Another gunman cries out, digging the shuriken out of his shoulder and cursing as his shots fly wide of their mark.

Charlotte whistles low as the two trolls scoop up their charges and leap out of view through the ragged hole they'd torn into the wall. Wow. Glad we didn't end up on the wrong side of Deray. The rattle of automatic gunfire ends in a flare of pain. Charlotte screams a short yelp of pain. It's not a pretty sound. She hisses, sucking wind over clenched teeth as she tries to maintain her grip on the table, like it's doing something.

<< I'm hit. >> Her voice on the team comms is tight, terse.

Without waiting for Dakota's tongue lashing to get the frag out she drops the table and half-staggers, half-backs out of the hole, arm clenched tightly to her side.

Oh... the truck skids as it slows momentarily, a bunch of hard-eyed men in the back...great. Just fragging great. Well, it's what I get for not hiring local help.

Damnit.

I should pay better attention.

I KNEW I was missing something. All smug, smoking my hooka and making my bulletins. She gritted her teeth and made for the van. It's open side door looked like the welcoming arms of the mother she'd never known.

Cirio gives a low whistle as he uncovers the number of active links in their assailant's PAN. It's definitely time to leave.

Continuing the slow drumming roll of his fingers on the steering wheel, Cirio's thoughts briefly make contact with one of the drones hovering in the sky above him.

It's time to neutralize at least part of their enemy's advantage.

Edit: Mentally responding to Yi he says: "It's getting hot out here. I'll see what I can do about that."

Yi moves quickly, darting from side to side through the maze of tables. Twisting during the sprint she flings two more poisoned shurikens, hoping to make contact with the gunmen that spilled into the doorway. She struggles to suppress the urge to kill every last one of them, especially after seeing Charlotte clipped.

"Keep me informed of the situation outside."

Cries echo from behind the moving masked figure as one of the gunmen in the doorway drops his gun, scrabbling at the jagged star of metal embedded in his thigh.

The smoke grenade lazily spins into the alley before exploding with a *thump* into curling, impenetrable white smoke. Cirio disconnects from the Drone, allowing it to resume its normal programming.

To Yi: "Our friends have a truck on the other side of the bar. If we want to get away easy, then it's time to go now."

He feathers the accelerator, moving the Roadmaster out of the alley.

In the interior of the bar, more bodies topple over as the toxins coursing through their system takes affect, stiffening muscles and freezing normal nervous system reactions.

In the alleyway, the truck at the other end of the alleyway jerks into movement, shouts and the occasional shot accompanying it as the group moves around the building, stymied by the smoke.

A small scrap of plastic comes fluttering to the ground at Yi's feet, looking suspiciously like an antidote patch. Charlotte is scrawled across it in hasty but elegant letters.

Placing one hand on the ground and swinging her feet up over her head, Yi grabs the patch with her free hand as the cartwheel finishes. She runs forward and places the antidote squarely on Charlotte's neck.

"Head's up, the ammo these thugs are using might be dusted with an extra. Anyone else been hit?

Looking and seeing the smoke at the end of the alleyway, she smiles seeing her trust in Cirio was not misplaced.

"Can I get a smoke grenade into the club?"

The smoke grenade fizzles and flashes in a burst of jury-rigged chemical reactions as Dakota tosses the container, already streaming smoke, behind her into the bar.

As the group moves towards the van, a satellite image appears in the upper right hand corners of their vision, the map tinged with a cluster of small red dots in the bar, and a group of them making their way around the building as quickly as possible.

Please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me...

Mickey dips, dives, ducks and dodges as he runs at full throttle for the van. Why was it backing up? The van was getting further away? Probably to keep from being shot...good plan.

Continuing the mantra in his head, the mage pushes his body to its outer limits as he tries to get to the safety of the van and armored steel.

Running, running, running.... so far, so good. So far the enemy had been too busy with the others to hit him. And smoke... he coughed a bit before breaking past the billowing smoke. That should hinder them yet more. Now was when he might wish that his magic was geared more towards physical threats than magical threats. But oh well. If it had been an elemental bearing down on them, he'd be happy the way things were. He'd settle for just booking it to the van.

Behind the exiting group, shouts and gunfire fills the small bar as smoke billows out of the hole. The cry and curse of men fumbling around the tables and chairs while unable to see punctuates the sporadic gunfire that punches holes in the walls.

Around the building, somewhat distant, the screech of tires and revving of the engine follows the tiny indicators on the gps map as the truck hurtles around the building as fast as the driver can make it go.

With a smile as the smoke billows into and out of the building, Yi steps into the van taking cover from any possible arcs of fire from outside now. She quickly looks over the AR overlay, making mental notes of the pockets of hostiles and their movements.

"What's our exit strategy at this point?"

Cirio calmly scans the net for real-time traffic feeds, his foot on the accelerator, waiting for Jeff to enter the van.

"Airport, unless we have another means to leave. Charlotte, do you have a contact there?"

"Did we get the info from Deray? Where do we head from there?"

Mickey takes two deep breaths, lowering his stress levels forcefully. Now that the van was sealed they could leave the mad gunmen behind.

As the last of the team members piles into the van-like SUV, the truck screeches around the far corner of the bar into view, barely making the turn, one man in the back spilling out as the others shout point.

At almost the exact same moment, the Roadmaster smoothly accelerates forward, the amount of force exerted on the sand by the tires precisely calculated to be the maximum without any inefficient slip. The two drones adjust their tilt slightly, to keep station above the vehicle.

Yi quickly sits and straps herself in just in case the ride got a little rough. Looking around the vehicle, she feels the smile building up behind her mask seeing everyone safe and accounted for.

Finally...they had all made it to the van. Looking over the others, he realized that Charlotte had been hit, and an anti-toxin patch had been applied. "Anyone want to try mundane methods before I take the magical route?" he asked. He wanted to help his friend, but knew that if he acted first, it would render mundane methods ineffective.

The van accelerates quickly, weaving through several turns and down the crowded streets. The town was backwoods and small enough that most people still walked or rode bikes, lining the streets with a constant flow of pedestrian traffic.

After each turn, the following truck drops farther and farther behind, despite the gunning engine and the abupt jerks of the wheel the driver was using to corner.

Charlotte is pale and her breathing shallow. She keeps her arm clamped hard to her side and tries not to scratch at the itchy adhesive of the patch. Damn, damn. The driver weaves in and out of traffic, threading through the throngs with wreckless headlong rush of the truly competent.

Though Charlotte's assessment of the driver's skill is less than appreciative at the moment... she's nauseous. It could be the toxin. Or the antidote. The moments after getting shot are weird and echoing in her head... at once very close and all happening at the same time and then suddenly distant, removed. And close again.

She can see and sense worry from the others in their auras which are diving and twisting weirdly.

She squeezes her eyes shut. "Contacts? Of course," she smiles against the pain, tusks, "Code blue called in our driver here and should have already alerted our 'travel agent' that we needed to leave. Soonest."

A crease appears on her brow, "Though I would expected confirmation by now. Or at least acknowledgement of receipt of the Code Blue." She brings up the AR displays on her imagelinked contacts. Hope there's no trouble...

Charlotte's commlink chimes at her right on cue. "They're waiting for us at the hangar." She hisses and hitches herself up to a dubiously more comfortable position. "These are the coordinates." She links the location to Cirio.

Cirio gives the equivilant of a verbal nod as the SUV smoothly takes a corner much, much faster then it should have been able to. The truck skids and flails behind, rounding the corner in a much less graceful fashion.

As the men in the back of the truck open up, the SUV begins to pull away as both vehicles leave the village and switch onto a rough unpaved round that snaked through the jungle. Rounds rattle off of the armored windows and back door as stray rounds from the automatic fire find their mark.

Recklessly careening off trees and bouncing over ruts in the road, the truck steadily gains, rounds clattering off the SUV as the men in the truck continue to spray.

:: As soon as the chase begins, Dakota leans over the rear seats and fishes out the medkit stored in one of the rucksacks. Hauling it over next to Charlotte, she unceremoniously rips the fabric of her shirt and takes a look at the wound. Despite her gruff nature, she treats the area gently before flipping on the medkit. ::

"Hold still..this is gonna sting..."

:: After inputing the condition of the injuring into the onboard system, she uses the information relayed to augment her own instincts on the best way to treat the wound. Luckily, the bullet made a clean exit and there was little need to extract it. Working as carefully as she can despite the radical shifting of the SUV, she tries to patch up their spokesperson as best as she can. ::

"Ciro...try NOT to hit every blasted rut in the road."

:: She didn't mean to be critical, he was the best damn driver she'd worked with, but the continual jolting was only irritating her on top of her anger at the meet turning violent. As she works, she shifts her complaints to quiet muttering. ::

"Why can't things ever be easy..."

Watching Dakota apply first aid to the injured Charlotte, Jeff realized that he probably should get around to taking some courses. Magical healing didn't solve everything. But now wasn't the time, and once Dakota was done, he took his turn. Placing a hand gently on the bandaged area, he hummed softly to himself as he released the healing energies into the injured woman. "Better?" he asked as he sat back.

The SUV bounced around a sharp corner probably designed to be traveled mostly by carts and horses. Behind, a screech and the shout of a dozen or so men was abruptly cut off as the truck tumbled off the road and impacted in a tree. Upon contact, the sound of a series of fully automatic guns firing echoes out of the trees, probably someone tossed around by the impact, and a WHUMP rocks the SUV slightly as the truck explodes into flames.

Twisting turns and thick vegetation quickly swallow up the wreckage, leaving the group driving along in idyllic jungle. A few more hours on the road and the jungle recedes to reveal and small airport at the edge of a larger city. Cirio pulls the SUV onto the tarmac and up near a small Fed Boeing Commuter, a tilt winged aircraft, bearing the Atlantis Foundation logo. Standing next to the loading ramp is a trim dressed older man. Iago handles the routine, day to day operations of your contacts between your group and the foundation.

Slim and dapper, even at his older age, he merely arches an eyebrow as he brushes white gloved fingers lightly across a dent in the side of the vehicle left by a recent bullet. He sniffs, and moves to enter the vehicle as the group piles onboard.

"Meals will be served as soon as we reach cruising altitude. Master Cirio, will you be handling lift off today, or will the auto-Pilot be handling take-off?" The prim English accent never fails to set one in the idea of a proper butler.

:: Making sure all equipment is stored properly, facing their rather capable rigger, Dakota gives quiet instructions. ::

"Ciro, handle the take off, keep an eye out for drone tagalongs."

:: Nodding once to their handler he motions to a set of seats for Charlotte and Iago, taking the opposite side and leaving the last for whoever was curious enough to pay attention. ::

"Lets see whats on this chip. I hope to drek it was worth the effort."

Cirio nods, and slips a pair of sunglasses out of a case before stowing his bags and heading to the cockpit.

"The Atlantean Foundation certainly knows how to fly," he says to no one at all, admiring the avionics suite.

Yi moves around the plane, pausing to clap Cirio on the shoulder. The gesture speaks volumes about her opinion of the driver. She rarely touches anyone except to inflict pain. The team had taken him on on her recommendation and it was nice to see it all work out so well.

Moving to a seat away from the others she sits and begins to remove her mask. Once again the fear and vulnerable feeling floods her with it's removal. Iago seems to materialize from nowhere to take it from her shaking hands. He never looked at her face when it was off and she thanked him in her heart every time he didn't look or make her feel uncomfortable about it. He offers a warm and moist washcloth carrying a light scent of something that smelled clean and fresh. She begins to wipe her face, feeling the scar tissue over her face like a road map. All the bad choices she made where there for anyone to see. Iago takes the washcloth and leaves her to sit in peace.

The trip to the Indian branch of the foundation was only a few hours, but the transformation upon landing was enormous. The rest of India might have been a third world country, but nobody had told the Foundation before they built their office here.

The structures themselves occupy a campus of roughly 20 square acres. Cirio touches down on the private strip, taxing the plane smoothly to a stop in a hanger filled with the latest in maintenance and repair equipment. Iago takes responsibility for your things, and you're shuttled off to the barracks. Each single room in the barracks has a bedroom, a study, a seating area, a private bathroom, and a personal kitchenette. The staff is on call 24-7, of course. Your clothes and equipment arrives aroughly 4 hours after you do, all freshly cleaned and repaired.

The information on the chip is submitted to the data geeks, who pore over it and cross reference with millions of pulses of stored and archived information all over the world.

The team is called to conference a few days after arrival to meet and discuss the specifics. Iago is present, checking for refreshment requests.

Seated at the head of the conference table is one of the 'trix runners the Foundation uses to coallate and collect data. Standing just under 2.3m, the bright green mohawk pushes the orc's height up at least another 6cm. You've briefed with Vip before. Popping some very retro bubble gum, she glances up from a screen in front of her as the group files into the door. It's obvious that she's still playing with something in AR, as she doesn't really focus on any of you until Charlotte and Yi enter. She gives them both a shy smile and flushes, the loud snap of a particularly large bubble seeming to snap her back to some semblance of professionalism. She scrabbles in a pile of paper print outs next to her and pulls out the original chip the group brought in.

She dims the lights with a wave of her hand and throws an image into AR. Standing approximately 2 meters tall over the center of the conference room table is the image of a mask. It appears to be made out of some sort of leather or hide, but an intricate plummage of feathers splay off the edges above the eyes and a fine tracery of what looks like metal glimmers across the surface of the leather mask.

Vip spins the image to give everyone a 360 and begins to speak.

"So, this is the mask-thingy that you guys are looking for. Supposedly it's called The Spirit Mask, and yes, the "The" is specific. According to what we've been able to dig up, it gives the wearer exceptional control and diversity over summoning spirits. None of the info we found indicates that it might allow non-awakened metahumans to use it, however. Most of the information we've been able to find correlates with the date's that are theorized with the end of the last Age where the mana levels were active."

The image of the mask disappears, replaced with a several meter tall blow up of the continent of Africa. A series of dots along the central west coast light up as Vip continues.

"All the reports we give any credability to place it's location here, on the Western coast of Africa. The most recent report, dated in the last Age, was of it changing hands and being taken to a Mosque in the center of Timbuktu."

A small bullseye appears on the map, winking to the party.

"Timbuktu was a center of learning and enlightenment back in the 1300's or so. As I'm sure you're all aware, there were a number of rulers of that area during that time, and nothing else we've been able to recover mentions the mask being moved again. As I'm sure you'll all be pleased to learn, there's almost no information on the exact location of the actual city. Europeans were unable to successfully locate and report back on the city during it's height, with a series of dead explorers to prove it. By the time it was located, the city and country of Mali had fallen to the point where Timbuktu was just mud hovels in a salt trading village. We're suspecting that since it wasn't ransacked by Europeans, the mask may still be in the ruins of the original city. The best location we can give you is here." she says, as the bullseye winks again.

The Board is very anxious to acquire this particular piece, for display purposes, I'm sure." The sarcasm in her tone shares seems to share most people's perspective on the Foundation's reputations.

"Your chip," she says, grinning at Charlotte, "had enough info on it for the Board to assign this project Delta priority, which means they think it exists and they want it bad enough to pay alot for it. You guys should have a fat bonus check showing up in the next couple of days, and you've been authorized to take as much time as you reasonably need to prep for the expedition, along with an extra budget."

"So," she pops the gum again as the lights come up and the visual fades, "That's about it."

"Is there anything else you need?" she says, looking very directly at Yi.

Behind the mask Yi's brow wrinkles with confusion by the attention from Vip till almost comically her face grows warm and a flush creeps up the back of her neck. Once again she finds herself secure behind the protection the mask offers. She waits a moment to see if anyone else speaks then begins to talk.

"Africa is a goldmine of ancient antiquities that people are willing to pay to own. Porto Novo and Sao Tome, particularly, have black markets that specialize in objects pulled from the ruins of ancient civilizations in the mountains and jungles of the central continent so we should be able to pass ourselves off as yet another groups of treasure hunters." She pauses to examine the map and indicates an area on the coast.

"If we decide to go that route - Praia, off the northern coast of Africa, is a prime smuggler haven, known for lax and corrupt officials, a sprawling island town that takes up the majority of the small island, and ready fuel and supplies for anyone that lands there by boat or air, with no questions asked. We would be able to set up a base of operations there with little trouble. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, 60 years of unrest and civil war have done little to stabilize the continent. There is no centralized government, therefore very little international law to be applied. Most countries in Africa maintain very poor extradition alliances with other countries. However, most governments and police forces in Africa have a "respond with overwhelming and violent force, and ask questions afterward" response to anything that appears to be a threat to their authority. So we need to work that that into whatever plans we come up with." She pauses yo make sure everyone has a moment to digest what she's said so far before continuing.

"While there are a couple of mercenary groups the originate in Africa, none of them specialize in working in those regions or making it their business who does. Of important note, Africa is one of the main locations is where the wildly popular Corp Wars show was based. It's well known that several corporations and mercenary groups still have bases and supplies scattered throughout Africa, along with vicious explosive and chemical traps so we need to accomdate for that. That's it for my areas of expertise."

"Well, as we can all see, the majority of the area is relatively flat, arid grassland or desert. The only topographical anamoly is a small and relatively steep mountain nearby, which acts as a source for several of the tributaries that run into the Niger river. Because of this there should be plenty of available space to set down or set up, as Cirio see's fit. The closest major city is 500 miles away, tohugh I'd like to know if any of those corporate deathcamps Yi mentioned are any closer.

"My big problem, is that Africa is one of the largest sources for new and Awakened creatures and plants since this age of magic began. The resurgence in mana has spread hundreds, possibly thousands of new species throughout the veldt and the rainforest that occupy the majority of the continent. That roughly translates into face-eating critters, soul-sucking bats, and awakened guano that makes the welcoming committee seem like a tea-party.

"Those critters of course couple into the fact that Africa has a rich history magically. Aside from being the progenitor of traditions such as voodoo and ancestor worship in North America, a strong tradition of animism runs through the heritage of the ethnic peoples. This tradition has only been strengthened by the resurgence of mana and the active participation of the "spirits" themselves in the worship. Gris gris aplenty and the walking dead, as if the face-eating critters weren't enough.

"I can hold off on the history lesson until people need to be put to sleep. Long story short, the king was rich, he had the mask that we are looking for as recently as 600 years ago, and the ancient city started from a well. Which could easily translate to that little hill amidst all the rolling plains that just happens to have a strong water-supply. Just a thought..."

"Charlotte, Dakota, do either of you have any thoughts about a plan of attack here? I'm seeing us setting down in the rolling plains, where we can see the awakened dinosaurs and tribal cat people charge at us from a distance. From there, we can head towards the big hill."

Throughout his constant flow, Mickey glances to each of the team-members, looking over their latest acquisitions and gear purchases. Taking special note of items which might be swankier than his own, or things that he may have forgotten to pick up from the company outfitters.

:: Dakota chews at her inner cheek as she looks over the target area, trying to pull anything she can from the back of her mind about the area. ::

"I'm definately not looking forward to the critter element. I think before we go we should see what of the more common spirit powers we'll have to deal with and prepare to counter them. Make sure you all have whatever fetishes, or focuses or whatever you need to keep us from losing our souls, or faces for that matter."

"Well, Yi's mask and things like it will be the first line of defense against the face eaters. They will have to eat the mask first, then they will get to our faces."

Mickey's voice is dead calm, but he can't keep the smile off his face as he pulls Dakota's chain.

"Most of the critter powers should be ones that we have seen before. Given the high levels of mythology and animism, it is quite possible that a number of Free Spirits also claim the area, in which case all bets are off regarding the abilities of critters.

"Given several weeks in the library and some assistance from Jeff, I may be able to whip up a conjuration to protect from critters the same way your armor protects you from bullets. I just don't think we have that much time."

He reaches forward to knock on the table in front of Charlotte who seems lost in thought.

"Wakey, wakey boss-lady. What's the plan on this thing?"

Actually finding the fabled city of Timbuktu....something most archeologists only dreamed of. Not just the treasures, but the history behind the relics. Being able to tread where the explorers of the past had paid the ultimate price for the quest for knowledge. Well, it was still a dream, until they actually investigated. And there was still a chance that they wouldn't come back....but gah....no pessimism.

"Hmm....well, I have a barrier that should keep us safe from spirits and other dual natured critters. Unfortunatly it has to be grounded, so not the most useful when we're hiking. And on another thread, if we want a legitimate excuse that doesn't point back here, I should be able to convince the museum to authorize an expedition. Though afterwards they might want me to actually spend time at home for a change."

:: Dakota leans back on the rear two legs of her chair as she folds her arms over her chest. Nodding once at Mickey's suggestion, she turns her attention to Vip. ::

"And how much time does the board suggest we have to locate this thing?"

ViP pops her gum again, eyes drifting off as she accesses AR.

"Well, there's no official timeline from the board. The mask has been there for hundreds of years, probably ain't gonna sprout legs all of a sudden.

Buuuuuuuttt....there's been more traffic then usual about this thing on the 'trix. I'd say there's at least 2 other sources that have been pulling info recently." She looks at Dakota and shrugs.

"Not sure what that means to you guys."

In the SUV

"Thanks, sorry about that." Charlotte's smile moves between Dakota and Jeff. Inside she's kicking herself for endangering the team. TROLL SMASH is not my gig. Leave that to the experts. She looks at the others, they're glancing behind, anxiously, all hoping that they make it to the airport before the irate locals catch up with them.

Charlotte is sitting in a bench that puts her back-to-back with Cirio, facing backwards in the SUV, facing her teammates. They are checking weapons, scanning AR, centering - all in varying states of high-readiness. Cirio is putting distance between them and the hostiles. It's time to recap.

"Anyone know what went wrong back there?"

Dakota rakes the slide back on an automatic pistol, chambering a round, "I didn't lay down and secure a proper perimeter."

Yi's face behind the mask is inscrutable, her aura the same, "You stepped outside your mission objectives."

Charlotte nods, and smiles to herself, a glad coil of confidence welling in her chest - the team's trust is solid - they can call themselves out, and eachother. It's important that they be able to do so. That they can do so while under fire in a rattling SUV is good. She scratches at her side, where the bullet went in, feeling the hole in the hardened fabric, "Yeah. I won't do that again. Rest assured."

"There's more though," she shakes her head, "I should have been able to head all of this off by hiring local body guards. I put you all in danger because I ignored that piece of local business. We almost lost the deal, and put a good contact at risk as well."

The team rolls toward the hangar, free of pursuit. "We'll finish the post mortem on the way to HQ." Inside the hangar there's a small, sleek-looking jet. Beside it is a short flight of stairs leading up to the cabin. Beside that, a familar - and very welcome - figure waits patiently. Iago. Thank God for Iago.


On the plane

"It's good to see you, Iago." She hands him her outer coat and moves to her seat. At Dakota's urging Charolotte produces the chip, slots it, and ties her commlink into the plane's display. A perfect cube of white and black snow appears. "Encryption... Mickey?"

Mickey's face becomes intent, he cocks his head, murmuring in Russian. After a few minutes he shakes his head, "Nothing. The runners at PRHQ will have to crack this."

After the plane is aloft the excruciatingly competent attache makes the rounds with hot towels and cool drinks, everyone's favorite. Even Cirio's. It's his job to know these things. He returns with a tray of refreshments, moving steadily from person to person, "I think you'll find that this plane's facilites are quite complete, should you have need of them."

Jeff grins, "I can take a hint," and shuffles off to the restroom. Charlotte would wait until they landed, even the 'larger' accommodations of this well-appointed plane weren't quite suited for a troll. They'd just have to put up with her for a few hours. She couldn't smell herself any more anyway.

A short way into the flight Charlotte calls the team's attache over, "Iago, could you see to it that our good friend Deray has a nice time at the Resort. A week, I think."

The crew discusses the operation at length, what went wrong, what went right and discusses methods to better plan in the future.

Charlotte crowds into the cockpit to visit with the newest member, "Hey, I wanted to tell you, that was a nice piece of driving back there." She collects herself as compactly as she can into the co-pilot's seat which, once she's in it, is rather comfortable. "How'd you get hooked up with us?"

The two spend a good half-hour talking, Charlotte is something of a pilot herself. She did contract commercial work back before becoming part of AF. She hopes that Cirio will work out better than the last rigger. And the one before that. And before that. The team had had a bad run of luck with riggers. It wasn't anyone's fault really. Cirio's playing things close to his chest, not warming up much, and Charlotte decides not to press too hard too fast. She keeps to shop talk and discussing non-sensitive Atlantean Foundation matters. After a while she heads back into the main cabin.

"Anyone care to play a game of chess?"


Atlantean Foundation Pacific Rim Headquarters

Charlotte marvels once again at the grounds of the PRHQ, well-kept landscaping and a resort atmosphere permeate the agent's quarters. Her room is very simple, but nicely appointed and the bath... the bath is worth every stress and trial of the work. She soaks for a solid hour, stirring only to reheat the water.

For a few days the team unwinds. It doesn't take much convincing to have the more adept of the crew train Charlotte in the fine arts of not getting shot. She's not the best student. slow to react initially, but smooth thereafter. The sense of alertness that she has to maintain is trying, but with time it will become second nature. She hopes.

After one such training session, she returns to her room to find a hand-written summons to a briefing room that, through various inferences and intimations, Charlotte has learned is for Delta level intel. Her eyebrows raise. Delta, eh? Deray's info must have been very good. I wonder where she got it.

Iago, knowing her penchant for sampling local fare, brings her a glass of jal jeera. It is a sweet and salty drink of water, cumin, black salt, mint paste and sugar, which she assures the others is 'quite refreshing.'

Charlotte listens quietly, hands steepled serenely in front of her, watching, listening - ignoring, for the moment, the aura swirlings when Vip looks in her or Yi's direction - letting the information roll over her, the team's assessments. She brings up the map location on her own personal AR browser. Statistical data and information on the region's distant and recent history scrolls up.

Bambara, Arabic, Portuguese... missing anything...? French...

"Wakey, wakey boss-lady. What's the plan on this thing?" Mickey's voice rouses her.

"Right. My apologies. I was scanning the info," she taps her temple indicating that she'd been focusing on an AR display.

"I think we've got a good start on things. I like that Corp Wars angle, Yi. Didn't know you were a fan." She grins, "We'll need a suite of innoculations. We'll need to be in control of our water supply. And we'll also need a satellite uplink. I'll talk to the brass, see if they can hammer out a deal with the Corp Wars folks so that we could - under some other guise, of course, maybe some new series - rent their spaces out. With the goal access to Corp Wars broadcasting facilities, plans of their installations - or at least the known danger zones - and access to the research they did before choosing their location. They should be reasonably good bases."

"I'll have Ingiri make some inquiries into the area's current state. He always turns up good dirt. And he might be able to tell us who else has been looking into The Mask, though I have another angle for that, maybe." Ingiri is one of Charlotte's spiders, a man with connections in every place you can imagine. And plenty you can't. And plenty you wish you hadn't.

"And I'll have Zed put her ear to the ground there in Praia, she'll set us up there there. Cirio, I'll put her in touch with you."

"And last, I'll see if Heron knows anything about Free Spirits in Mali or the surrounding nations." Heron is a good friend of Charlotte's from the ASPS. A Free Spirit who works with the Society. Rumors abound about Charlotte and Heron, ranging from the simply titlating to the the patently unbelievable. Whatever the truth is of their relationship, it is a source of tension between her and upper management, though Heron has provided a useful link into the ASPS for the Foundation and whatever bad blood that may still exist balances out. Charlotte has worked very hard to make sure that her team wasn't affected by any of the fallout. But you never know. Recovering this Spirit Mask - correction: THE Spirit Mask - would be a big feather in all their caps. She tried, inasmuch as possible, to insulate the team from the mind-deadening bureaucracy that ran the Foundation, but inside she dreaded the meetings she knew would come in the following days as she negotiated for resources and allocations. Even with the Delta priority.

"I think we all know how important this acquisition is to the Foundation," her eyes are amused, "So we'll need to plan this operation carefully. Let's break for an hour, think on our own, put out feelers to our contacts and then pick up where we've left off. Iago, can you bring us dinner?"

Iago nods and shifts the timing of the dinner he had already ordered.

Building a list of things in his mind that he forgot to pick up, Mickey heads out of the meeting room in the direction of the company Outfitters. One of the perks of working for the Atlantean Foundation is that they recognized the needs of their excavation teams and always had hard to find camping supplies available. Where else could you pick up a geiger counter and water purification tablets while you tested the latest rapelling gloves and microwire climbing harnesses?

The best part is they never had to convert currencies, because they would automatically debit his paycheck.

A backpack full of stuff, he heads back to his living quarters placing a call to an old professor from his university days.

Rising from the table, Yi makes her way from the conference room to her own quarters. Shutting the door behind her, she takes a moment and lets the nervous energy drain her body body. She was still unprepared for such keen interest in her beyond that of her skills or knowledge. While the fire still burned in her, the constant longing had become livable and she wouldn't cheapen her feelings with a daliance with ViP.

With her feelings back in check, she moves from the door and reaches up to remove her mask. Carefullly placing it on a stand near her work area she sits at the tasteful desk provided by the foundation. With a few thoughts she opens a program and begins to compose a message to her one remaining contact from the time before.

<To: Grandma Spider>

<From: Moonface>

<Please call me as soon as you can I have a few questions you might be able to answer. Thanks.>

She sends the message and makes her way to her bed. Laying down and allowing her body to relax, she waits for the reply.

Mikey

As you dial up McFarlane's number, the faux-cheerful face of the professor fills the view as the pre-recorded message comes across.

"I'm probably out flying in a way that's sure to get my damned fool neck broken," he says merrily with a smile, "but leave a message anyway!"

Yi

A soft chime alerts you to an incoming call. You must have been lucky enough to catch Grandma Spiders immediate attention with your message.

"Jonathan, it's Mickey Klavitsnova. I heard that congratulations are in order on the department chair, or is it my condolences? If you have a chance, can you have one of the grad students forward me any information you might have on archaeological digs in Africa from about 1000 to 1500 CE. I'm off on another mad quest for Timbuktu!"

Ending the call, Mickey grabs a shower to clear his head. Afterwards, he sits at the edge of the bunk running his fingers through his hair and begins to brainstorm a list of gear that he wanted to make sure everyone else had and confirm that he hadn't forgotten anything himself.

Mrowr?

The Russian stetches over to pet the black cat who always seemed to wander the Society common areas.

Charlotte stands and stretches. Still sore. She looks around the table as the others stand and file out of the room. She smiles at the young tech, "How are you, Vip? How you liking this new assignment?"

Her comm chimes before she can get an answer. The AR Aide that appears before her is wearing a jumpsuit in deep AF Blue, his sleeve patches identifying him as issued from the Finance department. She looks at the patches and winces internally. She grins an apology at Vip. "Brass wants to chat. I'll see you back here in an hour - I hope."

The Aide passes a message to her, a request for detailed expense reports from the last six months for she and her team. Some new functionary must have a bug up his ass for dotting i's and crossing t's. Charlotte's team kept good books, thanks to Iago, but for some reason this beaureaucrat wanted to call her to the carpet personally.

Following in the AR Aide's footsteps, Charlotte prepares three messages to the people she'd mentioned in the meeting - Zed, Ingiri and Heron.

---

Zed
Zed, Charlotte here. I'm going to be working in sub-Saharan Africa, Praia's been floated as a good base of operations, but I thought - since you're tapped into these things - I'd see what you thought about it or if you had suggestions for any other locations. Our work is likely to interest other people, so quiet ways to get around would be good to know about. Any ideas there? I know it's not likely, but would you be available yourself?

---

Ingiri
Viral ads plaguing your comm? Want protection? Try CommCorona - you'll love it. Install it today. Never submit to unwanted ads again. Whare you waiting for!?

---

Heron
We need to meet.

---

The Aide stops and derezzes, she's arrived at her destination. Taking a deep breath she puts a hand on the doorknob and turns.

Mickey

Message received, the image flashes you a cheery double thumbs up before it winks out.

Charlotte

As you swing open the door, you're greeted by the sight of not one, but two members of the finance department, and another woman you don't recognize immediately. The two men are both dressed in this years version of a powersuit, angles rounded and shoulders cut to give the wearer a slim, almost serpent-like quality. One is human, male, probably in his early thirties, neatly trimmed blonde hair pulled back from his face. The other is an elven male, who knows how old, dark hair cropped close to his skull with hard eyes. The woman is human, dark skinned, with tightly curled rows of hair close to her head.

The two men scowl as you enter the room, and the woman smiles, white teeth flashing against her darker skin.

"Charlotte," says Daniels, the male elf.

"This is O'Henry, new to the department, " he indicates the other man in the suit at the table next to him, "and Zuramawe, also new to the department." He motions with obvious irritation at the woman several seats away from him.

He motions to a spot at the table approximately opposite them all, and gives you a moment to sit down and compose yourself. The chairs and the table in the room are all "Meta-Human Friendly™".

Yi keeping the surprise from her voice and face, she answers the incoming call.

"Grandmother, I am honored by your swift attaention. I was wondering if you knew of anything happening in the this area...."

With a thought she begins to transmit the data over the connection.

Charlotte picks a neutral chair at the table and leans across to shake the hands of the two new comers, "Good to meet you O'Henry, Zuramawe."

She smiles politely as she braces herself for the contact, waiting for the wash of emotions and memories to flood into her. "Are you both new to the Foundation or just to finance?"

She stands for a moment listening before sitting down in her chosen seat.

Charlotte -

O'Henry's attitude seems to soften immediately, but Daniels simply scowls a little more. Zuramawe gives you a small, knowing smile as she shakes your hand firmly.

Once you're seated, O'Henry flips open several pages on a landscaped ledger and spins the sheets around, pushing it towards you for you to reference. Archaic though the paper is, O'Henry seems to prefer it to sharing information via AR.

"We've just been looking over your latest series of requests...care to explain these?"

Yi -

The spider at the center of the net that is the only visual representation of Grandma Spider you've ever seen hmmms quietly, perusing the information. The mandibles twitch, making a series of soft clicking noises, and the spider seems to draw air before it speaks.

"I would be wary if this is the area you are interested in...the long line of the snake moves through these places, with coils strong and fangs sharp."

Yi suppresses the groan at her cryptic reply. Already the headache of trying to figure it out begins to creep up from her temples. She felt the yearning for the time before, when life was defined by the next job. Each one a clear set goal of stealing said item and then getting paid. She never had to bother with anything more complicated than avoiding the local law enforcement.

"Does this snake have a name?"

As she asks she begins to set up the transfer of funds to Spider, while she was the closest thing Yi had to friend from those days she knew eventually money needed to be exchanged.

Yi

The spider on the screen seems to suppress a smile. Her reply, however, is somewhat less cryptic.

"Yosandra. You would do well to steer wide of her and her clan."

Charlotte cocks her head at the sheet. She picks it up and scans it. This stuff is... She looks between the three sets of eyes, "Uh. Is this some mistake? This is from Q1. 2069. I'm pretty sure this was all approved already."

O'Henry gives a long suffering sigh, glancing over as if for support at Daniels, who almost eagerly nods in sympathy. Neither seem to notice the frosty glare that Zuramawe gives them.

"Yes, yes, of course it was initially approved. We just want to know what you did with them?

This Land-Rover? 40,000 nueyn. Destroyed.

This experimental rapelling harness, 5,000 nuyen. Destroyed.

Over 1,000 rounds of EX-Explosive ammunition of various calibers. Gone."

He points to items as he speaks, rapidly jabbing the page.

"What we want to know is, what the hell are you people doing out there? Waging some kind of personal war?"

He sits back, seemingly satisfied with himself, waiting for her response.