Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 15th-21st Options

[Morgannah]

16:16:29 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

"Helen."

'My mother was a common whore,' she mused, allowing the thin white motel towel to fall to the tile floor. Cosmo stood in front of the mirror, eyeing her nude body with an artist's critical gaze. Where another might see lush curves; perfect, heavy breasts, a lovely curved waist that flared toward hips that all but begged to be caressed, and limbs that an artist would kill to paint, she couldn't help but see the hints of cellulite that screamed to be erased in a punishing session at the gym, the faint asymmetry of her stomach muscles, and the scars interrupting the smooth pale curve of her left thigh. 'Not even a prostitute, really.'

The mirror was merciless, reflecting the image of a face almost painfully perfect in its symmetry. Lovely green eyes drew her immediate attention, due in large part to the thick frame of impossibly dark lashes that contrasted with the very definition of a peaches and cream complexion. Without the softening effect of lotion and blush, her cheekbones stood out, razor sharp.

'I don't look like her. Does that mean my father was a handsome man?'

She tilted her head to one side, running a perfectly-manicured finger along the line of her jaw. 'Was he a strong man? Handsome, with dimples, green eyes, and a lantern jaw?' Would he recognize her as blood if he saw her in a crowd?

Her head shook, almost of its own volition, and a single blonde ringlet bounced against the upper curve of her breast. 'It's useless to wonder, isn't it?' A soft sigh slid from between lips that would have been too full on another face; a softer, weaker face, but not hers.

'I could have been a star. An actress or an opera singer.' A quarter-turn and Cosmo began examining the satiny expanse of her back, fingers trailing across newly-healed flesh at the base of her spine. 'A successful litigator or a corporate lawyer; the toast of the trip-A elite.' Cosmo slid her hand along the curve of her lower back, leaning even farther forward to sheathe her legs in the most exquisite stockings; anything to draw her attention from the stricken expression that threatened to cut her like a monoblade.

'A devoted wife? Loving mother?'

She turned her back on the mirror and pulled something from the hanger on the back of the bathroom door. Watered silk and liquid fire whispered across her skin, evoking promises of decadence and violence; wildest dreams and worst nightmares all rolled into one.

'But they found me first,' she reminded herself, not needing to turn around to see the way her glossy vermillion lips pouted above the mandarin collar, 'and they made me into what I am today.'

Silken roses on gemstone vines twined along the bodice that looked as if it had been painted onto her while luxuriously soft fabric swirled about one leg, leaving the other exposed from the lower curve of her hip to the tip of her stilettoed heel. Eve, at least, had chosen her fate; Cosmo felt like the apple.

'A weapon.'

[grendel]

16:18:33 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

"Wow," breathed Shield, "you're gorgeous."

Cosmo turned from the mirror with a smile, her introspections submerging effortlessly beneath a mask woven from years of training. She finished hanging her left earring, glancing down at the sheath of shimmering crimson which hugged the curves of her body. Jean-Paul had crafted an exquisitely detailed bodice, the straps of which appeared to be intertwined vines of roses that climbed the soft expanse of her chest to circle her neck in a high mandarin collar. This precluded the sinfully expensive rope of diamonds that Cosmo had planned on wearing, but luckily one of Jean-Paul's good friends was a jeweler, who had provided almost equally expensive earrings. The eighteen carat white gold chains simply dripped with diamonds, a statement almost as bold as the slit up the side of her dress.

"Why, thank you," she replied, watching for a moment as he fumbled with the double windsor for his tie. With a smile, she brushed his hands away, her own, carefully manicured fingers deftly taming the silk into the perfect knot.

"You clean up pretty well yourself."

Shield chuckles, reaching for his suit coat. "Hardly, I could probably have worn my sweatpants and no one in the place would have noticed. They're all going to be staring at you."

[Morgannah]

16:20:42 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

"I'm not so sure about that."

She smiled and guided Shield over to stand in front of the mirror, gently turning him until he had no choice but to see his own reflection.

"People are wrong when they say that 'clothes make the man.'" Cosmo paused to meet his gaze in the mirror, nodding once as if to emphasize her words before she began to make minute adjustments to the pristine linen shirt. "This shirt, for example, isn't white. It isn't snow white or even off-white. It isn't ivory or chalk." She glanced up again, grinning. "It's bone-white and it's perfect for your skin tone. See these pleats here? It's texturing, just like the pattern on your suit. Your shoulders are so broad," she ran her hands along his shoulders, smoothing the fabric and illustrating her point at the same time, "that it works beautifully. Most men can't wear something like this without being overwhelmed."

Cosmo took the suit jacket from Shield's unresisting hand, guiding each arm into its proper sleeve and watching him intently as she stood to one side and fastened the front closure. She was quiet for a full minute before she handed him the metallic handkerchief for his pocket and waited as he slipped it into its proper place. The change in him was subtle but she knew that her words had the proper effect.

"Some men wear clothes like this because they think it will make them better. More handsome. More powerful." She laughed quietly and gave her head a little shake. "But they're wrong; they only impress themselves and people petty enough to be impressed by a label when they should be looking at the person."

"This was tailored to fit you, Eric, and you wear it perfectly. It enhances you, but it doesn't change a thing."

"Now." Cosmo smiled, sliding her arm through his. "Are you ready?"

[grendel]

16:24:03 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

Shield glanced aside at Cosmo, not believing for an instant that more eyes would be on him than her. But he accepted her explanation, tension slowly leeching from his frame as she fussed over the fit of his suit. In all honesty, he did have to admit that it made him look damn good. Tucking his left hand into his pant's pocket, he tried on a rakish smile for size. Cosmo watched amusedly as he tilted his shoulders, working out the pose in the mirror to where it telegraphed the message he wanted. Memories surfaced of doing the same thing, of spending hours in front of a mirror or a classmate, shifting from one expression to another, from one message to another in silent body language. Shaking herself free of the reverie, she cocked an eyebrow at Shield.

"Anytime you're ready there, playboy."

Shield chuckled. "Almost."

Sliding an arm around Cosmo's waist, he leaned in and, with all the care due her careful makeup preparations, kissed her. He broke free from the embrace a moment later with a playful shiver.

"Now I'm ready."

Throwing his long coat over his arm, he opened the door for Cosmo to precede him.

[Mister Juan]

12:59:09 Monday, 15 January 2063 - Outside The Bakery, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

She furiously stabbed the horn a few times.
In her current state, the light traffic almost seemed like an insurmountable obstacle.

"I can't. I can't go home. I need to get Lana. I need to make sure she's safe."

Ludi could already feel something blocking the back of her throat. She took a breath in, to try to steel her nerves.
Her voice sounded confident, the calm tone surreal to her own ears.
Behind her eyes, she could feel her brain trying to kick its way out.

She swerved in the next lane, barely missing a parked car near the curb.

[grendel]

13:01:27 Monday, 15 January 2063 - Northeast bound on W. 143 St, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

A pause filled the conversation as Ludi cut through traffic, horns blaring in her wake. Despite the cold fear gripping her heart, she could see Mikhail in her mind, his eyes hard as granite, mouth set in a tense line.

"All right," she heard him say, "but no stops anywhere else. Vadim will be waiting for you when you get home."

Ludi nodded as the phone cut out, her attention fully absorbed with the midday traffic.

[Morgannah]

16:26:48 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

Ah, but it was sweet!

Slowly, softly, ever so slightly, she felt her lips part, breath sliding out in a delighted rush as he leaned into her, mouth hovering above her own. She could have tilted her face, moved her head and closed the distance between them but instead, instead she eased her shoulders, back arching in subtle invitation. It was sweet; a brief meeting of lips, bodies pressed close, if only for a moment. If she didn't close her eyes, well, she knew that this moment was for Shield and not for her.

Cosmo's smile never faded, even as she reached for the charmingly simple wrap hanging next to his coat. "All right," she laughed, slinging the garment almost casually across her shoulders as she stepped through the doorway and into the fading sunlight.

"Let's head out."

[grendel]

16:29:07 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Room 214, Commerce Motel 8, 7810 Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

"Your ride or mine?" asked Shield as they reached the parking lot. Cosmo paused for a moment, practical concerns insinuating themselves into her dreams of Hollywood elegance. She passed her keys to the man next to her.

"Take mine, you drive."

Shield nodded, pausing only when he saw Cosmo waiting by the passenger side of the vehicle. Hurrying around to her side, he opened the door for her with a flourish. Smiling, she curtsied before sliding into the seat. Shield whistled, closing the door and shaking his head at the expanse of pale thigh revealed by Cosmo's movements.

She didn't wait for him to pull out of the parking lot before opening the glove compartment and withdrawing the two prepaid commlinks she'd picked up from the vending machines outside the motel's lobby. Opening up the first, she keyed in the first of two sixteen digit account activation numbers provided by Scrye.

The first call was to the slim Asian operator herself.

[Morgannah]

16:32:28 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo alloted herself one second to close her eyes, to breathe in deep, much like a foot soldier preparing for a dire strike against the enemy or a night predator set to pounce upon an unseen foe. Just one second to acknowledge, even embrace the challenge ahead of them before she slipped into character, her voice a throaty 'purr' across the line while she arched against the plush leather seat.

'Who needs a gun,' she mused, watching the road through thick black eyelashes 'when they have legs like these?'

"How are we looking tonight, Baby?"

[grendel]

16:32:49 Tuesday, 16th January 2063 - Telegraph Road, Los Angeles, CFS

Although Cosmo could clearly see in her minds eye the slim Asian operator, the voice on the other end of the line was just a simple electronic whisper, devoid of emotion.

"Locked on, five by five. I've got exterior camera feeds plus a backdoor into the interior feeds. I'm not sitting on them now because the hotel has a decent system and have doubled up on their spiders. Apparently someone special is going to be at this party tonight."

It wasn't surprising to Cosmo, but it wasn't welcome news, either. She let the silence stretch on the line as she watched Shield navigate the traffic.

"All right," she said at last. "Stay on the feeds and shift to the interior when we make the party."

"Copy all. See you in a bit."

Cosmo closed the line, tension shimmering in her smile.

[grendel]

07:00:02 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS

A mind-numbingly loud blast of feedback from the trideo's speakers brings Tony lurching up right in his seat, hand groping for his weapon. A second or two ticks past as he grapples with the unfamiliar surroundings and the abrupt wakeup call. The job, headless corpses, safehouse, trideo, sleep, he remembers finally. Speaking of which, the ear-splitting buzz which dumped him out of his rest state had vanished, only to be replaced with a static-filled image of a curious masked face. A voice, youthful and male, exhorts:

"People should not fear their governments. Governments should fear their people. Arise, the time of reckoning is almost-"

The image suddenly cuts away to the that PacRimComm stand-by graphic before a NERPS commercial begins playing. Tony stares in bewilderment at the innocuous images parading across the trideo screen, thinking Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

[bclements]

07:01:02 Monday, 15 January 2063 4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS


It took Tony another few seconds to mentally connect what had happened. Pirates he thought, blinking hard and roughly rubbing his face. He’d been unfamiliar with the concept when he’d moved up here, and wasn’t generally annoyed by it, and it usually improved the dross of late night TV when done well.

At 7 o’clock in the morning, after a job last night, and after what had happened in the past week, it was annoying, and if he’d had more to drink before passing out it might have been expensive. Tony almost put the pistol he’d realized was in his hand away, thought better of it, and put it in the cargo pocket on his leg, flicking off the trideo on the way out to the bathroom down the hall.

Worst part about this place: no hot water when you want it. Second worse part: just so gray. Standing in line for the floor’s bathroom could have brought back memories from the dorm at the Academy; but whereas that place had brightly colored walls, clean floors, and a lightness about it (both from actual light and comradery), this was just so damned grey. Grey light dribbled though a grimy window at the end of the hall, grey figures (and not even many of them) ambled in the not-wide hallway. Dull, way-past-their-date old-style fluorescents bathed the hall and the actual bathroom in more shadow than light. Ancient industrial carpet so beaten down and worn-in with filth Tony wouldn’t dare walk down them barefoot. Tony’d picked this place because of these features, but actually having to be here slapped him in the face with the exact things he’d picked. And this isn’t even that bad compared to where you’d have to go next he thought to himself, walking through the door as his turn came to splash himself with frigid water ’cause there ain’t no way I’m getting in that shower.

16:07:02 Monday, 15 January 2063 4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS


It had been an apprehensive but surprisingly boring morning and afternoon. Tony napped occasionally and exercised leisurely. He ventured out a few times to buy not-that-bad food and foul, self heating but efficient soycaf from the carts that had decamped from the street to the sidewalk while he’d slept. They were still out because of the not-that-bad business that the casinos and gambling dens did, nightshift workers dumped out with only a few nuyen left and an empty stomach. Not lit up in neon and crawling with people from the night before, the street looked almost as drab (if more populous) as the inside of Tony’s doss.

He cleaned every gun he had brought, checked and rechecked ammo, and heard the same news stories told, retold, analyzed and reanalyzed all afternoon.Thank god nothing about Bellevue. He’d reviewed the plans to the prison Andie was in over a couple of cheap beers leftover from the night before, revising and re-thinking the embryonic plan he’d thought up a couple of days ago. A few times he’d picked up the psec to call Reign, but put it down thinking let’s get done with this first, then call her; probably couldn’t get me not to go to her from here anyway. And waiting for the Johnson to call. Corporate prick is probably trying to figure out how to screw me, but his sense of protocol wouldn’t let him call until at least later on in the evening.

At a little after 4, he laid down for another nap as the grey light started getting dimmer in the windows. Just waiting on a call was his last thought.

[grendel]

17:28:43 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS

Tony is dozing lightly when the buzz of his commlink wakes him fully. He'd killed the last hour and a half on the couch, flipping trid channels and catching cat naps. He's just in time to catch the end of a news story about a local man reported missing. The glimpse he gets of the picture seems familiar but then again it's just another one of many grainy surveillance shots he's looked at recently. Certainly in a city the size of Seattle, there's no shortage of missing and disappeared individuals. Tony rubs his hand through his hair as he answers the comm.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Francis? It's Mr. Johnson. I received your status update on the job. If you're available to meet this evening, I'll be at The Waterfront at six thirty."

A shadow flickered across Tony's face, just a moment of annoyance that's gone almost immediately. I hate how they try and phrase a command like a question.

"Six thirty," he replies tersely, "I'll see you there."

The line goes dead as the call terminates.

[bclements]

17:46:57 Monday, 15 January 2063 - 4054 East Gate Dr. Apt 4b, Bellevue, Seattle UCAS

Corporate prick Tony thought, still bristling at the use of his last name. It was still more of an annoyance to Tony than anything; knowing it was one thing, but actually doing something with it was probably beyond where this guy was in the pecking order. Stripping off his shirt, Tony went over to the sink to wash up a bit before going. The hot water tap gave a spray of rusty water, then nothing. Rolling his eyes Tony grabbed his shave cream and razor from his bag, popped the self-heating tab on a cup of soycaf, took a swig, and used it to shave with. At least the water doesn’t smell bad he thought, toweling himself down after a wipe-bath and changing into fresh clothes for the meet.

18:24:06 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

You’d think they’d make these longcoats warmer Tony thought, a 3 levels up in a parking deck and 2 blocks away from The Waterfront. The pitted waist high plasticrete walls of this level did more to amplify the chill wind coming off the Sound than block it. Thankfully, a sweater layered over a knock-off collered shirt under the coat did help to keep all but the sharpest gusts off him. He moved briskly but not-that-hurriedly down the stairs to the ground entrance, pausing just before coming out of the stairwell to make sure his Browning was well secured inside its holster, and that both of them were out of sight but reachable if something happened.

Moving out into the street, Tony moved mostly with the flow of foot traffic south to the bar, dodging around the occasional eddy of knotted traffic. Should be on time unless someone pulls out a gun he thought.

[grendel]

18:36:35 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony is, in fact, right on time, stepping up to the bar at just half past the hour. He takes a moment to scan through the happy hour clientele despite having seen both the Johnson and his two bodyguards immediately upon entering. Nothing aroused his suspicions, though both bodyguards did seem to be a bit more tense than he remembered. Seems like everyone's on edge these days, he thought, picking up his drink and maneuvering towards the Johnson's table. The same standard issue fake smile greeted him, although this time there were fewer pleasantries.

"My employers are pleased with the swift completion of the job," commented the Johnson, placing a slim certified credstick on the table. "Your agreed upon fee."

Tony dropped the credstick into his pocket, checking the balance with just a glance. He didn't trust the Johnson, but he wasn't going to commit to the poor etiquette of actually verifying the payment. In any case, everything did seem to be in order. He sipped from his drink, ready to make his exit when the Johnson spoke again.

"Based on your recent performance, my employers are considering hiring you for additional tasks. Is your schedule open?"

[bclements]

18:37:11 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Externally, Tony didn’t react to what the Johnson had said, other than taking another sip of his drink. Internally, a quick debate resolved itself in the favor of nuyen; while he didn’t like the smarmy fragger in front of him or what he represented (and didn’t think that tossing a couple of grenades amounted to excellent work), he would need nuyen and a lot of it to accomplish his goal of getting Andie out of prison. And the best way to get that nuyen was steady work.

Setting his glass down again, Tony drawled “I’m sure I can make time, depending on the job and the pay. I will say I don’t like end-running-around my fixer though.”

[grendel]

18:39:54 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The Johnson smiles humorlessly. "If you really feel that your fixer isn't going to be able to put soy on the table because he misses out on the ten percent commission off this next job, you're welcome to forgo that payment yourself. There'll be enough for you both on this one, since it's a rush job."

He turns a small trideo display unit so Tony can see it. At first, Tony thinks there must be some kind of mistake, since the location is familiar from his recon just a couple of days ago. But when the Johnson continues with the briefing, a warning cold coils itself around the base of Tony's spine.

"One of my employers' subsidaries owns a small office at 10441 Pacific Court Way. We've recently uncovered information that leads us to believe this office will be attacked tonight in an effort to sabotage a very important corporate meeting taking place. My employers would like you to proceed on site immediately, secure the office, and protect the meeting. It's a virtual meeting taking place on the servers in the office, so no one will be physically present. Nevertheless, the vulnerability of the infrastructure necessitates that we take precautions. I will have a passkey which will allow you access to all rooms of the office. Due to the critical nature of this job, my employers have authorized me to offer you fifteen thousand nuyen."

[bclements]

18:40:05 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Uh oh. "What kind of attack, and exactly what are you saying about immediately?" The cold chill started moving up Tony's spine.

[grendel]

18:42:27 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The Johnson consults an internal set of notes.

"The indications and warnings were general in nature, but we suspect a physical intrusion in an attempt to disconnect or destroy the company's servers. Obviously I understand that you don't come to a meeting like this properly equipped for an immediate departure on mission, so my employers would understand a short delay of no more than two hours before you reported on site. Does that clarify the requirements?"

[bclements]

18:44:01 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Not really, no. Highly doubt you’re going to give up more though. “Just me, or are there reinforcements, or any resources other than nuyen?” Tony said, taking another sip of his whiskey.

[grendel]

18:45:57 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The Johnson pauses to consult what Tony suspects is an AR information feed before answering.

"As it stands now, you are the only physical support we've been able to acquire to meet this threat. And, yes, nuyen is the only resource we currently have available."

[bclements]

18:47:01 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony leaned against the table, right arm against the table propping his head up by the temple. Training exercise or suicide mission. Yay for getting what you wish for

“Ok, so let me get this straight: You want me, without known or possibly any reinforcement, and with basically what I can gather in the next two hours except what I’ve got on me, to make sure the server at the site will remain online for the duration of the meeting. You are not giving me anything other than what I have, which you do not know for certain, what I can contract on short notice assuming any of my fee is upfront, and my wits against an adversary of unknown size, equipment, and motivation. Does this about sum up what I’m going into?” he asked, numbering off the points with his free hand.

[grendel]

18:48:47 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The Johnson frowns as Tony summarizes the tasking.

"Your encapsulation of the situation is accurate according to my data, although I do have some amplifying information. The opposition expected is between one and four individuals. We don't believe that our competitors have the resources available to field a larger team of assets."

[bclements]

18:48:10 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Great, only at worst 4-1. Second bit of good news from this fragger. Maybe you walk out of this with some good nuyen.

"Ok, (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) 20,000, (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) 7500 up front, access to the intel that you’ve got on this, and I really hope you've got Matrix coverage on your end 'cause I can't do that or probably arrange for anybody worth a damn to get into place in that time period."” Tony took the last slug of his drink and continued, " Also, understand Mr. Johnson that while I’m pretty good at my job, I’m not going to charge into mortar fire. From what you've said, I don't think I'm going to do that, but I like to make my own assessments."” And I ain't going to be held responsable for blowing a wall out if it's needed.

[grendel]

18:49:04 Monday, 15 January 2063 - The Waterfront Bar, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

" (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) 8,000 up front, (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) 7,000 after, with a (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) 3000 bonus if you have to act in defense of the office," counters the Johnson. "Don't sweat the matrix coverage, we have assets in place to defend the meeting virtually if they try and get in that way. No, our primary fear is a physical intrusion against the servers."