Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 8/14/70 20:26:50

Several times since heading for the flophouse, Naguel's heads-up display had flashed him video captures of individuals entering LHD. All, however, had beem exactly the sort of people he had expected - nothing that caught his attention, though it appeared that a fair number were armed to some degree or another.

The streets were wet from a recent shower, and the streetlights formed shiny pools of reflection that carpeted his path. He saw occasional groups of men, some laughing, some quiet. Most were coming from or going to the same place he was.

It was not a large building, but not exactly small. It appeared sturdy enough, if in no way extravagant or even bestowed with any sort of aesthetic whatsoever. Not even a sign proclaiming its purpose.

As he approached, he heard from Sophie. In her usual demeanor - business professionalism tinted with the suggestion of adoration - she efficiently reeled off a list of tasks accomplished: message delivered, maps of locus and surroundings acquired for Y78, datatrail spoofed, and message received from Mr. Chu The latter: <<I am acquainted with several. I will be in my office for some time. When can I expect you?>>.

He could hear the music from outside. A raucous country-rock fusion that reeked of the CAS. Pushing open the front door, he saw that there was no apparent security of any sort. Before him lay a generous expanse of tables and a robust peppering of metahumanity. Orks and humans for the most part, but there was no shortage of trolls - certainly more than the Metroplex per capita average. He was surprised to see so few dwarves, but then most of them would probably be in management.

There was no doubt that the place could be accurately called - as his handler had - a seedy dive. Smoke billowed everywhere, men shouted, women screamed. The floor was a little slick. To amuse himself, he briefly scanned the room for anyone he thought might have finished high school, but soon tired of such thankless sport.

And yet unlike many disreputable watering holes he'd had the misfortune of venturing to in less productive parts of this city, here it was obvious, at least, that the patrons had some money. Most were likely well employed, and he spotted plenty of middle-class labels on the beer bottles that covered the tables. At one end of the room to his left a nude ork gyrated behind chicken wire, which meant the place earned enough to pay her something. And while not clean, he would not quite call the place filthy.

To his right, there was a bar, behind which were doors to storage and an office. Beyond the bar were some billiards tables, Virtua-Pods ©, and a couple of bathroom doors. There were also a couple of doors over on the left end, as well. Referring to his map, he knew that one was to what was probably a "dressing" room for the entertainment, and the other was an emergency exit, though it was unmarked.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 8/14/70 20:30:30

Surveying the semi-washed masses, Naguel sat himself down in a booth, back to the wall, where he could watch both exits at once. Naguel's crossed every face, seeing if he was present.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:27:21] Thank you, Sophie. You have done an outstanding job, as usual.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:27:22] You are welcome, Mr. Basurto, and thank you. Will you be needing anything else at the moment?>>

As he communicated silently with Sophie, Naguel signaled for a bottle of beer, which he opened, but left sitting in front of him.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:27:27] Just encrypt and forward the following reply to Mr. Chu, please Sophie. That will be all I require of you for the moment.>>

<<Brazil @ Mr. Chu [8/14/70 20:27:37] I may be expected to arrive at 21:30. Should difficulties arise, and my arrival be delayed, I will inform you by 21:00. Thank you.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:27:50] Message encrypted and delivered. Shall I notify you when a response is received and decrypted, Mr. Basurto?>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:27:56] Yes please, Sophie. That will be all for now.>>

Naguel sat in a comfortable silence for a few minuets. He let his eyes wander the room, careful not to make any aggressive eye contact or stare. He relaxed and listened to the music. Took a sip of the beer. Sighed.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:29:37] I do not like it here, Sophie. I do not dislike it- I find myself rather indifferent.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:29:39] is that significant, Mr. Basurto?>>

A twitch of a smile was permitted to touch Naguel's lips.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:29:45] Of course it is Sophie. He likes it here. He returns frequently. But I do not know what Good he finds here. Remember Aristotle; all of men's activities aim at some Good. He gets something from this place. Some Good, which he does not find elsewhere. I want to know what that Good is. In understanding his Good, even in part, and I can assure you this place is certainly only a partial Good, I get an insight into the underlying principle behind his activities. And if I am indifferent to this place, then I cannot understand it's Good.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:30:03] That sounds frustrating, Mr. Basurto. What will you do?>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:30:07] I will sit here until I need to meet with Mr. Chu, trying to understand the Good in this place.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:30:09] How do you know there is good in this place?>>

At that, Naguel had to smile.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [8/14/70 20:30:14] All things, to some extent, participate in the Good, qua they exist.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [8/14/70 20:30:16] I see, Mr. Basurto.>>

<SPOT@ Sophie [8/14/70 20:30:20] No, Sophie, I don't think you do, but I don't expect you to. That will be all for now, Sophie. I must contemplate.>>

Naguel took another sip of beer.

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius Clinic
Monday 8/15/70 20:06:50

His boots eating the concrete of the street at a rapid pace, Conall made straight for his bike without giving the two thugs outside even a single look. He knew very well that Carla was the one calling the shots concerning the operation as a whole. Anything she decided, he was bound by his words to go along with it, no matter how much he disagreed. But he couldn't help himself but feel terribly insulted by the presence of St. Pierre and his men. The two dives weren't that far from one another that he couldn't move to each of them within a few minutes. They didn't actually need any extra pairs of eyes.... at least, not that kind. But what had rubbed the young elf the wrong way was the fact that, although Carla hadn't said anything straight out, St. Pierre and his thugs were there because she didn't think he could handle EJ alone. Now that had stabbed at his core. It had made him angry than he had ever been since setting foot in Seattle. Some ghetto street doc had brought in trog thugs to “help him�.

Reaching his bike, Etain still in tow, Conall wasn't even feeling her drug high anymore. His own pride had been blatantly dragged in the dirt and just forgetting about the whole affair would take a lot of time. If EJ showed his face tonight, the young shaman was making it a personal affair to get his hands on him, all by himself.

Letting go of Etain's hand for a brief moment, he pulled his transceiver unit out of his jacket, inserted the small earpieces and attached the throat mike just under his collar. He clicked his commlink on, tapping the transmit button twice as he had been taught to make sure everything was working properly.

Raising his eyes from his side to Etain, he looked into eyes that seemed so much like his own.
Suddenly, all the anger and rage he had been feeling dwindled away when he saw those big eyes looking at him. Her pupils were painfully too dilated. The faint smile that danced constantly on her face was simply too ethereal to be normal. The wind was blowing gently with a cool breeze, and she didn't even shiver one bit. Conall swallowed painfully. He loved his sister. He loved her more than anything else. But he wasn't a fool. She wasn't the same anymore... This place... This ill city was starting to infect her.

Without a single world, Conall pulled her toward him by the waist, wrapping one arm around and resting his head on her shoulder. There were a million things he wanted to say. A million things he wanted to do. He wanted to get on his bike with her and drive off. Drive until there was no more road. Drive far far away from it all. But he couldn't. He had given his word to Carla that he would do everything in his power to get Esmeralda back... whether she was still alive or not. His duty was here.

Hearing the shuffle of feet and voices not so far off in the distance, Conall rapidly released his embrace, pulling his helmet firmly on his head, and getting unto his bike. He kicked the legstand off just as Etain was wrapping her arms around his waist. The throttle was flung at full speed, and like a steed being kicked in the side, the bike launched forward as fast as it could. With his commlink on and linked to Krait's, Conall knew he could be easily followed, no matter how fast or agile the bike was.

Coming to a stop light, Conall thumbed his commlink, transmitting to both Carla and Krait.

"Three to all: General SOP remains the same. One Two Three Four with our man being Target. The three others are Backup One, Backup Two, Backup Three. Approach is stealth unless we're compromised. If you know that Target is aware of our presence, call Compromise twice. If you only think he is, call it once. Dirty Dick is Site One. Humpty Dumps is Site Two. State you understood.�

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius Clinic, the Barrio near Sea-Tac International Airport, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Thursday 08/14/70 20:07:00
Krait – Moving to the Docks
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

With nimble fingers, the lifelong desk-jockey picked up the medium sized semiautomatic pistol. Scratchy black, gray vaux-pear handle, Colt America L 36 engravement worn smothe by countless fingers running over it. Piecing together the motions from what he had seen uncounted times in Kob Parker´s hands, and a few times in his own -even though only controlled by his skillwires´ programming- he went through the routine of checking the weapon.

Krait: "I´ll take this one, would be cool if you could keep the AK close by, just in case. Extra clips?"

While he spoke, he had to concentrate hard to handle the firearm, but his agile hands made the procedure look as though he had done it a hundred times. He cocked the gun two times and snatched the bullets out of the air, ejected the clip, counted the ammo, relaxed the hammer, emptied the chamber and reloaded the two bullets into the clip. Then he made sure the safety was working, before he fliped it off and pulled the trigger twice. Pulling back the slide into the locked position, he inserted the clip again. As Georges indicated a box of lose spare ammo of different types and calibers with no additional clips, the technitian picked out one that looked exactly like the ones loaded into the gun and placed it in the chamber, before he released the slide and shoved the gun into the back of his slacks. He answered to Paddy´s call instantly, with a short and simple Check!

After they had climbed into the cramped interior and got moving, he checked the stubby kalaschnikov as well, befor ehe handed the automatic weapon back to St. Pierre.

Once they had cleared the barrio´s confines, he kicked up his custom-comlinks signal range and connected to a fare off public wifi router near the airport and started a datasearch, instructing his agent to find everything on their target, while he allready planed it´s next tasks to check for the two dives.

Entering downtown Seattle dockyards
Thursday 08/14/70 20:36:00

Riding on the floor in the back of the ancient vehicle, Carla felt a soft spot under her. Shifting her weight to examine it, she gingerly lifted a rubber mat and found that it covered a large hole through which she could see the blurred movement of asphalt whizzing by beneath her as the van coughed, wheezed and sputtered up I-5.

Redirecting her attention to her new companions, the most obvious was certainly the troll, looming above her in an old, cut-down sofa that now seemed like a twisted version of a sedan chair for some noble king of a mythical ogre kingdom. He wore cowboy boots that did not match loose-fitting trousers of some light fabric. Above that was a leather vest, unadorned, that left most of his chest and arms exposed. The latter were generously covered in the dermal deposits characteristic to his race, but if his abdomen was similarly blessed it was impossible to see under the thick carpet of curly hair. Looking at his face, she imagined that he might be considered attractive by some - the features were even under the calcified masses that did not spare his visage. His horns were short and almost straight - one couldn't help but think of a devil.

In the front, it was somewhat disquieting to see that the barely pubescent Padre was doing the driving. He leaned liberally on the horn as he chugged the ramshackle ride through and around traffic. He wore a heavy leather jacket that was far too big for him, doubtless stolen or looted from someone who no longer could hold onto it. His face was smooth - the skin of a child - except for several long unruly hairs making their way gloriously out of his chin. She had often seen him stroking them, as if coaxing them to grow faster. But however young he looked - and however sweet he was around the Fathers - his mouth told a different story. Although he and Bandito spoke in a rapid-fire gutter Spanish that she had trouble with despite all her recent practice, she could make out the generally misogynistic tone of their conversation - plenty of references to putting girls to work at the only thing they were good for, and what they did to those that refused.

For his part, the Bandito was busy. The weapon Carla had never seen him carry was somehow now in his hands - a huge, ugly-looking cannon of a pistol - and he savored slipping slugs out of his bandolier and into its magazine. Under the ammunition belts that crossed his chest was a scarlet red shirt that had seen better days, neatly tucked into faded jeans.

Of course Frank was also there, but he was busy with something online.

Once he had entered the two street names - EJ and Evil - along with some captures from their video footage and the names of the bars, the erstwhile lawyer and his faithful agent had managed to learn a number of things. The first and possibly most important was that it was clear this individual paid someone talented to keep him off the Matrix. Numerous references led to unresponsive commcodes and defunct nodes. But no one could catch everything. It appeared the EJ was for Evil Jones, and that he was a professional shadowrunner. Far from a high-priced player, he nonetheless was considered effective and reliable. All his facework was apparently handled by his girlfriend, who called herself Vanity. There were no images available, but by reading between the lines of fragments of conversations, Krait guessed she was human, and of some non-white ethnicity. Interesting since the woman in their video had appeared caucasian.

He immediately launched a search on her, but found her Matrix footprint even more elusive than her man's.

Turning then to the two locations in question - Dirty Dick's Fine Food & Spirits and Humpty's Dump - the task was more of sifting than finding. Both locations were more or less publicly listed and well known among a certain class of people. It was easy to find registered ownership, liquor license info, and location - although translating the latter from AR to reality might be a navigational exercise. Both clearly catered to dockworkers, and both were seedy enough to attract less gainfully employed clientele, although it was clear that Dirty Dick's was the more unsavory of the two, at least by reputation. Dirty Dick's was also apparently little more than a shack, while Humpty's was more of a full-blown drinking establishment. And discussions of some of the more notorious regulars both led to conspicuous blank spots in the data that may very well have been their quarry. It seemed likely that the twins' info was good.

By the time he finished his work (as if it was ever really finished!), the bike and van were entering the waterfront district between downtown and Alki Beach. It was now time to decide exactly how they would proceed.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:00

Naguel had been watching the people in this place for a quarter hour, and was starting to see patterns, focal points of potential interest, although there were no high probability contacts. One table was clearly occupied by a group of criminals - they tried to blend with their clothes and speech, but their wary demeanor, measured drinking, and telltale signs of enhancements marked them as players. Still, he saw nothing among them that matched any of his search parameters. There a were also any number of individuals that stood out from the crowd, commanding a certain percentage of his attention: an African-American woman with close-cropped curls drinking her rough-hewn male companions under the table, herself getting soused in the process; a troll beating two men into the ground and attracting no particular interest from those around him; a human woman of above-average looks dancing on the bar, threatening to remove her shirt, upstaging the tusked woman behind the chicken wire. And of course he was watching the orks in the place, filtering their conversations for names. But he hadn't yet come up with what he was listening for.

As always he had to weigh the relative advantages of acting precipitously or biding his time.

Sanctuary of St. Ignatius Clinic, the Barrio near Sea-Tac International Airport, Seattle, Sea-Tac
Thursday 08/14/70 20:36:30
Krait – Moving to the Docks
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

While he sifted through the information his agent had accumulated, John stared out of the window, occasionally casting a lock out for potential tails. when he was done, he quickly put together a short synopsis and -minimizing his signal-range for a second- sent it to Ms Johnson, together with the full data-collections. Along with the flow of information, he sent his suggestion to the teams nominal leader, to head for the place the twins had not scouted yet, and send some or all of the ganger to the other place.

Scanning the surrounding once more, the hypnotic ebb and flow quickly made his eyes unfocus and his mind drift away. Thinking hard he tryed to make up a resonable plan in the short time remaining, a plan he could convince the team -especially the impulsive combat mage- to go along with. Thinking on his feet was not the once burned out manager´s strong point. Several seconds passed, but the first-time shadow-operative´s came up empty.

Letting go for a moment, to ease his mind, the elf looked at his nigh invisible reflection in the van´s grimy window. Not much had changed since last night, or the night before, at least on a superficial level. His short croped hair had grown by a barely noticable fraction of it´s former lenth. The color was an unobstrusive, dull black, as was the typically soft facial hair, tentatively making it´s way out of his skin. His skin was slightly tanned in a way, that made it hard to judge if it was due to ethnicity, lifestyle or cosmetics. his stature remained in the slender but well toned form, John had shaped it into with regular physical exercises, since he had come to Seattle, though it was still far from being impressive or intimidating. The suit was the same gray Actioneer, he had been waring all days, still the dirt- and odor-repellant impregnation of his clothing and the wrinkle-resistant gen-engineered spidersilk and synthetic fibers made it look like it was coming directly out of his closet. It only looked a bit used and worne out, due to the combination with his squash t-shirt and the unbuttoned shirt. Of course his hotel´s cleaning service had removed all traces of the last two night´s events from the outfit. His handsome off-the-shelf face looked as good as ever - well allmost as good. The traces of the barfights he had gotten himself into, when he had landed in the metroplex, had gone away allmost compleatly, the only thing that remaines, was a slight asymetry in the ridge of his nose, though it was less then most peoples noses deviated from perfection without ever catching a single punch. The many cosmetic operations John had gone through in his life, made his looks easily mistakable for a number of public faces. Most pople would find him familiar, though it was hard to pinpoint, why. This quality made the elven negotiater sympatic to almost everyone, giving him an edge on the first encounter, though that quickly wore off, because his looks lacked any defining features. Handsome, definitly, even beautyfull, maybe, but hardly recognizable.
Still, something had changed, some 'shadow' had fallen over him. The tell-tale signs where still weak and elusive, nobody that didn´t know John very well and had the right antennae to read people would notice. It had started at Ground-Zero, the club´s scenery, the fight, the Heartbreaker´s self-mutilation had only been the opening, what was really corroding the infomonger´s mind was the sick snuff shit he had been sifting through that day. Just thinking of it made him want to barth, made him want to kick the shit out of the suckers producing that kind of stuff. It reminded him of things he had read, heard and seen in the vast sea of information that his formar life had given him access to. Tamanous, Halberstam, the aztec blood-cults. But this time, there was some personal relationship, ther was Esmeralda, the corpse-like, masochist nun, and -a bit horryfied- he realized that he was starting to care for her.
Still only those extreamly sensible would notice that something was up with him. To others, he would just seem a bit tired or migrenia-ridden or maybe just pissed. Most however, didn´t pay enough attention to notice even that. The moment passed by however, like the dimm stretlights, lining the road and John turned his attention back on the job.

Krait: "So, how are we going to handle this?"

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:00
PAN is offline, Juan is hiding, Alfred is hiding, and Daisy is her usual, and Sophie is with Daisy

In the fifteen minuets, Naguel has produced a dozen possible plans, and discarded all but one. He had a better grip on things now, even if he had hadn't been active in the previous minuets. He set his select sound filters to record the conversation of the criminals, and the bartender. Then he began to look about the room, trying to spot any and all security cameras, or other surveillance devices.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:06] Sophie, please commence a data search for an employee list for Locus Hotel Delta. Specifically, I want to know who works security and surveillance. Run a check on those names. I want to know who they know, who their relatives are, and where they live. I want to know how long they have been employed, any criminal history, everything you can find. Then, do the same for the bartenders. And be sure to be diligent in spoofing the datatrail- take all the time you need to insure it does not lead back to us. Also, get ready to encrypt a message to be sent to Sidereal's dropbox.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:07] I shall begin at once, Mr. Basurto. Would you care for the information as I find it, or as a finished package?>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:010] As a finished package, please, Sophie. When you have finished with that, browse these online public databases for the origin of these {File Attached} If you do not find it, search similar databases, prioritize by proximity to this site, until you do find it.>>

It had been a long debate, for Naguel, whether or not to involve Sidereal. If any information about the targets is, or ever was, on the net, Sidereal would find it. But Naguel also knew nothing about the hacker. He suspected Sidereal had at one point been a runner, but that was the extent of it. In the end, he decided to risk it. Sidereal probably only knew slightly more about him than he knew of Sidereal. Surely not enough risk to outweigh the potential gain.

<<Fairweather @ 23h56m4.090530833s [Thursday 08/14/70 20:47:07] I need all information you can find on the indiviguals named in the following file. They are pros, so you will almost certainly have to dig deep. Regular fee acceptable? {File Attached}>>

With the message encrypted and sent to the anonymous e-host, [b]Naguel pulled up his schematic of the building and tried to locate, or at least make an educated guess, as to where the security station would be.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:10

Naguel's painstaking search for surveillance devices yielded nothing. Nor could he locate a likely security hub on his schematic.

It took several seconds of frustration before he completed the paradigm shift - what would a seedy dive like this be doing with a formal security set-up? It was clear that no one cared if someone was hurt - he'd seen more than one beating in the last quarter hour. There was unlikely anything here worth stealing. And for all that, as a busy industrial area, the neighborhood was well-patrolled by law enforcement, and strangers were easy to spot.

Once he'd changed his mindset, Naguel was able to identify a rough-looking troll who wasn't doing much - including not doing too much drinking - and who once made a trip into the office behind the bar. He looked as though he might be lightly enhanced - his obsidian orb eyes were one telltale. Naguel guessed he'd just spotted the main component of the place's security apparatus.

Entering downtown Seattle dockyards
Thursday 08/14/70 20:38:00

Huddled in her corner of the van, Carla read through Krait's information carefully. The size difference between the young doctor and the nearby trolls was astounding; she looked positively tiny sitting on the floor with her knees tucked into her chest and her feet hidden beneath her protective longcoat . Indeed, the generous folds and wrinkles in the coat indicated that Carla's body didn't nearly fill out the garment completely; the fact that the sleeves (the right of which was stained with blood, though it was difficult to tell given the coat's dark color) reached all the way to her fingertips suggested that the coat might have been one or two sizes too big for her. Was she shrinking? Carla feared that her current lifestyle was putting her on a path towards attaining Esmeralda's physique; she ate little, she slept little, she worked constantly during the day, and now she was going on crazy adventures at night too. Her face alone provided evidence that she was running out of gas; her eyes, once sharp, attentive, inquisitive, now appeared dull and disinterested. The light tan she had inherited from her Colombian ancestry had all but faded after hours of living and working under either fluorescent lights or darkness. Carla used to secretly fantasize that, if she just fixed herself up a bit, she might qualify as a pretty lady. Now she just looked sickly.

"Okay, here's a plan," Carla eventually replied. "We'll head for Humpty's first; we'll send you, Frank, along with the twins to head inside and scope out the place. You and Paddy's sister are both good in social situations, and Paddy can provide emergency protection if it's needed. I'm counting on you, Frank to keep those two under control while you're inside. They take orders from you if not directly from me."

Gesturing towards the gangers, Carla continued, "The boys and I will stay in the van and look for a nearby place to park - or we'll just drive around for a while if we need to. You keep in contact with us while you're inside, and we'll triangulate an ambush if we find our target."

Entering downtown Seattle dockyards
Thursday 08/14/70 20:38:10

Etain had been disappointed when they left the freeway - she had doffed her helmet right away and reveled in feeling the wind whipping her long hair about her face - but she was feeling so good that nothing could keep her down for more than a second or two.

Except maybe what she heard over her earbuds. Frank in charge? Worse, the way her brother had apparently sworn some sort of allegiance to the doctor-nun, he might actually go along with it!

It was a good thing she was there to look out for him.

Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:40:09
Krait – Moving to the Humpty Dump's
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai passive (Signal 2)

Krait: "I´ll take care of it, Ms. Am I to determin our aproach in case Evil Jones is present or do you have any preference? If we can speak to him without his face nearby, we would be at an adventage, as talking quiet likely isn´t his strong point, while intimidation and violence probably is! What if he´s not, should we just wait or ask for him? We could pose as potential employers, which would be an easy rout to arrange for a meeting, if he dosn´t turn up at either place on his own - though in that case we won´t have the element of surprise on our side anymore and Vanity would most likely the one we´d eventually talk to."

While he spoke, the former executive sent a word to the twins as well, so they´d have some time to adjust to Ms Johnson´s decision.

<<two @ three & four [Thursday 08/14/70 20:40:09] One decided that we are going to enter location two, which you have not visited yet. As long as you don´t get instructions from one, you´ll have to take directions from me. If violence breaks out, I´ll trust three to call the shots, but I expect you, not to start any trouble yourself! Also restrict yourself to non-lethal means unless deadly force is absolutly necessary.>>

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:46:10
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie is with Albert

With an easy glance, Naguel snapped a few shots at various magnifications of the troll with obsidian cybereyes.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:46:45] New priority, Sophie. Please note the troll in the following photos. I want the standard background information. You may cancel the first search for Locus Hotel Delta employees.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:46:47] Search halted. I will begin the new search immediately, Mr. Basurto. Would you like the information all at once, as your previously requested?>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:46:58] No Sophie. Give me what you have at the five minuet mark, so that I may digest it will you gather the rest.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:47:01] Of course, Mr. Basurto, that is very wise. I shall begin immediately.>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:47:6] Thank you, Sophie.>>

With that, Naguel leaned back deeper into his seat and had another sip of the poor beer. Not that he noticed its distinct lack of quality. All beer was equally poor in Naguel's eyes. He sighed, and fixed a track of his select sound filter to the troll, and waited for the initial report. Idly he tunned into the select sound filters in turn, picking up snippets of conversation, and then flipping to the next audio channel, sometimes taking in the general static on the room.

Across the street from Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:52:30

As they approached the bar, Paddy watched in his rearview mirror as the van stopped briefly to puke out one of the ganger scum. Unconcerned, he gunned his light bike ahead, swinging it easily into a dark alley across from Humpty's Dump.

The place was a lot bigger than Dirty Dick's, and seemed to be built of sturdier materials. There were a number of cars illegally parked around it. He could see only its front face, which had no windows and only one door.

He and his sister dismounted as the van eased to a rolling stop, letting out Frank, their "leader." Then it turned off all its lights and crept down the street another block before slipping into a pool of deep shadow under a broken streetlight - all easily observed by Paddy's elven eyes.

Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:40:15

"It would be ideal if you could speak to him alone," Carla answered Krait. "Look around the place and see if you can spot him yourselves. If that fails, then you can resort to asking for him. And if we have to arrange a formal meeting with him, that will have to do."

"Do you have any idea how much information this Vanity character might have? Talking to her might turn out to be just as useful as talking to EJ."

As Krait mentioned posing as a potential employer, Carla remembered what little she knew about the "shadowrunning" business. If EJ was as experienced as they thought, then Mr. Chu might know a thing or two about him. For a price...

Across the street from Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:53:15

Etain had reluctantly slipped back on the clothes from their earlier jaunt to the tattoo shop and Dirty Dick's, as she couldn't convince herself to sully up yet another set of clothes to return to the docks, plus the outfit seemed to fit the dress code of the clientelle down this way. She donned the same oversized surplus army jacket along with the all too revealing tanktop and a pair of black cargo pants covered with zippers ending in a pair of heavy black boots.

She had waited till they had arrived at their target location before she started fumbling and playing with the new commlink she had been given back at the clinic. Firing it up she had just linked to her earbuds in time to hear the message chime alerting her to the message which she dutifully read as she mock saluted the night air.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as Frank's message came across the newly activated and borrowed comm, it would be bad enough to have to "take orders" from him as is, but for him to toss in a little snide comment about not starting trouble... what did he think they were, heathens like the Troll and his friends? They were Tir nobles for god's sake! Tir nobles about to enter a seedy strip club and look for gutter trash to find a missing nun. Her mock indignation dissolved into a soft little giggle because really, through the haze of the bliss, everything was amusing.

It did click into place that once again Miss J would be keeping herself far out of the potential "trouble" as it was clear that she wouldn't be joining the Elves as they entered Humpty's Dump.

"Convenient innit dat yisser boss is playin' it safe an' puttin' al' av our asses on de line for 'er benefit."

She shook her head, her mood for an instant darkened again as the unjustness of the situation weighed on her shoulders, but with the next gust of wind and her platinum hair tickling her face the smile of pleasure touched her lips though her eyes were void of anything beyond the high.

Across the street from Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:53:15

Stepping off the bike, Conall could help it but sigh under his helmet. It wasn't that he had a real problem with authority. Well... not in general. Alright... he definitely wasn't the most compliant of elves, but it had been taught that someone of his stature and skills was destined to two things: either to lead the pack, or to follow into the trail of the alpha. Every single instructor and commanding officer he had been under had more than deserved his attention and compliance. They were all either pure bloods who held honor and duty as their greatest virtues... or men who had years of experience serving and protecting the Tir with every single beat of their hearth.

But now, things were all upside down and then some. Surely, the young shaman didn't quite believe that Carla was superior to him. But at least he knew she was well schooled and educated, had decent manners and common sense. She was a very decent person... as far as humans went. Most of the calls she had made up to tonight had been just and fair, in their own way, or at least in her own view of the world. Conall believed firmly that if she had ever knew who she was dealing with, she would have behaved in a very different manner. But then again, he couldn't quite blame her. They weren't from the same world.

And so, by having sworn himself into her service, the young wolf shaman was simply bound by his word. He had to follow whatever orders she gave him, no matter how fragging fragged up they were. That was the duty of a good soldier and warrior.

Slipping out of his helmet, Conall whipped his now slightly longer light brown hair away from his face. Ever since he had arrived to Seattle, the young elf had shed his usual “groomingâ€�. Gone was the military obligation to keep his hair cropped short... as well as a shaved face. An unkempt almost reddish beard had started to grow, making only rougher his already far from soft features. His hair was unkempt and tangled all over the place adding and completing his now officially scruffy look. As much as Etain might have stuck out with her outfit, Conall did fit rather well with the scene. His dark blue jeans had already begun to fade slightly, and his boots weren't as shiny and new as before. The simple black sleeveless muscle shirt he wore under his jacket only accentuated his biker allure. Not in a thousand years would anyone have mistaken him for a Danaan outcast. Not anymore at least. His eyes now glimmered with something more than the simple assuredness of being trained and arrogant.
He now felt capable.
He now felt lethal.

From across the street, he eyed Krait approach the entrance to the bar, which stood only a few feet away from him. His eyes simply passed him by, as Conall did his very best to ignore his presence.

Giving his sister's comment a half smile, Conall pulled the seat of his bike open, stuffing his helmet inside and shoving his shock gloves inside the side pockets of his jacket. If things got rough with EJ and whom ever, he knew all too well he'd have to express some sort of restraint. Not something that was particularly his forte. But there was just no way in hell they could afford to loose their lead... not now. To the best of his knowledge, if this trail went cold, they were back at square one: empty handed.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Conall opened and closed his hands a few times, breathing slowly in and out as he did so.

Watch over us as we go on this hunt.

Conall waited until Krait was way passed them and inside the club before he clicked his commlink.

"Copy two." was all he said. And that was him trying to be polite...

Humpty's Dump, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:22
Krait - Entering Humpty Dump's
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

As Ayrin received Krait´s message on her new business comlink, an icon was flashing on her display saying Read Me ... when you´ve got time to do so


Before he entered the dive, John sent his teammates some last instructions. He hated to go inside without scouting the place throughly beforehand, but Paddy was right, they had little time to do so.

<<Two @ Three & Four [Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:22]: "Once inside, give me some breathing room. If he´s there, keep an eye out if anyone is taking to much interest when I aproach. Once I´m talking, you can get involved. Four, chim into the conversation, whenever you think it would help. Three, support our position, if talking gets rough, take over if fists start flying.>>

Normaly, John would take these things for granted, but with an intoxicated glamour girl and an incomplient combat-mage, things where not so easy. With a heavy sigh, he pushed open the door, trying to look like a pencile-pushing shift-superviser in need of an afterwork drink.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:30
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie in the vehicle

<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:52:10] I have the results of the first half of the search, Mr. Basurto. I think you will find it most satisfactory.>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:52:33] Thank you, Sophie. Coming from you, I am sure I will.>>

Immediately, Naguel opened the file and began to sort through the information. Let it settle into his brain. Diffuse. He turned the facts over in his mind, created profile, and came to what he believed to be the best method for getting what he desired.

Pushing himself slowly from his seat, he made his way towards the bar. Naguel took seat at the end of the bar, near to where the troll was standing. He ordered something on tap, then noticed a blip in his HUD as someone new entered. This was the kind of thing he had been waiting for. An elf in a business suit. Naguel watched him pause outside the door. Saw his shoulder's move. Sighing? His posture changed to be a bit more defeated, though the elf already did look warn. Here was a man, who wasn't what he was trying to seem to be. But, Naguel had no intent of arousing suspicions about himself. He pulled up the mapsoft of the local area and traced a quick route between the parking lot and Locus Hotel Delta. A route that avoided all major roads, and ended in an open alley which faced the bar.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:53:21] Sophie, pause the search. Take the vehicle, Macro D, and bring it around front. Follow this route. I want you to watch the door. This man {{Image attached}} should exit soon. I want you to see what vehicle he enters. Wait for me there, and be careful please. Try to avoid being seen as much as possible as well.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:53:22] I will be careful, Mr. Basurto. Please be careful as well.>>

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:53:24] I'm always careful>>

That done, Naguel turned on the barstool to face the troll with a grin.

"Well, if it isn't Big Glen. Are you enjoying your retirement?" Naguel said in a friendly, conversational tone. Though his face was pointed at the troll, as in normal conversation, behind his shades, his eyes where split between watching and evaluating the troll's reactions, and observing the actions of the out of place elf.

St. Pierre's Van
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:30

Carla suddenly found herself slightly uncomfortable hiding alone in the back of a van with a couple of male gangers. After all, she didn't know St. Pierre very personally, and she barely knew the Padre. In fairness, though, she couldn't honestly say that she knew her own elven "shadowrunners" any better than these guys - but at least the elves weren't so freaking big! Carla's only assurance was the fact that Los Locos had been consistently courteous towards her (to put it lightly) given her position in the parish.

Typing in the air with her AR gloves, Carla sent a message to the elves:

<<One @ Two, Three, Four [08/14/70 20:53:31]: So our communications ought to be secure given the work you did earlier, right Two?>>

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:33
Two - Scouting Humpty Dump's
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

Entering the unmarked, sturdy but bland, mid-size building, the volume of the southern-style country-rock fusion, which John had allready perceived outside, mixed with the sound of people screaming and shouting over the ambient white noise, increased for a split-second before his ear-ware regulated it down to a soft background-noise. And with the first step he took into the beer-stained interior, a wall of smoke and warm, used -one could also say abused- air hit his face.

The smell of metahuman sweat and dirt forboded what his eyes confirmed as they rolled over the room once from the left to the right, his enhanced ears making them follow his gaze. The place was mostly filled with low-class workers, mostly orks and humans, as well as a fair share of trolls, many of whome had not seen a shower since their last shift - or longer. At least the bar did not smell like piss and puke like other seedy dives the former corporate powerplayer had been to.

The patrons where seated at a generous number of tables and a bar against the right wall, behind which was a pair of doors. Many of the watering holes denizens where armed to one degree or another, a pair of orks where punching each other in the face ad one table and another was subduing his human comrade over some disagreement, but there was nothing else that cought his attention on first glance. There was a nude, female ork behind chicken wire, acting as placeholder for dancer, but he did not give her more then a quick look, to keep the feeling of disgust to an unnoticable minimum. Evil Jones was nowhere to be seen.

Some Virtua-Pods and old-style billiards tables where situated beyond the bar and there where four more doors at the far end of the room, a pair of which obviously lead to the restrooms, while the other two on the left side where unmarked.

As his eyes wandered back from the left to the right, to give the scenery a second look, the elf still didn´t notice any security features, though the low class entertainment and mid-class beer-lables indicated, that there was apearently some money flowing in this place, it obviously wasn´t enough to warent any such investments. A number of trolls could potentialy act as bouncers, though there was only one that John singled out as the most likely candidate as this place´s sentry tower, for his strategic position, obsidian eye-mods and somewhat distanced attitude towards the surrounding scene of afterwork drunkenness, though at this moment another patron was talking to the huge metahuman.

This first scan took place between the first three steps he made into the room, doing his best to fir in, despite his drastically underrepresented metatype. Without hasitating for even a moment, he made his way for the bathrooms, giving the bartender a slight sign of recognition by lifting his chin and eyebrows slightly, while he looked for anything or any[i]one[/b] out of place or paying too much attention to him. Meanwhile he tryed to find out if any of the doors to the left where potential emergency exits -leading directly outside- from the Seattle Emergency Services Map Soft he owned. His search routine wasn´t interrupted, by listening to Ms Johnson´s message and sending a quick reply.

<<Two @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:33]: "Security has only increased slightly on my end, as you still lack proper utilities and even my encryption is rendered useless, as long as you keep using wireless output devices."

St. Pierre's Van
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:40

What!? Carla thought. Carla was by no means a tech layman - she had been training to become a cybersurgeon after all - but communications technology and cryptography were far out of her domain of knowledge. Apparently, she had vastly overestimated the extent to which Krait had beefed up their commlink security.

<<One @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:33]: "Alright then; try to keep communications down to an absolute minimum.

After sending her message, Carla got off the floor to peek over the front seats of the van, trying to get a glimpse of what lay outside.

Humpty's Dump
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:45

One sleazy bar, fifty soused patrons, and two hunters.

One saw the coarse features of a troll make a conscious effort not to look alarmed. The bouncer's lips moved, and the hunter heard: "Sorry, too much Nitro - no good for the memory." But at the same time, he was channel surfing his select sound filter, which was set to a number of persons-of-interest. Paydirt! Some ork said to the bartender: "Van's really outdoin' herself tonight." "Wouldn't know. She do this often?" "Yeah, often enough, and it don't make her man real happy."

Meanwhile, another hunter's eyes were scanning the room, missing nothing. As his state-of-the-art software scanned for hidden nodes, he took in the more colorful patrons. He realized that the nude ork lolling listlessly behind the chicken wire was not a stand-in for a dancer, she was the dancer. Though she was being upstaged by a blond woman on the bar - he marked her for just a drunk patron, since she still had her trousers and brassiere on. There were at least two fights/beatings taking place, but most people were too drunk to notice. An African-American woman was half-consciously berating a group of men for their unsatisfactory drinking habits - she was the only one at her table still conscious; she wore a well-concealed weapon under her rough flannel workman's shirt. But then, it seemed that half the people in the place were armed. There was the skinny bald guy shooting pool - he had a big Rambo knife in his boot, and no attempt to hide it. The troll he'd marked as the bouncer had tell-tale studs above three of the knuckles on his right hand - spurs, no doubt. The good-looking Hispanic man he talked to had something up the sleeve of his armored jacket. And there was a group of individuals at one table - they talked to each other, they watched everyone else, and they were all armed to the teeth under their armored clothes. They were nominally dressed like dock workers; the people in here were probably not so stupid they didn't notice, so they likely didn't mind having these types in the place - which said something about the sort of joint this was, and also went far to explain why he'd been able to find no security devices.

And there was the other thing he'd been unable to find - any sign of a bald buy with red eyebrows and goatee.

St. Pierre's Van
Thursday 08/14/70 20:53:45

Carla observed the target location and its surroundings, not really sure what she was looking for. The setting reminded her of the docks back in New York City - not that she had ever spent very much time there herself. But the mixed races and ethnicities reminded Carla of what it was like to be part of a large, open, urban community; it wasn't at all like the little enclave she had buried herself into over the past few months.

She glanced over to see St. Pierre sitting quietly in the seat in front of her. She couldn't tell whether he was patiently observing the area or was simply bored. Given that future communication with the elves would be rather light, Carla decided to strike up some conversation.

"So do you have any other noteworthy stories about Sister Esmeralda," Carla asked the troll. "We never really spoke of personal matters when we worked together. I hardly knew outside of her nursing capabilities...and her piety, of course."

Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:54:03

It didn't take long for the two Elves to cross the distance from where they had tucked the racing bike away and the front door of the dive they were about to enter. Etain hesitated about three meters from the door, having to sidestep almost clumsily (for an Elf at least) to not be run over by a trio of dock workers who weren't about to let a wisp of a woman get in between them and their after-work libations. She shot her brother a look of reassurance that she was fine before he started trouble outside the bar.

"Are we really takin' orders from dat tosser Frank?"

The grimace that graced her brother's lips said more than his words ever would. He was loyal to Miss J and that in turn meant he was planning on "following" any direction that filtered down inside the bar from Frank's lips. All she could do was shake her head and at the same time aquiesse. Her loyalties however extended to her brother first and foremost, and her unpaid "job" second. With nothing left to discuss outside the pair made their way into the bar.

Stepping inside the place and looking around, it was easy to say this place was leaps and bounds better than Dirty Dick's, but in reality it wasn't saying much. The patrons were unsavory at best and no matter how hard the twins tried to look the part, their Elven heritage set them far out of place in a rat-trap like this. Etain's eyes moved about the place, taking everything in. From the nude ork woman "dancing" behind the chicken wire to the blonde on the bar top moving with much more conviction. She swallowed what was left of her remaining pride and walked over towards an empty hole at the bar, feeling her brother right behind her.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:03
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie in the vehicle

Naguel called to the barkeep for a couple of whatever's on tap for himself, and whatever Big Glen favored. He snapped a fair number of shots of the ork in the process, while dedicating a select sound filter to him indefinitely. As his eyes moved, he photographed every woman in the room he could, though he already had a fair idea of who the ork was referring to. He dedicated a filter channel to her as well.

"Don't worry about it. I don't try to be remembered. I deal in information, you see, and could use an extra set of eyes around here. You being a family man, trying to get by on a bouncer's wage, well I figured you might be able to use some easy nuyen." Naguel said casually, taking the beer for himself, and passing the other drink to Big Glen as he continued to smile. The smile almost froze slightly when he saw two more elves approach the bar.

When it rains, it pours Naguel thought, as he replayed the clip of their entrance. He extracted still frames that provided a good view of their faces.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:54:02]Sophie, I am sending you five faces. I want names first, SINs second, anything else tertiary. They are ordered by priority, find the names for all before proceeding to SINs. Begin as soon as you have the vehicle in position. Hurry please, Sophie.>>

<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:54:03]I will begin as soon as I can, Mr. Basurto.>>

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:10
Two - Putting an ear out
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

John walked past the bar, towards the restrooms, while his attention seemed to focus on the blond on the bar, though part of his attention lingered on whatever the non-caucasian female might have to say. The armed, non-caucasian woman, which also showed some social scills, if only in crousing, was the closest any of the Dump´s denizens came to one of their targets´ descriptions. As he listened for anything that might confirm or negate this hope, he also tryed to judge how alcohol-impeded her contiousness realy was. Still he kept an eye out for the focal points of interest in the dive, recording for later analysis.

He gave the men´s restroom a quick check, to make sure their prime target was not there. While he did so, he quickly listened into his audio-recording, filtering out the well armed group´s conversation and the talk between the beauty and the beast, to get en idea, what they where talking about. After running some water through his fingers and watch the drops pearl off his repellent gloves, he whiped some water over his face and returned to the main room and casually scanned the crowd once more. Giving the two other elves that had just entered a more through look, but showing no sign of recognition, he moved to the bar, but not the same gap his teammates where aiming to exploit. Wether the people belived that three elves in this place at the same time did not know each other or not, they surely wouldn´t belive it if they payed no attention to each other, as the only representatives of their kind.

When the elf arrived at the bar, he waved for a keeper and waited untill he got his attention. More looking at the woman on the bar, then the male behind it, he talked to the man.

Krait: "Joe here tonight? Tall, tough looking guy, huge muscles..."

The barkeeper did not apear to know who the elf talked about at first, just as expected, but he faked some sign of recognition and then shook his head, just as expected. The superficial description would most likely fit a number of this places patrons, many of which wouldn´t be known by name.

Krait: "Carolina Blond, anyway, but say, who´s that blond, is she doable?"

The amateur-runner ordered a beer and at the same time mounted a conversation to learn something about the afro-american next.

St. Pierre's Van
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:03

"Not really," the troll answered. "The one story I told you stuck out in my mind, of course. But other than that - well, it was clear that like the fathers and Don Ricardo she disapproved of our way of keeping the neighborhood safe - but then someone has to make the hard choices, don't they? In any case, she still always took care of our medical needs, and we were grateful to her for that, as we are to you. And of course respect must be afforded any Bride of Christ if we are to lay claim to Salvation through His Atoning Grace. So I am afraid I know nothing else of interest to you, although when not working she did tend to leave the barrio more than any of the other sisters."

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:15

The troll paused for only a moment before answering. He had not missed the casual reference to his family, and he now tread lightly, though Naguel noticed a fire of wary hostility in his eyes.

"That kind of nuyen might not be that easy. People come here expecting not to be talked about." The first riposte in the price negotiation.

At the same time, he heard the bartender reply to the ork - "No skin of my nose. Not my problem." To which the ork replied, "Except it was you served her the booze that got her that way." But before the barkeep could respond, he was distracted by the elf in the suit.

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:17

"...is she doable?"

"Wish I knew," answered the bartender, putting the elf's drink on the counter. He seemed nervous, but Krait could see it wasn't in reaction to himself. "I just started here."

Before Krait could continue the conversation, the bartender said, "Be right back," and went over to see what the other two elves that had just walked in wanted.

During that conversation, the former lawyer had identified several hidden nodes among the patrons: several at the "criminal table" - although he hadn't heard them say anything he found useful - one on the African-American woman - he was listening to her too - "Fuckin' lightweights the lotta ya - letta fuckinbitch outdrink yer sorry brokedicked asses whaidwai e'en bozher widdya?" - and two hidden nodes on the Hispanic man, who was trying to buy some sort of information from the reluctant troll.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:35
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie in the vehicle

"I certainly would not like to put you at risk. That's bad business. Lucky, then, that I'm not asking for talk. You see, I was being a bit literal when I said I needed a pair of eyes. I want access to your cybereye feeds and history. No one needs know- I have a specialist who can erase any datatrail. Should anyone be watching, all he sees is that I slip you a credstick, point at some undesirable, who isn't a regular, and you throw the bugger out. You come back I buy you another drink. No one notices the amount credstick was far too high for simply bribing you to toss a personal enemy out." Naguel said easily, with confidence in his voice.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [08/14/70 20:54:30] Sophie, please replace the final image for the search with the following. {image attached}, and also, at top priority, forward this message to Mr. Chu>>

<<Brazil @ Mr. Chu [08/14/70 20:54:35] I regret to inform you our appointment must be delayed. If I can still make it in tonight, I will contact you to reschedule within one hour. If you do not hear from me before then, I will contact you tomorrow to arrange a meeting at a later time. Please pardon any inconvenience.>>

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:45

The troll was interested, but cautious. "A lot depends on how too high yer talkin' about. And I notice yer gettin' to fer the price of one out of the deal. Tell ya what. First, you tell me how much is on the stick. If it's wiz enough, I throw this guy out. But I think there's a reason you want me doin' yer dirty work. If the guy turns out to be twice as tough as he looks or some crap like that, then that's the end of the deal. He goes easy, you got yer download."

As the bouncer laid out his terms, Sophie reported:
<<Sophie @ SPOT [08/14/70 20:54:44] The vehicle is in place. I will begin the searches now, Mr. Basurto.>>

St. Pierre's Van
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:45

Talking and watching, Carla and her companions saw a sleek red Suzuki Mirage pull up near the front door. It had no driver, which while technologically unremarkable, was somewhat surprising in this neighborhood.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:55
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie is with Alfred

"Two-fifty, and I will pick out someone easy for you." Naguel said, turning on his barstool to face away from the bar as he slowly surveyed the room. Though his scan seems to impassively sweep the entire room, it was impossible to tell exactly what he was currently inspecting beneath his dark shades.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:48

"Sure, Y300 oughtta do it. Who's the mark?"

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:00
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie is with Alfred

"No one will miss the dandelion eater. Hell, he probably fired a few people here at some point." Naguel said with a grin as he jerked a thumb at the elf in a business suit. Then he reached into his jacket, and pulled out a credstick. "Here. Catch." He tossed it to the troll, then pushed himself up from the bar and walked to the were the bartender was talking with the elf. Naguel interrupted them clasping one hand with obvious force on the elf's shoulder. It might have been a brotherly gesture, if it had been done far lighter.
"Barkeep, I'm going to need two shots of that fine looking liquor," Naguel said, pointing to a dark, nearly opaque drink in a bottle behind the bar. He took the two drinks and took a seat well away from the suited elf, and between him and the other two elves. Then, he raised one of the shots to Big Glen in cheers.

Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:54:27

Etain was about to open her mouth to order something to drink when her brother beat her to it.

"Two pints." Is all his gruff voice said, loud enough for the bartender to hear. The bartender nodded, but before he could get away Etain piped up.

"An' a shot av whiskey, somethin' Oirish if yer 'av it."

She managed a slight smirk in the bartender's direction as she gave her hair a toss which lead to a convenient look about the place. She noted Krait's location further up the bar but she still had no sign of spotting EJ amidst the bar patrons. She hid her disappointment as her fingers brushed against her brother's leg. An innocent gesture from a distance, but one with far more meaning as Conall felt a familiar sensation.

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:00
Two - Putting an ear out
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

As the barkeep was called off to the other elves and his scan ´s results came in, he took a closer virtuel look at the hidden nodes. The black woman's hidden node had Firewall 6, System 5, and negligible wireless activity. The handsome hispanic carried even two hidden nodes, one of double-six-rating -real state of the art- which wasn´t varry busy and another one bench-marking around the middle field in power and protection, that had fairly high wifi output. At that point, the technician interrupted the preprogrammed routine, suspending the analysis of the multiple hidden nodes at the criminal´s table, to instead decrypt and intercept the hispanic´s busy node´s signals.

For a moment, he considdered going back in time, to filter out whomever the barkeeper had talked to before, but decided against it. He might have found out why he was acting this nervous, but it was going to take more time and afford than he could bring up right now. Thinking about his next move, he leaned his back against the bar and gave the room another look from one side to the other -seeing nothing new- but before he could come up with something else, the guy wehind the bar was back with a rougish smile and a sideglance to the female elf he had just treated.

Barkeeper: "I´d like to treat that one some more!"

Still he couldn´t hide his lingering agitation. The former lawyer turned around halfway, to face the nervous new guy again.

Two: "Not bad, a bit too skinny for my taste. That one´s more of my liking."

He moved his pupils towards the corners of his eyes, clearly indicating the drunk female at the central table. Instantly, he noticed the barguy´s stresslevel rise.

Barkeeper: "You don´t want to mess with Van!"

The guy wanted to give vent to his feelings obviously and though they did only know each other for a minute, John had his way to make people talk - he could have become a top journalist.

At first the bartender did not want to talk about her. Apparently everyone in there knew that bad things happened to people that blabed about any underworld patrons of the bar, but he obviously was upset and wanted to talk to someone. It seemed he was now really afraid that Vanity's boyfriend, a guy named Evil, is going to kick his ass for letting her have so much alcohol. Obviously, they had found their target´s face/lover.

Suddenly, the handsome hispanic jerked his thumb at John, while still talking to the trog. Then he tossed the huge meta a credstick and got up.

What have they been talking about? He silently cursed himself for missing out on the last 15 seconds of the conversation and quickly let his comlink press a synopsis of the recording through his direct neural interface.

<<Two @ Three [Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:56]: "Be cool.">>

As the latino smacked his hand on the elf´s shoulder, John allready layed out his defensive strategy, by the time the other man lifted his glass towards the troll bouncer, he was allready set. Everyone in there knew that bad things happened to people that blabed about any underworld patrons of the bar!

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 8/14/70 20:54:28

With something akin to a growl, Conall took the probably piss tasting beer from the bartender, barely acknowledging him and threw it back. As he had anticipated, it tasted like shit. Had he had more money... and a SIN, he would have been obliged to open a decent drinking joint in this town. Up to now, beside maybe Penumbra, nothing was coming even close to what they had back home. Not even by an inch.

Quickly, he drowned himself in about a third of the lukewarm beverage, eying both sides of the bar with nothing more than a casual glance. Sure; he knew they were here for EJ, or his chick. He also knew that tracking people was one thing he was good at... but finding someone in a dump like this wasn't his play field. After all, he had been told to hold the sidelines until called for.

Babysitting. Thats what he was really doing.

As he drank his bottle down to the half now, Conall did his very best to ignore everyone and everything around him. It wasn't making him sick. That had already happened when he had set foot in the place. Now, it was now making him feel entirely disgusted.

Out of the thick of smoke and the nauseous cloud that hung in the room, some dockworker came by with a big drunken grin, parking himself right next to Etain. Conall was about to lean over across the bar and explain the finer points of manners and etiquette to the man when a little voice pipped up in his ear.

<<Two @ Three [Thursday 08/14/70 20:54:56]: "Be cool.">>

Instinctively, Conall would have turned his head to look over toward Krait... but at this point in time, it wasn't something he needed to do. Instead, he simply stood there... staring at his half emptied beer. As Etain's gaze drifted across the bar and toward their partner, Conall could see the scene through her eyes as if they were his.

The young shaman wasn't quite sure what the hell was going on... or why he was being told to keep his cool. Something was off. Something was going down and he had no idea what it was.

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:25

Krait knew the ploy as well as any elementary school student - the friendly, too-loud, too-close body contact that you knew was hostile but that dared you to do something about it before the aggressor was in position. But he also knew the real threat was at the other end of the bar, and he was ready for it.

The troll waited a few seconds...for the drunk blond to gyrate within arm's length of the elf. Then he moved and moved fast. In three giant strides he had cut a swath through the crowd and covered the five meters between him and Krait.

***

Looking through his sister's eyes, Paddy didn't want to believe what he saw. Close to half a metric ton of hostile trog in motion, stopped by one index finger. Not many mundanes had that kind of force of personality. But there it was. The troll's hands were centimeters from the "leader" elf - the "be cool" elf - and the beast was bellowing something about a "look but don't touch" rule, even though Frank's hands had never strayed near the slut - and the elf held up one finger and the troll stopped in his tracks as though he'd hit a brick wall.

Then Frank said something Paddy couldn't hear that made the troll pause even longer.

***

"Wouldn't want your recorded conversation," eyes went to north end of bar, "to be sent to that table," eyes went to table of no-goodniks over in the corner.

For an agonizing moment, the troll paused. His own eyes betrayed his thoughts as he weighed his options - over to the table, over Krait's shoulder at the Hispanic fellow, and then straight into the elf's eyes. It was time for the knock-out blow: "Really want to mess with Evil J´s business?"

The bouncer's face went blood-red. Sputtering and speechless with frustration, he clenched his jaw and angrily wrapped a huge paw around Krait's arm, dragging the elf off his bar stool.

Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:27
Two - Trog-handling
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

Damn, bad idea! The former lawyer fealt like he had just told the trog the joke about the ork, the troll and the fixer - and explained it, when he didn´t lough. However all was not lost, yet. The negotiator did not make any defensive move. Still he hastily sent a short message to his teammates, just in case he had to retire from tonight´s task.

<<Two @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:25]: In case I´m going out - drunk afro = target´s girl>>

As he did so, he spoke to the troll holding his arm in a mighty prank. His voice was calm, but ice cold and as sharp as a knife, though he didn´t know how many words he´d be getting out, before the beast hauled him out of the door.

Two: "Snuffing me out wouldn´t stop the news!"

The moment his wireless message was out, he set up the prepaired recording to be sent knocking at the criminal´s coms in 9 seconds, unless he revoced or postponed the task, of course. The fact that it was directly targeting their hidden coms should suffice to separate it from ambient spam and raise their attention.

Leaving Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:35

It was a testament to Krait's skills that he was able to keep his wits and still get things done as the troll literally dragged him through the crowd - his feet barely skimming the floor - and straight out the front door. But they didn't stop there - once outside, the bouncer hauled him ten meters down the street and around the corner into a filthy alley.

Both huge hands on the elf's shoulders, he leaned into Krait's face and spoke, veins in his neck bulging: "Don't send the message."

Leaving Humpty's Dump at the Dockyards, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:30

"Good lord," Carla groaned - she tried to restrain her language in front of St. Pierre. Krait was being dragged out the club by a massive troll...and now he was being taken down a nearby alley!

<<One @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:33]: Two, you let me know immediately if you need back up. Three and Four - do the people in the club know you're affiliated with Two?"

Carla turned to St. Pierre: "Georges - I need you and Padre to head over to that alley where Frank was taken. If you see me flash the van headlights once, then come back to the van. If you see me flash the headlights more than once, then go in the alley and get Frank."

Filthy Alley at the Dockyards, 10 meters down the street from Humpty's Dump front entrance, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:40
Two - Trog-handling
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

As the monster unceremoniously guided John out, the technician reset the timer to sent the message to 5 more seconds, to give him some more seconds to rescue the situation, or at least salvage it. He also set up another one with 20 seconds delay, as a dead man´s trigger. He looked straight into the huge, horned face, with a calm, professional expression. As he spoke, another message went off, to another group of criminals.

<<Two @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:36]: Coms on Team-Mode, now. Please confirm!>>

Two: "Your choice! Dead man´s trigger, ticking timer, 3 seconds. Hands off now, then we talk!"

Once that request was out, he already compiled the next one.

<<Two @ One [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:38]: Backup inside. Shield 3/4 from Hispanic (@ bar? armored jacked & s.th. up r. sleeve!) & others(?) once action rolls.>>

The troll just stared manecingly at his not so easy target.

Two: "1 second!"

The short time didn´t leave the troll any chance to elaborate his Intimidation attempt. He´d either have to let go, hope that John was bluffing -which he wasn´t- or face the consequences. Balls in your court big boy.

Humpty's Dump
Thursday 8/14/70 20:55:38

As she watched Kraitup the bar from the corner of her eye. She had watched the hispanic man approached Krait first, then the rather puffed up Troll bouncer followed. She tensed up slightly on the stool, feeling Conall's own emotions and years of training through the link they shared. Her movement wasn't much of a giveaway that they were connected to the other Elf at all. Almost instantly she saw the message from Krait crawl across her image link and she held her breath for a long second.

Doing the only thing that made sense at that very moment, she grabbed the shot of whiskey the bartender had placed beside her pint of "beer" and downed it, before she turned towards her brother on the stool, nearly turning her back to the bartender. She tried to make it look like she cared about nothing else in the bar besides him, and to a point that was true. Her amber eyes however made a sweep of the room, in particular targeting the woman at the table that Krait had pegged as EJ's one and only, Vanity. Without moving her lips, her voice rang clear and true in her brother's head as she looked to him for the next move.

"What's de plan? Are we gonna sit 'ere an' try not ter draw any more attenshun ter ourselves an' 'ope yer man shows up. Or chucker we start somethin' wi' 'is mot?"

A second more fervored message passed across her image link, right across the woman's face as she looked past her and read the message. At least he's not dead... yet. Her fingers moved to the commlink just under her jacket at her hip and initiated the mode that Krait was requesting. Not wanting to draw additional attention to herself however, she chose not to pull the comm from her side and text a response back.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:45
PAN is offline, Juan is hidden, Alfred is hidden, Daisy is her usual, and Sophie is with Alfred

Now that Naguel is in action, he literally doesn’t waist a single second. As soon as the troll starts to move the elf out, he begins the next phase of his plan. Seeing the amount of personal presence the elf has, Naguel is confident the suited elf could talk Big Glen into anything, given sufficient time. Which means working fast. Enjoying a near euphoria, Naguel, extracted some stills of the female elf from his footage, finding the perfect one and cropped it around the face. Then he did a quick graffiti job on one a particularly bad shot of the remaining male elf, also cropped around the face. While he was doing this, Naguel was half watching the suited elf was leaving the bar and half scanning the crowd around the shirtless human woman. He picked out a particularly big and dirty individual, one who had been leering at the woman all night and had a easily available commcode.

<<SPOT @ Sophie [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:36] Sophie, pause search immediately. I need you to spoof the following message so it appears to have come from the female elf. Use this as an avatar pic {image 1} and attach the following pic as well {image 2}. No encryption, but do to the sensitive nature of this transmission, send it via Alfred. Then resume searches.>>

<<r0xY3LfSIrN @ GREAT Mac [Thursday 08/14/20:55:36] Hey hot stuff, come save me from this loser I need a BIG, real man to show me how to have fun {Insert image 2}>>

When it was handed off to Sophie, Naguel took advantage of all interested eyes, including Big Glen’s cybereyes, being on the suited elf to quickly scribble a note on a napkin. He folded it, and placed one of the shots on it. At the same time, on his HUD, Naguel watched the elf being dragged down the street to a nearby alley. Naguel flagged down a waitress, one with a clear tray.
“That woman there looks like she could use a cap� Naguel said, placing the napkin and the drink on the tray, as he gestured to Vanity. “Bring these to straight away her please.� He tipped her five nuyen, and, from behind his impassive shades, watched from the corner of his eye to make sure they got to the table all right.

Filthy Alley at the Dockyards, 10 meters down the street from Humpty's Dump front entrance, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:45

So much was happening at once it was almost too much for Krait's near-superhuman intellect to keep everything straight...almost.

Even as he'd given his ultimatum to the troll, his intercept of his Hispanic nemesis' commlink had yielded fruit, which he had skimmed as he spoke:

<<SPOT @ Sophie [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:36] Sophie, pause search immediately. I need you to spoof the following message so it appears to have come from the female elf. Use this as an avatar pic {image 1} and attach the following pic as well {image 2}. No encryption, but do to the sensitive nature of this transmission, send it via Alfred. Then resume searches.>>

The message contained an attachment, which included images of his two elven companions - one showing ample cleavage, and the other defaced with a drawn-on moustache and a word-bubble proclaiming "I'm a dork."

<<r0xY3LfSIrN @ GREAT Mac [Thursday 08/14/20:55:36] Hey hot stuff, come save me from this loser I need a BIG, real man to show me how to have fun {Insert image 2}>>

At the "one second" mark, Big Glen had - as if by some sort of act of tremendous self-mastery - removed his hands from Krait's shoulders and pulled his face back a bit. His visage was still inflamed with anger and frustration. "I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT! Look, don't send the message, okay. We can talk about how to make this right."

And then the elf's peripheral vision hit him from both sides, and his eyes were forced to jig right and then left. To the right, the south, he saw St. Pierre's head peak around the corner. To the left, the north, he saw an all-too-familiar human - bald with unmistakeable red eyebrows and goatee, wearing a denim vest that exposed his ornately tattooed arms - cross the alley mouth, probably heading for the bar's emergency exit.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:45

Even as he had edited the files and dealt with the waitress, Naguel had been watching the feed from his vehicle sensors outside on his HUD. From an alley down the street, two mismatched figures had walked quickly toward the bar, coming into sight shortly after his new minion had removed the problematic elf. One was a large troll in a vest, loose-fitting trousers, and cowboy boots, the other a small human in an oversized black leather jacket.

And although neither were showing colors, he clearly recognized the troll as Georges St. Pierre, leader of the Los Locos chapter north of Sea-Tac.

They approached the alley Big Glen had whisked the elf into. The troll peaked around the corner, and then looked back in the direction he had come, as if awaiting some sort of signal.

Locus Hotel Delta
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:46

Carla crawled into the driver's seat of the van, keeping her hand ready on the headlight switch and keeping her head low just behind the dashboard. She didn't want any thugs to spot her and get any funny ideas, so she tried to minimize her visibility.

Once she checked that the doors were locked, Carla peeped over the dashboard and kept her eyes fixed on St. Pierre. As soon as he reached the alley, she turned her gaze over to the front door of the club - as if she expected to see Paddy get tossed out at any moment.

The unmanned bike was still there.

Heeding Krait's reply, Carla switched her commlink onto Krait's tailor-made "Team Mode." The translucent HUD in her AR Glasses immediately vanished as her wireless connection was disabled.

"Damnit," she muttered; she had to resort to using the actual keypad and tiny display screen on her commlink.

<<One @ Team [Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:36]: Team mode confirmed. 3/4 - what's up in there?>>

Filthy Alley at the Dockyards, 10 meters down the street from Humpty's Dump front entrance, Seattle, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 20:55:45
Two - Multitasking-Mania
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 2), Moai passive (Signal 2)

FUCK! He shouldn´t be there in that damn alley -well he shouldn´t even be in that damn fucked-up Plex, but rather sit in his office back in Boston- he should at least be in some makeshift comando-HQ coordinating the action. Instead he was here in the middle of things. He even had to worry about trivial communication issues, because wolf-dude insisted to act first and plan later.
There he was, talking to a 400 pound hydraulic ram, while 'secondary target' waited inside, intoxicated and ready to be abducted. He had allready made up his mind and formulated a new plan on the fly -distract Big Glen, send team-instructions, lure out criminals with troll-conversation, have team extract secondary with backup covering their back and finally fast-talk the trog and the criminaly into beliving that the hispanic trouble-maker had tricked them all- well, at least it was a plan. However everything fell apart again, when primery entered the scene and now the one-time nervous wrack had to act really quick. FUCK!

While he lifted his hand slightly in a soothing gesture to the troll, he started life-streaming a message through his DNI as fast as he could...