IC: Chasing the Prize, We always get our mark Options

[HeySparky]

Edana nods ruefully at Bishop, "Yeah, lets get to it."

She turns to Mickey, concern creasing her pale brow at the shift in his demeanor. She opens her mouth to speak and a chill breeze blows a lock of white hair across her face. She brushes it away, "Sorry if this has caused any trouble for you. I appreciate it and will pass Piotr's message on."

She pauses, uncomfortable again, "Do we have room enough for another passenger? If we do, I need to send him coordinates to meet us quickly." She looks expectantly at Mickey and smiles weakly, tugging on the collar of the blue coveralls, "Thanks for this. It really does help."

Thanks for scouting.

Rather than reply the spirit materializes in hound form at Edana's side, in the spot just where her hand can just reach an itch on his neck. He leans against her leg. She swallows and breaks her glance away from Mickey, smiling gratefully down at Herne.

[BishopMcQ]

Edana:
"Yeah, we can fit one more. Just make sure he hurries, I'm not sitting on a runway with a belly-full of contraband."

Team:
Within twenty minutes, the plane taxis into a small hangar where two large white, kidanapper vans sit with their side doors open. Mickey climbs down from the plane and gestures for the rest of you to follow. He unscrews a hatch from the bottom of the plane and starts loading boxes into the storage compartment.

"Time to earn your tickets."

[Ecclesiastes]

Without a word, Bishop moves over and helps loading the boxes.

[toturi]

Graves pulls his hood up and pulls down his goggles before helping to load up the boxes.

[HeySparky]

Edana nods and rapidly finishes her message to Christopher Robbin.

>>>>[Headed out to see our good friend soon. You joining us? We're at coordinates encyrpted. Get here as fast as mortally possible.]<<<<
--Sturmdottir [00:05:30/17-DEC2063]

The tall, thin woman helps as best she can, but rather than doing the heavy-lifting she puts her mind to work arranging the crates so that they will be as efficient as possible to load and unload.

[HMHVV Hunter]

Helios starts packing the stuff, eager to get started on the hunt once again.

[Bastard]

Kane quickly rushes ahead to inspect each crate. He turns and barks in JT's direction after each one. "Its ok boy, think of it as evidence."

After a quick pat on the head, Kane goes back to work. JT takes the que from the dog and hurries to work as well.

[BishopMcQ]

Edana:
Pulling yourself into the cramped space where none of your larger companions could fit, you quickly organize and arrange boxes to efficiently use the space provided. Just as the last box is loaded in, your p-sec vibrates at your waist startling you. With a brief yelp, you accidentally let go of the lip of the storage area and fall inches onto Herne's back. The stallion shakes his head, causing his mane to ripple in the air, before melting back into his hound form. Your feet reach the ground as the soft bristles of hair start to push through his flesh.

>>>>[I'm about eight rows back right now from our mutual friend. How about we meet there? Message me when you arrive.]<<<<
--Christopher Robbin [00:05:41/17-DEC2063]

Team:
With the loading finished, Mickey gestures everyone on to the plane.

"Your friend coming sister? I want to be in the air as soon as possible."

[Johnson]

Tiny get out, having to exercised inthe last couple of hours this is the right time to apply his muscle. Going a head, making as short work as possible of the creates which are to be loaded.

"Thats the last one, lets get going. We need not waste more time..."

Getting back in Tiny settles in with renewed interest.

[HeySparky]

Edana gulps bracing herself for the impact that doesn’t come. She blinks, taking a moment to register Herne’s presence. Hoo… thanks, Herne. She swallows, heart pounding from the tension of the expected drop. She gives the spirit an affectionate squeeze before checking the chiming p-sec.

She looks up from the small screen at Mickey and shakes her head, “Nope, he’s found his own transportation. We’re ready to go.”

Edana laughs uncomfortably at Kane’s dutiful barking. She grins at JT and scratches behind an ear, sharing a guilty co-conspirator’s glance with the former officer.

Tiny rumbles an admonishment for the group to get a move on and Edana clambers onto the jet. A niggling thought resurfaces. Christopher Robbin sure is on the ball here… a step ahead of us and almost apace with Ballefour. What if he’s an agent of Ballefour’s? She shakes her head. Then we don’t let on that we know. Play double agent and do our own work on the side.

Paranoid much? Herne's sending is laced with lazy humor.

Use slang much?

More like: Been around you too much. I long for The Hunt.

And the Huntsman’s crop? You long for that?

Herne’s presence bristles and a backlash of resentment over millennia of servitude crashes across their link. Edana grips her seat as she rocks back, white knuckles even whiter. She regrets her words as the reality that though she is a kinder mistress than the Huntsman, Herne is still leashed to her will against his own. He reads her reeling thoughts.

Yes, a slave… Mistress.

I’m sorry, Herne. I was… it was a long time ago. I didn’t understand.

And yet I am still here.

Edana swallows. Guilt and anger spiking along the link. No. No, Herne. WE are still here. You are part of me. You are part me. The young woman’s eyes tear, guilt gnawing at her. I would be lost… her thoughts clamp down as the other bounty hunters climb aboard. She turns away, dashing an arm across her eyes.

[Bastard]

Taggart straps himself in, and grabs a loose hold of Kane's collar. He doesn't want the him to be startled by the liftoff again. Instead Kane surprises his master, and knows what's coming. He prances in place, followed by some friendly licks to JT's hand. His tail wags in excitement for another flight.

"Okay boy, we'll be going in just a minute."

[BishopMcQ]

Team:
With everyone on board, the plane backs out of the hangar and with a few quiet moments on the runway, takes off.

A few hours in to the flight, you realize how long it has been since anyone has eaten anything as the smell of Insta-Kaf fills the cabin. Mickey sips gently at the cheap soy-kaf to wash the energy bar he is eating down with. With a few shared glances, bottles of water and snacks got pulled out of your carry-on luggage and backpacks to be spread around.

The sun passes you, day becoming night as you travel hours forward in time crossing the Atlantic. Members of the team catch up on what little rest they can. Visions of Long Haul patches dance across chemically alert optic nerves.

With a steep downward angle, everyone is alerted that you are coming into land. The jet jerks hard to the right and bounces in the darkness, coming to rest on a rural road. Outside, once the door is unlocked, the sound of two trucks parking is heard. The unseen drivers speaking a bizarre mix of French and German, interspersing words and structures within the same sentence.

"Well, wasn't that fun. Here's my number, remember to call when you need a ride home. The folks outside should have a van waiting for you, drive west on this road until you come to the carrefour which connects you to the highway. Take that into France, I'd recommend exiting nine kilometers before reaching the border and taking the south road. It has fewer, entanglements."

With that, Mickey leaves you to diasembark as he climbs down and begins speaking in hushed tones in a very harsh, crisp German.

Tigger:
The flight is comfortable with meal service, in-flight entertainment, and personal climate control. Arriving in Geneve, the melanin slowly darkens your face, until by the time you reach customs, a dark African male shows his travel visa and is welcomed to Europe. The mark pushes quickly through the hustle and bustle of the airport and meets a limo driver holding a small sign reading "Baiour" and armed with a sharp wit and sharper eyes. Diverting course, you track the mark as he is walked out to the limo and waits with the chauffeur while a porter brings two suitcases to the car.

[Ecclesiastes]

Bishop grabs his gear and begins to load up the van. As he does so, he askes to the group as a whole, "Anyone speak the local languages? I shoulda thought to pick up a lingasoft..."

[Bastard]

"Not unless we are heading to Spain."

[Ecclesiastes]

Bishop chuckles. "Same here."

[HMHVV Hunter]

"Actually, I speak some German," Helios replies.

[Buddha72]

Tigger moves forward through the crowd, keeping the mark at the edges of his senses. He stops to speak with an airport worker. He begins a conversation, his french clear and fluid.

[BishopMcQ]

Tigger:
The young hospitality clerk is more than willing to answer your questions. She offers you several suggestions on dining and hotel accomodations, her body language shifts from standoffish to completely at ease as the two of you joke softly between recommendations.

You overhear Ballefour, his French crisp, native, and lacking the uncultured American sound. "Take me to the lodge please."

"Of course, sir. Marc, please collect some appropriate luggage."

Amandine, the young woman, calls over a cab. She leans in to open the door for you, slipping a small card into the pocket on your overcoat.

The limo begins to pull away from the curb.

[Buddha72]

Tigger smiles and slides the card into his pocket-sec. Perhaps I can afford a little lay over this trip. He leans forward to speak with the driver. "Can you tell me which chateau is closer? Sang Real, Paradis or Val Thorens? A friend insisted I stay at one of them this trip."

[BishopMcQ]

Tigger:
"Paradis is the closest, monsieur, though Sang Real is assuredly worth the extra drive. Val Thorens is a private lodge, only available to members and their guests. It is between the two, but I do not know anyone who has ever been there."

The cab door shuts softly, Amandine smiling as she turns away and returns to her duties. You watch the limo turn left, it is heading for the airport exit.

"Where would you like to go monsieur? I cannot take you to any of the lodges but could easily take you to a train station that would or perhaps a private car rental facility, possibly your hotel?"

Rural team:
The van is idling as you move towards it, opening the side door you see enough seating for ten if you're cozy with your gear. The heater is turned on full to make the van a wonderful alternative to the snowy hills surrounding you.

[toturi]

Flashback episode Visions of snowy white mountains flaot before your eyes. The view from free fall is simply spectacular. Peaceful white peaks, so incongruous to your purpose here. You are laden with weapons and ammunition, HALOing into... somewhere.

Shaking off the memory, Graves replies,"Sorry, can't speak the lingo."

[Johnson]

Tiny get to the van, looking for the most comfortable seat he sits down an enjoys the warmth of the vehicle.

"So where are we off to now. I am already lost." Looking out the window in to the blackness of the night. Talking under his breath.

"So what do you look like out there." His thermal vision just depicting blue land scapes.

[Buddha72]

"Excellent suggestion. Let's go to a car rental, the nearest is fine." Tigger leans back into the seat and pulls out his poc-sec. Pulling up his last email with the fellow hunter, he quickly sends another email.

>>>>[Ok, I got here safely. Where should we meet? Call me at the attached number so we can meet up.]<<<<
--Christopher Robbin [00:10:32/17-DEC2063]

[Bastard]

JT looks around, seeing no one else heading for the driver seat, he climbs in. Kane follows, sitting between the two front buckets, ready for the trip. JT reaches across the consol and checks the glove box for a map.

[BishopMcQ]

Tigger:
The drive from the airport is short and uneventful, moments later the cab pulls into a car rental facility. You pay him and head inside. Behind the counter is a North African male in his mid twenties, handsome if not for the acne scars.

Team:
Climbing into the van, JT quickly lays his hands on a folding map of France, Switzerland and Northern Italy. When the rest of the team has climbed in, the side door to the van gets pulled shut and the temperature slowly begins to rise to something more comfortable than the snowy exterior.