Unidentified Voice 1:This line is secure?
Unidentified Voice 2: Of course it is. Speak freely.
UV 1: We have the datum you've requested, but its time to discuss the fee.
UV 2: You'll be compensated accordingly.
UV 1: We want 20% of the purchase price, with 15% in stock.
UV 2: That's excessive.
UV1: (inaudible) over the whole company with a bow tied around it? I don't think so.
UV 2: Fine.
UV 1: We'll include the information in our regular delivery.
UV 2: Take all necessary precautions.
The man they called Mr. Fabian jacked out a few moments later, sure of himself that once again Dassurn had advanced its financial interests with only the most delicate influence upon the market. What did that upstart expect anyway? This was simply what happened when guppies swim with sharks.
Full Version: Initial Shadow Offering 2
George Only
Caitlin only
Nadia Only
Markus Only
[ Spoiler ]
Caitlin only
[ Spoiler ]
Nadia Only
[ Spoiler ]
Markus Only
[ Spoiler ]
Caitlin hums happily, feeling as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She flutters around the room, compulsively straightening the print of a Japanese ink brush painting that she got to brighten up the room a bit, then twisting her hands together. Dammit, she's still nervous. It's such a relief to have work, but why did the meet have to be in a nightclub?
She mentally steels herself. She's faced down crazed BTL addicts, gang bosses, and worse. This... should be no problem. Taking a deep breath, she begins by sitting down at her telecom, trying to boot up the matrix connection, cursing when she realizes that the rationed electical utilities won't be up for another hour, then flipping on the battered battery pack.
She plans on seeing if she can find a set of floorplans, but finds something even better - a virtual tour of the club. The perky tour guide is annoying, as are the pop-up ads, but she still wades through the thing until she is confident that she will be able to navigate even under the nightclub's confusing conditions. Going there in person would be better, of course, but going there during the day, then back that night, would look too suspicious.
Armor will be a problem. Even her slim-line vest would be obvious under club clothing, so she will have to pick an ensemble that will go with her black, street-styled secure jacket. And that will get her past the bouncer. She would rather show up in a suit, but she doesn't have the stroke to get away with that kind of move yet, so she'll have to look like a typical club-goer.
She winds up with her hair moussed into a wilder, tousled look, and in addition to her usual silvery lipstick she is wearing just a wee bit too much eyeliner. She wears a studded synthleather choker, and a midriff-baring black half-tee with abstract silvery runes on it. With hip-hugging black jeans and black workboots, topped off with the jacket, worn open, she looks just like any other corporate suit trying to look "street" to go slumming.
She bites her lower lip nervously as she looks in the mirror. Even this relatively tame outfit is still more skin than she is used to showing. She mentally shakes herself. No, that won't do at all. Her eyes harden and her chin comes up, until she looks confident again - a bit more cocky than self-assured, but that fits the look, so it's all good.
The weather is unnaturally good for Seattle, so she eats her dinner sitting on the front steps of her brownstone, chatting amiably with one of her neighbors (who seems to be drinking his dinner... out of a paper bag).
She takes the tube to the neighborhood around the club, getting a few more leers and comments than usual in her club attire. She waits patiently in line, although the wait is not that long. Dante's is really cutting into Club Penumbra's business, although it still seems brisk enough for a weekday. She gets a drink and wanders around, blending in with the crowd as she gets a first-hand impression of their security, including things like wards. She is nearly an hour early, so she has plenty of time to adjust to the place. At 11:10 or so, she starts to wander back towards Booth 115.
She mentally steels herself. She's faced down crazed BTL addicts, gang bosses, and worse. This... should be no problem. Taking a deep breath, she begins by sitting down at her telecom, trying to boot up the matrix connection, cursing when she realizes that the rationed electical utilities won't be up for another hour, then flipping on the battered battery pack.
She plans on seeing if she can find a set of floorplans, but finds something even better - a virtual tour of the club. The perky tour guide is annoying, as are the pop-up ads, but she still wades through the thing until she is confident that she will be able to navigate even under the nightclub's confusing conditions. Going there in person would be better, of course, but going there during the day, then back that night, would look too suspicious.
Armor will be a problem. Even her slim-line vest would be obvious under club clothing, so she will have to pick an ensemble that will go with her black, street-styled secure jacket. And that will get her past the bouncer. She would rather show up in a suit, but she doesn't have the stroke to get away with that kind of move yet, so she'll have to look like a typical club-goer.
She winds up with her hair moussed into a wilder, tousled look, and in addition to her usual silvery lipstick she is wearing just a wee bit too much eyeliner. She wears a studded synthleather choker, and a midriff-baring black half-tee with abstract silvery runes on it. With hip-hugging black jeans and black workboots, topped off with the jacket, worn open, she looks just like any other corporate suit trying to look "street" to go slumming.
She bites her lower lip nervously as she looks in the mirror. Even this relatively tame outfit is still more skin than she is used to showing. She mentally shakes herself. No, that won't do at all. Her eyes harden and her chin comes up, until she looks confident again - a bit more cocky than self-assured, but that fits the look, so it's all good.
The weather is unnaturally good for Seattle, so she eats her dinner sitting on the front steps of her brownstone, chatting amiably with one of her neighbors (who seems to be drinking his dinner... out of a paper bag).
She takes the tube to the neighborhood around the club, getting a few more leers and comments than usual in her club attire. She waits patiently in line, although the wait is not that long. Dante's is really cutting into Club Penumbra's business, although it still seems brisk enough for a weekday. She gets a drink and wanders around, blending in with the crowd as she gets a first-hand impression of their security, including things like wards. She is nearly an hour early, so she has plenty of time to adjust to the place. At 11:10 or so, she starts to wander back towards Booth 115.
George dropped himself on the couch with a heavy sigh. Although it was already late September, and the air was heavy with humidity, the ork felt himself sweat. He had spent all day getting in and out of the car, walking around neighborhoods and seeing houses. Judith, on the other hand wasn’t even huffing and puffing… even with the extra weight she was lugging around in her belly. George, on the other hand, felt totally beaten. Beaten but satisfied nevertheless.
Judith, sitting close by, rocked herself gently, singing all the while caressing her ballooned belly. Her melodious voice felt soothing to her husband’s ears, as he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. Opening them back up, he gently smiled at her, watching her from across the room. She was so beautiful.
Clipped on his belt, he had felt the periodical buzzing of his phone. He had promised Judith to spend the day with her, and so, he had ignored it. But the fact that someone had left a message, on his “work phone” meant it was, after all, probably important.
As Judith kept her gentle singing going, George carried his large frame in the next room and sat on the bed as he listened to the message.
Miron.
Hearing his fixer’s voice brought on a strange mix of feelings. Half of him was happy. A call from Miron meant work. Work meant money. Money meant he could make the down payment on the house. The other half was sad. Work meant leaving Judith alone for some time. It also meant running the risk of making her a widow.
The fact that the Johnson had specifically asked for him, George Pliskin, and not just some random muscle, was both a flattering and worrying thing. Actually, George was more worried than anything. He knew from experience that security at the Penumbra was pretty good. It was known to be a shadowrunner hangout, and situated only a few blocks away from the Renraku Archology, people rarely started trouble there. But that still didn’t mean it wasn’t a trap.
For a few seconds, George pondered his next move. If it was a trap, he’d need backup. His first call would be to Smiley. If the enforcer was already working, or simply too busy, he’d try to reach Jaxon. If neither could provide backup… he’d just have to wing it on luck.
Judith, sitting close by, rocked herself gently, singing all the while caressing her ballooned belly. Her melodious voice felt soothing to her husband’s ears, as he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. Opening them back up, he gently smiled at her, watching her from across the room. She was so beautiful.
Clipped on his belt, he had felt the periodical buzzing of his phone. He had promised Judith to spend the day with her, and so, he had ignored it. But the fact that someone had left a message, on his “work phone” meant it was, after all, probably important.
As Judith kept her gentle singing going, George carried his large frame in the next room and sat on the bed as he listened to the message.
Miron.
Hearing his fixer’s voice brought on a strange mix of feelings. Half of him was happy. A call from Miron meant work. Work meant money. Money meant he could make the down payment on the house. The other half was sad. Work meant leaving Judith alone for some time. It also meant running the risk of making her a widow.
The fact that the Johnson had specifically asked for him, George Pliskin, and not just some random muscle, was both a flattering and worrying thing. Actually, George was more worried than anything. He knew from experience that security at the Penumbra was pretty good. It was known to be a shadowrunner hangout, and situated only a few blocks away from the Renraku Archology, people rarely started trouble there. But that still didn’t mean it wasn’t a trap.
For a few seconds, George pondered his next move. If it was a trap, he’d need backup. His first call would be to Smiley. If the enforcer was already working, or simply too busy, he’d try to reach Jaxon. If neither could provide backup… he’d just have to wing it on luck.
Smiley doesn't get around to call George back in time, so he makes his second call.
Jaxon says, "Null sheen, I'll be there chum. By me a couple drinks after and well call it even."
Jaxon says, "Null sheen, I'll be there chum. By me a couple drinks after and well call it even."
Markus rolled over as his pager went off, it had been a long night, why did clients insist on partying till the earlies hours of the morning. Job ment money even if people were pains, as long as all the ones and zero's were in the right place it did not matter.
The last few weeks had been quiet, strangely so, small jobs here and there nothing major, prehaps something was brewing. Markus punched in his reply, "I'll be there.", then rolled over back to sleep.
Couple hours before the meet he rose, showered and got dressed, his form fitting beneith his Armani Suit, they might not be the fashion these days but one thing about Armani, they were still quality. Sliding his Salavetti into his concealed holister, after a quick check that all was working, he headed out to the club. They would probably check him at the door but he never went anywhere without a weapon.
He had the cab drop him off outside the front door. He ignored the stares as he jumped the line heading straight in, "Johnson, Booth 115".
The last few weeks had been quiet, strangely so, small jobs here and there nothing major, prehaps something was brewing. Markus punched in his reply, "I'll be there.", then rolled over back to sleep.
Couple hours before the meet he rose, showered and got dressed, his form fitting beneith his Armani Suit, they might not be the fashion these days but one thing about Armani, they were still quality. Sliding his Salavetti into his concealed holister, after a quick check that all was working, he headed out to the club. They would probably check him at the door but he never went anywhere without a weapon.
He had the cab drop him off outside the front door. He ignored the stares as he jumped the line heading straight in, "Johnson, Booth 115".
Cradling his bowl of soup in his hands, and trying not too spill any on the couch, George slowly sipped his supper as he intensively watch the last Urban Brawl game on the trid. Nearby, Judith was browsing through some data file she had downloaded off the local public library; some ridiculous report about how music made babies develop faster. Nervously, the ork eyed his elven wife. She hated his line of work… and he still hadn’t mentioned the job opportunity Miron had talked about earlier in the day.
His anxiety level shot up when the telecom rang… and Judith reached for it. She chatted, rather briefly, with whoever it was before handing the unit to her husband.
“It’s for you.” She said with a slight frown.
George grabbed the cordless unit and walked into the kitchen, at least making the effort not to subject his wife to too much.
“Hoi.”
“Hey Georgie! Whats up chummer!”
“Hey Jaxon, how you doing?”
“Oh, you know the streets man; same ol things. Heard you was looking for me?”
“Yea… I need a little favor from you.” He said in a whisper
George leaned a bit backward to cast a rapid glance in the living room. Judith was back to her reading.
“Well, I owe you more than once chummer. What can I do for ya?”
“I’ve got a meet, tonight, 11:30, at Penumbra. It’s probably nothing big, but I need someone to watch my back.”
“Null sheen, I'll be there chum. By me a couple drinks after and well call it even.”
“Good” said George, now speaking in his usual voice “a few drinks sounds like a good deal. I’ll see you then.”
He hadn’t even hung up for a second that Judith came into the kitchen, putting George’s empty soup bowl in the sink. While washing it with her delicate hands, her deep brown eyes went to her husband.
“What was that all about?”
“Oh” he said while dropping the receiver on the counter “nothing big, babe”
He hugged her gently from behind.
“Just Jaxon who wants to go out for a few drinks. You know… catch up on the old times.”
Even if the ork couldn’t see the delicate Chinese features of his wife’s face, he knew she was probably frowning.
“I’ll probably be out until the early hours of the morning. And don’t worry, if I get too drunk to drive, I’ll just crash in one of the coffin motels downtown.
----------
A few hours later, at 10:30, George was standing outside Penumbra. He’d make contact with Jaxon, scope the place out, and wait for the 11:30.
His anxiety level shot up when the telecom rang… and Judith reached for it. She chatted, rather briefly, with whoever it was before handing the unit to her husband.
“It’s for you.” She said with a slight frown.
George grabbed the cordless unit and walked into the kitchen, at least making the effort not to subject his wife to too much.
“Hoi.”
“Hey Georgie! Whats up chummer!”
“Hey Jaxon, how you doing?”
“Oh, you know the streets man; same ol things. Heard you was looking for me?”
“Yea… I need a little favor from you.” He said in a whisper
George leaned a bit backward to cast a rapid glance in the living room. Judith was back to her reading.
“Well, I owe you more than once chummer. What can I do for ya?”
“I’ve got a meet, tonight, 11:30, at Penumbra. It’s probably nothing big, but I need someone to watch my back.”
“Null sheen, I'll be there chum. By me a couple drinks after and well call it even.”
“Good” said George, now speaking in his usual voice “a few drinks sounds like a good deal. I’ll see you then.”
He hadn’t even hung up for a second that Judith came into the kitchen, putting George’s empty soup bowl in the sink. While washing it with her delicate hands, her deep brown eyes went to her husband.
“What was that all about?”
“Oh” he said while dropping the receiver on the counter “nothing big, babe”
He hugged her gently from behind.
“Just Jaxon who wants to go out for a few drinks. You know… catch up on the old times.”
Even if the ork couldn’t see the delicate Chinese features of his wife’s face, he knew she was probably frowning.
“I’ll probably be out until the early hours of the morning. And don’t worry, if I get too drunk to drive, I’ll just crash in one of the coffin motels downtown.
----------
A few hours later, at 10:30, George was standing outside Penumbra. He’d make contact with Jaxon, scope the place out, and wait for the 11:30.
Russ and Cortex Only
George Only
Markus and Caitlin Only
[ Spoiler ]
George Only
[ Spoiler ]
Markus and Caitlin Only
[ Spoiler ]
It had been half an hour since John had first decided that a trip to the bathroom would be a nice perk, but Hobbes had been very insistent on having both he and the ork present when whatever was going to happen did happen. John didn't like the fact his employer kep him in the dark. He did , however, like the fact that he had an employer; the bills had been getting tight and Spinner hadn't given him anything until Hobbes' down payment took care of the rent and two weeks of ramen.
Of course, Spinner knew him as Cortex, so Hobbes knew him as Cortex. It felt strange having that particular handle bandied about in daily conversation, he felt especially dumb when it was things like: "Cortex, could you check the PO box and get some donuts." He fidgeted at that thought.
He calmed hiimself down and snapped back to the present as the door opened revealing a group of characters who were all, more or less, shady. He flashed an easy grin at the newcomers and straigtened his suit coat in preparation for business.
Of course, Spinner knew him as Cortex, so Hobbes knew him as Cortex. It felt strange having that particular handle bandied about in daily conversation, he felt especially dumb when it was things like: "Cortex, could you check the PO box and get some donuts." He fidgeted at that thought.
He calmed hiimself down and snapped back to the present as the door opened revealing a group of characters who were all, more or less, shady. He flashed an easy grin at the newcomers and straigtened his suit coat in preparation for business.
Russ couldn't help but eye the three newcomers as they filed into the room. In his own mind, he hoped that these figures had at least some Polish or Russian blood in them. Anyone outside the Vory, you never knew which way they were going to turn. The whirring of his cyberarm was a constant reminder of that.
In return to the suit's smile, Russ' face only turned down more. Someone with a history they wanted to hide would present only a nicer exterior than the truth. A set face was the norm, frowns common. When they smiled... that was when you knew there could be trouble. Russ kept his eye on the man, meanwhile fiddling with one of his thin necklaces.
In return to the suit's smile, Russ' face only turned down more. Someone with a history they wanted to hide would present only a nicer exterior than the truth. A set face was the norm, frowns common. When they smiled... that was when you knew there could be trouble. Russ kept his eye on the man, meanwhile fiddling with one of his thin necklaces.
Markus nodded greeting to the group seated at the table. Taking a chair nearest the door he seated himself down. He looked over the two new people sitting next to Hobbes.
The orc in Gangster attired seems a bit odd for this crowd, he does not seem to be to comfortable with our presence or prehaps someone in particular. The decker is most likely a business associate or employee of Hobes, at least he seems to have some vague sense of dress code.
The orc in Gangster attired seems a bit odd for this crowd, he does not seem to be to comfortable with our presence or prehaps someone in particular. The decker is most likely a business associate or employee of Hobes, at least he seems to have some vague sense of dress code.
Caitlin smiles warmly as she greets the people in the room. She was pleased to run into Markus, and she is just as happy to see George. She remembers both of the augmented men as having a professional deportment, and being extremely effective in violent confrontations. She feels a sudden self-consciousness about her club attire - she didn't think she'd run into anyone she had met before - but she hides it behind her usual mask of unruffled calm.
She doesn't recognize the other two men, and is unsure if they are fellow runners, or part of Hobbes' new entourage. The ork seems like cheap muscle, although appearances can be deceiving. The man in the suit could be anything. She opens her sight to the astral - she concentrates on the two new people, since she has already used her astral perception on the other three before.
She doesn't recognize the other two men, and is unsure if they are fellow runners, or part of Hobbes' new entourage. The ork seems like cheap muscle, although appearances can be deceiving. The man in the suit could be anything. She opens her sight to the astral - she concentrates on the two new people, since she has already used her astral perception on the other three before.
Having a good chummer to watch your back was something terribly precious in the shadows. George had learned that fact at a very young age. The only thing that made him slightly uneasy about the meet was the fact he had relinquished his weapons at the entrance. Penumbra had rather strict policies about packing heat inside the club. Being mainly a runner hangout, it made everyone feel a bit less paranoid to know the other patrons were weapon-free. The human looking ork still had the size and skills to take on pretty much anyone in hand to hand combat… and the cyber spurs tucked in his left hand were more than capable of chopping limbs off.
Even in the dimmed light of the room, the man kept his mirror shades, his natural ork vision more than enough to compensate for the darkness. Seeing another ork in the room made him slightly uneasy. Because of some genetic abnormality, George did not look like an ork. He had the physical built and attributes of his metatype, but none of the usual “appearance traits” his kind had. No rough skin, no horns or oversized tusks. As a matter of fact, the only thing that could flag George as an ork were his numerous almost fang like teeth, and the fact he was just built with the same size as most ork. All that… and a DNA scan.
Although he clearly recognized Hobbes, George made no sign to acknowledge him. His presence somewhat reassured the ork that the whole affair wasn’t a trap. If Hobbes was somewhat connected to the business they were about to conduct, it would easily explain why he was the one who had been reached out.
When Caitlin and Markus entered, George suspicions were confirmed. It was a job offer. Once again, the human looking ork showed no sign of recognizing any of the two operatives. He had no idea who the other ork, and probably the decker, were. If things went south, he would be able to count on some element of surprise.
Undoing the only button that kept his business suit’s jacket closed, George took one of the available seats.
Even in the dimmed light of the room, the man kept his mirror shades, his natural ork vision more than enough to compensate for the darkness. Seeing another ork in the room made him slightly uneasy. Because of some genetic abnormality, George did not look like an ork. He had the physical built and attributes of his metatype, but none of the usual “appearance traits” his kind had. No rough skin, no horns or oversized tusks. As a matter of fact, the only thing that could flag George as an ork were his numerous almost fang like teeth, and the fact he was just built with the same size as most ork. All that… and a DNA scan.
Although he clearly recognized Hobbes, George made no sign to acknowledge him. His presence somewhat reassured the ork that the whole affair wasn’t a trap. If Hobbes was somewhat connected to the business they were about to conduct, it would easily explain why he was the one who had been reached out.
When Caitlin and Markus entered, George suspicions were confirmed. It was a job offer. Once again, the human looking ork showed no sign of recognizing any of the two operatives. He had no idea who the other ork, and probably the decker, were. If things went south, he would be able to count on some element of surprise.
Undoing the only button that kept his business suit’s jacket closed, George took one of the available seats.
Hobbes seems geninuely pleased to see the 'runners as they come in, and he quickly motions for everyone to be seated.
"Please meet your colleagues," Hobbes says to Russ and Cortex. "This is George, Markus and Caitlin..." he seems to notice only now that someone is missing. "Goodness, it looks like Nadia didn't make it. That's a shame. But if no one objects I think we'll continue rather than to wait for her." Hobbes lightly taps a button on the table before them and the white noise generator kicks into action.
"These two gentlemen are Cortex and Russ." Hobbes says, gesturing to the human and the orc respectively. "They've been helping me with some of the preliminaries for this job, and should they,and you accept, than they will also take part in the job itself. The job is... more offensive in nature than the last work, and against a moving target. If you accept in theory, than I will continue with the details."
"Very well. As some of you are aware, I am the head of a company which is set to go public in just a few weeks. Part of the procedure for that effort is what is known as an initial public offering. This involves shopping around to various investors for a stock offering, in order to generate capital. I have recently learned that those who are supposed to operate on my behalf in this process, the Dassurn Security and Investments company have been in discussions with another corporation, to allow them to seize an... unhealthy percentage of the company. In order for them to complete the deal however, Dassurn must provide some crucial data about my company's finances to the competition. Your job will be to intercept this data, and replace it with falsified data I will provide to you." Hobbes pauses, reaches down to take a sip of water, looks around to see if there is any confusion so far, and than continues...
"Dassurn has a courier van service which runs a weekly route to provide data, bond certificates and such to their various clients. They don't trust matrix connections or we'd already have this work done. I have some details on the route I can provide to you. For this job I'll pay you 5,000
per person, plus you can keep whatever pay data or items of value the courier is carrying, which should be a good deal more than that. If you have any questions now would be a good time."
"Please meet your colleagues," Hobbes says to Russ and Cortex. "This is George, Markus and Caitlin..." he seems to notice only now that someone is missing. "Goodness, it looks like Nadia didn't make it. That's a shame. But if no one objects I think we'll continue rather than to wait for her." Hobbes lightly taps a button on the table before them and the white noise generator kicks into action.
"These two gentlemen are Cortex and Russ." Hobbes says, gesturing to the human and the orc respectively. "They've been helping me with some of the preliminaries for this job, and should they,and you accept, than they will also take part in the job itself. The job is... more offensive in nature than the last work, and against a moving target. If you accept in theory, than I will continue with the details."
[ Spoiler ]
"Very well. As some of you are aware, I am the head of a company which is set to go public in just a few weeks. Part of the procedure for that effort is what is known as an initial public offering. This involves shopping around to various investors for a stock offering, in order to generate capital. I have recently learned that those who are supposed to operate on my behalf in this process, the Dassurn Security and Investments company have been in discussions with another corporation, to allow them to seize an... unhealthy percentage of the company. In order for them to complete the deal however, Dassurn must provide some crucial data about my company's finances to the competition. Your job will be to intercept this data, and replace it with falsified data I will provide to you." Hobbes pauses, reaches down to take a sip of water, looks around to see if there is any confusion so far, and than continues...
"Dassurn has a courier van service which runs a weekly route to provide data, bond certificates and such to their various clients. They don't trust matrix connections or we'd already have this work done. I have some details on the route I can provide to you. For this job I'll pay you 5,000
per person, plus you can keep whatever pay data or items of value the courier is carrying, which should be a good deal more than that. If you have any questions now would be a good time."
Caitlin Only
[ Spoiler ]
Slowly and deliberately, George slid his shades off and hooked them in the collar of his crisp white shirt. His now exposed natural deep brown eyes went to lock themselves on Hobbes.
As George spoke, his low and booming voice echoed in the small room.
"I've got two questions for now: how quiet do you want it, and whats the policy on... collateral damage?"
As George spoke, his low and booming voice echoed in the small room.
"I've got two questions for now: how quiet do you want it, and whats the policy on... collateral damage?"
After Hobbes replies to George, Caitlin steeples her fingers under her chin and addresses their employer thoughtfully.
"The offer is acceptable, assuming the usual half in advance, and that the logistical information proves reliable."
"Damn, looks like I'm the only spellslinger again," she thinks. "I wish I had some anti-vehicular spells. But then again, I'm going to be assuming many functions as it is."
"The offer is acceptable, assuming the usual half in advance, and that the logistical information proves reliable."
"Damn, looks like I'm the only spellslinger again," she thinks. "I wish I had some anti-vehicular spells. But then again, I'm going to be assuming many functions as it is."
"A high profile robbery would almost certainly cause Dassurn some discomfort, since they are relied upon to be discrete with the information provided to them. I think i would rather enjoy that. As for collateral damage, any one standing between you and the objective is fair game, but please keep injuries to civilians to the bare minimum if at all possible."
Hobbes offers the briefest of smiles. Those who have met him before can tell that he's hardened since their last encounter. Perhaps it was seeing what other corporate players were willing to do to achieve their objectives. Listening to Caitlin for a moment he smiles,
"Oh your welcome to the 5,000 in advance. The contents of the courier should be more than enough to pique your interest to carry the job through to completion."
Hobbes offers the briefest of smiles. Those who have met him before can tell that he's hardened since their last encounter. Perhaps it was seeing what other corporate players were willing to do to achieve their objectives. Listening to Caitlin for a moment he smiles,
"Oh your welcome to the 5,000
in advance. The contents of the courier should be more than enough to pique your interest to carry the job through to completion."
High profile...
To George, it meant only one thing: they had to hit the courrier really hard and really fast. He'd need heavier hardware than what he currently had at home. First thing out of the meet would be calls to a few of his providers. If he had enough time, he would try to score some AV rounds.
As the ork watched Hobbes, he started to worry. The man had obviously gained in competence and self-confidence. He wasn't the "shaking in his shoes and pissing in his pants" college kid he had met about a month ago.
With Caitlin already accepting the contract, George didn't see any point in negociating a higher payment.
He nodded.
"The deal sounds good. I'm in."
To George, it meant only one thing: they had to hit the courrier really hard and really fast. He'd need heavier hardware than what he currently had at home. First thing out of the meet would be calls to a few of his providers. If he had enough time, he would try to score some AV rounds.
As the ork watched Hobbes, he started to worry. The man had obviously gained in competence and self-confidence. He wasn't the "shaking in his shoes and pissing in his pants" college kid he had met about a month ago.
With Caitlin already accepting the contract, George didn't see any point in negociating a higher payment.
He nodded.
"The deal sounds good. I'm in."
So we're knocking over a candy truck with some big guns. Sounds like fun, and if these slots don't drek over anyone else too badly, I may just have the start of some outside contacts to bring into the fold.
"5 Gees sounds good to my pocketbook, omae, but I'd like to know something; where does this courier go through? The Downtown? Near U-Dub? And if we're knocking it over, do they rely on meatshields to take their toys around, or are they paranoid enough that they rely on drones to drive the truck? 'I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in;' However, I, am not modest, and would so like to extort such information as is plausible."
"5 Gees sounds good to my pocketbook, omae, but I'd like to know something; where does this courier go through? The Downtown? Near U-Dub? And if we're knocking it over, do they rely on meatshields to take their toys around, or are they paranoid enough that they rely on drones to drive the truck? 'I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in;' However, I, am not modest, and would so like to extort such information as is plausible."
The apparently established team had sprung for Hobbes' deal quickly, without neotiation, and Cortex, having relatively little information about this side of his employer's wheelings and dealings figured that it would be wisest to go along with the group. Besides, 5 K up front with more to come would put a lot of food on the table and maybe even some of those tools he'd been eyeing.
After waiting for Russ's previous questions to clear the air and conversation to pause, he says:
"I'm in, but I'm curious about the need to hit the courier moving. Is there a reason we can't doctor the evidence beforehand?"
Every scrap of technical operations training he had received told him to use the right tools for the job and, assuming that he was the only technical support for this job, they weren't equipped to tango with a rigger. He didn't know about magic, but any Johnson worth his salt would try to cover that angle. Hobbes seemed worth his salt so far.
up front with more to come would put a lot of food on the table and maybe even some of those tools he'd been eyeing.After waiting for Russ's previous questions to clear the air and conversation to pause, he says:
"I'm in, but I'm curious about the need to hit the courier moving. Is there a reason we can't doctor the evidence beforehand?"
Every scrap of technical operations training he had received told him to use the right tools for the job and, assuming that he was the only technical support for this job, they weren't equipped to tango with a rigger. He didn't know about magic, but any Johnson worth his salt would try to cover that angle. Hobbes seemed worth his salt so far.
Hobbes listens to Russ, nodding several times before answering, frowning slightly as he attempts to puzzle out the ork's classy yet archaic speech pattern. Than he says,
" The courier van leaves in four days. It will leave from the main Dassurn property in the downtown area, it takes the 5 south through the downtown, before getting on the 520 into bellevue. Once there it will take a number of smaller roads, making stops, before it heads into Tacoma on the 405. At a facility in Tacoma the courier van will hand over our data, and by that point it'll be too late."
Hobbes takes another long sip on his drink before continuing with the next question. "Ironically considering Dassurn's technical proficiency, they tend to relay on warm bodies to transport and protect their couriers. That's probably because they know better than to trust technological toys, seeing as thats how they stole the data in the first place."
Listening to Cortex, Hobbes smiles widely, as if he expected the question.
"That's a good question, and the answer relates to what I said earlier. The Dassurn building is a small fortress, since they have plenty of hot paydata that companies would gladly kill for. Even if you got through to their mainframe, you'd have red hot ICE to cut through before getting your hands on the data. Better to take it on the move, when its simply a matter of pocketing the optical chip, bringing it home, and running some decryption."
" The courier van leaves in four days. It will leave from the main Dassurn property in the downtown area, it takes the 5 south through the downtown, before getting on the 520 into bellevue. Once there it will take a number of smaller roads, making stops, before it heads into Tacoma on the 405. At a facility in Tacoma the courier van will hand over our data, and by that point it'll be too late."
Hobbes takes another long sip on his drink before continuing with the next question. "Ironically considering Dassurn's technical proficiency, they tend to relay on warm bodies to transport and protect their couriers. That's probably because they know better than to trust technological toys, seeing as thats how they stole the data in the first place."
Listening to Cortex, Hobbes smiles widely, as if he expected the question.
"That's a good question, and the answer relates to what I said earlier. The Dassurn building is a small fortress, since they have plenty of hot paydata that companies would gladly kill for. Even if you got through to their mainframe, you'd have red hot ICE to cut through before getting your hands on the data. Better to take it on the move, when its simply a matter of pocketing the optical chip, bringing it home, and running some decryption."
"Five grand up front sounds goods and I am sure as you say the data they carry will fetch a rather good price. I do have a number of concerns though. A high profile robbery will not only cause them discomfort it is very likely to bring down alot of discomfort on us."
"If its a robbery, how will falsified data help, are they not more likely to check the contents before delivering to the target, or is the data in the truck the only copy. They are a securities company they will most likely have the data on hand seeing as they are responsible for the release. Even if the data was to be secretly exchanged, I'm sure someone will pick up that something does not figure right unless your modified values are enough to throw them to under purchase the stock."
Markus pauses a moment, knowing the others are probably wondering why he seems to be talking them out of a job.
"I see two primary options, one or the other has to happen."
"One, the information on the truck is the only information, we quietly swap it and Dassurn may or may not get a bad reputation for passing on bad information, but they no longer have the information and neither does their recipient."
"Two, they still have copies of the data, we fairly publicaly knock over their truck, steal their data, giving Dassurn a bad name, we then "auction off" your IPO information, you of course bidding and winning the auction. This should expose Dassurn's corrupt deal as that information should not be on a transport. Dassurn of course still have the IPO information and we've temporarily put a dent in their plans till they can make alternate arrangements. Either way we are going to have to get to that data."
Markus sits back awaiting a responce from either the others or Hobbes.
"If its a robbery, how will falsified data help, are they not more likely to check the contents before delivering to the target, or is the data in the truck the only copy. They are a securities company they will most likely have the data on hand seeing as they are responsible for the release. Even if the data was to be secretly exchanged, I'm sure someone will pick up that something does not figure right unless your modified values are enough to throw them to under purchase the stock."
Markus pauses a moment, knowing the others are probably wondering why he seems to be talking them out of a job.
"I see two primary options, one or the other has to happen."
"One, the information on the truck is the only information, we quietly swap it and Dassurn may or may not get a bad reputation for passing on bad information, but they no longer have the information and neither does their recipient."
"Two, they still have copies of the data, we fairly publicaly knock over their truck, steal their data, giving Dassurn a bad name, we then "auction off" your IPO information, you of course bidding and winning the auction. This should expose Dassurn's corrupt deal as that information should not be on a transport. Dassurn of course still have the IPO information and we've temporarily put a dent in their plans till they can make alternate arrangements. Either way we are going to have to get to that data."
Markus sits back awaiting a responce from either the others or Hobbes.
Hobbes stares intently at Markus, intrigued.
"I hadn't thought about that.." he says, plainly. " Of course the issue isn't Dassurn's possession of the information. They're supposed to have it. The issue is its arrival at this company, prior to the sale. Once the IPO is completed all of this information won't matter. My hope is, as you said, that the data will be just off enough to pass an immediate, especially a hurried inspection, but throw off the opposition's bid just enough that they're out of the running. If your act is convincing enough they will believe robbery is the true motive."
"I hadn't thought about that.." he says, plainly. " Of course the issue isn't Dassurn's possession of the information. They're supposed to have it. The issue is its arrival at this company, prior to the sale. Once the IPO is completed all of this information won't matter. My hope is, as you said, that the data will be just off enough to pass an immediate, especially a hurried inspection, but throw off the opposition's bid just enough that they're out of the running. If your act is convincing enough they will believe robbery is the true motive."
Joining both his hands together, George leaned in forward towards Hobbes.
"Give us everything you have and we'll get the job done."
He turned his attention to the newly formed team.
"We have about 96 hours until we hit the courrier. We should get to work right now."
"Give us everything you have and we'll get the job done."
He turned his attention to the newly formed team.
"We have about 96 hours until we hit the courrier. We should get to work right now."
Hobbes reaches into his pocket, and pulls out two optical chips, one silver, the other gold.
"The gold one is your replacement chip. The silver contains some photos of the usual courier van and the address of DSI." He places the chips, and a number of certified credsticks on the table, one for everyone.
"Good luck. If you'd like to continue to use this room for its counter-survelliance equipment your welcome to do so."
He gets up, and if there is no other word, leaves quietly and alone.
"The gold one is your replacement chip. The silver contains some photos of the usual courier van and the address of DSI." He places the chips, and a number of certified credsticks on the table, one for everyone.
"Good luck. If you'd like to continue to use this room for its counter-survelliance equipment your welcome to do so."
He gets up, and if there is no other word, leaves quietly and alone.
Cortex responded to George, "I agree wholeheartedly."
"Are we staying here or does someone have a safehouse available?"
"Are we staying here or does someone have a safehouse available?"
Caitlin smiles coldly. "We've been discussing all kinds of shady business in this room - so if anyone has any doubts about how secure this room is, they're a bit late about it."
She looks around, measuringly. "I'm sure it will take more than one skull session before we're ready to roll, so for right now, how about some introductions all around, so we know what our resources are?
I'm Caitlin. Sorceress. Looks like I'll be handling the magical defenses for the group, whether it be incoming spells or hostiles spirits. Spell-wise, healing is my specialty. I have some stunning spells, but no anti-vehicular spells. I do have an invisibility spell, which also works on visual sensors, but I wouldn't be able to get all of us at once with it - one or two additional people, at most.
I also have extensive experience in a medical HTR team. That means that my mundane medical skills are just as good as my magical healing ability, and you'll find that I'm steadier under fire than the average spell-slinger. I'm also adept at tactics - mainly defensive, but that will let us anticipate what our target might do."
She looks around, measuringly. "I'm sure it will take more than one skull session before we're ready to roll, so for right now, how about some introductions all around, so we know what our resources are?
I'm Caitlin. Sorceress. Looks like I'll be handling the magical defenses for the group, whether it be incoming spells or hostiles spirits. Spell-wise, healing is my specialty. I have some stunning spells, but no anti-vehicular spells. I do have an invisibility spell, which also works on visual sensors, but I wouldn't be able to get all of us at once with it - one or two additional people, at most.
I also have extensive experience in a medical HTR team. That means that my mundane medical skills are just as good as my magical healing ability, and you'll find that I'm steadier under fire than the average spell-slinger. I'm also adept at tactics - mainly defensive, but that will let us anticipate what our target might do."
George nodded at Caitlin's comment, giving her a discreet smirk which revealed his razor sharp teeth for a brief moment.
Once the sorceress had presented herself, the large ork jumped in.
"The name's Pliskin. If it can bleed, I can bring it down. I have a solid training in everything that relates to combat; from small arms, to explosives and basic combat first aid."
Once the sorceress had presented herself, the large ork jumped in.
"The name's Pliskin. If it can bleed, I can bring it down. I have a solid training in everything that relates to combat; from small arms, to explosives and basic combat first aid."
There's more to this woman than her clothing, Cortex thought in response to Caitlin's icy comeback.
"Not so concerned about security as with amenities -- a dataterm is often useful in these sort of discussions," Cortex replied while leaning slightly forward.
"That aside, call me Cortex or John if you prefer. I like to advertise myself as across the board technical backup. If something needs to be put together, taken apart, blown up, stripped down or otherwise tinkered with I'm the man to do it. I've also had some infiltration experience particularly with subtle entry and security system analysis."
"I'm afraid I'm one deck short of a decker right now, but if we have terminal access I'll be able to slice IC with the best of them. Also, I'm not equipped to deal with riggers, so unless one of you is a driver or a electronic warfare guru I think it would be wise to avoid any running confrontation."
He settled back into the couch to work on the kernel of a plan which he was kicking around and hear the rest of the introductions.
"Not so concerned about security as with amenities -- a dataterm is often useful in these sort of discussions," Cortex replied while leaning slightly forward.
"That aside, call me Cortex or John if you prefer. I like to advertise myself as across the board technical backup. If something needs to be put together, taken apart, blown up, stripped down or otherwise tinkered with I'm the man to do it. I've also had some infiltration experience particularly with subtle entry and security system analysis."
"I'm afraid I'm one deck short of a decker right now, but if we have terminal access I'll be able to slice IC with the best of them. Also, I'm not equipped to deal with riggers, so unless one of you is a driver or a electronic warfare guru I think it would be wise to avoid any running confrontation."
He settled back into the couch to work on the kernel of a plan which he was kicking around and hear the rest of the introductions.
"I'm Markus, security consultant, and bodyguard. I can handle most things on foot, except for a hardened street sammy. I don't have anything that will help stop a vehicle directly."
The ork's voice boomed again in the small room.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to work with what we have."
He leaned in forward in his seat, both hands firmly set on his knees.
"Now, would anyone happen to have any sort of chip reader on them so we can see what we're going up agaisn't? We're on a tight timeframe... we have to move now."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to work with what we have."
He leaned in forward in his seat, both hands firmly set on his knees.
"Now, would anyone happen to have any sort of chip reader on them so we can see what we're going up agaisn't? We're on a tight timeframe... we have to move now."
All
After a few moments of searching around the runners are able to locate themselves a chip reader to take a look at the information provided to them by Hobbes. The team is rewarded with a photo-album, featuring about twelve photos. the first three each show the front of the Dassurn Securities and Investments Building. Than, in a series of time lapse shots, the photographs reveal a series of photos as a GMC Bulldog pulls into place. A team of two security guards in security armor and armed with assault rifles approach from the building followed by two more guards carrying a secure looking metal box. They approach the rear of the vehicle while three men unload from the back of the Bulldog, similarlly armed. The vehicle is loaded up, and than it takes off.
All
[ Spoiler ]
After a few moments of searching around the runners are able to locate themselves a chip reader to take a look at the information provided to them by Hobbes. The team is rewarded with a photo-album, featuring about twelve photos. the first three each show the front of the Dassurn Securities and Investments Building. Than, in a series of time lapse shots, the photographs reveal a series of photos as a GMC Bulldog pulls into place. A team of two security guards in security armor and armed with assault rifles approach from the building followed by two more guards carrying a secure looking metal box. They approach the rear of the vehicle while three men unload from the back of the Bulldog, similarlly armed. The vehicle is loaded up, and than it takes off.
All
[ Spoiler ]
It becomes almost immediately apparent to all that the van is heavily armored, with both its initial security armor and ablative armor attached to its sides and rear. Runflat tires also appear to be installed. One blessing however, the van does not appear to feature any kind of gunport nor hard or firm point weapons, so it looks like the handful of guards are the only firepower the team might have to overcome.
The ork's brow furrowed, and his forehead wrinkled as he studied the pictures. His usual mask of total neutrality had slipped off, showing a very unpleased face. George was obviously not liking what he saw.
“At least…” he started, rubbing his chin with his right hand “we won’t have to deal with a rigger or escort convoy…”
He sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“But the thing looks like a fragging vault of wheels. There is no way in hell that any regular small arms fire is going to put a dent in that thing. Odds are, it probably has enough mass to prevent anything from ramming it off it’s wheels… and with those run flats tires, we can’t simply blow the tires out.”
The big ork got out of his seat and started to slowly pace around the room.
“We’re going to have to come up with a way to stop this thing from moving. If they’re able to pick up speed… there’s very little we’ll be able to do to stop them. This means we have to pretty much permanently disable the vehicle. Either take out the motor, blow it off its wheels or take out who ever is in the cab. This just ain’t the kind of job where you can walk to the window and just highjack the thing…. And these goons are sporting heavy body armor. If push comes to shove, we’re going to have to use some rather heavy hardware to put them down.”
He stopped in his walk, leaning his broad back against one of the walls.
“I say we either put as much AV rounds into the cab as we can…. Or just toast it with some anti armor heavy weaponry. Something light and disposable…. Like a LAW launcher…”
“At least…” he started, rubbing his chin with his right hand “we won’t have to deal with a rigger or escort convoy…”
He sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“But the thing looks like a fragging vault of wheels. There is no way in hell that any regular small arms fire is going to put a dent in that thing. Odds are, it probably has enough mass to prevent anything from ramming it off it’s wheels… and with those run flats tires, we can’t simply blow the tires out.”
The big ork got out of his seat and started to slowly pace around the room.
“We’re going to have to come up with a way to stop this thing from moving. If they’re able to pick up speed… there’s very little we’ll be able to do to stop them. This means we have to pretty much permanently disable the vehicle. Either take out the motor, blow it off its wheels or take out who ever is in the cab. This just ain’t the kind of job where you can walk to the window and just highjack the thing…. And these goons are sporting heavy body armor. If push comes to shove, we’re going to have to use some rather heavy hardware to put them down.”
He stopped in his walk, leaning his broad back against one of the walls.
“I say we either put as much AV rounds into the cab as we can…. Or just toast it with some anti armor heavy weaponry. Something light and disposable…. Like a LAW launcher…”
Caitlin frowns intently at the video of the van. Her reply is slow and musing, as if she is thinking out loud.
"You know, I'm reminded of an old Sun Tzu quote: 'In war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.' This van is formidably armored, but it needs traction, and it needs to see where it's going. An oil slick, a spray grenade shooting paint on its forward sensors, another vehicle blocking its route where its room to turn or maneuver is blocked... we might have some options better than blowing the hell out of it. Although I'm not ruling that option out yet, either. But it risks damaging them too much. We still need them to be able to limp to their destination with the fake data."
"You know, I'm reminded of an old Sun Tzu quote: 'In war, the way is to avoid what is strong and to strike at what is weak.' This van is formidably armored, but it needs traction, and it needs to see where it's going. An oil slick, a spray grenade shooting paint on its forward sensors, another vehicle blocking its route where its room to turn or maneuver is blocked... we might have some options better than blowing the hell out of it. Although I'm not ruling that option out yet, either. But it risks damaging them too much. We still need them to be able to limp to their destination with the fake data."
Saved from the temptation of making a snide comment about dataterms by the arrival of the viewing devices, Cortex again leaned back onto the increasingly uncomfortable couch and chewed on his tongue as the images of the van streamed by.
After George and Caitlin's comments he adds "Don't forget that using heavy weapons risks torching the rest of our paycheck sitting in the back of the vault. I'm rather fond of the idea of using other vehicles to stop the courier; modifying a few stoplights or gridguide sensors on its route could go a long way towards slowing it down or even stopping it."
After George and Caitlin's comments he adds "Don't forget that using heavy weapons risks torching the rest of our paycheck sitting in the back of the vault. I'm rather fond of the idea of using other vehicles to stop the courier; modifying a few stoplights or gridguide sensors on its route could go a long way towards slowing it down or even stopping it."
"I agree, toasting part of the vehicle might cause more problems and the posible loss of data. Also remember killing the crew is not going to help our cause, the vehicle still needs to get to its destination, just with the wrong data in hand."
Markus pauses, a look of deep thought crosses his face, followed by the look of a light bulb going on.
"What is the weakest link in their entire chain... they use people. People are bribable. It should not be too hard to find out who works for the company and who their couriers are, we then either bribe or blackmail someone into giving us access along the way to do the datasteal and swap, of course we tell them as little as posible. Problem solved no need to try physicaly stop a vehicle quietly."
Markus pauses, a look of deep thought crosses his face, followed by the look of a light bulb going on.
"What is the weakest link in their entire chain... they use people. People are bribable. It should not be too hard to find out who works for the company and who their couriers are, we then either bribe or blackmail someone into giving us access along the way to do the datasteal and swap, of course we tell them as little as posible. Problem solved no need to try physicaly stop a vehicle quietly."
Caitlin hmmms noncommitally. "I like doing the social engineering thing myself, but four days is not a lot of time to compromise a corporate assett. And there is still only so much that an inside man could do - making the switch at the warehouse would make the job into a more complicated break-and-enter one, and leave us too dependent on someone we just bribed.
I'm afraid that, one way or another, we will have to hit that truck en route to its destination. Still, I wouldn't discount bribing one of them - the driver would be best. Every little bit of help will make the job go more smoothly."
She looks around the room, where she sees ideas forming, but not solidifying yet.
"Maybe, at this point, we need to split up, and do some individual legwork. Markus can see if we can turn one of the guards or the driver, Cortex can check out using another vehicle or messing with the route, George can scrounge up some heavy armament, just in case we need it, and I can scrounge up some less lethal goodies, as well as doing a bit more digging for information on our target. We can meet in about two days, say Matchsticks at 18:00? That will give us a day to finalize a plan and prepare to implement it."
She looks around the room for signs of agreement, or any dissenting voices. She is aware that she has left Russ out of the discussion, but she assumes the ork will have his own ideas, and might simply feel a bit out of place in the group.
She smiles impishly. "I'm sure I'll have some ideas - riding DocWagon, you run into all kinds of ingenious little ways that the local gangers come up with to stop an armored van."
I'm afraid that, one way or another, we will have to hit that truck en route to its destination. Still, I wouldn't discount bribing one of them - the driver would be best. Every little bit of help will make the job go more smoothly."
She looks around the room, where she sees ideas forming, but not solidifying yet.
"Maybe, at this point, we need to split up, and do some individual legwork. Markus can see if we can turn one of the guards or the driver, Cortex can check out using another vehicle or messing with the route, George can scrounge up some heavy armament, just in case we need it, and I can scrounge up some less lethal goodies, as well as doing a bit more digging for information on our target. We can meet in about two days, say Matchsticks at 18:00? That will give us a day to finalize a plan and prepare to implement it."
She looks around the room for signs of agreement, or any dissenting voices. She is aware that she has left Russ out of the discussion, but she assumes the ork will have his own ideas, and might simply feel a bit out of place in the group.
She smiles impishly. "I'm sure I'll have some ideas - riding DocWagon, you run into all kinds of ingenious little ways that the local gangers come up with to stop an armored van."
George didn't say it out loud, but he was damn satisfied that someone had decided to take the reins of the operation. The large ork had never considered himself a leader, maybe at the exception of combat situations. He had directed the last job, protecting Hobbes, but only based on the fact he had previous experience with the situation. Robbing armoured vans was not something he had on his current resume.
He gave an acknowledging nod to Caitlin; a silent thanks for making a move for the leadership position. She had already let it slip a few times that she was ex-D.W., and her knowledge of tactics and armoured vehicle operations would come in quite handy.
“Everything seems quite fair. Matchsticks at 18:00; in two days.”
After giving his telecom number to his new teammates, the big ork simply walked out of the room, not even sending a little goodbye or good luck their way.
Exiting the room, George rapidly spotted Jaxon still holding his watch.
Now, that is one good man.
The night was far from over. George not only had to make a few rounds of call here and there… he also had to pay his chummer a few drinks.
He gave an acknowledging nod to Caitlin; a silent thanks for making a move for the leadership position. She had already let it slip a few times that she was ex-D.W., and her knowledge of tactics and armoured vehicle operations would come in quite handy.
“Everything seems quite fair. Matchsticks at 18:00; in two days.”
After giving his telecom number to his new teammates, the big ork simply walked out of the room, not even sending a little goodbye or good luck their way.
Exiting the room, George rapidly spotted Jaxon still holding his watch.
Now, that is one good man.
The night was far from over. George not only had to make a few rounds of call here and there… he also had to pay his chummer a few drinks.
Cortex was impressed by Caitlin's seizure of command. He liked ladies who knew how to take charge of things. Granted, the last one had been more trouble than she was worth, but he had never been a man who let his past trouble him much.
Cortex finally got off the couch and snapped his white jacket back into position over a track runner's frame and smiled his biggest, nearly patented, winning grin at Caitlin. The smile had served him well over the years, winning passwords, plans and telecom numbers alike. He trusted that it would have the proper effect here.
"Look forward to working with you," he told Caitlin offering a hand to shake. Turning to face the room he said "Gentlemen, I'll catch you in a day or two," as he stepped backwards out the door.
Settling calmly into the club environment Cortex immediately began bumping and grinding to the nearest restroom and some long delayed gratification.
Cortex finally got off the couch and snapped his white jacket back into position over a track runner's frame and smiled his biggest, nearly patented, winning grin at Caitlin. The smile had served him well over the years, winning passwords, plans and telecom numbers alike. He trusted that it would have the proper effect here.
"Look forward to working with you," he told Caitlin offering a hand to shake. Turning to face the room he said "Gentlemen, I'll catch you in a day or two," as he stepped backwards out the door.
Settling calmly into the club environment Cortex immediately began bumping and grinding to the nearest restroom and some long delayed gratification.
Caitlin shows no reaction as George abruptly leaves. With someone else, she might have been a bit unsettled, but she already knows George enough to know that it is simply his style. Like George, she makes sure to pass out her pager number to the others.
"Likewise," she smiles at Cortex. The other ork is still a bit of an enigma to her, but she is starting an impression of John. He seems together, a team player, and a lot smoother than most techies that she has met. Of course, his background in infiltration might explain that. Although she reflexively returns his smile, it doesn't have the same effect on her that it might under more relaxed circumstances. She is still all business, and hiding her nervousness under her usual mask of calm.
She takes her leave of the others, then navigates the treacherous floor of the club, where fortunately the worst that happens to her is being hit on a few times. She remains alert as she wends her way home, but part of her continues to cogitate over the job, mulling tactics and possibilities.
"Likewise," she smiles at Cortex. The other ork is still a bit of an enigma to her, but she is starting an impression of John. He seems together, a team player, and a lot smoother than most techies that she has met. Of course, his background in infiltration might explain that. Although she reflexively returns his smile, it doesn't have the same effect on her that it might under more relaxed circumstances. She is still all business, and hiding her nervousness under her usual mask of calm.
She takes her leave of the others, then navigates the treacherous floor of the club, where fortunately the worst that happens to her is being hit on a few times. She remains alert as she wends her way home, but part of her continues to cogitate over the job, mulling tactics and possibilities.
Caitlin Only
George Only
Cortex Only
[ Spoiler ]
George Only
[ Spoiler ]
Cortex Only
[ Spoiler ]
Markus remained behind in the room at the club. Pulling up his phone list he put a call through to Balentyne.
"Hey man its Markus, how things hanging?"
Finishing up the chit chat and formalities, he continued.
"Look I need a couple things, some items and some information."
"Information first, I need a copy of Dassurn's staff list, primeraly their drivers and guards. Also any information on posible soft 'motivatible' employees."
"For the equipment, things might get a little tight considering the previous, I'm looking for some light or medium rated security armor, with helmet, and some APDS and if posible some AV ammo. I can toss a bit of cash around if need be but not that much."
"Thanks, I appreciate it let me know as soon as you have any information on any of it."
Markus closed the line, he leaned back into the chair, this was a rather large change in direction for him, he protected people made sure they came to no harm, going out and attacking, that was something else. He knew it would come to this someday, you take the odd shady job, you'll end up getting introduced to the other side. The money is a darn shade better though, of course the risks are just as much more. It was not that he did not trust his abilities.
"Hey man its Markus, how things hanging?"
Finishing up the chit chat and formalities, he continued.
"Look I need a couple things, some items and some information."
"Information first, I need a copy of Dassurn's staff list, primeraly their drivers and guards. Also any information on posible soft 'motivatible' employees."
"For the equipment, things might get a little tight considering the previous, I'm looking for some light or medium rated security armor, with helmet, and some APDS and if posible some AV ammo. I can toss a bit of cash around if need be but not that much."
"Thanks, I appreciate it let me know as soon as you have any information on any of it."
Markus closed the line, he leaned back into the chair, this was a rather large change in direction for him, he protected people made sure they came to no harm, going out and attacking, that was something else. He knew it would come to this someday, you take the odd shady job, you'll end up getting introduced to the other side. The money is a darn shade better though, of course the risks are just as much more. It was not that he did not trust his abilities.
Markus Only
edited: Per converstation between Tashio and I.
[ Spoiler ]
edited: Per converstation between Tashio and I.
Cortex walked from the tube station to his dilapidated flat in Auburn and felt every crack in the pavement along the way. This was his stomping ground, the place he came of age, and he the only place he felt more comfortable was crawling around inside of a computer case. In spite of the industrial stink he breathed deeply and strode over the threshold of his apartment then up the creaking stairs and into hi s own corner of Auburn.
John walked passed the rack of ancient, dissembled dataterms to the one he'd cobbled together from spare parts and quickly placed a call to Spinner letting the elusive fixer's voicemail know that he was in the market for electrical and mechanical specs of the GMC Bulldog, Seattle Gridguide Sensors and the standard traffic lights in the area. Anything more specific he was going to have to find himself.
A few matrix searches revealed that the Bulldog was wired on a MegaCAN bus, an Ares creation of the early 2040's which, he was fairly sure, meant any modules would be running on MCT HardWEAR chipsets which left a few creative meta-assembler firmware loopholes open ... he thought. But he had better things to do for the next few hours.
It was late but not unbelievably so and he had a lot of ground to cover in Bellevue before it got suspiciouly late. After compiling the technical data he'd accumulated and the route from the Silver Chip to a single piece of memory and settling that into his datajack, Cortex donned a winter coat and headed out to Bellevue to beat feet and count traffic lights.
John walked passed the rack of ancient, dissembled dataterms to the one he'd cobbled together from spare parts and quickly placed a call to Spinner letting the elusive fixer's voicemail know that he was in the market for electrical and mechanical specs of the GMC Bulldog, Seattle Gridguide Sensors and the standard traffic lights in the area. Anything more specific he was going to have to find himself.
A few matrix searches revealed that the Bulldog was wired on a MegaCAN bus, an Ares creation of the early 2040's which, he was fairly sure, meant any modules would be running on MCT HardWEAR chipsets which left a few creative meta-assembler firmware loopholes open ... he thought. But he had better things to do for the next few hours.
It was late but not unbelievably so and he had a lot of ground to cover in Bellevue before it got suspiciouly late. After compiling the technical data he'd accumulated and the route from the Silver Chip to a single piece of memory and settling that into his datajack, Cortex donned a winter coat and headed out to Bellevue to beat feet and count traffic lights.
Cortex Only
[ Spoiler ]
Cortex returned home in a mixed mood. The route looked good for an ambush; there were two very promising sites where a little hacking would go a long way. However, Spinner was asking for 500 for the requisite technical specs and that was going to hit John hard.
He walked to the cookie which was crammed in the corner of his kitchen which was crammed in the corner of his apartment and opened it to count the scrip inside. 500 in certified and 300 cash ... well, I wasn't going to make rent anyway, John thought as he pulled Spinner's requested funds from his waning savings account. A few minutes later more than half of John's total worth prior to the meeting this eveing was sent flying to the technical sinkhole on the other end of the matrix.
As he sat down heavily contemplating the proper way to stall his suprisingly energetic, aging, orc landlord he felt the advace from the night's meeting in his pocket and grinned. He'd be alive for another month after all.
for the requisite technical specs and that was going to hit John hard. He walked to the cookie which was crammed in the corner of his kitchen which was crammed in the corner of his apartment and opened it to count the scrip inside. 500 in certified and 300 cash ... well, I wasn't going to make rent anyway, John thought as he pulled Spinner's requested funds from his waning savings account. A few minutes later more than half of John's total worth prior to the meeting this eveing was sent flying to the technical sinkhole on the other end of the matrix.
As he sat down heavily contemplating the proper way to stall his suprisingly energetic, aging, orc landlord he felt the advace from the night's meeting in his pocket and grinned. He'd be alive for another month after all.
a blip on John's cellphone tells him that he's recieved the data he's been looking for. As he looks over the information, John can tell that his purchase was well-worth it. The data on the security van, traffic lights and gride guide sensors are down to the nut and bolt, with the data in hand John's confident he could probably build one up, (or more importantly take them apart) blindfolded. Notably the data shows that the GMC's security version is outfitted to prevent access to the rear compartment from the drivers' and front passenger seat. That information would probably come in handy.
Cortex only
Cortex only
[ Spoiler ]
Cortex was thrilled as he burned the documents onto a chip and slotted it in his chipjack. He considered himself armed to the teeth. Now he just needed his team on board. That was usually the hard part because there were always meatbags (usually trolls) who were dead set on wading in guns blazing. However, he had high hopes for this team; he might not even be the smartest man in the room.
He composed a message for Pliskin, Markus and Caitlin:
"Found a few likely sites for our enterprise and equipped to deal with technical issues. Consider the attached locations and inform. Need magical consult to finish technical preparation."
Attaching the information gathered on his walk he proceeded to lay on his bed and read himself to an early, brief sleep.
He composed a message for Pliskin, Markus and Caitlin:
"Found a few likely sites for our enterprise and equipped to deal with technical issues. Consider the attached locations and inform. Need magical consult to finish technical preparation."
Attaching the information gathered on his walk he proceeded to lay on his bed and read himself to an early, brief sleep.
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