Los Locos Van, Outside Coffin Hotel
Thursday 08/14/70 21:41:00

"Alright, let's move", Carla whispered to St. Pierre. She had just scouted out the hotel to look for any unwanted loiterers or onlookers. Having found the coast clear, she returned to the van to let St. Pierre haul Vanity's body to her compartment.

As quickly and quietly as possible, Carla and the massive troll navigated the coffin hotel in search of the room Krait had designated for them. As soon as the proper compartment was located, Carla punched in the passcode and St. Pierre dumped Vanity's crumbled form into the cell.

"Wait a minute," Carla whispered. She took a moment to adjust Vanity's body into a more comfortable position - one that wouldn't leave quite so many sores when the girl finally came to. However, just when they were about to leave, a small blip appeared in the lense of Carla's AR glasses. It was a message from Krait.

"Oh dear," she whispered. The chip found in Vanity's hair was a tracking device after all - or at least Krait strongly suspected it to be. And apparently, Krait didn't want Vanity getting found by the wrong people.

"We're being tracked," she explained to St. Pierre. "We need to leave now. Take the girl and let's get out of here." The troll willingly obliged and the two returned swiftly to the van waiting outside. Before instructing Bandito to take off, however, Carla had St. Pierre throw the tracking chip as far down the road as he could. He easily crushed the device in his hand before doing so.

Coffin-hotel near Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 21:44:00
Krait – Taking care of the cams ... again
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

John sighed slightly, when the necessity of yet another hack on the fly arose, but what had to be done ... he could just as well hack two hotels to provide a dump for Vanity´s possessions.

The one time defence attorney redirected the cabs destination and started his illegal activities. He didn´t want to arrive at the meeting spot with the ork while engaged in a messy matrix run, in case anything went wrong, so he set up the taxi, to drive him to the closest coffin hotel from the list he had compiled just a few minutes ago – one that he didn´t intend to hack. He just wanted to pick up some supplies before meeting with the ork.

The Hispanics bike would come back online any moment to e-mail it´s location to John, before minimizing it´s emission and waiting for instructions, and he wanted to be there as soon as possible, after that happened.

The coffin runs turned out to be as easy as the first one and John quickly established backdoors and camera-loops. This time he wouldn´t hang around to edit the cams life. The others might want to split up and make the two deliveries at the same time, besides, the elven face had other tasks on his ever growing list. Thus he created loop feeds for the cams instead, that would be good for roughly 30 minutes, masking the transition with some static. Careful not to miss any exterior sensors, the canned hacker purged the systems of all traces of his presence –except the yet unused backdoors- and left, sending instructions back to Ms Johnson.

Reservations have been placed with two coffin hotels, one for our guest, one for our guest´s possessions. You can find directions and door codes attached. Cameras are safe for 30 minutes from now. I´d advise you to either split up, making the two deliveries separately or at least dump the stuff first and our friend second to avoid further tracking.

The digital wonderland was a free for all, for those who had the right code. John had read about people spoofing their entire lifestyle, with only a weekends work to collect the necessary library. Of course it would be hard to spoof the level of comfort John had at his disposal, but still.

Content that the hacking had gone smooth, the tech emerged from his cab and walked down the side of the building he had ordered it to go to, while turning down his com and spoofing his access ID to avoid tracking. As he cleared the corner, he called up a new cab from a different company and scrolled through the vending-machines´ menus inside the unhacked coffinhotel he had just arrived at. He would go for some non-descript flats that would hopefully make him stick out less around the squatter´s den and for a strawberry-chocolate flavoured soy-bar, though he was only really interested in the cheap RFID Tag embedded in the wrapper. Picking up his stuff, he checked his new cab´s eta and the e-mail account that the hispanic´s bike was supposed to send it´s location to. He was also itching to sift through his data-search results, but he´d wait the minute or two until it was fully compleated.

Los Locos Van
Thursday 08/14/70 21:46:00

"Sorry gentlemen," Carla explained to the gangers in the front seats as she and St. Pierre barged back into the van, "we need to drop our friend off somewhere else."

She told Bandito the location of the new address, intent on dropping of Vanity's possessions first and Vanity herself second. "What's the problem with this place?" the confused Padre asked.

"The girl had a tracking device planted on her," St. Pierre explained calmly.

"Yes, and we have thirty minutes until the security cameras come back online," Carla added, "so don't hesistate to step on it."

Bandito was happy to oblige.

Abandoned Alley, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 21:30:00

Reaching the mouth of the alley, where Etain was hiding in the thick shadows, Conall gave her the warmest of smiles. He came toward her, putting both hands on her tiny shoulders and peering into her eyes with concern.

“You alright?�, he wask softly in Sperethiel.

Etain reached up, squeezing one of his rough hands with her's.

“I'm shiny brother, just shiny.� she answered back in the same tongue, brushing away a loose strand of hair from her delicate face.

Conall half opened his mouth, but his twin cut him short.

“Yes! I'm sure I'm fine!� she said with a playful smirk, having anticipated what he was about to say.

The young mage chuckled to himelf, throwing a casual glance back down the alley where the van was parked. He inhaled deeply, cooling his lungs with the night's air. Part of him still felt somewhat annoyed of how things had gone down. If they hadn't somehow been compromised by the hispanic man, everything would either have gone down smoothly... or would have gone down a little more in their favour. He couldn't quite figure out how they had been spotted... or even less identified. True, Krait and Etain did stand out, at least, in his own opinion. Krait for just being excentric, and Etain for being dangerously beautiful. But how the man had known they were there for Vanity and EJ... he simply couldn't wrap his mind around it. All he could think of was that someone had pinned them as looking for Esmeralda, and had decided to get involved. Either he had been part of Vanity and EJ's team... either he had been sent by this Kenji guy to cover his tracks. All in all, this was all shaddy busines, and too much cloak and dagger for him. What he would need for next time was a little more firepower. Close combat was the only honourable way to deal with these encounters... but back in the alley, the option to engage his prey at a range would have given him the edge.

Turning back to face Etain, Conall caugh her looking at him with a slightly annoyed stare.

“What?� he simply said with a shrug.

“Oh you know what. Stop fussing over it.� she said, rolling her eyes.

Conall did his usual grunt and frown. Even without the mana link that they usually had flowing, Etain could easily not only know what her brother was thinking... but usually, she would know it even before it came to him.

Stepping back a few steps, his back came to rest agaisnt the cold wall of the alley. He took yet another deep breath, looking as his sister with his head cocked to the side.

“How are....� he started, turning his face aside to look down the alley as Etain lifted her eyes to him.

“How are father and mother holding up?�

He heard her sigh deeply, and could feel her golden look slide down his frame and to a puddle near by.

“They're.... They're holding up... I guess.�

Ever since he had left the Emerald Isle, Conall had given almost no thought was so ever to his parents... or even to those he had been close to for so many years. He had never been one to miss “home� very much, he now believed that this feeling had been absent mostly due to the fact that, no matter how long her had ever been away, the certainty of being back was always there. Now it was all different. Every day, he woke up and couldn't count the days until he'd go back. This wasn't some sort of posh and fancy trip. This was his new life. This was their new life.

“Do you miss them?� she asked, hesitantly.

“I don't know.� he finally said slowly, after a long silence.

He turned back toward her.

“I don't know much anymore sister. You shouldn't have come for me....� he continued, a certain hint of sadness creeping in his voice.

It was Etain's turn to frown.

“Don't you even dare say that. I know you don't mean it.�

“This place isn't for you...�

She was now positively angry, her beautiful eyes clouding themselves.

“You had a life back there. You had a future. And you still have... I didn't have anything.�

“You have me.� she said, matter of factly.

It was Conall's turn to sigh. Etain left the wall she had been propped against, much like her brother, and came to him.

“I don't care how stubborn you'll be about this. Everybody knows I'm twice as stubborn as you are.� she said with a smirk.

Conall chuckled ever so slightly, shaking his head from side to side.

“It's just that.... this place isn't right.� he said, gesturing around the alley “This lifestyle... it changes you. I haven't been here very long, but I can feel something isn't right. Something bad is coming.�

“Well then, it's one more reason for me to be here!�

Again, he chuckled, finally shrugging his shoulders in a show of hopelessness. Down the alley, Krait was out of the van and conversing with Carla.

“Looks like the guy's finished...�

The twins headed down the alley, toward the van. Apparently, Krait had pretty much gotten the same thing out of Vanity than Conall had. Again, their boss didn't seem quite ready to cal the shots, and it was Krait who pretty much gave everyone their standing orders... except to the twins. Both elves simply stood there for a few seconds, identical in their silence. As Carla was about to hop inside the van, Conall cleared his throat, trying to catch her attention.

“Hoi, boss.�

She turned around.

“Yes Paddy?�

“Unless yer in need of some of our wee talents, I believe we'll be taking our leave for the night. Me sister has to mend her bruises, and I need some shut eye.�

“Will you be at the appartment?�

“Yes mam'.�

She gave him a smile, which Conall answered with a slight bow of the head. He turned, slowly walking down the alley to where he had parked his bike.

The night was mostly over, but somehow, in the back of Conall's mind, it didn't quite feel so.

Los Locos Van
Thursday 08/14/70 22:15:00

Being in a rush, Carla and the gangers weren't so careful this time as they dumped Vanity and her gear in their respective 'coffins,' but the operation went smoothly nonetheless, and the van was speeding off into the darkness with time to spare before the cameras came back online. Carla had no idea how Krait was able to pull these kinds of things off. She sent him a brief message confirming that the drop-offs had been completed.

Free of any possible listening devices, Carla finally asked St. Pierre what she had wanted to ask for some time. "Well," she began, "now that you know the relationship between Esmeralda's disappearance and that little firefight you told me about earlier, I'm sure you don't mind my asking whether there's anything else about that incident that you didn't tell me about."

Los Locos Van
Thursday 08/14/70 22:15:30

As the night had worn on, Carla had been thinking a lot about her future options. For a while, she thought she had built up a quiet, rather comfortable second life in her grandmother's barrio - one that would keep her clear of Knight Ridder and the inevitable charges against her for the murder of her parents. She never had to deal with anyone outside the neighborhood, and nobody outside the neighborhood ever had to deal with her. As long as the police didn't bust into the church clinic, she had little to fear.

Except, of course, for the ever present threat of the shedim attacks. That's what had driven her into this shady business with Miguel, the Black Cat, Mr. Chu, and all sorts of other strange characters, and now the integrity of her new persona Dona Carmen had been compromised. St. Pierre and Los Locos now knew of her nightly business, and her elven mercenaries now knew of her daily business. It was only a matter of time before word of her quasi-criminal adventures spread throughout the barrio, just as it was only a matter of time before stories of the "Ms. Johnson who doubles as a nun down by Los Locos turf" spread throughout the social circles of her mercenaries. Carla no longer had control over who knew of her business and whereabouts.

Not that she ever had such control, really. Thinking back to when she had started these nocturnal adventures, she recalled how Miguel seemed to know much too much about her situation. It was far too convenient that she had remained unharmed at the parish after all these months, and it was clearly all thanks to Miguel pulling strings - perhaps merely at the request of Carla's own grandmother. How pathetic it was, Carla thought, that after 25 years she still couldn't look after herself.

So what was she to do? Obviously, after coming this far, she was going to finish the job of finding Esmeralda. She'd get the cash promised by Miguel, pay the elves, and be a few nuyen closer to the Black Cat's requested sum. But then what? She was far too exposed and public of a figure as Dona Carmen. She needed to disappear again - find a place where no one knew her or even wanted to know her. But she also had to make a living.

Maybe one of the elves could help her? Krait was a loner when Carla hired him, at least as far as she could tell. Certainly he had to eat and sleep somewhere when he wasn't working for her. Certainly he wouldn't mind splitting the rent with a roommate, would he? Heck, with his tech-savvy and her medical skills, maybe they could set up a little sort of business. Perhaps as a result of her reliance on him throughout this search-and-rescue operation, or perhaps due to her sheltered upbringing, Carla had grown quite trusting - too trusting - of Krait. He was older than her, knowledgable, sociable, competent. She felt that she could rely on him as a professional, yet it was also his professionalism that worried Carla most. He seemed so far out of her league when it came to navigating the Seattle underground that she feared he wouldn't want anything to do with an amateur like herself once the pay ran out.

What about Paddy? Would he let her escape into the shadows with him, at least for a while? Having had rather muted emotions for as long as she could remember, Carla found Paddy's...intense behavior rather alarming. Yet, he also seemed somewhat simpler than Krait. Carla could never really tell what Krait was thinking, but it was clear to her that Paddy's affection for his sister was genuine. It was clear to her those old romantic notions like "loyalty" and "honor" meant something to the mage. Carla doubted that she could survive Paddy's lifestyle for very long, but if she did end up living with him for a while, she was certain that he wouldn't be a threat to her.

It was doubtful that Paddy would assent to such an arrangement, though. He had his sister, after all, and why would he want anything to do with anyone else? She was young. She was beautiful. She was graceful. Goddamnit - since when had Carla become such a petty, envious girl? Maybe it was because she had abstained from drugs and alcohol her entire life out of some bullshit, pseudo-scientific sense of "bodily purity" only to end up with a mechanical mockery of an arm on her right shoulder. Meanwhile, little miss elven princess manages to magically mend an almost completely broken body without instruments, without medication, without three years of medical training, and all while coked out of her fucking mind!

Carla relaxed her jaw. It really wasn't fair the way Carla judged Etain so harshly. To be honest, Carla hardly even knew the girl. And as an aspiring physician, she should have percieved Etain's drug habits as a serious health issue rather than as a serious character flaw. In any case, living with Paddy inevitably meant living with Etain as well, and having more people always resulted in more complications.

As the Los Locos van continued to rattle down the roadway, headed for home, Carla continued to consider her options.

Cab on the move to Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 21:45:00
Krait – Closing in on the Fortress or Putritude
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

As he was taking a seat in the new cab, that would take him to the meet with the ork, John´s agent notified him about the completed data search regarding the Doc Waggon incident in the Barrio. He eagerly opened the compilation on a virtual screen slightly off- center in his field of vision. At the same time, he started a new search on the stranger he was about to meet with. The man who had gotten himself involved in a melee-turning-gunfight with no apparent reason and who had even agreed to guard the stolen bike for two whole days.

Somehow, this ork reminded him of Cob Parker, even the situation made him relive the armed assault on him, that was only stopped by the man which would later become his bodyguard and trusted friend. If not for that incident, John might never have gone corporate, he might never have ended up in the shadows.

In this new life he had no one left he could really relate to, which might have been the cause he started to emphasise with complete strangers. That unknown ork, Georges St. Pierre, Violet, Kayla, Belinda. He fealt lost and alienated. It made sense to establish a network of contacts, but truth be told, he did start to care about people he had not known days ago. I. e., he did care about Belinda getting his present beyond a professional level and that scarred him.

Forcing his attention back to the tasks at hand, the elven shadowrunner went on, sorting through the information dug up by his software mook, to get a comprehensive picture, before he had to check out the first results on that ork and then meet the very same in some desolate location, to get a better look at the Hispanic interceptor´s bike.

Fortress of Putritude
Thursday 08/14/70 21:45:00


Jack checked the action on his weapon for the fifth time.

"Dat elf sure takes his time," he said.

He switched his PAN to active mode and scrolled through the news channels.

Trideo feed of attractive female asian human

>>Hello and welcome to KOMO 24 hour news, Seattle's #1 source for breaking local news. I'm Kelly Hu and here are today's top stories:

An Aztechnology chemical tanker jacknifed creating a 15 vehicle pile up south of Tacoma bringing traffic to a standstill as far south as Lacey in the Salish-Sidhe.

Traffic was stalled for six hours, as Seattle and Aztechnology response teams secured the scene to prevent any possible chemical contamination.

Aztechnology personnel declared the truck's driver, Alfonso Rivera, dead at the scene. Three other motorists were killed and six injured in the incident. Seattle authorities are not releasing their names, pending notification of their families. <<

"Fraggin' Azzies!" Jack muttered, "Bet dey did it on purpose. Bet dey snuffed da driver too."

>>In a related story, the Salish-Sidhe council has filed a formal complaint with the U.C.A.S. regarding the frequency of traffic delays spilling beyond the borders of the Seattle metroplex. According to tribal spokesperson, Norman Coyote Breath:

Trideo feed of wirey Native American man in an immaculate business suit

There is no reason why Seattle can't keep the traffic moving. They obviously are not interested in the smooth flow of goods and services into and out of the metroplex. They are definitely not interested in the problems and dangers these incidents create in our lands.<<

"Whatever," Jack muttered, switching his PAN to passive mode.

He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and used it to clean his Hammerli 620s.

A clean weapon is a happy weapon, he thought.

The Barrio
Thursday 08/14/70 22:34:30

The van rattled and clanked to a rough stop in front of the church/clinic. Although for the nocturnal gangers it wasn't even lunchtime, they sensed that their work for the neighborhood's young Florence Nightengale might be done for the evening. As Carla got out, St. Pierre leaned towards her. It was as if he had been reading her thoughts - "I will do my best to keep this evening's events quiet, but," - and he glanced back at the two boys that followed him with a shrug - "well, I will do my best."

Outside the Fortress of Putritude
Thursday 08/14/70 21:55:00

Krait's matrix search on the mysterious ork/bear came back just as he pulled to a stop outside the filling station where he knew the bike was. He assumed they would still be together.

The first thing he'd gotten, from his picture of the ork, was an SIN - Jack Random. There was a commcode - it matched the one he'd been given - and a local address. Race, age, gender, nothing surprising. The SIN carried a personal protection (and weapon) license. Again, no surprise. But digging deeper on the ID, it was clear to the elf's practiced eye that the SIN's history was perfunctory - it lacked that je ne sais quoi that separated a real history from an imagined one. Again, no surprise.

But all that was scooped off the databases in the first 47 seconds. The real search - trolling through MeFeeds and credit services, looking as much for absence as presence - turned up a number of images that matched the ork, and from all over the world. He had clearly traveled extensively in the past few years, and (based on the pictures acquired) always to major cities. And very often with a slight Japanese man in an immaculate Armante suit. Again, the ork's stance consistently said bodyguard.

So the ork was indeed a bodyguard, and apparently with the same client for quite some time. Until very recently, in fact. With publicly available data on the ork wearing thin, the search switched to an indirect inquiry, looking at the client. But in this he quickly reached a dead end - this one's identity was well spoofed. Aside from pictures here and there, nothing could be found, aside from a few shadow boards identifying him as a corporate face. One of these posters said he represented Shiwase, another said the Malaysian Independent Bank, yet another Eastern Tiger. The other four all associated the Japanese man with Renraku.

Armed with a little information on the bear he was about to meet - damn, why did he keep seeing the ork that way - even now, in his mind's eye, he had trouble seeing anything but a huge gray grizzly. In any case, armed with this information, he cast his mind back to the results of the previous search, the one on the incident in the Barrio, where Esmeralda had somehow rescued a troll DocWagon EMT from what appeared to be a paramilitary hit.

Media reports from that night said that Los Locos gangers had attacked a DocWagon ambulance, and that all four crew members were casualties. Whether wounded or slain, the reports did not say, giving the usual excuse of waiting for notification of families.
But after those initial reports, there were no more - a total media blackout on the incident. Crude, thought the elf, since such a move would set off as many alarms as it silenced. Unless the perpetrators actually wanted the incident known....

If that was correct, the local underworld boards - not to mention medical and Hispanic community chat boards - would carry some speculation or fact that would help him unravel the cause of this seemingly random attack.
In the Hispanic community, Los Locos strenuously denied any involvement in the attack. They had no response to queries about what exactly had happened, but they stuck to their story that they had had nothing to do with it.
The DocWagon chats had a lot more to say - and the fact that their comments hadn't been erased convinced Krait that the attack had indeed been meant as a warning.
There had been only one survivor of the attack - referred to only as Warren, but from there it had been child's play to track down the family name of Hollanger - a troll in charge of the crew's security. Apparently his survival had been a miracle - not only shot dozens of times, but eyes and ears gouged out, and repeatedly run over by some sort of truck - definitely a message being sent.
Moreover, in DocWagon's ICU, someone had then tried to poison him, along with two others in the same ward. He had survived, and then was moved a friend to an undisclosed location. The other two victims had been killed. The kicker was that both those two victims had been rescued just a few days earlier by Warren's DocWagon team - both from a certain extra-territorial facility.
DocWagon personnel got the message loud and clear - no more medevac's from the Matsuki Precision Equipment facility.

Cab on the move to Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 21:56:00
Krait – Meeting at the Fortress or Putritude
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

Standing in front of the ladies´ rest room, John wearily checked the waves to confirm the bike´s location behind the demolished looking door. For a last moment he strained his senses to pick up any signs of danger, but he couldn´t come up with anything unusual, so he positioned himself against the wall beside the door and gave the secret knock sign, the theme of a popular orxploitation trid show, or at least a very similar sounding rhythm. For another tense moment he stood there in his freshly cleansed, yet cheap recycled flats, trying to make out the one clue that would make him react fast enough, to survive the pending ambush.

Krait heard a bolt slide back, then the door opened just enough for him to see the ugly Ork from the bar. The Ork's weapon was ready and pointed at him, but the one time board-room shark kept his cool long enough, not to overreact, or even flinch at the barrel staring his way. After a quick, tense moment the Ork whispered:

Grizley: "Good. Ssssshhhhh, don't want to wake da neighbors, ya know?"

Then the door closed again and Krait could hear objects being moved in the room beyond. The door quickly reopened and Krait could see and smell the restroom beyond.

Grizley: "Sorry for da stink." the strange Ork said. "Da maid ain't been here for awhile, ya know?"

The bike was leaned against the wall opposite the toilet and sink, ready for Krait's inspection. While the elven tech gave the mangled machine a more through visual check up, he instructed his comlink, to get to work with the bikes brain again, still not failing to note the huge ork casting another look out of the door, before closing it shut. When the presumed former bodyguard had re-holstered his premium sidearm, the face extended a gloved hand towards him for a firm shake and another respectfully evaluating look straight at the ugly metahuman.

Ms. Johnson: “Thanks again for your help. I am pleased everything went well so far. I will check the bike for any clues about our common adversary, then we can see to it, to make a profit off the scraps, while making them vanish. You don´t happen to know a mechanics crew in this part of town, that dosn´t bother with too many questions?�

The Barrio
Thursday 08/14/70 22:35:00

"I owe you," an exhausted Carla replied to St. Pierre. "Please let me know how I can make it up to you and the boys. You know where to find me."

They exchanged brief farewells and the van took off down the street. Once the gangers were out of sight, Carla retrieved her cloak from the church and headed to her apartment down the street. After all the thinking she had done that night, she really didn't feel safe in this neighborhood anymore. Up until now, she had thought that that her special relationship with Los Locos had been due to her status a the neighborhood medic - she didn't owe them anything for their special treatment. But now she was certainly in their debt, and she didn't know exactly what kinds of favors they would ask of her.

Sliding her keycard through the lock and opening the front door, Carla was greeted with an unfamiliar living room, which suddenly reminded her that she had arrived at her apartment, which was actually Paddy's apartment for the duration of his employment.

The Barrio
Thursday 08/14/70 22:35:00

After getting back to the flat, Conall had put Etain to bed. He wasn't quite sure if she was tired from all the spell slinging she had done, or if it was the crash down from whatever she had been on. He still hadn't touched a single word upon that topic... but he didn't think he was ready for it. Odds were, it was something she had fallen into without her own accord. The young shaman hadn't had the courage yet to ask her all the details... But deep down inside, he knew all too wel something had went wrong. It simply had to...

Barechest, Conall leaned forward to peer at his own reflection. Hands resting on the sink's edge, he turned his face from side to side. His usual healthy glow was now mostly gone; and he hadn't shaved in some time now. The smooth perfect skin he had sported around the Tir was pretty much gone. In his own opinion, he looked a bit yellowish around the eyes.... but that was probably just his rotten opinion of Seattle seeping into his pores. He felt as if his eyes sockets were starting to sink deeper and deeper inside his own skull. His military crew cut had already grown out into something more civilian like.

Running some water over his hands and unto his face, Conall straighened back up. The burn scars he had inherited from Patrick had all healed up well: they were still visible, but they were far from disfiguring his body in any ways. Actually, the young elf was somewhat proud of his scars. They show he had seen battle, and lived through them. What did bother him a bit was the pronounced black and blue bruise he had just over his abdomen. It had a slightly oval shape to it, and seemed to be seeping into the surrounding tissues. With a bit of reluctance, Conall brushed the tip of his fingers agains't it... but he felt no pain what so ever.

Sticking his head briefly in the hallway, he peered at Etain's form, still fully clothed... and snoring like a pig on the bed... on top of the covers. He smiled and chuckled to himself. Somehow, some things had yet to change. His hand was going for the shower controls when he froze dead on the spot. Just outisde the door, he heard something creak. He knew very well others lived in the building... but no one had any reason to come this damn close to the flat's front door.

And no one had a maglock key to open the door just like he was hearing. Someone had followed them. Vanity's people were coming after them. Or worst.... The O'Donnell's had found them...

Conall's instincts kicked into high gear. None of his dweomers were on, and it made him felt sluggish. What did worry him a great deal more than being caught half naked in a tiny room was the fact that Etain was defenseless. And unaware of the threat. He did all he could. As soon as he saw movement through the half opened door of the bathroom, he leaped out. The young shaman had barely time to register any detail about the intruder. He or she was about his height, but much smaller build. Nevertheless, Conall knew all too well he had to use whatever element of surprise he had, so he simply struck without thinking much more.

Head low, he tackle the intruder straight into the wall with his shoulder. As soon as he had him agaisnt the wall, his right forearm pushed as hard as he could behind his neck to lock him into place, while his free left hand attempted to grasp the person's wrist. Conall would have probably gotten Carla into quite a painful arm lock... if he hadn't suddently recognized her.

For a second, the young shaman froze on the spot, still holding the woman locked agaisn't the wall. Suddently shaking out his daze, Conall quickly released Carla from the hold.

“Mam, I'm...� started to quickly blurt out Conall, suddently very concient that his quick temper had almost snapped the woman's neck.

“My apology.� he finally said, bowing his head briefly.

Throwing a rapid glance toward the bedroom, Conall's attention went back to Carla as he spoke in a half whisper.

"May I ask what in the bloody hell you're doing here... mam." said the young shaman in a tone that sounded more surprised than annoyed.

Fortress of Putritude, squatter's den, dockyards, Seattle
Thursday 08/14/70 21:58:00


Jack gave the elf a firm handshake, "Names Jack, in case ya missed it back at da bar wit all dem bullets flying around," then let him return to his work with the bike. He placed his back to the wall in such a fashion that if the door suddenly opened he would have a clear shot. He then slowly removed his pistol from its holster.

Whispering, he said, "Don't get jumpy, just keeping tings safe from da locals, ya know? I'm sure you and your crew got your own deal going and I'm not looking to interfere wit what ya got going on. I could help if ya tink ya need it. Not like da Johnsons is beatin' a path to my door, ya know?

I'll bet you need cred same as da next guy, but I'm really hoping to get a piece of dis bike. Bullets ain't free, ya know?"

With that Jack split his attention between the elf and the door. He didn't know much about bikes but it couldn't hurt to keep an eye on whet the elf was up to. It felt good to be guarding someone again. This was an honorable thing to do, especially considering the way the hispanic sammy had pulled his machine pistol on the elf. Mr. J would be proud.

The Barrio - Paddy's Flat
Thursday 08/14/70 22:35:12

Oh crap! Carla thought as soon as she recognized her mistake. She couldn't see anyone in the living room (i.e.: 90% of the apartment), so perhaps her entry hadn't been noticed. Or perhaps the twins weren't even home yet. In any case, she could just quietly leave the apartment and pretend that this had never happe-

A tidal wave suddenly crashed into her, or at least that's what it felt like. Someone had slammed her up against the wall, and then someone else was forcing her down by the neck. Dear god, had an attacker been waiting inside the apartment for Paddy? Or even worse, had someone been waiting for Carla herself, expecting this to be her apartment? Whoever it was, he seemed to be reaching for her wrist, and Carla was prepared to fry the fucker with her shock-hand as soon as possible.

"Mam, I'm...a," the attacker spoke. It was Paddy. "May I ask what in the bloody hell you're doing here... mam."

It took Carla a moment to catch her breath. Paddy's attack - or defense, as was more likely - had gotten adrenaline pumping through Carla's veins, making her spout off sentences in rapidfire fashion.

"Dear me, I'm very sorry," she apologized as she straightened out her cloak, "I mean, I was just stopping by to make sure you had gotten home safely, but, uh, I hadn't thought to knock first - what on earth could I have been thinking? I mean, well, clearly I hadn't been thinking," she rubbed the back of her neck slightly as she looked at the man standing in front of her. With his shirt off, she had a very clear view of his very muscular build. His torso was decorated in old scars and bruises, reminding her that she had very little idea of what Paddy's history comprised of. She continued her blabbering, "Anyway, it's clear that you managed to get home safely after all - you don't have any injuries needing treatment, do you? That's a nasty looking bruise you got there - I have some ointments down at the clinic - oh, nevermind, I'm sure your sister can take care of it - how is your sister, by the way? Is she well? Nevermind that, I know you take good care of her; anyway, it's good to know you've got the place guarded against intruders, so I'll just be on my way now, so get some rest tonight and meet me at my lunch hour tomorrow afternoon - or send me a message if you need to contact me sooner - I imagine we're closing in on our target, so you'll be free to go in a very short period of time - not that anyone's really forcing you to stay here anyway...well, good night now. Sorry for the intrusion."

Carla draped the hood of her cloak over her head and scurried for the door.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 21:59:00
Krait – Meeting at the Fortress or Putritude
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

Mr Johnson: “We will split the spoils fairly, but first we need to find someone willing to pay for it�

When he noticed the ork expected him to turn his attention to the bike again, the elf started issuing commands to his comlink via slight hand gestures, fingers running over an invisible touch screen. He wouldn´t have to actually move his physical limbs to do so, the imagination of these movements was enough to manipulate the flow of data, but it made people more comfortable and it made them expect him to move his hands while dealing with the matrix, which was a great boon, when he wanted his work to stay unnoticed.

Mr Johnson: “So, you are from out of town. How long have you been here?�

The Barrio - Paddy's Flat
Thursday 08/14/70 22:36:16

Leaning slightly in the bathroom's doorway, Conall simply let Carla spit out everything she had to say. He simply looked at her, with a smirk and a held back chuckle. As the woman made her way toward the door, the young elf peered down the hall, checking if Etain was still sleeping. When Carla stepped out, probably to her surprise, Conall followed her out.

Leaving the door barely ajar behind him, Conall spoke somewhere between a whisper and a hush.

“Sorry to bother ya mam, but....� he started, giving a subconsciously fuelled look over his shoulder, as if he could see through the appartment's door.

“... is there something that can be done for my sister's....�

The elf seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“ for her condition?�

Fortress of Putritude, squatter's den, dockyards, Seattle
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:00



[b]Jack watched the elf dubiously. He'd seen enough hackers to know that the elf's finger motions around his comm link were most likely superfluous.

"A fair division, I like dat. Been in town about tree days now. Kinda gettin' bored, ya know? I'm used ta bein' on da move. It ain't in my nature to be stuck in one place for a long time anymore. Maybe someday I could show you some a my pictures of Berlin or London. Man I been lots a places, but never here."

He cracked his neck and turned his gaze to the battered door. "I bet you know all kinds a stuff about me, even dough we just met. Your dat kind a operator. What about you? Why was you and your crew down at dat drek pit getting shot at and run over by motorbikes?"

He ran his fingers over the polished surface of his Hammerli 620s. "I promised myself dat next time I come to town, I'm packing my predator, ya know? Wit some a my leftover APDS rounds."

He sighed and looked at the ceiling, then hung his head on his chest and breathed deeply.

How did I get into dis? All dis subtafooge is a bit more dan I need tonight, ya know?

He looked back at the elf, "Dis gonna take all night or what?"

The Barrio - Paddy's Flat
Thursday 08/14/70 22:36:20

"Oh, you mean her substance dependancy?" Carla replied. She paused for a moment, trying to consider an appropriate reponse to the elf's query.

"I...you know, I've observed a number of patients who've managed to overcome that sort of thing. They weren't cured with a drug, and they weren't cured simply by going cold turkey. In most of the cases I witnessed, it required convincing the patient to take a whole new outlook on life - something that would make him or her look forward to getting out of bed each morning, eager to live rather than drift around in a biochemically-induced fog all day. Sometimes people need religion or philosophy to inspire them. Sometimes people need a hobby to enjoy. Sometimes people just need somebody to love..."

Carla looked over the street surrounding them. The buildings were old and crumbling. The streets were littered with trash. The air faintly reeked of sewage and garbage. And somewhere in the distance a man and woman were shouting at each other in Spanish. It was all a very far cry from the high-class rehabilitation facilities she had visited back in New York as a med student, and Carla honestly wasn't sure whether anyone would want to get off drugs if they were living in an environment like this.

"...In any case," Carla continued, "you should start by telling your sister that her habit bothers you, but don't get started until you're ready. This sort of thing will require as much commitment from you as it will from her."

The two shadowrunners exchanged farewells shortly after that, and Carla returned directly to Esmeralda's flat - intent on getting some much needed sleep.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:20
Krait – Meeting at the Fortress or Putritude
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

Mr Johnson: “I´d like that – seeing some pictures. I´m not as aquainted with this plex as I´d like to either, yet. We have been looking for a friend tonight, that had gone missing and we needed some information from those people. I wish it had gone down more smoothly, though.�

The elf cast a short look on the ork, leaving it open whether his involvement had benefited or harmed the situation more, but there was no reproach in his eyes.

Mr Johnson: “The bad news is, that this little critter is a tough cookie, so it will probably take all night to deal with it. The good news is, that it´s a stat of the art on-board node probably worth the waiting. Besides, finding the right person will most likely take longer than that, anyway.�

With that John tensed for a moment, as he tried to bring the vehicular processor´s alarm squealing to an end, by mimicking the soothing voice of it´s commanding persona.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:30

The bike's system did indeed prove as stubborn as Krait remembered. He realized he was going to need a new approach.

It was about then that Jack's hairy pointed ears picked up the faintest metallic clink right outside the door, immediately followed by an insistent hissing sound....

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:43:00

Carla wearily opened the door, stepped inside, and wondered if she hadn't gotten the wrong apartment again - inside the room a shadowy figure sat waiting on a chair, legs carefully crossed, the lit tip of a cigarillo casting an eerie light across a carefully trimmed goatee.

"Good evening, doctor," said the cultured voice of Don Ricardo. "I have come to check on your progress."

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown

Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:35


Jack heard the clink and the hiss. Gotta be a grenade, gas or smoke.

"Dis ain't good. If you got a gun or somtin' get it ready. I gotta open da door now."

Jack saw the entire trap play out in a split instant. He would open the door to a wall of smoke. Somewhere beyond, masked from view, the Hispanic sammy from the bar would either open up with full auto fire into the restroom with something a lot bigger than a machine pistol, or worse toss in a frag grenade.

How could I fail so badly. What a stupid place to hide. Shoulda known da spic would come lookin' for his bike. I fraggin' hate bikes!

Pistol ready, he threw the bolt on the door and pulled it open to see........

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:43:30

"Oh, Don Ricardo!" Carla jumped slightly at the unexpected sight of him. "You startled me for a moment there."

She paused, expecting him to say something in return, but soon inferred that he had no such intention.

"Well, we've made very good progress. At the rate we're going, I'd expect to locate our dear sister within a day or two. Although to be honest, the chances of her being alive look quite slim."

Carla paused again, hoping this meeting would be more like a friendly conversation than a field report. Don Ricardo, however, remained silent.

"Is there something else you wanted from me, Don Ricardo?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:43:40

"Please sit down," he said. Few men could have pulled such an invitation off - having appeared uninvited in someone else's home - but the Don was one of them. Once Carla was seated, he answered her question.

"No, no. I desire nothing further than for you to complete the task I have set for you. I desire it very much. I have feeling, partly justified but largely inexplicable, that it is much more important than any of us realize." He paused, as if carefully considering his next words. "You are highly educated, and appear to me to have a somewhat worldly outlook, Roman trappings aside. Let me ask you something. Do you believe in evil?"

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:36

Pistol ready, he threw the bolt on the door and pulled it open to see a familiar Hispanic figure, Ingram Smartgun X hanging from a strap across his chest, and the unsurprising grenade in his hand. His face was obscured by a SOTA gas mask. The sphere he held, poised to toss, was still hissing, but nothing visible was coming out of it.

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:43:44

Noticing that she hadn't moved from the door since being greeted by the distinguished gentleman, Carla obeyed Don Ricardo's request by removing her boots and taking a seat across from him in the small living room. Given his esteemed position in the community - not to mention the bounty he was offering her for this job - she had no intention of crossing Don Ricardo during this surprise visit. Assuming (perhaps naively) that he wasn't here to hurt her, she attempted to appear unphazed by the fact that he had broken into her residence. After all, given her quasi-nun-like persona, she should be nothing short of hospitable towards her guest.

She couldn't help wondering what Don Ricardo was talking about as he spoke to her; sure, the connection of Esmeralda's abduction to some sort of gang squabble was rather unexpected, but how serious did Don Ricardo really think the consequences of that could be? Worst case scenario, Carla imagined, was that Los Locos's enemies would come wreck some havoc in the barrio; that would certainly be quite unpleasant to the local residents, but did Don Ricardo really care that much about protecting the people of this tiny, poverty-stricken ghetto? Come to think of it, what was a rather well-off man like Don Ricardo doing in a place like this anyway?

Despite Don Ricardo's comments regarding her education, Carla suddenly felt very stupid.

"Let me ask you something. Do you believe in evil?" the gentleman asked.

"Do I believe in evil?" Carla asked incredulously. She found such questions ridiculous; nobody could deny that the world was full of nasty, malicious, downright shitty people. To her, whether you called such people "evil" or "deranged" or any other alternative was completely inconsequential; what mattered was how you dealt with them.

Carla had been asked the very same question in the past - namely in a philosophy seminar during her undergraduate years - and had responded in the negative, not because she had an overly rosy perception of reality, but because she felt the word "evil" carried too much metaphysical baggage. The ensuing argument quickly devolved into a debate over semantics which, in Carla's opinion, was both unenjoyable and uninformative. She had learned not to make the same mistake again.

"Why, I believe in evil just as much as I believe in the cruxifiction and ressurection of our lord Jesus Christ," Carla replied after a moment of thought. "But what is all this talk of Sister Esmeralda's disappearance having wider implications, Don Ricardo?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:15

The rise of the Don's left eyebrow was all that revealed to the young woman that the evasiveness of her response was not lost on the older gentleman. But he did not press the point.

"You may think that I met your grandmother in a serendipitous manner, that, as most people that find each other, fate and chance proximity allowed our paths to cross. And that is largely true, for although I knew of her existence long before I first saw her, it was only after our first conversation that she became more to me than a name, more than just a relation to an acquaintance.
"What I am saying in far too many words is that I have long had business dealings with your uncle. He is still alive, by the way, I know that much. And because of my association with him, I also know many details of the unpleasantness that brought you here."
He puffed on his cigarillo in a way that let her know he was not quite finished.
"The unpleasantness that followed you here."
Another puff, a longer silence.
"I will ask you another question. Do you believe in coincidence?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:20

Carla had suspected something like this, but actually hearing the words come from Don Ricardo made the information sound all the more shocking. How did he meet her grandmother? How did he meet her uncle? What was his business with this little neighborhood? And did Don Ricardo know anything more about her situation that Carla herself did? There were probably lots of ways Carla could have responded to this revelation, but without thinking the first thing she blurted out was:

"Is my brother alive?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:30

"Yes, barely," the man answered smoothly. "I fear, however, that the only danger he faces is from his own appetites. As for those that seek your uncle, they look at your brother and assume he has little value as a hostage." He shrugged. "Perhaps if they grow desperate...But any other danger to your family, you seem to have brought with you."

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:36


Now Jack was pissed! There would be no witty action trideo repartee and no escape for the dishonorable hispanic samurai, if Jack had his way.

Anger fueled action. Jack immediately kicked the grenade out of the hispanic's hand sending it away from the restroom. He then leveled his pistol at the hispanic's fancy gas mask and began squeezing off rounds. His malevelont glare only adding to the ugliness of his features.

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:30

Carla leaned back in her chair - her whole body relaxed as she mentally dropped her guise of a pious church servant. But before speaking any further, it occurred to her that Don Ricardo - whatever he knew about Carla's history - didn't necessarily know so much about her character. There was no use in revealing the full extent to which she had been dishonest with Don Ricardo, so she might as well keep up the act of Dona Carmen's personality (not that it was far removed from her own...) Straightening her back and folding her hands in her lap, Carla continued the conversation.

"Well, I apologize deeply for my dishonesty, Don Ricardo - evidently you understand why I felt it necessary to lie about my identity. But why are you revealing all of this to me now? Do you want me to leave - to spare the parish the troubles of my family? Is that what this is all about?

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:40

"Quite to the contrary, my dear. As I just said, I am filled with an ever-mounting sense of the importance of your mission. Ergo, my wish is not for you to leave but to stay and see it through...wherever it may lead. I am speaking frankly to you now because my feeling of foreboding is as yet vague, amorphous, leaving me nothing against which to direct my considerable resources. I was hoping that you, knowing that I know of your...unique situation...would speak to me frankly, and perhaps we could shed some light on why I am feeling this soul-deep urgency regarding your errand."

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:45

"I have every wish to be frank with you, Don Ricardo" Carla lied - at least partially. There were some things she'd rather not tell him about, assuming that he didn't already know of them. "But what exactly do you wish me to tell you? We've learned that Sister Esmeralda was involved in some very...disturbing activities; she suffered from an eating disorder and she participated in very...violent sex-clubs. Her abduction was apparently payback for intervening in a gang feud involving Los Locos - that could very well be the cause of your trepidation, though I can't imaging how any of this gang business relates at all to my situation."

"Of course, I can also imagine threats directly related to my situation which would cause you great trepidation, but I've yet to find any evidence linking them to Esmeralda or her capture..."

Carla dared not utter the word 'shedim' before Don Ricardo.

"You're in a much more informed position than I am when it comes to local politics."

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:55

"I very much hope you are correct, that there is no relation between this affair and your own...issue. I am, however, completely unaware of Esmeralda's intervention in any sort of gang conflict. And I would know about such a thing. And then there is my sense of...foreboding. But, if you say that there has been no crossover at all between the...incidents...that plague your life, and the search for the sister, then I suppose that is some comfort."

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:44:55

"To be honest, I don't know if 'gang feud' is really the proper way to characterize it," Carla explained. "St. Pierre - the local troll fellow from Los Locos - told me that about six months ago a strange group of...military professionals of some sort requested that he and his gang clear out the streets of our neighborhood so that they could ambush a Doc Wagon vessel that would be passing through later that evening. Sister Esmeralda happened upon the incident as it was taking place, and she quite courageously saved one of the victims - much to the displeasure, evidently, of the perpetrators. They hired some gang down by the docks to kidnap her as an act of punishment."

Carla took a deep breath.

"As for the more 'forboding' emotions you are feeling...my hired hands and I experienced a demon attack quite similar to the one we experienced outside the church some weeks ago. I imagine that the attack was due to the nature of the location we happened to be at...or more likely, a result of my presence there. But I highly doubt it was connected to Esmeralda's case in any way..."

"Forgive me for my queries, but I feel that I could be much more helpful, Don Ricardo, if you informed me more about my own circumstances. I would deeply appreciate it if you would reveal to me the manner in which you became acquainted with my family...if you could tell me what you knew of my Uncle's dealings...and why you've been so generous towards me all this time. Certainly you knew the risks of accepting me into your community - and I could never repay you or thank you enough for such kindness - so why did you do it? And why all the secrecy and faux ignorance on your part? I implore you, Don Ricardo-"

She bit her lip, having said enough.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:42


Having kicked the grenade out of the dishonorable samurai’s hand, Jack gave a brief thought to continuing the melee by pistol whipping his opponent. Naguel wisely back pedaled to put his superior firepower to work for him, firing burst after burst into the restroom.

Jack began firing head shots hoping for a quick kill. It was not to be.

Da only way dis guys better dan me is dat damn machine gun and his armor

Jack bobbed and weaved as best he could but there was no room standing inside the doorway and he had to keep his weapon steady for a kill shot. APDS rounds ripped through his armored vest like a hot knife through vegetable oil spread.

OK better ammo too. Frag, dis guy must have a big bankroll. Keep steady. No time to faint or any odder weak drek.

In the left corner of his vision he saw the red numbers of the ammo counter ticking off the rounds: 4 nothing. 3 nothing. 2 nothing.

1 A hiss of air and spurt of blood.

Naguel’s hand went to his face. He turned tail to run spraying one last burst behind him.

Preoccupied by the need to reload Jack did not move quickly enough and caught more APDS rounds.

When do I get my lucky shot? Dis fragger has got to go down today!

Wounded again and now on the brink of death, Jack’s training took over for him. He slammed himself against the restroom wall and began reloading. As APDS rounds slammed harmlessly against the cinderblock wall, Jack’s spent clip fell clattering to the filthy restroom floor. He then rammed his last full clip into the pistol.

Stepping back into the doorway, the crosshairs of his smartlink trained squarely on the back of the fleeing samurai’s head, he squeezed the trigger only to see in the left corner of his vision

JAM JAM JAM .


UNBEFRAGGINLEIVABLE!

He carefully ejected and reinserted the clip, now seeing the tracker reading up the clip:

1 2 3 4 5 6


Dats better.

Jack quickly took stock of the situation. His practiced nose detected the scent of neurostun gas in the alley to the left. To his right was a fence and running perpendicular to the gas station was a long alley leading out to a street, through which Naguel ran, weaving through dumpsters and crates. Then the cowardly samurai turned left at the corner to make his escape.

Like hell you gettin away

Jack’s attemted sprint to close the distance was more like a casual jog, but with a lot more bleeding and heavy breathing. Pistol ready, Jack turned left at the corner, ready for anything.

The Barrio - Paddy's Flat
Thursday 08/14/70 22:36:20

The way Carla spoke, the terms she used, and the mannerism she employed confirmed what Chu had previously told Conall. His employer was definitely a medical doctor. As he closed the door behind him, the young elf began to wonder what a woman like herself was doing not only in a part of the city like this one... but in an underworld like the one they were now a part of. There was always the odd chance she had lost her license to some unforgiving act... or that she genuinely wanted to help this community.

Getting back into the bathroom, Conall shook his head from side to side, trying to dislodge the thoughts from his head. For some reason, it hadn't really occurred to him before tonight, that he didn't know at all who these people he worked with were. He hadn't cared at all at first, because he only had to care for himself and knew very well they couldn't be a real threat to him. But he had no real way of knowing what danger they could become for Etain.

He started the shower, and it wasn't long before the tiny, and poorly ventilated room, was filled with a thick cloud of steam. Who were Krait and Miss Johnson. Where were they from, and what had brought them to this sort of life? Letting the hot jet of water pummel his face, Conall closed his eyes. But then, after all, they probably didn't know much about him either. He knew all too well that his entire existence had been zeroed back home. Every single record of his previous life had been locked away somewhere. The day he had left, his father had told him that one day, he would return... That even if he was forbidden to bear the clan's name, he was still an O'Neill... and that one day, he would be the one to lead.

Conall slowly ran his two hands into his hair, trying to wash away the muck of the city. This was just another trial. It was another long test that would make him stronger in the end. This new life... Wolf had guided him into it by helping him save his sister. He had been with him every single step of the way. It was just another trial... It would shape him into the leader and the warrior the legends of Ulster spoke of.

He opened his eyes again, turning his face downward and letting the water trickled down his spine. To his own surprise, and although he would never admit it, part of himself was starting to feel sorry for all those who were living down here, in the proverbial gutter and shadows. It wasn't a life anyone really deserved. He had at first seen his exile as a punishment, but then, maybe it was something else. Maybe the Seelie Court had chosen to send him into Seattle, of all places, so that he could make a difference. Maybe they had a plan for him... something he didn't yet know of . After all, he had only been here for a few weeks. Yet, said few seeks already felt like years on end. Back home... No... This was home now. Back in the Tir, the school year hadn't even started. Some festival was probably starting, or ending, as it was always the case. It was strange, how you never realized how important something was, until the day it was taken away from you.

After stepping out of the shower and towel drying himself, Conall went back to the now steam covered mirror. With the rough palm of his hand, he wiped a clear streak away, the mirror throwing back a smoky and distorted vision of himself. Like he had done only moment ago, the young elf turned his face from side to side, inspecting his face carefully for... Well, for something he wasn't entirely sure what it was. With a sigh, he clicked the lights off, and exited the bathroom for the darkness of the bedroom.

Stopping only to pull the covers over Etain, Conall went to the lone sofa. He sat there for a brief moment, in the dark, still partially wet and dripping of water. He sat there, in total silence, the nocturnal sounds of the night filtering in from the partially opened windows. Throughout his life, Conall had often stayed up at night, listening to the sound of the rain, the crack of thunder, or the whisper of the wind. These sounds were a whole other thing. Nature had no presence here. It rained chemicals, and roared of gunfire. The only thing whispering in the nights was the drug ramblings of junkies and the distant wail of sirens. Some day, somehow, nature would take back her hold, Conall was sure of this. Someday, something would come and punish cities like these for breaking all the laws of what was good and righteous. Of what was beautiful and proper. A bad farce. This was all a grotesque joke.

Finally, lying down, arms crossed behind his head, it took him a long time to finally find sleep. And when he did find sleep, it turned out not to be the sort he was... expecting. When his eyes were finally closed, and the world around him faded into a void, Conall felt a million times more awake. He felt alert like never before, a rush of the unknown filling him. Standing alone, all alone in the darkness, Conall felt a sort of fear creep into him. It wasn't a fear of loss, like he had experienced some weeks ago when he had then realized he'd part ways with his sister. No; it was something else. It was something that felt almost alien.

For a brief moment, Conall thought he had actually awoken, but when he tried to sit up, he realized there was simply no way for him to will over his body. He was dead locked frozen. He then heard a vaguely familiar sound, that of a four legged creature's paws hitting the pavement. The echo that ensued made him feel like he was standing in a giant, yet empty room. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, and yet nowhere. It was, yet wasn't. And then, finally, He stepped in front of him, as if He had simply wandered under one of Belfast's streetlight.

He stayed there, mouth opened and breathing steadily, a pink tongue handing out ever so slightly.

“I wasn't expecting you here this soon pup� He said to Conall, observing him with a certain detachment.

Conall felt his own face frown slightly, yet he kept a rein on his temper. This... This wasn't anyone.

“Funny enough...I was under the impression you had pulled me here.� said Conall with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Wolf sat in the light, cocking he's head slightly to the side.

“You should know that only you rule your acts. You are the Master of your hunt, not I.�

He took a brief pause, sniffing the air.

“Have I ever struck you as one to impose my will on others?

This time around, Conall did frown.

“Isn't war an imposition of one's will on others? Aren't you and I warriors?�

“Yes we are my pup, but war is not our business. You should know that, considering your... other interests� said Wolf, the later part with a certain disdain.

“War,� he continued, “are waged by soldiers, not warriors. It concerns countries, tribes and societies. It doesn't concern our pack. Nor should it concern yours.� continued Wolf.

“But isn't warfare what he are bred for?�

“Combat, my pup, is never to be mistaken for warfare. We warriors battle for our pack. We hunt and prowl to provide for them and to protect them. We regulate the order of things by insuring that no large predator can take hold of our territory.�

“Why are you telling me this? Why now and here?�

“You are growing fast, young pup. Soon, very soon, you will shed your coat for something new. As you grow, the burden of your pack will grow. Never forget that being the Alpha does not have only advantages. It carries a heavy responsibility.�

Wolf got back up on all four, briefly looking off into the darkness... looking at something only he could see. Conall felt parts of his body starting to come back to life. A tingle ran up his spine and into his skull.

“I have done my very best to uphold your teachings and ideals. I have done all I can to uphold your ways.�

He turned to him, his gray eyes driving straight to his very soul.

“Have you?� Wolf voice said, thundering into his head and bringing a sharp pain forth behind his eyes.

Conall swallowed painfully. His knees buckled and he fell to Wolf height. It suddenly seemed to the young shaman that the gray wolf that stood in front of him was growing in size. With each passing moment, he became bulkier... and menacing. When Wolf spoke again, his voice sounded like a deep and angry growl.

“Have you protected your pack?�

“I have! I AM!� cried Conall.

Some distance away, to Conall right, a dim light began to shine on a form. As the light grew the young shaman quickly recognized his twin sister. He looked back toward Wolf.

“The rot of this city is running into her veins. It is eating at her core. This vile artificial creation is killing her, murdering bits of her every single day. You know of this!� he said in an accusing tone. “Yet, you have done nothing. You're love for your pack is putting it in danger.�

Tears filled Conall's eyes, as he felt his fists tightening.

“....I... I know... I am sorry...�

With a roar, and in what seemed like a blur to Conall, Wolf was standing on his chest. His back struck the ground painfully, making the young elf grunt out in pain. He felt His jaw wrap around his exposed throat.

“WHAT IS THIS WHIMPERING?�

Fangs scratched his skin.

“HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF OF MY KINE? YOU ARE NO WOLF!�

One of his paws scratched his chest, drawing warm blood.

“A scared dog maybe. A house pet for your whore of a sister maybe.� continued Wolf with disdain.

Conall heard a guttural roar come out of his own throat. Something he had never heard. An animalistic voice that he had never fathomed could come out of himself. Grabbing the dire beast that was pinning him to the ground, the young elf literally tossed aside the gray wolf, sending him skidding out of the light and into the darkness.

“How are YOU lecture me!� said Conall, anger fueling his voice, as his knuckles turned white. Without even thinking it, he had taken his fighting stance, most of his strength backed into his leg.

“You might be almighty Wolf; you might be a God in a realm I can't even imagine... but I will break your spine and rip your jaw apart if you speak of my sister again.�

Wolf slowly walked back into the light. Conall stood his ground staring at him through the two slits that his eyes had become.

“Excellent. That is more the spirit. I am not your Master, pup. I am but your guide. You are your master, never forget that. You decide your own faith and walk your own path.�

Conall slowly eased out of his stance... feeling a strange calm seep from Wolf's voice and into his being.

“I have walked in front of you only to steer you clear of the ways that others would have imposed on you. Now, you are ready to lead forth.�

“Are you abandoning me?� said Conall with a certain concern.

“Never.� said Wolf, coming closer to him.

Standing next to the shaman, Wolf looked ahead of him, toward an horizon Conall had never noticed before. A valley of green, wind making the tall grass dance a slow ballet, stretched forward. A small path trailed up and into a thick forest. It smelled of dew in the air. The sun was shining. Wolf looked up toward him. Conall looked down toward the one who he had seen as his master for so long. He wasn't his master anymore. He was his friend now. As Conall started to walk forward unto the trail, Wolf walked next to him, following the same pace.

They walked for a time Conall couldn't grasp. They walked a distance that he couldn't imagine.

When they finally reached the forest, the young shaman stopped, looking next to him toward Wolf.

“I can't see ahead.�

“Neither can I.� said Wolf, with what sounded like a playful tone.

Conall chuckled slightly.

“Well... I'm glad you'll be by my side.�

“The honor is mine.�

Drawing a breath in, as if a new life had been pushed into his body, Conall sat up on the sofa. His breath was fast. His hearth was trying to beat out of his chest. His palms were sweaty. His hands were trembling. As he reached for his chest, he felt four fresh new scars. Wolf had left his mark on him. The shaman smiled to himself. A strange calm washed over him, as he turned to look over toward Etain.

All will be fine sister. I promise.

Through the window, dawn was already starting to show itself.

The Barrio - Paddy's Flat
Friday 08/15/70 07:03:23

With a yawn that was enough to unset his jaw, Conall stretched his entire body. The visions that had dominated his sleep made him feel tired... but in a good way. He felt slightly sore and beaten up all over, but in the way he usually did after a full workout. When his bare feet connected with the floor, he felt a shiver run up his legs. His whole body followed with a brief shake. A few feet off, Etain was still sleeping like a rock. Conall had no idea how long she had actually been in Seattle... odds were it was probably the time zone switch catching back to her.

Rubbing his eyes for a moment, the young shaman yawned once more. Somehow, he felt like this day was going to be... interesting. Everything around him seemed to shine of a different hue. Everything sounded and smelled different. It wasn't drastic... But it was just a little hint that something, somewhere in him had changed. He could feel it down to his bones.

Grabbing the pile of clothes that rested on the floor next to his makeshift bed, Conall quickly got dressed, throwing his only pair of jeans, and a clear no trouble plain black t-shirt. After running a hand into his hair, roughing them up in no particular order or look, the young elf stood up quietly, grabbed his commlink and headed out the door. Odds were, Etain wouldn't be up for some time. He didn't quite know the neighborhood, but people around here had to eat. It was obvious he wouldn't find anything that would fancy their usual taste, but something mostly organic would make a change of pace from all the soy they had been forced to eat.

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:45:05

A slow smile spread over the Latin gentleman's face. "Perhaps to reveal too much would place an overly great responsibility on your shoulders. Or it may be that the truth would be met with scorn more than understanding. It certainly is true that only a fool reveals all of himself to anyone, or much of himself to someone he barely knows. By this very conversation, I see that you know these things."

He gathered up the coat that was laid neatly over the arm of his chair. "I leave you with one final question. What resources do you require to see this search through to its conclusion?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/14/70 22:45:15

Carla didn't hide the dissatisfaction on her face as she silently listened to Don Ricardo's response. She felt she had acted like a fool in front of him - blabbering everything she and her partners had worked so hard to discover. And Scorn? What could he be up to that would bother her? If Don Ricardo were to reveal that he had been using her as a pawn in part of some grand conspiratorial plot...well, Carla doubted she could even believe such a story.

Lacking assertion as usual, Carla didn't protest Don Ricardo's secrecy and instead stood up to walk him to the exit. Opening the door for him as he prepared to leave, Carla answered his question. "I need just a little more time to answer that question more precisely, but from what I know now, we'll most likely need...weapons. If you stop by the clinic anytime tomorrow afternoon, I will have a final answer ready for you." Keeping up some semblance of courtesy, Carla thanked Don Ricardo both for his offer and for his company. She only wanted moments after he had left the apartment to activate her AR-display and send a message to Krait and Paddy:

One @ Team: We have an opportunity to get some extra resources. Send me a list of what you think we may need by 1200 tomorrow. If you want to deliver it in person, you know where to find me.

For a moment, Carla pondered what Krait was up to anyway. Had he gotten back to wherever it was he lived? In any case, she suddenly realized that she was both physically and emotionally exhausted from the mini-adventure she had been on that night. She hadn't really thought about it while it was happening, but it was almost a miracle that her entire team had made it through that firefight largely unharmed. Glancing at the time, Carla noted that it was a bit early to be getting to bed, but who knew how much sleep would be able to get in the next couple of days?

After removing her glasses and gloves, Carla collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:46
Krait – Panic Hispanic PAN-ATTACK
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

The moment he noticed the ugly ork listen up, John knew something was amiss. Had he been too unattentive? Had he taken too little precautions? Obviously and he could well imagin what awaited them behind that door. If it had only been about money, the elf had certainly taken a more cautious approach, but the navigational log files in that bike´s auto pilot could well hold key information that would lead them to the missing nun´s location. Now the technician might well have to pay for that sort of recklessness. For a second he wondered what the rest of the team was doing at that very moment, wishing he could be in their place.

Then the ork exploded into door-opening, grenade-kicking, gun-firing action. The first thing that caught John´s eye after the Hispanic fighter´s face, was the smartgun hanging from his shoulder. He lost no time scanning the waves for any signals from it but failed to come up with anything. Visually and wirelessly checking for anything else to exploit, he didn´t come up with anything, except the two comlinks he already knew.

At that point the Hispanic was already grazed and running, but the ork had caught some bullets, as well. This battle evolved way faster than the last one, too fast for the face. He slammed against the wall and slid down to the floor in relative safety behind the bike, as the wireless Matrix unfolded around him in full VR.

There where the two familiar access IDs of the hispanic´s hidden comlinks. Having limited time, John went for the easy prey first, aiming his Agent at the generic Renraku personal PAN Icon. The high-end expert-program sliced through the off-the-shelf firewall as if there was none at all and John´s Persona entered the node.

The inside of the comlink was just as bland as the outside and the amateur hacker´s chiped software-skills quickly recognized, what his agent confirmed split-seconds later. Most of the Iris Orb´s settings where still on default.

>>access alert status:: none
>>query:: databomb utility running:: none
>>access active subscription list:: shades /w imagelink, earbuds

Finally something, he could use, but he didn´t want to give away his presence, yet. He set the analyze program to auto-detect and –scan all users and icons. For the moment it turned up nothing interesting.

Sifting through the file registry for a moment, he found turned up low-rated Scan, Edit, Browse and Analyze programs, as well as an ID/SIN with driver's license for one Gabriel Victor. Addresses and age and all that stuff where probably fake, but the data-miner glanced over them anyway, for later recall.

Next, he hunted down the access account files, to edit in two new hidden admin level backdoors, before he would call up the security log files and delete any signs of his intrusion, getting ready to leave and concentrate on the harder task.

Alley near squatter's den, dockyards, Downtown Seattle
Thursday 8/14/70 22:01:45

Lungs burning from the effort and body wracked with painJack, turned the corner of the alley. He saw Naguel and raised his pistol. His weapons AR read, DISTANCE TO TARGET: 50 M. Then the coward was around the next corner.

Frag dammit. Gotta get this punk before he gets to his car.

His mind flashed back to his corp training. He could hear the combat coach in his mind:

"When you need to run fast pump your arms fast. The faster you can pump your arms, the faster your legs will have to move to keep up"
Gotta pump dem arms Jack. Gotta pump dem arms.

Actually sprinting now, Jack's pace increased considerably. It was an effort of sheer strength and determination and he hoped like hell that at the next corner he would get his shot.

Least I got da fragger runnin like hell. I'd run like hell if I was chasin me!

Street near squatter's den, dockyards, Downtown Seattle
Thursday 8/14/70 22:01:45

Two lefts in a row. Da fragger's tryin to get back to da elf! Can't let dat happen.

Jack turned the corner and found the coward Naguel much closer at this point.

He stopped and raised his pistol, bracing his right hand on his left forearm to steady his weapon. Distance to Target 35M He had a solid lock with his smartlink. He exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

KILL SHOT!

Naguel's head snapped forward, feet still propelling him forward until his body collapsed onto the sidewalk.

Jack hustled forward to the body, muttering as he jogged, "Dat's what you get for ruining my suit you muther fragger!"

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:01:49
Krait – Picking up the Pieces or a Latin Lullaby
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

Before John started to hammer his agent against the much harder Firewall of the hispanic´s second comlink, he took a moment to get his ally some edge. The technician quickly concoct a mix of intensive audio-visual stimuli to pipe through the subscribed glasses and earbuds and gave the former bodyguard a direct call, without going over a provider, since the ork was still in signal range. He could have just let the show lose, but he didn´t know anything about the fight´s current solution and he didn´t want his only tool to help go up in a useless poof or announce his virtual presence needlessly.

While he waited for the ork to pick up, he slipped out of full VR again. Just as he wanted to start working on the other comlink, the guardian of the trashed bike picked up.

Mr Johnson: “Need a distraction for our friend? Just say when!�

Gray Bear: “No need sir, da threat has been nutralized.�

Mr Johnson: “Allright, see you then.�

That was quick, one point for the trog. The elven technician cut it short, as he already had other things on his mind. Change of plans. Now that the primary threat was gone, he had to make sure to evade any secondary ones, the fire-fight might draw to them.

With quick and precise mental commands, John made his com scan for the local Lone Star frequencies, to intercept and decrypt the ambient cop chatter.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown


Thursday 08/14/70 22:03:49


Jack, quickly checked the street for witnesses. Nobody, or at least nobody that cared.

Dis here's a tough town.

He grabbed the corpse by the left hand and dragged it into the nearest alley. Then he pulled up his mapsoft and plotted his course back to the restroom.

"All right den," he said to the corpse, "you and me gonna take a walk."

He managed to pick up the corpse and carry it over his left shoulder, to leave his right arm free to wield his pistol if necessary.

Wracked with pain and breathing hard every step of the way, he finally made it back to the restroom.

Now dat was a long walk

He dumped the body on the now crowded restroom floor and shut the door behind himself.

"Maybe you could get some clues or whatever offa dis," he said, pointing to the remains of the trecherous samurai. "I'd leave da gas mask on if I was you. Probly da only thing holding his head together by now, ya know? Maybe you could look for tracking stuff too, in case dat odder guy comes lookin for him."

Jack set to looking over the weapons, starting with the Ingram X. He looked for biometrics and then to see if it had improvements over the stock model. Maybe he had more APDS. That would be a score indeed.

Being new to the game, Jack was certainly looking to improve his arsenal any way he could.

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:05:49


They began combing over the body.

"Dis guy musta been a boy scout or sometin, ya know? Look at all dis gear! No wonder he couldn't outrun a wounded ork."

Jack found the machine pistol that Naguel used at the bar. He manually removed the clip and began reloading his expended pistol clips.

"I spent a lot a ammo on dis fragger, good ting he's payin me back!" Addressing the elf he said, "Hey, if ya wouldn't mind, maybe you could use dat dere medkit to patch me up a bit. I'm kinda leakin fluids over here, ya know?"

The Barrio - Esmeralda's Place
Thursday 08/15/70 8:00:00

"No more drinking!" Dona Carmen scolded in Spanish, lightly rapping her patient's forehead with an old Bible. The patient - a Senor Rodrigo - was a large, athletic, mustachioed man in his late twenties - not much older than Carla herself. He was one of the few competent plumbers in the neighborhood, and he was also an alcoholic. Earlier that morning, Rodrigo had stumbled into the clinic with multiple glass shards in his hand and a terrible hang-over.

Rodrigo protested, "But it was just a little-"

"-a little is too much for you," Dona Carmen replied sternly.

After a moment's pause, Rodrigo chuckled and put on a big smile. With one hand neatly bandaged and the other holding a baggie of mild pain-killers, Rodrigo was all ready to go, so he figured he might as well humor the doctor and get on his way. "Oh alright, Dona Carmen; if you say no more drinks, then no more drinks!" The doctor, however, wasn't prepared to let the young man go so easily; she leaned in close so her face was just inches from Rodrigo's.

"You think that young bride of yours likes seeing you like this?" she whispered. "You think she will stick around forever just because you're married now? That girl can have any man she wants - and since you haven't been able to get her pregnant yet, senor, I see very little stopping her from packing up and leaving the moment her patience wears thin. And believe me, you are testing her patience."

The smirk had been wiped clean from Rodrigo's face. He clearly hadn't considered the possibility that his wife could just leave him, but worse was the fact that Dona Carmen knew about his...impotence issue. Had his wife told the doctor about it? Was that her way of punishing him? Was all of this simply his wife's sly way of telling Rodrigo that enough was enough? He gulped before answering, "...O-okay, I'll try to cut the drinking, Dona Carmen."

"Good - I will see you at Sunday services, senor."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So was a typical snapshot of a typical morning of Carla's life over the past couple of months. Much to her surprise, she had found that she was getting a certain sense of satisfaction out of treating patients, especially patients she knew and saw day to day, week to week, both in and out of the clinic. She wasn't just fixing broken parts anymore - she actually saw herself sometimes (indeed, only sometimes) making a positive difference in the overall quality of a patient's life. As far as Carla knew, nobody could do that with a single magic 'trick.' But as she had concluded the previous night, Carla couldn't afford to be in a position where she actually got to know her patients for much longer. She had to disappear - again.

Still rolling the events of the previous night around in her head as she worked, Carla considered what she could or should do before nightfall. She still hadn't gotten word from Krait as to his whereabouts, and for all she knew he may have learned some vital new information since last night. Carla decided to just focus on her day job until lunch break - at which point she could touch base with Krait and Paddy.

Ladie's Restroom, Squatter's Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown

Thursday 08/14/70 22:10:49


Having reloaded four pistol clips, Jack took off his shredded suit jacket, shirt and armored vest. Some of the APDS rounds had truly penetrated and only Jack's superior ork physique had kept him from becoming another SINless sprawl statistic.

The elf took a slight break in his hacking to break out the med kit and do some quick first aid on Jack.

Jack: Thanks omae. Not bad for someone dat don't know first aid.

Krait: Sorry I couldn't do more.

Jack: Dat's all right.

He put his bloody shredded shirt back on. Then he put on the cowardly samurai's armored jacket and pocketed the shock gloves.

Jack: I don't normally wear stuff right offa da corpse but I kinda need some protection right now, ya know? Plus it's gettin kinda cold out.

Jack returned to searching the remains of Naguel. He looked at Naguel's gloves hoping they might be useful for climbing, but they were AR gloves. Then he started piling up those items he wanted for himself: both firearms, all clips and ammo, and all of the climbing gear.

Jack: So let's get serious here. Dat's da stuff dat I want and you and your friends can have all da rest, including my share of da bike. I don't mind pointin out dat if I had just stashed da bike somewhere and let you know where it was it would be gone now or you woulda found it and he woulda found you and you'd be dead now, ya know?

Here's what I think. I think you guys was a bit short a muscle back at da bar and your lucky I showed up and dat drek-for-brains dere tried to play dirty so I jumped in on your side.

So you could call me a nice bit a luck and let me walk outta here wit dis stuff. In which case, I'll catch a cab back to my place and heal up on my own. I'm a fast healer, ya know? And I know how to forget things.

Or, you could try to get dat van back here to pick us up and take us someplace closer to your crew. I bet dat van's got room for da bike, da drek head and alla his stuff. Den maybe I could rest up dere and you wouldn't need to depend on luck for your combat muscle next time you get in a dirty fight, ya know? Den maybe you could really crack into alla dis techno stuff and get what you really lookin for in a nicer working space.

Just my way a thinkin. It's your call. Take me or leave me. Wadda ya say?

Ladies´ Restroom, Squatter´s Den, Seattle Dockyards, Downtown
Thursday 08/14/70 22:11:00
Krait – Prepairing to relocate
PAN Icon offline, Custom hidden (Signal 3), Moai offline

[22:01:55, 14.08.2070]<<Encrypted signal detected! Initiating decryption. Please wait ...>>

John wearily peaked out of the door, while he waited for the ork to return, the progress bar of his running decryption creaping forward all too slow for his taste. Breaking the encryption was only a matter of time.

[22:02:04, 14.08.2070]<<Decryption in progess. Please wait ...>>

Even the most sophisticated algorithms for encrypted communication couldn´t stand against a Heinrich Maneuver backed up by a decent processor and at least semi-professional decryption-routine for long. Hard encryption could delay the deciphering of files for a few days at best, but the equally excessive processing-time needed didn´t make it feasible for signal encryption. Still those few seconds could make a difference. John´s light-amplified telescopic sight had no trouble making out the former bodyguard coming down the alley.

[22:02:04, 14.08.2070]<<Decryption in progess. Please wait ...>>

Switching to infrared, the elf noticed that the limp body on the ork´s shoulder was already starting to cool out. The sight called up unpleasant memories of the night before, but pushing them aside, the technician concentrated on the surrounding, trying to pick up any hints of danger. The decryption was nearing it´s inevitable end. Anyway, the trickier part was to catch on to the signal, before it was lost by changing frequencies.

[22:02:10, 14.08.2070]<<Decryption completed. Intercepting wireless signal.>>

Hit! The agent´s electronic warfare autosoft had definitely been worth the investment.

<< “... have a suspected 14 on west Marginal, red mercury comet. Surveillance drone dispatched. �>>
<<�Dispatch this is patrol P17. Red mercury spotted east-bound on south-west Spokane. Does not follow instructions to pull over. GridGuide driver-override failed, we have a 20.�>>

<<�Alright P17, sending in support to block at east Marginal.�>>

<<�Patrol F9. Investigating 19 in south-west Admiral Way 205. Resident claims to be armed, requesting 99 to check the scene.�>>

<<Sorry Dave, all spookies out. Take it slow, I´ll send one in asap. Negotiator can get online in 5.>>

As his impromptu ally came in and slumped the lifeless body on the floor, closing the door behind him, and starting to search the Hispanic with John, the kept monitoring the air for any signs of trouble. As far as he could tell, Lonestar had not noticed the shoot-out. He didn´t know all the codes, but with his experience at the public procurer´s office in boston, he would have remembered the ones for violent crimes and their surrounding area hadn´t been mentioned either. The local audio-sensors would probably not have been sophisticated enough to pick up the suppressed auto-fire and the area´s priority was not high enough for the analysis-software to filter out single shots. Still, he started a search for Lonestar Security codes and procedures, just to be on the safe side.

Mr Johnson: “I guess the gas mask isn´t in any working condition anymore. Still keep an eye on the body. If it twitches, kill it again. I had an unpleasant run-in with a pack of shedim recently and I wouldn´t mind not to relive it in the near future.�

On the fighter´s request, the elf put the medkit to use, once they had searched the dead stranger thoroughly. He did his best to patch up the wounds. It probably would have been more effective to let Ms. Johnson have a look at him, but the ork didn´t seem too fond of the idea to jump locations without having the bleeding stopped at least temporarily.

[22:10:00, 14.08.2070]<<Search completed:
Code Number Situation
01 Emergency
02 Corp War
03 Terrorist Threat
04 Homicide
05 Riot
06 Magical Assault
07 Armed Robbery
08 Assault
09 Cannot talk – Emergency back-up request
10 Rape
11 Abduction
12 Robbery
13 Burglary
14 Auto Theft
15 Trafficing
16 Drunk or Disorderly
17 Soliciting
18 Indecency
19 Domestic Dispute
20 Pursuit in progress
99 Astral back-up request
00 Officer down – Medical assistance request

additional results ...

Just as the former lawyer had recalled it. Knight Errent´s codes in Boston had been no different. As the muscle for hire suggested to relocate and team up for a bit longer, John genuinely responded in kind.

Mr Johnson: “I am grateful for everything you have done. As far as I am concerened, you proved your proficiency and professionalism to me and I will suggest your addition to my runner´s team. Ultimately, they will have to decide whom they want to take in, however. Anyway, I´m sure I can find us some shelter for tonight and set up things tomorrow. Just let me find some transportation for us.�

On that note, the elven technician unshered his agent to search for some easily hackable taxi or delivery van in the vincinety. Not hacking the ride was no option, since they couldn´t afford to be put on tape with the load they where hauling.