're done here. I've got to run, message me with where we're meeting tomorrow." He summoned a cab and returned several blocks from him home. He reflected that he was using an alarmingly traceable form of transportation on his walk home, then fell into a deep sleep."

Fortunato's Doss
Saturday 8/23/70 09:45:03

Fortunato munched contemplatively on a bowl of cereal. He stood in the corner taking slow, deliberate bites, ignoring the drops of milk that spilled on his battered dresser's top. He was stalling. The musky basket of goods from the talismonger was wedged next to the foot of his small bed and every time the mage ... or was it shaman now ... glanced at it his breathing slowed and he took another very careful bite of his meal.

Eventually he ran out of breakfast and shut the windows, sealing the shades tight in front of them. He opened the basket and withdrew a wooden whistle. Then he pulled the cover off of the small cage containing the canary he purchased and scraped the down and bird shit from the trap at the bottom of the cage, putting it into a somewhat ornate bowl also produced from the basket. The yellow creature loudly squawked its hunger and discomfort. Fortunato grimly covered it up, hoping the bird would shut up again. It would be free enough in a short period of time.

He glanced around the apartment -- the six square feet of space between the door, the bed and the dresser would have to do. He set out candles and lit them, then started blowing blowing gently on the whistle. As the candles burned, he pinched a little of the bird shit into each of them. The room acquired a tangy, acrid stink as the simple ritual was repeated over the hours. The hollow rush of air over the whistle left an oddly perpetual ringing sound in the room and the air clouded so thickly that Fortunato's eyes began to water and his nose began to run.

He balked at the next part of his task. When he was in high school, he'd been dared by two of his friends in thaumaturgy class to bind a spirit. They'd scraped together supplies by pinching them from the chemistry lab and buying household supplies then "purifying" them. It had been an epic undertaking, half a year's work. But when it came time to step into the circle, everyone balked. There was a deafening silence as the trio of fourteen year olds, hands sweaty with anticipation of their crime, stared at the crude ritual circle drawn into the floor with Bleach and surrounded by kerosene candles. Their eyes watered then too. The young Fortunato set his jaw. "I'll do it. We're not pussying out on the last 3 months. Let's have a story to tell." He'd begun to chant as he'd been taught, holding a vacuum cleaner head in one hand and a candle in the other. There was a stunning rush of wind as the spirit surged through the ground and knocked him over.

What business do you have with me child

I just want your service

You have my attention

Fortunato had felt very foolish thinking the vacuum was a suitable symbol of air's entrapment.

Enter this object for me.

Leave me be you maggot.

There was a crushing pressure inside of his chest and something forced it's way past his eyes and nose. He tried to yell. He writhed for nearly 30 seconds before passing out. He woke up in a hospital and hadn't bound a spirit since.

But now was the time to try it. The CIA had always had better mages around, that wasn't why he was employed by them. Here though, he was on his own in a way he'd never been -- no support, no backup, no political to call in if the op went south. He needed these spirits.

He didn't chant this time. He summoned spirits with his will alone now. Slowly the burning air wrapped itself into a vortex he recognized. The thin, whirling tornado with burning eyes in its center snaked around the perimeter of the candles, looking in at the shaman. He blew on the whistle again, an alarmingly low note came out.

Spirit, you are compelled to serve me. I command you to enter this whistle and make it blow.

As you ask.

The low, resonant note continued and gathered in intensity. Fortunato took a deep breath then clamped his mouth over the mouthpiece. His right thumb, previously cradling the whistle, was jammed over the thipple and his left hand pinched his nose. His face twisted itself like a towel being wrung out and the whistle started shaking erratically. He held on ferociously, his right hand tightening and the wooden instrument bowing and protesting under the pressure. Finally, a hiss of air leaked under his thumb and the whistle shattered an instant later. When he opened his eyes, the spirit was gone and there was an insistent knocking on the door.

"Lease say no smoking in room and no loud noises!"

Fortunato lay on the floor, puffed his cheeks and blew a long, regretful exhalation through his splinter filled mouth before taming his landlady.

Saturday 8/23/70 14:10:11

The canary had been getting increasingly agitated all morning. It was fluttering wildly around the cage when Fortunato set it in the center of his makeshift ritual area and squatted next to it. His mouth burned maddeningly from the scratches, but he was driven by need. If killing Louie Finnegan had been any indication, he desperately needed as much spirit support as he could get. He set his jaw, the morning's failure was a setback, not a defeat.

He slowly and carefully shredded a piced of snake skin as the bird kept up its twittereing. The flaky, scaly strips were scattered, almost carelessly on the ground. The contents of the basket had been emptied onto the floor next to the dresser. Fortunato pulled a single preserved snake eye, cloudy from its moult, from the heap of magical trinkets and crushed it in one hand while he focused. The basket was held in his other hand.

The dark room made a curious creaking sound for a moment then there was a sound of rending metal, a terrified bird scream and silence as a snake manifested and crushed the birdcage with its jaws. Seizing the moment, Fortunato swung the basket in a wide arc, aiming for the snake's head. It swooped close, but the monster had eaten quickly, it's alien eyes reflected the basket for a moment before it launched through its intended wicker prison, shattering it. The monster wheeled, hissing at the mage and battered him to the floor. It's jaws opened wide and two fangs snapped into place, its hood opened wide and its eyes blazed.

A moment of panic seized the unflappable mage, the same thing was happening again, why did this happen every time? There was no one to take him to the hospital now. Why even bother.

The tiny garter snake next to his head said The circle that killed her is only half known. You'll have no revenge with skin torn from bone.

A surge of power coursed through him and mana was sprayed at the beast before him. The snake hissed and wheeled and vanished in a puff of scales.

Saturday 8/23/70 17:02:30

The day had been draining. So much so that he hadn't cleaned the mess of snake skin, wax, pus, blood and bird feathers from his entry way.

After the binding attempts failed Fortunato had slept fitfully, tortured by dreams of drowning in air and being eaten alive. He'd attempted to summon some rudimentary backup for the run in the evening, gunning for a big spirit to test the powers he knew he had, but had failed to call forth the shining serpent he had summoned so often.

He'd hoped for another brief nap and success in conjuring some meager backup, but Johnson called while he was frittering away time, clearing his head and mentally preparing himself to spend almost a full six hours in astral. He didn't much like projecting -- it wasn't his specialty. He could cast a few spells and summon some spirits, but hurling himself into the unknown or making spirits slaves against their wills were things he was uncomfortable with. It was just like tradecraft, he could be a spy with a multimillion dollar agency behind him, but not on his own. It was just like being a husband and a father, he could protect his family until a threat came along. Now he had nothing.

Nothing but the snake on his windowsill. It only spoke in cryptic rhymes, but he found it calming. He was venting his frustration to it while it silently gazed at him and tasted the air. Eventaully it replied.

"Your framework is the falsehood here,
A spirit you have yet to tame
Repeted game repeated fears
To name the crux, its all the same."

"I appreciate your support. Your understanding is really comforting, snake." Fortunato sighed, even the snakes were mocking him.

He laid on his bed, ready to project to the rendezvous.

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:35:30

Fort was the first to slip out, off to work his magic with all those expensive baskets and birds Smith had forked out for.

With no place else safe to go, Rocky and Sledge appeared to be preparing to camp out here with the vehicles. Somehow, nothing about that struck Smith as particularly wrong, but when he saw Caittie casting about the place with a lost look it suddenly crashed home to him how out of place the cute little elf girl was. Even with her nemesis Cerberus having split, and all the other team members having gone out of their way to take the orphaned girl under their wing, she just didn't belong in some underworld-owned shed crashing in the seat of a van she'd killed someone for. It was obvious she was struggling with something. Her expression was hard to read, even for people-guy Adam, maybe a war between fatigue that told her just to give in and bed down here, or that feisty spirit that had always sent her off on her own between bouts of action.

As if to confirm his concerns, she shuffled up to him. Not meeting his gaze, she said, "So this job, it's for good guys, right? And just in and out. No killing this time, right?"

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam gave her a reassuring look, and motioned for her to come sit down by him and talk for a while. He didn't intend to spend the night here. This wasn't the sort of scene he thought he fit in, either, and, more importantly, he had somewhere better to be. Rocky and Sledge presumably had their own places - although Rocky certainly wanted to avoid his. He wasn't sure Angel had anywhere else to go - he certainly wasn't in any real hurry, and he didn't want to leave Angel while she was upset.

Her question caught him off-guard. It still hadn't really sunk in, or didn't feel entirely real. If someone had told him that he had arranged and executed a murder recently, he probably wouldn't have believed them. He hadn't thought about the dead rigger, or the other guys who ambushed them, until just now. He didn't feel guilty about the fact that his team didn't let themselves be killed - but neither did he fully recognize the reality of how much death his new job brought with it.

He returned his attention to Angel. "That's the plan. Its different, this time. Our backs aren't up against the wall. We're not fighting for our lives. We're not forced into this. Well, not really, anyway." He pointed towards the other two with his chin, "I think Sledge might know more about who we're doing this for, and why - but you said their IDs checked out, and I met them online where they said they'd be, so I think it's legit." He shrugged. "And, if they can really help us all out of our respective jams, I think we can call them the good guys."

He could tell that although Angel was glad to hear him say it, he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. She still seemed preoccupied, and upset. Adam decided to try a different approach - less professional, more heart-to-heart. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder and said, "I know this has been hard on you. I don't think I can count the number of times you've already saved my life since we've met - and you've had to do some things, that nobody should ever have to do, to get it done. We all owe you a lot, already. I don't know where someone your age learned what you can do with a commlink, but you deserve better than to have to do it just to stay alive, every night. I know your life is all backwards, right now, and even if we get our reward - it can't put everything back the way it used to be, but... well... I'm here for you, if there is ever anything I can do."

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:20

"No," she answered, looking up shyly at the good-looking college guy, "You've already been great. You don't need to be doing anything else for me...actually, that's sort of the reason I've come this deep into things with you guys...I sort of figured I owed you, you know, for...for solving my Mob problem."

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:40
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam smiled, "Half of you had mob problems. The other half had unemployment problems. My job was to facilitate." He put his hands together, interlacing the fingers. "We all helped each other out. I'd say we're even, now." He looked back towards the truck. "This? This is something different. Well, I don't know what everyone else is going to ask for - I mean, for all I know, this is just another job for some of them." He then looked back at Angel. "I do know that very few people in our line of work would have taken this job. Far to risky, and too many connections with the sort of people we avoid at all costs. I figure, anyone interested, wants out, and needs help getting there. And, if that's the case, I figure it is still my job to facilitate." He smirked, then looked confused.

"So, wait. If the reason you're here is to thank us, and not because you need Their help..." He paused for a second. "What are planning to ask for? I mean, if you don't mind saying."

[JDragon]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:30:13
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

The drive out to the garage, while tiring and a little nerve wracking had actually almost been fun for Rocky, once he had gotten used to how the truck handled with the beast that was the concrete saw strapped to it he had relaxed some and gone with the flow. He didn't stress his speed and kept his eyes and ears open for any signs of the star or knights looking for them.

Now parking the truck in the garage was a challenge to be sure and when he was done the passenger rear view mirror was hanging at an odd angle from clipping the side of the building.

Once the truck was parked, he dug up a few wooden blocks to help make sure it didn't roll around while they were sleeping. With is safely secured he took the chance to grab some food and one of the mats from the back of the van.

Not seeing anywhere better he laid the mat out on the little bit of the flatbed not taken by the saw. He used his duffel bag as a pillow and set his pistol with in easy reach, just in case something came up during the night, what was left of it. It occurred to him less than a month ago he would not have worried about that kind of thing when he was getting ready to go bed for the night.

Saturday 8/23/70 03:36:43

He could hear Smith and Angel talking about the situation the individuals of the team were in and did not want to interrupt as he knew he would never be able to talk as smoothly as Smith could.

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:00

The girl shrugged. "The thing is, I can't ask them for anything. It's complicated. Don't get me wrong - I've actually checked them out a little more since we took the job. They really are honest cops. But something one of them said to me. They mean well, but they're not safe. I think even doing this job, I can't take their favor. And then that got me thinking..."

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:05
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith seemed interested to hear more about their benefactors. He raised an eyebrow, and waited for Angel to go on.

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:20

"It's just...it's just that they told me some things...things I guess I already knew, but they just made it more clear for me. Sort of laid things out. Things that helped me understand that Louie may have been the least of my problems. I can't really say more than that - just that I need to keep a low profile. Really low. I mean, I know this stuff you do, it's all about staying under radar, but I don't think that's enough for me, I mean, while under the radar you're going around doing...things...that would put you on the radar. Oh man, I know I'm not making any sense. I just think...I think I need to leave."

She looked down and studied her feet.

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:45
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Adam nodded, "I get it. I mean, part of my job is advertising that we're out there to find us more work. If you're still on somebody's radar - I can see how that would be a problem." He paused for a moment, thinking about a few different approaches. "Is this 'problem' of yours something 'solvable', like the situation with Louie? Maybe not the same way, but, I mean, could a group of Runners with nothing better to do help you out of your jam?" He wasn't expecting her to agree, even if it was possible. Angel was already feeling like she owed the group more than she could repay - but, perhaps, by asking, Adam would get a clue as to what the issue was, and be able to come up with a way to help.

"In any case, would you be safer bailing out sooner, rather than later?"

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:30

When Smith finally got down to a direct question, it seemed to shake Caittie out of her roundabout explanation of things. "Sooner," she said. "Actually, if it helps at all...I've found someone that can maybe replace me. I mean, right away." The last bit out in a nervous rush.

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith nodded as it became more and more clear that Angel wasn't looking for advice in making this decision, but, rather, looking for a polite way to put in her resignation. A two-week notice would have been ideal, but this was already a lot more respectful than Cerberus's dine-and-dash mid-mission. At least, this time, Smith wasn't hearing about it second-hand. Smith didn't really want her to go, but had expected her to leave after the mission, anyway. He had to respect the fact that she at least came to him about it, personally. She also wasn't running off with any gear - as far as he could tell.

"Its your call, Angel. If you wanna stick it out, through tomorrow, I think you'll be spending the whole mission in the van, in VR. It should be relatively safe and anonymous work, and even if all you ask for is a new fake ID, it would probably help you on your way to whatever life you've got lined up for yourself. If you've got a replacement in mind, and a favor lined up to convince them to help out last minute, we can probably accommodate that - for you. You've already contributed a lot to this mission. I'll make sure they know that when we report in, in case you find you could use a hand, after all."

"The thing is," Smith made sure to put this delicately, so as not to belittle her attempt to make her exit less painful for the team. "I don't know your friend - and bringing on a stranger at the last minute strikes me as one of the biggest heist-movie cliches we could commit. Unnecessary risk is totally my style, but I don't think its going to fly with everyone else when their lives and futures are on the line. I sought you out, specifically, and my expectations for you were high. If I had wanted just any-old hacker, I know a few other people I could have brought on-board without wading through the spaghetti-storm surrounding you. I could still call some of them up, if it comes to that, but... we can talk about your friend in a minute."

He kneeled down, and tried to catch her eyes in his. "Regardless, if you need to go... go. If you need a place to stay for a while, or you need someone to smooth something over for you, or if you need anything at all... you've got my number. Just because its too risky to work for me, that doesn't mean we can't stay friends. I'm sure a smart girl like you will find an anonymous way to keep in touch."

He then stood up, and resumed his previous casual stance. "Now, tell me about this replacement you've got lined up. I figure, you know a lot more than I do when it comes to this sort of thing - so your recommendation is going to go a long way. See if you can't improve my confidence a little bit, though. Is this person online right now? Maybe the two of you have time for a little test-drive tonight, so I can see what I'll be relying on, tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "First, though, I want to hear your opinion."

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:37:43

"Well, actually," Caittie started to answer, realizing her plan may not be as well thought out as she'd imagined, "I don't actually know this person. I've never talked to him or met him, so I don't know what sort of opinion I can give....But he has REALLY good references, er, reference. My, um, my teacher, the one who first helped me survive on the streets, and who taught me about my, I mean, how to use the matrix, she suggested this guy. She said he is really skilled in this sort of thing, I mean, the stuff I've been doing. She says he's really much better at it than I am, and that he does this sort of thing regularly. He's supposed to be a pro, not just some kid who fell into it."

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith looked unconvinced. "So, you don't know him, either... and I don't really know your teacher." His blank stare became something of a smirk. "But, I suppose she knows him, and your opinion of her should count for something." He shook his head a little. "The thing is, for all either of us knows, this guy might be a wiz hacker, but completely unreliable - or worse, he might bring some trouble with him, or have ties to people we're still trying to avoid. He might be a lone-wolf, and have problems working with a team, and he certainly doesn't owe us anything. If things go bad, real bad, I feel like I could count on you, or on anyone else in the team, to risk their lives to save mine - knowing I'll do the same for you, and that we're all in the same boat, together. There's no way I can say that about this guy who's twice-removed from the team I scouted. The people backing this mission probably feel the same way, as they came to us, specifically."

He raised an eyebrow while he let Angel think about that a little bit, then he continued. "Even if your teacher thinks she knows him pretty well, and you think you know her pretty well, and I think I know you, well, I know you well enough - I can't actually say that I know anything about this guy other than that someone told you that he's good... and that he's willing to take on a job like this, last-minute. If he's a professional, he should be as worried about this as I am."

His smirk grew into a full smile. "I've got an idea. First, give me what info you have on this guy - his name, and how I'm supposed to contact him. I'll run a quick background check on my end. Again, if he's a professional, and he's good, he should have a rep. I know a few local hackers. If nobody has heard of him, or they have, and have nothing good to say - I'll probably pass - at least for this weekend. If he doesn't have a rep, its because he hasn't done anything worth remembering - and if his rep is bad, well, that just means someone remembers something he did that I should know about. Either way, stuff I need to know, if we're making a late-game switch."

"I'd like you to spend an hour or so, tonight, seeing what you can dig up on this guy, on your end. I mean, I know he's supposedly hot-shit, but if that is the only thing I am going to find out about him, there isn't much separating him from all the other hot-shit-hackers out there, looking for work. I need to know something about this guy before I can trust him - I need to know he's a real person, ya know? Who is he? What makes him tick? Why is he doing this sort of work? If you can dig up information on him, as easily as you did on me, that shouldn't take long. Otherwise, talk to your teacher. She might be able to give you some of that information, but I'd be interested to see what you can discover, yourself. Don't bother asking him, directly, I'll meet with him later, and get a feel for him - I just want some facts to go in that conversation with. Get it?"

"Once I've made sure he's not blacklisted, and have gotten a feel for just how professional this guy is, and you've put together a quick dossier on him - then I'd like to set up a meeting, online. Tonight, if possible. If this is going to happen, its going to have to happen fast, and I'm going to have to have something solid to go on if I'm going to convince the rest of the team that this is a good idea and not a disaster waiting to happen." Smith could imagine Sledge's expression already. The two of them had already had more than their fair share of problems with unreliable hackers.

He smiled again. "Either way, it sounds like you need to leave, tonight. As long as you've got someplace to go, that's fine - we'll cope. I appreciate your help finding a replacement, and I hope this works out, and that he's as good as you say he is, but I don't want you to feel any pressure to stay. We can get through this weekend, one way or another - and I'll look up this friend of yours, eventually, even if tonight turns out to be too risky."

"So, does that sound doable?" He seemed to have more to say on the subject, but waited to see Angel's initial reaction, first.

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:30

Caittie blushed. "Actually, I already did a search on him. A good search. I knew you'd ask for it." She stopped, but all Smith did was look at her expectantly. "Well, ummm, I'm pretty sure I found him - at least I think it was him. If it is, he's on the matrix a lot. But his icon keeps changing. I only think it's him cuz I could trace the commcode I had to reach him with to that icon - but I gotta tell you, that was not an easy thing. But I also knew you wouldn't want me to contact him myself - knew you'd wanna do the honors, so I don't think he saw me."

She paused to take a breath, but the young Johnson was still looking at her with eyebrows raised in question. "But, umm, I didn't find any, umm, any information about him. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Now, I know you just got done saying that means he's no good, but in my, umm, professional opinion, that means he's exactly the guy you want." She shrugged. "Doesn't mean he doesn't have a rep in the meat world, though."

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:40
Smith
PAN - Hidden

It didn't worry Smith that Angel came up with nothing. That just meant, he would be going into this with about the same amount of information than he had on Sledge when he first worked with her. Of course, that first job was exactly the sort of disaster he was hoping to avoid. Fortunato was a better example. Smith didn't know much more about him, than that he could cast spells, and Franco suggested he use him. So far, that had worked out well, and Smith didn't know a thing about the man, outside of work.

Smtih nodded. "That was what I was thinking. If nobody else has ever heard of him, that's bad. If his personal data isn't within easy reach, online, I think you're right. That's god." He thought about this for a moment. "Okay, what's this guy's name, handle, alias, whatever? Also, think you could find him again? Maybe, go online with me, and introduce us?" Smith was already tossing some ideas around about just what exactly he would say to this person when he met him. He didn't know anything about him, so it would be tough to guess how to approach the situation - but he was starting to learn things about him. For one, he covers his ass. That's good, in the long run, but if he plans to keep his cards close to his chest, Smith knew that it was going to be difficult to get close enough to him to be able to trust him. That gave him a couple more ideas.

[adamu]

Eddie's Safe-Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:39:50

"My, uh, my contact gave me a little more to help us decide about this guy," Caittie volunteered. "I think she really wants you to work with him, so she gave me some names of people that have, umm, worked with him. Some people call him Error, or 1406, or both I guess, so I think that's what you should ask these people about."

She flashed Smith an AR list of names.
VRX, with a commcode.
Rigger Mortys, another commcode.
Man o' War, leave a note at milepost 27 in Fort Lewis.

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 03:40:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

"Rigger Mortis," Smith sniggered, shaking his head slightly. "Okay, these will help. Should I take the lack of contact info for your teacher to mean she'd rather stay out of it? If these guys ask, where should I say I got their information?" Smith wasn't sure if there would be much point in talking to Angel's tutor, since he already knew she thought highly of this Error guy, but it never hurt to make new contacts - especially ones who wanted you to do something.

"And, did you have any interest in meeting this Error guy when I do?" He looked around, a little. "I mean, if you'd like to get a head start on wherever you're going - that's cool - otherwise, I'd be interested to get your first-impression, too." The truth was, Smith would feel a lot better about meeting a hacker online, if he had one of his own, watching his back. He thought that if he phrased it that way, though, Angel might feel obligated to stay, even if she needed to go.

The moment the question had left his lips, his hands began flicking in AR - dialing the second of the commcodes he was given. Hopefully, Rigger Mortys worked late on the weekends.

[BlackHat]

Eddie's Garage
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:00
Smith
PAN - Hidden

The first call went by relatively quickly. Smith quickly got the impression that Rigger Mortys wasn't going to tell him much about Error, other than that she considers him a skilled professional. She wasn't as concerned about how Smith got her commcode, or why he was asking, as he expected her to be. The professional attitude was appreciated, but Smith was slightly concerned that he still didn't know much more about Error than that some strangers say he's good - but he got the impression that she knew more, she just wasn't saying. The call didn't take very long, so Smith spent a few more minutes attempting to socialize with Rigger Mortys, with mixed success. As soon as he had given up on getting information about Error, it was clear that all other topics were wasting both people's time. After a few minutes, he left, on a high note, and left his contact info behind, in case Rigger Mortys needed work, or needed people to do some work.

The second call didn't go much differently than the first, although VMX was a lot less hospitable, and much less interested in chatting. It started to become quite clear that Error had left a good impression on both people, but that both people were either identically paranoid about saying much else about him - or were both aware of Error's preference. The latter was much more likely, Smith felt. It also meant that contacting Man o' War tonight would be a waste of his time. It would take a while to make the drop, and he would have no idea when he would hear back from him. Man o' War also seemed like the kind of guy who would keep details to himself, whether Error cared or not.

Luckily, Angel did have a contact commcode for Error, and was willing to tag along - but wanted the meet to happen quickly. Smith didn't see any reason to put it off. Both references seemed to think highly of Error, and it was clear that he wasn't going to get any more information about him without going to the source. Smith sent a quick message to the team saying he was heading out for the night - but would be back tomorrow - and suggested that Angel do the same, especially if she wasn't planning to return.

Since they were both planning on heading out, anyway, Smith and Angel started by catching a cab to the bus-station. The buses ran late, but not often - luckily, they arrived just minutes before a bus was set to leave. Still, they afforded them an opportunity to pass out in a seat for a while, and remain constantly on the move. At the very least, he didn't want to accidentally draw attention to the location of the stolen gear. Once on the move, they rebooted and spoofed their accessIDs - going through the usual rituals that they both went through before undertaking hacker-work. Smith wasn't nearly as thorough, but was counting on Angel to fill in the holes he was leaving.

Smith was content to use AR, which let him keep an eye on the real-world, too. Angel preferred VR, and would be a lot more useful there, anyway. They finally picked out a public node they believed to be relatively secure. Chances are, his commcode's upgraded firewall was a little better, but he thought it would be better to offer to meet at some neutral location, first. Angel was instructed to be on the lookout for anything "naughty" going on. Smith suggested she remain in the background, watching Smith's back - but if she felt like participating in the discussion, she was welcome to. This was her opportunity to meet her replacement, but Smith doubted she cared, since she was planning to leave all of this behind.

A couple of moments later, they were both as prepared as they would ever be, and Smith constructed the message:

<<@Error:: You've been referred to me for a last-minute job, and your references check out. If you're online, and not busy, I'd like to meet with you and ask you a few questions. >>

Attached was a link to the node he and Angel were already on.

[Divine Virus]

An Upscale Hotel
Saturday 8/23/70 04:00:05
ERROR 1406
PAN - Hidden

It took forty-five seconds for ERROR 1406 to become aware of a message left for him at his dropbox commcode. Why this eternity of digital time?
First the message was immediately censored. The word ERROR, the number 1406, any of ERROR's other aliases, any reference to anywhere ERROR has stayed in the past 6 months...all deleted and corrupted. Other keywords are substituted. "Johnson" becomes "pomegranate." "Matrix run" becomes "echidna." "Job" becomes "skoptsy." Other words he just made sound slightly pornography. People are always willing to believe it is just kinky smut. These are all words with unusual letter combination. It makes breaking an encryption much harder, and, even if the code is broken, makes the message inadmissible in a court of law. No one went to jail for doing a dehisce for Pomegranate. It is then encrypted and forwarded to thirteen different commcodes, eleven of which automatically corrupted the message beyond all hope of recovery. The twelfth commcode was a disposable commcode under a false name, in truth run by a privacy company. In a hard drive that never had been, and never will be, connected to the matrix is a list of serial numbers and encryption keys. Customer has his own serial number, and a list of randomly generated encryption keys, a different key for every minute. When the message is received, the serial number for that client is encrypted on the offline hardrive is encrypted with the matching key for that minute and hand typed onto an online computer, which then posts the encrypted message and separately encrypted serial number on one of thousands of nodes whose only name is a string of truly random characters. Meanwhile, a searchbot, hired from an independent company who knows nothing of any of the other parties involved. Once every thirty seconds, it runs a full search through a complete set of all possible nodes looking for two possible strings of forty-three letters. The exact string it is searching for is the encrypted serial number for the current minute, and the previous minute. If it finds the string, it copies it, and any following characters, pastes the text into a message, encrypts it again, and sends it to yet another comcode. This commcode is pretty standard-for a drek-hot cracker like ERROR 1406. Usual tricks for making it nigh untraceable, etc.
When the message reaches this commcode, ERROR is notified. So he decrypts it first using the key provided by the search bot. Then he removes the first forty-three letters (this being the serial number). Then he decrypts the message itself with the final key to get something that looks like this.

<<@ :: You've been referred to me for a last-minute skoptsy, and your references check out. If you're ximelolagnic, and not busy, I'd like to taste you and ask you a few questions. >>

A touch of blind panic touched ERROR 1406 at the words "Referred," "References," and "Check-out." It was the usual panic. Wrenching of gut. But he was used to the feeling by now, and the internal flinch barely registered on his face. On his left hand, he drummed out binary equations. The pinky finger had a value of one. The ring finger has a value of two. The middle finger has a value of four, the index eight, and the thumb a value of sixteen. a raised finger was a zero, and one resting on a surface represented one. He could only represent values of up thirty-one on his left hand using this method, and cannot even represent a single byte of data (only five bits, and eight are needed for a byte). But the excorizes had little to do actual computation, and more with A) rebuilding control of his left hand, and B) providing a clear link to his body so he doesn't get lost in Matrix. Tying the binary to the material world... integrating the two into one totality, as it should be.
Back to the task at hand.
ERROR sunk into full immersion, and ceased to exist. Or, to put it in a bit less melodramatic manner, he became empty, in the Buddhist sense of the word. He existed in such a state for a moment, his mind, pure binary on the matrix. An algorithm. Source code, clinging to a fragment of intent. When any element self of surfaces he is already in the appointed node. a slight midnight oil slick of resonance on the ocean of code. He saw them there. Little differentiations. Relevant? Maybe. Further investigation. Ah. Icons. Icons were a function in the matrix. A function he could not yet relate to. A bit further into his self again.

ERROR 1406 was never good at icons. So he based his on a fractal representation of the architecture of the node. Millions of interlocking three-dimension microcosms extending outwards in a vaguely humanoid form with indistinct boundaries.

ERROR 1406 liked fractals. He often relied on them for graphic representations.

Speaking of fractal graphic representations.

Wracking his brain for an appropriate metaphor, ERROR made a hasty decision and offered two small keys made of static to the two icons.
"Encryption" he said. Then he said something else, but is came out as high frequency static.