Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 8th-14th Options

[Vegas]

11:37:42 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - McHugh's

"No, it's crystal clear. We're done here."

Lana stood up and turned her back on the man who just threatened not only her sister but her as well. Taking deep breaths to try to calm her jumpy nerves, she quickly cut through the various patrons of the food court and made her way over to Kat.

"Let's go." She made a firm grab for Kat's left elbow as she kept walking.

"Now, Kat. Please."

With her free hand she fumbled in her pocket for her cellphone. Placing a call using the programmed shortcuts she waits for Niki to pick up as she's practically dragging Kat behind her despite her protests.

Getting her sister's voicemail she curses and leaves a message.

"Niki, it's me. We need to talk as soon as possible. Call me when you get this. I'm on my way home."

She thumbed the button to kill the call while shoving the tiny cellphone back into her pocket.

"No Kat I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get out of here."

[WinterRat1]

01:00:02 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 – A Warehouse in the Barrens

With only a moment’s hesitation, John renewed his efforts to climb to the top of the shelving unit, his confidence bolstered by the cloud of smoke that billowed up from the smoke grenade to provide cover for his climb, and hopefully for Cao Jaan to get clear as well. Climbing as fast as he could, he managed to reach the top of the shelving unit. Staying as low as possible, he tried to set his feet as best he could on top of the shelf, which was now swaying precariously and looked ready to fall at any second.

Down below, a massive earth elemental had appeared in astral space at Knight’s summons, and dipped its craggy head slightly in acknowledgment of its temporary servitude. When the golem spoke, it wasted no words and exchanged no pleasantries, cutting straight to the point. “Your command, master?”

Elsewhere, in the far northwestern corner of the warehouse, a lone Triad continued his silent and stealthy run to the second floor of the warehouse. One of his companions advanced as well, positioning himself for a clearer line of fire.

Taking advantage of the smoke grenade, Cao Jaan staggered painfully to his feet and ran as fast as his wounded body would allow. He headed towards the northeast corner of the warehouse, where ETG had set up an improvised pillbox and was calmly picking his targets, firing off short controlled bursts at each of the attackers in turn.

One of the Triads he’d previously wounded and had stood up to get back into the fight was hit again by a precise burst, and was knocked off his feet a second time. When he hit the ground this time, he lay still and did not move. Another Triad was knocked off his feet by a second narrow burst as the LMG roared in the confines of the warehouse.

[WinterRat1]

11:39:53 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - McHugh's

After allowing herself to be pulled along for a few minutes, finally Kat succeeds in pulling her arm away from Lana. Immediately she starts talking before her friend can get a word of protest out. “Lana! Calm down! What’s wrong? Should we call the cops on that guy? Just take a deep breath, relax, and tell me what’s got you so spooked, ok?”

[Vegas]

11:39:53 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 - McHugh's

Lana sank down onto the closest bench inside the mall and took a couple of long deep breaths to try to calm the storm of fear brewing inside her.

"You can't call the cops Kat, they can't help." She swallowed hard and took a long hard look around her, wondering what skeleton would pop out of the closet next.

"He... The guy... I just need to get home and talk to Niki, that's all. I'm sure she can clear everything up. Can we just go, please?"

She looked up at her friend with the expression of a kicked puppy dog who was looking at the booted foot of his master approaching. Lana didn't usually get rattled, especially not to this extent so Kat was left wondering just what the ThinMan had said to cause this reaction.

[Morgannah]

02:48:47 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Slipping the trode net from her head with a small sigh of relief, Cosmo settled back against a dingy wall, stretched her legs out in front of her, and closed her eyes.

Elise Niveau; world renowned Simsense star. Young, beautiful, athletic, intelligent. Unmarried, but rumored to be dating the lead singer of Anthem-pro-Morpheus. Five movies in her filmography, all of them number one blockbusters. 'Half-elven,' whatever that means, and a humanitarian to boot. Modestly professional singing career. Produces her own line of clothing for the 'active professional woman'.

Media. Freaking. Sensation.

The low growl that rumbled in her throat was only slightly surprising. Not jealousy, she was certainly above that, though she envied Niveau's seemingly carefree lifestyle. Carefree until someone decides to bomb her limo, you mean.

Cosmo shook her head and wandered into her tiny kitchen to see if Tino had remembered her deep abiding love for all things caffinated and sugar-coated.

[grendel]

02:55:04 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo was sipping the last of her cherry cola, staring out the window from her darkened room at the glowing city lights stretching away into the distance, when the trideo buzzed to life. HardBitten routed his call through one of the automatic calendar alert routines, the screen flickering with his static-composed image before Cosmo even acknowledges the call.

"All right, schedule is cleared. What have you got for me?"

[grendel]

23:18:35 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Los Angeles LTG

Few people liked to use the new augmented reality technology that premiered at the end of last year, preferring still either the hard displays of their decks or tridphones, or the full submersion virtual reality. People were creatures of habit, loathe to change the status quo. Beyond that, Nightengale knew that the current series of AR equipment was buggy and unstable, problems he'd dealt with a year and a half ago when Devlin first equipped the team with the technology. Now, though, with the third generation systems in place, it was a much more useful tool.

For his current tasking, though, he still worked submerged. The facility of AR still couldn't compete with the raw speed at which he could accomplish things in VR mode. When the CARAT team first set up shop here in LA, he ran a hardline from the hangar to his comm suite, tapping directly into the Langley mainframes for the team. Now, though, because they were shifting from location to pursuit, he was working via satellite uplink to the puzzle palace for all of his archival needs. Speed was through a hardline to the local matrix infrastructure, provided by Pac Rim Communications. One of the first things he'd done after connecting was purloin superuser status on their local server ring. It only took a couple of days for the official request to be processed giving them law enforcement access to PacRimComm's logs and traceroutes, but Nightengale always thought of paperwork as a kind of forgiveness after the fact. It was one of the reasons Devlin brought him on board.

Hanging in space around him were half a dozen streams of trideo data. Twice that in raw text information flowed in as well. Working the problem with a host of his own smart frames, Nightengale indexed and annotated, pulling out and summarizing key details and players. The files would be marked for review and shuffled to the waiting queues of his teammates, the topics appropriate to their areas of expertise. Overall situation briefings were copied to everyone.

Something from a text scan alerted one of his smart frames, which highlighted the data and moved it to a central display zone. The aural alert was almost an afterthought. Nightengale scanned through the summary with some interest. Sending the frame back to work, he opened up a direct line to the server at Il Grano italian restaurant. Simultaneously, he tabbed open his comm interface.

Actual, Nightengale, hit just came in. Twenty percent relevance.

He attached the data to the message, waiting for Devlin's reply.

Go ahead.

Surveillance on the Network cell operating in the area tracked them to an Italian restaurant this afternoon. They stopped for only nine minutes, probably a data handoff. Leaving the restaurant they were tailed by a single individual in a late model sedan. This individual subsequently eluded our own pursuit team. This data indicates that the security server at the Italian restaurant has been compromised repeatedly in the past twenty four hours, with at least two other superuser accounts hacked.

Devlin nodded to herself at Nightengale's report.

Assessment? she demanded.

Uncertain. This individual tailing the Network might be working for one of the other tribes, or an operator part of a team being employed by the Network. Or the lead element of a team looking to strike back at the Network. I'm working to trace the registration of the vehicle right now, as well as infiltrate a couple of the other servers in the area to crosscheck for a footprint. Initial findings indicate that this individual may have dedicated matrix support. Nightengale highlighted a couple of the datafeeds as he referenced them, redirecting his frames on this new information search.

Devlin stared out the window of the vehicle at the lights of downtown Los Angeles. Finally, she nodded.

All right, build a target profile. Pass to our surveillance teams as priority. If they detect this individual again positive recovery is requested. All necessary means are authorized.

[Morgannah]

02:55:11 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo tossed a small mischevious smile over one shoulder and took one last look out the window before pulling the shade and sauntering toward her trid unit, soda can in hand. As much as Securetech toted the comfort and 'breathability' of their form fitting line, she doubted that any of their marketing execs had spent more than a minute in the stuff and more than likely none in the full suit. She took her time pulling the flexible cloth back over her shoulders and raised an eyebrow as she worked the fastenings.

"We'll go easy to start. I need a layout of Elite Limousines, south central Los Angeles. Standard package; entry points, physical security, estimated response time, et cetera. Soonest is best for this, unless those questions of yours can't wait?"

She half-grinned, tipping the can back to get at a few last drops of carbonated goodness.

[grendel]

02:55:49 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Hardbitten's chuckle is every bit as abrasive as Cosmo remembers. The very fact of her remembering, though, brings a measure of comfort. The thread, however fragile, anchors her to the past. Reminding her that despite the nightmarish surreality of her current environment, she wasn't dreaming this Hell.

"Nah. I'm on it. Just one question before I roll. Where the frag have you been?"

[Morgannah]

02:56:17 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Her smile didn't budge. Waking up from this dream wouldn't have bothered her in the slightest.

"Sleeping. We'll get into it later, HB. And hey," Cosmo tossed the empty can into a basket across the room, "knock next time, hmm?"

[grendel]

02:56:49 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

"Whatever."

The screen derezzes from its face of static into the default standby graphic.

[Morgannah]

03:04:23 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

She tried sitting down on the apartment's one couch to relax for a minute while she waited for Oracle[/b and [b]Hardbitten to call. Tried stretching out on the floor, lying across her bed, and standing on her head; anything to be still and relax but she just couldn't do it. Cosmo drew her new Hammerli, growled, and settled cross-legged on the floor by her bed to check and clean all her gear. She supposed it was better than scrubbing the bathroom sink, which she would do next, followed by the tub, tile, and everything else in this blasted hidey-hole if people didn't get back to her soon....

[grendel]

04:12:02 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

The incessant chirp of the trid pulled her from the bathroom. She pitched the scrubbing wipe she'd been using into the bathtub and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand.

A massage. A manicure. Hair. Clothes. Room service. I swear to God if I survive....

She slapped her hand down on the 'accept' key. Text flowed onto the screen.

[Morgannah]

04:12:16 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

It was all she could do to keep from running out the door, so intense was her desire to get out of the apartment and do something. Instead, she sighed, scrubbed her hand across a roll of disposable towels, and replied to Oracle's message.

[grendel]

04:12:22 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

[Morgannah]

04:12:35 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

[grendel]

04:13:29 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

[Morgannah]

04:13:03 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo smiled.

[grendel]

04:13:52 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

The picture that prints itself onto the screen of Cosmo's trideo is a standard ID mugshot, head and shoulders against a neutral background. The face staring back at her is athletic, plain, earnest, vaguely ethnic, but unremarkable. She's seen enough to know that Cameron Descanzo was specifically chosen because he was average in just about every fashion, someone who's purpose in life was to hold down a steady government job and do nothing to draw attention to the fact that his identity was being used as cover by any number of State Department or DOD personnel. Or worse.

[Morgannah]

04:14:12 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Great, so they're organized.

[grendel]

04:14:39 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

[Morgannah]

04:14:51 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo glared at the message's timestamp turned back to the tub, all but attacking the slick synthetic surface. She'd be damned if the thing didn't sparkle by the time someone got back to her.

[grendel]

06:02:41 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

At the same time that her trideo screen rerezzes in the familiar static face, the speakers resound with a pair of heavy knocks, followed by the ding of file reception.

"You know, it occurs to me to ask how exactly you plan on paying for these services, sweetheart. But, apparently you hold some kind of philanthropic power over me because I don't really care about it right now. Files are onboard, everything you were looking for."

[Morgannah]

06:03:17 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

Cosmo had just finished straightening her ponytail and was adding a touch of blush to her cheeks with a long, soft brush when the screen came to life. She laughed softly and dabbed a bit of gloss onto her lower lip before opening the new file.

"I could always bring a manila envelope stuffed with bills by your place if you feel like re-negotiating. Have prices changed much since Seattle?"

[grendel]

06:03:53 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 862 Lucile Ave, Apt. 2C, Los Angeles, CFS

"Somehow, no. The usual untraceable certified cred will be more than satisfactory. And, yes, inflation has struck. Security is expensive these days."