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

[WinterRat1]

01:06:59 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Industrial Park

Working quickly and stealthily, Iris manages to have the lock on the front door disabled in under a minute. Far from the best Scrapheap’s ever seen but certainly good enough for the circumstances. As soon as the red light on the maglock turns green, with the telltale beep, she moves out of the way hastily, not wanting to get in between a wizworm and his targets.

It doesn’t really matter, I’m not targeting it at her anyway. Oh well, no time to tell her, Max, no, the Professor thinks to himself. Concentrating hard, brow furrowing under the stress of casting a spell so soon after summoning a spirit, not to mention the stress of his first ever premeditated assault and battery with magical force, illegal breaking and entering, trespassing, unlawful intrusion with the intent to commit a crime, and a host of other laws he was breaking that he didn’t even want to think about…

He forced himself to concentrate and let the mana flow through him, and when he had shaped it the way he wanted it, let it loose in a stunball that arced towards the two security guards. It worked like a charm on one of them, who silently slumped in his chair and then hit the ground with a thud, completely unconscious. To his surprise though, the second shrugged it off without any effects whatsoever, his eyes widening for a moment before his body tensed, ready to dive for cover. And that’s when the drek hit the fan…

[Shadow]

03:00:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Ivan Ivan Ivan, when will learn comrade. Always, always put spare key in secret place. Now you lose key and you cannot get in. Well done.

Ivan stood outside the back door to his apartment. Well it was his only door really. The rental was contingent on him making himself as invisible as possible to the other renters. Something about 9 foot tall trolls scared them.

The snow was coming sown briskly and starting to pile up on the brim of his black Stetson. There he stood waiting for some form of inspiration. The building was four stories tall, 50 feet wide and two hundred long. His little apartment consisted of the unused portion of the basement that housed the boiler. It had no windows, or any access to the front court yard that was surrounded by two other identical buildings.

The weather was getting worse and he had only left to stock up on supplies. Now he was standing in the cold with three bags of groceries and no way into his apartment.

Except for kicking door down. Both loud and expensive.

The troll heave a big sigh. It was not his day.

[Shadow]

03:05:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle


Five minutes. Ivan stood motionless in the snow. His hat and immense shoulders collected the snow giving him a comical snowman look. He just didn't know what to do. He didn't want to damage the apartment, and he didn't want to call for help. He doubted the other renters would help him if he was lying bleeding at their doorstep.

You know, lock might give under strain, and not destroy whole door.


Ivan carefully sat the groceries down and moved into the slightly sheltered half stair case that led to his door. Looking to make sure no one was watching he popped the meter long titanium spur from his right forearm. The weapon made very little noise as it sliced through the door knob and lock.

The door gently blew in with the breeze.

Ivan shrugged. He had intended to attempt to pick the lock with the spur, not to slice right through it. But as often happened with the big troll, his intentions were not fulfilled.

[WinterRat1]

01:06:59 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Industrial Park

With the calm, practiced efficiency of one who’s seen many a run go sour before, Scrapheap raised his Ingram with lightning speed, bracing the stock against his shoulder, and let fly a quick, precise burst. The gel rounds raced through the air before the guard could dive for cover or call for help, and if they were really lucky, before any alarms could go off.

They hammered into the man with three dull thuds, causing him to jerk suddenly and drop to the floor, unconscious from the repeated impacts. No one else had had a chance to move.

“Cool…” Tyler breathed softly in the silence that followed.

Looking at him with a bit more respect, Iris nodded. “Not bad boss. Time for me to do my part now.”

Pulling up her hood, she moved into the lobby and pulled out her deck, then jacked into the computer, body going limp in the chair as her hands flew across the keyboard. Agonizing seconds ticked by, turning into a full minute. The others stood around, looking nervously at the street and back at the decker. Only Scrapheap stayed cool from the rising tension.

After about a minute and change, she opened her eyes and looked at Scrapheap, “Cameras are disabled, and I managed to erase the front lobby cameras as well. There’s nothing subtle about it, they’ll know someone did it, but they won’t be able to recover it. Course,” she looked down meaningfully at the guards, “I figured total stealth went out the window about a minute ago.”

[Slipshade]

01:10:03 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Lobby

It had all happened so fast, Professor wasn’t even sure how it went wrong. The incantation was correct and both guards were well within the theoretical range of the spell, but there he was staring into the man’s eyes and watching the realization that he had almost died. At least that was what the man thought. He didn’t know that Professor had only tried to render him unconscious. His aura previously a nice blue calm sparkled with surprise then swirled a dark green with fear at the realization of attack and then was gone. Scrapheap had whirled into the open door the moment the guard had failed to drop and fired, pitching the guard backwards onto the floor. There was a brief flash of pain and now a disturbing sort of calm to the unconscious man’s aura.

Professor moved inside with the rest of the group, his mind still racing. Was Knight Errant on their way? Did some security guards at one of the other buildings hear them? An infinite number of questions sprain to mind, the most prominent.

‘What the hell am I doing here?!?’

Iris was saying something, but it wasn’t until a Scrapheap gave him a little nudge that he was able to refocus on the situation. Not saying a word he nodded to the old street samurai, knowing if he wanted to get out of this, he had better just follow Scrapheap’s lead and do what was asked of him.

[bclements]

12:30:05 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Sea-Tac International Airport, Long Term Parking Terminal, Seattle, UCAS
Hearing the loud BOOM from what sounded like a grenade, Tony springs into action. Rock 'n Roll time he thinks to himself as he lets off a set of fire toward his front, his left, and in the middle, designed to make everyone dive for cover. As the car alarms start up, the Semopal's action rachets back again and again as the caseless ammo flies out of the barrel. Drek, don't think I've hit anything, but now you know where I'm at. Fire at me! he thinks, as he readies himself for the next round of fire.

[Bastard]

12:30:05 Thursday 11 January 2063 - Sea-Tac International Airport, Long Term Parking Terminal, Seattle, UCAS

Tony's automatic fire pounds into the smoke a split second before Marquis lets out his next few rounds. The concusion grenade has left him a bit dazed, so he lowers his right so he can concentrate on his target. Flipping the switch to Semi from Burst, Marq again attempts to drop the enemy on the other end of the pillar.

[Scrapheap]

01:07:03 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Lobby

As Iris quickly jacked-in at the security desk, Scrapheap slung his Ingram and drug both of the unconscious guards around the corner, one at a time. Oooff! Fatty here shouldn't been eatin' them doughnuts. Yeah, that or you need ta start workin' out, chummer. Specially if you plan to keep doin' drek like this.

Dropping the second guard's hands, he quickly searched each man. They each carried a new-looking Ares Predator, a set of metal handcuffs, and a spare clip. These he sat aside. With a sheepish glance over his shoulder, he then went through their pockets. The first guard carried only his credstick, but the second had a bit of paper money in addition to his 'stick, which Scrapheap quickly stuffed into his jacket pocket.

Working fast, he then moved the men so that they were back-to-back and handcuffed them together, securing each man's left wrist to his partner's left and right to right so that their arms were crossed behind them. Finishing them off by taping their legs together at the ankles, he stuffed the Predators and clips into his satchel and returned to the lobby.

He saw that Iris was beginning to stir as he stopped next to the Professor. A quick glance at the shaman was all he needed to see that the elf was a million kilometers away. His pale features were set in an expression somewhere between worry and shock. As the decker began to speak, Scrapheap gave the elf a slight nudge. The shaman swallowed and nodded, seeming to refocus. With a final concerned glance, the old samurai turned his full attention to Iris's report.

Finished speaking, the decker began to stuff her gear into her bag. She looked up as Scrapheap said, "Wiz job. A'ight, the guards're secure so let's keep movin." Looking to where Tyler stood watching the door with his Fichetti drawn, he added, "You all set here?"

The young ganger nodded and replaced Iris behind the counter. Satisfied, Scrapheap motioned for the others to follow and set a brisk pace as they moved deeper into the building. So far so good...

[Slipshade]

01:10:15 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic - Inside

Professor followed Scrapheap and Iris along the building corridors. He continued to scan for any signs of Keira, but there was nothing. Only the clinical feel of an astral space that had been scrubbed clean of something horrible. It did not take the group long to reach their destination and before he knew it Max was standing outside the door marked for the clinic’s Administrator.

[WinterRat1]

01:16:07 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic - Inside

Again, working quickly and decisively, Iris knelt down and began working the maglock. It took a bit longer this time, but the result was the same, another open door. Moving quickly to the administrator’s computer and setting up her deck, she looked at Scrapheap and asked, “You said you wanted me to hack the system. You want everything, a specific file or keyword I should look for, or just everything I can grab as fast as possible?”

[Scrapheap]

01:16:16 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic - Administrator’s Office

As the little LED on the maglock flashed to green, Scrapheap quickly cleared the office beyond. That done, he took up a position in the doorway allowing him a view of the hallway and office before motioning the other two team members inside. He listened to Iris's questions as she set up her gear, answering after a quick glance at the Professor.

"Do whatever's fastest. If it's all the same then first look for any mention of 'patients' and where they could have taken them. You know that we're mainly lookin' for anything on Nora and Keira, though I doubt they'll be listed by name. Second, anything about what went on here. Then get anything of value: personnel records, research data, all that drek. As much as you can." He paused a beat before adding, "If you think we should just fraggin' yank the whole case, we can do that too. Not like we're being sneaky here. Just check for traps or bugs first."

As the decker nodded and went back to work with a snap of gum, he turned to the shaman. "Professor, maybe you should go astral and check on our friends. Check the immediate area while you're at it. See if anyone's taken an unhealthy interest in the clinic." Nodding at Iris as she worked, he said, "This could take a while."

[bclements]

03:07:55 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Ivan walks into the apartment, stopping for a second to shake the snow off of himself on the strip of old orange carpet that served as a doormat to the basement apartment. Placing the plastic sacks of groceries down with a gentleness the belied his huge frame, he unthreads his Stetson from his head, brushes the accumulated snow off of the brim, and places it on the upturned box that served as an end table. Turning, he closes and latches the now lockless door.

Picking up the groceries, Ivan walks across the rough concrete floor of the basement toward the kitchenette. While putting up the groceries, he remembers something he didn't notice on the 4 block walk back from the store. No snowplows. This place not deal as well with winter as back home he thinks to himself as he remembers playing in the heaped snow as a child.

[Slipshade]

01:16:55 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Astral Space

Professor nods in return and finds a place in the corner of the office to sit down. He leans his head back against the wall and lets his consciousness slip from his body. Professor soared through the walls of the clinic to check on Tyler and then out into the night. He takes a number of loops around the grounds and checks in on the van as well.

[bclements]

03:15:55 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Just as Ivan finishes putting up the last of his groceries, his phone rings. Fishing in his coat pocket for the cheap cell phone he carries, he gets the device out with a gigantic paw. Checking the ID, the LTG comes up as ‘unreadable’ on the display.

Hitting the tiny ‘receive’ button on the phone doesn’t stop the ringing. Cursing softly, he gives the phone a gentle wack with the flat of his hand. That connects the call.

Ivan, omae. It’s Cross. You snowed in yet?

[Shadow]

03:16:25 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle


"Da comrade, snow is very thick, like mother Russia."

[bclements]

03:16:55 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Heh, well, the Sprawl isn’t set up to deal with this like the Motherland. Probably going to be lots of chaos tomorrow, which means I’ve got an opporutunity for you. I’ve got a meet scheduled for tomorrow at noon close to you. I’ll need you to represent me there. Should be simple, and it’ll net you :nuyen: 1500, plus a good bonus if you don’t exceed certain targets.

I’ll give you the details if you say da the electronically modulated voice stops, waiting for an answer.

[Shadow]

03:17:38 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Finally job is available.

"Da comrade, Ivan always willing for work."

[bclements]

03:18:44 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle

Excellent. A text message with detailing the job, the bonus scale, and the location will be shot to you at 0800. These guys are pros, but don’t hesitate to call it off if they act like drekheads. I’ll also include a LTG number to tell me how it goes and to make payment arraignments. It’ll be good from 1200 to 1400, call me as soon as you get clear of the meet with the results. Any questions? If not, I'll talk to you tomorrow afternoon. Stay warm.

[WinterRat1]

01:17:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Astral Space

Zooming through astral space, Professor zips around checking the building and the surrounding areas, trying to ascertain if anyone seems to have an unhealthy interest in them. So far, so good. Still, no sign of Keira. If the trail continues here, it’s going to continue electronically, not astrally.

01:17:00 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Astral Space

Meanwhile, back at the clinic in the meat world, no sooner has Iris jacked in when less than a minute later, alarms started going off in the building.

What the FRAG? I thought Finn said she was pretty good. Fragging amateur! were Scrapheap’s first thoughts, until his experience kicked in and told him that even if she was horrible, that was still an very quick response time for the alarms.

There wasn’t any reason for security on an isolated system, especially one in a place like this, to be that good unless something really interesting was on there. And if that was the case, why was physical and magical security so light? Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place his finger on it, and he couldn’t talk to her while she was in the Matrix to figure it out.

Do I jack her out and just go, or hang tough and let her do her job he wondered as the seconds ticked by.

Over the radio, Tyler’s voice crackled, “Boss! What’s going on up there!? The alarms are going nuts, and I can see on the computer screen that a Knight Errant team has been dispatched here. What should we do?”

[Scrapheap]

01:17:10 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Administrator’s Office

"It's a'ight, kid. The screen, does it give an ETA on the KE response team?"

Waiting for Tyler to answer, Scrapheap quickly searched the doorframe for anything they might have missed. Sensors, alarms, anything to explain the alarms that rang through the building. He then visually scanned the room, before his gaze settled on his "out-of-bodied" companions.

If the fraggin' alarms were set-off by Iris, then that system is hot. I'll give 'er as much time as possible before we have to dump her and yank the whole thing outta here.

Turning to where the Professor slumped in a corner, he shook his head. Max is already fraggin' on-edge. Hope these alarms don't flip him out. Frag, I hope I don't flip. Been a long time since I was in a spot this hot.

As he waited for the decker to complete her work and/or the shaman to return, Scrapheap watched both for signs of injury or strain. From experience he knew that if either ran into trouble it was possible that they would display physical signs of the trauma. He only hoped he could help if that happened.

C'mon you fraggers! C'mon...

[WinterRat1]

01:17:20 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Administrator’s Office

“Um, hold on, let me see…” Tyler’s voice trails off before snapping back, “Yeah, it says on one of these screens ETA 4 minutes 50 seconds, about 01:21:00. What should I do boss?”

Drawing upon his old school knowledge, Scrapheap knows that it’s unlikely he’d be able to cancel the call, although he could always try the old ‘weapons malfunction, give us a few minutes to lock it down’ trick. He doubted that would work here though.
He wasn’t sure where they’d be coming from, could be one of several locations, and in any event, he wasn’t sure how much that would help right now.

If they left now, they’d almost certainly have enough lead time to make it out, but would Iris have the information they needed? And if she did have enough time to get the info, would they make it out of here in time?

Meanwhile, in astral space, Professor is searching through the clinic one more time, when he sees Tyler’s aura is now radiating nervousness, tension, and fear, far beyond what it was when they’d arrived. Quickly heading back to the Administrator’s Office, he sees that Scrapheap’s anxiety level has increased significantly as well.

Something’s gone wrong, but what? Should I go back to my body and find out, or stay out here in the astral?

[Shadow]

03:18:44 Tuesday 09 January 2063 - Westminster Apt Complex, South Seattle


"Da, Cross. 0800 tomorrow for the details, I look forward to it. Dosvedanya."

Ivan disconnected the call and left the phone on the counter. Work again, he needed the money and Cross had been good to him in the past. But with a new job there were new dangers. What would it be this time?

Well, if god is watchink over Ivan, then all will be well.

Ivan made the cross on his chest, an homage to his Russian Orthodox heritage. He pushed the negative thoughts out of his head and went about fixing his dinner, he hadn't worked out since the snow started so he had put himself on a low carb, high protein, low fat diet. Lots of soy.

[Scrapheap]

01:17:25 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Administrator’s Office

"Call our ride, kid, and have 'em meet us out front. Then wait by the front doors. We ain't down in 2 minutes you get out."

Scrapheap slung his Ingram and ran over to the desk, pulling out his electronics toolkit on the way. With a quick glance at Iris to make sure she was OK, he squatted down next to the isolated system's case, quickly examining it to see how difficult it would be to disconnect. If it was secure enough to trigger the alarms so quickly, it was possible that it would be trapped in some fashion.

I guess it don't really matter. Not like I have time to be fraggin' subtle. If it has to go, I'm just rippin' the fragger free. See what Finn can do with what's left.

Replacing the unused toolkit, the old runner could feel cold sweat begin to slide down his back. He reached up, his hand surprisingly steady, and grasped the coiled cable running to Iris's datajack.

A'ight, girl. One more minute and I'm dumping you...

[Slipshade]

01:17:29 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Administrator’s Office

Something was obviously wrong. Professor briefly thought about taking another circuit around the complex to look for any signs of trouble, but thought better of it. He needed to know what was going on and the only way to get the answer was to return to his body.

He gently slipped back into his prone body and the physical world slowly came into view again. It didn’t take being a seasoned runner to know they had problems. Panic sprain to life in Professor as he registered the alarm. He started to full consciousness and looked around quickly for any signs of danger. Iris was still slumped in her seat, fingers dancing across her keyboard and he could just make out the figure of Scrapheap bent down examining the floor. Knowing a full on panic would be the worst possible thing to do at the moment, Professor tried as best he could to remain calm.

“The coast is clear outside…what happened in here and more importantly what do you need me to do?” He asks when Scrapheap pulls himself up from what ever he was examining behind the desk. The old runner could tell that he was nervous, but was at least for the moment holding it together.

[Scrapheap]

01:17:35 Tuesday 09 January 2063- Practical Applications Clinic – Administrator’s Office

Relief washed over Scrapheap as he heard the shaman stir and speak. Trying to reassure the other man by keeping his voice as calm as possible, he looked over his shoulder to reply.

"Nice ta have you back, Professor. I don't know why, but the alarms started about a minute after our girl went in. A fraggin' Knight Errant team's on the way, so we don't got much time. If she ain't done in about 45 seconds, I'm dumpin' her. If it comes to that you have to carry her and her gear. Think you can handle it?"