Southern Hospitality, Ya'll come back now ... Options

[ludomastro]

The speakers built into the wall come to life once again and a sultry feminine voice says, "Welcome to the Druid Hills. How may we be of service to you and your guests Mr. Johnson.?"

[2bit]

Vick, alone in one of the bedrooms, silently readies his Predator.


< [Vick] Was that you, Jazz? >

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:00 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

< [Jazz] No. That's because of the motion sensors, obviously. But why is it refering to Mr Johnson? Kinda silly, huh? >

Since noone seems to feel like answering her, Jazz turns up the volume on the speakers of her commlink appropriately and let's a pretty bland, male voice say: "Nothing for now. Thanks!"

[2bit]

< [Vick] You sure we're alone? >

Digger, I swear to god; if you screwed me over, you'll pay. . .

Vick steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. His eyes and ears are at full alert, his ultrasound active.

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:00 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Eric looks over as Jazz answers the voice.
<@Jazz [Book] Nothing for now? What about that beer? Ah well. Any news?>

[ludomastro]

The voice answers, "Thank you Mr. Johnson. Should you require anything, please let the clubhouse know."

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:00 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

< [Jazz] That was Mr Johnson. Say hello to Mr Johnson. >

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:01 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Eric replies as he heads out of the room<@Jazz [Book] Well hello Mr Johnson... I'm gonna crash. I'll catch up with you in the morning and I'll follow up what ever leads you find tonight. So Ka?>

The front door opens and Carron Dalton strolls into into the safehouse with two sacks of food.
<@All [Dalton] I brought munchies! I got zapper burritos, a 12-pack of Meister Brau, chips, soy-kaf, Monster Drinks, everything we need for a few days.>

Eric looks over the food only slightly less impressed with it than with the choice in beer. He shakes his head and continues on towards one of the bedrooms to get some sleep.

Dalton put the food in the refrigerator.
<@All [Dalton] So what's the plan?>

[Cedric Rolfsson]

Sunday, March 2, 2070 23:01 Lap of Luxury, Atlanta

Dean made sure his gear was securely stowed, then wearing headed back to the main room, his heavy pistol openly exposed on his belt. He looked around at the crew that was quickly gathering and moved to take a seat in one of the comfortable overstuffed chairs.

"So where should we start then?"

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:02 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Dalton places all the food into refrigerator except two burritos and two squeeze-packs of beer. He drops one on the table in front of Jazz and answers Dean, <@All [Dalton] I was thinking a recon of the head-quarters with the mage at zero-six-hundred. See who comes and goes find out what time our boy comes in to the office.>

Eric still on comes while preparing to get a little sleep, adds to the conversation, <@All [Book] I have it from a reasonably good source that he is rumored to sleep in a loft at the campaign HQ when in town.>

After placing two burritos in the microwave and taking a drink from his beer Dalton continues, <@All [Dalton] Well, I guess we can prove or disprove that little bit of intel tomorrow. A good heads up though.> Dalton looks over at Jazz as he continues silently speaking into the coms, <@All [Dalton] Where are we with getting his schedule?>

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:03 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Jazz picks up one of the bottles and raises it slightly. "Thanks!"

< [Jazz] I'll see what I can do. Don't expect any results soon, it takes a while to get in there while keeping a low profile. And I need to finish my beer first, of course. >

[2bit]

Vick has finished inspecting his gear, satisfied with its collective condition. He dons a quick draw holster and stowes his Predator there, loaded with Stick n' Shock. The silencer stays in a pants pocket.


< [Vick] To recap, here's the short list Book texted earlier: >
< [Vick]
1) Connection to Azzies
2) Ork girlfriend
3) Ares kickbacks
4) Schedule here in East Point
5) Fund raising dinner in a week at his headquaters in downtown
6) Other..? >
< Lots to do. . . especially for you, Jazz. Maybe we can get a tap on our man's personal commlink. If he's too secure, then maybe someone he trusts will be just as good. >

< We need more details on the ork girlfriend. Her status, her connection, their history. I have a feeling she's easy leverage. >

< We could put a tail on our candidate, but I dunno how much good it's gonna do. It's more likely to attract attention than discover anything useful. No, believe me, I know, for this kind of job, we need leverage on the inside. >

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:05 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Dalton starts a second beer as he pulls his burritos out the the microwave and looks over the list in AR. Two bites and the first burrito is down, then Dalton speaks again. <@All [Dalton] Not much the rest of us can do tonight to that list. I'm gonna follow Book's example and get some shut-eye. I'm thinking: Set the alarm for 0-400, pull out at 0-4-30, try to be at the HQ around 0-600. Who wants to go?>

Book adds his $0.02 from the small bedroom, <@All [Book] I'll go just to run a little astral recon. Place is probably tight as a fort, but you never know when you can cut a break. If we do start tailing the candidate, we are gonna need to switch tails frequently. Who else has a vehicle?>

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 23:15 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Jazz puts the now empty bottle back on the table before her. "Alright."

< [Jazz] How 'bout this. You guys figure out what you can do without relying on information I can dig up, while I look for a way in. Takes a few hours, minimum, so you got plenty time in the mean. Once we got an entrance into their system, I can start looking for any clues, and we can go from there. To work! For me, anyways. >

With that, Jazz leans back onto the sofa, in a quite relaxed position.

[Redjack]

Monday, March 3rd, 2070; 04:00 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

<@Dalton [Dalton] *BEEEP* *BEEEP* *BEEEP*> Dalton swats the "OFF" ARO and rolls over. He does three push-ups just so he can say PT is done for the day. The house is quiet. The civilians are still asleep...

As he enters the living room and sees Jazz sitting on the couch, he imagines the hacker is the one member of the team who is still awake. Imagine she'll catch her shut-eye while we chase out the leg-work.

Sliding into the kitchen he almost grabs a beer, but conscious gets the better of him Focus on the run... and he makes a cup of instant soy-kaf and a burrito instead. Breakfast of champions.

04:10
Dalton heads into the smaller bedroom to wake up Book but doesn't get the chance. As soon as he opens the door, some sort of spirit-form rattlesnake appears on the sleeping shaman's chest and begins hissing and shaking its rattles.

"What?"" is Book groggy challenge to the violation of his sleep.

Dalton smirks, "Time to go to work. Day's a wastin'."

Book shrugs and sits up in the bed, fighting to stay awake.

Dalton continues his rounds to rouse Vick and Dean, careful not to get himself shot, melted, fried or simply slugged in the process.

[2bit]

04:15

Vick is up and heating up soykaf.
*yawn*
"Well, like I said last night, I'm currently between vehicles. I make a competent shadow, but someone would have to let me drive."
*slurp*
"Did we get the guy's itinerary? Or a name on that tusker?"

[Cedric Rolfsson]

04:15:00 Kitchen

Dean huddled over his cup of steaming soykaf, trying to jump start his brain.

"We could visit the target's campaign headquarters, maybe scope out the security. If we had a chance we could pull the tag numbers on some of their vehicles, maybe help track the target's movement."

He pulled his head up, loosening the muscles in his neck.

"We should also establish some security around here. I'd think a couple of independant cameras, maybe a couple of motion detectors or a drone or something just in case we become targets. We need to work out some basic code words to let us communicate when we might be overheard, like in the middle of a firefight. If we have a couple of slow hours, maybe we could spend some time drilling for combat situations, things like how we're going to clear a room, move down a hallway, etc. A little practice now might make all the difference in the world latter, even if we just talk our way through the scenarios rather than run a physical drill."

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 04:05 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

With the sudden realization, that someone else is in the room, Jazz reflexes kick in and the adrenaline rush jump starts her from zero to hundred. Instinctively, she reaches for her gun, but (luckily) it isn't within reach.

A split second later, she recognizes Dalton in the room.

"Sorry! At this early time, reflexes outrace the brain."

After stretching her limbs, neck and shoulders a bit, Jazz slowly gets up.

"Coffee? Good idea."

[Redjack]

Monday, March 3rd, 2070; 04:20 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Dalton grabs a clean cup and nukes a cup of instant soy-kaf for Jazz and presents it as though it were a cup of java in a five-star hotel.

Book on the other hand looks at the rigger... almost with pity... but men who fawn over Jazz deserve what they get. He nukes some water and produces a tea bag from a baggy in his jacket pocket. Ahhhh... Nothing like a black tea blend in the morning.

Dalton replies to Dean, <@All [Dalton] Check. Let's start with secure communications. We definitely also need a communication protocol in case the tables turn. Something like 'Tell your mom Hi' if we become compromised and need to warn the rest of the team. And as to drones... anybody have any?>

<@All [Book] Spells and spirits... Just spells and spirits myself.>

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 04:30 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

< [Jazz] I'm almost done with my perimeter check. Will be able to get you some more info, soon. Alright. Back to work, I guess. Oh, yeah. Good morning, everyone! >

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 04:30 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Dalton eats his burrito and drinks his soy-kaf thinking about the remaining beer in the refrigerator. He stares at the ice-box for several long minutes as his internal battle wages. One beer before we go will be ok. That's not outa line. No! Why am I even thinking this. Its a run. Its time to be a professional and getting sauced, or even having one drink before hand, is not professional. I need this connection and this run. Time to focus soldier.

Dalton looks at his chronometer in in AR as Jazz makes her announcement,
<@Jazz [Dalton] Good morning to you too sunshine.>
<@All [Dalton] Ok, time to load up and move out. If you're catching the train to town, now is the time to go.>

Book wearily eyes the driver whose street clothes form a stark contrast to Book's cheap suit. He has street clothes in his backpack, but they are heading into a district where Book needs to blend with the upper class, not the lower class. He starts to reply to the much too chipper rigger, but decides its just not worth it and following his out to the car.

[2bit]

Vick packs up his things.
<@ Dalton [Vick] Dalton, what's your rig? Is there room to stow a rifle out of sight in there?>

Vick will just be wearing street clothes and his armor jacket, but he figures anyplace downtown gets a good mix of people. The Predator, loaded with stick n' shock, gets holstered, along with a few extra clips. The Alpha is bagged up. He picks it up, but waits on Dalton's reply.

[Redjack]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 04:31 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

Dalton spins on his heal in mid stride to turn back to face Vick, <@All [Dalton] A 2068 Chrysler-Nissan Patrol with a blue-printed 405 horsepower dyno-hybrid engine and the full defense package. Painted dark gray, no markings and decals for the sides for Super-Flush Plumbing, UPS, 8AM Delivery & Pizza Team's High Threat Delivery Unit. We got plenty of room for the team and our tools. My suggestion was we head down to the area; It'll take a while to get there. We can discuss specifics on the way and give Jazz more time to plan.>

Book chimes in as well, <@All [Book] In so much as we devise a plan before anyone goes off on a limb and blows the run for us. We can park a few blocks away. I can perform a distance astral recon, someone can do a walk by.. perhaps... and hopefully Jazz will have some details by the time we get there to assist in some detailed planning.>

Dalton keeps the momentum going, Sure whatever, I don't want to blow the run. You smart guys tell me how we want to play this and I'll drive..>

[Thanee]

Sunday, March 2nd, 2070; 04:31 EST; Druid Hills Country Club, Atlanta, CAS

< [Jazz] Sounds good, guys. I'll get back to you, when I have something. >

Jazz then continues where she had stopped, when she dozed off earlier, and once she has found a hole in the firewall, she will create a new account for the system, getting it administration level access permissions, as she will need to be able to access Mr Fulerton's personal files.

[ludomastro]

Jazz finds herself immersed in the system. She notes that there is a momentary jump in the image and she finds herself staring at her favored image - her filter is working.