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

[WinterRat1]

0240 Saturday January 6, 2063- Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

After following the watcher for almost thirty minutes, Blaze comes to a stop about a block away from a large warehouse. Manifesting and pointing over his shoulder, the watcher purrs, "There it is master...she was in there..." Flicking his vision to astral, Blaze sees nothing...at least outside the warehouse.

Looking down the street at the warehouse, there are numerous abandoned buildings, as well as large piles of rubble, sitting as a testament to where buildings once stood. All in all, an excellent place to hide out from people who are looking for you...or a trap.

1228 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Virgil's Redmond Safehouse

Pulling the spare Guardian from its holster and sliding it to Sybersnake, never breaking focus, Dragon replies, "It's fully loaded, you probably won't be firing it on burst, so it should last you."

Still keeping his eyes on the door, he unfolds the retractable stock on the shotgun. Hearing it lock into place with a satisfying *click*, he then answers the shaman, "I think it's time to exit, stage left. Can you summon up some spirit cover for us? Maybe even some watchers or something, just to cover us and keep us posted while looking out for trouble?"

[WinterRat1]

(double post...)

[WinterRat1]

(triple post...Dumpshock or my comp is being weird. Sorry)

[grendel]

01:00:00 Monday 01 January 2063 - Somewhere in California Free State

The light was omni-present, a brilliant pure embrace that reached her even through closed eyelids. She smiled, knowing that it was the dream come to comfort her. But subtle things were wrong. The dream was always warm, always filled with a quiet shush of running water. Here was chill, goosebumps rising over her skin, and all she heard was a distant, dull hammer. Eyes still closed, she groped for the covers, a lazy half-asleep motion that froze when her hand touched smooth synthetic. Opening her eyes, she glanced around, her sleep-fogged mind attempting to reconstruct the events of the previous night. Correction: she tried to open her eyes, something sticky was gumming the lids together, and she could only make out indistinct shapes in the room. She reached up to wipe her eyes clear, realizing only too late that the same substance was also coating her hand.

As if triggered by her gesture, a deluge of water cascaded down over her in an icy bath. Her scream of surprise and shock was cut short by the natural seizing of her chest and diaphragm. Groping blindly for the edge of the bed, she flung herself over it, crashing to the cold concrete floor with enough force to bring tears to her eyes. Mercifully, though, she was out of the frigid shower. Blinking her eyes against the stinging brightness and the foul-tasting slime that dripped from her hair, she hugged her legs to her chest, trying to find some warmth.

The room revealed itself to be a small chamber, only four meters wide and eight meters long. Every surface was covered in dingy white tile, even the ceiling and floor. The near end was dominated by the bed she’d awoken on, along with a dozen unidentified pieces of electronic machinery. On the far end was a doorway, closed by an unmarked white panel. Nearby, set along the wall, was a table with several items on it.

Shivering, Cosmo lurched to her feet, holding on to the edge of the table for support. Folded neatly on the table were, in order: a plain white towel, a cotton/poly blend sports bra and panties, the gray shirt and pants of a set of Form Fitting Body Armor, a charcoal gray blouse, black slacks, black socks, and a pair of Magnum Street Tac boots, also black. Next was a small black nylon bag which proved to have a comb, toothbrush, and toothpaste in it. Behind that was a Colt Manhunter, with two clips lying next to it. Also provided were a carbon fiber dress belt and a Milt Sparks IWB holster. But it was the last object on the table that wrapped her heart in icy fear.

The pocket secretary was the latest model from Novatech Consumer Electronics, snapped into its charging cradle. On the small screen glowed the message “Read Me First!” But what caught Cosmo’s eye was the date/time stamp in the upper right hand corner: 01:00:00 / 01 January 2063.

[paul_HArkonen]

0242 Saturday January 6, 2063

Looking over the area Blaze checks his pistol and looks to the watcher, "Where in the building was she?" As the watcher begins to speak Blaze also dials up Alleycat.

Please forgive me for being so abrupt and such a jerk last time.

[Morgannah]

01:00:28 Monday 01 January, 2063

Cosmo choked back the rush of bile as it churned up her throat, swallowing the vile-tasting stuff even when her every impulse screamed for her to let it out. The room spun for a moment before she could find her balance again, and while one trembling knee buckled, the other held fast and kept her from crashing to the floor.

01:00:30 / 01 January 2063

01:00:31 / 01 January 2063

01:00:32 / 01 January 2063

The lines branded themselves into her brain, shrieking all sorts of alarms though the only sound that made it past her lips was a high-pitched squeak. Cosmo's breathing quickened, her pulse raced, lending strength to her quivering frame as her quicksilver mind began to process the room, her tearfilled jade green eyes searching for any indication that she's being monitored in any way, that there is perhaps more in this room than she'd initially scanned.

A soft 'click' from somewhere near the table captures her attention, tightening every muscle in her athletic frame before she recognizes that the Colt is already in her hands and that the sound was nothing more than the faint metallic grate of the pistol's slide falling back into place. A second 'click' finds the Manhunter's heavy clip inserted into butt of the weapon with a reassuring finality. Cosmo lets out a long, slow breath, both to rein in her Chi as well as to expel the last of her uncontrolled panic. The indrawn breath is slower still as the woman finds her centre.

Wet strands of impossibly tangled hair fall over pale shoulders as she leans forward to check this new message, the comforting weight of the pistol in her right hand anchoring her in a situation that was rapidly spinning out of control.

From this moment on, time would be against her.

[grendel]

01:01:40 Monday 01 January 2063

Dust and grime form a heavy layer on the floor of the room, the only clean surfaces of which are the table with gear and the bed which you awoke on. No monitoring devices are present in the room: no cameras in the corners, no ultrasound motion detectors, no pressure pads on the floor, nothing. The machinery, humming idly, may be connected to an external monitor, though.

[WinterRat1]

0242 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Pointing out the building it believes it found Melissa in, the watcher says, "She was on the third floor master."

[Sedna]

1817 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

As the dwarf is typing, Andie gauges him thoughtfully, using the moments of Durin's distraction to try to examine his aura more closely, now that he could be sure the dwarf wasn't studying him back. Slipping in and out of astral, he's by now picked up enough of Durin's emotional state to realise that there's no direct intention of threat toward him involved here, and wasn't then. Yet there's equally a disturbing level of comfort relating to those weapons. And this -- he glanced down at the diagrams, suddenly realising they were almost clear enough to be distinguishable even in the astral -- from someone who obviously had much more than a basic level of education in metullurgy and design drafting ... and cyber, but no datajack.

It's a puzzle Durin is, for sure. In astral space, it's obvious the dwarf is cybered -- but not heavily, and none of it had been noticeable to Andie at all until he had slipped his vision into the astral. The single thing that most stands out is that, if anything, the dwarf actually looks "blockier", more solid even than he does to mundane vision. Andie's also pretty sure there must be some headware involved -- yet in Durin he's seen no indication of datajack or replacement eyes, the two most common pieces of cyber Andie's encountered. Odd ...

And perhaps the oddest thing of all is that the dwarf looks completely mundane.

Durin looks up again, straight at the mage in that disturbing direct stare, and Andie hastily shifts his vision back into the mundane. "So how much of that money is going into the weapon," he repeats with exaggerated patience, that slight growl back in his voice, "and how much of it is going to you?"

[Morgannah]

01:01:41 Monday 01 January 2063

Satisfied that she was clear for the moment, Cosmo brought the muzzle of her pistol down, focusing more intently on the P sec's screen as it loaded.

01:01:42 / 01 January 2063

01:01:43 / 01 January 2063

Nearly a minute now ..

She grabs for the neatly folded towel, curious as to how it's remained so pristine when the rest of the room is slippery with grime. Panic nearly overwhelms her again as some of the sickly sweet-smelling goop runs down the small of her back and it would be impossible to tell which was gripped more fiercely, the Manhunter in her right hand or the towel in her left as it was viciously scrubbed against every inch of skin within reach.

The screen went blank, finally ready to load.

It's about bloody time....

[SentineloftheMou...]

1817 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie looks at Durin and responds calmly, "Like I said earlier Durin. Those costs will be determined by what it will cost to acquire the special components for the weapon and that can not be done until the enchanting formula is created for the weapon. Trust me, Durin. At 1.5 million you are getting quite a bargain. Of course, if you feel that I am cheating you we can stop wasting each others time and end this meeting right now."

Andie turns back to the circulation batch and checks all the indicators for any changes; waiting for Durin's response.

[grendel]

01:01:45 Monday 01 January 2063

The screen blanks to a neutral gray before lines of text scroll across it.

[Sedna]

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

"Huh," says Durin. After a couple of moments he returns his attention to his typing. Finally he looks up again: "Got a printer?"

The mage suppresses the urge to an exaggerated sigh. "There is a printer up front. One moment."

Andie can retrieve it from its place under the sales counter -- just -- without taking his eyes from the dwarf in the back room. It's not a big thing, little more than a cylinder of paper with an ink cartridge attached, for the rare customers who want something in writing. From somewhere beside the front door -- he must have been quietly pacing as he talked, earlier -- Jack Solomon watches the mage quizzically, the reflected light from the wrist telephone blinking in a hold pattern against his face. "Bring that back when you are done," he says softly to Andie. "I might have something for you by then."

The mage nods acknowledgement, then turns his attention back to the dwarf in the circulation room as someone taps lightly on the outside door before opening it. In the background he can just make out the fixer's hurried "I'll call you back" before the door opens and the sounds from the front shift to the light conversational exchanges of a casual, walk-in customer. The tinkling of the bells hung from the upper hinge of the door blends gently into the flute ambiance.

Durin either hasn't heard or doesn't have any appreciation for the subtle sounds of Firesong. "Try this," he says gruffly, snapping the connector into place and waiting for the scroll of paper to spool out a page of type:

[WinterRat1]

0212 Saturday January 6, 2063 - Stairs of the Puyallup doss

"Lemme see 'ere..." the ganger comes forward and plucks the photograph from Alleycat, who makes no motion to stop him. After a few moments, he shakes his head and says, "Sory chummer, can't 'elp youse. Ain't none a us seen this biff 'round these parts, 'ave we boys?"

The other gangers nod affirmatively. "Neways, partys at our usual place, we be there damn late, ya knows?"

Smiling, Alleycat answers, "I hear ya chum. And...if it's not too much trouble, think ya could see fit ta gimme a ride on to my chum?"

"Where he at?"

"Hold on a sec, lemme see?"

Dialing up Blaze again, she asks when he picks up, "Hoi chummer! You there yet?"

All business, but a little softer and gentler this time, the wizworm replies, "Not yet. Can I call you when I get there?" Hearing the rush of wind on the other end of the line, Alleycat surmises that he's probably still on the move. "Give a call when you get there, kay? Thanks much."

Disconnecting, she turns to the ganger and says, "My chum's somewhere in Redmond, but he ain't sure yet. Canna girl grab a ride when she knows what's up?"

Grinning at her, the ganger replies, "Sure ya can...if yer at the party before ya knows."

Heading out with the Terms to their hangout, which was only a few blocks away, and a few beers and artfully deflected 'propositions' later, Alleycat gets a call from Blaze. "I found the building. Can you come?" He gives her the address, and she replies, "Null sheen chummer, gimme a few minutes. It's not too far away, maybe ten minutes or so."

"Got it. I'm out."

Turning winning smile to the ganger she talked to back at her doss, Alleycat asks, "Hoi chummer, my friend just called and told me where to meet him. Can a girl still get that ride?"

Smiling, the ganger replies, "Sure ya can! Lemme grab one a the noobs for youse." Slapping a freshfaced nearby ganger on the shoulder, he yells a bit loudly, like someone who's had too much to drink, "Ey there! Be givin our chum a ride, yeah?"

In a slightly whiny tone, the ganger answers, "Whys it gotta be me? Send someone else!"

Smacking the 'volunteer' on the back of the head, the older ganger answers, "Cause Ripper's sweet on 'er, that's why! Now get goin'!"

Grumbling, the ganger, motions Alleycat to follow him, and one short bike ride later, arrives at the address Blaze mentioned.

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

From his vantage point, Blaze spots Alleycat arriving on the back of someone's bike. He sees her say something, and the other person laughs in response, then claps her on the shoulder and roars off. Dialing her up, he gives her his location. Casually, she walks down the street, turns a corner, and disappears from view.

About five minutes later, she taps him on the shoulder, and says softly, "I'm here. What's up?"

[grendel]

14:10:24 02 Tuesday January 2063 - Tokyo, Japan

The five figures flowed through the shadows like sharks through deep water, weapons shouldered. The heavy cleats of their boots were quiet on the steel grating of the catwalks, even at the rapid pace they moved. Each wore the armor and stylized helmet of a Red Samurai, but unlike the dress armor these weren't painted red with silver piping. Instead, they were done in digital subdued urban camo tones, patterned to break up their silhouette in front of all optical sensors. Their weapon and equipment loads were all identical to prevent identification based on tactical roles on the team. The assault rifles they carried were Ren Raku standard, firing caseless 7x43mm 120 grain FMJ TEC rounds with an underbarrel 30mm grenade launcher. Each was equipped with an EOTech holographic weapon sight, along with a laser designator. The teams lasers were all keyed to the same digital code, allowing them to spot for heavy ordinance delivery alongside other Red Samurai assets.

The team cornered the hallway silently, moving with swift predatory precision. Each member covered his assigned sector, switching smoothly as new threat vectors opened up. Constant communication flowed among them, heads up displays on their helmets presenting tactical data in sidebars or visual overlays. Radio traffic from external obeservers and drone surveillance snapped over the commlink, providing a macroscopic picture for the team.

As they came to the doorway at the end of the catwalk, they fanned out, two to one side, three to the other. The point man tried the maglock with no success, stepping back and joining the defensive formation while the intrusion specialist bypassed the jammed device. Before the final command was sent, the two operators closest the door palmed flash-packs from their tac gear, thumb pressure on the arming switchs setting each to constant strobe.

The doors hissed open and the flash-packs soard into the room, clattering along the floor. The high intensity halogen strobes shuttered at an offset 120 Hz, dazzling the room. The team moved in from both sides of the doorway, weapons up and ready. No one crossed a muzzle line. Gunfire stabbed across the room as targets sprang from concealment. The team's response was immediate, short controlled bursts scything down their opponents. The Terminal Expansion Control rounds were designed to defeat both light cloth armor and ceramic splinter plates, as well as light vehicle armor. It was over in seconds, ten targets lying dead on the dirty concrete.

The overhead floods came on, bathing the room in harsh, shadowless light. The Samurai rose from their defensive crouches, finishing the motions of reloading and safing their weapons. Two men entered the room from the second doorway, one dressed in a conservative gray business suit the other in dress armor. They ignored the steaming bodies strewn at grotesque angles amidst the wreckage of combat, gazing instead at the five warriors. The man in the business suit coughed once, to clear his throat from the haze of cordite fumes and effluvium that hung in the air, before speaking.

"Congratulations, Class 3352. Your final graduation exercise is complete. You are now Fourth Squad, Fourth Company, Second Battalion, Atlanta Brigade. Well done."

As one, the five Samurai came to attention and saluted.

18:44:30 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Zeyda sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a tired gesture. Information continued to scroll past on the flat panel display set on his desk. Standing, he shifted the ride of the pistol on his right hip in an unconscious gesture, his eyes glancing out the window to the rain outside. A pile of empty Thai take-out containers cluttered the desk, along with a handful of hard copy printouts and indexed OMCs. Stretching again, he cued the wireless headset he wore.

"Rack."

"Go ahead."

"Tell the boys to get ready, we're heading out to the club in fifteen minutes. We've got a couple of hours of business tonight, meets with half a dozen people." Zeyda double checked the schedule on his pocket secretary.

"Got it. We'll be ready."

The fixer switched channels manually, opening up a phonecall. He didn't expect an answer, waiting the obligatory four rings before the message service picked up.

"Tenmou, it's Zeyda. I've got business for you if you're interested, a quick job. Meet me tonight at 2000 at Miner's Landing."

[paul_HArkonen]

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

"My friend said that somewhere in there is Melissa, but also, one mean looking fire elemental. She should be on the third floor, if she's still here, and no one's left since I arived. It looks like a nice place to hide out, and plenty of places to set up traps, which is good for her, if she's in there, but bad for us since she won't recognize us off the bat, if at all."

Blaze continues to study the building in front of them.

" I was hoping you could provide a little backup and help me check for her and deal with the elemental if needed."

[Sedna]

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat nods understanding. "When we encounter the fire elemental, am I running decoy or point?"

[paul_HArkonen]

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

"Backup, I should be able to handle most normal Fire Elementals, although it may sting after a while. If you want to you could run a distraction, but I don't know enough to tell you where to go to distract him. Mostly, you're another set of eyes."

Blaze seems to zone out for a minute and when he speaks again his voice is cold, almost emotionless.

"You ready to go?"

[Sedna]

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat regards him for a long moment, her eyes hidden behind that visor of hers. At some point the earlier dreadlocks seem to have become undone: her hair is now tied back from her face into a pair of large, crinkly braids, lightly knotted at the nape of her long neck. Against his height and force of personality, it has the effect of making her seem much smaller than she had at the earlier meet. Almost every bit of real colour she'd been wearing earlier is gone.

Almost, she reaches forward to touch his hand; at the last moment seems to think better of it. "I'm ready," she says at last, almost gently. "Lead the way."

[paul_HArkonen]

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Blaze steps forward and as he enters into the building he draws his pistol, it never hurts to try an look less like a mage. Inside his self built void of emotions he begins checking the first floor astrally as well as physically. As he moves through the building he makes his way towards the stairs as best he can.

[Sedna]

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Tight quarters here. Her hand's around the taser in her coat pocket, freeing it from the cloth and readied, but still concealed for now.

Just before she enters the building -- the shaman already a little ahead of her -- Alleycat says softly to the watcher still tailing her: "He tells me that his Melissa might be here, but there might be people between us and her, and some of them might be very dangerous. Can you go ahead of him a little, quietly tell me each time what you see around each corner before he gets to it?"

[Morgannah]

01:02:20 Monday 01 January 2063

Cosmo refused to stop scrubbing until every bit of her skin glowed bright pink, the last traces of whatever were left to gum up the less than pristine towel. Careful to avoid touching the table with anything but the backs of her hands, she dons each article of clothing with rapid precision, pulling on socks, underwear, form-fitting armor, and pants in record time. The bra and blouse, already fastened, take even less.

Slow, deep breaths punctuated every series of movements until something as simple as dressing in a hurry became more and more like a kata, each movement flowing into the next. Cos knew that there was no point in taking her time with this, too much time had already been wasted. A quick glance at the P Sec confirmed her suspicions:

01:02:38 / Monday 01 January 2063

Damn.

Moving more rapidly, she fastens the belt, adjusting her IWB holster to fit in the considerable curve of her hip, just slightly to the rear on her right side. Laces tied. She loses herself in the routine of dressing, finally rubbing her sodden hair in the towel to get as much of the gunk as possible before pulling the overlong, tangled mess into a tight knot at the nape of her neck.

01:02:50 / Monday 01 January 2063

With a low growl, Cosmo drops the spare clip into her pocket, resolves to brush her teeth as soon as possible, and thrusts the dirty towel and pocket secretary into the nylon duffel with just enough time to free her hand before the zipper slides home. A few long strides leave her at the door, considering the plain white panel and how to get out of this "storage chamber." Her new name was merely another thing to dissect. Later.

[grendel]

01:03:01 Monday 01 January 2063

The doorway is closed by a plain panel, colored the same dingy white as the rest of the room. It appears to be plastic sheeting over a heavier core, with no latch or locking mechanism. As Cosmo stands there, the door slides open with a hiss, revealing a narrow hallway that opens into a small alcove after only five meters. The alcove itself is open to the night, a faint sliver of orange-lit skyline visible to the right. Sitting on a makeshift chair in the alcove is a young man, perhaps mid-twenties, wearing a stylish, if unadorned, pair of gray slacks, a dark crimson hi-collar shirt, and a gray long coat. His boots, though, are the same style as what Cosmo wears herself.

He looks up as the door opens, a smile appearing on his face. Closing the folding knife he'd been using to clean his nails with, he stands.

"Ah, awake I see. I thought I'd heard something from inside. Not looking too worse for wear. Here."

He offers the knife, a slim Benchmade model with a scaled micarta handle. It fits Cosmo's hand like it was made for it.

"Oh, and these as well. You've got the red BMW out there." He holds out a set of keys, a lasercut car key and thin maglock passkey. He smiles. "Good luck."

[Morgannah]

01:03:48 Monday 01 January 2063

The tip of her knife flickers upwards, deftly slipping between the young man’s sixth and seventh ribs, sliding the top quarter of the slender blade into his lung as easily as a warm knife through Jell-O.

Too worse for wear?

She watched the life drain from his eyes with no expression of her own; she was an instrument .. nothing more. As he slumped back into his makeshift chair with a sigh, the forbidding woman in grey carefully pulled the blade free, directing the flow of his life’s blood downwards, watching the crimson hi-collar shirt turn nearly black with a morbid sort of detachment….

…

Cosmo’s fingers twitch around the knife’s handle as she admires its keen edge, her vivid green eyes widening ever so slightly as she can fairly smell his blood once the waking dream subsides. The tip of her knife flickers downwards, nestling firmly within its guard as she flips the blade shut. A sultry smile tips one side of her mouth as she leans forward to slide the knife into the top of her boot, her gaze trailing across his shirt, belt, pants, and finally to his own boots while she secures her second weapon.

She straightens slowly, taking even more time as her gaze lifts almost casually to meet his own. Her widening smile leaves no doubt as to her conclusion.

“Red BMW, hmm?”

A subtle shift in pitch warms her voice, its silky tone turns caressing as she steps forward.

“Hardly seems standard issue ….”

Slim, tapered fingers brush against his as she reaches for the dangling key chain. One blonde eyebrow lifts artfully as she takes in every ridge and plane of his face .. commits it all to memory .. Cosmo shudders as if struck by the sudden intensity of what she finds there. The tip of her nails slide lightly down the lapel of his long coat.

“But what does a girl have to do to get a coat like that?”

[grendel]

01:04:01 Monday 01 January 2063

Closer, the details of his face concealed by the shadows reveal themselves. His eyes are cold and hard, a synthetic icy blue. The replacements are very high quality, as is the implant surgery: no fine cut lines around the sockets, no abnormal smoothness of the skin, no scarring. The planes of his face are cold and unforgiving, and despite his relaxed nature and the smile he wears, a tension fills his body, like the pressure on a trigger spring just before it trips the sear.

He carries a weapon, most likely a heavy pistol, in a holster just behind his right hip.

His hand, when you touch it, is hard with callous and scar tissue. He chuckles, a low, vicious sound.

"Don't ask me about issue, I wasn't the one who set this up. I'm just the watchdog. But if you're wanting to get into my clothes, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement."