Living in the Shadows: IC, your run might be over... Options

[Sedna]

19:06:01 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Daedalus frowns a little. It's Shifty and he trusts her completely, and she'd emphasised the guy was among the best in the business; but how do you explain to Dragon that the way she'd set things up, at this point he's got more of a current connection to Vinnie than she does?

Virgil glances up from his notes, staring at the mercenary through pain-filled eyes: "Ground-pounding, huh? Where are we heading to first?" And then, staring down at his notes again and rubbing his eyes: "And when did we find out that Father Bremen and Jonah were tight?"

[WinterRat1]

19:06:18 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Dragon pauses for a moment. "Drek. You're right. Ugh, call that a jumped to assumption based off...I don't know. Something stupid. OK, well unless anyone has any objections or something better to do, I'm thinking perhaps we should get to this restaurant early and check it out. After all the surprises we've been through, I wouldn't mind the chance to have the advantage of preparation for once."

[Sedna]

19:07:00 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"All in favour?" asks Virgil drily, aware as are they all that this isn't a democracy, not among them. He pulls the cell away from his ear as he does so: at this point he's placed Inleat on temporary speed-dial, and they can all hear the all-too-familiar scratchy recording.

Hey, kid -- and Dragon blinks: he'd really not expected Global to answer that quickly -- is it too late for you to stay away from CorpDeVo?

Dragon doesn't immediately know what to say to this: the old spook-turned-information-broker had never told him to stay away from anything before. It was an old understanding between them, that within their own spheres, each could handle himself. Probably, he concedes at last, ages of transducer time.

A mental sigh. Decoded CorpDeVo accounting files have been making the circuits since yesterday. According to those, they're working on something really nasty, biological. Can't fight a virus, kid, Global finished heavily.

[WinterRat1]

19:07:40 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"Since yesterday? I don't suppose you know when or by whom? I knew they were working on something biological. And since you cracked their accounting files, I have to ask, is 'Corp Devo' their actual name? That's been bugging me just...just because I'd like to know the fragging name, you know?"

They both break out laughing, even though it's really not funny. Sometimes you have to find humor in the little things, keeps you sane.

"Can you tell me anything else about Corp Devo, because right now, we're really turning blanks. Anything and everything you got on them and their files would help a lot. Also, could you keep an eye on maybe who might have an interest in acquiring them? We're thinking that whoever it is, they might be hanging on the fringes, waiting to pick up the pieces if and when Corp Devo goes down in flames. Virus or no virus, I'm stuck in the middle whether I like it or not, so I may as well jump right in and learn everything I can, right?"

[Sedna]

19:07:59 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Wasn't me. The files were already cracked when they started circulating, though they've got CorpDeVo's system fingerprints all over them, along with a databomb. And yes, that is its actual name. It comes from its founders' first names: Deveron Upbright and Vondila Irene Sendor. It never used to be a major player. Heard a rumour Aztechnology was looking to acquire, but I can't say how much truth there is in that.

[WinterRat1]

19:08:05 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"What kind of name is that? Sheesh. Anyway, thanks for the names. Do you have any more info on those names of the founders? In other words, are the founders still players or are they out of the picture? And for what it's worth, I heard the Big A has an interest as well, so you might want to watch that angle. Do you know who circulated the files, and more important, does it look like the files are legit, or is someone perhaps setting Corp DeVo up for a fall?"

[Sedna]

19:08:05 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

African, I think, don't know which tribe. Je-sus, kid, haven't you heard yet of Paris Sendor? Thought everyone your age was all gaga over him.

Now that was more like the Global Dragon remembered. He'd have to ask him what was up, one of these times. The old spy had sounded very unlike himself, that last time. Missed out on that one, Global.

Still in the vengeance biz? It's something Global's never really let off Dragon's case about. No percentage in it, he'd usually add. Best they'd ever gotten to was the kind of truce where both of you tacitly agree not to say anything about it for a shorter or longer period of time. Global always ended up being the one who ended it. Getting the pix is easy, kid, but it's not like they tell you much. Same thing with the official bios. No word on who circulated the files: they just appeared suddenly on Shadowland, databomb and all. Guess a few kiddie-league deckers lost some equipment over that one. Like I said, they've got all the appropriate fingerprints to be what they say they are. If they're not legit, then someone's sure done a good job in cooking them up. There's the usual bunch of amateur analysts working them over, of course -- see what they come up with. Thanks for the heads-up on Aztech. With them in the game, maybe CorpDeVo is being set up for a fall. In this biz, who knows? Watch your back, kid.

[WinterRat1]

19:08:28 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"Should I know who this Paris Sendor is? And no, I'm not 'in the vengeance biz', like you always say. I don't believe in loose ends and I definitely believe in kicking the enemy when they're down. If that guy gets out of the hospital while this job is still on, there's no doubt in my mind we're going to end up going round-and-round again, and I for one would prefer to take him out between rounds, if you know what I'm saying."

"Uh huh." It was clear Global disagreed with him, but then again, they'd always disagreed on this point, so it wasn't likely anything was going to change any time soon.

"One more question. Do you know who owns Corp DeVo? Are they their own bosses or are they responsible to someone higher up? I heard a rumor that the real prize in all this is that the Big A is looking to knock another mega off the top of the food chain. That's strictly unconfirmed info, more along the lines of rumor at this point, but it's something that's worth checking out, because if that info is on the level, then the stakes are starting to get pretty fragging ridiculous."

[Sedna]

19:09:09 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Uh huh. It's like kicking a hydra, kid. You can send him down and out between rounds, but S-K'll only end up hiring another one. Near as I can tell, no one's personally after you, yet; but take this one down like that and you become part of the run dossier for the next team. But it's your choice, of course.

The Voice of Experience. Frag, Dragon really likes the guy, but every so often he just can't let it go. Some professional.

Then again, in his line of work, maybe there isn't ever anything but loose ends?

Paris Sendor -- geez, kid, still can't believe you've never heard of the guy. He's the heir to the CorpDeVo empire and been flaunting it -- been making the entertainment society pages for at least a couple of years, not just local, but NAN, CAS, and even Tir, though that's about CorpDeVo's limit, it's only got the one small branch office there, and they're still in constant negotiation with the princes whether they'll be allowed to expand. Not really multinational though, definitely not Corporate Court league. Like I said, he's the heir -- so near as I can tell they're an indie, but I've never really dug into it too deep. I can try to get that done for you too, Global added with something of a mental growl, if you're okay with outsourcing it.

[WinterRat1]

07:20:10 Saturday, January 7, 2063 - Auburn doss

"Hey listen, I found a lead on Melissa," Blaze's voice comes through. "I don't know how significant it is, but I can't pass it up. It might make me a little late for the meet today, is that ok with you?"

[Sedna]

07:21:00 Saturday, January 7, 2063 - Auburn doss

A little late? Alleycat smiles to herself, half-surprised to find herself in a good mood. I'd pursued those voices, yesterday, and stepped through an astral portal, never even considering when or even whether I'd get back. If things had gone differently, I'd be a lot more than just a little late, and Blaze wouldn't have had the benefit of a heads-up phone call from me first.

"Sure, no problem. I'll let the Star know." She hesitates then, almost too long, her next words catch Blaze already starting to sign off and hang up: "Anything you need from me?"

[WinterRat1]

07:21:20 Saturday, January 7, 2063 - Auburn doss

Blaze hesitates, just a split second. "No, I think I'll be fine going solo on this one. Besides, mostly I just found a guy who might be helpful in tracking down Melissa and might even have a lead on her. It's a meet in a public place, so I don't think there's anything shady happening. Thanks for the offer though."

[Sedna]

07:22:00 Saturday, January 7, 2063 - Anne's doss, Auburn

Will you now? When you called me up at 3 am the previous night to help you drag the waters? And then she shakes her head sharply: You looking to keep your claws tangled in him, or to help him? Or are you just pissed off because you've invested all that money and work into cultivating a resource and now it's looking like all of that's to be tossed away?

But she says only, "Null sheen. You have my number if you need it," and clicks off.

Hmm. She's not been at loose ends at this time of day since ... well, since winter anyway; and after that workout and jog and now the morning ritual she's feeling more alive and awake than she can remember ever being.

It's a bit unnerving.

She explodes into attack against the hanging rice bag, a flurry of kicks and punches until she's dripping with sweat and still she hasn't worked herself into exhaustion. She'd had some solid strikes against Tarq, last night: but he'd quickly noticed that she just hadn't been able to place enough power behind them to make them count. For now, she doesn't care about focussing energy flows, or even too much about technique. She just wants to get her strength back.

Awareness of the impending sunrise brings her up short.

Instantly she drops into the slow stillness of the sun salutation ... and for the first time since she'd become Anne, she completes it in celebration and thanksgiving and gift and sacrifice in the very instant at which it touches the horizon, something bright and indefinable and awake transfixing her with the touch of that single sunbeam, wavering uncertainly through a single, grimy, wall-obscured slit of a window, the only one that exists in Anne's doss.

And then the beam moves on and evaporates.

Alleycat lets herself sink back down from her toes to the flat of her bare feet, shivering a little in the chill air. First, another quick shower, yes: before her muscles can stiffen. Then ... oh, why not? Breakfast! For once, a true, sit-down breakfast as a customer at the Last Drop. Of course, if they happened to have some work for her, that wouldn't hurt either.

Girl, you've just been granted a morning of freedom, and this is what you choose to do with it?

Damn straight.

[Tiredronin]

19:08:00 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Daedalus watches the spectacle of Dragon "talking" through his transducer, quite a scene, seeing a man stare off into space, facial expressions changing every now and then.. bursting out in laughter out of nowhere. A casual onlooker could conclude that he was crazy. Then again some would draw this conclusion about him anyway.

Thankfully Daedalus knew better, behind the cold killer mentality, there was a warmth that Dragon had displayed when interacting with his family that could not be faked.

Of course, he does come from a family heavily invested in cold killers, I mean... thats what we soldiers do... Maybe we are all crazy...

Shaking off his musings, Daedalus starts dialing Shifty's phone number, fully aware that if a casual onlooker were to see him soon, they may draw similar conclusions about his mental status.

[Sedna]

19:08:30 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Oh my God. Joshua? It's not even been a year since the last time you called. Twice in two days: it must be an emergency. And I haven't anything to wear ...

[Tiredronin]

19:08:40 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"Har har PJ, you know next time I see you I really will be taking you out for that dinner."

"Mmm hmm, very likely seeing as how we havin't been in the same town since... I don't even know how long."

"Well, thats why its such an easy offer to make," he says with a grin, "but that doesn't mean I'm not good on it"

"Touche Mr. strategist, I'll be sure to take you up on that. Ok then, whats going on? any cars blowing up lately? I mean.. any others?"

Daedalus was really glad that he had kept in touch with Shifty over the years, her resourcefulness had always amazed him, but even more so he appreciated her company, it reminded him of the happy days of their shared childhood.

"Ok, two things really. First of all, it seems that our friend Vinnie may have a brother named Jonah that we are trying to get in contact with. I know you don't know Vinnie too well, but I was wondering if you would be able to help verify this, and if you knew anything that could help us communicate to Vinnie our good intentions for his brother."

[Sedna]

19:10:02 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

You sure you don't mean a sister, now?

and Daedalus was surprised to feel the flush creeping over his face: Jeez, Peej, that was just the one time! Frag it! How is she always able to do that to me? he thought, but without real heat.

He's only becoming aware that she'd been silent for some time when she's already talking again: You sure, Joshua? He's pegged under Children's Aid as an only child, a runaway. Legit SIN though. Not a whole lot of schooling ... something called "The Open School" ... And before he'd thought to wonder at how quickly she'd pulled all that up, I'd bookmarked him when I referenced him your way, she explains.

He needs to refocus her quickly: he knows how she used to get in libraries, when she'd gone in for one thing and ended up following enough cross-references to get her onto "WhizKids", but completely forgetting what she'd gone in there for in the first place: But nothing about a brother?

Nope. Nothing about family at all. Mother died after the sixth -- no, seventh -- stint in Lone Star rehab. No registered father anywhere I can see. A pause. What's going on, Joshua?

[WinterRat1]

19:09:46 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

"You know, I hate it when you're right." When all else failed, appeals to Dragon's common sense usually worked, and getting himself onto Saeder-Krupp's dossier list was not high on his list of 'ways to stay alive'.

"For now, let's hold off on further digging. Maybe the meet tonight will turn up some more answers, and before I have you running off on some wild chase that might lead nowhere, I'd like to get a clearer picture first. Thanks for the info Global."

"Null sweat kid. Try not to get killed out there, huh?"

"I'll do my best."

And with that, Dragon cut the connection.

Looking over at Daedalus, who was still in conversation with Shifty, Dragon motioned that he was done with his call and after a quick call to another friend to see about securing some mapsofts of the area, he began readying his gear for that night's meet.

[Tiredronin]

19:10:20 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Well, we seem to be having problems finishing up the delivery of the rest of my stuff from Vinnie, I havn't been able to get in touch with him. But we're also looking for a guy named Jonah who is on the run and that we are pretty sure is connected to Vinnie. Our suspicion is that Jonah went to him for protection.

Daedalus continues, I'm not too clear on the precise details but I think we are the good guys, and that our finding this Jonah is important for some greater good. You know how Virgil is. he remarks as he looks over to his heroic yet still-suffering friend. So tonight we're going to try finding Vinnie at a resturant of his, to conclude the delivery, and hopefully get a lead on getting in touch with Jonah.

Trusting that his explaination was sufficient, and seeing that Dragon was just about done, Daedalus quickly moves on:

The other thing I wanted to ask about was whether you would be able to arrange for a secure phone call, something that can't be traced, or maybe even some way that you can forward-trace the number. We want to see who is inquiring about the incident at Tommy Wong's on Shadowland. We have the information about who the competition is so we're hoping to slow them down. If on the other hand it is them trying to shake us out, we want to be protected. Think you can arrange something like that Peejy?

[Sedna]

19:11:05 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Shouldn't be too difficult, she says absently in that soft drawl of hers that always exaggerates itself when she's working, starting to "sound" a little distracted. It's only a matter of setting up a temporary number with a blind drop, then eliminating it from the grid afterwards. You've still got the Combat Inc encryption sequencers, right? You haven't gotten them compromised in any way? No 1-900 LTGs this time?

And there weren't any last time, as well you know, Daedalus mutters, not quite grinning.

Not on that line, she retorts easily. Wait ... this is strange.

What is?

A few moments of silence. Then: Shit!

Peej, what is it? Daedalus asks urgently. Frag it, she hasn't been actively decking again while she's been chatting with me?

Look, I'll get your drop set up in a couple of hours. And I'll look into the Shadowland thing. Gotta go.

So sharply and suddenly did she cut the connection that for a few seconds the rigger is left with a distinct sensation of ringing in his ears, as though he'd been dumped.

[WinterRat1]

19:13:01 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

Seeing Daedalus's sudden reaction, Dragon looks sharply at his friend. "What happened? Are you ok?"

"I...ugh," Daedalus closes his eyes tightly for a moment and shakes his head slowly, trying to ease the ringing. "I don't know. Either way, we're not going to get much from Shifty right now, so let's just get on it with it. What's the plan?"

Dragon nods once understandingly. It was hard to let your friends out of your mind, not knowing what had happened, but sometimes you had to, unfortunately. The joys of professionalism demanded it.

"All right, you and I are going in. You're going to be doing the talking with Vinnie, and I'm there to keep you alive if things get hot. Virgil will be waiting outside in the car a little ways down the street, projecting to monitor us. Virgil," he turns to the shaman, "I don't know how much, if any, firepower I'll be able to bring in. It's going to be your job to bring the heavy stuff if things get nasty. Summoning a spirit on the way to have on call would probably be a good idea."

The shaman winces at the thought of still more drain on his resources, but he nods once firmly. A warrior couldn't allow pain to dissuade him from doing what had to be done.

"You pack anything lighter than that SMG these days?" Dragon asked the rigger, who shook his head.

"Well I somehow doubt I'm going to be able to bring the Franchi in. With the recent action down in Auburn the other day, the syndicates are probably a little bit edgy right now, so I'll have to leave it in the car. I've got someone working on blueprints of the building and if there's weapon scanners or not. We'll assume that there are, and if not, well maybe we'll catch a break."

"What's the plan if the drek hits the fan?" Virgil asks.

"Good question. If we can bring in weapons, we'll shoot our way out and you cover from outside. In that case, covering and clearing our exit is the priority. Worst case, if we have no weapons, our priority is getting the frag out of there, and you'll have to make a judgment call whether to move in and help us bust out, or stay put and cover us. You've got a radio now, so at least we can stay in contact."

"I'll put the drones in the air for cover and surveillance as well, I can stay in contact with them inside the building. Early warning system," Daedalus chimes in.

Dragon nods. "Good. I don't want any surprises if possible, and we really don't want this to go south, because we need this guy for more than one reason. And on the off chance things get really nuts and someone tries to wack him, we have to keep him alive."

"Amen to that," Daedalus nods fervently, obviously worried about his babies.

"All right then, let's suit up and move out."

And just like that break time was over, and it was time to get back into the field.

[Sedna]

19:52:40 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Daedalus' safehouse

It takes them a little time -- not a lot, but more than Dragon would have liked -- to get their equipment together and prepped. It was very easy to fall into a regular standard of field-stripping and make-do's. The breaks are when one makes up for all that, the complete overhauls and necessary replacements. Problem is, breaks never look like breaks when they begin; and most end before you've really realised they existed.

And besides, they'd needed the rest in any case. Virgil, particularly, is still looking fragged. A good leader doesn't continually second-guess his people's assessments of their own abilities, and the shaman had already confirmed that the spirit would be summoned, so Dragon limits his own concern to a single questioning glance; to which the shaman nods firmly again and Dragon just has to accept it. Much though you might wish otherwise, you can't always have all your people at 100%.

Old habits of field-packing -- and a surprisingly large trunk space -- mean that the equipment ends up taking subjectively far less space than anyone had really expected. On the other hand, thinks Daedalus, I'm not sure how I feel about maybe having to use this boat as our getaway vehicle. I sure hope we can get this Bulldog situation worked out quickly. The windows are slightly cracked -- something about domains, Virgil doesn't explain it at that point, and the other two are just as happy not to try to understand it just then either. Even though he'd been cautious in drawing on his power, the summoning leaves the shaman drained and pale and shaking: but he shakes his head "no" to the other two -- he can deal, and the spirit is now on call. But Dragon notices the pain-furrow, the sudden shadows that had sprung up under the shaman's eyes from just this basic conjuring; and even though Virgil had sunk back in his seat meditatively almost at once, the ride across town doesn't seem to have been nearly long enough to ease it entirely.

It's almost with relief, when they arrive, after Daedalus parks the boat in an appropriate place away (yet reasonably accessible), that Virgil finally releases his ties to physical form and projects; leaving the other two to glance at each other in mutual understanding, the plan clear in both their minds; to get what needs getting from the car and prepare to go into the place.

[bamboosword]

19:55:21 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Outside the Resturant

Daedalus checks the positioning of his drones one last time. Icarus floating significantly high above the resturant, granting him a wide angle view including the back alley, and Talos hovering closer to the roof of the resturant watching the front. He gives them orders to moniter the scene and notify him if anything suspicious shows up.

Satisfied that his ever-vigilent drones are in place, Daedalus stares for a moment at his Ingram Smartgun sitting in the back seat of the car next to Virgil's lifeless body.

Well, here's to hoping that I wont be needing that...

Looking toward Dragon he gives a nod and then transmits to him: Alright, lets do this

[Shadow]

20:30:05 Sunday, 07 January, 2063 - Outside the restaurant

The wait in the car was nerv wracking. The light rain that began to fall as covering everything in a fine mist and dropping the temperature of the area to an uncomfortable point. The view of the restaurant was unimpeded, both visually and from the drones.

A little warning light flashed in Daeduleses vision. A big Harley Hog was coasting down the alley way behind the Palace. Once it came to a stop the driver shed his coat and peeled off an armored vest. He played with a Heavy Pistol for a minute, adjusting it a shoulder rig before he put the jacket back on.

He paused for a moment and dismounted, leaving the alley way and heading for the front door. He disappeared inside a few moments later.

At that moment Dragons cell phone alerted him of a text message.

-No scanners, regular for mob enforcers, sorry all I can do on short notice.

[Sedna]

08:08:15 Saturday, 07 January, 2063 - arriving at the Last Drop, Auburn

It had only taken a single repetition for this route to have become familiar to her. After having travelled it and its slight variations for a month, after having studied rented retail and office space and intermittent doors and sec-cams and wards: the nuances of the PATH have become as deeply entrenched in her awareness as any place she'd ever existed within. She'd come to know the patterns of the crowds, which bus drivers were likely to run just a little fast and which tried to eke out a few minutes extra of break at the terminals, where to run just a little (along with everyone else) to transfer to the bus that always would be just leaving -- and each and every time that connection was missed, a part of her itched to deck into the public transit department system and revise the flow of the schedules until it made sense. Things should make sense. Individuals are predictable -- mostly, she amended to herself, remembering that morning's call. But that's just variations within a standard schemata. Individuals folded into a mass: that should be utterly dependable.

Even if the transit department faithfully confirms, again and again, that individuals folded into a mass are never efficient.

These particular dynamic structures come a little later in the day than she's used to -- Anne appearance, Anne predictability://test?//scanlist//ok -- but the shifts of pattern themselves follow pattern: sudden ten-minute flood at this soykaf kiosk between the arrival of the 07:58 #17 out of Tacoma and the transfer to the ferry link for last of the morning commuter links north to Vancouver. Almost she lets the crowd carry her along to the kiosk, before she deliberately shifts herself to yet another facet of pattern: one which would pull her along with the rest of this crowd to the Auburn cross-bus, and eventually to the Last Drop. It's constant awareness, constant adaption to countless pieces of data in her environment; but also constantly re-learning how those pieces of data fit together and what it all means. She's mostly gotten it deep enough in her now, to the point that she can even pick out the little glitches indicative of spot checks, or of hidden decker activity, and compensate for (or at least avoid) them. The centralised electronic transit grids must have been a boon to many of those working the shadows. The more tightly indentured into a societal structure, the easier to slip between the cracks, or even to make them actively work for you. The transit grid does it for you, the grid is trusted. Who bothers looking to either side for the details when zipping along at 400 klicks in a maglev?

So she flows with the others toward her bus terminal; and she slows her pace slightly to glance up at the widescreened newsfeeds along with everyone else. It doesn't matter that they're meaningless to her. They're almost as meaningless to just about everyone around her: but there's a perceived need to feel informed in the Information Age, and scanning current event ticker tapes seems to fulfill that need for most. As though a single headline and 30 seconds of airtime were adequate to convey any kind of meaningful information!

As she's getting off the bus someone yawns, setting off a chorus of yawns and she finds herself yawning too without even thinking about it, even if for once she's not tired, not at all. She'd been working on empty so very long, forever, it sometimes seemed: and now, maybe for the first time in her life, she was awake. Strangely, the yawning was somehow a part of it. She doesn't understand, not yet: but she can sense the link, here.

She's here. And she's here not as a waitress, which jars a bit oddly on her until she understands that it's something that jars a bit oddly on Anne too. Inside? Outside? No, Anne's shy -- and she ducks her head and slips inside before one of the regulars at a table outside can spot her and call out a greeting. And that very strong instinct to keep her head down very nearly drags her all the way to one of the two booths right at the back -- Teresa's booth! she notes ironically, and could any possible choice have made her more obvious? -- before she shifts slightly to land in one of the few unoccupied chairs along the end of the bar. It would leave her with her face open to the trid screen planted in the corner.

In a moment of unplanned, unexplained mischief, she moves her lips slightly, silently: Hi, Grail.