Nic looked out over the city, a slight, wicked smile on his face.

"Do you approve of the view?" The cultured, sibilant voice behind him still made his skin crawl. He never got used to it.

"Yes, absolutely."

"The rewards for faithful service are bountiful. The penalties for failure are...equally so. Be ready for my call."

Nic nodded, a chill sweat on his back that remained even after his employer departed. He glanced around the penthouse one more time before picking up the trid phone.

Places to go, people to kill.

1800 Friday, 05 January 2063

The message LED was blinking when Satu emerged from the shower, causing her to frown briefly. That changed when she read the caller ID. Fox looked exquisite as usual, her hair held up in a bun bya pair of ornate lacquer stix.

"Good evening. I'd hoped to catch you at home but it appears you've already left to partake in whatever debauchery is planned for tonight. Such a life of excess dear, can only lead to heartache. But I have just the thing for you. Word came in today of a fixer putting together a team for a couple of jobs, pretty well paying if my information is accurate. The meet goes down tomorrow night, eight o'clock p.m. sharp. Third floor, northwest corner of the parking garage on West and Eighth. Call me sometime."

Fox blows a kiss and the message ends.

1500 Friday, 05 January 2063

It's Deric's voice on the line when Sedryk reaches the tridphone receiver.

"Hey, omae. What's up? You mentioned last week that you were looking for some supplemental work. Well, something supplemental just came up. Invitation came today from a fixer I know who's putting together a team for a couple of operations, could be very lucrative. Meet goes down tomorrow night at the parking garage on West and Eighth. You know the one, third floor, northwest corner. Let me know how it goes."

0300 Friday, 05 January 2063

"I know you're not home which is why I called. Word just came out today about a fixer putting together a team for a couple of less-than-legal operations. It sounds like they'll be needing someone of your talents. The meet is tomorrow night, 8 p.m. sharp. Northwest corner of the parking garage on West and Eighth. Watch your back, brother."

Jim shakes his head, replaying the message to copy down the location.

He really needs to get over this cloak and dagger drek.

1600 Friday, 05 January 2063

Reign was smiling when he answered the phone, and this worried White. He knew that it only happened during two occasions, and prayed it was the latter. He was right.

"Hey, I'm glad I caught you. Listen, I'm putting together a team to work a couple of jobs that have come my way. I'd like you to be on it, we're going to need your talents. Everyone's meeting tomorrow night at eight, at the usual place, you know. If you can't make it, I'll understand, but I'd like you there. I haven't worked with any of the recruits before, and none of them are familiar with each other. I'd like at least one friendly face in the crowd. See you there."

Sedyrk smiles to himself as he punches the meets location into his pocket secretary. A reminder notice appears in the lower left corner, clicking on it he sees that he and Mellow are going to head to the library, then dinner and then maybe a movie. Just thinking about her brings a smile to his face. Throwing his armored long coat on over jean and a sweater, Sedryk thinks about what this new job might be.

Satu smiles to herself as she thinks of Fox. She climbs into her bed remembering the fun they've had on that very same spot, as she caresses her naked body. Slowly working her way down to her special spot, stimulating it until a warm rush fills her body. She smiles in pleasure as she falls asleep dreaming about Fox.

Day of meet...

Satu slides her short black skirt along her smooth thighs up to her waist. Then slips on her black thong. She stares in the mirror topless admiring her body and pressing her perky beast together and smiling. She slips on her tight white tee-shirt deciding not to wear a bra tonight. She fixes her hair in a ponytail and puts on her shades. Pleased with how she looks she walks to her dresser, opening it up reveiling her twin Ares Preator III's. She assembles the gas vents on them before straping the holsters on her in an "old western movie" fashion. Sliping the extra clips next to the holsters. She slides on her lined coat and grabs her credstik and keys, and out the door to the meet she goes.

White alwayse loved the time before a meet. It was like a calm before the storm. Upon recieving the call, he did what he alwayse did pre-meet. He immediatly went out and saw a movie, followed by eating as large and expensive a dinner as he could afford. Several trips to the hospital had taught him what he missed most when bed-ridden. He even managed to make it home without succumbing to the rage that burned within him. To the entire world, he looked the picture of calm and professionalism. He finished the evening by sitting in his lodge and talking to Jaguar. Everyone had something to keep them grounded.

Approaching the meet

As alwayse White was several hours early. He knew the fixer, but never left anything to chance. By 5 he was sitting in his car in a position where he could observe comings and goings. At seven, having seen nothing, he made a quick sweep of the place, watching for electronics, cameras, explosives, and anything else that could ruin his day. Finishing that, he made sure that his shotgun was sitting in his trunk, loaded, and that the armor carefully concealed as designer clothing covered as much of him as possible. Then, he just sat in his car and waited at the appointed place.

1400 Friday, 05 January 2063

The ridiculous volleyball icon that Wilson uses on his tridmail smiles at Snow.

"Hey, I've got some news for you. A fixer I know is putting together a team for a couple of jobs and your name came up. Not your usual line of work, I know, but it seemed like a good opportunity. No obligation, though, if it doesn't meet your requirements. The meet is going down tomorrow night at 2000, public parking garage at the corner of West and Eighth, third floor, northwest corner. Let me know how it works out."

Jim sat back in his old wicker chair and thought... he had to be careful, he knew that because the way his luck had been recently. Ringing Jack he knew that there would be no answer but didnt really want to talk anyway.... "Hey chummer, just to let you know I have some work on. So its the usual routine, if you get a recording in the next couple of days... you know whats happened!" that last part sent shivers down his spine, he had already died once this year and didnt fancy doing it again!

The next day Jim carryed out his pre-run routine of checking all the signals from his units and adjusting them if needed... Putting on a smart suit and having a shave he felt like a new man, sliding his piece into its holster he looked in the mirror and knew that nobody would be messing with this halfer today! Grabbing the passcard for the car off the bedside table Jim made his way down to the garage and his pride and joy... Strapping himself into the secure sports seats he pulled the cord up to the datajack behind his ear, and in the blink of an eye... he had squealed out of the garage and was heading to the meet.

Three blocks away Jim pulled into an alley knowing that he wouldnt be overlooked here, checking his watch he knew he was three hours early... but preperation never hurt anyone! Still rigged into the car he kept his sensors active, opening the boot he switched to captains chair mode and let his bird fly, Sending it up over the buildings to watch the carpark and the area of the meet.

With that, he started his engine... and headed in....

Evening of the Call

Snow, under his more openly known name, had been at the opera when the message had arrived to his Shadowlands account. He had chosen wisely not to review it on his pocket secretary until the limo ride back to his Bellvue condo. Barry could be trusted to ignore whatever he may overhear, Snow paid him enough on the side to ensure that. The timing could not have been more perfect for such a message, indeed. Bunny Sinclair, his paramour, was on assignment in DeeCee, and he had chosen during that time to remain faithful, though theirs was an open relationship. Open in the sense that they both ignored eachother's extra carricular partners. Still, he had felt a job coming on, call it market sense, and his insctinct had proven right. From the limo's private telecom he called up Robert Winters' regular travel agency, and booked a round trip flight - first class of course - for one to Denver departing the next morning. He then booked himself suitable accomodations for a week. Should the need arise, Mr. Winters could arange further business travel at that point.

Upon arrival to the complex in which Robert Winters' condo was housed, Snow dismissed his driver, giving him the usual indication he would be travelling the next day, sliding him a 100 certified credstick for his services. Barry would show to the complex to pick him up for his flight, and would pick up his ticket at the airport, this was their arangement. He would place a call later that evening to Jett to arrange for the airports' boarding records and his hotel's guestbook, to reflect that he had indeed followed up on his travel arangements.

He greeted the Knight Errant lobby guards with a nod as he passed through, and carded himself into the elevator. The top floor of the complex would have been too assuming for a businessman who's interests were not known to his peers, so Mr. Winters instead resided two floors from the top, nonetheless his view was spectacular. Snow packed for Winters' business, as everything he needed for his true was elsewhere. He then took the elevator to secured tenant parking, to retrieve his Porsche. His departure was noted by Walter, the Knight Errant guard working the gate, only to be prompty forgotten. Snow made a mental note that he still had to secure the man some Seattle Screamers season tickets for the upcoming year.

The route he took to Auburn was quite different to the one advised by GridGuide. It was at the same time quicker, and more confused. Snow never liked to take the same path twice, and especially avoided computer given reccomendations. He parked in his covered space at the apartment complex his bolthole was located at, and when he stepped from his Porsche he was conscious to activate the security system. Woefully, the guards who were supposed to be watching the lot weren't always watching. Their monitors were more apt to be tuned to filth networks. His stop to his apartment was quick, he only was in long enough to retrieve his custom Savalette Guardian, and to stow his suits and ties neatly. He then returned to the Porsche, finding it untouched, which was to be expected as the neiborhood wasn't that bad.

He took his time driving to the parking complex, the sweet strains of the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra calmning him, getting him into the mindset he needed. No longer was he Robert Winters, businessman socialite, he was Jon Snow, The White Rose, a killer of no small reputation. He paid the proper dues to enter the parking garage, and chose a spot on the third level, one that should be in clear line of sight of the meet, he parked the Porsche two spaces away, and went about a walk through of the complex, casing it for possible ambush points, noting stairwells, ramps, and camera placement. He was careful to avoid the later in his walkthrough. When he had run a thorough check, he surruptitiously grabbed up an empty garbage container - having to check three to find an empty one - and placed it artfully across his chosen spot, so as to discourage people from using it for the duration of the day. He was, of course, banking on security being as lazy as it typically was when it came to non-job-threatening matters. That done, he re-entered his Porsche, and returned to his Auburn apartment for a shower, and some sleep.

Day of the Run

As per their arangement, Barry had indeed gone and driven Mr. Winters to the airport, and picked up his ticket for him. Jett was contacted in the morning to see to alterations of airport and hotel records. As an extra touch Snow had ordered Opera tickets in Denver from his pocket secretary just prior to the time Barry was to arrive. Snow himself spent the morning in quiet meditation over more symphonic music. He did another drive by of the parking garage around noon, this time 'slumming' it, in some old clothes, on the bus. After another shower he had retired for some more sleep, and awoke two hours later. For the meet he dressed in his Armante Executive tuxedo, securing his cutom Savalette Guardian under his London Fog Professional long coat. A pair of expensive italian loafers and mirrorshades complete the look.

Having taken a quick diner before dressing, he departs now, but not before re-setting his home security codes. Snow arrives for the run several hours early, moves the trashcan from his chosen spot, and backs into the space with his Porsche. Settling in with symphony on headphones, he leans back in the seat to keep a low profile, and waits for the others to arrive. As he does so, Snow takes the time to update the copy of his will he has saved in his pocket secretary, as he does before every job.

1500 Friday, 05 January 2063

Grey listened as his fixer's electronically distorted voice played over the line.

"Good news. Word's out on that a team is getting together to work a couple of runs for a fixer I know. They'll be looking for someone with your talents. The meet is tomorrow if you're interested, eight p.m. Third floor of the parking garage on West and Eighth, northwest corner. Let me know how things go."

Day of the meet

Sedryk rolls over and sees the soft green glow of 9:45. Smiling to himself as he throws on his sweats and head down the hall to the kitchen to make breakfast. Over the simmer of the an ork sized omlet, Sedryk flips through the channels hoping to catch sportscenter.
Shortly after seeing that the Oakland Raiders were going to be in the AFC title game, Mellow stumbled into the living room colasped on the couch. With her sneaky grin she glanced between his face and the omlet on his lap.
"Breakfast?" he asked as he passed her the plate and went back to the kitchen to fix another.
"So are you going to that meet tonight?" asked the eleven year old who had taken up the warm spot on the couch.
"Yeah, you going to stay over at Cassies tonight?" asked Sedryk as he diced fresh mushrooms for his second omlet.
"MMMMummmm" came the reply as Mellow flipped through channels like a strobe light.
"Pick something and watch it." grumbled Sedryk over his shoulder.

One hour before the meet

"Bye kid" Sedryk kissed Mellow's forehead as he headed back toward the elevator and back up to his apartment.
After a shave and a shower, he sliped on his form fitting body armor, dress shirt, his shoulder holster, and a nice suit with tie. Taking a minute, he broke down and checked the Desert Eagle .50 and each of the 4 clips he would be carrying for it. Once completed, he slipped his Walther P99 into a concealed ankle holster and zipped up his combat boots.
The BMW Blitzen had been a payment for a job he'd pulled almost nine years ago, but the widow of his mark didnt want it so she sold it to him for 500 nuyen. Over the years he'd maintaned its health and beauty. As he raced to the meet he wondered how many other would already be there waiting. Upon arriving at the garage, he paid the toll and went to the location, taking notice of the other car that seemed to be sitting by themselves.

An hour before the meet...

Satu pops a wheelie on her Suzuki Aurora coming down the West street towards the parking garage. She scans around the area surronding the parking garage as she turns down Eighth street. Once she believes everything is good to go she flips a b*tch and enters the garage flashing her plump breast at the toll man instead of paying. She creeps around the parking garage until she notices the Porsche which stands out from the rest of the cars. She drives by checking out the driver sitting back listening to his headphones. She smiles at him and winks as she backs her bike into a spot a few spaces away from him.

1500 Friday, 05 January 2063

Jon's voice on the other end of the line brings a smile to Iso's face as usual.

"Hey lady, how are things going? Keeping out of trouble, I hope. Well, good news, I found something that's definitely going to be trouble. Of the paying kind. A fixer I know is putting together a team for a couple of jobs. Naturally these jobs are the kind that require someone of your talents. The meet's tomorrow night at eight p.m., parking garage on West and Eighth, third floor, northwest corner. Watch your back, kiddo."

1505 Friday, 05 January 2063

Iso grinned at the thought of a job offer on her birthday. She threw on her armored clothing, followed by her longcoat. Never knew when it's going to rain. It is Seattle, after all.

She quickly hopped on her Aurora and revved the engine a few times before screaming off towards the meeting spot.

Upon arrival, she quickly scoped the area out, hoping to find what kind of area it was, who's who, what's what, and who's got what. Next, she checked for any good areas for hiding, as well as any good openings into the buildilng.

1502 Friday, 05 January 2063

Grey pulls on his form fitting suit and his secure clothing and long coat. He checks his pistols and slides them into their concealed holsters. Walking down to the parking structure of the apartment complex, he hops onto his Aurora, plugs in the datajack, and speeds away into the night.

An hour later

Grey pulls over and parks the bike in a back alley, maybe two blocks from the meet point. Slipping through the shadows, he approaches, taking notes of every detail in his surroundings. He checks the building over, making sure to find a few spots that he could find cover if things go bad and checking for any escape routes. He knows he is being overly cautious, but then again, thats why he is still alive today. Satisfied, he heads back to his bike, and makes for a bar he knows near by that a few acutances hang out at. Its good to relax a little before you have to work...

1930 Saturday, 06 January 2063

The parking garage is automatic in all functions, lacking even a noticeable security presence beyond the cameras covering the entrance and each level. Moderately full even at this hour of the night, vehicles line each wall like silent sentries. The structure itself is an eighty meter square block of concrete, open on the sides to the chill Seattle air. Each floor is four and a half meters tall, with the very top level exposed. Along the northwest corner and the southeast corner are stairways that run the height of the building, two flights of stairs per level.

Under the watchful eyes of the team, a solitary black Eurocar Westwind 2000 enters the garage and navigates its way to the third floor, parking illegally in the handicapped spot outside the stairway in the northwest corner. Two women get out.

The first is an exquisite blonde, dressed in a Vashon Island pants suit that seems tailored to her trim figure. What appears to be a real leather trench coat brushes the cold concrete floor as she glances around. A star shaped pendant hangs low around her neck, the intricate design worked at its center sparking reflections in the dim light.

The second figure is taller and more athletic, dark curly hair falling in an unruly mane past her shoulders. She is intense and brooding, the barrel of a submachinegun protruding from beneath her long coat as she scans the area methodically.

The blonde checks her watch, then straightens her coat with an unhappy gesture, turning with an unspoken question to her companion. The dark haired woman shrugs, still tense.

"This is what you wanted, Reign, let's hope things don't get out of hand."

Satu scans around as she hops off her bike and walks over towards the two women smiling at the cuter one. She stays far enough away that they can't touch her without making an extreme effort. She speaks in her Swedish accent.

"Hoi chummers, I heard you might have some work for me?"

Realising that this meet is starting, Jim takes one last look through his drone at the area...seeing that nothing out of the ordinary, he opens the door and climbs out of his sports car. Walking slowly over to the women he feels better for having put a suit on and tries to look as calm and casual as possible. Getting closer he takes a quick glance at the bike and its owner, and feels he should try to maintain a professional appearance.

"Good evening ladies, my name is Jim...better known as Ghost."

And with that, he leaves it to them to make the next move.

Grey glances around, trying to gauge the mood of everyone present, then nods to the two new arivals. He doesn't bother speaking, he just waits for them to get things going.

Iso parks her bike relatively close to the gathering group and hops off. She takes off her coat and walks casually to the group, both hands in her pockets.

"Ho there, chummers. I was told I was being seeked for some employment. How can I help you?"

With that, she waits for the two women to respond, patiently, and hopeful that this one will be as interesting as the last.

wrong account

Sorry about the above, logging on a friends machine.

Sedryk lights a thin black cigarette as he walks toward the two women. "Evening ladies, and gentlemen." He then stands quietly working the lighter between the fingers of his left hand.

This should be interesting

White simply nods in the direction of Reign. There's no need for introductions here.

Snow waited the course of a performance piece before thumbing off his music, and as the others gathered, he took the headphones from his ears and stowed them. There was no hurry on his part, he was making observations.

Of the two women who would seem to be escorting his contact this eve, he made a few educated guesses.

The one with the penant could be trouble, if in fact the penant were (as he suspected) a foci. While he abhored the use of magic on principle, he knew it could be a potent tool. He would be mindful of this one.

The one with the submachinegun, is most obviously, muscle. Though in what form he could not immediatly tell. He took a moment to look her over for signs of cyberware, another useful tool, one he distanced himself from as much as magic. He also took a moment to try and determine the type of firepower she was packing exactly, it is always best to know these things.

While he makes his observations, and without looking, Snow removes his custom Savalette Guardian from its holster under his suit jacket. He removes the clip, eyes flitting down to check that the load is full, and he looks back to the beginnings of the gathering as he re-loads and cocks the pistol.

Another long look down the ramp, and the van parked there. Perhaps he should have brought some more firepower, but no, that would not do at all. He believed there to be a certain protocol to follow on a first meeting, and he was nothing if not an observer of protocol.

Confident that those outside have waited just long enough, Snow re-holsters his pistol, adjusts his tie, and re-dons his mirrorshades. He steps from the car now, silently closing the door, and approaches the group. As he does so, he activates the Posrche's alarm system. One can never be too careful. He says nothing as he approaches, merely nodding to Reign having noted White do the same. This, no doubt, was his contact.

Reign smiles, her manner shifting instantly to one of confidence and control.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for answering my invitation so promptly, all of you come highly recommended. I know none of you have worked together in the past, but I don't view that as a detriment. Rather I think it allows a team to approach a problem with a unique vantage point. Which is something that the jobs at hand require.

First of which is a simple theft and recovery. For several months now, Bicson Biomedical Services has been in negotiations with both Doc Wagon and Crash Cart to supply them with the revolutionary VITAS treatment Prolaxene. Both of the emergency medical services are in desperate need of the treatment, but Bicson has been holding out for a fifteen percent increase in their contract rates. My employer feels that it is unethical for Bicson to withold the treatment during the contract negotiations, and wishes to teach them a lesson."

Reaching into her coat, Reign withdraws a single sheet of flimsy; an overhead surveillance shot of a warehouse.

"This is Bicson's Tacoma supply depot, repository for their medical supplies to the entire southern area of the metroplex. That's where the Prolaxene is being stored. My employer offers five thousand nuyen each to participate in the recovery of two canisters of the compound. Each canister measures fifty five centimeters tall by twenty five centimeters in diameter. Do not, under any circumstances, open them; they're hermetically sealed and contain their own inert atmosphere to preserve the chemicals inside. My employer has specified the delivery of only those two canisters, although if you wish to 'recover' any other supplies that's up to you."

"Now, before I go any further, I'm sure you have some questions for me."

Iso leaned forward as she pushed a button inside of one of her front pockets, then took a look at the image. She whistled at the compound and grinned as she spoke those final words: ...'recover' any other supplies...

"What kind of security we expecting here? Average Joe Schmoe running cameras or some actual security being ran from a remote location? Anything nasty that we all should know of before decided to, say, hop in a window or something?"

She leaned back to let the others have a looksee for themselves. She quickly made a few notes in her pocket secretary, then slid it back in her rear pant pocket.

Jim stands and says nothing for now... knowing that if this group were as professional as they looked then they should be able to ask all the appropriate questions. When Jim takes a look at the overhead shot, he tries to take mental notes of the entrances, any tell tail signs of particular sorts of secuirty, and also any drone tracks if the image is good enough.

"Bicson depends heavily upon Lone Star patrols in the area for the lion's share of their security. That being said, though, the warehouse doesn't promise to be a cake walk. You'll notice the double perimeter fenceline as well as the floodlights and camera installations on the warehouse itself. Bicson maintains six personnel on site at all times, with shift change at 0800 and 2000. For the most part, security is defensive in nature, focussed on keeping people out. Access controls on the gates as well as the warehouse entrances are extensive and all under camera surveillance. Once inside the perimeter, though, there is little in the way of security measures."

Reign shrugs at the last, her eyes on the team.

"Mmk... Next question! What kind of stuff do they use to let people in? Just a guy sitting behind a desk with a microphone and a camera, or some sort of maglock slash passkey thing?"

More notes were taken as she mentally reviewed everything that was said, making sure to jot down the shift changes, especially.

Satu shakes her head as she realizes this is not her cup of tea. Normally she would jump on this in every sense of the word, but something inside tells her to walk away. She starts walking away without saying a word to anybody, she simply turns her head and says "I'm out." She continues to her bike, starts it up and quickly and quietly leaves; trying to forget everything she can about this evening.

Taking a moment to shake his head at the sexpot that just left, White turns his attention back to Reign. "Who owns them?" After a considered pause, he adds, "And do they have their own in house services, like maintinance and whatnot, or do they contract out?"

Sedryk shakes his head at the job.

This wil need alot more finess then what I usually do. I better keep my mouth shut for now.

Slowly he pulls his pocket secretary from inside his long coat and begins writing notes of people to contact.

Reign frowns briefly at Satu's departure, flicking her hand at Trance, who nods minutely. Turning her attention back to the team, she sets her shoulders again.

"Bicson is owned by Cross Applied Technologies. They don't maintain in-house support services, but place job orders utilizing a corporate contractor when required. As for their access controls, I don't have precise information, but my guess is they utilize a two part passkey and keypad access control."

"I have a few quick questions, what kind of deadline are we looking at here? How much do each of these canisters weigh? And, how do we contact you once we have them?"

"No deadline per say, but the quicker it is accomplished, the more damaging it will be to Bicson. Each canister weighs seventeen kilograms. This OMC contains all the information I've briefed you on, as well as my LTG number. You can reach me there once you've completed your mission."

Reign passes over an unmarked black OMC.

Iso rubbed her hands vigorously, hearing the news of what the only security may be.

"Goodie! This sounds much more exciting than I originally thought!"

She crossed her arms for a moment, then put one finger to her lips, pursing them in thought.

Now, how to go about it as quickly as possible, and still finding some very good things in the building while I'm there... Maybe...

She glanced around the group of runners being hired to try to judge a few of them right off the bat, looking, and hoping, for a strong one willing to lug a few things around for her once she helped get them in.

Knowing from bitter experiance that appearances can be deceptive Jim frowns and wonders what they have inside the building... but then also wonders what the total payoff could be if they manage to get away with a fair amount stuff, what they need to do is work as a team... get in, fill a truck up... and get out ASAP. Switching to the Condor briefly... Jim watches where the chic on the bike went, seeing if anything suspect was going on.

Knowing from bitter experiance that appearances can be deceptive Jim frowns and wonders what they have inside the building... but then also wonders what the total payoff could be if they manage to get away with a fair amount stuff, what they need to do is work as a team... get in, fill a truck up... and get out ASAP. Switching to the Condor briefly... Jim watches where the chic on the bike went, seeing if anything suspect was going on.

(Nevermind)

Grey turns to White and nods to his question about in-house stuff. The ork smiles, "A good thought. Maybe we could slip in under that guise".

He glances around at those gathered, "We got a decker here? If not I know a guy, but that means cutting him in. We'll need someone to hack in and make some records for the company to get a visit."

Grey turns back to Reign "and uhh... what other kinds of goods could we expect to find inside this place?"

Iso twisted her mouth into a frown, then spoke quietly.

"Who needs deckers? You just need somebody with the right... ...tools. The only problems might be the guards, but they usually aren't too bright anyways."

She cracked her neck audibly, then placed one hand on her hip.

After hearing Grey's question, she perked up immediately, very interested on hearing what actually is inside besides the containers.

Reign smiles.

"The warehouse is used to store expendable medical supplies, mostly antiseptics and analgesics, bandages, and other chemical agents."

"Expendable medical supplies? Oh, goodie."

Iso inwardly smiled. She could give Jenna a hand with this little tidbit. Just need to convince a few of the group members it'll be worth their time to help her help Jenna...

Well, a Street Doc is always needed... Maybe the fact alone that, if they help me, Jenna will help them out when they're in a tight fix is enough... Of course, maybe not...

"Reign," White cuts in, "I think we have a deal."

Turning to everyone present, "I think, assuming no one objects, that we should all retire to a more comfortable venue, get to know one another, and plan our venture.... as long as no one objects."

In responce to Greys comment, Jim looks up...

"There may be no need for a Decker, if their security is as standard as it sounds, then it will be relaying information via the airwaves which means that I can hack in from a distance and simply open the doors for you if thats what you want."

Then, feeling the need to introduce himself formally to the people that werent here earlier... "By the way,my name is Ghost and im a security rigger by trade and have been most of my life. If you get me close enough I can hopefully get the building under our control, delaying any calls that could be made to Lonestar... This means all you would have to do is deal with security guards.

At the mention of moving elsewhere, Jim nods in agreement with White. "Anyone got any ideas for somewhere to go where we wont be listened in on?"

Iso smiled. Somebody listening in? Let them try...

"Well, if we must, I either suggest a place to eat where nobody will pay attention to us, or a large building where... You guessed it, nobody will pay attention to us."

To tell, or not to tell... They may not need a professional thief, but I've got the toys that'll get them inside without breaking the doors down. Oh, why the frag not?

"Well, while we're doing introductions, I might as well. Name's Iso. You could say I'm good at getting in places and getting out without raising much of a fuss. I can tell this little job will be exactly what I'm needed for..."

Grey nods. "I know a place where we can get a backroom and have a bite to eat. How about we head that way, you guys can follow me there. Oh, and my name is Grey. I shoot, I fight, I sneak, and I talk. Lets go."

You can't help but realize just how well spoken and and attractive Grey is, expecially for an orc. In fact... this is likey the guy that has had his name floating around town, he has a great rep. (ooc: Good Rep 2)

Snow had listened calmly the whole time. Merely taking things in. In this skin, he was a man of few words, he preferred action, as his reputation bespoke. He was for the finesse job, and indeed agreed a Decker would be unneeded, as his nod would indicate. He held no faith in the foolish digitally addicted; those who sold their sole to the machine, allowed it to touch their minds.

He piqued a brow when it was pointed out they were being listened to, a tiny gesture. This was indeed a good thing, that someone else had taken the time to pay attention to their surroundings.

`I'll be one moment,` he informed those gathered. `I believe I spotted a washroom on the ground floor.`

That said, he headed from the group, towards the nearest pedestrian stairwell. Once there, and clear from sight, he removed the pistol from his suit jacket. He would head to the next level, his course, the van, through as unobtrusive yet quick a path as possible. He'd done his advance scouting for exactly this reason.