Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 09:04:30

Don Ricardo smiled wanly. "Of course I will forgive your forwardness."

He replaced his water glass in a holder in his armrest.

"Now, as for your financial situation, I am not sure how that places you 'in my hands.' If it is employment you are seeking, I could arrange a set of credentials that would allow you to practice medicine legally here in Seattle, although from what I have been told, that profession is no place for you despite your training. As for other sorts of employment, some of it can be most lucrative on a short-term basis. However, I have a modest economic theorem I have found to be true in certain vocations." The man's diction and vocal control would have put veteran voice actors to shame. "It goes something like this - any reward offered is worth approximately 25% of the associated risk. In other words, however tempting such methods of earning may seem, they are four times as likely to end in your own death - or worse - than ever to result in your being paid."

Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 09:05:00

Carla noted Miguel's evasion of her original question, but she didn't want to press any further. Perhaps her grandmother would be more informative.

"What would be the ramifications of practicing legally? Too public? Too many background checks? Or something else?"

Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 09:05:30

The goateed gentleman gave her an almost disappointed look. "Please let me assure you that background checks are a minor obstacle. No, I think we both know why working closely with the sick and injured is inadvisable. I am surprised things have gone as smoothly as they have at the clinic - but the alternative is no care at all, so I have not intervened."

He glanced out the window. "Ah, once again my driver has shown the consideration and foresight of bringing us to your home. Please consider the things I have said about alternative lines of employment. Mr. Cat is convinced they are the best course for you. I am not so certain, but it may also be the case that I am not objective. In any event, it is a decision for you to make. If you do not have my number, the priests do. Good day."

Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 09:05:40

After Carla stepped out of the car, she tried to squeeze in one more question before he drove off.

"Wait! When is a good time to contact you?"

She certainly wouldn't want to interrupt his...night sessions with Carmen.

Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 09:06:00

The man leaned forward from his seat to look up at Carla, standing on the crumbling curb, one hand on the door and one on the roof of the limousine. His eyes softened and he was back - although his voice became no less formal, his tone was once again the gentleman caller she'd first met at her grandmother's home, not the fixer that could connect her with famous shadowrunners and protect her from the Ghost Cartels.

"My dear - I very much want to help you. You must pardon if my means appear indirect, but I made certain decisions long ago about how best charity was dispensed in this world. But please rest assured, that my door is always open to you. Any time at all. Now go and rest and think about the things I have said."

And suddenly Carla noticed Don Ricardo's driver was standing beside her expectantly. She took a step back, and he closed the door. She watched as he got back in and drove away, the sleek black of the limo contrasting wildly with the filth and disrepair of the barrio street.

Carla
Sunday 7/13/70 22:30:00

Carla had no trouble getting Miguel's commcode from one of the priests. However, when she finally got a chance to contact him later that night, it occured to her that sending an electronic message might not be very safe. She sent him the following message:

Don Ricardo -

I think it would be most appropriate for us to continue our discussion in person rather than over the airwaves. If any developments arise during the week, I will be perfectly willing to discuss them with you next Sunday at our usual time. Should you need to contact me sooner, I am available everyday during my lunch hour from 1:00 - 2:00 PM. I can be found in front of the church.

God bless,

- Sister Carmen

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:00:00

Don Ricardo's limo pulled up in front of the church exactly at the appointed time the very next day.

The driver got out and opened the door.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:00:00

Carla had been sitting outside the church chewing on her meager lunch, as usual, when the limo pulled up. After the driver opened the door, she took a look inside the vehicle before stepping inside.

"Good afternoon," she greeted Miguel as she took her seat.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:01:00

The door closed, but the driver remained standing by the car. Don Ricardo was all business.

"No one has seen or heard any word from Sister Esmeralda for over a week. Her service to this community is both selfless and invaluable. And she is a Bride of Christ. I do not desire to attract the sort of riff-raff that responds to an open bounty - it is bad for her, for the neighborhood, and for the Church. I sense this is a matter best handled quietly. I have decided to allocate financial resources to having her found. I was pondering who best to assign this task when I received your message, which I inferred to mean you had decided to pursue the alternative sources of income from which I attempted to discourage you. So I am willing to offer you Y20,000 if you can return Sister Esmeralda to the safety of the parish. A bonus if she is intact. Half payment if all you can return are her remains. You may enlist whatever help you wish, but I wish to keep things very quiet, even by this neighborhood's standards. And whomever you work with, I will only be dealing with you. Are these terms acceptable?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:02:00

Carla was speechless. She had thought that Miguel's jobs would be pertaining to her skills, at least to some degree. Maybe illegal cybersurgery for some shady characters, or something along those lines. But what did she know about missing persons?

"I'm...I'm glad you thought of me for the job, but do you really think I have any chance at solving this sort of thing? I mean...I'm eager for work, I truly am Don Ricardo, but with our sister's life at stake...might a professional not be a better choice?"

On the other hand, in terms of safety, this might be the best offer she'd get for a while. The nature of the case itself wasn't illegal, and that alone removed certain risks. And if anything required some sort of force, she could hire a mercenary - or "shadowrunner" - for that.

Carla checked her commlink to see if Mr. Chu's commcode had registered from his previous call. Though she didn't plan on hiring the Cat himself, surely he could put her in contact with some less expensive shadowrunners, or at least help her set a foot in the community.

"I apologize," Carla quickly continued, "I didn't mean to doubt your judgment. Surely you wouldn't have offered me the job if you thought it was detrimental to Esmeralda's safety. I gladly accept."

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:02:30

"Very well then," replied Don Ricardo, "I will not keep you a moment longer. My driver will provide you with some seed money to help you with any initial expenses that may come up, although of course the amount will be deducted from your final payment. Good day."

And as if the driver could read the gentleman fixer's mind, the door opened and a hand was extended to help Carla out of the vehicle. Once she was back on the curb in front of the church, the driver promptly shut the door and then handed her an envelope, keeping the action screened by the car and their two bodies. Then he got back into the car and drove off.

Carla didn't know exactly what was in the envelope, but in her mind it might as well be a note declaring her Carla Sanchez: Shadowrunner.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:02:30

Carla kept the envelope hidden under her cloak until the limo was out of sight. When she entered the church, she took a seat in the rear pew and looked around to make sure no one was too close by. Satisfied with her privacy, she took out the envelope and opened it.

As she peeled it open, she pondered why Miguel seemed less than eager for her to take up this kind of work. Unless he was willing to just give her 100,000, how else was she supposed to make money?

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:02:30

With nearly the full hour of her break remaining, Carla decided to get a head start on her investigation. A logical first step would be to take a look around Esmeralda's apartment. She folded the envelope back into her pocket and quietly slipped out of the church, hoping Esmeralda's door wouldn't be locked.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:04:00

Carla discreetly entered the small building at the rear of the church that housed the parish contingent of sisters in four small apartments. She went up the stairs to the second floor and found the door she knew was Esmeralda's. There was a good maglock with a keypad, red LED blinking regularly.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:10:00

Seeing the lock on the door, Carla opened up the envelope Miguel had given her and looked at the slip of paper. After tapping in the characters written on the note, the lock clicked and Carla opened the door.

She wasn't exactly sure what to look for - anything that might indicate Esmeralda's last activities might help. Did she keep some sort of journal around? Might there be any sort of future plans written somewhere? Perhaps there was evidence of a forced entry or violence in the apartment. Somehow, Carla had trouble believing Esmeralda would put up much of a fight with an intruder.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:30:00

Indeed, examining the door and the lock she saw no signs of forced entry. Stepping inside and quietly closing the door, it took only a moment for the low-light feature on her glasses to gather up what little ambient light there was and convert it to a usable real-time image. It allowed her to see well enough by the sunlight that found its way through the heavy curtains that covered the windows, but the image lacked texture...she'd been hoping that the room lights were keyed to the door, but like most people's, it seemed the house terminal was waiting to sense Esmeralda's commlink before turning everything on. It took a minute, but Carla eventually found a manual switch in the bathroom - always the best place to look since it was the one place a lot of people didn't take their comms.

Once she got some lights on, she started taking a good look around the place. There was a front room, kitchenette, bath, and bedroom - all small.

Against one wall in the front room was the main telecom unit, complete with an extra-large trid screen, which was odd because there was nowhere from which to watch it - no sofa, no chair, not oven a floor cushion or zabuton. Carla looked for impressions or unworn patches of carpet where a piece of furniture might have been, but in doing so all she found was that the floor was extraordinarily clean. Turning to the big telecom/trid she found that it also was immaculate, except for a thin layer of dust - about a week's worth, she guessed. The glass panels on the front of the storage unit were carefully cleaned, and inside she could see a collection of optical chips.

The room smelled of pine scent.

The kitchenette was also spotless - no dirty dishes, no crumbs on the counter - it was even relatively clean under the refrigerator. There was a soy-processor, but it didn't look like it had been used...ever? The freezer was well stocked with ice, and in the refrigerator were several bottles of spring water. The crisper held celery and carrots, again, probably fresh about a week ago. Within the main compartment of the fridge was a single container of soygurt. It was about half empty, though carefully closed.

Under the sink were a full selection of kitchen cleaning supplies.

On the refrigerator door were a number of magnetic frogs in various poses, waiting to faithfully hold up memos or other hardcopy material. But right now they had nothing to do.

The cupboards held a neat set of simple eating utensils, plates, bowls and so on. Lots of vitamins, the bottles all lined up in a cabinet all their own. And two more cupboards with Hostess Ding Dongs. Case after case, all unopened, of Hostess Ding Dongs, stacked with painstaking care.

In the bathroom the shower curtain was also lavishly adorned with frogs. They cavorted about holding up flowers as umbrellas to keep them out of the rain. The shampoo was some utilitarian generic brand. The tub held not a trace of mold, the sink not a single dried toothpaste stain. There was a soap dish in the form of a frog lying on his back - place the soap on his tummy and smart-plastic arms held it in place. In a glass on the sink were two toothbrushes - on one the bristles looked well used (and a bit pinkish?), while the bristles on the other looked entirely unused, though it was out of its package.

The toilet seat was decidedly down. Sitting on the tank was a box of tissue.

Beneath the sink was another collection of cleaning supplies, including several bottles of pine-scented air freshener, explaining the woodsy aroma of the place which had by now grown almost cloying.

Medicine cabinet - Band-Aids, sugar-free chocolate laxatives, ibuprofen, lip balm, tiny scissors and a pair of tweezers, and an ointment for ingrown toenails. Not a razor in sight, but then, Carla thought, if you wore a habit all the time and were celibate...and in any case, Sister Esmeralda had always seemed quite unselfconscious about her relatively noticeable facial hair.

There was wicker basket holding a stack of white bath towels, and a white bathrobe hung on the inside of the bathroom door, several long strands of black hair remaining near the collar.

There was a brush, which also stubbornly clung to several strands of hair. But no cosmetics at all.

A cabinet held packages of toilet paper and a few boxes of tissue. Standing in the middle of the white-tiled room, something struck Carla as conspicuously absent, and she looked again. Finally she found it, high up in the cabinet with the toilet paper, but behind everything else - a solitary, unopened box of feminine pads.

The bed was made - sheets and a single thermal-weave blanket you could bounce a coin off of. A single hard pillow in a snow-white case. Neatly arranged under the bed were several dumbbells and some big rubber bands for exercising. A pair of Foot-Fit SmartSneakers.

There were two nightstands, one to either side of the bed. On one were a stack of introductory nursing texts with dog-eared pages, and a well used notebook full of notes on the books' contents. On the other night table were a number of the latest hardcopy fashion magazines - the latest Vashon Island and Armani styles shown off by the hippest models captured by the trendiest photographers. And on top of those was a heavy Bible, including the Apocrypha, of course. Carla had seen the Fathers using these as well, and couldn't figure out why people still preferred them to AR editions. The Bible's pages were frayed, and the pages were filled with highlighted passages - almost to the point where the highlighting seemed pointless - it seemed like more passages were marked than not.

In the closet were several habits, hung together with their wimples. There was one "casual" outfit - a drab, baggy affair with flowers that would leave not a centimeter of skin exposed - and some exercise clothes - baggy white sweat pants and jersey. All the clothes were self-washing. No spare bedding anywhere in sight, but then what was on the bed was self-laundering as well.

Above the bed hung a simple crucifix.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:35:00

Jesus Christ...when does she have the time to work out? Carla thought as she flipped through the optical chips by the trid. Esmeralda put in as much time into the clinic as Carla, if not more - she must not sleep at night if she was doing all these work-out routines.

Carefully replacing the chips where she found them, Carla turned to the telecom unit and tried to access it's central control panel, only to be greeted with an expected password prompt. She doubted Esmeralda had a high security system, but she was cluless when it came to cracking computer systems. She may have to hire some short term help for this one, but she'd wait and see if there was any other useful information.

She investigated the kitchen next, particularly the cupboards. Why were there so many vitamins? Everything indicated that Esmeralda was as healthy as a horse - surely she didn't need anything more than a single multivitamin tablet to supplment whatever was missing in her diet. Carla picked up the vitamin bottles and took a look at each of them, hoping to discern what they were for.

The Ding Dongs caught her attention too. It made sense that they weren't opened - they really didn't seem to fit in with the rest of Esmeralda's diet, but why was she stocking them here? Grabbing a box from the middle of the pile, Carla carefully opened it, trying to not damage the box too much, and took a look inside.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:37:00

She was tempted to take a Ding Dong herself, but Carla already felt a bit guilty about snooping around Esmeralda's place, even if it was with the intent of helping her. She closed the box and placed it in the back of the cabinent, out of sight.

She moved to the bathroom next. The cleanliness of the place was almost freakish. Checking in the trashcan to see what Esmeralda may have been using, all she found were some balled up tissues. Her attention was caught by the hair strands around the bathrobe and the hairbrush; of course, with her headpiece on, Carla had no idea what Esmeralda's hair looked like, but she had assumed that the nuns all kept their hair short.

In fact, Carla really had no idea what any part of Esmeralda's body looked like under those heavy robes. With those work-out videos, she could be as muscle-bound as an orc. Hell, due to the bathroom supplies, she could even be a man.

She headed for the bedroom and looked through the clothing once more, hoping she might find some sort of underwear.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:37:00

What the hell? It's like she's shrinking, Carla thought as she looked through the clothes drawers. Like a tadpole's tail.

She picked up the worn copy of The Passion of Saint Catherine of Siena and flipped through it, looking for any interesting notes or highlights.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:38:00

She didn't find anything of particular interest in the book, aside from the fact that it had been well-read. So why was it stashed away in the clothes drawer unlike the other books?

She closed the drawer and moved over to the bed, where the other books were kept. She flipped through those too, looking for any interesting information. For the Bible, she opted to focus on what Esmeralda hadn't highlighted.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:39:00

Damn, this girl's a nut. Carla thought, looking through the reading material. She thought about what someone might think of herself if they snooped through her own apartment....They'd probably think she was boring as hell.

Carla knew a thing or two about St. Catherine - she knew that Catherine was a patron saint of, amongst other things, nurses and the sick. Perhaps that was all there was to Esmeralda's fascination with her? She'd have more time to research that later.

After checking the time, Carla decided she should get going somewhat soon. She had already looked through most of the small apartment, and she hadn't made much progress at all. If Esmeralda was captured against her will - and Carla wasn't even so sure of that - she still had no idea who would want her and why. There were still a couple of things she wanted to do, however.

Returning to the entry room, she lifted up the curtains over the window slightly to get a glimpse of the view outside.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:39:20

There wasn't much to see - the red brick windowless back wall of the church, with a vegetable garden in the narrow space between the buildings.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:42:00

Perfect


Carla opened up the window half-way, leaving the curtains down, and hoped that the apartment might air out after a night or two. She pine scent was almost overwhelming, and Carla suspected that it might be concealing another odor.

She stopped and looked at the telecom unit as she passed through the room. After doing a quick matrix search, she looked up the date of St. Catherine's death and the date of the prayer that was written in Esmeralda's bible. Not expecting much success, Carla called up the telecom unit's access panel and tried codes:

14081376

and

29041380

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:42:45

With the entry of St. Catherine's birthdate, the telecom prompt screen gave way to a collage of elite models, mostly showing off swimwear or undergarments, apparently culled together from the sort of up-market fashion publications that the nun kept by her bed.

Welcome, Esmeralda appeared in the center of the screen.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:43:48

Woah!

Carla was so surprised by her success that she initially didn't know what to do. After getting over the initial shock, she tried searching for contact information - names, addresses, commcodes...

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:45:00

Carla's excitement died down once she scanned the console. The address book had some contact numbers that might prove useful, but there really wasn't anything she could do with them. She certainly wasn't going to call these people and ask, "You didn't happen to kidnap Sister Esmeralda, did you?"

She needed to find out who these people were without revealing herself to them, and that was going to require some technical support. In any case, Carla copied down the names and numbers in the address book and closed the window. Next, she opened up the browser to see if there was any history files there.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 13:50:00

"This isn't helping," Carla remarked in frustration. After copying down the names and numbers into her commlink, she turned the telecom off, shut off the lights, and exited the apartment. She'd be back for more searching, but Carla had a feeling she wasn't going to get much more information out of the apartment - she was going to need help contacting those characters from the address book. In any case, she had to get back to work.

Monday 7/14/70 22:05:00

The remainder of the day was a standard work day - dull yet exhausting at the same time. Although she wanted to ask the fathers and sisters about Esmeralda, it seemed too late now - a week after the disappearance - to start asking questions. Miguel wanted her to keep this investigation as quiet as possible, and she did not wish to break that request. The only person she could really turn to for help at this point was the Black Cat - perhaps he could put her in contact with some cheap hackers. Now, finally in the seclusion of her apartment, she got a chance to make a call. However, as she scanned her own address book for Mr. Chu's number, she recalled just how easily (well, relatively speaking) she had stolen contact information from Esmeralda.

I should probably store these numbers in a safer location.

She transferred Mr. Chu's number, Carmen's number, Miguel's number, and the codes from Esmeralda's console onto her Sony Emperor for safe keeping. Mr. Chu's number was probably the only one of those she'd need on a semi-regular basis, so she could just keep that one memorized. The few remaining contacts left on her commlink, such as the commcodes for the priests, seemed relatively harmless, so she kept those.

Of course, now with Mr. Chu's number off her commlink, she would have to manually punch in the commcode herself. After doing so, she waited for a response:

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:00

Carla's AR POV flared to life with a trid-image of a dark, drab office - the same she had seen before, though now the lights were much lower. A thick cloud of smoke hovered over the desk in the center, and out of the haze the sallow, aging features of Mr. Chu gazed impassively.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:10

Chu's demeanor caught Carla a bit off-guard.

"Good evening, Mr. Chu. It's...me,"

She wasn't exactly sure what to call herself. She refused to use her real name over the airwaves, and she wasn't so comfortable using "Carmen" either. Mr. Cat had referred to her as "Johnson," but Carla didn't know whether that would mean anything to Mr. Chu.

"You do remember me, yes?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:12

"Of course."

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:13

Relieved that Mr. Chu recognized her, Carla continued, a little more confidently this time.

"What'll it cost me to have you find a hand for hire? I need some help, someone who's good with computers. I can't offer any more than 5,000 up front, so I'm not expecting top-of-the-line service - just someone who knows what he's doing. Can you set me up with someone?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:20

"Do require merely a referral, or shall I represent you in business negotiations? In other words, would I be acting as fixer or Johnson?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:23

"I'd like to meet him myself - I just need the contact information."

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:50

"Simple referrals are Y200 apiece, and they come with my recommendation of you as a "trustworthy" individual. Take one, or interview several, I do not care. For Y300, I will care a little, and do my best to advise you on the sort of people you will be dealing with."

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:06:55

"Let's start with just one - I'll pay the extra 100 for your care. How do I send you the money?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:07:07

Mr. Chu waves a hand in annoyance. "No no no. I have not made myself clear. The first name is Y200. My advice is Y300. That makes Y500. Of course, that combination assures I make the initial referral my personal favorite. Transfer the funds to this commcode."

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:07:10

"Oh, I see."

500 just to get a good reference? Well, Carla really wasn't in much of a position to negotiate.

"Very well, 500 it is. When can I meet this individual?"

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:07:30

"Oh come come now! You have hired me as a consultant. Don't try to rush me." As if to emphasize his words, the man paused for a long drag on his cigarette.

"Send me half the money now. Once I have determined a suitable selection, I will contact you with further details." He pushed a button on his desktop and his AR image vanished.

Carla
Monday 7/14/70 22:07:40

"Wait-!"

Carla tried to get his attention, but he was already gone. Given that he was handing out information on these people, she wanted to ask whether he was selling information about herself to anybody.

He'd either lie or make me pay for it, Carla thought.

She opened up her closet and pulled out the credstick she had hidden away for safe keeping. After wiring the 250 nuyen to Mr. Chu's commcode, she decided to call it a night - surely she'd hear back from him soon. Once she finished clearing the call history and Mr. Chu's commcode off her commlink, she fell onto her bed.

Carla
Monday 8/3/70 00:00:00


Carla couldn't sleep. It had been nearly three weeks since she last heard from Mr. Chu, and Sister Esmeralda had been missing for roughly a month. Chances that she was still alive were diminishing every day, as were Carla's chances of getting the full 20,000 nuyen.

Not wanting to "rush" Mr. Chu, she had refrained from contacting him since their last conversation. She didn't want to go to Miguel either - he had entrusted her with a job, and running back to him for help certainly wouldn't boost his confidence in her. That left Carla to herself to solve the mystery, at least for the time being.

She had kept an eye on Esmeralda's apartment for the past couple of weeks. Periodically she had checked inside to see if anything had been moved or if there were any signs of recent intrusion (besides her own, though she tried her best to conceal them. Of course, any other intruders would have done the same thing, so the entire investigation was pointless.) The pine scent had eventually leaked out the window and Carla closed it to prevent any more bugs from flying in.

When it was becoming obvious that nothing of interest was going on at the apartment, Carla started searching elsewhere. The church was the only other place Esmeralda should have been besides her home, so Carla attempted to find any belongings she had kept at the church. During that first week, she once asked Father Ortiz whether the church kept any background records or files on Sister Esmeralda. "There might be signs of a medical condition," Carla explained, "she might be suffering from a mental or physical illness, Lord forbid it, which might explain where she went and why."

That actually was a possible explanation for Esmeralda's disappearance, but Carla highly doubted it; from her own personal experience with Esmeralda, she had never seen any signs of medical disorders. But then again, as evidenced by her visits to the apartment, there was a lot about Esmeralda that Carla didn't know.

As she grew more desperate, Carla had begun conducting more thorough research on St. Catherine of Siena - the patron saint, she supposed, of Sister Esmeralda. As much as that research had given Carla potential insight into Esmeralda's character, however, she still had no leads on where she could possibly be or why. She was stuck until she found a way of learning more about those names.

I'll call Mr. Chu tomorrow night. If he still has nothing, I'll have to move ahead on my own..

Carla
Monday 8/3/70 00:01:00

Carla contemplated what she should do about the mercenary Mr. Chu was supposedly finding for her. Should she just ask him to find out the identities of the people on Esmeralda's telecom and dismiss him right away? Or should she keep him around for the whole job? After all, she might need him - or her - more than once; it would be inefficient to keep calling him back and dismissing him for each individual step of the job.

So then how much should she pay him? Presently, she only had around 9,500 nuyen, counting her credstick and the funds from Miguel, but she could potentially have 10,000 or 20,000 more nuyen by the end of the search. If she hired this merc to stay on the job until the end, was he entitled to a share of the final prize? How big a share? He'd probably be doing harder and more dangerous work than Carla, so 50% seemed fair. But what if she needed a third or fourth hand half way through the investigation? She couldn't just lower the first guy's cut to 25% after the initial agreement.

It wasn't so much that Carla felt generous as she felt a need to be honest with her...erm, employee? Mr. Chu had already been kind enough to put in a good word for her; if she didn't prove to be trustworthy, then both her reputation and Mr. Chu's would be damaged, and Carla certainly didn't want her relationship to Mr. Chu and The Black Cat to suffer any setbacks.

On the other hand, there were certain things she felt obligated not to discuss with this merc. She didn't want to mention Miguel at all, but if she explained that there was a 20,000 reward for finding Esmeralda alive, it wouldn't be hard to deduce where so much money was coming from. Again, she could lie and say it was coming from the church or the community as a whole, but she did not want to put her trustworthiness in question. No doubt she would be working on more jobs in the future, so she was going to need to maintain a solid reputation.

Of course, the other detail Carla would prefer not to mention at all was the tiny issue of being stalked by shedim spirits. "You see, I was cursed by an evil witch before I was born and now I get attacked by flesh-eating, mind-controlling zombies on an irregular and completely unpredictable basis."

Yeah, she had better leave that part out.

Carla
Monday 8/4/70 10:00:00

Carla's Incoming Call icon flashed incessantly as she drew blood from the screaming child. She could see that it was her long-awaited call from the mysterious Mr. Chu, but she could scarcely just leave the needle in the brat's arm...

The moment she's handed the vial off to one of the sisters and pressed a patch onto the small wound, she headed for the steps, keying her Accept Call icon as she climbed.

But she was too late - the Chinaman must have grown impatient, but he'd left a voice message -

<<Still working on a computer expert that I consider suitable to your needs - I can be quite picky on my clients' behalf. But I have identified someone else you may wish to meet. This person is skilled in both combat magic and tracking. More importantly, I believe he can be trusted. Most importantly, I believe you may be able to convince he to work for little or no cash. Twelve hours from now, he will be waiting for you in a diner very near your neighborhood called Meg's Place. It is quite off the map and your meeting should attract little attention...although one can never be too careful. I have also attached a picture of the person's face. If you are not interested, simply do not go. If you don't like his looks, simply make no contact.>>

As the voice message ended, a 2D shot of a handsome and stylish young elf filled Carla's field of vision.

Carla
Monday 8/4/70 10:00:30

Carla frowned slightly as she read Mr. Chu's message. Why should she need someone good at combat? Well...that sort of thing could possibly be useful in the future, and having a skilled tracker would certainly be helpful. Certainly Mr. Chu wouldn't have recommended this guy without good reason.

Once the mercenary's profile came up, however, Carla had to stifle a laugh. This guy was supposed to be good at combat? He looked like a model out of one of those elf fashion magazines. Oh well - she'd give him the benefit of the doubt and meet him. What was the worst thing that could happen?

Oh right, he could turn out to be a hot-head and kill me right there.

Carla checked the time - she would need to be at the meeting point by 10:00 PM. That gave her plenty of time after work to get ready and make the trip. She was going to need the extra time to take some safety precautions.

Before closing the message window, Carla considered sending a reply of thanks to Mr. Chu, but somehow she suspected that he wouldn't appreciate such a gesture very much.

Carla
Monday 8/4/70 13:24:00

Carla was just finishing up her lunch, her mind filled with thoughts of the upcoming "meet," when Chu called again. She answered, but before she could speak, the man began, "I have arranged for a second individual to attend your meeting tonight. He also is, I think, within you modest price range. While not a hacker per se, I believe he is the sort of person that can handle whatever technical needs you may have. He is my recommendation. He will apparently be sporting a black eye and a pink tie. And I will send you a very recent photo. If you do not like him, call me after the meet and I will make enquiries after a more...traditional...hacker for you. Do you have any questions?" the fixer concluded, obviously hoping she did not.

Carla
Monday 8/4/70 13:24:00

She was curious, not to mention angry, that it had taken Chu so long to find a hacker (and after all this time, he hadn't even supplied her with a "proper" one.) But asking about the delay seemed pointless; after all, as far as she could tell, he had no vested interest in intentionally screwing her over.

Somewhat intimidated by his aloofness, Carla initially did not want to bother Mr. Chu with any further dialogue. But perhaps his coldness was just a front - certainly he had the type of job that required a great deal of personal detachment. In her few exhanges with him, Carla had grown accustomed to interacting with Mr. Chu as if he were some vicious dog who would attack her for the slightest offense. Perhaps he would appreciate being treated like a human being. She didn't expect him to admit it, but it might be worth a try.

"I'm sorry I couldn't take your call earlier," she replied, trying to keep her voice relaxed. She didn't want to come across as either too formal or too friendly. "How much should I send you for the additional contact? Another 500?"

Carla
Monday 8/4/70 13:24:30

A curious expression crossed Mr. Chu's face - a mix of avarice and surprise - but it was quickly gone, and he said, "No, the first reference was a favor for another client, and you have already paid me for this one. Good luck this evening. I leave you with the picture." And the connection was cut, Mr. Chu's dour image replaced with a photo of another elf, this one with gray eyes, pale skin, and carrot-orange hair ringing his mouth in a neat goatee and clinging tenaciously to the sides of a balding head.

Carla's Flat, Downtown Seattle
Monday 08/04/70 20:00:00
Carla - Miss Johnson
Hermes Ikon - Passive

Carla stepped out of the shower, nearly free from the odor of working in a clinic all day long (or so she thought - Carla couldn't tell whether the odor was really there or if she was just imagining it.) After getting dressed, she took careful stock of everything she would need for the meeting.

In the interior pockets of her longcoat she stored her pistol and two spare clips of ammunition. She didn’t want to be holding too much money, in case she got mugged, so she stashed 500 nuyen and her credstick into the envelope Miguel had given her and hid it within her coat as well.

Not quite sure what security would be like down at Meg’s Place, Carla opened up the file directory on her commlink and reviewed what kind of information prying eyes might find on it. She didn't have any outstanding software; all she had really used her commlink for was telecom calls and matrix browsing. The only data files she kept were stored commcodes for the two priests and some basic medical reference material. The two mugshots of Mr. Chu’s contacts were also saved on the commlink; after giving the two faces a good, long look, she deleted them.

As far as she could tell, there was nothing that would indicate she was anything other than a medic for the local parish. Unfortunately, the lack of any official personal identification was going to look suspicious; she wasn't sure what she would do if she was questioned for not having a SIN registered on her commlink. Maybe she had better ask Mr. Chu for some help on that.

Grandma Carmen’s, Downtown Seattle
Monday 08/04/70 20:30:00
Carla - Miss Johnson
Hermes Ikon - Passive

“I need to look...different.”

“You sure do!”

Since it was apparent that her relationship to Carmen was no secret, Carla felt there was no danger in paying her grandmother a house call. She wanted to keep her “business” identity as far removed from her current identity as much as possible, and that required changing her appearance to some extent. And since she had no cosmetics of her own, she would have to rely on her grandmother for help. Carmen, not surprisingly, was eager to oblige.

“What do you need to get dressed-up at this hour for?” Carmen asked

“I’m meeting someone, grandma, and I’d like to make an impression.”

“Is this ‘someone’ a man?” Carmen asked excitedly

“...yes, he’s a man.” Carla was unenthusiastic.

“Who is this man? Is he from town? Do I know him?”

“He’s from nearby...I met him through another friend.”

“Oh! That is very good, Carla. I didn’t think you had any friends.”

“Thanks, grandma.”

Meg’s Place, Downtown Seattle
Monday 08/04/70 21:30:00
Carla - Miss Johnson
Hermes Ikon - Passive

Seeing the sign-post about a block away, Carla removed her glasses and tucked them into her breast pocket. With her chin down and shoulders tucked in, she had power-walked through the adjacent neighborhood as briskly as possible, trying not to draw the slightest bit of attention from anyone else on the streets. Her drab overcoat had helped her blend into the shabby city surroundings as she followed the directions indicated in her AR display. Now, with her destination in sight, she could relax a bit. Or rather, it was time for her act to begin.

Removing her coat revealed the clothing hidden underneath. She wore a white blouse buttoned all the way up to the collar, and the white gloves covering her hands fit snugly underneath her narrow wrist cuffs. Her grandmother had insisted that she not wear her usual slacks, so Carla had reluctantly agreed to wear one of Carmen’s black knee-length skirts and a matching pair of high-heeled leather boots (which Carla estimated hadn’t been worn in at least 40 years.) She wore no stockings, for she didn’t own any, and she had politely declined the offer to use a pair of her grandmother’s. Around her upper thigh, hidden under the skirt, Carla had strapped her concealable holster and Raecor Sting.

Her hair had grown noticeably over the past few months and now almost reached her shoulders. Carmen had fixed Carla’s hair so that it had a slightly wavy look and flipped outward towards the ends. The old woman had also used some make-up to strengthen Carla’s facial features. Rather than pale and hollow, her facial skin now looked healthier, with a slightly tanned hue. Her thin, regularly chapped lips were now bolder thanks to a modest layer of deep crimson lipstick. And her eyes were more prominent thanks to a slight shade of mascara and curled lashes. Granted, she didn’t look like a wholly different person, but combined with an altered persona, it would at least require a second look to associate her with the hunched, hooded church doctor.

Folding her coat over her forearm, she slowed down to a casual stroll, straightened her back, and lifted her head. It was the best she could do to minimize any indications of nervousness or uncertainty from her expression; though she knew she couldn’t fool these elves into thinking she was some sort of experienced hot-shot, she might at least be able to make them think she wasn’t afraid.

Unfortunately, her act was abruptly interrupted when she opened the door to the diner, for the smoky atmosphere temporarily reduced her to a helpless coughing fit. After about a minute, she finally regained control of her breathing and wiped her irritated eyes with her sleeve, smearing a bit of make-up onto the white fabric. Thinking she had regained her composure, she scanned the establishment for an open seat.

Meg's Place
Monday 8/4/70 21:30:05

Peering around the smoky diner, Carla did not immediately see anyone that looked like the two pictures she'd been sent. But then she looked again at one man - at first glance he looked nothing like either photo, and she wouldn't have looked again except that he was the only elf in the place. And the only one wearing a suit, although he had some sort of tacky T-shirt on under the jacket. But like the second picture Chu had sent, he had a goatee - same shape, but instead of orange it was neon green. He didn't have a black eye or a pink tie, although there was some sort of nano-tat design on his face, along with a clunky, low-grade comm attached to one side of his head.

And his black tie - when it caught the light just right, the fabric shimmered pink.

Meg’s Place, Downtown Seattle
Monday 08/04/70 21:31:00
Carla - Miss Johnson
Hermes Ikon - Passive

Carla did her best not to gawk; though she shouldn't have been surprised, it was hard for her not to be repulsed. The neon hair, the nano-tat pattern, the computer on his head - it was as if he stood for everything she despised about contemporary fashion trends. But she knew it was unfair to judge by appearances; after all, the comp-sci students back in New York had always been a little quirky. If this guy was supposed to be her "hacker," then such fashion tastes were to be expected.

Almost certain that he was the man she was looking for, she steadily approached his table.