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

[JDragon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Friday 8/22/70 13:46:41
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

As he sat on the couch Rocky saw the messages start coming through from Cerberus and Johnson. Talking more to him self than anything, "Well I guess that answers that question. So it looks like the Feds from the gas station found Cerb while he was out running around."

He then sent a quick message out so everyone knew where he was. <<TEXT@Team: Holding down the fort and ready for a party as always.>>

[pragma]

Truck Stop on the Monroe Highway
Friday 8/22/70 13:46:50
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato came back from washing his hands after his second lunch break and dried his hands on his temporary pants. He saw Rocky typing away at him commlink and noticed a message arriving on hi s own. He looked with horror at the growing exchange of messages.

<<@Team: Do not come back to home base. If whatever suits you're talking about could find you, they can probably follow you. Crossing our fingers and assuming comms aren't compromised (anything those of you in the know can do about that?) Lets meet here. [Map ARO appended]>>

He'd picked a waffle house in Auburn. It was far away from everywhere they'd been known to operate ... except for Fortunato's apartment. On the up side, he knew from experience the waffles were edible.

[BlackHat]

On his Bike
Friday 8/22/70 13:47:20
Adam Lear - Mr. Smith
PAN - Hidden

Smith's voice sounded slightly distorted as his commlink attempted to compensate for the hum of vehicular movement in the background. <<@Team:: "Good idea. If anyone needs a lift, and doesn't mind riding on the back of my bike, let me know. Wasn't too worried about leading strays home, though. It won't be 'home' for much longer.... better safe than sorry, I suppose.">>

[Abbandon]

Few minutes from the truckstop
Friday 8/22/70 13:55:42
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - Active

<<Text@team: "These are the suits from the gas station, If they wanted us that badly they already would have grabbed us all, I dont think we need to worry about base. But if you guys decide we still need to meet somewhere else let me know and dont forget to bring my dufflebags!" >>

Cerberus consulted the ARO he was given against his commlinks map system but kept on heading back to the truck stop.

[pragma]

Truck Stop on the Monroe Highway
Friday 8/22/70 13:56:00
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato stood bolt upright with such force that his overly developed gut wobbled slightly under the transition. His eyes twitched left and right and he breathed raggedly at best. His mind sprinted through redundant ideas.

He needed to clean up this place, he needed to get out of this place, he needed to do something else. He couldn't be associated with this group. Goddamn it, the feds couldn't find him, Necrosis couldn't find him.

In his head he built up a ladder of connections pointing from these FBI agents back to the invisible hit squad sent to wipe Fortunato off the map. It was oddly calming.

He immediately grabbed his old, bloody clothes and the bedspread he'd slept on and stuffed them into the communal trash can, then took the bag with him. Trudging out of the lounge he muttered an incoherent explanation to Rocky about why it was necessary to empty the half full trash can and said he'd meet him at the Waffle House.

Alley Near the Waffle House
Friday 8/22/70 14:12:22

Fortunato checked the mouth of the alley one last time before he took a deep breath and started wrapping sheets of mana around himself. Still no witnesses and still no cameras to the best of his knowledge. Three seconds later he was a short heavyset human with close cut hair and business casual clothing. He wiped the signature he'd left and took a moment composing himself before heading to the waffle house to see who was there.

[DireRadiant]

On the Road
Friday 8/22/70 14:12:22
Sledge - Holding Pattern
PAN - Hidden

She was familiar with it. The first job done, going off shift, hanging together for a few soybrews, celebrating a job done. Relaxing. Then heading in for the next shift, and finding the last crew had left a mess to clean up, bloody bits of some poor girder monkey to sluice off because someone forgot to make sure they fired the bolts in right.

She needed to be there to ride the crew, keep them focused, but the best thing was going to be for her to stay away. Best for everyone. The situation was worse then brewing a tub of nitroglycerine in the hot summer sun.

<<@Team:: Party without me.>>

<<@Sugar Lips:: Didn't take me because the suits didn't want to die trying like the last ones. Let trog loose to tag me.>>

[JDragon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Friday 8/22/70 13:55:51
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky watched the messages go back and forth between different members of the team as this new meeting started to come together.

I guess I should get used to living this way. Fuck this sucks, oh well, gotta stay alive.

Before he could get him self moving and figure out how, he was getting to this meeting Fort grabbed a few things and was out the door.

Friday 8/22/70 13:58:02

Talking to the walls Rocky let out a sigh, "Well I guess I best find a ride. Fuck its going to be another one of those long days isn't it?"

Grabbing his comm he sent a quick text to Cerberus, <<Text@Cerberus: Hey Fort just took off, so I guess he's got his own ride. Can you pick me up? Thanks.>>

Hopeing a ride was secured Rocky spent the next few minutes packing up all the gear. he started with his own first, not that he had much at this point but it was his so he got it back in its duffle bag and ready to go. Once that was done he worked on the group gear that needed to go back in the van like the medkit and food supplies they had picked up. He finshed up with gathering up what was left of the rest of the groups supplies doing his best to get it back in the correct bags.

[BlackHat]

Downtown Locker
Friday 8/22/70 14:15:20
Smith - Running late
PAN - Hidden

Adam slammed his locker shut, after making hsi withdrawl. He was discrete, but a quick appraisal of its girth revealed that if Franco was trimming his wages, it wasn't by anything noticable. He had expected maybe half of what was there, considering the amount he was sure he now owed.

He had caught a message from Angel earlier, asking for a ride, but had since started letting the team-speak channel on his comm queue up. A private message from Sledge caught his attention, though, while he was on his way back to his bike. He cought up on what had been said before responding.

<<@Team:: "No worries. We'll fill you in, later. Want me to pick you up anything for dinner?">>

He then quickly added a private message to Sledge.

<<@Sledge:: "Wait. What? You killed one of them? Cerb's bait? I'm confused. Should I have the others bail until we get this sorted out?">>

A moment later, he continued, a little calmer.

<<@Sledge:: "Want me to find out what the 'message' is, and pass it along?">>

In a bit of a rush, after that, Adam headed back to his bike and got on the road towards the location Angel asked him to pick her up at. This deal was sounding worse by the minute, and if Sledge was a known cop-killer, this wasn't going to be easy to smooth over.

[DireRadiant]

On the Road
Friday 8/22/70 14:15:30
Sledge - Holding Pattern
PAN - Hidden

... intern ... corp speak ...

<<@Sugar Lips:: Last time we partied with them, you remember, they were unwilling to make the commitment to accomplish their goals. Anyone in the shelter of our vehicle, or able to move away fast enough, might have eluded the conflagration. Unfortunately several of our compatriots exposed themselves and consequently I personally had to take the actions that resulted in a standoff. Both parties subsequently chose to disengage from an inflammatory situation. From statements made at the scene it is clear they had interest in my person and did not have a conflict with our interests at that time. It is in the team's interest that I am not involved in this party.

tharon quaalz, quaalz vut zhakan.

Trog says they got biz, yerz . See if they want to meet without me there. rek glok>>

[Abbandon]

Truck stop on Snohomish Monroe Highway
Friday 8/22/70 14:08:24
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - Active

<<@rocky: "Sure no problem I'm almost there, start packing up.">>

A few minutes later and the Love Machine was back in the parking lot of the truck stop and backed into the space in front of room #6. Cerberus popped the doors and climbed. Rocky opened the door to the room and started carrying stuff to the van. After nodding at Rocky he proceeded to help him out. Cerberus was kind of mad abot not having some more downtime but if this is the way it had to be it was better o just go with it instead of fight it.

The room was empty in only a few trips and after making sure everything important had been picked up he was out the door. His ass was tore up from driving the stupid van manually so he hopped in the back this time to either let Rocky drive or use the autonav to get to the waffle house.

[BlackHat]

On the Road
Friday 8/22/70 14:16:00
Smith - Running late
PAN - Hidden

<<@Sledge:: "I remember we jumped the gun, and there was a standoff. From the van, I didn't exactly see what you did to defuse the situation, but I remember you handled it. Shit. They were there for you? Well, thanks for lookin' out, anyway.... I'll let you know what goes down - but if you think they're using Cerb to get another gander at you, chances are whatever they're offering is smoke and mirrors.">>

<<@Sledge:: "Assuming there is actually something to their message, should we just count you out until they're out of the picture? Or are you just trying to avoid face-time with them? Seems like... as long as they're looking for you... if they think we run with you... you know....">> Adam wasn't really sure how he wanted to end this last thought. It certainly wasn't his intention to talk her into an early retirement. <<@Sledge:: "It just seems like your options are pretty slim.">>

[Konsaki]

Northacres Park, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Friday 8/22/70 14:15:45
Caittie – Technomancer – Hidden
PAN – Passive

A shadowy figure moved through the trees of the park. As it closed on the next tree in its path, a shot rang out through the air, followed by the sound of splintering bark. The figure moved no faster in its pace to get behind the tree, even as more shots rang out, causing more wood and now dust from the ground to fly. Just as it was about to reach the standing pine, a round pierced the shadow, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks, leaving an outline with a bright red mark indicating where it was hit. A number floated up above the specter of the shadow, an easily identifiable ‘5 Points’.

A sigh escaped the girl in red’s lips as she saw the scene before her. A field of images similar to the last one littered the area, plus more than a few that just had a large red X over them. ‘Great… What is it going to tell me now?’, she asked herself as she saw the simulation fade out of existence to be replaced with a printout of stats. Shots Fired, Targets Hit, Achieved points out of the max total and penalty deductions floated in an open window in front of her, followed by a blatantly bright red ‘Poor’ final score.
Caittie let out a snort after seeing that, hand waving the window out of existence. “I’ve done this stupid level eleven times already! Gah! That’s it! I’m done!�, she exclaimed in frustration as she shut down the program.

Taking a deep breath, the elf walked over to a nearby tree to a bottle of water she had laid there earlier. As she settled down to sit in the shade the large birch provided, she found herself muttering under her breath, “Stupid game…� Reaching for the water, she knew that it was just frustration getting to her, a new harder level with moving targets. She couldn’t deny how it excited her, a little bit at least, to fire the digital gun at the targets, the sound, sights and force feedback as each round fired off.
Still, even on the stationary targets she barely passed the level on what seemed more like luck than anything else. The moving targets had her just constantly pulling the trigger just praying to hit something, and it painfully showed in the results. The bad thing was the fact the game was giving her tips on how to play better, breathing, stance and such, but she just couldn’t get a handle on it. One of the last ‘tips’ it gave her played sarcastically off her lips, “Practice, practice, practice…�

The elven lass had just twisted the cap off the bottle and brought it to her lips as something unexpected happened. A message from Cerberus had appeared in an open window, indicating that it had gone out to the entire team. She read a bit of it, but Caittie couldn’t concentrate on it as her mind was more wondering about how he even made contact to her. ‘I’m pretty sure I disconnected from the network…’, she assured herself as she took a couple sips of the cool water.
She thought about it for a few seconds before looking down to her hip, where her eyes beheld a sight that made the girl mentally facepalm. She quickly remembered that she had activated her older commlink earlier that day to play the Miracle Shooter game, since it was already installed on it. Since it was already offline when she left the team two days ago, the technomancer had forgotten to take it off the network too.

Closing up the now emptier bottle, the red haired female let out a sigh as she connected back to the team’s network with her ‘better’ commlink and re-read Cerberus’ message before turning the older commlink offline. As Caittie read it, more messages from the team started appearing in response. Putting the picture together, she replied to Johnson’s offer of a ride, “I could use one, since you’re offering. I’ll send you my location.�
From the human male’s response, she knew it would take a bit for him to get there, since he needed to stop somewhere first. It didn’t bother her, though, because she wasn’t in a hurry. She still had a lot of reading to catch up on, trying to scan over the extended history of her ‘lives’ that Rebecca had sent her earlier that day. It was a lot of info to remember, but she had spread the reading out to be a little at a time, to make it easier.
‘Someday I’ve got to ask her how she got these…’ the teenager mentally noted to herself as she scanned down over ‘Kitoria McCree’s’ history. ‘For now, though, I’m just happy to have them.’


Northacres Park, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Friday 8/22/70 14:28:44
Caittie – Technomancer – Hidden
PAN – ‘Kitoria McCree’ – Passive

Time passed as the girl in red sat on a shaded bench close to the designated pickup point. There was a slight up and down beat to the booted foot that hung suspended off the ground due to her crossed legs, matching the beat of a japanese techno-jazz matrix-cast she had connected to. Her head nodded with the beat in slightly the same way, though to a less noticeable extent as she was keeping an eye out for a particular motorcycle to show up nearby.
Boredom won over keeping an active lookout and the girl found herself reading the karaoke lyrics to the song slightly out loud. Time continued to pass as she very lightly sang out, “…genjitsu tokashite samayou. Aitai kimochi ni riyuu wa nai, anata e afuredasu Lovin' you!�

During the pause between what she had sang and the next verse to the song, she lost her timing completely as a friendly voice spoke up from beside her. “Ah, heavenly sounds coming from the ‘Angel’ in red.�, said the recognizable voice as Caittie quickly looked up and over to see Johnson standing there next to the bench she was sitting on. He could easily see that the comment had completely caught the technomancer off guard, the raging flush across her face telling all.
The human wore a matching button shirt and slacks, a more casual look than his business suit, but still presented himself in a professional manner. In the breeze, the elven girl could smell the light sent of some good cologne wafting from the man. Looking him over in those few bashful seconds, she tried to compose herself.
Trying to force a wry smile instead of a sheepish bashful one, Caittie replied in a way to try and force a change in the topic from herself. “So, um… Decided on something between a sweatshirt and a suit, huh?�, she commented as she stood. “You, um… It looks good... um, suits you.�, she finished as she mentally smacked herself for her failure of not paying attention along with the verbal stumbling.

[DireRadiant]

On the Road
Friday 8/22/70 14:16:10
Sledge - Holding Pattern
PAN - Hidden

<<@Sugar Lips:: Tell em Trog tried play medic after junkyard, stopped the blood but forget to keep me breathing. Suits will know the Trog got something personal with this tusker. Fed tusker to the ghoulies for a favor. See if that works. Take temporary vacation, take care personal biz. Hook up later you still alive.>>

... you'd think with bigger brains they'd be smarter, that one probably thinks muscles work just as well as brains....

[BlackHat]

On the Road
Friday 8/22/70 14:17:00
Smith - Running late
PAN - Hidden

<<@Sledge:: "That ruse will work better if you let everyone in on it. You just sent one message to everyone, so sending one more won't be any more conspicuous. I'll do my best to make sure the suits buy it, though - when and if I see them.">>

Northacres Park, Northgate, Downtown Seattle
Friday 8/22/70 14:32:00
Smith - Running late
PAN - Hidden

"Thank you," Adam said, smiling like he was about to laugh and then striking a pose, as though he had done it a hundred times before. "I hadn't planned on tonight being about business...." He was running late, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry to whisk the young girl off to the meet. Instead, he took a seat on the bench beside her and seemed to be taking in his surroundings, and enjoying the break. "But, since it looks like it will be, I think there's something I should tell you."

He wanted to explain a bit about what Sledge had said - but if the Feds had tailed Cerb when he left the motel, they might have followed Angel, too. He wouldn't normally have worried too much about who overheard their conversation, but he didn't want to see Sledge busted over his big mouth, or laid-back attitude.

His eyes seemed to slowly regain focus as if he was coming out of a daydream, then he turned to face Angel, his demeanor becoming serious. "Cerb mentioned who gave him the message. I don't see how anything they have to say to us can be good, in the long run."

"Personally, I figure anyone who wanted to look, could dig up enough dirt to bury me." He smiled and exchanged a funny look with Angel that somehow expressed that he thought she was such a person. "I've always relied on putting on a good show, and staying on people's good-sides, rather than trying to hide who I am. So, I figure, it can't hurt to hear them out. Well, hear Cerberus out, anyway."

That was when he stood up. "Whether or not you still want to come, that's your call. They never saw you on the last mission, but they'll probably be watching tonight. I just thought you should know."

Smith's smiling pleasant demeanor returned. "We've got their attention. Nothing we can do about that, right?"

"Besides, we didn't really have anything else to do this weekend, anyway."

[adamu]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:20:00

After eating about as many waffles as he could handle - and he could handle quite a few for an elf - Fortunato's companions still had not arrived.

He hoped it was because they were being extra cautious about being tailed.

The guise he'd chosen for this place, a short heavyset human with close cut hair and business casual clothing, was perfect. Half the people in the place wore Federated Boeing badges and AROs - apparently it was a popular hangout for white collar workers from the massive facility just to the north.

Of course, the usual denizens were also there - a filthy ork counting out change for soykaf and upending the ketchup bottle into his water to make tomato soup. A collection of teens in white-face and blood-red lipstick, clothes the color of their black eye-liner, a few even with what looked like real fang implants. Even a couple of Lone Star cops. They'd come in after he had, and he'd known the worst thing he could do was walk out while they were there. Luckily, they left, apparently on a call, just as the two trolls finally rolled in at a quarter after the hour.

As Johnson wasn't there yet, he decided not to expose himself even to them until everyone had arrived. Then, five minutes later, a bike pulled up right in front of the place, a handsome young man with an elf girl clinging to him. The human dismounted and stowed his helmet in one smooth motion - somehow, his hair was unmussed. The girl in red was more awkward, tugging her own helmet off and stuffing it into her rucksack, almost avoiding looking at the human.

Over the last few days, Fort had taken the teen under his wing to a certain extent, but watching her get off the bike with Johnson, he started to realize that not everyone was likely to see her in the fatherly way he did.

As the pair walked in, he knew they'd quickly see the trolls, and that they'd be just as oblivious of his presence.

[pragma]

The Waffle Iron, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:20:30
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Focusing on the air in front of him for a moment rather than his waffles, Fortunato pulled together the necessary elements of mana to make a watcher spirit. Instead of his usual tiny glowing orb, a long flexible tube of mana had popped in to being. He was concerned for a moment that he'd done something wrong, but the unusually shaped watcher thought at him

What do you want, bosss

Did that last word sound strange? It couldn't have.

Fortunato replied. Wait under the table with those two trolls and say what I tell you in a tone which is loud enough for that table to hear. Also, let me listen to any conversation they have.

He went to scrub the signature only to discover that he couldn't find a trace of it no matter how hard he searched. It was unusual, was this like Rocky's trick this morning. Could he have initiated ...

Johnson and Angel arrived at the table and commenced small talk before Fort's watcher piped up.

"Hey guys, my boss says that he's Fortunate to have friends like you and that he'll be talking through me for a while. He also thinks we should be careful about saying anything suspicious out loud. You ought to use your comms, whatever that means, or talk really quiet."

[JDragon]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:20:04
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky jumped a little as the voice started talking, but resisted the urge to look around. He just nodded and went back to working on the waffles, and rest of his food. It was nice to be eating real food again.

He kept his head down and did his best not to look at anyone, just trying to blend in with the crowd.

[Abbandon]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:28:52
Cerberus - Street Samurai
Pan - Passive

Rocky and himself had shown up at the waffle house but they didnt see any of the others so they walked over to an open seating area that had tiny table surrounded by chairs, a few of them troll sized. Theres no way they could fit their giant asses into a booth without breaking something. After ordering up some grub they waited and began eating. Cerberus who had already had a pretty big breakfast was still starting to feel the pangs of hunger and nobody would have been able to tell he had previously eaten such a huge breakfast from what he had ordered. A large salad and a couple of waffles with bacon, sausage, and some eggs. Syrup had been dumped over it all.

He had been saving the salad for last and by the time he was ready to eat it Rocky got his attention and nodded towards the door upon which Cerberus saw Johnson in a fancy casual outfit and Caittie in some bright red vinyl, she looked alot like any other teeny bopper but they made an uncomfortable looking couple. Probably less so than if she was walking around with him. They approached and moved a tiny table over to the two trolls and then sat down. "Greetings gentlmen," looking at the pile of dirty dishes the two trolls had in front of them with some degree of wonder he continued on "Can you recommend anything good to eat?", Johnson grabbed two menu's and handed one of them to Caittie who was doing her best to stifle a laugh and Johnson's joke and then smiled at the two giants and then started looking over the menu.

Before either of the two trolls could respond though, "Hey guys, my boss says that he's Fortunate to have friends like you and that he'll be talking through me for a while. He also thinks we should be careful about saying anything suspicious out loud. You ought to use your comms, whatever that means, or talk really quiet."

Cerberus froze with a fork full of salad covered in synthsyrup halfway to his waiting mouth as he heard the voice from under the table. After it was finished he shoveled the fork into his mouth and continued eating. With his other hand he began to happily type away with his AR glove. <<@team:: "Hey Fort! We didnt see you when we came in where are you? You better not be that hot waitress I have been eyeballin.">>. Cerberus gazed around the place inbetween bites. <<@team: "I guess if our other friend isnt showing up I will start. Around noon I left the truck stop and went to a friend of mine's to get some stuff, when I exited the place I was approached by our old friends who we had an unfortunate run in with at that gas station. They took me for a ride in their van while they pitched their deal to me. I didnt really have a choice in whether or not I went with them. Playing nice payed off though because they told me that they had tracked me down using camera footage, so I guess we should do something about that.

Anyways, the message they wanted me to pass on was this, they said that they would like to meet with us again, the sooner the better for a possable job. They said that the more of us that show up the better and that we must specifically bring our friend who isnt here or no deal. If we want to meet with them they said their number is in the book. I'm probably not the most adept at picking things up but it didnt seem like the guy was trying to decieve me, and I dont think the mage guy messed with my mind. Hold on and I will play back the entire meeting.">>

Cerberus mentally flipped on his datajack and then subscribed it to his commlink and then played back the entire meet's audio/visual to the team minus Sledge.

[BlackHat]

Northacres The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:30:00
Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Once he arrived Johnson made his way towards the table the trolls had already secured. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing, and nobody wanted to bring up business until everyone arrived. At the time, they all thought that meant waiting for Fortunato.

Still, Johnson did a pretty good job of keeping light conversation going, until it was interrupted by an eerie voice coming from under the table. "Dude, I think your waffle just talked." He said, looking at Rocky with a huge smile. It took conscious effort to resist the urge to look around at the other patrons and try to identify where Fortunato was. Chances are, he was on another plane, or something, or shrouded by magic like he did to the van earlier. It would have been a pointless exercise, which would have just made him look suspiscious or paranoid.

Then leaning in a bit, he adding in a quieter, serious, tone - completely in contrast to his jovial friendly facial expressions. "Use comms, but assume they are compromised, for now, we'll scrub them later. Feel free to talk about the reason we're all here though - just try to keep the conversation on topic."

Then, leaning back, he studied his menu and continued to make idle chatter while Cerberus began subvocalling the details, and transmitting the feed. When he finished, Johnson asked something mundane of Angel, trying to express that he wanted her to help him keep up the fake conversation, so he could contribute to the real one happening between their PANs.

<<@Team::"Nice work recording the meet. That's a bit of a deal-breaker, though."> He leaned towards Angel as if intent on whatever it was she had said, but his eyes stayed focused on Cerberus. <<@Team:: "Even if that bullet didn't kill her, convincing the ghoul to regurgitate her will be difficult.">> His eyes darted back and forth between the trolls, judging their reactions. He hoped they caught on to what he was doing, but readied himself to interrupt them should he get the impression that they were going to correct him out on his obvious mistake. He hadn't seen any communication on the network from Sledge clarifying the situation, and assumed the FBI was eavesdropping one way or another right now. <<@Team "Either way, the deal is off if we can't produce her, and we can't. Sounds pretty open and closed to me - although it is unnerving that they would only want to offer us a job if she's there. They didn't give us any details about the job, or why we're suited to handle it, and only hinted that we could make more money by exposing more of our group's identities to them. Sounds fishy, and I don't like it. If they don't want to work through middle-men, then they shouldn't be trying to hire Shadowrunners.">>

<<@Team:: "Now. Here's the delema. On one hand, I don't want the Feds breathing down our backs, anymore. I'd like to trust that you guys can go to the mall, or whatever, without being tagged, picked up, or questioned. If we get a rep for talking to the Feds, our professional careers are over. We get a rep for working for them, and doubley so. That might not be such a bad thing, being secret-agents sounds sweet - but its probably much less lucrative than our other options.">>

<<@Team:: "On the other hand, if their offer is legit, we could use the money, and you are all probably starting to get a little stir-crazy. I'm open to discussion about our options here - but I say we play hardball. See if they are willing to meet, or talk, without whats-her-name, we don't have a lot to lose. Hell, I see no reason they need to see any of us. If they need us, they should meet with us on our terms. We definately do not want to give the impression that we can be controlled.">>

Johnson then rejoined the somewhat awkward real-world conversation, giving everyone a moment to read or listen to what he had just sent them, and reply, in kind.

[pragma]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:30:10
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato unseen by the group, nodded his assent with Johnson. The man was saying a lot of good things about their rep and their pay grade. At least, they sounded good. Fortunato hadn't done a lot of hiring in his days with the company.

The names worried him. Pritchard and Higgins were kind of a powerhouse team. If they were involved then something big was going down or someone on the team was deep into something of federal importance. He eyed the table, Cerberus, Rocky and Angel were all new to the scene and Fortunato had some difficulty considering Johnson being a serious underworld bigshot of any variety. Sledge was conspicuously missing. After mulling the problem over for a moment he realized that the only person he knew was being hunted by a federal agency was himself.

<<@Team: I agree with what is being said. We absolutely don't want to agree to their terms, but we have to be able to beat them at their own game and really effectively go to ground if this goes south. That means back to motel hell, not the cushy accomodations we just had. And it also means no more wandering around downtown and certainly not in the Love Machine, that needs a new paint job and some body work, by the way.

I've also got to warn you: the feds absolutely can't know I'm there. No astral presence at the meet, they never see me, I never deal with them. If that can't work with you guys, then no matter how much I'd like the cash -- I'm out.

One other thing, since these guys aren't operating under cover they're probably not planning to bag us or double cross us. Doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful, but Higgins dropping his name at the beginning was a decent insurance policy for our survival.>>

[BlackHat]

Northacres The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:31:30
Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

<<@Team:: "Assuming they'll even be interested in meeting with us, I think we can work around that. Keep in mind that they'll certainly have an eye on us while we are working for them, though - so if you don't want them to see you, you're probably going to have to pass on the whole deal. Lay low for a while, ya know. I think I see what they're trying to do by claiming we'll get a bigger offer if we all come out of hiding, but it looks like it is going to backfire. There is no way they would seriously base their offer on the number of people we bring to the meet. ">>

<<@Team:: "Think about it. Either we just show up, and give them the information I assume they want, which we're not going to do, or we try to limit them to only meeting with one of us - possibly less - and risk them offering us next-to-nothing to get it done. I figure, if they do that, they're not very serious about wanting us to do the job, in the first place, and we're better off using that as the reason we decline - which makes us look completely reasonable for not accepting their unreasonable offer. Hopefully, there will be no hard feelings, but since they won't get the information we want, it certainly won't be the end of it.">>

<<@Team:: "The only other possibility would be to try to round up a whole shit-load of people and call their bluff. Something tells me if we rolled into the meet with a hundred-man-team that we wouldn't be seeing a two-thousand percent increase on their offer. It would also flood them with red-herrings, and not a one of them would be the people they're interested in. I dunno that many people that I'd want to put under the FBI's microscope, though - so I say we go with the second option. Unless one of you has a lot of ballsy friends that want to stick it to 'the Man'.">>

<<@Team:: "Its all pointless if they refuse to meet, though, and we're losing members like flies, just talking about them. So, gimme that number, again, and I'll get them on the comm right now and sort this shit out.">>

<<@Team:: "That is, of course, assuming that the three of you are at all intersted in hearing what they have to say.... If not, we can just head home, and I'll work on finding something worth doing this weekend, on my own.">>

[Abbandon]

Northacres The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:32:43
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN - passive

<<@team: "Everything is pointing at these guys being honest. Even though we no longer meet their requirements I think we should still give it a shot. This job could have major perks. I dont know about everyone else but my bank account could definately use a few more 0's and we could all benefit from having help keeping the heat off our backs. >>

Cerberus stacked his dirty dishes on top of one another completely empty of any last bit of food. Sitting there listening to everyone's input he prodded the places he had been shot and tested how sore they were but was relieved to find that they no longer hurt near as bad as a few days ago. It was a reminder though just how dangerous this shadowrunning drek could get. If they started working for the Fed's what kind of shit would they be doing? Wetwork, spying, runs against corps. Would they be facing off against organizations from other governments and corps. Everyone knew corps had more money than the government so that means they would be facing off against better equipped and more skilled people usually.

Having none of the technical skills like the hacker or the mage or even the talking skill of the johnson his job would be to do all the heavy lifting. Government types usually seemed to work non stop to. There were lots of reasons not to take the job but there were just as many reasons to take it, namely shiny new cyber, fat paychecks, protected identity. It didnt sound like the others felt the same way though. Were they in even more drek than he was?

Oh well, Cerberus was already brewing up something to keep him busy if they turned these feds down and they had some downtime.

[JDragon]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:32:48
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

<<@team: "Well they may be honest, but I don't think they have said they won't arrest those of us that have existing warrants out for us. And if I was interested in going to jail I wouldn't be sitting here right now, and from our first conversation I'm pretty sure they know who I am.>>

Rocky stopped for a second, a look of deep thought on his face for the few that could see it.

<<@team: On the other hand, a call and seeing what can be worked out might not hurt. I'm in to at least see what the story is, but can't guarantee I'll do a meeting."

[BlackHat]

Northacres The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:33:30
Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson turned to Angel who had not yet established her level of comfort with this proposition. He didn't suspect that she would have much objection, since, as far as he knew, she hadn't broken any laws at all. Her thrust into this lifestyle was out of her control, and, by all accounts, she was a victim not a criminal.

<<@Team:: "Supposing I do call, and they're willing to talk, I think our odds are pretty good that they'll either begin tracing the connection, or hacking into the commlink. We can limit what they'll find, if anyone has a reasonably clean commlink, and I don't mind handling the negotiation, especially since the ball is in their court, but it would definately be useful to have Angel running interferance. That is, assuming we don't want to invite them over for waffles.">>

[adamu]

The Waffle Iron, just off I-164, Enumclaw, Auburn
Friday 8/22/70 15:33:30


Even as Johnson typed, Angel was already finishing up a few minor tasks she hoped would help shed light on their problem. It took her 0.003 seconds to ascertain that there was, in fact, no Archer Higgins in the public directory for the Seattle grid, but that was no surprise. It took her just as little time to anonymously access the FBI's Seattle office, which was especially easy since she'd already done so just a couple of days ago when verifying the validity of the FBI AROs on the supposed agents' car.

Sure enough, there was a listing with an internal extension number for an "Adjunct Special Agent Higgins." No first name was listed, neither was there any listing for anyone named Lowell.

She noticed that while most of the listings included a brief description of the areas of responsibility of the various personnel, although again no first names, the field under Higgins' name was blank.

All of the listings included an electronic copy of the staffer's FBI ID, although the pictures were all blank. Instead, that space was filled with a uniform message -

In order to safeguard the personal security of our employees, visual identification is not made available to the public. Photos are, however, attached to the hard copy and electronic IDs of all field agents, and those IDs may be electronically overlaid over the templates on this site to verify authenticity. Please direct further inquiries to our Help Desk.

The teen-runner relayed these findings by text message to the team at the wafle shop, using a signal strength of 1.