IC: Dawn of the Artifacts., In Character Thread. Options

[SincereAgape]

Jane was glad to see some of the team members were beginning to have some form of civilized chat. Squeezing through the tight spaces of the plane, she managed to find a seat next to Texas Jack.

The plane was littered and filled with dusty crates with "Fragile" marks all over them. There was hay on the floor of the airplane and just enough room to seat all of the runners. There was very little room for their gear, except for what they could carry on their laps and place on-top of certain crates.

Jane looked at Vera, who was chatting with some of the other team members. She had been the one to take care of the sniper, and it had been her who reported back, stating he had swallowed a suicide pill. She was not sure if she wanted to believe her. Vera had made the episode sound convincing, but Jane couldn't help but think there was another truth to the situation. She would keep a closer eye on Vera, there was more to this women. She was also noticing the way Vera was trying to get under the skin of Dartha. Jane could see that situation potentially becoming very dangerous. She might have to ask some of the other team members to monitor and defuse a conflict between the two women if it ever happened.

Ms. Johnson glanced at Hawkeye. The girl had been quiet for most of the journey thus far. She appeared lost in thought. The girl had come recommended by one of her contacts at Ares. Someone very high up in the food chain, meaning when push came to shove, the girl would be able to handle herself in a fight. Jane just wondered how the girl would fair in Lagos, once people started to notice the two exotic rifles she was carrying around now......would display a agressive nature towards the locals and if so, how would that be portrayed?

Till this point, Hodder had been the most active and friendly of the group. She was impressed by his professionalism, but that did not detour the fact that she distrusted possession mages. He had payed the price during their trip to Seattle for his summoning. Out of all of the team members, Hodder was the most experienced in finding lost artifacts and treasure hunting.

Then there was Dartha. She did not mind when she had used a spell to break the man's will, but the dialogue which happened after words had unsettled Jane. The gnome had showed a sadistic nature when torturing the man, one that she enjoyed. There were ways to make a prisoner talk, and Dartha had opened the way for Vera to get the information out of the man. But the her tone of voice and pleasure out of the entire scene had been to much, for Jane to witness. Her teams and associates were never about sadism, and this was not the place to start.

Innocent's voice permeated from the old style audio speaker.

"Once I hit the air magic man, do your thing."

Jane addressed the group..

"When we land in Lagos, our first priority will be to find transportation and lodging. A friend of mine recommended a hotel in the city that we'll be visiting first. Before hand we'll have to exchange our currency. The up front payments each of you received before the mission will take care of whatever personal expenses each of you shall need."

The plane began to move onto the runway. It was creaking and squeaking. It felt like an old man with arthritis walking down the street towards the local deli.

[pbangarth]

Hodder observed the aircraft judder and rock as it taxied to the runway. He noted several hinges and joints that could use some tender loving care. Nevertheless, the old rust bucket seemed relatively sturdy. Of course, he hadn't looked 'under the hood'.

They waited at the end of the runway a few moments, and then the engines roared and the craft surged forwards. "Engines sound good enough, anyway." Tropical forest and rickety airfield buildings slipped past as the plane gathered speed. Every crevice in the runway's aged surface jarred the airship. The end of the runway approached, and the craft had yet to lift. The engines roared, but the wheels were still on the ground. Words in some language unknown to Hodder burst from the cabin up front. Their meaning was clear.

"Now, my friend, now, give us a nudge, slowly at first so you don't shock the fuselage. Then increase gently to full power." Hodder surrendered control and the elohim took over. Hodder felt the mana flow through him, still alien in its unbelievably easy slide through his nerves though he had felt it so many times before. "Will it ever lose its wonder?" he thought. Only in passing did he notice the well of services shrink.

The aircraft accelerated with liquid smoothness, and the air finally caught the wings enough. Up, just over the trees at the end of the runway they lifted, speeding ever faster. The trees below, seen as the plane banked towards Lagos, blurred in their rush and the ground fell, no... dove away from them. From the cabin up front came a shout without benefit of the intercom, "Hoo, hah! Mama Dorthy you be flyin' like the young girl you once was!" Joyful laughter followed as the pilot exulted in his craft. The intercom scratched into life. "Hah! Magic man, you have some mighty fine juice in that jug o' yours!"

Hodder laughed. The joy the pilot showed was what life was about. "Thank you, O elohim, for your service, which should maintain till the pilot no longer needs it. And thank you for giving him some joy."

As the elohim gave back control of Hodder's body, it started to speak to him, but Hodder interrupted. "Yes, I know. Such joy can belong to all of us. I know." The elohim fell silent. Was that ... sadness... Hodder imagined he detected?

[DigitalOYABUN]

Jacks hands moved deftly over the keyboard and icons in his AR visual cues, but with the occassional lurch in the aircraft he had to rewrite or replace an icon that got placed in the lines of code mistakenly. It was a hassle, but to write this much code, one that might possibly be needed latter by the team it was worth the extra bit of hassle. Jack opens and upends the water bottle he's been sipping on till its dry. Placing the bottle between his legs he reaches into his shirt pocket and retrieves the bag of Beechnut, he takes a two fingered wad and places it into his cheek. The sweet aroma and taste assaults him as his mouth salivates. Jack spits into the bottle, raising it to his lips, then puts the cap back on and returns to his work. Occassionally he stops to spit into the bottle.

[pbangarth]

The aircraft begins to shudder seriously. Hodder looks out the window... and leaps up, startling his fellow passengers. He steps-over, crawls, hand-over-hands it to the front cabin, knocks and pokes his head through the doorway.

Dobiri holds onto the steering rod white-knuckled as he watches the world hurtle by at jet-speed. Literally. "Innocent, my man, you might consider pulling back on the throttle a bit. The plane will fly at four times its normal speed if you push it to the limit. That could be a problem for the fuselage. You know... wings coming off and all."

The white-eyed pilot nods, and comes to his senses a bit. he pulls back on the throttle and the engines' roar decreases. The shuddering of the plane also abates.

[Mister Juan]

Everyone stands and leave. Everyone except Vera, our new guest and myself. By the time I'm up, with my jacket back on, she's got the guy up, guiding him towards the exit. As they get to my level, I grab the firmly by the elbow. He looks up at me, probably checking out his own reflection in my chromed eyes. I can't say if the guy's scared, at ease, or what. Never been a real “people person” kinda guy. He just stares at me. I say what I usually say to people when they just stare at me.

“Don't worry pal, I ain't gonna hurt ya.” I drawl, as I draw my bowie out of my boot.I eye Vera real quick over his shoulder. She just nods once. I turn him round slight, and I slit the plastic restraints off. He does like everyone does; he rubs his wrists and gives me a sort of sheepish smile.

“Thanks man.” and he sounds pretty sincere about it.

"Don't mention it."

She walks by me, and for a instant, I feel like time stops. She glides pass me. I can see every single hair on her head. I can hear the sound her eyelashes make. She looks at me. She looks right throught. And I can see it her eyes. She made her mind up. And she knows I know. She knows I understand perfectly. Within a single blink of her eyes, we come to a silent agreement.

I grab my kit bag and follow them along. A few paces behind and to the left. I ain't real worried about the guy, but if he decides to turn up wise and use her for a shield, I'm taking his ass out. We're almost pass the men's room when Vera stops him. I can't hear to well what she tells him, but the guy nods rapidly a few time. She looks over towards me, just a bit longer than she should. I got no fucking clue how she's going to do it. Frankly, I just hope it ain't real loud. I just nod back at her; my way of confirming that I've got her back.

She disappears behind the door with Bunker.

When she comes back out, he ain't with her anymore.

And I know real well he ain't with the living anymore either.

I know I should feel bad for the guy, but I don't. I know it's a shitty way to go out, but I can summon up any sort of feeling. All in all, this is how the world I've always known works. We've all chosen to become soldiers in these shadow wars. Somewhere along the line, each and every one of us has been faced with the choice; to take the job, or not to. And we all know how hard the fall can be when we fail.

I pretend to flip through an airport magazine I've just picked up. I watch Vera walk away. I stand round not doing a great job of pretending to be doing something. I can't help myself but make sure the deeds done clean. I go in.

When I find him, he's fucking dead alright. I don't touch nothing. I just sorta look around. And it don't seem Vera left anything either. Clean and quiet. At the end of the day, maybe we ought to all be so lucky.

I leave him to be found by someone else.

I dig out my Brave's bassball cap. The sun's already pouding hard when I hit the tarmac, again. Everyone's already piling up in our new ride... which looks about as old as me. Guess it ain't all bad. The old stuff's much sturdier than the new stuff, anyways.

I pull myself inside the small plane. The entire thing shifts and grunts under my weight. I try to settle myself down before the floor gives under one of my boots. Our dear Miss Jane clearly looks puzzled as fuck. Her eyes are big and round. She reminds me of my daughters at christmas. Just without all the happiness.

“Where's Bunker?” she just asks blatantly.

I sit my ass down and pull my kit bag between my legs. I lower my head enough to hide behind my cap. I fucking hate lying... but them civies can be pretty gentile souls.

“He ain't coming with us, mam.”

She don't ask much else. And I'm glad.

I pull the cord of my commlink and jam it behind my ear. There's a bunch of stuff I want to clear out before we land, and I ain't about to scream over the roar.

[pbangarth]

Hodder makes his way back to his seat. Everyone is staring at him. "What? I was only joking about the wings. They're the strongest part of the plane. The fuselage would have gone way before."

[Mister Juan]

I've always found my own synth voice real strange over the waves. It ain't got the same ring as when I speak. Probably has something to do with the fact that accents don't translate real well through direct neural interface. Without my southern drawl, I don't feel like the same guy.

“If you've got any questions, hold them until I'm done. Once we touch down, we've got to have our game up and running, so here's my input. First off, comm SOP. If you've got somethin to say to anyone on the detail, use the comms. Speak out loud only if you really need it. No names on the air, ever. No locations either.”

“Chalk One will be composed of the following elements.”

I turn straighten up a bit so everyone can see me.

“Alpha” I point to Jane.

“Bravo” I point to Vera.

“Charlie” I point to Jack.

“Delta” I point to Hodder.

“Chalk One, at the exception of Alpha, is Inner Perimeter Security. If we hit contact, your priorities are, in order; to secure Alpha to a defensible position, to engage close immediate threats and to provide support; be it medical or electronic warfare.”

“Chalk Two will be the rest of the team.”

“Echo” I point to Hawkeye.

“Foxtrot” I point to Dartha.

“Golf” I jerk my thumb towards my chest.

“Chalk Two is Outer Perimeter Security. If we hit contact, our priority will be the protection of Chalk One, by deploying overwhelming firepower.”

“If we need to break contact, Chalk One will retreat under the cover of Chalk Two. Once Chalk One has moved out, Chalk to will pull back.”

“Any dealing with locals will be conducted by Chalk One, while Chalk Two provides Overwatch.”

“Does anyone have any objections?”

[pbangarth]

Hodder hopes the irony doesn't show on his face. "I'm stuck being close to Jane and Vera. Sucks to be me."

"Delta here: Works for me. A rational distribution of the team's skills."

[DigitalOYABUN]

Jack gives a thumbs up at the assignment.

We'll need to talk about our Electronic Security at some point. I'm not sure yall are comfortable being slaved to my PAN as the hub just yet.

[Chrysalis]

Vera nods at Dexter's instructions.

<<"That sounds very acceptable. I should also inform that Lagos has very little infrastructure so you may want to keep signal boosters nearby. I also have a contact who will meet us in Lagos when we land. He will escort us to a hotel of Alpha's choosing.">>

[Kerenshara]

Dartha hears Pope's voice over the earbuds she's suddenly happy she decided to put in after all. It looks like once more she's not going to get to do the listening she had planned. She'd affixed the tiny wireless subvocal microphone to her throat when she changed back in Cairo, and it looks like that's going to come in handy, too.

>>You seem to be the small-unit-tactics guy on this op', "Golf", so you're calling the shots unless "Alpha" says otherwise. I would say "Fox" fits me better for a callsign, but that'd probably confuse some people.<<

She gives Dexter a pleasant smile that actually reaches her eyes.

>>I will confess to not being that familiar with lots of long-range combat; I'm more accustomed to fights in a close and tall urban environment. Everything I've been reading about Lagos suggests it's low and sprawling which means any single elevation is going to provide all kinds of sight lines. Once we land, I need to see about getting my hands on some glasses. Fortunately, we're going to be walking through the 6th World's single largest clearing house for all kinds of MilSpec gear.<<

She turns to face Jane.

>>If there's any chance you have a somewhat... reliable contact for that in Lagos, "Alpha", I would highly appreciate it.<<

She pauses, looking back at Dexter as she pulls out a headband from her pocket and slips it on.

>>Incidentally, Golf, what did you wind up doing with Bunker?<< she asks with what sounds like simple curiosity, much like a child asking a parent what happened to her missing hamster.

[pbangarth]

>>Foxtrot, look at it this way. Somebody has to cover Golf's and Echo's hoops while they are concentrating 2 kilometres away.<<

[Kerenshara]

Dartha turns her head and blows a kiss at Hodder without her eyes ever leaving Dexter's face.

>>I wasn't complaining, "Delta"; I was explaining that I'm not necessarily what "Golf" may think I am. And that stil leaves my other question.<<

[SincereAgape]

Monday, April 9th, 2072, 1132. Lagos, Yorubu, Nigeria.


The Dorthy, God rest her soul, mercifully lands in the tropical paradise known as Lagos, Nigeria. During the plane ride you could have sworn you could hear the sound of chickens clucking "Cluck cluck cluck" somewhere from the back of the plane. And yes, there was a cage full of chickens. Good thing for the team, the combined glares of Dartha and Dexter told the birds who exactly was boss.

It's the end of Monday morning (Local time) when Alpha-Golf arrive. The team takes proper pre-cautions in leaving the plane. Scanning for intruders and dangers just outside of the Tarmac. Dexter is out first, followed by Dartha, and then Hawkeye. The trio give the rest of the team a thumbs up before everyone starts leaving the plan in their respective assigned code names.

Miss Alpha, aka Jane, looks like she is ready to kiss the ground --- there is only one problem. It is without a doubt one of the filthiest tarmacs you have ever seen. Scorpions and ants crawl underneath your shoes and boots, along with a few other insects you have yet to identify. There is no fancy gate, metallic terminals, or personal male escorts here to carry your luggage (Sorry ladies). It's a long ass walk to the Airport Building.

From the distance you can see the airport building. It looks like row of giant barns which have been connected by uncompleted infrastructure. There are tarps on the roof of the buildings which compensate for large gaping holes in the ceilings. The outer walls of the building is a colorful mosaic red of red, black, and green mold that spreads down the walls. The ground you are walking eventually becomes a thick layer of reddish dust. Strange looking motorcycles -- small and slender lean against the walls.

There is a long line of metahumans waiting to get inside the Airport buildings. There are four main entrances into the airport building. Each entrance is guarded by at least ten men armed with AK-97s wearing armored fatigues and dark glasses. Their faces are heavily scarred. Shaved heads, long hair, short hair, dreadlocks, etc. There are also men walking around the grounds and inspecting the lines.

You see that one of the lines to get into the main building is very short. Jane suggests that the team takes that one to save time.

[Picture multiple turnstile lines to enter an amusement park. Instead, everyone has to enter the airport.]

Jane speaks.

"Airport security. We'll have to get past them. Subtle...subtle....subtle.....subtle...."

[pbangarth]

Monday, April 9th, 2072, 1140. Lagos, Yorubu, Nigeria.

As they walk towards the airport buildings, Hodder opens himself to the astral plane and surveys the scenery... just in case. At Jane's comment, he replaces his goggles and makes sure they are shaded (as if the glare of the sun wasn't enough) to hide his eyes. He brings his attention to the material plane fully once the physical matter of the goggles gets in the way of his astral sight. His pistol is tucked away safely in its holster and hidden. He positions himself just to the right and ahead of Alpha. He read somewhere once that 73.5% of assassination shots come from the 1 o'clock to 2 o'clock direction. Utter nonsense, he is sure, but it seems like a good spot anyway.

>> I am always a little suspicious when one line is much shorter than all the rest. What do the people here know that we don't?<<

[Chrysalis]

Vera takes the lead, looking around at the line and seeing why is it so short. She's carrying her two bags and has her sun glasses propped on her forehead. She looks for the tell-tale signs of someone speaking Yoruba, a language she knows a bit of thanks to the modern power of linguasofts.

[Karoline]

The plane ride doesn't last that long, but in such cramped positions it seems much longer than the ride in the private jet. I've been on edge ever since takeoff, Hodder's joke about the wings coming off... and his assurance that it would be the fuselage would be the thing to break didn't help.

Finally the plane lands and I can settle down. I assemble my gun before looking outside. I know I won't be able to take it onto the tarmac, but if there is trouble, I need to be able to deal with it. Seeing nothing I break my gun down again and stow it back in my pack.

I sigh as I have to drag my bag myself again. I had known I would have trouble when I first packed, but I'd been thinking more about having it in a room than carrying it all over the place, and the addition of the rifle in my bag wasn't helping.

[SincereAgape]

Two of the patrolling guards notices the groups approach. They look like a father and son.

The father looks like he's in his early 20s... The child maybe 8. They are both orks. The father has his AK-97 resting on his shoulder. The child has a bandolier across his chest and is pointing his rifle at the team. The father addresses the team, snicking and in a obvious good mood.

[Yorubu]

[ Spoiler ]

"Greetings. Welcome to Lagos. Y'all look like foreigners whom do not belong here. We don't like foreigners...Hehehe. Right son?"

The little boy nods. While the father is talking to Vera, you can see him flash a dirt stained smile. He is missing a the entire portion of his upper front teeth.

[Yorubu]

[ Spoiler ]

"I'll make it simple. You have the money. We'll let you pass. 200 nuyen per person. 50 nuyen per package and suitcase....and what's in there.....

The man makes a motion towards the bag which seems to be weighing down on Hawkeye's shoulder..

Jane whispers to anyone. "What is he saying?"


[Spoiler for Vera.]

[ Spoiler ]

Incoming Text.

<<"Hello Vera. Tell me when you arrive Lagos. I can have a van pick you up from the airport. Once you respond, I'll tell you the details.">>

-Angel.

[Chrysalis]

Vera listens to the proposition.

In Yoruba:

[ Spoiler ]

"What do you take us for? Tourists? No, 50 nuyen for each of us and all our packages and suitcases. That stays."

To SincereAgape

[ Spoiler ]

<<Text to Angel: Hi Angel. Sorting out the usual bribes with the guards. Should be out in ten minutes or so.>>

[SincereAgape]

The father's demeanor switches to one which is more serious. He nods at Vera very slowly, and then responds a little bit more on edge, but he also appears to take her more seriously.

[Yorubu]

[ Spoiler ]

"50 Nuyen per person. We still want what's in the bad. No pay, we spray." </b>

The child points the AK-97 right at Dartha.



[Everyone can continue to negotiate. If you would like to do so, please make the corresponding social skill test roll along with your dialouge.

-2 for Male Characters. -4 for Females. The amount of successes you can acheive in the roll is limited by your langauge skill.]

Spoiler for Dartha.

[ Spoiler ]

If you would like. You may make a composure test. Threshold of 2. Willpower + Charisma I believe.

This is not necessary, but if you would like to make one. Go for it.

[Chrysalis]

Vera inwardly sighs at her own social mistake. She sent a message to the whole group. With a bit of creative application of a substitution program she replaces her team-mate's names with International Alphabet designators and has it re-substitute them back if anyone sends them to her.


<<To all: [Golf/Pope], you are the most senior man here. It is important that you do the negotiations and not me. At the moment, they are asking for 50 nuyen a head and the rifle sticking out of [Echo/Hawkeye]'s bag. Pope, could you conclude the negotiations. My contact is waiting outside.>>

[Mister Juan]

I'm somehwat glad Hodder jumps in, and cuts Dartha off. I really don't feel like answering her question. It ain't out of shame or anything. I just don't see the point in us talkin about it. All in all, what the fuck is it going to change. He drowned in the toilet. I stabbed him in the face. He was trampled over by an angry giraffe. He shot himself. He ran away to become president of Botswana. Who the fuck cares, really. He's gone, and it don't affect us. Yet, she wants to know.

I should've brought beef jerky. I feel like chewing on something right about now. Jack's got some chewings, but I ain't comfortable enough to ask the guy. Sure, if he offered. But I ain't about to ask. Ever.

Dartha asks again. Right 'bout now, I can't really make my mind up. Jane didn't ask. Hodder didn't ask. No one asked beside her. Either they don't care, or they just get it. But her? She's either as dumb as a bag of hammers, or just... I can't even decide whats the correct word. Didn't go to school too long. Wasn't really good either. Not like the Marine Corps issued thesaurus. At least, I think thats the word for it.

I pull my baseball cap over my face, and cross my arms. Like I plan on catching some shut eye. I don't really. Guess I'm just feeling tired all of a sudden. I answer her in my own fashion. Out loud.

“Nuthin.” Which, when you think about it, is true.

Monday, April 9th, 2072, 1132. Lagos, Yorubu, Nigeria.

It's only when the plane finally touches down that I realize my clothes smell like chicken shit. Great. Now I get to walk around like I'm poultry crap. What a beautiful fuckin' day.

Jumping down from the plane, I feel it rocking back and forth behind me. I'd usually find the entire thing somewhat amusing, but my mind's on my job and nothing else. Got my bag slung across me. I just stand there for a few seconds, looking things over. Again, I feel a bit naked. My rifle's back in its case. Not quite the right moment to tote around Mil Spec gear. Later. The sun's pounding, and it's hot and dry as fucking hell. Reminds me of the desert. I hate the desert. In the city, there's always a reflection. In the jungle, always a sound. The desert's dry of everything. Bad place. Hodder pushes my smart pack out with his two legs. The think probably weights about as much as him. I turn round, grab it with one hand and slip it on.

Sure, it's like carrying another person on your back... but I find the weight reassuring. I slung my kit bag to the side, to I've got enough room to draw if need be.

When we finally start to move, everyone falls into something of a loose formation. Not bad. Personality wise, we ain't gelling for fuck. But this party got serious, and everyone seems to be pulling their weight.

Two locals approach us. They ain't military. They ain't trained security either. Probably local paras. I fuckin' hate para militaries. Most of 'em are crazier than chip heads, got short temper, and are as vicious as my wife's divorce lawyer. Fortunately, they're close enough I can tap both of them. What I don't like is the other 40 odd guys, with Kalashnikovs. And that this is open terain. If it turns bad, for all intent and purposes, we are fucked.

I feel a tremor run through my body. My jacked up nervous system is firing about 30 times faster than it should. My wires might be old, but they still work. The kid soldier is grinning at us. Reminds me of Dartha. When he swings the barrel of his rifle around towards her, I don't like it at all. My jacket is wide open. It's fuckin' hot here... and the jacket ain't helping at all. Under might left arm, my revolver suddently feels a lot heavier than it should. Every single muscle in my body wants to draw. Every single cell wants to fight it out. She's just a kid. Something stirs inside me. I think of my daughters. She's got to be someone's daughter.

My chromed hand twitches. Muscle memory finally kicks in. Luckly for everyone, I don't draw. I can hear Vera's voice pipe in my head. She brings me out of my day dreaming. Good thing she spoke. My instinct almost killed those two. And we would've had a running gunfight on our hands.

I frown and look at Vera. Negotiate? Me? Who the fuck does she think I am? Last time I tried to bargain was for my apparement. And I got a rat infested den in Redmond, for twice the price it was originally.

Oh yea; did I mention I don't speak Yorubu? Or whatever the hell these people speak. Part me wished that by “negotiating” she meant “shoot dead”. She probably ain't kidding...

I come a bit closer to the guy who thinks he's in charge.

“Hey partner” I drawl, not real sure what the hell I'm supposed to say.

“I don't suppose you speak english?”

[Chrysalis]

Vera turns to the man and speaks to him Yoruba.

[ Spoiler ]

"Excuse me, my guardian asked if you would speak to him in English. He thinks the tax for their safety is acceptable, but will not give you the rifle. It's his. Any further request for it, would harm the honor of him and his daughter."

[22d6.hits(5)=9 Language soft: 4, = 4 hits]

[SincereAgape]

The father looks scans the team, and nods upwards at Dexter. He doesn't seem to understand what the man is trying tos say.

Vera speaks, making reference to Hawkeye being Dexter's daughter.

The ork father looks at his own son, and then back at the team.

The son continues to stare at the team, scanning them with his AK-97

[Yoruba]

[ Spoiler ]

"The girl is the man's daughter? Abebe understands. Abebe understands. We no need what is in the girl's bag. Fifty-Nuyen for each. That is all."

The man looks at his son while he is speaking to Vera.

He then looks behind at the other armed men, and gestures for them to allow the team to pass.

[Chrysalis]

Vera carefully nods first to Abebe and then to Pope and then the rest of the team. She transfers the money into Abebe's commlink.

[Yoruba]

[ Spoiler ]

"It's agreed then."

<<Thanks to Pope, the father and son have agreed to let us go at 50 nuyen each. I have already payed the father, so I suggest you move quickly and certainly through. If you are a woman, keep your eyes down, and if you are a man keep looking straight ahead.>>


Vera stays with Pope until the last of them clear off and then moves with Pope past the father and son team.