Caitlin fades out from sight, becoming invisible and then exiting the car to take up her position covering the rear of the vehicle. Her cool soprano voice comes over the rest of the team's transceivers:

"One, all. In position and holding."

Her cold eyes are focused on the back of the truck. Now that the operation has started, her nervous agitation has given way to an almost preternatural calm. It's all in the hands of fate, now.

"Three. Ready to roll."

Markus prepaired the grenade in his hand, priming the grenade but keeping the pin in. As soon as everyone was ready he pushed the door open.

Still leaning against the post, George did his best to only give a passing and bored glaring look toward the van as it approached. All his current thoughts were directed toward blending in the background. Just a big guy waiting too long for the bus.

As the van stopped only a few inches away from Cortex idling car, George realized one thing he hadn't thought of. Their getaway car... it was too close to where the blasting charge would be. If it got banged up too badly, they'd be sitting ducks.

Leaning slightly to the side, George whispered in his hidden throat mike.

"Two. Four. On my Go, move away."

Taking one last deep breath, the big ork hoped Cortex understood his message.

the Ork samurai is moving at a sprint, crouched low, to cover the 4 or so meters to the armored vehicle's front right wheel. He kneels, preps the explosive under the wheel, and turns to make for the relative safety of the bus stand's plastic partial enclosure. At the same time Markus let's go of an overhand lob of the paint grenade, just as the grenade is coming down it explosives, splashing red paint across the front windshield of the armored car.

Hearing George shout over the radio, Cortex puts his foot on the gas, pushing the old americar about 8 meters away A steady ticking sound inside his head tells him the clock is now counting, the accumulated seconds appearing in his vision. The passenger side door nearest to George is thrown open, and the first shot in this ambush rings out with a loud "CRACK"

meanwhile the one of the two back doors on the armored van opens as well, and low "THUMP!", "Thump!" is heard as metal cannisters of... something hits the ground, smoke beginning to bellow from them, wafting into Caitlin's general vicinity. Caitlin can see three masked armored forms in the rear of the van, two kneeling with assault rifles point outwards (smoke rising from what appear to be underbarrel launchers.) A third is standing partially blocked by the other two, both this guard's hands are free, a submachinegun dangling from a sling at their side. Saliva floods Caitlin's mouth as the gas wafts pass her nostrils and she feels like she's going to be sick.

The scanner on the seat beside Cortex squawks, "211-Red, 211-Red, it's a hold up"

Gritting her teeth, and emitting a growl that she is unaware of, Caitlin opens herself wide to her power, sending an awesome surge of magical energy to stun the three guards. It's all or nothing now...

A blinding migraine explodes in her head for a moment, and she staggers slightly as a spasm shakes her, but then it's gone. She is a bit woozy, and a thin trickle of blood trails unnoticed down her face. Considering how recklessly she channeled her magical abilities, she will consider herself lucky - later, if there is a later.

But it never rains but it pours, especially in Seattle. Getting another whiff of the gas, she stumbles out of it, making herself go forward despite her primal instinct to flee. Her vision is blurry, her nose and throat burn, and a wracking cough almost turns into puking. Her wavering eyesight homes in on the van's doorway.

"It took everything I had. Please let it be enough," she thinks desperately.

The two guards with the assault rifles go wide-eyed as the masked Caitlin suddenly appears before them. They try to draw a bead on her, but not before she strikes out at their will with her stun spell. they slump over to the floor of the van. The third, standing guard doesn't appear fazed. Caitlin smells a whiff of ozone through the nausea gas, and hears a light crackling sound, which tells her that her opponent had used magic of his own to survive the spell.

George spins as the rifle slug hits him like a friendly slap on the back. The unarmored coat was probably a loss, but it had served its purpose. George raised the rifle and let loose a burst of his own. All 6 rounds struck the guard center mass, killing him instantly.

Which spared him from the explosion which followed.

With a loud pop, the tire, and front axle underneath the armored truck exploded. The vehicle teeters for a moment, and than comes down, leaning on the now wheeless front right side. This vehicle isn't going anywhere.

Springing into action Markus raises his submachine gun, and standing not but 3 meters away, blazes into the side window of the car. The window is armored class, but the repeated concentrated fire of Markus' weapon is to much for it, and it shatters. Markus can now see into the driver's seat, where a armored human driver is slumped over, leaning up against his equally dead passenger.

As smoke wafts from the barrel of his SMG, Markus, and the other 'runners can look over head where, perhaps 200 meters above, a winged metallic drone is circling. It does not appear to be armed with anything but a camera.

Not wanting to give the opposition any chance to recover, George moves quickly to the rear of the vehicle, popping around the corner to give the last standing guard a 6 round burst to the chest. The Guard tries to duck behind his unconcious partners, but fails, and takes at least 4 of the 6 rounds square in the chest. Dropping to his knees, only partially under his own power, the guard tosses his submachine gun to one side, and slowly raises his hands over his head.

Meanwhile, Cortex has managed a three point turn to get the ford ameri-car facing the opposite direction.

The guard, his hands raised, even as blood begins to seep out of his wounds, turning his uniform scarlet. George quickly boards the van, and roughily restraints the one survivor. At the same time Cortex gets the car turned around, bringing it a stop to the rear left of the van. Only a handful of seconds have passed, but the Lone Star drone flying above is continuing to record the situation, and in the distance sirens are becoming audiable.

Jumping in the back of the van, George took the butt of his assault rifle to the side of the guard’s head. With a clear wince of pain, the man dropped to the floor, slightly stunned by the hit. Not losing a single moment, the big ork let go of his rifle, which swung down toward the floor, held only by it’s sling. Grabbing the man firmly with his two big paws, George slid the guard out of the van, literally throwing him face first into the paved street.

Kicking the guns away from the hands of the unconscious guards, George began to search around the van for what their target.

“Two here. One, keep your eyes on the last guy. Three; take that fragging drone out and come give me a hand. Four, pop the trunk and start laying the road spikes.”

Three here; target out of range. Check rear for posible weapons.

Markus jumps up into the front cab, taking a quick look for weapons, or any other alternative.

Four, I'm on it Two.

Rolling the car to a delicate stop behind the van, Cortex stepped out as he thumbed the trunk release. He balked for a moment at the arsenal George had stuffed inside of the car, but quickly found four spike strips and began to drag them into blocking positions in the surrounding intersection.

Caitlin, still fighting down her feeling of nausea from the gas, distractedly helps grab stuff from the van, as much as she can while giving the guard on the ground most of her attention.

"Stay the hell down," she snarls at him when he feebly moves a bit, "I know all about line of sight. Keep your eyes down, and stay alive." She feels slightly guilty, looking at the pathetic, bleeding figure huddled on the road, but at least he and his two buddies will be alive after this is over.

Which might be more than we can say for ourselves, if we're pursued more closely than I anticipated. But we hit them very quickly. It only seems like it's taking forever to grab the loot.

The van's compartment features 4 metal boxes, stacked neatly side by side, each clearly labeled on the top with an address as to where it's going, but no name regarding its intended owner. The boxes are locked, but they do not stand up to a determined opener, and the George and Caitlin are nothing if not determined at this point, particularly with the sounds of Lone Star's sirens looming ever louder. Inside each box is a series of manilla mailing envelopes without labels, and a number of optical chips. A short amount of hunting enables the team to find the box labeled with the address provided to them, and the optical chip which Hobbes told them about is right where it should be.

Markus is in the front cab of the van, where he moves around the soft squishy human matter which survived the bursts from George and himself. On the driver he finds a revolver, and a short barreled remington shotgun. On the corpse which was riding shotgun, he finds a Ares Predator II, still in its holster, and an assault rifle, clutched in the dead man's hands. an underbarreled grenade launcher is attached.

Cortex Only
As Cortex finishes laying the road spikes, he hears chatter from the scanner

Markus popped his head out of the cab of the van, and took aim at the drone hovering above. He led the circling drone for a moment, and then let loose a long burst. The drone swerves, but does not escape the improvised flak, and is struck, beginning to smoke, the vehicle starts to limp away.

Cortex Only:

Cortex was sweating with the exertion of laying out the spike strips and the adrenaline of highway robbery when the scanner's squawk reached him. He subvocalized to the team:

"Four, all. Star has tactical team inbound, ETA 3 minutes. They're also setting up an 800 m perimeter around us. Need to make ourselves scarce before things get too hot.

Cortex Only

Caitlin, gritting her teeth, helps George loot the van, Cortex's warning only adding to their desperation. She breathes an audible sigh of relief when they find the chip. After making the switch, she tosses the envelope with the fake onto the pile of other discarded stuff. She would love to take a few minutes to clean up her astral signature, but that's time they don't have. She settles for leaving a spray grenade of bleach behind them.

"One, all. Objective complete. Now let's get out of here before we wear out our welcome."

Caitlin piles into the dilapitated getaway car with the others. As Cortex finally finishes with the strips and gets behind the wheel, she notes the retreating drone with satisfaction. But that's not the only avenue of pursuit. Opening her senses to the astral, she scans for any astral mages or spirits following them. "Pleeeaase let it be just a watcher spirit. Just a nice, weak watcher spirit that I can zap before it reports back." Normally, she is confident of her ability to zap anything lurking in astral space, but in her current condition, a spirit or an enemy mage could present some real problems.

The group piles into the car, and Cortex doesn't need any encouragement to hit the gas, and the "pre-owned" family car bolts forward, although loaded down by its four heavily armed passengers. As the car zooms forward, at a range of about 700 meters a two Nissan Patrol-1s are parked together, setting up an impromptu road block. Two LoneStar Patrolmen are visible, huddled behind their drivers side doors. The 'runners car is about 700 meters from the roadblock, and 200 meters from the previously noted alley way.

Caitlin Only

Sitting in the rear of the car next to Markus, Caitlin looks over her shoulder, her eyes strangely unfocused and slightly glowing.

"We are pursued already..." she murmurs. Then her face scrunches up in concentration as she raises a tremulous hand. The air around her seems to shimmer slightly for a brief second. "Yeah, let's see how you like that one," she murmurs faintly.

Cortex sprinted to the car and gunned the engine. As the ancient pistons started firing he said, "They've encrypted their channels -- we've lost ears," to no one in particular. Any followup to his statement was lost as he floored it toward the police barricades.

Hearing Caitlin inform them of magical pursuit didn't make him feel any better.

Caitlin saw the little black wraith wrapped in wispy blue mana for a moment, and than its aura flashes streaks of red, in anger, or more likely simply pain, and the thing flees.

Meanwhile in the real world, Cortex hits the breaks and executes his turn, just in time to hit the alley. The alley is perhaps 100 meters long, and then opens up into another road. The digitalized encryption begins squawking more rapidly, but gradually gives way as Cortex picks his way through back-streets moving ever closer to the barrens, where, its hoped, the 'star won't follow. after what seems like an hour or more, but in reality is about 15 mintues, the team finds themselves in the wonderfully desolate surroundings of Redmond. No pursuit seems to have found them..

All through the brief car chase, George couldn't help but pray. Pray that he wouldn't have to fire his weapon again. Pray that he would have to take the big guns out and mow down cops. Now, a few minutes ago, he had probably killed men... men that probably had families. But George didn't feel all that remorseful about it. They knew the risk of their jobs, just like he knew the risks of his line of work.

When Cortex finally hit the Barren, the big ork started to relax down. If things had come down to it, it would have been called on him to shoot a way out for the team... something he wasn't very kind on doing. But faith, it seems, had decided otherwise. He would go home tonight. Most people would have been worried about cruising around in the Barren... but with the firepower the team was lugging around, he doubted very much anyone would mess with them.

Pulling his gasmask off, George booming voice filled the small car.

“Park somewhere chummer... we need to ditch this ride.”

As he said so, he massaged his shoulder... sore from the rifle slug that was still stuck in his armored jacket.

He turned around towards Caitlin and Markus.

"You guys ok?" he said, sweat rolling down on the side of his face.

Cortex breathed out as he hit the first few telltale potholes. Getting to the barrens meant that they'd won, more or less. He was in control again. The next move was theirs. They weren't ringed in by police, they'd outwitted them and gotten out okay.

Cortex responded to George's request saying, "On it, we need to find an underpass or building to shake drone cover though. Give me a minute"

He drove in silence for a bit and let the team's immediate concerns about first aid work themselves out. He had more to say about drones, radio contact and matrix use, but that could wait until he got a roof over his head.

Caitlin nods weakly to George's question, with a wavering but triumphant grin on her face. "Yeah, I'll be fine. A bit woozy from that gas, and tired from blasting those guards, but still functional, and with a bit of rest I'll be good as new. I managed to run off our magical pursuit... luckily, it was recon and not a heavy hitter... so once Cortex finds a good place to ditch the car, we can complete our escape."

She looks warily around at their surroundings. She's been here before, but that only means that she knows how dangerous it can be. "Originally, we were going to all split up, but condidering where we are, we might want to stick together until we get out of the Barrens. The good thing about the car is that once we clean up our traces, we can just leave it where it is, and it'll probably get boosted in under ten minutes."

Cortex finds a underpass, which doesn't seem to have carried vehicles in any direction in say.... 30 years. Standing around a barrel fire are two or three homeless men. They take only a passing notice in the car and its occupants, and than go back to staying warm.

Cortex stopped the car and twisted with one hand on the seat to face his passengers. He slid his respirator off and said:

"Alright, this may be a bit paranoid but we should switch to our backup radio channel and use it as little as possible. Also our real cell phones are kind of a liability too. I'll set up a matrix dead drop where we can swap pre-paid phone numbers to get in touch. Don't say anything incriminating over the phone either, talk around the subject."

Satisfied that no one would be able to track them on the matrix, Cortex paused to collect himself. He continued:

"Oh yeah, everyone ought to be careful about looking at the sky or going back home until we're sure we're not being drone tailed. No need to give Dassurn our faces or addresses."

Pushing the passenger door open, the big ork heaved himself out of the beaten up car. As he got out, the vehicle actually shifted and bumped on it's old shocks as a rather important weight was taken off. George was already not such a light puppy. The massive amount of gear he carried didn't help.

Carefully, he scanned the surroundings, his assault rifle still hanging from it's sling and poking out from under the parted side of his coat. He gave a rapid glance at the homeless men... quickly disregarding them as harmless. Odds were, the bums had seen worst thing. Going round to the back seat, George pulled out the two big hockey bags he had brought with him. One had the collapsed LAW in it, and the other one the still brand new Ingram Valiant. Kneeling next to them, and shedding his coat, George started to undo clips on his combat vest, to unload and secure weapons.

“I say we torch this thing” he said, not even lifting his head from his opened bags.

Unstrapping his thigh holster, he started adjusting it unto his hip.

“We leave this place in pairs. The Barrens aren't exactly the safest of place. Two head for Sno, two for Rent. Once there, we split up, lay low, and meet back with H.”

Zipping back one of his now filled bags, George went around to the trunk.

"Agreed, two people armed should not look out of place, try keep to covers. Be carefull with those bags, might draw some unwanted attention. I'll take Cortex with me."

Markus did a quick weapons check, tossing the assault rifle over his shoulder, hopefully to discourage someone from thinking him an easy target.

"A burning vehicle might just draw attention to us a little faster then planned."

George got back up, drawing his Savalette Guardian to make a quick brass check.

"You're right." he said to the attention of Markus.

"We also need to fence the data fast. The longer we wait, the cheaper it'll become. If we got ourselves a secure line, I can make the call."

Taking one of his oversized hockey bag, he heaved it off the concrete floor, passing it over his head and the strap around his shoulders. His shoulder was hurting like a bitch, but he would be fine. A big bruise would be the only thing left from the day's work. George was starting to regret having brought so much firepower along... but then again, things might have turned a lot uglier, much faster.

Caitlin nods.

"Yeah, we should try to get this data fenced before we go to ground. I agree that we should lay low for a few days after we sell this data. From my research into them, Dassurn tends to be vindictive. We don't need another meet with H, since we got the fee in advance, and any loot is ours. However, I am going to let him know, through my fixer, that Russ apparently took the money and ran. He didn't betray us to Dassurn, but he does know our faces and who our Johnson is. I'll leave it to H to decide what steps he wants to take about that."


She turns to the other two.

"Cortex, Markus, after we split up, I can't scan the astral for anything following you. I took care of the initial pursuit, so you'll probably be all right, as long as you get into and out of a few places with wards once you're out of the Barrens."

Cortex quickly swapped gear into and out of his backpack and joined the rest of the group wearing a new shirt, a pair of thick rimmed glasses and a hastily rearranged haircut.

"I'd rather see the car get joyridden around the barrens for a few days to throw off pursuit. I stowed some bleach in the trunk in case you want to give it another once over for DNA."

Turning to George he added, "I'll set up a disposable data account for you once I get to a computer. You ought to be able to upload the goods from any public dataterm and sell them to whatever bidder you choose. I'll leave a little script to wipe the logs too."

He scribbled out the details of his plan on a sheet of paper, left it with George and said, "Good luck, you two." Catch you in a few days.

He turned and headed South towards Renton. The place was close enough to his stomping grounds growing up that he was comfortable with it. Markus fell in step as Cortex carefully left the cover of the underpass. He would have preferred Caitlin as a traveling partner, but it made more sense to split the muscle up than to send the two more fragile team members together.

He attempted to make conversation: "So, come from corpsec?"

Pulling the strap of his second large duffel, George made some sort of grunting noise as he lifted it. There was no doubt about it, the big ork was strong. Probably stronger than most ork. Probably stronger than most trolls. But the nevertheless, the fact he was carrying enough weapons to outfit a small military unit was starting to take its toll. With his free hand, he took his signature mirror shades out of his breast pocket, flipped them open in a swift jerk of the wrist and slipped them on.

As Markus and Cortex headed in one direction, he gave a nod to Caitlin, telling her in his own way that he was ready. Seconds later, the pair was leaving in the opposite direction. After a few minutes of walking in silence amongst the shadows of derelict buildings, George spoke up.

“This Russ guy... is he a liability?” he said, his voice hinting to some concern.

He continued before Caitlin could answer.

“Because if he is... we need to take care of him now.”

Caitlin's cool soprano voice is unruffled as she answers. Her spells may be nonlethal, but she doesn't seem to have compunctions about working with people who use lethal means.

"Personally, I think he would have betrayed us before the heist, if that were his intention. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that he took the five grand and skipped town. You can't run off on a job like that and find work again. If he compounded that by ratting on the rest of us, the repurcussions, from the rest of the underworld, would be far worse for him than for us."

As they pass through an area of leaning walls and strewn rubble, she makes sure that she is not visible from above before swiftly doffing her mask and shades, putting them both in a garbage can fire - the muttering squatter huddled nearby barely seems to notice.

"However, we still need to put the word out to the Johnson, and our fixers, that this guy skipped out on the job. And we might want to do some legwork ourselves. He might have gone on a three-day BTL bender, he might have gotten mugged and geeked in an alley, or he might be in Denver by now. But if he's around, and can't account for himself to our satisfaction, then we do need to take whatever steps are necessary to protect ourselves."

George shifted his bag from one shoulder unto the other.

“Well, we can't go after him right now. We'll get rid of these first” he said, tapping the bag “and take it easy for a few days. I'm sure the ruckus we kicked is going to be all over the trid.”

Seattle Metroplex, Friday, 3:00pm

It is an uneventful, but pleasant walk back their bolt-holes for the team. it helps them come down from the adrenaline high of combat and fear of discovery. When Cortex arrives at his home, he spends time finding a safe dataspace to stash the paydata. Cortex did a routine scan of some of the more obvious security flaws, and when satisfied, sent George a message that the dataspace was ready.

Meanwhile, George arrived at his home. After the obligatory greeting to the spouse, George was able to find a moment of peace to go over what was found. In addition to the optical chips, containing what was presumed to be pay-data. It would be difficult to determine its value until someone, probably Miron, went over it and made a determination. Then there was also a whole stack of bearer bonds at a total value of 200,000, and stock certificates for a series of five, B rated corporations totalling 60,000. Honestly, it was slightly suprising to find anyone still trading in dead trees like this, but some people still like the feel of something physical between their thumb and index finger to know they own something. So much the pity for them.

Going over what the team had taken from their heist, George became more and more hesitant as to wheter he could find a buyer for them fast. If it had been any sort of hot gear, it would have been a piece of cake.... because he could have taken his time. But this was different. It was data. The price tag was attached to a timer.

Picking up his cellphone from the table, he dialed a number someone had given him now quite some time ago.

"Hoi Cait.... it's George. I'm going to need a hand getting rid of all of this."

Caitlin nods into the vid pickup of her trid. "Understood. Let me know the time and the place, and I'll be there. I know some people if you need the data appraised or fenced, but I won't contact them if you already have that lined up - no need to involve any more middlemen than we have to."

Markus parted ways with Cortex a short distance from his safehouse. Checking in he dumped most of his excess bagage in the nearest storage.

After a quick shower he left George a message in the dropbox: 'Safe and secure, let me know if/when you need me. I may have some contacts who could be interested in the paydata if its worth anything.'

Caitlin listens to George list their acquisitions. "Stock? Bearer bonds? Hmm, this changes things. The price isn't that flexible on those things - but we want to expedite getting them liquidated. I'll see if I can contact some people to help with that. Now about the paydate... you already have someone who can appraise it? Good, I won't worry about that. I'll just help you get a good price for it when the time comes - might want to see if Cortex has any connections in that area."

saying goodbye to George, she opens a secure line to Spindler. "Spindler? It's Cait. Yes, it went pretty smoothly, all things considered. We had a no-show, though, that Russ fellow. No, I know he's not one of yours. Just putting the word out. He is not reliable. Oh, and if you hear anything about him, would you please let me know? Our group may need to... debrief... him."

Caitlin's tone lightens. "But on to more pleasant business. We have some stock and bearer bonds that we need to sell, preferably quickly. Yes? Splendid. You have my number. I'll wait for your call."