Markus Only

Markus checks the listing for the conference rooms, calling the lift he enters the next one to arrive and heads down to the relevant floor.

For All "


Markus Only



Caitlin and Nadia Only



George Only

8:15 am, Seattle Hilton, 15th Floor.

George Only

8:16 am, Seattle Hilton, 15th Floor.

8:15 am, Seattle Hilton, 15th Floor

George Only

"Let's get down to the conference room," Nadia says to Caitlin.

8:20 am, Seattle Hilton, 15th Floor

Nadia, Caitlin, Markus Only

8:20 am, Seattle Hilton, 15th Floor

Caitlin makes inconsequential small talk with the others as she scans the lobby, then the conference room, with both her normal and her astral sight. On the physical plane, she is observing security, room dimensions, and fields of fire - also making a mental note of the crowds, and how they might change their enemy's approach. On the astral side, she is looking at how strong the wards are, how they are placed, and what additional magical security seems to be present (watcher spirits, patrol mages - which she has already seen, and so on). She reminds herself that the watcher spirit she saw earlier means that the bad guys are able to get into the hotel - the exterior wards would have kept the pesky thing out, otherwise.

She is also observing her companions, seeing how they handle the surveillance. She will be interested in what they have to say later, when they all compare notes.

Caitlin Only

Markus walks to the door of the Executive Conference Room, turning the handle he tries to open the door.

Nadia follows Markus closely, her hand caressing the handle of the pistol in her bag.

The door opens easily. Inside is a large well appointed conference room, featuring a long faux oak table. large, synth-leather chairs are along the table. A quick scan of the room makes it clear that there is no other entrance or exit.

Entering behind the others, Caitlin thoughtfully observes the site of the meeting as she internally analyzes the data that she has been observing. Finally, she nods.

"All right. We've gotten a good look at their security. Shall we head up now, so we can get with George and go over all of this?"

"Maybe one of us should stay here," Nadia suggests. "Just because we checked it now doesn't mean someone can't tamper with it."

She pauses for a moment, as she looks around the room. "I don't know anything about this kinda stuff, but should we check the air vents or anything else that connects to this room? What if they try to gas the meeting or something?"

There is indeed one central airvent, situated in the center of the room, directly above the conference table. its' covered by a grate, tastefully painted to blend in with the rest of the ceiling. It could probably be reached by climbing up onto the table.

Caitlin cranes her head to look up at the vent. "It does seem to offer intruders a possible, if unlikely, means of entrance. A small drone, maybe, if it could function through the frequency jamming common at these kind of meetings. I suspect that any attempts to eliminate our client will be less... indescriminate... than gas or explosives, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared for any contingencies." She also examines the grate astrally, hoping that they won't have neglected to put a ward here, as well.

She turns to Markus. "Markus, you seem to have some security experience. What do you think about those possibilities? I have finished analyzing their magical security, so Nadia and I can go report to George if you think you need to stay and keep an eye on the room."

"...and George might not like Markus staying here unsupervised, either," she thinks to herself. "But I see no reason not to trust him - his people want this deal to go through, too. After all, before the meet, I didn't know George or Nadia."

Markus looks around the room, taking note of any possible entrances. He looks up from where he was standing at Caitlin's comment, "Yes there is a possibility that it could be used by someone wishing to get into the room, if one of you has some microdrones it would definitely be worth having one there, perhaps even as soon as possible incase someone plans on leaving some presents before the party."

"You might want to check the grid out, you're lighter than me I might break the table if I stand on it, be careful though, check it out carefully before you try move it incase something is already there."

Markus returns to searching the room, keeping an eye on Caitlyn incase she needs help.

"How about a watcher spirit to guard the vent?" Nadia says to Caitlin.

Caitlin gives a slight headshake. "Spells only, remember?"

She peers up at the grate again. "And that grate is bolted on. I'm not going to mess with it and set off an alarm. We'll just have to remember to keep an eye on it, as well as the door."

Her lips quirk in a slight grin. "No micro-drones, I'm afraid. We're a fairly small and basic security contingent."

15th Floor of the Seattle Hilton, Seattle, UCAS , 11:50 am 2065

The recon portion of the party has returned to the hotel room, were they brief their ork colleague of the situation in the conference room. Meanwhile their employer, Phil Hobbes, has dressed, (into black tuxedo pants, and a t-shirt featuring a holographic nuyen symbol beneath the famous 20th century philosopher's comment, "Bitch better have my money.") He slings his deck case over his shoulder, and seems prepared to head down to the conference room.

"You guys ready?"

His bodyguards are indeed ready, and the group moves out into the hallway. everyone is on guard, as they proceed to the elevator well. George pushes the button, and after what seems like forever, the doors glide open without a sound.

When Nadia, Caitlin and Markus came back up in the room, George was already waiting for them. He didn't look particularly tensed up... yet, he didn't look relaxed either. Once the door was closed, the ork spoke up.

"The hit has gone up. The bounty on Hobbes is now through the roof and public knowledge on the net... and the adress for the hotel is attached to it. The whole thing is compromised. Only good thing is there's an expiration date on the hit. After 1300 today, the deal's off."

Shifting his Cobra on his other shoulder, George continued.

"All we have to do is hold our grounds and stay sharp."

As he exited the room to get back to Hobbes' side, the ork threw a last remark.

"If you're tired... now's the time to sleep."

15th Floor of the Seattle Hilton, Seattle, UCAS , 11:50 am 2065

Once morning swung around, George was still up. The dose of long haul he had taken still coursed thru his veins... and probably still would once the job was done. Judith would be pissed off.

The team now gathered, the ork decided to speak his piece.

"Caitlin; you're our ears and eyes in the astral. I want you to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. If we have to deal with elementals or spirits, they should be your primary mark. Of all of us, you're the best one to deal with those. Nadia; you're Hobbes' shadow. If lead starts flying, you get him some cover. You get him out the way ok? I'm rather sure he'll piss himself if thing get thick... so I'm counting on you to keep him safe. Unless we can't, I want you two to sit on the deal along with Hobbes, in the room. I'll stand guard at the door."

He turned to Markus, whom he had ignored all along.

"You... do what ever you want. As far as I'm concerned, your objective isn't the same as ours."

He gave on look around the group.

"If the drek hits the fan, just keep your cool. We are more than capable of dealing with anything. Just suppress what ever comes, move to cover and take out your targets. And watch your backgrounds... we don't want to cap anyone we don't have to."

The open elevator doors reveal that no one is inside, which comes as something of a relief. The door slides shut without a sound, as they press the button for the conference floor. Mindless elevator pop music plays softly as the bodyguards and their charge await their descent. The elevator begins to glide down, marking off the 14th floor, and the 13th floor.

Then, halfway between the 13th, and 12th, the elevator comes to a stop, and the music stops.

In a split second, George reacted. His big ork hand went for Hobbes collar, as he grabbed him and pushed him to the ground, in the corner of the elevator. He then stood over and in front of him, literally shielding him with his body.

His left hand pressing down on his client to make sure he wouldn't get up, George right was already holding the Colt Cobra. Safety off, full auto mode, scanning the ceiling. If anyone was up there and made the slightest noise.... he'd get it. After switching his shades to low light, he motioned for whom ever to try to get the doors opened.

If this was a trap, they had to get out of it.

Nadia gets close to Hobbes, trying to cover him with her body as much as possible and pulls the big Colt out of her bag. She holds it ready and waits for either something to shoot or for George to make a move.

approximately 6 seconds after the initial stoppage, the light flicker, go out momentarily, and than turn back on. The elevator begins going down again. It continues down, past the conference floor, and droping several more floors as well. The team can feel the sudden slowing of the elevator.

"BING"

The doors are about to open.

As it passed the conference's floor, George immediately knew something was wrong. Shouldering the SMG, he looked at the floors counting down. His wired reflexes kicking into gear, time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

When the elevator touched down, it seemed like the doors would never open.

"Game time. Look sharp."

BING

Markus draws his SMG, kneeling down at the back in the corner.

George takes position opposite to Markus' side, making sure their fields of fire would cross to cover all the front angles. His deep brown eyes went to the side, catching Markus'. His cheek pressed on his weapon, he spoke in his usual low and gruff voice.

"If I go down, keep them moving. This is a death trap."

Caitlin stands near the back wall of the elevator, slightly behind Markus. She doesn't need to worry about lines of fire - all she needs is line of sight. She opens her mental eyes to the astral plane, even as she allocates some of her precious store of magical energy to the task of protecting the group from any magical attacks.

She grudgingly credits the opposition for thinking outside the box, and settting things up to allow them to take out them and their client without causing a lobby bloodbath. Now all that she and the others can do is try to turn the ambush around on them. Her professional detatchment seems to be working, dampening down the sick rush of fear and adrenaline, keeping her focused. A slight twitch of a feral smile is the only expression on her otherwise impassive face.

It ended almost as soon as it began. And what started as an ambush ended up a slaughter.

For the Ambushers.

Markus was blazing away almost as soon as the doors opened, killing one and wounding another with well placed bursts. The wounded ganger would have no time to proclaim his good luck, as he was rapidly put down by George. The stoat and heavily armored ork than stepped up and put another one of the would be assassins to death. Seeing a good plan go awry, the last ganger went with the tried and true tactic of the streets... Spray and Pray.

When the metaphorical dust settled, the team picked itself up off the ground, except for George who had never hit the deck to begin with.

Than the ganger went down with a gurgle, blood trickling from his nose and ears, apparently Caitlin's work. Nadia peeked out from behind George armored self.. which had shielded both her and their employeer Hobbes from the mix.

His weapon still trained on the four now downed gangers, George stayed in position for a few seconds, making sure none of the men were moving.

"Markus" he said in his usual booming voice, his eyes fixed on the sights of his gun "check for survivors. I'll cover you".

After Caitlin helps Nadia and Hobbes up, her cold gaze sweeps over the fallen gangers as she steps out of the elevator.

"The one that I tagged should still be alive, albeit much the worse for wear. I think we should take the stairs back up to the conference room - but let's stay alert. This might have only been the first wave."

Markus checks, to find that two of the ganger' are still alive, the one who Caitlin cast against, and one of the two that he himself shot.
Both were unconcious and likely to remain that way for the foreseeable future.

Markus quickly searches the gangers for any form of identification, not expecting to find much.

"Lets move, security will most likely be along very soon, someone would have heard the noise. We don't want to be caught around here. Head for the stairwell."

Markus picks up one of the guns, poping the clip out and clearing the chamber. Once everyone is out of the elevator he jams the gun between the lift doors to stop them from closing.

no identification is found. Markus does find additional magazines for the submachine guns, one of the thugs, something that looks like a children's toy with a birds feather a string and a round hoop, and on another, a cellphone.

Markus grabs the phone and the toy from the corpse, slipping them into his pockets. Tossing one of the spare magazines to George he takes the another for himself.

Without even looking, George's big hand went out and caught the clip mid air.

"I agree. Let's get out of here now."

Snapping the Cobra's safety back on, he slid it under his coat and snapped it back into the quick release rig. As he spoke, one of his big gloved ork fingers started to big around his lower chest.

"We keep the same moving position. Let's get Hobbes to this meeting."

After a few seconds, George threw away a flattened 9mm bullet on the floor as if it was a mere nothing. It seemed as if the fight hadn't even fazed the ork.

As soon as the party frees itself from the elevator, and the pile of bodies, it becomes immediately apparent why the gangers chose this floor. It is clearly under construction. white, plastic sheets cover much of the floors. Parts of walls are exposed, where the team can see into empty rooms, the floor is hard concrete instead of the classy carpeting used on the other floors.

The one good thing, is that there appears to be a clear line of sight to the end of the hallway, where there is a clear door. It is swinging halfway open.

Still there is no trouble as the team progresses up the stairs, to the appropriate floor.

Caitlin lets George take the point, keeping back with the others, close to the client. Her astral eyes are open, scanning for any magical threats. She is muttering a few derogatory things about the hotel's version of "security", but still seems focused.

"That was no problem eh, boss," Nadia says to Hobbes as they head through the hallway and up the stairs.

"We'll have you to that meeting and done with all this in no time."

Hobbes stares off into space blankly. That was the closest he'd ever been to combat, and he clearly didn't appreciate it much.

"uh..." He mutters briefly, before shaking himself off.

"Let's get this thing over and done with." He says, seeming to have repossessed himself enough to smile as his escort.

When the team comes to the top of the stairs, on the same floor as the conference room, they are presented with a door, it is not locked, and opens up behind a fake tree in rear of the conference floor lobby. The lobby remains filled with a variety of different people, perhaps as many as thirty in all, milling around speaking which each other between seminars. The double doors to the conference room where Hobbes' meeting will take place is perhaps but 50 meters away.

Caitlin stands just slightly closer to Hobbes, as she scans the crowd for any blatantly hostile intentions. She knows her astral scanning is far from foolproof, especially against a calm professional, but it's all she has at the moment. Besides, a calm professional would be less likely to be desperate enough to go for a publicly-posted bounty. She is not ignoring the more harmless-seeming people, though. They could also be a potential danger if they start panicking. Her commlink is active, ready to transmit as soon as she detects any danger.

Caitlin Only

Standing in the lobby, his longcoat flapped over his weapons to hide them, George cursed under his breath.

This is fragged. There's too many people.

The ork double checked his watch. The deadline for the hit still hadn't passed. As long as that hour was gone by, the game of cat and mouse was still on.

"Stay sharp. This could get ugly. Don't let anyone get too close to Hobbes. Wait for my signal"

George started to cross the room, walking a slow pace towards the door, all his senses in alert. If something went down, this could turn really ugly, really fast.

Once by the conference door, he turned around, watching the crowd for a few mores seconds. Finally satisfied that nothing was standing out, he activated his transceiver.

"Ok. Move."

Markus carefully pushed the door open without stepping into the room. A quick check to make sure the room is clear before entering.

Nadia took Hobbes' arm with her free hand and began walking with him across the crowded room. She tried to walk casually, but was also ready to cover him at the least sign of trouble. She also kept her pistol hand concealed in her bag ready to pull it out and fire if needed.

With a sigh of relief from everyone involved, the group cruises practically unnoticed across the lobby floor, making it inside the conference room. Inside there are three people already seated around the long conference table. Two of them have an appearance which screams lawyer: One a thin brown haired, weasel of a man, who is sitting with his back to the door wearing a suit which easily cost more than this run had earned the team. The other, on far end of the table, is a rotund older gentleman wearing a suit which probably cost more than ten such runs. He is sitting on the right hand of another, younger man, who is dressed more conservatively in a traditional corporate cut suit. That man smiles and stands as the group enters. Behind those two, are two thick, corp-sec types, in longcoats, and with the obvious bulges of weapons and thick ballistic armor.

"Mr. Hobbes, I was beginning to fear that you wouldn't make it. I'm Francis Hollenbeck, I'll be negotiating on behalf of Microdeck today. This is our attorney Mr. Feathers."

If Hollenbeck saw irony in the name, it wasn't readily apparent.

Hobbes stepped forward through his escort, and brushed himself off elaborately.

"I appear to be somewhat underdressed." Hobbes said, " Mr. Fabian I presume," he says to the lawyer type at this side of the table. The man simply nodded at the seat beside him, and Hobbes sits down.

"If you wouldn't mind having some of your security wait outside? Two of mine, and two of yours is fair." Hollenbeck says, a statement in the form of the question.

Hobbes glances back at the team, letting them decide who stays, and who waits in the lobby.