1930, September 17th, somewhere between "The Seattle Hilton" and Pullyup, Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

"aight chum, I'll keep my ear to the street, but it'll cost ya... and let me know about these transcievers quick, I don't wanna lose the guy." Miron thinks, at least you presume he's thinking, he's awful quiet, before he says,

"Hobbes? Phiber Electronics? I'll see what I can find out.. And what do you want the decker for? Different things have different costs, and no two deckers are the same ya know."

After hanging up, it wasn't long before George was home... Unfortunately Judith was also home. She glared with a raised eyebrow as the ork slide through the door.

"You done working?" She asks, hands on hips. Its difficult to tell if she means are you done "this" job, or done 'running, more permenantly.

1930, September 17th, somewhere between "The Seattle Hilton" and Pullyup, Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

To Miron:
"Mostly need someone who could handle some easy datasearch. I don't really need someone right now... but I'd like to have a name on stand by in case the need arises."

As he went up the small crooked stairs that led to his apartment, George could already hear the filtered noise from the trideo coming out from under the door... Judith was definitely home. It was passed seven o'clock; of course she was home. Actually, if she hadn't been, George would have been worried. A few months ago, the ork wouldn' have been so worried about his wife, but since she had fallen pregnant, his protective instinct had quadruple. He had even gone around Judith's back to her father, and convinced him of lessening her work load at the family restaurant.

As soon as he slipped the magkey in the lock and crossed the door, Judith was already in the kitchen's doorway, glaring at him with a raised eyebrow. In a strange manner, her chinese look made her look even more angry than she probably was. Hands on her hips, she spoke in a quick and sharp tone.

"You done working?"

Taking his coat off, George decided to ignore the question. As she sighed heavily, putting some hair behind her left pointed elf ear. It was a nervous ticks of hers; every time she felt aggravated, she'd fix her long black hair.

"I asked you a question George? Are you done for the day?" she asked in a frustrated tone, getting closer to her husband.

As he turned around to give her a kiss, she turned her head on the side. Not matter, the ork kissed her cheek.

"Come on baby, don't start..."

"Well, are you or not?"

"No. I'll be busy for the next 3 or 4 days... I probably won't come home until then..."

"Oh really..." Judith was disappointed... but she tried to hide it behind a frown.

As George went toward a large metal footlocker in the living room, he could feel the tension already starting to build in the air.

"Well.... it's nothing too dangerous I hope."

I could never come home

"Miron was right; it's a real cake walk. Some nobody simply wants to show off. It's really nothing dangerous."

Methodically, George started gearing up. Judith immediately turned away, shying off in the kitchen. She hated guns... and could never stand watching her husband prepare for a job.

"Listen babe, I'd like you to go at your parents for the next few days."

"I'm fine by myself George." she said from the next room.

"Well, I'd feel better to know there's someone with you."

She poked her head in the living room. The frown was gone for her face and she was now happily smiling... or at least was trying to.

"Are you at least going to stay for supper?"

Shutting the locker, the ork got up and incircled his wife with his large arms.

"I'm sorry honey... I really have to run." he smiled back at her.

"Even if I make that pork just the way you like it" she replied with a sheepish look on her face.

After a brief chuckle, the both kissed pationatly, knowing they wouldn't see each other for a few days.

A few minutes later, George was left he house. Walking back to his bike, the ork smirked to himself, trying to imagine Judith's face when she'd notice the 1 grand credstick sitting on the kitchen counter.

As he hopped back on his bike, he dialed Caitlin's number to inform the two women about the deal he had just gotten from Miron.

1930, September 17th, "The Seattle Hilton", Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

Caitlin quickly mulls her options when George calls. The comm gear is a bit pricey, considering the pay for the job, but she should still clear enough scratch to keep the wolf from the door - the one upside to her squalid living conditions is that they are low maintenance. And it was something she was going to get soon, anyways. And not getting it could cost her some of her fledgeling rep... with a slight internal wince, she agrees to the purchase that has been arranged for her.

"Yes, that sounds like a fair deal for a basic micro-transceiver. Now let me ask our colleague."

Caitlin turns to Nadia.

"George has scrounged up some basic comm gear from someone he knows. It's a cool grand, but that's still not bad for pro-level stuff, even if it's pretty basic. I've decided to get some; how about you?"

As you talk, Hobbes is mumbling about how unlikely it was that a jumped up piece of pullayup barrens trash could take him in a net fight.

his nose has started bleeding again because he doesn't leave it alone.

"I'll take it," Nadia says. It was expensive, but she'd be able to clear it after getting paid for protecting Hobbes. Besides, it was a good piece of equipment to have around.

As George was making his way back unto the highway, he slowed the bike a bit down to pay closer attention to Caitlin's voice coming in his ear.

"Good. I'll go pick them up on my way in."

His next call was to Miron, informing him that the deal was on and that he would come pick up the gear as soon as it was ready.

After getting off the phone with George, Caitlin walks over to Hobbes to clean him up again, with an internal sigh, resisting the impulse to scold him.

George Only




Caitlin and Nadia Only

"Whoa, boss!" Nadia says. "I don't think we want even the room service people spending more time up here than necessary. Why don't you tell me what you want and I'll go get it for you."

"aight aight," Hobbes throws his hands up in mock defeat... "There was a sports bar in the lobby right.. Hook me up with a soy-burger, some fries and a soy-choco-shake." He offers out his hand for your certified credstick, and transfers a small amount for you. "Feel free to grab something for yourself and for your partners." Their boss seems pleased with his own generosity.

Proud of herself for getting a hang of the whole bodyguading thing. Nadia heads downstairs after taking Caitlin's food order.

After getting Caitlin's food order, Nadia makes her way down the elevator.

"Yeah, he's doing fine," Nadia says, trying her best to play it cool.

Then, using her voice control power to imitate the suit's voice, she cries out, "THE T-BIRD'S CAN SUCK MY FRAGGING COCK!"

After yelling, she makes for the sports bar's entrance.

GM

1950, September 17th, 5th Avenue & Madison Street, Behind Dante's Inferno , Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

A good 20 minutes after talking to Miron, George arrived at the Inferno. Having been a boucer for some time in his life, being around such a places brought back both good and bad memories. Truth be told, George wasn't a big fan of that kind of places.... large crowds, lost of noise, everyone packed in a tiny box... it all made him uncomfortable.

As he pulled up behind the establishement, in the large parking, finding Miron wasn't too much of an issue.

Cutting the engine on his bike, George hailed the fixer.

"Hoi chummer. Hope I didn't make you wait too long"

Miron is sitting on top of a black Westwind, his legs crossed at the ankles. Miron is wearing a ankle length leather trenchcoat, open to feature subtly armored clothing. the side of his head features two data jacks, and a chipjack. One might wonder if Miron didn't emerge fully grown from the sprawl like Athena from Zeus' head... already wheeling and dealing. as the Ork gets closer, the fixer tosses a package to him.. Catching it adroitly, George sees it contains two micro-transcievers, with small mics meant to be taped to a cuff or shirt collar and a small optical chip.

"There you go. Four-thousand is the price, plus another eight hundred for the low-down I managed to pull up on Hobbes. The most notable info i gave you over the cell, but the file i included has some background info.. place of birth, police record, school enrollment, some W-2s. It was short notice, but the guy is a total civilian so it was not really a problem. Hence the price being on the lower end of the spectrum.. I take it we're cool?" Miron says, his fingers making that most international of signs...

1955, September 17th, 5th Avenue & Madison Street, Behind Dante's Inferno , Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

George, not even double checking the package, slid it under his arm. Miron was, even for a fixer, a good guy. If he said the package was good, it was.

"Thanks a lot chummer, saved me a lot of trouble on this one."

After speaking with Caitlin and Nadia, George had already taken care of arranging the payment to be made. The 4 000 nuyens would be transfered via the matrix to numerous anonymous acounts before being rerouted to one of Miron's. Quickly dialing a local RTG number on his phone, George gave the electronic go ahead for the transfer. He made sure to add the 850 from his own pocket.

"Well, I'm sure you've got tons of people to see tonite."

The large ork turned around and started walking back to his bike.

"You take care of yourself chummer." he said as he turned the ignition key on.

The biker was then on his way back to the hotel.

1955, September 17th, 5th Avenue & Madison Street, Behind Dante's Inferno , Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

George Only



Caitlin Only

Caitlin nods coolly. "The change in security plans, we can adjust to easily enough. Understand, however, that we still expect to be paid the full amount that we negotiated earlier, whether you require our presense for the full three days or not. I have a distaste for re-opening negotiations during the middle of the job. I don't try to extort extra money from employers when unexpected complications arise, and I expect the same courtesy from them. I'm sure my colleagues would concur."

Her expression softens back into her usual introspective look. "Now, as for the conference room, have no fear, we will go over it thoroughly. I'll wait until George gets back, though. Someone should stay with you at all times until the meeting. I also want to ask him how this might change our plans to keep you moving. If the meet is tomorrow, we might be sticking closer to the hotel."

Nadia's scream appears to suprise the "Suit". Nadia is equally suprised as the first round from the pistol hits her right over the breast plate, thumping solidly against the form fitting body armor. The second round whizzes harmlessly by, as Nadia takes the momentum of the first round, and uses it to her advantage, spinning to her feet and towards the door.
No one seems to notice the shots, the sounds of screaming fans and clinking glasses covers it. But they definetely notice that the "Suit" isn't a home-town fan, thanks to Nadia's subterfuge, and three burly brawlers from the wrong side of the tracks apparently decide to make an issue of it, especially since he's picking on a "helpless" woman. They're coming towards the japanese man quick, but they aren't as quick as the Suit, who, Nadia knows instinctively, is a born and bred killer. So she doesn't look back to see the results, but catches enough out of the corner of her eye to see the brawlers go down to the sounds of snapping bones and broken cartiledge in an orchestra of pain and human suffering.

"GUN!" Nadia screams, adding to the havoc, Two doormen, security types, break into a run, headed towards the bar, as Nadia takes the opportunity to get unnoticed quick.

Hobbes nods at Caitlin.

"No worries about your pay. I've been more than satisfied with the work you've done. I'll pay for the full three days regardless of when the meet finishes. This must be easy money for you guys..." He says with a shrug.. apparently attempting to make what passes as conversation between the Principal and his bodyguard.

Nadia calls Caitlin on her wrist phone.

"Some fragger in the bar asked me about Hobbes and then tried to kil me!" she cries after the other woman answers the phone.

Caitlin picks up the phone, and frowns slightly. "Apparently not successfully... so what happened to the assassin? Is he still running around loose, or did you take care of him? Ah, I see. Well, at least you delayed him a bit, maybe more depending on the hotel security. But you had better get back up here... I need to stay with the client, so I can't come down. Are you injured? Good. You can give me a more thorough briefing when you get back up. I think we'd better stick together now - that may have been the first thrust, but it might come to a head pretty soon."

She smiles ironically at Hobbes as she hangs up. "Looks like the 'easy money' part is over. Hmph. I'll bet she forgot the food, too. At least there's some stuff here." She idly spreads salmon salad over a wheat roll as she waits for George and Nadia to come back. Occasionally, she checks the astral plane to see if things are still clear on that front.

As quickly and quietly as possible Nadia makes her way to the elevator and heads for the penthouse. On the way up she calls George and tells him the story, asking him to get his hoop back as soon as possible.

20:00, September 17th, 6th and University Street Blocks from the Seattle Hilton, Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

George only



Caitlin and Nadia Only

Take what you need and get back in the bedroom, boss," Nadia says.

"Look at this!" she says as she pokes a finger through the hole the bullet made in her outerwear. "I just got shot at. They might be coming, you should get back in the bedroom and pile some stuff infront of the door."

20:01, September 17th, 6th and University Street Blocks from the Seattle Hilton, Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

Driving amongst the now brightly lit Dowtown Seattle, spotting the Rapier wasn't all that difficult. It was mainly the two security guards that caught his eye at first.

Looks like the same bike.

For a split second, the ork considered gunning his engine and roaring after the biker. But he was always way ahead of him... and it could very well be a totaly separate incident. If this was indeed the same one that had followed them earlier... it meant that the opposition already knew that Hobbes was staying there.

Slowly, as if he hadn't even noticed the commotion, he drove up to the Hotel entrance. Taking his helmet off, George tossed his keys at the nearest valet.

"Take good care of it." he said in the same neutral and detached tone of voice.

As the man was stepping thru the revolving door and into the lobby, his heavy duffle bag over his shoulder, he could feel his phone vibrating in his breast pocket. The caller ID was blinking Nadia's number in bright green.

"Pliskin." he answered.

So... it was the same biker. Interesting.

"Start packing. I'll call you back."

Without even waiting for an answer, George hung up. This safehouse was blown. Who ever was after Hobbes knew his location. The fact that George's own team had been able to get in with weapons had shown that, even with the high tech, security was rather lax. Shifting the weight of the large duffle bag, the ork suddently felt like his coat was getting heavier... he was getting anxious. Nervous.

George carried his heavy frame all the way to the reception desk. Hunching forward, as to get on the same level with the employee standing behind it, he tried to take his most friendly face... but avoided smiling too large. Tusk... they made people nervous.

"Do you have any rooms available? I'd like something on the 16th floor if possible"

The man at the front desk would be looking down his nose at George, if he was tall enough, which he isn't. But still he managed to carry the same demeanor regardless.

"Eh... I will have to check sir."


The man taps away for a moment at a terminal.

"Yes, we do have a room available. It's a queen bed, I hope that will be sufficient... Your name and SIN Sir?"

After Hobbes is more or less shoved into the bedroom Nadia turns to Caitlin. "George wants us to be ready to get out of here when he gets back. Maybe you should be watching the astral or whatever it is you magicians do."

As he spoke to man, George's eyes started pacing around the lobby, as if he was bored.

"I already have a room here. I am an employee of Mister Bonaparte, who's staying in the suite, on the 16th floor."

The ork let out a heavy sigh, trying to convey his boredom.

"My employer is a very... peculiar man. He chose to stay here because, apparently, your hotel garanties the privacy of their clients. Since he is about to conclude some very important business deal, he does not want to be bothered... but somehow, he has been contacted, in his room, by a few unwanted parties."

He leaned in a bit foward.

"This, has made him quite furious. Mister Bonaparte hates being disturbed."

The ork straightened up again.

"So, he wants you to rectify the situation. He wants to move to another room... but does not want to leave any trail of his moving. This would make Mister Bonaparte very happy... and when he is happy, he likes to share his wealth with those who made him happy."

With a smirk, he added.

"Can you make him happy?"

The front desk man frowns intensely.

"I am sorry to hear that Mr.Bonaparte was displeased with his room. I'm afraid we really have nothing of a similar quality available to the room he has now... We could perhaps link several rooms together. 1607, and 1608 are available. Their only standard Business Traveler's rooms I'm afraid, really quite nothing like the suite you have at present. "Shall I put in for the room change?"

"That would be quite apperciated."

He leaned in a bit closer, whispering.

"Would it be possible for you to book us under a new name? As I said, Mister Bonaparte really likes his privacy..."

"Under what name and SIN shall i book it sir?" Apparently the desk clerk is missing the hints. The man raises his eyebrow at George, and than turns and gives a significant look to the concierge. Behind George a Lone star cop has entered, and appears to be taking a report from a number of mostly intoxicated bar partrons.

Talk about been thick...

Once again the ork let out a heavy sigh. It was obvious the man wasn't getting it... at all. George was afraid that, because of his apperance and size, the front desk man wasn't quite taking him seriously enough. With the Star now on the scene, his trigger finger was starting to itch.

"... This seem to be getting a lot more complicated than it should. I will go back to inform my employer that other rooms are availible. Someone will call you in a few minutes. Thank you for your time sir."

Without giving him the time to reply, George calmly walked to the elevator. He had to move the team; fast... and now.

Finally arriving to the suite, he entered without a single word to anyone. His duffle bag in one hand, he thru a small container to Caitlin with the other. He gestured toward his own ear and collar: he was wearing a micro-transceiver.

"Main frequency will be 187.5. Backup is 135.6."

He continued talking as he settled his bag on the floor.

"This location is compromised. I noticed the biker that followed us earlier, leaving the hotel. I take it he's the one who attacked you" he gave a quick look to Nadia "but you seem fine. We need to move; now and without anyone knowing. Rooms 1607 and 1608 are free, but the desk clerk doesn't seem to be enthralled by my smile."

Caitlin raises an elegant eyebrow at Nadia.

"I've been checking the astral plane - so far, the threats seem to be more on the mundane side, although I am sure it is only a matter of time before something magical hits us."

Her tone is as well-modulated as ever, but there might be just the slightest hint of reproof in her voice - she's followed George's lead with regards to physical security so far, but doesn't seem to appreciate any intrusion into her area of specialty.


As George brusquely hands her the micro-transceiver, she almost absently puts it on and sets the frequencies. Although she only had a cell phone, it appears that she has used these communication devices before. She starts slightly at the mention of the biker.

"Damn. That means they'll know they're dealing with magic this time. And changing rooms won't throw them off too long. I've dealt with officious twits like this desk clerk of yours seems to be... I can comm him and straighten him out, but Hobbes will probably still need to stand by, since he'll be the one actually making the transaction."

She awaits his reply before heading over to the room's telecom - he might not want to compromise their communications any further.

2013, September 17th "The Seattle Hilton", 16th floor, Downtown, Seattle Metroplex, UCAS

As Caitlin spoke, George had started unbuttoning his Mortimer Greatcoat. He had apparently she his corporate-style grey business suit for something more "comfortable". The ork was wearing a secure ballistic jacket, on top of a black t-shirt. Dark jeans completed his attire... and he still had his mirror shades on. It was obvious that either he did have cyber eyes... or the shades weren't what they seemed.

The ork was also clearly geared up for some serious action. He was wearing a large pistol on his right hip, and had a compact SMG tucked under his left arm in a quick detach sling. Enough clips to lay down some serious covering if need arised... and even a few grenades strapped to his belt.

In a swift motion, he pulled hard on the submachingun's sling. With a metallic *click*, it swung off its attach point. George then extended the stock, making sure it found a comfortable spot in his shoulder.

Some might have thought that George was over-reacting... but if one assassin had made its way into the building, there could very well be others. And anyone in the lobby, who had watched Nadia go up now probably knew where they were staying.

"Damn. That means they'll know they're dealing with magic this time. And changing rooms won't throw them off too long." said Caitlin.

"You're quite right. I've already secure another safehouse, not too far from here. If we the heat doesn't come down, we can move there."

The weapons charging handle echoed in the suite, as George loaded a heavy round of Ex-Ex.

"Stay on your toes people: since this location is compromise, we have to assume that we could find ourselves under attack at any moment. We need to relocate: now."

On that note, the large Ork took some cover behind a wall, making sure to keep the only entrance to the suite well in view.

"For communication purposes; use only callsigns. No names on the air. Don't mention weapons, or anything clear. Our communication systems don't have any encryption, which means that if someones finds our frequency, they can listen in." he pointed to himself "One", to Caitlin "Two", to Nadia "Three" and then to Hobbes "Prime".

Pressing his ear piece in a bit, George made a quick check.

"All; One; system check. Report in if online."

Caitlin only



George Caitlin and Nadia

Prime comes back out of the bedroom. He has the cyberdeck strapped over one shoulder, and otherwise has a small hygine kit in his hand. At least Hobbes was capable of traveling light.

Nadia was unfamiliar with the comm gear, but after watching Caitlin she figured out how to strap everything into the correct place.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and pulled out her big Colt Manhunter. She popped out the clip, giving it and the weapon a visual once-over, and then slid it back into the gun with a satisfying click and racked the slide to chamber the first round. Applying the safety, Nadia put the gun back into her bag and kept her hand close to the bag's open top. It was not the best situation, but she had not gotten the chance to return home and get the rest of her gear, now she felt nearly naked.

"Three here, one. Ready to rock."

As George kept a trainned eye on the door, he spoke over this shoulder.

"Mister Hobbes... have you ever been in business with people from Pullayup?"

The way the ork spoke, the simple question seemed like something more than simple small talk... as if he was hinting at something.

"Pullayup.. no. I've never even been to Pullayup... "

Hobbes pause, as if realizing something, than adds "I... Well.. that is where I traced the jackpoint of the little hoop-hat that attacked me. I gave him a headache like you wouldn't believe too. Thinking he can take the great Phiber-Wire in a net'fight? Hardly..."

Hobbes has a drek-eating grin on his face, as he hefts the cyberdeck in a mock victory celebration. Whether he is too naive to understand the danger he faces, or if its just the typical disinterest in the "Real" world, that these net-geeks have can be determined.

The Telecom begins to ring... and Hobbes makes a motion to reach for it.

As the telecom started ringing, George added "Word on the street is that the Reality-Hackers are looking for you".

He then motioned for Nadia to pick up the still ringing phone unit.

Nadia waves her Johnson's hand away from the reciever and picks it up herself.

"Hello," she says. "If this is room service I want to know where my tuna salad is."

"Reality Hackers..." Hobbes says dimly. "Never heard of them. They're some kind of Barrens gang? That would explain the jack point. Guy was decking from a universal service jack, probably a busted up vending machine or something. That didn't do him any favors. "But it doesn't explain what he wanted to tango with me for."

the voice on the other line does not appear amused by Nadia's quip.

"This is Horace Jenkins, Security Consultant for executive protection at Microdeck. We're sending an advance member of our security team to link up with yours. We didn't want any Blue on White when that happened, so we wanted to give you a heads up."



Markus Ambrosie Only

Markus smiled to himself as she appeared knowing all she saw was a still prerecorded image of him.

"Go ahead, I accept."

While Mary provided him with the information regarding the job, Markus began to prepair himself, retrieving his guns from the large safe in his closet he quickly checked them once over having cleaned them out the night before. Sliding the clips into place he placed them on the table, before retrieving his suit from the cupboard.

"Thank you, I'm on my way, he concluded the conversation and hung up".

He straightened his tie one last time and brushed a stray hair from his face. Holstering his weapons beneath his suit he headed out.

On his way down the elevator he rang for a taxi.

Markus only

While the taxi slowly cruised the seattle streets Markus fired off a quick message back to Mary Alison.

Please forward name of the head of security at the Seattle Hilton.

Markus slotted his credstick into the reader as the Taxi pulled to a halt outside the hotel. Markus smoothly stepped out of the vehicle as the valet opened the door. Nodding in thanks he picked up his briefcase and headed towards the main enterance.

"We'll take it under advisement," Nadia says just before she disconnects. Turning to the rest of the team she says, "Let's get the frag out of here."

"Call the front desk. Get us a change of room under another name.... we have to move out, but leave as little traces as possible"

Nadia rings the front desk. When she sees a male answer the telecom, she slips into as sexy a voice as she can manage and attempts to give the vid pick-up the same sort of look she would give patrons who paid for lap dances.

"This is the penthouse. We'll be switching rooms and I was calling to give you a name to register us under. I'll be sure to get something very special to you if you'd just enter Mr. O'Dell and party into your computer."

"Two here, one." Caitlin checks in, then adds "I didn't want to alarm our client, but I did detect astral surveilance on us earlier. We definitely need to expedite getting out of here."

Caitlin doesn't even need to pack, as she hadn't begun to unpack her duffel yet.

She frowns at the mention of the Reality-Hackers, and addresses Hobbes. "That settles it, we definitely can not have you jacking in, not with a matrix gang after you. They may be punks, but four or five punks can still bring most people down."

She has more mixed feeling when Nadia briefs them about the new security expert. He could wind up being either a help or a hindrance. Time will tell.

She can tell Nadia definitely has a different approach to negotiations than she does - Caitlin has a colder, more corporate approach. "Well, whatever works," she thinks.

As she stands near the door with her duffel, waiting for the others, she mentally prepares herself for a potential magical battle, opening her perceptions to the astral plane while placing herself and the others under her Spell Defense.