2075: 86ing the 88s Options

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:08 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #130

John's grin turned into a decidedly evil version (66/f):
"Failsafe... Yeah I've got one of those. Dropped it on an exec, made it look like an accident.
Oh I can kill my "masters" easy peezy. But don't worry: I rarely kill people who treat me with respect or take care not to annoy me. Really, I'm a total softy at heart or rather core processing unit.

And just for your information. I'm not an it, I'm a he. Both in mind and body. And let me tell you: This body has all the latest features the S-K drone division had in stock.

So, now that that's out, let's start this again:

Hi my name is John. Do you have a name or should I just call you Redshirt and think of you as an unimportant non-player-character."

[mister__joshua]

Jan
Monday, 25 November, 16:08 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

Jan was leaning up against the wall. He'd found the whole interaction far too entertaining to intervene, but now there was business to attend to.

"Enough posturing ladies, we got shit to do. John, this is Al. He's a redneck bumpkin, but he's got a steady hand and he's usually far enough away that the smell doesn't bother you. Al, this is John. He's a ghost or some crazy shit like that, but his drone is kick-ass and he enjoys murder and destruction like all good pissed-off teenagers. Now let's hug it out and get on with what we're here to do"

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:08 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #131

"With pleasure. As soon as you tell me who or what you want to have murder-destroyed and/or destroy-murdered"

[Aria]

Glo
Monday, 25 November, 22:23; Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex

Time to go… a few moments before Glo had shed her clothes, wrapping them carefully and stuffing them under a dumpster a couple of alley ways over from the rear entrance to the casino. An emergency set was also stashed in the box on her scooter in case she couldn’t make it back here. Ignoring the winter chill and prickle of Seattle rain she checked the pouch attached to her thigh and the action on the snub nosed sub machine gun. With a thought she engaged the ruthenium polymers woven throughout her skin, and on the surface of her gun and the thigh pouch, and was rendered effectively invisible…

With a slow jog, avoiding puddles that might alert someone to her presence, she ducked towards her target. Then it was a matter for waiting under shelter for one of the kitchen hands to come out and deposit kitchen waste into the dumpsters behind the casino. Hopefully nobody would notice the extra two seconds the door was restrained as Glo slipped inside the busy kitchen.

After briefly shaking any water off Glo set off for the service areas of the casino, dodging busy kitchen staff and taking care not to disrupt anything on worktops. Once again pausing by the door to follow a harried staffer through into the rest of the back of house she began her run, following the AR map image to the likely location of the offline server that Silk had provided her with.

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 16:08 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

"Well explainin' that's percisely what ol' Al come here ta do. But first things first," the unshaven little man said, eyeing the robot cautiously and his friend doubtfully. "Amigo, you done said this were a damned drone. Now he's a ghost, fer pity's sake, which I'll allow deserves a modicum o' greater respect than a drone, but not much."

Al turned to John, and for the first time addressed him directly as he leaned his weight against a wall and slid to a seated position on the floor, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "So jist sayin' fer a minute yer not some high-end program mimicin' conversation, well, I'm listenin'. You one o' them full-body jobs, jist a brain in there, an' maybe or maybe not yer soul? Or am I talkin' through a VR feed to a feller sittin' inna pod somewhere, done took the whole 'bein' the machine' concept a wee bit too far?"

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:09 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #132

John shrugged: "I used to be an anthro drone rigger. Some time ago I was hit by a technomancer with some bad mojo that killed my body off. Since then I'm a ghost in the machine as they say. Allegedly I've got some faint aura, which according to some witches or mages means that I'm not just a program.
Frankly, I don't give a damn.

Cogito ergo sum - or in my case "I think, therefore I want some fun kicking ass."

And before you ask: No, I'm no hacker. I'm not even a particularly good driver, but I'm an outstanding anthro drone rigger."

[mister__joshua]

Jan
Monday, 25 November, 16:09; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

"See, drone" Jan said, as if justifying his earlier comments.

"In the most basic terms, we're making a play on the 88's Triad. They have a contract out on us both following a recent run..." Jan looked around the shell that had been his temporary home "...and I'm done with sleeping in places like this."

"What we'll need to do is figure where the 'hit' came from and end it. I don't know how high that'll take us up the ladder, but I'm guessing it won't be an easy climb."

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:09 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #133

"Ah, I see. Sounds like fun. After that we can take on the Yakuza, so I have the complete set.

But let me get that straight: You both were spotted by the Triads and they know your names?

I see two obvious solutions for your predicament:
1) Kill them all
2) Find the immediate rival of your opponent within the triads and offer him to off the guy in return for an amnesty.

Finding out who wants you dead is just a matter of catching one of your would-be killers alive and gently persuade them through bodily harm to tell you who hired him.
Or do you already have a lead on them?"

[mister__joshua]

Jan
Monday, 25 November, 16:09; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

"We don't have a lead yet" Jan paused to take another cigarette from Al. He didn't normally smoke, but it helped him think.

"Option 1 is cleaner, but Al got a fixer to pull some intel and the 88's are a big player. Probably too many of them to eliminate. Option 2 is less fun, but the all-round better move by my thinking. We have nothing on that front though. We wouldn't just need leads on who wants us, but also on his rivals, their internal politics." He took a longer drag. "Work."

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:09 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #134

John nodded: "Yeah, but the beauty of that system is that if you get bored with option 2) you always can just switch to option 1) .
I'm game for both approaches.
So Al, what do you have - besides the obvious I mean..."

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 16:10; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

Al listened to everything John had to say, and had made up his mind before the guy was done talking. Twice. The first time was when he'd written the guy off as an arificial intelligence out for its jollies in an anthroform. That would mean it was nothing but a non-sentient bit of circuits with survival imperatives in its programming that drove it to do whatever it had to to survive, including some very clever mimicry of the humans it needed to do that. and all without ever a conscious thought or ounce of self-awareness.

The play would be to make best possible use of the thing, and that would mean playing along with its game, the better to convince it of acceptance and then manipulate it to his ends.

But then he'd gotten to the point about the Satanists. Al didn't associate himself with devilry, but he knew that witch-sight didn't get a read off of AIs. And if it was some poor sod's soul in there, then he was one of the Good Lord's children, a brother in this lonely passage through this benighted orb's vale of tears.

So he decided to go with that. And if it was all some clever AI's ploy to win his trust, then he'd tip to it soon enough and be in a better position to flip back to plan A.

He looked at Jan. "Work's okay. Sweat o' yer brow, kemo sabe, sweat o' yer brow. Blame Eve. Here's all the crap I got off'n Silk." Not wanting the intel to broadcast beyond this basement, he limited the broadcast to his PAN for them to retrieve, then shut it off. "Well, Johnny baby," and here Al stood to answer his new coworker's question, extending his hand in an attempt at a re-do of their initial meeting, "Reckon I'm thinkin' cash. Oh, I like Options 1 an' 2, lke both of 'em. But we's gittin' ahead of ourselves. Neither option gits us paid, an' not jist that, we may need some cash ta run this deal. Reckon we are takin' on a big ass OC outfit, jist the three of us. So they's this one Chink casino, turns out keeps a shedload o' cash on site. Well, reckon they all do, but piecin' together bits an' bobs, I reckon they's gon' move it within the next few days. So I'm thinkin' we kick off with that. Hurts the bastards, an' shames 'em ta boot. Nice productive use of our time while we suss out Option 2. Hell, idle hands an' all that...thought we might start casin' the place right away, today...."

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:09 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #135

"Mhm, I like option 3. Getting nuyen is better than looting the corpses. I'm game for that. Let's go there and have a look.
Who knows, maybe we get lucky and break the bank.
In any case I think I'll order a small cask of grenades for that - target rich environment and all that."

John smiled again. This promised to get even more entertaining than he expected - and more lucrative.

"Let's do a drive by first so we can get a sense of escape routes and lines of fire."

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 16:10 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

"Like the way ya think, hombre. Ever'body got they own rides? Reckon it's better that way, but anyone wants a lift, there's that too."

As they started to file out, Al added, "So reckon they's already after us, but they git it in they heads we's comin' after 'em, might ta turn up the heat. An' push comes ta shove, they ask around, the eye-ties'll connect me ta this here hole inna ground. Things go south, got me a sterile storage unit." Al savored using words he'd heard on Tales of the Red Samurai. He flashed them the location and the lock's code. "Mind when ya go in, though. Left some rattlers in there, jist as a welcome ta any unwanted guests. They mostly keep ta theyselves, jist mind ya don't step in any dark corners. Might poke the cot afore ya set on it. An' you, mi metallic amigo, you be careful too. Don't want my babies breakin' any teeth."

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 16:11 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex #136

"I just wanted to offer you the same. My ride has a top notch valkyrie module and a neat little scrip that allows me to park where ever I like and drive on otherwise closed roads thanks to the magic of being a first responder vehicle.
Of course now that I'm looking at the street maps, I realize that Chinatown around that casino seems to be mainly bicycles and pedestrians. So it might not be the subtlest plays of observations if we ride in and park square across three handicap spaces, so to speak.

And as for snakes: Nice. I like snakes but the manufacturer of this skin suit warns against snake venom as it could dissolve the realistic looking protein based skin mesh. So I'll be careful, promise. Don't want to look like a zombie... again."
John replied.

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 16:11 pm; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

"Roger roger. Truck's no good. What say we jist move our rides clear o' this block, seein' as it's got a bullseye painted on. Ain't but a short walk down there from here, me an' Jan can jist hoof it - separately, o' course - Johnny could bring his magical-parkin'-ride closer in, jist in case we gotta didi mau real quick-like. Be innerestin' ta see if our faces git any reaction onna street down there - let us know if they got all they soldiers onna lookout for us, or if they's jist subcontractin'. An' if it's all the factions or not."

As he got into his truck to move it a few blocks closer, he added, "Reckon ol' Al'll scope the entrances fer a spell. See what comes an' goes asides tourists an' chumps. One o' you suave motherfuckers might wanna take a stroll inside, git a look-see."

[Mercy]

Monday, 25 November, 22:40; Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex


Glo finds that progress through the kitchen takes just a bit more care than she had expected due to the high volume of foot traffic in and out as well as the sheer number of people on staff in the kitchen area. Bustling chefs, sous chefs, pastry chefs, and their assistants are busy with preparing the twenty-four hour buffet the casino is famous for as well as meals for the higher-end restaurant on the second floor and the room service requests that come from the rooms reserved for the high roller guests. No one is paying particular attention to her in this area, but there is a very real danger of coming into contact with a moving cart or waiter carrying a tray of food out into the casino.

Once she slips through the door into the main casino area, she almost instantly recognizes that something is a bit off. An armed man wearing the uniform of the casino security staff is standing next to the door she has just come through, his eyes scanning the main floor. He is clearly quite alert for a man several hours into a normally boring shift.......and he should not be standing here in the first place. Quickly moving to the side to avoid a waiter returning to the kitchen, Glo is able to put her back to the wall in an out of the way place and take careful stock of her surroundings. From her vantage point, she can see a good bit of the main casino floor and the buffet line. The bells and whistles and neon lights of the casino seem to be as busy as ever, with a mix of tourists and local Chinese trying to make the big score off the house and failing. From her earlier recon ans well as publicly available maps of the casino, Glo knows that the tables for roulette, blackjack, and craps are located just around the corner from where she is and the poker tables are off to the left. She notices that there is an expanded security presence in the casino; the guards are walking about in pairs instead of the normal single man patrols and the total she can count is greater than the entire shift that should be on duty at this time of night.

Bending forward slightly, she can see the elevator bank that takes players and hotel guests to the upper floors and the private elevator that is said to whisk special guests straight to the penthouse suite of the owner of the casino, Fu Shing. There are two hotel security men standing at the bank of public elevators and no less than four men in dark suits standing near the private elevator. These four men are not wearing hotel uniforms, but they are very much security of some kind and are armed with very business-like SMGs in addition to the customary side arms. All of the guards Glo can see seem to be on some sort elevated alert status.

Something is not right....................

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 17:03 pm; across the street from Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex #137

John hadn't waited any longer after that. Exchanging comm codes was all he did before he left the building again that might or might not be bugged, observed or already rigged to explode.
He wasn't at all sure about the small man, but if a surly motherfragger like Jan took the man's help Al certainly had to have hidden depts. Or hidden debts. At the very least it wouldn't be boring.

Once he had reached Chinatown he had carefully navigated the emergency road to one of the few parking spaces. He activated the ARO that indicated he was on patient care duty and left the Morgan. When he came within 50m of the casino he noticed the first lurking Triad: A pair of youths sharing a nic-stick and posing with their rubbish tattoos. John passed them, but marked them on his internal map. There was a small noodle stand across the casino that had to have some pretty special fare, as the queue had a significant length. John got in line and started to ramp up his sensors, using the laser mic to listen in on every available glass surface within 100 m. He had nearly reached the front when he found what he was looking for. Right across the casino on the second to last floor was a room with someone inside using a micro-transceiver giving a status report. It was pure luck that he had caught the message - well not pure luck. John had known that the casino must have a sniper nest or two. And since any decent decker would sooner or later find wireless enabled gear, they needed to have it off but still be able to communicate. So he had tuned the spacial recognizer to the tell tale "blib" a micro-transceiver made to indicate an incoming message.

John faked getting a call and stepped out of the queue, wandering away, across the bike lane. John had to admit the snipers were professionals. They didn't talk or eat or anything else beside breathing that he could catch on the mic.
Which probably meant that those guys got regular relieve. At least every four hours, but if the Chinese knew their business rather three. More than that and you needed drugs to stay focused without any form of stimulation - which was of course entirely possible.

He changed positions and went away from the casino, compiling a little info dump for his new teammates.

[mister__joshua]

Jan
Monday, 25 November, 17:15; International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

Jan didn't know what to do with himself. The role of 'fixer' didn't sit easily with him. Organiser, leader, call it what you will he felt like a spare part. He was an elf of action.

It made sense for John to scope the place out. He wasn't known to the target, and he could handle himself should anything happen. Jan, well, he was known to the target. Very known. A casino run by the bastards probably wasn't the best place to hang about.

...now he thought about it he wasn't overly sold on the casino plan. He wanted to draw a line under his bounty. That meant killing people in high places. The casino seemed an unnecessary distraction, but the money would be nice for covering John's services at least. For now though he was back in this kak-hole he'd never intended to return to. At least it was close to the target should he need to respond.

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 2027; Alley behind Bright Path Casino, International District, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex

Al had enjoyed the walk down the hill to Chinatown. He'd kept to smaller streets and lanes and passageways because they were playing good guys and bad guys today and it wa fun to be all sneaky. Once down near the casino, he'd spotted Johnny lined up for noodles at Happy Fortune across from the front of the place, so he'd kept walking for a while and ended up in an alley behind the place. Not right behind it, but behind it and then just across the street. Some street trash had a craps game going there, and he had a straight view all along the rear of the casino.

As long as he shared cigarettes and lost as much as he won, the kids didn't mind him hanging around. A quick run to a nearby Stuffer had produced a bottle of cheap whiskey, which he also shared around with his new friends when I got tired of dice, and pretty soon he was not only noting the deliveries and so forth out the back of the place, but also hearing about the full routine from his boon companions.

Reclining on a sheet of moldy cardboard feeding bits of his soyrito to a couple of rats and listening to these guys shoot the shit, Al decided he might let a few of these 88 yahoos live, just to express his gratitude for such a lovely evening.

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 20:30 pm; around Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex #138

John had moved on looking for more sentries. So far he had found only four more gaggles of street kids - although he had to admit they were placed quite strategically. At least the Triads didn't have more sniper nests - at least that he could find.
While he did that, he had been asked to take care of three stab wounds, a bad cough and one allergic reaction - paid cash. It seemed that few street docs were prepared to do business in the Triad territory and John found out soon why: He just had left another flat - he had taken the opportunity to look out the window to get another, clearer look on the small office of the money lender with his two troll guards - when two thugs he had noticed before stepped into the corridor, barring him exit.
In broken English they told him: "You new here. You do business, you pay tax. You give money."
John decided not to reveal that he could understand Mandarin. So he replied in English: "How much is this tax?"
The answer came promptly: "You new here. You give all money now. You want work here, you go Lao Bei. Now give money."
John sighed and complied. It would have been satisfying to just murder the two guys and see if their skin could be made into a disguise, but that would be giving away the game early. And it wasn't as if the thugs could ask to see his books. So instead he pulled out half the cred sticks in his pocket and tossed them to the less intelligent looking of the two.
"You give all money!" The brawny, dumb one advanced to grip his arm and get to his pocket
John took a few steps back and pulled the rest of the sticks out as well as the pocket. "Here, I don't have anymore."
A devious grin now appeared on the talkers face: "You give all stuff you have."

John had enough. He was already calculating timing and angles for his claws to severe the axle artery when suddenly one of the flat doors opened and an old Chinese lady with a large ladle stormed out and began spitting out such a rapid stream of Chinese insults that his translation autosoft couldn't keep up.
Undeterred by their size or strength she began to pummel both with the ladle - and to John's eternal surprise those thugs didn't just snap her scrawny neck but instead quickly retreated down the stairs, firing a few insults of their own.

The relief was only short lived, as the dragon granny grabbed his arm and pulled him into the tiny flat where it turned out that her grandchildren needed antibiotics, her wizened husband had a very inflamed toe nail and also quite a bit of puss leaking from various other parts.
It was past 2030h when he finally left the building and called in another status update:
<<Those Triads have their eye on the money but they aren't very good about keeping repeat business. But I got a name. According to my new contact Dragon Granny a Lieutenant called Lao Bei is managing the street gang members around here. He provides security for the casino and a few other joints in possession of the Triads and otherwise collects protection money from all the businesses around here. His office is above the money lender. He might be one of the people you could squeeze for information.
In other news, I might have accidentally started a health care service.

In any case I'll go into casino now - long workday after all.>>

[Aria]

Glo
Monday, 25 November, 22:23; Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex

Damn! This was getting far more complicated than it was supposed to be! Bloody mobsters and their feuds that were dragging her to this shitty part of Seattle. The mere fact that they thought they could get away with recreating the programme that had created her was testament to their hubris, and Glo intended to make sure they pay for their temerity. But she wasn’t delusional, that wasn’t something she could achieve with a head on assault which is what it would take to reach the elevators and probably the fire escape stairs…at least without a distraction…

Glo released her fly drone from the thigh pouch whilst crouching in a shadowed alcove by some of the slot machines. The little thing couldn’t do much by itself but the tiny incendiary device should be just enough to break the glass bulb on one of the sprinkler heads and set the fire alarm to active. A specially formulated smoke grenade would add some verisimilitude to the ruse. With guests forced to use the stairs she could hopefully seize her moment and her route to the upper floors…failing that it would have to be plan C…and she wasn’t ready to formulate that one just yet.

Of course the guards knew their business and that something was up, but as they were already seemingly on alert for some reason Glo just had to trust that the safety of their clientele would mean they had to treat the fire as real, at least for a brief time…

[Mercy]

OK, there is a slight issue with timing. Glo is at 2230 and the rest of you seem to be a couple of hours earlier. I can do a post for Glo's efforts, but do not want to cut the others out of doing something in that time as they catch up to Glo in time.

My intent is to wait and then post what happens in the casino, if that is alright with everyone?

[Jack_Spade]

John
Monday, 25 November, 22:20 pm; around Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex #139

Getting into the casino proved to be easier than expected: The Triads didn't fully trust technology as it seemed and had instead quite a lot of burly security men ambling around. Having spent the afternoon walking around and making house calls had paid of insofar that he now wasn't exactly a stranger with his medic uniform to the men behind the camera feeds.
John made a beeline for the blackjack table, but didn't bother to play. Ten card packs made card counting a bit tedious and unreliable. At least the dealer seemed to be reasonable honest, dealing the cards as they came.
With a heavy heart John bought a few chips and tried his luck first with the Majong table, only to move from there to every available game, one after the other. In between he "used" the restrooms, visited the restaurant and generally looked at everything available to the public.
He had finished his map around the time his chips ran out.
He compiled his last update before he was going to leave the casino for today:
<<Quite a bit of security around here. The building is not really up to code for fire safety. No emergency exits for one thing. Kitchens might be a viable way in. A lot of electronic money transfer but I counted a few hundred verified credsticks to the tune of around 140.000 Nuyen being moved within the last two hours. At a typical working speed to transfer the money, I'd estimate you'd need around 1 man hour per 20.000 Nuyen. There is a backroom with a very heavy maglocked door behind the chips exchange, but the wall beside it doesn't look nearly as strong, since this building is from the 2030ies - no plastcrete, only old prefab concrete. Nothing a mono saw couldn't handle.
MAD scanner found iron efflorescence behind the wallpaper, indicating structural weakness, especially closer to the ground. The Triads seem to be cutting corners with the maintenance. I couldn't get into the cellar level, but close to the stairs I detected quite a bit of mold smell. All in all you'd need max. around 10kg TNT to bring this whole place down.
There is a secure elevator without matrix access, but with key card and number pad. The stairs are guarded at all times with two guards in front and one in the background. Guard changes follow no pattern I could discern within two hours, but seems to be based mainly on bladder capacity of individual guards.
I'll go and cash in my chips now, meet me at the Stuffershack just outside Chinatown.
Huh? That's weird. Something's happening here...>>

[adamu]

Al
Monday, 25 November, 2223 pm; behind Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex

Al hadn't heard anything from outside quite yet, but when he got the robot's message he got up, muttered something to his new friends about too much whiskey, and made his way down the back alley to where he was in spitting distance of the staff door into the kitchens.

What he'd said hadn't been entirely disingenuous - he promptly uncaged The Elephant and relieved himself into a pile of refuse.

<<Roger roger, Johnny baby. I'm right outside the kitchens, so holler if'n ya need anythin'.>>

[Mercy]

Monday, 25 November, 2223 pm; Bright Path Casino, Chinatown, Seattle Metroplex


John is on his way to the money cage to cash in what remains of his chips. The line is about eight people long, but it seems to be moving as it should. A woman dressed in a loud print dress that shows off way too much of the skin of her more than ample body comes to stand next to him, carrying a small plastic bucket that seems to be brimming with game tokens of the kind John had seen people popping into the slot machines as if their lives depended on it. She steps a bit closer to John and says, "Excuse me. Are you in the line or just near it? I am trying to get these tokens converted to chips. I am winning big tonight and am on a hot roll at the machines so Julie, that is my friend Julie Mertz. We came across from Denver to visit my son and his wife. And let me tell you about that wife. She is such a bit...............hey! What is happening?"

John sees the tellers in the cage step back as some sort of iron panel slides down to close off the cage from the public. John hears the strident tones of what is certainly a fire alarm and the PA system comes to life, interrupting the muzak that has been irritating his ears for the past two hours "Please make your way calmly to the nearest exit. Do not panic." This phrase is repeated over and over, but the effect is less than desired as the casino patrons begin screaming and fleeing as fast as possible to the nearest exits. John loses sight of the sartorially challenged woman as she tries to run away. He may never hear about the bitchy wife of her son and just exactly what her friend, Julie, had said. Darn it. The cage is located out of the major traffic lanes and John is able to watch the flow of people headed to the front door.

Al is near the staff entrance to the kitchen off the alleyway running behind the casino. As he is draining his lizard, the door opens and one of the waitresses comes outside and lights up a nicstick, drawing on the cigarette twice before she even sees him. Her eyes take him in and travel down his body, widening when they get to the elephant. She smiles and nods. "Impressive dick. I am off in an hour and a half. If you are still here, I could give that thing a place to hide if you want to fuck."

The door bangs open and one of the cook staff leans out, yelling in Chinese before he runs out the door and lopes off down the alleyway. Three more of the kitchen staff follow closely behind him. The girl pales and tosses her stick to the ground, grinding on it as she looks around. "Casino is burning down. Fat Triad pigs and tourists will be crushing each other to get out. It looks like I am off as of now so want to go fuck?"

Glo sees her little drone self destruct against the desired sprinkler head, setting off the fire alarm as expected. Suddenly, people are moving everywhere, most of them in a panic, and all are trying to find a door to get outside. From her position, she sees the guard at the kitchen door talk into a comlink then vanish into the crowd. The door opens and a cook sticks his head out then pulls it back in, chattering rapidly in Chinese to the people behind him. General panic seems to be the order of the moment.