Hunting in the Smoke IC, British Shadows are dark... mostly... Options

[Rakshasa]

There I was having a pleasant conversation…. Flitted through Piper’s mind as he followed the fleeing Trog. There was no way he was going to lose his one source of information, besides, the two Trolls should be well and capable of taking care of four sewer dwellers. To be on the safe side he fired a shot in the general direction of the newcomers as he moved, not caring whether he hit anything. It’d make ‘em duck if nothing else.

The north bound platform was gloomier than the vestibule, with it’s guttering neons, but it was enough to see the shape of the small informer running along it. Piper ran, fast, he wasn’t more than a nanosecond behind the odorous little beast when the anticipated gunfire erupted from behind him. The Trolls were mixing it with the restless natives!

[Mysterio]

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Deuce grew impatient. Where the frag are they? He let out an audible sigh. I'll just go get those two and with that he ascended the stairs

[Blitz]

:: Tyen's eyes go wide as she mentally lists off the items. The spell had no emotion attached to any word or name, it just identified objects with the monotony of a computer program. However, the moment the word "bomb" registered in her head, her heart stopped a moment and she whipped around towards Sandy. The sudden movement was too much to for the rhythenium processors to maintain their projected images, and the hood had fallen back from her face enough for Sandy to see Tyen's expression. ::

"Bomb. Get the hell out..."

:: Running forward, she physically spins Sandy in front of her and pushes her forward to further communicate the need for haste. Tyen had no idea what trigger the bomb had or how much time remained, but she definately knew she didn't want to find out too late. ::

[Mysterio]

As deuce rounded the corner he saw the girls running in his direction. Ah they missed me But he quickly saw their expressions and knew it was joy to see him.
"What the frag...?" he said as they got closer to him.

[Rakshasa]

Gunfire and screams followed Piper as he hurtled after the skinny runt that was about to become his snitch.
That same guttering neon light suffused the north bound platform and the scampering sound of the fleeing Trog, accompanied by the higher pitched squeals of disturbed rats, told the Irishman that he had better hurry if he was to catch his quarry before the dark tunnels of the London underground swallowed him, or her, for good.

Spurting forward, Piper made ground on the ragged figure. As he drew close he contemplated taking a shot; just to wound you understand; but at this range and both of them running a `wounding’ shot was just as likely to be a kill shot. He holstered his weapon.

Piper had never cottoned to English rugby but Irish football, now that was another thing entirely, and he’d played a few games in his time. The rough and tumble of the game had taught him one thing, if nothing else. A stern chase is a long chase but, in the end there’s nothing for it but to launch an attack.

Sprinting harder, the old soldier dived at the running figure, catching a handful of filthy rags. It wasn’t much of a handful and immediately began to tear, but it seemed to be enough. The Trog stumbled, leaning to the left and the four foot drop onto the rails.

Piper rolled to the right, heaving with all his strength at the rending cloth. Like a salmon on a trace line, the object of his attention stopped its hesitant drop into the oblivion of the electrified rails and, almost in slow motion, arced backward to crash onto the platform, screaming for its life.

Recovering his feet, Piper stood over the crying waif. “Sure, an I’m not gonna kill you. But yer mates might, if’n they survive.” He heaved the skinny runt to its feet, pulling it toward the partial cover of the platform’s curved wall. “Now, as I was sayin, before we were so rudly interrupted. What do you know about a diplomatic case skimmed off a dead man in the Squeeze two nights ago?”

[Blitz]

:: Tyen, small and shimmering behind Sandy, just waved her hands forward. ::

"A bomb upstairs. Must leave NOW!"

[Mysterio]

She didn't have to tell Deuce twice. He quickly followed the women down the stairs. Getting fist on the subvocal, "Buddy, start the engine, we're getting outta here now!" Fist was used to this from his boss. No real surprise. He had gotten him out of situations before.
"The car's waiting..." said Deuce to the ladies.

[Silverspur_2020]

I hope that thing is armed and we're not running away for no reason! Sandy cant help but think as she sprints towards the door. "As hard as it is... walk out the front, they will draw on us if we run back past them...." so as they get within sight of the doorman Sandy forces herself into a brisk walk.

[Mysterio]

Having the two girls slow suddenly, Deuce almost trips right over them. "Geez! A little warning first eh?" he mutters, slightly annoyed with the whole situation.
He follows the two out the door. 'Psst why would there be a bomb in his building? What would be the point?"

[Drain Brain]

Piper:

"Oh for FRAG'S SAKE just don't kill me! I'll tell you all I know, honest!"

The under-grounder was evidently scared. Although the gangers were all more than capable of perpetrating violence, it seldom followed them back to their own lair. This lad was (nearly literally) wetting himself.

"We don't got the case, man... some girl took it. A Spit-sider. [OOC: Spit-Sider=someone who lives above ground] What's her name... uh... Tasha! The gang, they use her as a go between for shit we can't move ourselves, scan? She understands all the spitsiders better'n what we do! They call her "Tazer" but I swear I don't know where her crib is, I SWEAR!

-------------------------------------------------------------

Sandy, Tyen & Deuce:

The door leading out of the (potential) danger zone opened in a soundless, efficient, rich-person's manner. The Doorman stood beyond, wearing the same face from earlier, and yet an entirely different expression. He tugged at his "forelock" and gave the visible runners a polite, British bow.

"Ms. Jackson, Master Tryon, his Lordship bade me wish you goodnight. He also asked that I give you this..."

The doorman held out a leather case, clearly intending for Deuce to take it. The runners' sharp eyes and keen memories flagged it as identical to the one they were meant to be looking for.

"He also asked me to point out the various - and very dangerous - gentlemen watching the doorway from secreted locations, should you find any reason to cause a disturbance. Wouldn't do in this neighbourhood - oh no. Bluebloods don't like their quiet disturbed, if you get my meaning." He bowed again. "Good night..."

[Mysterio]

"Oh...uh...err..thanks...I think," was all Deuce could get out as he took the case. He gave a look of 'what the frag?' to Sandy. "I guess we're all set." The doorman gave a smile, "Sir, madam..."

They climbed into the back of the limo and pulled out of the lane.

"So," said Deuce eagerly, "Shall we..?"

[Drain Brain]

Sandy, Tyen and Deuce:

With nothing in the way of ticking, hissing or banging, the leather case opened. It did not issue forth anything nasty - well, not dangerous at any rate, unless you count the sanctity of identity as having anything to do with a safety crisis.

The most noticeable thing, for starters, was the presence of a credstick. It rolled out of the open case wide end first, so they could see the elegently tied bow around it, the red ribbon gripping a note that read "A little incentive for you... regards, JC." It was not, however, the most important.

Taking up the majority of the case's interior were a number of files. One contained hardcopy pictures of Deuce arriving at Gatwick airport and a dossier on the fake ID he had used to gain access to the country. There was also information on his real identity obviously pulled from some UCAS database.

The second folder was a full military record for one Alexander O'Toole, along with Psychological profiles and a Magical Aptitude test document from just before he mustered out.

Also included were criminal records for Tyrone, and "Suspect List" documentation for Sandy and Stone, the latter of which had a list of gang activity as long as your arm linking him to the Seoulpa Rings.


The Limo's occupants quietly absorbed the information......

[Rakshasa]

Tazer, Tasha, whatever. This was getting more confusion by the minute. Piper looked down at the quivering snitch and, for a moment, thought to hurl the waif onto the live rail. One more piece of drek out of the way. But only for a moment.

“On your way!” He gave an evil grin as he shouted. “I owe you, so I’ll let you live.” The rags got up and began to move away.

“Fanks fer nufin!” And the shadow fled down the platform, disappearing into the tunnel at the end.

Behind him, things seemed to have gone deathly quiet. Quite why it was quiet, and who had died, Piper had to find out. Carefully, Beretta drawn once more, he retraced his steps to the lower foyer.

[Mysterio]

"Hmmph," Deuce grumbled as he non chalantly put the credstick in his breast pocket," I don't care if this guy knows who I am. That's not a big secret. Got quite a rep back home. The people adore me." He looked over the rest of the contents. "Seems like this guy has his connections and knows all about us though," he said, not impressed, as he held up Sandy's picture on the "suspect" list.

[Drain Brain]

Piper:

Stealthily, the Irishman moved back to the lower foyer. In the dark and quiet he was unseen. Slowly, he poked his hear around the corner...

Beyond, there was a bloodbath. It seems that more gangers had appeared while he was "away" and bodies lay sprawled all around.

There was no sign of movement, however.


As he moved into the area, he began to scan the bodies. The only one he recognised was Tyrone, sprawled by the escalators. Moving to him quickly, he felt for a pulse, but the giant metahuman was already cooling, as was the big-bore pistol still held vice-like in his grip. Around him, multiple gangers were laying, perforated.

There was no sign of Stone save for a messily decapitated ganger near where Piper had last seen him. Bloodied footprints, however, led up the steps but faded from sight at the top... but then how hard would it be to find someone such as he?

[Blitz]

:: As they begin to make their way out, Tyen freezes as Sandy and Duece are addressed by the guard. She can sense the menace in the air, but also tell that not only did they suspect who Sandy and Duece were, they didn't fear the two runners at all. Perhaps that bomb was not activated afterall... ::

:: As the conversation continues, Tyen realizes that they seem to have no clue as to her presence. Her curiosity brimming, she takes a silent step back and retreats back into the building and ghosts her way up the stairs as the group downstairs dispenses with business. ::

:: Approaching the office, she is glad to see the way open and unrestricted. She keeps her eyes in front of her and down carefully scanning everything critically, looking for any sort of bomb trigger. Heading towards the desk, she crouchs low and then whispers to the spirit that continues to wait for the additional favors it has granted to the young shaman. ::

"Sister Shadow...there is a device that contains much destructive power hidden in this room somewhere. Please, help me to locate it so that I can safely avoid the dangers it holds."

[Rakshasa]

Piper counted seven bodies, apart from the unfortunate Tyrone. Their weapons had been crude, rusted blades mostly, a pistol which had lost its grip, the skeleton steel stark in a pool of blood, and a sawn off shotgun which looked as though it had been used as a club when the ammo ran out.

Nothing else for it. The Irishman went through Tyrone’s pockets, collecting his ID, a couple of cred sticks and some few other personals including the big bore pistol. His link to his wheels, inside his head for the most part, were as dead as the Troll of course, but there might be a way….

Piper headed up the escalator, following the bloody footprints of, what he hoped was, a not too injured Stone.

[Silverspur_2020]

Trying to remain calm Sandy watches the folder being handed over and stays silent while they make their way back to the limo. Once safely on their way, she says..."As shadow hasnt made an apperance I assume she made her way back in. Although they obviously have nothing concrete on me, I am not afraid to say that I think anyone who has a record such as this on us shouldnt continue to hold it over us, after all, how knows who they may give it to. Maybe we should get this case back and then arrange for a couple of accidents? oh and by the way Deuce, hand the cred stick over!"

[Mysterio]

Deuce smiled, "I'll hang on to it for a while, no one knows we have it, and trust me, I'll split it with you, fair and square."

He looks over his file and smiles, "At least they could have got a better picture of me...."

The limo pulls away slowly. "We'll have to come back for her, if we stay and wait they'll know something was up."

[Silverspur_2020]

"Not that I am one to squabble over money, but I at least want to know what the total is on that cred stick so I know how much fair and square is!! Lets just wait around the corner until she is ready. That way, we are there in case a quick pick up is needed."

Sandy sits back in the plush leather seats and has a think, wondering what the next phase should be considering this new turn of events.

[Mysterio]

The limo pulls out of sight and goes down the street about a block then pulls over. Deuce leans to the side and opens up a compartment revealing his own mini fridge, filled with various liqeurs, wines and other alcoholic beverages. Selecting a cherry brandy, he takes two glasses, "Drink madam?"

[Rakshasa]

Have you ever noticed that, no matter where you are in the world one thing is always there with you. Noise! Even if it’s only your own heartbeat unless, of course, you’re dead.

Piper reached the top of the escalator and searched for Stone. Blood spatters lead to the rusted iron gates and out onto the darkened street, then stopped. Whether because the Troll had managed to stem the bleeding or because his body had been removed, the Irishman couldn’t tell. But the silence was deafening, save for the soldier’s heart pounding in his ears with adrenaline filled blood.

It took nearly an hour to find a way back to the safe house, through back alleys mostly with their imminent dangers. But Piper dropped onto his preferred two chair bed, exhausted. He knew he should make contact with the other runners, tell them that now there were only five of them, possibly only four, but he made the mistake of closing his eyes, just for a moment you understand.

A moment which lasted a good hour before the Irishman woke with a start at intrusive sounds which even his debilitated body could not ignore.

[Rakshasa]

Noise! Cacophonic noise, like all the Banshees at once were coming to get the old Irish soldier turned out to be the normally quiet Bandwidth Bob struggling with a cooker and having trouble getting it through the narrow door into the Team’s back room hideaway.

Cursing, as only a good Gaelic boy can, Piper stomped over and heaved along with the dowdy little Decker, wriggling the contraption into a position over by the low table and a wall socket.

Between them they got the thing hooked up and, as Piper set a pot of water to boil, Bob left briefly, returning with a heap of foodstuffs and a small, table top fridge. He’d figured they would be here for some time, so why not have all the comforts of home.

Having explained what he’d been able to find out, and about the death of one and disappearance of another Troll, Piper went and freshened up, whilst the Decker made contact with Deuce and the others to bring them up to speed and find out their situation.

[Drain Brain]

Tyen, Sandy and Deuce:

Inside the office of the Duke, Tyen's mind crawled as her spirit cohort searched the room for destructive intent. In moments, her soul is nipped at by the spirit as it fills her head with images of destructive force, directing her attention to the desk - and more particularly, the chair behind it - with awful warnings and concern for Tyen's safety...

[Blitz]

:: Tyen's heart skips a beat, the urgency of the spirit communicated more purely then the communication most people are familiar with. Taking a cautious step towards the chair, she gets down on her hands and knees to peer under it, careful not to touch anything. ::