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

[bclements]

12:13.45 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

Tony stands around in the shop's office, looking at the assorted innards of the computer layed out on the desk while Marquis takes the truck out for a spin. Finally bored of the seemingly random assembly of circuit boards, processors, and other electronic menutia that make up the modern computer, he stuffs his hands in his pockets while he looks around the office. His psec hums; Drek, forgot to turn it off vibrate and he sees that Todd emailed him.

Typing out a quick reply as he sees Marquis pulling up in the Workhorse

[Scrapheap]

17:06:35 Monday 08 January 2063 - Finn's apartment, Loveland Quinn's Bar, Puyallup

"Yeah. Thanks, Finn. That goes for you too, chummer. Don't get too nosy over this drek." Not that I expect he'll listen to me any more than Rosie did, but I had to say somethin' there.

John took the small stack of printed materials, then turned to give Finn a friendly pat on the back. "Talk to you soon, chum. Call me if you hear anything, or find anyone willing to work on the cheap."

"Nul persp." Leaning forward so that he could see the three gangers, the decker added, "Hey, you three. Keep an eye on this old man. He's getting senile in his old age, and every once in a while he gets all confused and thinks it's 2053. Sometimes, he just needs to be reminded of the date."

John glared while Twiggy and Tyler gave each other a confused glance. Megan however, got the drift immediately. "I scan ya, chummer. We'll keep him outta trouble if we can." Grabbing John around the arm, like a boyscout leading an old lady across the street, she pulled him in the direction of the door. "C'mon, old-timer. Let's get going." John glared angrily over his shoulder to where Finn sat in his pleather chair, head thrown back in laughter, but allowed the young elf to lead him from the apartment.

[Scrapheap]

17:56:43 Monday 08 January 2063 - Northbound on I-405

"Whoa! Watch it, you fraggin' fragger!" John leaned into the van's surprisingly loud horn for added emphasis as the sleek Westwind cut them off and crossed several lanes. As it flew past, the sportscar's passenger gave him the single-finger salute. "Grr! See? This is why I avoid the interstate! I knew we should have went locals."

"No one made you go this way, pops." Megan sat slumped in the passenger seat, dirty boots propped onto the dash. "Besides, I 'member you sayin' that this would be faster."

"At least we ain't run into no go-gangs," Twiggy added.

"Yet." Tyler sat fiddling with his knife and ignored the worried look his young friend shot his direction.

"Nah, no problem there. Here's our exit." John carefully signalled and took the 85th Street exit. Unless the situation required something radical, he always drove like an old lady. Why give LoneStar an easy reason to pull you over?

"Where we goin' again?" Twiggy asked while looking out the side window.

Sighing, John answered, "I already told you: I need to talk to a friend of mine. Bigwig with the Brain Eaters. So we're going to one of their safehouses." Fraggin' kids...

"Yeah, but where?"

"It's in Touristville, all right? On fraggin' 85th and 158th! Relax, we're almost there."

"85th ain't no straight-shot, chummer." Tyler looked up from his knife. "You need to hang a louie on..."

"I know how to fraggin' get there! What the frag? I have been there before." Looking into the rearview mirror he added, "You know, I did manage to survive before I met you three."

Megan snorted beside him. "Yeah, chummer. Look where that got ya."

[Scrapheap]

18:26:02 Monday 08 January 2063 - Corner of 85th and 158th Streets, Touristville, Redmond

"Where we goin' now, old man?" Walking with the hood up and her hands stuffed deep into her oversized jacket's pockets made Megan looked even younger. "I don't see no gang hide-out. I hope it ain't too far, cause it's fraggin' freezing out here!"

Taking a drag from his ever-present cigarette, John pointed across the street. "That close enough for ya?"

The building he indicated was a medium-sized brick and glass structure that looked like it had been built in the early years of the century. Of course, like most everything in Redmond, it had seen better days. Several of the large windows were either cracked or replaced with platsi-wood sheeting and the brick was pock-marked from small-arms fire. Above the entrance the words "Redmond Public Library" could be faintly seen, though just in outline. At some point, raised letters spelling out the building's name had adorned the facade, but those were long gone now.

"Still don't look like any gang-house I ever saw." Tyler added, eying the structure critically.

"The Eaters ain't your typical gang. C'mon." John jogged across the street after waiting for a dented Jackrabbit to pass.

As the unlikely quartet made their way to the building, through what was probably a well-landscaped garden in better days, they noticed a mixed-race group loitering near the entrance. As they got closer, a dwarf male separated from the rest and approached. "Hoi, Scrapheap. What gives? We was lookin' for ya yesterday, cause your sis told some of the boys you was droppin' by. He'd never say so, but I think Slim Jim was worried 'bout ya when you didn't show."

After executing a complicated handshake with the dwarf, John looked at the larger group of gangers and the building before dropping his gaze and replying. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that, Digger. Things came up."

Digger displayed a series of chipped and gold teeth in a wide smile. "So ka. Bidness or pleasure?"

"Business. Personal business, unfortunately. Slim inside?"

"Yeah, lemme let him know youse here." Turning, the dwarf whistled and motioned to one of the other gangers near the doors. A slim human immediately tossed down a cigarette butt and went inside. Digger turned back and looked at John's companions. "Who's dis?"

"Friends. They're chill." John looked up as the human returned, nodding once to Digger.

"Go 'head. Better not keep 'im waitin' dis time." As the group walked away, Digger smiled at Megan. "How you doin,' sweetie?"

Giving him a disgusted glance, she replied, "Frag off, creep."

The dwarf and his companions threw back their heads in laughter as John held the door and motioned the rest inside.

[Bastard]

12:14.00 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Well its brand new, but once you drive it off the lot the value drops somewhere between 35 to 50%. The mileage is low, but we may have to bring that up to match the replacement vehicle, but I doubt that. I'm sure we could get at least 50% of the value, but I'll tweak it a bit so you can get more. Some nice wheels and maybe we could slam it or lift it. Tint the windows jet black. You know, the regular stuff."

[bclements]

12:14.45 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Yeah, we could put some ruthinium and neon rims on there. Make it look like some wannabe ganger's ride." Tony said, laughing to himself. "Do what you think would make it sell for the most profit. As for selling, how about a 30% cut of the sale price for you?"

[Bastard]

12:15.00 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Depends on how much work I got to put into this thing. If I put 1000 :nuyen: into a lift kit, which could raise the vehicles sell value by maybe 2000 :nuyen: , I would only see 600 :nuyen: back."

[bclements]

12:15.24 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Ok..." Tony said softly, bending his head down and thinking. "We'll tack reasonable expenses onto it. I don't want to see all the money evaporate with mods, but I do know you've got to spend some nuyen to make some more. How's that sound?" he finished, enjoying the negoiations.

[Bastard]

12:15.24 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"That will work, I will probably cut the mods down a bit."

[bclements]

12:15.38 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Very good. Let me call a cab to get out of your way. By the way, you got a number I can reach you at? Or is just calling you here ok?" Tony said nonchalantly, pulling out his psec.

[Bastard]

12:15.45 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

Marquis relays his number to Tony, "You should be able to reach me at anytime on that number. Are you sure I cant give you a lift. I got to go pick up some parts before I get started, I can drop you off along the way."

[bclements]

12:15.53 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"I'm headed out to Sea-Tac. If you want to give me a ride, I'll take it." Tony says, filing Marquis's contact information into his psec.

[Bastard]

12:16.10 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Yeah no problem, I wouldn't have offered otherwise," Marquis gives him a smile as they head toward the glazed classic. The alarm chirps as it is dissarmed, the doors unlock, and the engine starts. "Hop in."

The soft purr of the Cadillac's engine is swallowed up by the heavy rumble of an old Chevy big block rounding the corner. The sound is followed by a red paint job that jumps out of the grey and white background. The '70 Chevelle slows to a stop behind Tony and Marquis.

A large hispanic male emerges from car. "Good morning Chavo," Marq give him a wave. Chavez replies with morning pleasentries as well, "Good morning." He heads into the shop to start work on the Workhorse sitting in the garage.

"Thats the other mechanic, he's gonna get to work on the pickup, while I go and find a replacement. Ready to roll?" Marq asks as he slides into the driver seat.

[bclements]

12:16.25 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

Tony looks wide eyed at the pair of obviously old hell, practically ancient, but very well kept cars before him. Drek, a guy that can keep these running can definatly do what I need done with that Workhorse. Getting into the passenger seat of the old Caddie, Tony notices the very well kept and updated interior. "Wow, man, this is a nice ride. Be careful out there; the snow's still messing people up. I'd hate for you to have to wreck this nice of a ride."

[Bastard]

12:16.45 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Thanks. Just got to keep it away from other drivers. Once you know how to handle the snow, its not so bad. A lot easier than rain, I tell you. At least you know when youre going to slide on snow, rain kind of sneaks up on you." The STS rolls off easily, en route to Sea-Tac long term parking.

[bclements]

12:18.31 Thursday 11 January 2063- Cooper's Automotive, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

"Yeah, driving isn't my strong suit, though. Just a way to get me from point A to point B. Of course, having a ride like this could change my mind," Tony says, still glancing around at the spacious interior. I think you could fit my Americar in here he thinks to himself as the car takes off from a stoplight onto the onramp for I-5.

[Scrapheap]

18:38:24 Monday 08 January 2063 - Brain Eater's Headquarters, Touristville, Redmond

John led his younger companions through the doorway and into the graffiti-covered interior of the former library, nodding to several Brain Eaters as they walked past. The first room the small group encountered had been converted into a sort of lounge. A large trid unit had been installed where the Information Desk once stood, and several couches and chairs littered the rest of the area. Cables and wires seemed to string everywhere and the floor and table-tops were littered with empty bottles and chip holders, general trash, and the occasional piece of electronic junk. There were several gang members in the area, some with deck-cases slung over their shoulders or carefully placed nearby. A few glanced up as the group walked past, nodding to the aging runner. One said, "Hoi, Scrapheap. Good to see ya."

In response, Megan looked at John, her head cocked to one side. "You seem pretty popular here, old man. You a member or somethin' like that?"

"Me? Nah. Did a favor for one once, long time ago now. They got a long memory. When I decided to get clean, they helped me out by throwin' the occasional job my way."

"Like a shadowrun?" Twiggy asked, slightly wide-eyed.

"More like an oil-change. I helped keep their cars and bikes running, ran some cable, helped fix some lights in the building, that sort of thing."

"Wow, sounds wiz." Megan added dryly.

John shrugged. "Meant a lot to me. This way."

He led the way up a wide flight of stairs to the second floor, into a large open area. Steel bookshelves lined the perimeter of the room, some still containing books. The rest of the space was cluttered with work-tables, littered with tools and large amounts of electronic equipment in various states of assembly. A few areas had been sectioned-off using large sheets of black plastic hung from the ceiling. Several Eaters worked at various tables, though most ignored them. If they'd gotten this far without incident, they were supposed to be here.

"What the frag is this?" Tyler asked.

"Long time ago, Redmond was a big player in the tech sector, right? Even before the megacorps, some fraggin' big companies called it home. One of the ways these guys make their money is by scavenging the electronic left-overs."

"Actually, we prefer the term 'recycle.'" A tall human in his mid-twenties looked up from a nearby table as he said this. He was wearing torn and stained jeans and a faded concert t-shirt from some troll thrasher band John had never heard of before. "How's it going, John? Sorry we missed you yesterday."

"Hoi, Slim Jim! Didn't see you there, chummer." After giving the young ganger the same handshake that he'd shared with the dwarf downstairs, John continued. "Yeah, sorry 'bout yesterday, Slim. Had some drek to do, took longer than expected." Pausing for a second, he added, "Got somewhere we can talk?"

Slim Jim looked at the older man for a second, then at the three young people accompanying him, before replying. "Sure, chummer. Follow me." Standing, he was a couple of inches taller than John, almost as tall as an elf. Shrugging into an armored jacked decorated in Brain Eaters' colors, he led the way into a nearby room and closed the door.

[Bastard]

12:19.08 Thursday 11 January 2063- Interstate 5, Downtown Seatle, UCAS

The I-5 used to be a real son of a slitch before they widened it, again. Not to say it still isn't, but at least you never come to a complete stop anymore. The snow has all been blown to the side of the freeway from heavy traffic throughout the winter, making the road much easier to handle, even with winter tires. The STS rolls along around 70 mph, along with the flow of the faster traffic. It stands out among the duller cars also sharing the interstate.

Marquis turns the dial on the radio to pick up The E&T Show. "Hey Tony, you like Earnie and the Troll? These guys are hilarious."

[bclements]

12:21.57 Thursday 11 January 2063- Interstate 5( heading toward Sea-Tac International Airport), Downtown Seatle UCAS

Catching himself laughing at the gonzo antics on the radio, Tony replies "I've caught the Matrix replay a few times. Those guys can be wiz, and they bring in the ratings. Mostly, though, I'm a news guy. ," he says, as The Troll spouts out "BUT I'M A TROLL!?!" to some canned laughter and various sound effects.

Laughing silently, and still admiring the car as it drives very comfortably down the road, he finally gets up the nerve to ask a question. "Maybe I picked the wrong line of work; I wouldn't mind having a ride like this. Just what do you do?" Tony inquired, stretching out a bit in the ample seat of the car. Jesus, to have a ride like this when I was with Andie.

[Scrapheap]

18:54:07 Monday 08 January 2063 - Brain Eater's Headquarters, Touristville, Redmond

Slim Jim sat behind a scarred wooden desk, feet propped on the cluttered top, a chipped bowl of instant miso steaming between cupped hands. He sat silently, deep in thought, though he occasionally blew on the soup to speed its cooling. He hadn't spoken since John had made his proposal, though he had asked several questions as the older runner and the gangers had recounted the series of events leading up to this point. Finally he sat forward and, moving aside a stack of optical chips to make room, carefully sat the bowl of hot soup on the desk.

"So, let me get this straight: You want me to send a group of Brain Eaters with you to raid this clinic, including someone capable of cracking an isolated system of unknown parameters, which may or may not even exist, and our payment would be whatever we could haul away from the building plus a share of any paydata from this theoretical isolated system? Am I missing anything?"

John felt his face flush slightly as the young gang-boss spoke. "C'mon, chummer, it ain't so bad as you make it out. At the least you would get some high-end electronics you could flip. At most, if this fraggin' place is up to no good like we think, then you get the paydata and the electronics. Plus you get the word out that the Eaters are ready to take the next step and become major players. Branch out."

"Yeah, I got all that. Thing is, I'm not sure I want to 'branch out.' We do pretty well as it stands. We have our niche, we're good at it, and we're respected for it. We do this thing for you and word naturally spreads. Soon enough, we get other offers; other jobs. Jobs we maybe can't refuse. We get exposed."

"What do you mean: exposed?" Megan asked while waving John's cigarette smoke out of her face.

"I mean exposed, girl. Exposed to jealousy and competition from other gangs and criminal elements. Exposed to increased scrutiny and pressure from the 'Star. Exposed to increased attention from any number of megas, including whoever is behind your clinic." Wrapping his hands around the bowl, he took a sip of miso before adding, "Exposed. Sorry, chummer, but I don't think I can do it. The reward here does not outweigh the possible risk.

"However," he quickly continued as John's face darkened, "before you get your hoop all bent out of shape, that doesn't mean that I can't help. I have a kid, real talented but raw, who I think could crack your isolated system. Interested?"

John took a drag off his cigarette and composed himself before replying. "Of course I'm fraggin' interested. I came here lookin' for help, right? But why're you willin' to risk this kid when you won't risk anyone else?"

"Good question. Like I said: the kid's talented. He's not going to settle for the kind of stuff we do around here for much longer. Soon enough he'd need greater challenges, and eventually he'd head out on his own looking for the bigger and better. This way, I get him headed in the right direction under the watchful eye of someone I trust. Then when his someday comes and he's a big, bad shadowrunner, maybe he remembers who gave him his first deck." Finishing, Slim took another sip from the chipped bowl and settled back into his chair.

John watched the young gang-boss as cigarette smoke curled around him, it's source momentarily forgotten in his hand. Another fraggin' kid to babysit! But if Slim says he's good then that means something.

"A'ight, chummer. 500 :nuyen: upfront, and we split the haul from whatever paydata he gets 60/40. Larger to him. Plus, when I go in it'll be short notice. Maybe tonight. Can he be ready?"

"Nul sheen, John. As far as terms, that sounds fair." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled an older p-sec out, fiddled with it a minute, and then settled it into a cradle on his desk. Immediately, a printer chirped to life and spat out a small sheet of cheap paper. Tearing it off, the ganger handed the sheet to John. On the sheet was a blurry image of the kid in question and his contact information.

Replacing the p-sec, Slim Jim stood and said, "I'll talk to him. Let him know that you may need his help and that he needs to be ready." He walked around the desk before adding, "I'm glad that's settled. If there's nothing else, I really need to get back. Take care, John, and good luck finding your niece. Don't be a stranger."

[Scrapheap]

22:28:57 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

John slowly straightened from the junction box, placed his hands on his lower back, and proceeded to stretch. For the past hour or so, he'd been repairing a short in the Respite's kitchen lighting, apparently caused by a stray shot during Keira's abduction. He'd had to rewire a good portion of the line leading to the room's overhead lighting where the original material had been fried. It had been beyond saving and it was a miracle that it hadn't started fire.

He quickly replaced the cover, then turned to where Twiggy and Megan were sorting through the food in the large fridges, saving what they could. "Hoi. One of you go over and try the lights when I say."

Twiggy, who John had earlier ordered not to leave his sight, looked at Megan. Never at a loss for words, she quickly replied, "Your legs don't look broke, chummer. We're busy."

"Just fraggin' do it." Grumbling under his breath as he walked over to the utility closet that hosted the building's main electrical, John flipped the breaker labeled "kitchen, overhead" and called out, "Ok, give it a shot."

The overhead fluorescents flared to life, causing the old runner to display a rare grin of pleasure. Glad to see I can still do somethin' right. Closing the breaker box door, and then the closet, John then turned to survey the clean-up effort and decide what to do next.

After the meeting with Slim Jim, and lacking an immediate "next step" while waiting for the phone to ring, the young gangers had talked him into returning to the Respite to check on their friends. When they arrived, John had been amazed at the progress. Most of the food and other mess had been cleaned up, and all of the salvagable furniture had been turned over and was in the process of being cleaned. The four had immediately joined the effort. Tyler and Megan helped haul broken furniture out back, while John had re-attached the front doors, with limited help from Twiggy.

Finishing the doors, which were still quite dented but would now close (with a little shoving), he'd started on the lighting. Somewhere in there he'd managed to call Etta with an update, though he'd had to hang-up on her again, and he'd received a call from Finn. His friend had informed him that he'd managed to find a decker willing to help, though she wanted 750 :nuyen: upfront instead of 500. According to Finn, he'd used her a couple of times before and she was good, but still new enough that she couldn't afford to pass-up work. John had taken her contact info and told Finn that he'd let her know.

John, lost in thought, returned to the present as Tyler walked up and said, "Hoi. Wiz job on the lights. What's next?"

"Well..." was all he managed to get out before he heard his phone begin to ring. "I guess just fraggin' do whatever. See if anyone needs help, right? I gotta get that call."

It took John a few seconds to find his jacket and retrieve his phone. Finally, he flipped it open and said, "Go."

A deep, rich voice replied, "It’s Max. I have finished my prior engagement this evening and am ready to help find Keira and Nora. Meet me at 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower in Bellevue. I will inform the night guard of your impending arrival. Take the elevator to the 41st Floor and I meet you there."

Using his shoulder to hold the cell phone against his ear, John pulled out a pen and wrote the address onto his meat hand. "A'ight, Max. I'll head over now. We got lots to talk about. Oh, hope you don't mind, but I should probably bring my little entourage. Don't worry, chummer, they'll be good. See ya in a few." Disconnecting, he replaced the phone and went looking for the rest of his little group. Finally, we're gettin' somewhere.

[Bastard]

12:22.13 Thursday 11 January 2063- Interstate 5( heading toward Sea-Tac International Airport), Downtown Seatle UCAS

"Don't mind at all. Actually I do a lot of custom jobs in vehicles and weapons. It helps that I really don't have to look for work, there is always something to do. It also helps if you love what you do, kind of makes it not so much work and somewhat of a hobby."

The car continues on across the I-5 toward the airport. The comedy of the two radio dj's continue, "Yeah, but your even dumb on troll standards!"

[grendel]

12:28:42 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Sea-Tac International Airport, Long Term Parking Terminal, Seattle, UCAS

Marquis and Tony are still chuckling from the latest exchange between the two DJs as the Cadillac pulls into the parking garage.

"It's back in the corner there." Tony gestured towards the rear of the vast concrete structure, checking through his pockets to make sure he wouldn't leave anything behind when he exited the vehicle. Movement up ahead catches his eye, though, as the vehicle rounds a corner.

"Slow up a second," he says, a slow cold moving out from the base of his spine.

"Huh?" Marq glances over at Tony in confusion, then back at the windshield when he sees the grim expression on Tony's face.

In the blocky U formed by the parking garage's adjacent aisles of cars are eleven people. Five stand to one side, facing four others about seven meters apart. Between them are two others, a man lying on his back and a woman kneeling over him. All of them hold weapons. Pistols dominate, but also present are a pair of submachineguns and a sawed off shotgun. As the brilliant white beams of the Caddy's headlights sweep across the tableau, their heads turn as one to stare at the car. The nine standing are all Japanese, while the two in the center appear to be caucasian. The weapons never waver from their points of aim, though. The group of five has drawn down on the group of four, and vice versa. The woman's pistol is held at low ready, her face suffused with desperate hope and fear. Time seems to slow as the Caddy negotiates the turn.

"Oh drek," says Tony.

[bclements]

12:28:47 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Sea-Tac International Airport, Long Term Parking Terminal, Seattle, UCAS

"Oh. Drek."

Taking in the scene in front of him, the two sets of assailants? assassins? punks? runners?, moving their heads to stare back at the turning car, the whole scene illuminated in the harsh white light of the headlamps. Hard to believe that I was laughing just a minute ago Tony thought to himself as he quickly tried to think of a way out of the situation.

Fear entered into his mind, wanting to carry him away. And there was an open path to the side of the group, big enough for Marq's car to slide past the ensemble and get to Tony's Americar, then out of here probably to never see them again. That fear was quickly replaced by another emotion as Tony saw the women, with her look of despiration, and the prone man she was kneeling over. That, combined with the day he had been having, pushed him in another direction.

Goshen looked like that too. Only those gangers didn't have an arsenal when they came calling. But I've got one too,just a few meters away... he thinks to himself, the outline of an idea coming into his mind...

"How well can you drive, Marq?" Tony says softly, as if the group outside could hear him if he spoke too loudly. Eyes still pointed toward the group, he mentally calms himself while removing his safety belt slowly, hand catching his pistol out of its holster smoothly on the return motion.

[Bastard]

12:28:52 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Sea-Tac International Airport, Long Term Parking Terminal, Seattle, UCAS

"Oh drek," Tony says, half under his breath.

"Is that Yakuza...?"

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

"How well can you drive, Marq?" Tony says softly...

"Im no Jeff Gordon, Jr., but I have a more important question: What is your plan?"