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

[Sedna]

01:00:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

"I'm with him," she hissed at Nora, shoving her arm against the girl's mouth to quickly stifle the scream and physically start her and Lady Dove moving toward the stairway. "Don't distract him. He knows what he's doing. He needs you to get out of here." It was obvious the girl was in no condition to do anything on her own. Focus the girl on his need then, anything Alleycat could to get her moving before the window of opportunity closed.

Before, unnoticed, she'd taken the opportunity to identify the various sources of fire; no amount of confusion could shake her continuing mobile awareness of them now. She'd marked escape routes from the moment escape suddenly became possible again, even before she'd managed to work her way close to Lady Dove. Several were gone now, but for now the barrier was gone and the northeast exit was still open, covered by Blaze and another she didn't know. Let those two keep right on covering, while she worked on staying as inconspicuous a target as possible. She'd have to abandon the high ground, but then she'd always known that would be necessary eventually. Even as she re-assessed a sharp gasp drew her attention to a jagged shard of pain, another ally fallen? no, but certainly hurt. The man covering him and the badly injured Cao Jaan was struggling, but for now managing well enough. He had his charges, Alleycat had hers.

Something loose at her foot. Briefly she considered throwing it, realised just as quickly she'd be as likely to hit Scrapheap as distract his opponent. An internal snarl: no nearby weapons to grab, still no armour, and she knew that in grabbing the girl she'd lost much of what had protected her earlier. She'd been in worse before, wouldn't even have been an issue, but now there were these two she'd taken under her care.

Dared she try to catch Scrapheap's attention? even to try to communicate she was on his side? She settled for a variant of the non-threatening slump that had gotten her overlooked by three separate bands of combatants including one who had run right past her, hoping that would be enough not to mark her as a target for one of those Manhunters -- but ready to dodge and pull the other two clear, just the same. Too late to pull the other two into her kind of obscurity, but maybe at least she could keep them from standing out like beacons. "Lady Dove, if you know any concealment-type spells, now would be the time."

[Sedna]

Some days earlier - A Warehouse in the Barrens

Alleycat forced herself not to stare at the barrier. Her current persona would never even have realised it existed.

So many shifts, so many different guises, but at last Alleycat had caught the scent of her quarry, had patiently tracked it into the Barrens and finally to this warehouse. In this shelter, perhaps, hid the woman who was so dear to Blaze.

If it was indeed her. If she even remembered. Or cared.

No matter. As soon as Alleycat could catch something solid of her, she could pass it on to Blaze. Let him determine the truth of it, let him determine what to do with it. She had a run to organise.

Easy enough to strip down to too-worn clothes and slip in as just another transient. She’d kept her head low -- wise, in the Barrens, utterly necessary for someone venturing in without armour or knife or pistol -- and in the shelter she'd stayed even lower. Just another lost soul, thank you Mr. Cao Jaan sir, take full advantage of what passed for food in this place while she searched and never once let it be guessed she was searching. Eyes there were aplenty to see, and the woman she sought would be Awakened besides. Who knew how she might react to an unlooked-for hunter?

As she spooned the tasteless soy into her mouth, she listened to the tight conversation in the office. For all her care she could catch no more than snatches: an Awakened newcomer, some kind of knight, hired to guard the shelter, why? She couldn't make it out. For all she knew, it hadn't been said. More here than met the eye, certainly -- but none of it relevant to her hunt. Where was the woman? No communication, Sivalius' card burning a hole in its locker, and the fragging run breathing down her neck. No phone, no jack, no time. Only phone in the whole fragging place locked away in the office, wasn't like she could bring her own in without raising questions. Frag, she hated working under this kind of stupidity. Money would solve so very much and she'd get it, no question, but she didn't have it now, and so she was stuck trying to pull together a run that had the feel of being doomed before it started. And here she was of her own free will, trying to track down a woman important to her only shadow contact, who had the feel of someone who would die for her once she had his trust. Maybe that would be useful at some point. Maybe it wouldn't.

Almost, she shrugged. After all, what was the difference?

She'd just about decided to give it up for now, pick up the trail next day when she caught the cultured tones of someone whose speech had not been educated in any Barrens. Yes, her -- finally. Lady Dove? The name didn't match, but names meant little. The accent -- maybe. Enough similarities, anyway, for her not to dismiss the find out of hand. Now, something, anything that could act as a material link, maybe a loose thread of that long, soft hair, and --

No disbelief in her, trying not to stare at the barrier suddenly locking her in. Of course, security. Common sense. First thing anyone would do. She'd have done the same thing, probably.

Trapped.

Alleycat gave a small sigh, swallowed the soy, and prepared to settle in for the duration.

[Slipshade]

01:00:07 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

Max wasn't sure what had happened. He had been running towards an exit one second and the next he was pitched sideways as pain exploded from his shoulder. A spray of blood speckled his white face and pale hair.

Max half rolled and half slid to a stop on the floor, his hand instictually reached up to clutch his shoulder but winced at the damage and pulled it away ever so slightly to see the glistening of blood against his black gloves. He knew he was a sitting duck out hear in the open and called to the spirit he had summoned earlier that night to help hide him. He could see and feel the city incarnate encircle him.

Max struggled to his feet and still clutching at his arm, once again made for safety.

[WinterRat1]

10:29:03 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

Detectives Fox and Morris each slide Lana a business card with their information on it.

"OK sweetie, you're free to go, please contact us if there's anything we can do to help you," Detective Fox says as they rise to usher Lana out of the room.

Detective Morris opens the door for Lana and motions for her to go first. "We'll be in touch as soon as we know anything." Suddenly a thought occurs to him, and he adds, "Actually, I don't think we have your number. Give us a number we can reach you at and then I think we can wrap up this discussion for now." He pulls out a datapad and waits expectantly for Lana's reply.

[Vegas]

10:29:43 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

She quickly pocketed the offered business cards after a quick glance to each of them before she rose to her feet and nodded to Detective Fox.

"Thank you very much for your kindness."

She was almost free and clear until the tiniest of details stopped her in her tracks. A stupid phone number. She hardly had taken the time to ferret out the one attached to the phone Niki had left for her, assuming she could even do so. She wasn't about to give either Kat's or Aidan's as they wouldn't take to kindly to her giving up their relative privacy to the cops. She reached in her pocket of her jeans and pulled out her old phone and offered it to the cops showing it's "No Signal" reading across the screen.

"I guess before all this happened my sister didn't pay the bill on time. I don't have a number you can reach me at because of it. Can I check in with you on a regular basis? Unless you have a better solution."

[grendel]

08:35:47 Sunday 14, January 2063 – Outside “The Bakery�, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

Sascha laughs without humor, blowing a long thin stream of smoke towards the ceiling.

"Don't get your pretty panties all in a bunch. I've smoothed it over with the Foreman on the job site. Show up tomorrow morning at eight and he'll let you in, no questions asked. If anyone hassles you, just tell 'em I sent ya."

The slim Russian gangster stubs out the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Now get out of my office."

[bclements]

21:02:19 Wednesday, 10 January 2063- Outside the Sundowner Tavern, 14640 58th Ave S. Seattle, UCAS

"Don't know him" Isir said in his lightly accented English, catching him out of the corner of his eye, carefully trying not to look at him while absorbing the details of the homeless man . "Probably just some bum. The soycaf's cheap here, but I can't say I've seen him before."

"As for how controlled? I'd like to tell you just to smack him over the head with one of those hands and be done with it, but he's a lot tougher than he looks; that won't work without really hurting him. I and my team don't want that. We need him hale and hearty at 1800 on Friday."

Isir continued softly, not looking at Leo, but gazing out at the other bums by the fire down the street. "He's pretty slippery so keep him in sight at all times, and don't be scared of him either. And I wasn't joking when I said there are people out looking for him: :nuyen: 50,000 isn't a small amount, even to a Vory guy. Some...people are bound to come out of the drek to turn him in."

"As for payment," Isir finished, pulling out a rag-wrapped bundle out of his coat "I was instructed to give you this." This, Isir showed by briefly unwrapping the oilstained rags, was a Predator III, 3 clips, and a credstick. Passing over the parcel, Isir added "The gun's smartlinked, and Sheri worked on it. It's pretty new, and clean. 1 clip of gels, 2 clips of standard ammo. The stick's got :nuyen: 500 on it." Isir pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with a chrome, old-fashioned lighter. "Want one?" he asked.

[bclements]

10:39:57 Sunday 14 January 2063 - The Green Papaya, 600 East Pine St, Seattle, UCAS

"Ya, I kin do dat. If'n you should want, I know a'few people dat might take the bit'o'bait dat he's laid out. Man's always on, meebe we coordinate dis? Say, later tonight?"

[grendel]

10:40:26 Sunday 14 January 2063 - The Green Papaya, 600 East Pine St, Seattle, UCAS

Vedic nods.

"Whatever you can acquire, keep in mind we're on a very limited budget here. Midnight. The Aquarium shop."

The slim elf stood, finished with his meal.

"Anything comes up, you've got my number. Don't worry about lunch."

Vedic slid his credstick through the reader, nodding at the hostess' polite comments. One of the mints from the dish on the maitre d' stand made its way into his mouth as he scanned through the windows into the street outside. Once clear, he moved quickly to his vehicle.

Places to go, things to do, people to..? Yes, people, too.

[Scrapheap]

01:00:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

Scrapheap threw his arms up and skipped back, just out of reach of the katana's vicious downward arc. He could feel the tip scrape down his armored jacket as he moved back and to the side. Half expecting to feel a red-hot flash of pain any second, the old runner continued to duck and weave and feint along with his skilled opponent.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the shelter's patrons begin to herd Lady Dove and Nora towards the stairway. Before he could even think about what that might mean, the swordsman thrust the katana towards him with a quick step forward.

Scrapheap quickly twisted his body aside and stepped forward himself, bringing the Manhunter held in his hand in line with the swordman's torso. The battered pistol roared, as the veteran squeezed off two quick shots. The muzzle flash briefly illuminating his lined face.

[Mister Juan]

08:35:59 Sunday 14, January 2063 – “The Bakery�, Renton, Seattle, UCAS

Cigarette stilll stuck to the corner of her mouth, Ludmilla felt her teeth grind against each other, as he jaw clentched itself instinctively.

The sole of her boots scrapped one the floor as she dragged them close to her body, pushing herself out of the chair and unto her feet. Shoving both hands in her jacket's pocket, casually, she walked to the office's door, briefly stopping by to give Lev a good forced smile.

"I'll call you when I'm done" threw the woman in russian, over her shoulder.

And with that, she left Sascha and his croonies behind.

[WinterRat1]

08:09:13 Monday, January 8, 2063 - Dragon's Basic Safehouse

After getting off the phone with Erebus, Dragon headed back to one of his safehouses, the lower security 'basic' safehouse, as opposed to say, his 'break glass in case of emergency' one.

Once there, he carefully field stripped and cleaned his weapons and reloaded them, making extra certain they were in good working order. With all the mileage he'd gotten out of them in the past few days, he wasn't taking any chances.

After they were prepared to his satisfaction, he realized he was going to need some sleep. It had been a long stretch of time since he'd had a good rest, and who knew when he'd be able to catch some shuteye again? A good soldier learned to rest whenever he had the chance, because he never knew when he'd get the opportunity again. Setting his alarm, he stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes, falling fast asleep.

11:25:17 Monday, January 8, 2063 - Parking Garage of Aurora Village Shopping Center

Dragon checked the trunk one last time, making sure his duffel bag was buried under a blanket and several other random items that had been in Juliette's trunk. Before he left the safehouse, he'd stashed the submachine gun and some grenades in the duffel bag, just in case. He planned on transferring it to Erebus's car later, but he didn't want to risk bringing it in the mall. Recent events being what they were, he wanted to have something heavier than the Predators if the drek hit the fan...again.

He'd parked in an inconspicuous location and hidden the bag carefully in the trunk. It should be fine until he could transfer it, he reasoned. After the meeting he'd call Virgil and tell him where to pick the car up. Double checking to be sure he'd locked the doors, he pocketed the keys, closed the trunk and walked into the mall.

11:55:17 Monday, January 8, 2063 - Aurora Village Shopping Center Food Court

Upon arriving at the inside of the mall, Dragon had walked the mall and observed the food court from every angle possible, scanning the crowds at all levels to make sure there were no probable threats lurking. Unfortunately, it was impossible for him to fully scan the area without astral backup, another problem he'd have to remedy. But to the best of his knowledge, the food court was reasonably safe for now.

Ordering himself a meal twenty minutes before the meet time, he'd finished it in ten and settled in, sipping his drink absently while continuing to scan the area. At 11:55:30, Sybersnake approached his table. Apparently she'd done some shopping at the mall for some new clothes, because she looked more like she usually did. Dressed in her typical street trendy look that didn't draw attention to herself, Dragon had long ago noticed once you actually started paying attention, you couldn't help but observe that her outfit was extremely flattering to her figure.

Rising to his feet, he pulled a chair out for her to sit down. She gave him a bemused smile as she accepted the seat. "Chivalry, Dragon?" she asked teasingly.

"You know me, always a charmer," he answered dryly.

"Right." Her tone conveyed a sardonic skepticism that was more in line with how she usually carried herself, which told him she was closer to functioning like she normally did, a good thing. She'd been out of sorts since this whole mess started, and she needed to get her game face back on if they were going to get out of this, especially now that he was running without Daedalus and Virgil.

"So what happened to the other two? And who's this guy you have backing you up now?" She wasted no time in cutting to business, calm and professional. Another good sign.

"Long story short, Daedalus got jacked coming to Seattle, and some of his stuff got impounded by the Star. Until he gets it back, he's functioning at a competitive disadvantage, which he cannot afford right now. He's working on getting his gear back and running at full capacity again. Virgil is juggling another obligation with this one, and he needs to follow up on it personally so we don't get too far behind on the timetable for that."

He spreads his hands and leans back in his chair. "And that leaves yours truly to back you up. As for the guy I'm bringing in, circumstances caused us to encounter him in a real fragged up situation. He conducted himself with professionalism and resourcefulness, a real asset in this kind of situation. Plus, I get the feeling he's eager, maybe too eager, if you catch my drift, to get set up here in Seattle."

"He's running from something you think?" Sybersnake asked, clearly nervous at the prospect of additional complications getting introduced into an already ugly situation.

"Aren't we all? At least I met this guy face to face already, had a chance to work with him a little, get into a few scrapes, see his moves, see how he acts and conducts himself. I'm confident he can take care of his own biz while dealing with this one."

She still looked a little nervous, so Dragon leaned forward and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I wouldn't have asked him to come if I didn't think he'd be an asset. If what I saw of him earlier is any indication, he'll be fine. Speaking of that..."

He shot a pointed glance over the decker's shoulder as he spotted the elf approaching, hands at his sides in a nonthreatening posture as he approached their table. Standing as the young elf approached, Dragon said simply, "Erebus, this is Sybersnake. Sybersnake, meet Erebus."

The two of them exchanged polite greetings, then seated themselves. Turning to Sybersnake, Dragon said, "OK, now that we're here, why don't you catch Erebus up on the basic premise of the situation. If he wants in, you can fill him in on the details and lead into an update on where we stand now. From there, we'll figure out what to do next."

Introduction over, the mercenary leaned back to give the sense of open space over the table for the discussion. His tone was all business, any trace of familiarity or friendship with Sybersnake gone. He still wasn't ready to reveal the true depth of his relationship with the decker to Erebus yet, and besides, this wasn't the time or place. They were on the clock again, and that meant it was time to be a professional and get back to work.

[WinterRat1]

01:00:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

Firing the Manhunter at point blank range as he did, the shots should have smashed into his assailant's torso and cored him front to back. At the least, they should have knocked him back or even flat on his hoop.

All of those scenarios presumed that the shots actually hit their target, of course. A very reasonable assumption, given the circumstances. Then again, everyone knows the old saying about assumptions and where they'll get you.

Scrapheap's eyes widened as somehow, some way, his attacker managed to sidestep and twist his body to avoid the shots, seemingly with ease. Almost without losing a beat, his opponent was right back on the offensive, coolly slashing and thrusting as Scrapheap moved frantically to avoid his foe's whirling blade.

His foe slashed at his head, and John ducked it easily, maybe too easily. Thus he was ready for the follow-up kick to the face and blocked it easily, crossing his arms in front of his face. Suddenly he saw his opponent break into a grin and realized that when his foe had kicked, the man had dropped his sword low to his side, and it was now underneath Scrapheap's guard. It then dawned on him the kick wasn't really an attack at all, but was solely designed to get Scrapheap's guard high, leaving an opening for the swordsman to thrust.

John's brilliant analytical assessment did little to comfort him, especially when his suspicions were confirmed as his opponent quickly changed levels and thrust, his katana aimed right at the old samurai's gut, ready to skewer him like a shish-kebob...

[WinterRat1]

10:30:14 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

The two detectives look at each other for a moment, then Detective Fox looks back at her and says, "What about an email address? You must have one of those, through your school if nothing else."

[Vegas]

10:30:42 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

Lana looked at the detective and the sense of the overwhelming situation was clear on her features.

"Oh, right. Email. Of course."

She took the datapad from Detective Morris and entered in her email address from school and handed it back.

"As soon as I can get my phone issues straightened out I'll be certain to get the information to you."

She ran her fingers back through her hair again and her eyes went a little vacant as she focused her vision past the detectives. She wanted to get away from these people and try to make heads or tails of what had happened upstairs on her own. She swallowed hard before speaking again to the detectives.

"What happens if... if the body upstairs is Niki? What happens then? What happens to me?"

[WinterRat1]

10:31:13Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

There is an awkward silence, before Detective Fox answers, "Don't worry about it right now sweetie, you've had a terrible shock. Everything will be just fine and work itself out. Why don't you go back to where you're staying and try to relax? We'll let you know as soon as we have any information."

A bigger non-answer would be hard to find, but really, what did she expect them to say right now?

[Sedna]

01:00:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

He'd seen her. No question there, the taste of his sudden awareness was unmistakeable -- but only a shadow of what it should have been, so intent was Scrapheap on trying to get his Manhunters inside his opponent's guard. Threat triage. Maybe it might have been different had he identified immediate threat to the girl, but she intended none and fortunately he'd picked up on that, both for Alleycat's sake and his own. He'd need every scrap of focus to keep this one off their backs.

The faintest edges of a feral smile. The swordsman was very skilled. The mana rippled lightly through him as he twisted and spun; and Alleycat could appreciate that skilled ebb and flow, even bitterly envy it against her own current inadequacies. Another time, she'd have been pleased to learn from that skill. Here and now --

Nothing personal in it, not from his side or hers. It was simply a condition of the circumstances. For Alleycat to get her charges out, the swordsman would have to die. She'd seen the earlier vault onto the upper floor, drawing a target, yes, but it got the job done. The old street samurai knew what he was doing.

She had all the time in the world to realise that he didn't.

Skilled well enough on his own grounds, probably -- he had the feel of a survivor -- but within a fraction of a second the swordsman had managed to draw him into an environment completely of his own choosing. This is exactly why you don't let these things get personal, Alleycat. How easily the swordsman had sidestepped, feinted one Manhunter aside and smoothly redirected the spitting bullets of the other to chew up the ancient pseudo-wood floors of the warehouse. The same motion continued without losing any of the momentum, vertical arc pulling Scrapheap's guard high, turning on the downstroke to become a vicious horizontal slash before the air even had a chance to fill with splinters and the reek of oil and old chemicals. The bright tang of freshly drawn blood nearby added a new component to the haze and dust and desperation.

This one was out of the old street samurai's class. She could feel the moment of realisation, the man's dawning desperation as he began to understand that he wouldn't be among those escaping. Maybe honour or personal or whatever had gotten him engaged in the first place; but now it was entirely likely that he would never be able to disengage until the adept's sword tore him open. It was only a matter of time, and this one wasn't the kind to play with his prey. No one else here to help him. Somewhere she could hear the soft hiss of a smoke grenade about to go off. Before it could, this battle would be over. The swordsman hadn't even broken a sweat.

In the moment of clarity, his desperation became hers.

In a dazzling instant the familiar patterns came to her, in a way she'd never thought to evoke them, and with a power she'd never before managed on her own, unaided. The mana streaked agonisingly through her body, her nerves, the link which bound the swordsman to her. Eagerly she embraced the familiar flaying pain which shaped her will -- and then she released it.

[Konsaki]

19:53:47 Thursday, 11 January 2063 - Tooth and Nail, West Galer St, Downtown Seattle, UCAS
Leon Mordred

As the roaring music reached its crescendo for the final section of the jamming colophony, Joel barely heard Leon yelling his way. It took a few minutes before the message finally got across clear to the bartender, mainly because the set had ended and the band was taking a quick breather. There was a period where the moshing of the crowd halted for a few seconds as they cheered at the live band before almost instantly demanding more of the roaring beats.
In that short little timeframe, Leon was able to complete the transaction by deducting the cost from his credstick. Just as he put it away and reached for the drinks, the jamming base started reverberating through the entirety of his being. Picking up the two drinks, the feline changeling made his way through the crowd that was forming at the bar as people mobbed to get something to refresh themselves from the mosh.

Once making his way out of the throng, Leon had little trouble getting to Freya. Handing her the drink without saying anything, as his voice probably wouldn’t carry over the sound waves the giant speakers were producing. Still, no words really had to be exchanged for the elder brother to know his sister wasn’t really thrilled to be on this floor of the club.
Saying something unintelligible to get her attention, he gave a motion to have her follow him out through the sound shielded area towards the main stairs. She wondered where they were going, but was still relieved that the deafening sounds and odd views were fading as they climbed the stairs. Once he figured the sound was manageable to talk, he turned slightly, still going up the stairs, to say, “You might like this floor better. It has more of your kind of music and less… moshing.�
“Good…�, the multicolored elf replied back. “Thanks for the drink, big bro. What do I owe you?� Hearing this, Leon turned back and chucked, “You don’t owe me anything, the ‘soda’ is free here.�, he joked as he looked at the drink which was obviously not soda. Getting the hint, she smiled back up and continued towards the next floor.

The closer they got, the more the hard rock had faded out and a trance-like techno waves had taken over. The view that joined them was one of laser lights and light fog which had lightly rolled down the stairs before dissipating. In the mix was a dance floor, on which a similar throng like on the floor below, but instead of the violent mosh there was the smoothly flowing and swaying dance as people got close to rub and tease.
“Yeah, this is much better.�, Freya said with a smile as she quickly got the rhythm of the synth down and started slightly swaying and twisting to warm up. Leon just chuckled again, “Heh. I figured you would like this more than the techno country they have on the first floor. Though some of the stuff they come up with isn’t too bad…� Shrugging, he took a sip of the hard whiskey in the glass he held, feeling it burn down his throat to sit in his gut, warming his already sweating body.

[Sedna]

07:58:14 Wednesday January 14, 2063 - Soon to be the Reflecting Pool magic shop, Downtown Seattle

Andie steps out of the light rain to find himself instantly enveloped in a bright din of activity, labourers of all nationalities and races laughing and shouting and cursing at each other and, once, at him, when he didn't duck his head quite quickly enough to avoid a length of board being swung around. The materials engineering degree isn't trades, he'd never bothered to do a practicum after he Awakened, and he doesn't understand most of what is going on around him. He doesn't have to. After all, that's what he is paying Solomon for.

Dusha shakes himself off, nostrils flaring at all the interesting new scents.

Here a troll is gradually reducing a small pyramid of differently sized pipes, transporting them off to various parts of the warehouse to become part of the water and sewage network. Somewhere over there an ork in heavy coveralls and a facemask is doing something that involves some serious sparking. "Good work," someone had once said to him, when he wondered at how quickly the small army of workers had materialised. "Safe work."

Safe work?

Rumours. There were always rumours, but to hear them talk there seemed to be even more rumours of late. Unexplained fatal fires in Auburn. Helicopters gone down over Puyallup during that snowstorm. Tradespeople gone missing after working on this or that project. Incidents in and around Sea-Tac, an airplane somehow managing a landing almost on the runway even though all its navigation equipment had suddenly shorted out, multiple car accidents; even a running gunfight through the parking garages if the more extreme of the rumours had any substance. Rumours even mentioned something called the Vory were getting involved, some new group Andie had never heard of and didn't really care about, so long as they weren't getting involved here.

But Solomon had a reputation for thoroughness, and also for fairness among these people. If he said a project was on the level, then odds were it probably was. His money was always good, and far, far safer to earn and to spend.

Besides, this was central-east downtown, edging on the university district. How bad could things be?

[Vegas]

10:36:21 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

“Of course Detectives. Thank you both very much for being straight with me, I appreciate not being treated like a child.�

She rose up out of her chair and offered her hand to both detectives in turn giving each of them a firm shake before she walked out of the room in a daze. She walked through the lobby and outside the front doors and was hardly surprised to see her three friends lurking down the block. She knew they wouldn’t go far. They were predictable as they were trustworthy.

The group quickly closed the distance and Lana was faced with a tough decision. Tell her friends everything and possibly put her sister’s life in jeopardy as well as her own and that of her friends, or just carefully dodge the truth and play her cards carefully without outright lying to those who trusted her. Aidan didn’t waste any time trying to get details.

“So what did the cops want that was so important they had to talk to you alone babe?�

She shook her head, it was hard for her to get the words out at first.

“They found… There was… a body in my apartment.�

She let those words sink in for a moment before she said anything else.

“They don’t know if it was Niki or not.�

She felt Aidan’s arms go around her and pulled her close and she just lost it. All the false bravado was gone, all the stress of the last 36 hours came out of her all at once as she fell apart in his arms.

[grendel]

11:56:22 Monday, January 8, 2063 - Aurora Village Shopping Center Food Court

Sybersnake paused to sip from whatever strange blend of coffee products filled the clear plastic cup sitting in front of her before starting her narrative.

"All right, I won't bore you with all of the details because most aren't germane to the discussion. But the essential nature of the matter is that I picked up a corporate job to locate three individuals who were in Seattle on counterfeit papers. Location tracking only, very hands off, basic surveillance type stuff. The job was fairly straightforward, and should only have been complicated by the quality of my targets' forged identities.

Shortly after beginning my searches, though, I was burned out of my workshop by a joint matrix force which had all the hallmarks of the Falling Fang, Saeder-Krupp's secretive cabal of elite hackers. Can I say for sure it was them? No, but my instincts tell me so. If that is the truth, then it opens all kinds of unsettling questions:

Why is Saeder-Krupp after me? If they wanted me dead, I'd be dead already. If they wanted to frame me for something, there are easier ways than an elaborate charade involving hiring me. If they want me for something else, then why the charade at all? I'm a mercenary hacker, I'll take their money just like anyone else's."

Sybersnake paused to sip from her drink again, eyes scanning the crowd drifting through the food court, sifting the faces for anything suspicious. Dragon and Erebus waited silently, a patience born from operational briefings where it was much better to hold your questions until all the information had been imparted. The slim hacker shook her head.

"It just doesn't make sense. There's got to be another reason why. I can't help but think that once I understand their motivations, I'll be able to see a way out of this mess."

[Cthulhu449]

21:03:33 Wednesday, 10 January 2063- Outside the Sundowner Tavern, 14640 58th Ave S. Seattle, UCAS

“Yes, I’ll take one, thank you,�

Leo nodded his head and took the offered cigarette, bringing it to his mouth and taking a quick drag. He let the smoke hang warmly in his lungs while continuing to speak from the throat.

“I’ll try not to hit him over the head too many times,� the Russian said finally exhaling, “he should only have a slight lisp when all is said and done.� The corner of Leo’s lip twitched into a tiny smile, like a candle flicking in the wind, before returning to the stable deadpan. “It is a pleasure working with you; I will make sure he is ready on Friday. I suppose I should go speak with him now.�

Leonid excused himself, shaking Isir’s hand and pocketing the gear the other man offered in a deep coat pocket. He turned about and pushed back into the diner, bells jangling to announce his reentrance.

“No smoking, hon,� the waitress admonished him, pointing halfheartedly without looking to a sign posted on the door, “see where it says?�

“I don’t have an ashtray,� Leo shrugged, crossing the distance between himself and the counter in two long strides and sitting down beside the pouting mage. The waitress huffed, put her hands on her hips and scowled at him in a most matronly manner. Then her face softened and she sighed, “Oh well, just don’t ash all over the floor.�

“Are you ready to get out of here and set up shop?� he asked his new charge.

[WinterRat1]

11:59:27 Monday, January 8, 2063 - Aurora Village Shopping Center Food Court

Dragon looks over at Erebus. "That's the basic gist of the situation. You still want in?"

The elf looks back and nods. "I already told you, I need the action. So what next?"

Glancing at Sybersnake, Dragon replies, "There are some...peripheral issues in this as well. Virgil is working on some of them, but we've still got to deal with a few more. Sybersnake, would you like to explain the other major items our 'to do' list?"

Implicit in his question is an inquiry as to how much, exactly, she wants to reveal about Roberto. Obviously they'll have to tell him if they want Erebus's help, but Dragon would prefer it came from her mouth, not his.

[WinterRat1]

10:42:39 Thursday, 11 January 2063, Metropolitan Park Apartments, 601 S. Washington St., Seattle

No one said anything for a moment as she fell apart, then Kat whispered, "Oh my god..." and raised her hand to her mouth, as if the physical gesture would help prevent her from saying any more.

Everyone stood in silence for several minutes, Lana sobbing uncontrollably in Aidan's arms.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were were just kids. Maybe they liked to pretend they were hard, jaded and worldly, but deep down inside, this was the kind of stuff they thought only happened on the trid. Now they'd had brushes with bunraku parlors, stalkers with rumored Mob connections, suspicious fires in apartments and burned out corpses, all of which were way over their heads.

Finally Razor spoke up tentatively, which was even scarier. Maybe the hardest guy in their circle, if he was rattled, that meant things were getting even more out of control than they thought.

"So...what do we do now?"

[WinterRat1]

01:00:04 Wednesday, 10 January, 2063 - A Warehouse in the Barrens

The sword came fiercely towards Scrapheap's stomach, a steel implement of death glistening from the raindrops falling across the blade. Frantically the old samurai tried to move out of the way, throwing his arms down to knock the swordsman's attack wide. He almost succeeded. In his younger days, he certainly would have.

But now, slowed by old age and the ravages of time, the blade cut into his side instead, digging into his abdomen. The wound wasn't deep as it could have been, but little wounds had a nasty way of adding up to big ones. Judging from the frustrated snarl on the swordsman's face, he had every intention of adding quite a few more to his foe's body before he was willing to call it quits.

Whether he would have succeeded or not was a question Scrapheap was grateful he'd never have to answer. His foe suddenly and inexplicably screamed in pain, dropping his katana and falling to his knees, arms wrapped around his body as clawing at himself, as if wracked with agony from within.