IC: SRM04-02 Extraction, Artifact Rush, Part 1 Options

[Kiirnodel]

Gardner smiles as he thanks Moreau and cuts the line. He transfers the address over to Silas, "Looks like we won't be needing that safehouse for now. We have a meeting with our first potential buyer."

He leans over to look into the back as Needle continues to berate Acson, "calm down, calm down. It isn't entirely his fault that he doesn't know the proper biz, it's not like he's done this before." He gives Acson a quick, worried look, nearly asking 'You haven't, have you?', then looks back to Needle. "He's likely worth more alive to any of our potential buyers, as soon as Eclipse is back from getting his gear we can head to the meeting and start getting all of this done with."

[Severus Snape]

Needle sighs heavily, not wanting to let up on the Cordex, but also not wanting to alienate her new team. Considering they all just met one another a couple hours ago at the most, she backs off of Acson.

"Ok, wage-slave - you get a reprieve. But you better not be lying about any of this drek. If this book thingy doesn't even exist, or if any of the other guys don't want you or are unwilling to pay us for dropping you in their corporate laps...". Her voice trailed off at that last while she turned the rusty box cutter over in her hands several times, making a few slicing motions, all for effect so that Acson's imagination might get away from him.

[Dak]

Mr. White ends the call with MarcusB.

"Ladies and Gents, depending on whether you're paranoid, or extremely paranoid, we may want to exercise some extreme caution here. A contact of mine leads me to believe that our friend here is being searched for, by very active means. To the extent that I'm not sure how comfortable I am trying to sell him off to the highest bidder via comms."

He thinks for a moment. "I'm inclined to say that we're safer on the road. We're moving, and not trapped anywhere. Holing up in a building just gives a convenient place to assemble assault teams."

Mr. White produces a small case for old fashion business cards and thumbs through them for a moment before plucking one from the stack. "I can give Laurent from the Atlantean foundation a call if we like, but again, I'm a bit wary of discussing much via comm."

[Slacker]

As the van rolls to a stop in the parking lot of....this really can't be a Stuffer Shack could it? This place is far to shiny and bright to be a dispenser of krill-filler and the stuffers you're used to. But no. there's the gleaming signage declaring itself a StufferShack even though the logo is a bit changed from what you're used to. You heard something up them changing it, but you're a little disgusted by this. Who changes something as classic as the fraggin StufferShack logo?

Silas gives a loud whoop on seeing where Eclipse's directions had brought the time. He likes this guys style. Unfortunately, the guard who had just been cheerful waving hello to a homely woman with her kid in tow turns a bit sour as he spots the logo on the side of the van. He adjusts his posture and steps out in front of the door as he catches a glimpse of painted clown face past the windshield.

Meanwhile, Eclipse jumps out the side door of the van opposite the StufferShack. Promising to be back in a few with his gear, he leaves the LMG in TundraWolf's capable hands while retaining the long trench coat to better conceal what he brings back. It's not exactly the type of thing that fits in with this neighborhood of pastel colored polo wearing douches. But as long as he's quick about it, he shouldn't attract too much attention.

The whole situation has him a bit more paranoid than usual. He keeps catching himself glancing over his shoulder to make sure he's not being followed and there's a hitch in his step every time a new car comes into view. He starts deriding himself. He's being totally unprofessional. There's no way Horizon could have already caught up to them or found out where his place is at, right?

Wait, what's that noise? He spots a helicopter flying low in from the direction of downtown. Shit, shit, shit....that better not be a Horizon chopper, he thinks to himself. He starts quicken his pace as heads towards a random building for some cover. If he didn't know better he'd say that helicopter was on a beeline right towards his apartment complex!

As the sweat starts to freeze onto his forehead in the chill wind, the helicopter is close enough for him to make out details about it. Details like the big SK logo on the tail fin. Damn, he never thought he'd have a sigh of relief to see a Saeder Krupp helicopter. But at least it's not Horizon already on their asses.

Still, better not dally here. He quickly got back to walking down the street to his apartment. Arriving there, he does a 'casual' walk about to see if he can spot anything unusual. Nothing so far seems to have disturbed the pleasant facade that he's grown so familiar with. He gets a few odd looks from half remembered neighbors that out on their own errands, but nobody questions him or even acknowledges that they know him. Typical Bellevue, wanting to ignore anything that doesn't fit their little imaginary world where everything is sunshine and rainbows...

Eventually, he's as assured as he's going to be. He walks up to the building's door and it beeps acknowledgement of his authorized commlink. A soft click unlatches the door. Walking past the threshold, he can feel the shift from pleasant face to the unpleasant reality. No matter how many air freshners that cheap bastard of a land lord hangs in the entry way, he can still always smell the hint of rotting wood in this place.

Heading past the perpetually broken elevator, Eclipse starts climbing the stairs to his 12 floor apartment. The only person he encounters is a 9 year girl from 9C. "Nice trench dude," she says with derisive attitude far exceeding her age. What's wrong with this world that steals the innocences of youth so early? Whatever, not his problem.

His front door is exactly as he left it....

[O'Ryan]

Friday, ~22:00; Clown Bus just inside Bellevue
Disposable Commlink: Active | SIN (rating 4) Dr James Earnest

Eclipse nods to Mr White's words. "That's a good point. Give me just a couple minutes and we can hit the road again. Ah... I only have ammo for holdouts and submachine guns. If you chummers want anything else, I think this place'll sell to you if you have a licence. Keep the LMG safe!"
With that, he steps off the clown bus, hikes up the collar of his borrowed and oversized coat, and makes his way to his apartment by way of side streets and a few too many left turns. As he walks his hand again dips into the commlink pocket, this time flipping the switch from "hidden" to "active." Should stop random security drones from exploding him! Even so, he's cautious, as is best to do when adding a megacorp to the already too big list of entities gunning for you. Don't mind him, just a doctor... There's a brief moment of panic as a helicopter flies overhead, but by the time the shock of "I'm going to die!" has worn off, it's been identified and left. Even so he takes a moment to pause and force himself to collect his breath and loosen the grip on his holdout. Not that it would have done much good against a helo, but..

He's almost back to feeling like himself while climbing the stairs when a little girl accosts him. He sighs - really? There's another pause before he asks: "You up on your measles shots? I'll ask your mum later..."

Commlink is waved at his door when he finally arrives to unlock it, and opened with a nudge from his shoulder. Once the door's closed and locked, Eclipse goes through habitually clearing the apartment for boogeymen and Ghosts. From there it's to the closet to throw a pile of freshly folded boxers and socks on the ground and reveal his stashed duffel bag. Armor is doned, SMG slung over his shoulder, and spare magazines and grenades loaded into the tactical vest. The borrowed coat from Silus is then thrown back on and buttoned up, relying on the extra bulk on an orc-sized coat concealing the weapons of a malnourished elf. As an afterthought, he grabs a reflective vest and his motorcycle helmet while sending off a quick text to the group.
<<have ride here u want give address when i drop off presnt 4 nephew???>> He thinks for a moment, and then adds: <<or ride with u??>>
From there, it's a quick trip back to the bus once he has his answer, though he's still sure to move quickly and avoid the lights, changing his commlink back to hidden and his running ID.

[ChromeZephyr]

22:41, Two blocks from Tundra Wolf's apartment; Tacoma

It wasn't hard to find a shadowy area to park the clown truck in this part of the 'plex. Tundra Wolf left the Ingram with Eclipse, not wanting to even risk running into one of the infrequent KE patrols. It would be just my luck tonight, he thought. For a wonder the 'lift in the lobby of the apartment tower was working, though after waiting a couple minutes for it to trundle down from the 18th floor Nikolai lost patience with it and opted for the stairs.

He paused before he punched in the last number in the apartment's keypad, listening intently for any sounds through the comically thin door. No sounds came from within, at least any that he could hear over the herd of 6- and 7-year old children screaming in the unit next to his. If I wasn't planning on moving after tonight, I would be now. He took the sleek, matte-black Viper from it's holster, then punched the last number in. The lock LED flickered green for a second, then went blank as the door unlatched.

It took only a moment to clear the tiny apartment. He kept the lights off, relying on memory and the low-light enhancement of his cybereyes to find what he needed afterwards. He changed out of the suit and into more fitting attire for the evening: urban camouflage cargo pants and a black collarless shirt. The newly-enhanced armor jacket clicked into place over it, then he pulled his battered Russian Army surplus duffel out and began loading it. A tactical vest, the helmet matching his armor jacket, two each of the smoke and gas grenades, the low-light mini-flashlight, earbuds and subvocal mic, and his gas mask went in with practiced placement. Two magazines of Ex-EX magazines for Mishka, a single magazine of the same for the Predator. We have work tonight, old comrades. Mishka went in last, the freshly-loaded magazine of APDS ammo locked into the magwell. The Viper was snugged back into it's concealed holster in the small of his back, then the combat holster for the Predator was locked in place on his hip, and lastly his old, well-used combat blade went into the side of his boot.

He dropped the Ikon in the locking cabinet he had taken Mishka from, already ruing the cost of having one of Andropov's hackers re-secure it after tonight's botched extraction. The Clip would have to suffice until he could get it replaced, poor as it was. He took a slug from the last bottle of vodka he'd managed to bring over with him, the clear burn in his throat muting the throb of his head a little. He contemplated another, then opted to fill the dented steel flask he kept next to it instead, dropping it into one of the cargo pockets. He paused before opening the door again, this time to set the mirrored lens covers over his cybereyes, then left his apartment to return to the van.

CMT Clip: Hidden | SIN: Sergei Zharov

Tundra Wolf stepped up into the van, sliding the bag under his legs as he sat down. He took the Smartgun back from Eclipse and snapped the first magazine of subsonic ammo into it, then placed the extra magazine and the half-emptied SnS magazine for it on top of the duffel. "If the strike teams come now, I will be ready for them."

[Slacker]

As the team follows a short way behind Eclipse's bike, Mr. White's commlink quietly beeps the receipt of a message...

SPOILER IS FOR MR. WHITE'S EYES ONLY PEOPLE

[ Spoiler ]

You don't recognize the LTG number that sent you the message. On opening the message you are greeted by the face of a young asian man. “Hi, got your number from an acquaintance. Hope you don’t mind. I paid him well for it if that makes you feel better. I know you are going to meet with the Draco Foundation. What I don't know is why?” He smiles sweetly and continues, “I want to know the real score. Tell me, and I’ll make your cred rise. 2,500¥.”

[Dak]

spoiler for Slacker.

[ Spoiler ]

Mr. White types a message in reply. "I don't mind you contacting me. However, I don't know who you are. You seem to know quite a bit about me. Information is expensive, and sometimes dangerous. No thanks."

[Slacker]

Spoiler for Mr. White

[ Spoiler ]

"My apologies. I be your forgiveness for such a discretion. Let me introduce myself. I am Lin Yao Chang and I represent somebody that is interested to learn what the Foundations' interest in this....lets just say person of interest since you likely already know to be cautious with names. My employer would be grateful for the knowledge. His favor would be QUITE benificial to someone in your line of work."

[Dak]

spoiler for Slacker.

[ Spoiler ]

He types a response- "I and my associates are helping a friend find work. Think of it as headhunting, or placement. It may be that Draco is interested in employing our friend, and helping with our finder's fee."

Is this person's name familiar?

[Slacker]

Spoiler for Mr. White:

[ Spoiler ]

Considering his knowledge skills, Mr. White's eyes bulged at the announcement of this guys name. Lin Yao Chang is a name you don’t come across very often. Chinese and an elf, works for the Eastern Great Dragon Lung. Reserved, quiet,seems like a calculating guy. Stays under the radar real well.
"No, I already knew all that. The Foundations wouldn't be interested in that alone. If you tell me, I will give you 3000 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) ”

[Dak]

Mr. White blinks a few times at his comlink.

To the others in the vehicles he says, "It seems that a dragon is curious as to why we are headed to talk to Draco. He knows that we're headed to Draco, and offers to pay for information about why we're headed to Draco. I presume he's more interested in that book than in our friend here."

[Severus Snape]

At the mention of dragons, Needle removes her AR glasses so she can focus on one task instead of trying to talk and look at the Matrix at the same time.

"Um, I'm sorry - did you say DRAGON? A dragon just called you up and told you that he's interested in why we're heading to another foundation linked to dragons?"

Needle blinks several times, shaking her head, trying to clear the fog that is now setting in.

"Which dragon? And what do we know about him? Or, rather, do you want me to dig up any information on him...her...it...whatever they prefer to be referred to as?"

[Mach_Ten]

23:01 - Carpark @ Pier 60 restaurant. Seattle

Silas Stirs from his short slumber as the trucks wheels go from smooth tarmac to the gravel of the carpark.

He Blinks once, tries to comprehend the facts as they are given to him as regards Dragons, blinks again and says

"Wells Chummers, it's been nice knowing yous ..I fink we are Fragged though!"

He shrugs his shoulders in acceptance and starts to put on the clown costume for the second time, rooting through boxes in the back of the van for streamers and balloons and other fun stuff
that he wishes he had as a kid at some of his birthday parties

"Mr. Talky man can waltz in dere' but we is gonna need somefink more... jenny sez craps! ... I don't fink da machine guns will fits in dese pants though! Tiny can I borrows the hand cannon ?"

[Dak]

Mr. White nods his head. "I don't know what this book is that Mr. Acson has in his possession, but I am beginning to suspect that he is not the item of value here." He glances at Needle. "An agent of the dragon. Dragon's name is Lung." he stops and thinks for a moment. "I wonder how much they know. He's contacted me, so it seems clear that he knows - or at least suspects that we have Mr. Acson and the book. Offering to pay for information about it seems to tip his hand, letting on that it's important to them." he shrugs.

Gesturing at the comlink in his other hand, he asks "So, are we ready to deal with a dragon?"

[O'Ryan]

Friday, 22:50; Clown Bus just inside Bellevue
Disposable Commlink: Hidden | SIN (Criminal) Adam Plisken

Eclipse rests on his bike a block back from the clown bus. He's on the "barely" side of inconspicuous as it is, being liked with a van full of presumed sideshow attractions certainly wouldn't help. He takes his "job" seriously though, adding the Ingram X he's handed to the duffel bag of goodies slung over his shoulder. At some point, I should invest in saddlebags. To cover up the waiting he pulls his phone yet again from his pocket and begins fiddling - with luck, anybody who sees him will assume he's looking up either directions or captioned cats. Nobody should suspect his dark secret... tetris.
He almost doesn't catch Tundra Wolf making his way back. Just in time his phone is holstered. His bike lurches to life with a barely muffled roar, carrying him easily to the side to the van. His right arm waves in exaggerated gestures of annoyance, while left deftly hands over the Ingram X. His eyes linger on the Russian surplus bag o' goodies, but he doesn't comment.
"Excellent. Meet y'all at the docks? I'll let you know if I see anything fishy."
Eclipse sticks around for a second to wait for replies (and to finish off his gesturing for the benefit of any observers) before returning both hands to his bike and racing off for the docks to search for the expected trap.


Friday, 23:10; Pier 60 "You Eat Too Much" restaurant carpark
Disposable Commlink: Hidden | SIN (Criminal) Adam Plisken

Eclipse rolls up to the carpark and swears. Somehow he'd gotten it in his head there'd be a nice line of buildings on the waterfront he could easily climb and spy from. The fact of the matter - a lone building at the end of a pier with a single walkway to approach - was enough to send his heart drooping into his stomach. Fantastic way to ambush them, if that was the goal: line the pier with C4 and just wait. Eyes scan the crowd lingering outside the restaurant, and a little bit of hope returns.
<<dont see nething yet. crowd, lots of collateral dmg if prsnt, bad pr. will keep updated>>
Blissfully unaware of the looming threat of capital-d Dragon, Eclipse stuffs his hands into his pocket to keep them warm while he waits for the clown bus to arrive. Half his attention rests on the queue outside You Eat Too Much, while the other half is devoted to the water. A nice stolen speedboat would help a lot if this goes south...

[Kiirnodel]

Gardner gives a small groan as he pushes himself up to lean over the arm of the front passenger seat in the van. "What exactly did this agent of a dragon ask and offer?" he turns to look over the group, focusing first on Mr. White. "If whatever special information Mr. Acson here has locked up is as important and as secret as it seems to be, I doubt the offer is enough to warrant sending out even more data trails..."

Gardner's eyes settle on Silas as he attempts to put on the ridiculous costume, "what are you doing? We're heading to a meet with a fixer of mine, and Mr. White's and Tundra Wolf's for that matter. We don't need a distraction, or a disguise, or any of the attention you would attract wearing that getup... Anyone who likes can come in, this is a public place. But the goal is to keep a relatively low profile..." Gardner shifts back into the seat as he turns back toward the road, "for that matter, make sure we park off to the side of the lot. We don't want this garish van to be front and center either."

[Dak]

Mr. White nods his head at Gardner. "The person who sent me a message is known to work for Lung, and claims to be 'representing someone'. He could be doing his own thing, but I have no reason to believe that he's not acting on behalf of his benefactor. He specifically wanted to know why we were headed to meet with Draco, and offered cash for the information." Mr. White shrugs. "I won't claim to understand the intrigues of dragons, or those associated with them. This could present a complication, or it could be an opportunity."

Mr. White picks at some lint on his coat and runs a comb through his hair as he prepares to go and meet with Moreau. He's still unarmed, his pistol presumably still in someone's pack.

[Slacker]

Mr. White steps out of the van straightening his the now wrinkled coat as best he could. Rappelling down the side of a building is terrible on such fine fabric. Leading the others through the parking lot, down the pier's walkway, he makes his way past the civil, if chaotic, crowd outside to the front desk.

A comically cheerful smiley face pops into his AR vision upon entering the building. In a faux chinese script, it speech balloon says <<Welcome to You Should Not Eat So Much. Current wait time is 1:43:23. Would you like to add your name to the list?>>

Ignoring the digital hostess, he walks up to the real world hostess who smiles not nearly as comically though just as routine. "We are not currently seating anybody sir. I can add you to our guest list though. How many in your party, sir?"

Seeing all too well that the smile is hiding how tired the hostess is of people trying to bluster their way to getting a seat quicker, Mr. White smiles back at her. "Thank you. That won't be necessary. I believe our party has already arrived, Mr. Moreau is expecting us to join him presently."

"Ah, yes. We've been expecting you." She points across the open layout of the restaurant. "His booth is right over there in the back. Would you like me to escort you?"

"No need to take you away from your duties here, madam. We can make our way to him on our own," he says confidentally.

"Very well. As you can see, plates and bowls are available at the buffets. A waitress will be by your table soon to take your drink orders."

With that, the group of shadowrunners pass by her without another thought. They make their way to Moreau's table.

"Ah, you are here," Moreau says with a nod for you to sit down at his booth.

[Kiirnodel]

Gardner motions for Acson and the others to sit and stands beside the table, "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," he gives a slight smile before returning to business. He motions to Acson "allow me to introduce our new hiring potential. He wished to discuss possible employment with you."

Gardner stands for a few more moments before quickly excusing himself for a moment before retrieving one of the reinforced, troll-sized chairs from the back of the room.

[Slacker]

"So, this is Parker Acson? The Horizon arcanoarcheologist, right?" Moreau looks the man up and down with an appraising eye. “Prior exploits of your 'friends' here go you this meeting, but that's only going to get you so far in life. Remind me why I should want to meet you? You just skipped out on Horizon. Why do I want a piece of that drek?”

Parker Acson is taken back a little by the cold, calculating tone of Moreau's voice. He nervously glances at the runners around him in some vain attempt at support. The glares and dirty looks he's getting as they see all their efforts and the shit storm he's brought down on them being for nothing, spurs him forward even more than anything Moreau could have said. He blurts out "The Thaljun Cordex!"... a little too loudly.

Glancing around the team notices a few patrons at nearby tables looking over at the crowded booth. But then there is a LOUD clearing of a throat in the booth next to Moreau's. A troll with a large duffle bag is sitting there glaring at the people until they sheepishly turn away to duck their heads back towards their full plates of food. That done, the troll pats his duffel bag and smiles satisfactorily.

Moreau ignores the antics of his backup. "What was that you said?"

Embarrassed by his outburst so early in negotiations. He leans into to continue in a more discreet voice, "I'm certain you've heard of my promising skills. But even more than that I have something I know your Foundation will be interested in...I was able to copy the Thaljun Cordex from Horizon's restricted library."

"Now that is something we would be interested in," says Moreau as he leans back against the booth. "You have this on you, I presume?"

Smiling, Acson continues settling into a more assured posture of his own. "You can assume that the Cordex is safe. Now how about we talk about my future within the Draco Foundation?"

“Your defection? Right, we got that covered. The Draco Foundation knows the short path to success, you scan?” Turning to the team of runners, Moreau addresses them. "It seems you have done well to bring this man to our attention. I am willing to offer each of you gentlemen 10,000 for your efforts and your discretion. Should this be satisfactory, you can bring him and the Cordex to me at the Kobe Terrace Park later tonight."

[Dak]

"That seems like a fair offer, thank you. As I expect it to be a long evening, do you mind if we contact you again to confirm our arrangement?"

[Slacker]

Moreau nods knowlingly, "Good luck with your other negotiations. You have my number." With that, he stands to leave, nearly instantly mirrored by the troll in the next booth over.

[Dak]

Having completed their business, Mr. White begins to stand, but then glimpses the looks on his companion's faces.

"Ahh, Mr. Moreau, I apologize for my oversight. There have been a few, ah, complications along our way, and while your offer is generous, it would be well received if you were flexible with your proposal. Additionally, your offer would look better compared to other potential offers..."

He is mighty convincing. His hair and mustache are immaculate, his suit is elegant, and his smile and handshake could seemingly convince a go-gang to help undertake some charity work.

[Slacker]

Moreau looks down at the seat Mr. White as he's leaving, gives a dry laugh that has no merth to it, and replies "Complications is putting it delicately. Perhaps you should have found the worth of your package before going in? Whatever. I consider 500 more each more than reasonable for your...complications. Do not disturb me again, unless it is to confirm our appointment in the park."

With that he leaves with his troll friend following closely. As he nears the exit, another patron stands up from a table and joins the troll in step behind Moreau as they depart.