Hotel Hell, Third Floor -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:14:00
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN: Hidden (earbud, subvocal mic)

"Well I dont think a frontal assault would be very smart. Loui has a lot of gumba's there with guns. We would end up in a huge firefight and even if we accomplished our goal everyone would know who did it, hitting the mob very publicly and taking out one of their people would also make them pursue us to the ends of the world I'd imagine

I think it is best if we get Loui as far away from his peoples as possable and eliminate him quitely. If we can make it look like Loui disappeared and people arent even sure if he is dead or not except for us i think it would be all the better. It would cause confusion and keep everyone off our backs until we can fade. Thats my vote. I would like to try and continue to work in this town though.." Cerberus flashed a grin for a second.

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 21:55:12
Mr. Smith - Gentleman Caller
PAN - Hidden

"Purpose? Oh no, it wouldn't have made much buisness sense to gather together Finnegan's Most Wanted simply to remove him from the equation. Other people could have handled that with a much lower profile, and, before today, I wasn't on his radar. I would have prefered to keep things that way, if I had any intention of doing him harm." He also took a bite of his dessert. "However, as I mentioned earlier, this team isn't much good to me as long as they're on the run from the mob, so I do intend to find a solution to that problem. As near as I can tell, no one outside of Louie's clique particularly wants them dead - and those that do wouldn't if Louie were no longer in the picture." His eyebrow raised slightly, "...so, it seems that the clearest path to my ultimate goal is right through Louie Finnegan. I have no personal problem with the man, but, professionally.... I cannot allow him to continue interfering in my buisness."

"I may have suggested as much to the others, when I was gathering them together. I honestly believe that their only way out of this mess is to find a way to make Louie stop wanting them dead - and I can only think of one way to do that. I also suggested that they would need to see to that, personally. They're all on-board. They are also uniquely suited to serving as bait, when the time comes."

"So, as you can see, they have got both 'motive' and 'opportunity', all they are lacking is 'means'." Smith looked down, a bit disappointed with the truth behind this last part, but hopeful that if he played his cards right, Francesca might be able to help him out. "Most of them are heavily injured from the attack this morning, and they're doing their best to patch themselves together, today. I've managed to dig them up some cheap equipment... " Smith reflexivly checked his AR watch. He had hoped to contact Johnny Fiasco around midnight, but he figured anytime before 3 or 4 would be fine. He let his thoughts trail back to the conversation. "...well, I know a guy willing to sell some to me, tonight.... Depending on how we go about it, it may not be enough, but it was all I could scrape together in a day."

"What we could really use, right now, is an ally with something to gain by seeing Louie fall, with the resources to see that this unique opportunity isn't wasted, and who doesn't want to take the blame for the fallout." He took another bite of his dessert. "... know anyone like that?"

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 21:55:40


The purported Bigio negotiator's enchanting face lit up as though the earth had altered its rotation just to let the sun shine its rays over the balcony and onto her features. "I am SO glad that we are now on the same page. Why didn't you just say you planned to have your people whack Louie in the first place? You're right, it is the obvious solution to their immediate problem. While everyone agrees that he's a royal pain, his blood ties to the other two families have them running around offing children just to keep the fool out of Rothstein's hands. If they'd shed the family loyalty routine, they'd already have saved themselves a world of time, money, exposure and embarrassment. Frankly, as long as you don't do anything so obvious that they can't pretend not to know who you are, they'll all secretly thank you and that'll be the end of the story. And I don't mind saying the loss of one of their chief numbers people would be a big leg up for some of my own relations."

She leaned forward, setting the evening's record for snow white cleavage exposed. "So how can I help? Of course I cannot be involved in any way, but, for instance, I do know who the Finnegan boys sold your pet troll's Ingram to, and I also know who that person sold it to. By now, anyone could buy it and there'd be no way to pin that on anyone but back on one of the Finnigan soldiers that found and pawned it. Or I may be able to help you in other ways...resources, information...morale...."

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 21:57:12
Mr. Smith - Gentleman Caller
PAN - Hidden

Adam couldn't help but smile at the offer of moral support. "Well, the reason I didn't say so, sooner, is probably the same reason that you didn't mention your relation's interest in the matter, sooner, but I share your pleasure that we managed to find our way onto the same page."

"I guess the question, now, isn't how can you help me, its how can't you help me. Or, more accurately, how much 'help' you're interested in offering."

"Locating the gun would be a good start. The troll was whining about not having one, and seemed to think I could pull one out of my back pocket." He laughed out loud. "I can't, but it seems as though you actually can. That is quite impressive. Actually, any gear of that general 'function' would be put to good use, if available. I've got a team of five, and maybe two guns between them. Four when I make the pickup tonight."

"As far as convincing the current owner of the troll's gun to sell it to me, I do have a small nest-egg stashed away that hasn't been completely spent or promissed away, but I definately am not prepared to finance a full-scale assassination of someone so powerful. I intended to make money in the endevour, not to spend my own. If you or your relations would be interested in expressing your gratitude for our services, financially, that might free up more of my personal account to cover the various costs that are bound to pop up which you wouldn't want traced back to you, such as this one."

"Information. That sounds good too. I hope I have not come off as completely ignorant of Mr. Finnigan's buisness, but I must admit that your finger is much closer to the pulse than mine is. You probably know what I need to know, better than I do - but right now, I would be very interested to know to what lengths this little distraction has affected Louie's day-to-day affairs. The trolls know a bit about how his operation works - but have no idea if things have changed since they 'resigned'. Their information may not be totally reliable anymore."

"As for moral-support, you have no idea how much you've already helped in that department."

Hotel Hell, Third Floor -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:15:02
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky listened to Cerberus' speech, nodding as he spoke and taking his had as he circled providing a strong firm shake. Once Fort and Cerb had posed their ideas Rocky spoke up. "I just know we are only going to get one more shot at this, before Louie drops his whole fuckin' family on us, and I wouldn't be surprised to see a couple more trolls rolling with him when we find him." Stopping for a moment Rocky has a though that he then shares, "I think that is the most important part chummers, we have to be the ones that determine when and where this fight goes down, if not we are screwed. To that end I think hitting him while he's out making rounds will be best, preferably later in the night when they will be tired and we can get a little something out of the deal besides him off our backs."

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 21:58:00


"And you have no idea how much I can still help you," she riposted with a wickedly devilish smile. "Are you open? I mean your PAN. Here's the number of the guy with the weapon," she explained, her words now different but her flirtatious voice unchanged. A number and a name - Alfie Perkins - appeared in her own previously muted PAN, and Smith enabled the transfer without opening up his own system. "Tell him you got his name from Guido and Mickey - those are the two idiots that sold the gun to the guy Alfie bought it from. Should get you in the door. If you need more than that, deal with Alfie and never mention me. I can't get you anything myself because I can't be connected to this business. It'd keep me up nights, and if I'm going to lose sleep there are better ways to do it."

She finished off her berries and pushed the bowl away, allowing her to once again rest her elbows on the table, her chin on her interlaced fingers.

"Information on the other hand, that's cheap. I haven't really looked into it, but whatever the trolls know from their time with Fishbreath, you can pretty much count on that still being solid - he's too much of a putz to admit he's got a security problem by changing his routine. He has beefed up security a bit, but word is that after the last guy they sent him got fucked up, the Merlyns are only loaning him third-string talent. Other than that I don't know anything.

"Now, my cheeky cheeky boy - as for the idea of my people paying you for something you are obviously already inclined to do yourself, a proposition like that bears explaining if only for the amusement of the idea. I mean, I think I'm already offering you more than enough to satisfy."

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:00:32
Mr. Smith - Gentleman Caller
PAN - Hidden

"You'll find no arguments here, your offer is already generous, but allow me to amuse you with my thoughts on the matter...." Smith smirked. The situation reminded him a lot of his first few meetings with Franco, and he even resorted to the same counting out of 'bullet points' that he did back then.

"First of all," he put one gloved finger down on the table. "You are right. At least half of my team doesn't have any choice but to see this thing through to its conclusion. Even without your support, they're going to lay down their lives to try to regain their freedom - probably in vain, since they're shot up all to hell, under-equipped, and didn't have the common sense to avoid being in this situation to begin with. That's pretty much why they're going to need me and the people I bring to the party. But none of us are particularly in love with this idea. I thought that gathering these people together was an opportunity, and as we've discussed, it has become quite a major inconvenience. There is a point where the only sensible move would be to cut my losses."

"I have no doubt that Angelo and Louie are pissed at me for my meddling so far, but neither of them are any worse for the wear, and handing over the three things they want most in this world would go a long way as an apology." Smith maintained his smile, and friendly demeanor. "Don't get me wrong, that is the last thing I want to do, but if I cannot afford the alternative, the consolation prize will start looking pretty good. Ultimately, my goal is to come out of this mess financially ahead. It always has been. Spending my own personal money to take care of someone else's problem doesn't make a whole lot of buisness-sense. I'm not asking you to pay us to do it, either. All I am suggesting is that you and yours have a lot to gain if we go through with this, and, if we're saving you the trouble of doing it yourself, any gratitude you would be willing to show would be appreciated."

"Second," he said, pausing while his middle finger landed on the table, "is a matter of practicality. No matter how motivated we are to see Louie dead, wishes and dreams don't kill a man. Big expensive guns do. When this man is as powerful and well-connected as Louie Finnegan, you're going to need a lot of ammo to get through his army of SUV-driving minions. Armored jackets to stop them from killing you. Maybe surveillance gear... medical gear... the list goes on an on, and none of it is free."

"Its also going to take more money to convince my wage-mage and all-purpose ork to stick around and help off a mob-boss, who isn't particularly interested in them. Upgrading the mission from three extractions to a very high-profile and dangerous assassination should probably involve some sort of raise. I'm certainly going to need to grease some palms along the way, and get my hands on all that pricey gear. That troll-gun you mentioned, if it has all the features that he claimed it does, it could easily go for 10-20 G's on the street. Asking me to swallow those costs, myself, feels a little bit unfair - since you want this to happen as much as I do.... Maybe more."

"Lastly, he said, striking his middle finger against the table, "as I mentioned before, you and I both recognise that this opportunity is unique, and fleeting. If my team goes after Louie underequipped, underprepared, or without the support of the mercenary half of the team, and it ends badly - how many more times in your lifetime do you think a situation like this will repeat itself? This team lacks resources, but is uniquely suited to this task. They're motivated, they've got Louie's undivided attention, knowledge of the internals of his buisness, no connection to you or the Bigio family - in fact, if it makes you feel any better, they don't ever need to know we've had this conversation.... But what I think neither of us wants is to see this opportunity wasted - because its probably not going to come around again anytime soon."

Smith then took his hand off of the table, turning it over, and pulling on the bottom of the glove to adjust it as he concluded his pitch. "So, those are my thoughts. Again, it sort of comes down to motive, means, and opportunity. You certainly aren't in a position where you have to drop a dime on this endevour... I just thought that you might want to make some sort of investment in its success, given the circumstances. If nothing else, once this whole Finnegan thing blows over, my new friends will be looking for work, and I've promissed to help them out with that. I'm sure this isn't the last job of this nature that the Bigio-clan wants someone else to do."

"I would like to think that this could be the start of a mutually benificial relationship...."

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:00:55


"Oh, let's hope its the start of a mutually beneficial something," she laughed.

Only she hadn't laughed at all.

Or had she?

In any case, Smith was sure he wasn't imagining the new ARO that danced above her head. It was a rather satisfying amount of certified nuyen, there for the taking.

"I won't insult you by pretending that's enough to cover all your costs, but it is enough that I'll want results or I'll want it back. Call Alfie. Get to work. And if you're still alive when it's done, call me again." She paused for emphasis.

"We'll talk about a bonus."

She wiped daintily at the corners of her mouth, stood gracefully, and made to leave. Smith stood to follow, but suddenly there was a waiter beside him. As the exquisitely filled green sheath headed out one door, the waiter gestured politely toward another. "Right this way, sir."

Hotel Hell, Third Floor -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Tuesday 8/19/70 16:15:30
Sledge - Planner
PAN - Hidden

She'd been letting everyone else do the talking. It was usually a way of letting them get enough rope, but that wasn't what this was about. The whole time she'd been running through the planning ARO and slotting in the various terms and permutations and running through several sets of scenarios. The software wasn't top end, but it was enough for her to identify some questions, and tell her what information was critical, and what wasn't.

The ork woman tapped the wall gently to get attention.

"Ok, looks like we are ready to talk some serious business now."

Sledge opened an ARO feed and broadcast it to everyone.

"One. We get Louie or die."

"Two, there is no number two, except what we're in already."

Tusks revealed by her peeled back snarl, "We deal with any problems with getting Louie afterwards."

Holding up a finger, "But, I'll check with Sugar Lips if there's a particular way that ends up being better for us."

"Now we need to go over some other info in detail again. We are going to build a simulation and walkthrough for the restaurant. And for his routine whenever he goes out. Probably changed, but it's the baseline. When we all know it, we can talk a look at vulnerable points in routine. Couple other questions."

Pointing at Fortunato, "Spirits, what do you need to use one? See him, piece of hair?"

Turning her head to look at everyone in turn, "We need disguises of some kind, anyone know more then the basic stuff about changing clothes and stuffing their cheeks with soy nuts, speak up."

Looking between Angel and Fortunato, "When we find Louie we need to track or follow him without us being seen, think about it now. Tip, these two big trogs here were way easier to follow then Louie himself."

"Options. We got a pistol, a hammer, couple pairs of trog fists, spirits. Sugar Lips is tracking down a shotgun for me, and an Ingram White Knight for our former medico. Add homemade explosives, given part of a day and a hundred nuyen of common household reagents I can cook up something to blow up a car. We got anything else that can do the job? Spells? Black IC?"

"Oh, and let's check every now and then no one is listening to us."

Hotel Hell, Third Floor -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:15:32
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato was glad to see this project moving forward. Just having a de facto leader, who wasn't occupied chatting up everyone he met, made him much more comfortable with the situation. They could pull this off. Sledge took charge smoothly, got things done and encouraged curt, precise discussion. Fortunato followed her lead, saying:

"I need to see him once on astral to get spirits working, same for astral tracking. It's better if I have LOS. I've also had a bit of professional disguise experience, it's been a long time though. I don't promise great results."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't have any spells to bring him down, but I can contribute another pistol to the pool. I've got a few spirits that will fuck him up something fierce."

"I'd like to get to him today, if you think you can get the simulations running fast enough. We definitely need to talk to Sug ... to Johnson and see if he's got the goods for us. If we have the White Knight then I've no doubt the big guy can turn the car into swiss cheese in 20 seconds flat."

Westin Hotel, Downtown Seattle
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:05:47
Mr. Smith - Going Home Alone
PAN - Hidden

"Certainly." Smith followed the waiter out of the alternate exit. As soon as he was out of sight of Francesca he began putting his notes on the meeting into his commlink - specifically, annotating 'Alfie's phone number with the details of the story Francesca fed him. He soon found himself back in the parking lot, next to his bike. As he stradled the thing, he got out his commlink and dialed up Johnny Fiasco. Pleasentries were exchanged, including some typical male banter about how the date went (given that it was over before the bars close), and eventually got around to verification that the gear was on-hand, and that Fiasco was ready to deliver. Smith instructed him to meet at 1 am in a parking structure not too far from Franco's turf. At first, Johnny seemed somewhat surprised or confused as to why Smith was picking the time and place for the meet, but although the past few hours had dulled the details of their earlier conversation, he was pretty they had somehow agreed to that - so he said he would be there.

Dorm Room
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:45:12
Adam Lear - College Student
PAN - Hidden

Adam arrived back at his place, and was somewhat releaved to find it in one piece. In fact, his roommate, John, was still up watching some comedy news show on the trid. Adam stopped to chat, since he hadn't seen John in a while. It was nice to talk to his friend like a person, and not have to worry about being Mr. Smith but he couldn't shake the thought from his head - he was still on the job. He eventually excused himself because he had to get ready and leave. He claimed he was going out to a party, and John didn't seem particularly interested. Adam said he was planning to free up the weekend, if at all possible, and that the two of them should go out and do something. John seemed interested, but not overly eager, when the ocmmercial break ended, that made a good time for Adam to slink off to do what he came here to do.

Adam grabbed an old duffle-bag out from beneith his bed. He hadn't used the thing in a long time, and it would be perfect for carrying shotguns around on a motorcycle. Heading over to his closet, he dug up both briefcases and put them into the bag, checking their contents. He took his package into the bathroom, and spent a little time reequipping himself with his usual tools, then, slinging it over one shoulder, he headed back out, waving to John as he went. He wasn't entirely surprised that John didn't ask why Adam needed a dufflebag to go to a party. His disinterest in social events wasn't usually something Adam liked about John, but, tonight, it was very much appreciated.

Public Parking Structure #4859
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:50:32
Mr. Smith - Waiting
PAN - Hidden

It was a short hop over to the parking structure. Adam had counted on that, since he still had a phone-call to make while he waited for Johnny Fiasco to call him to say he arrived (or to just show up, the structure was pretty full, but no one was around). He dialed the number Francesca gave him for the guy named 'Alfie Perkins', and checked his story. Apparantly, 'Guido and Mickey' pointed him in this direction.

Public Parking Structure #4859
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:51:59


Someone answered on the third ring. Voice only. If you could call it a voice - it was all distorted and mechanical - old-school voice masking tech - couldn't this guy have just sprung for a nice digital filter, maybe something female that sounded like it was wearing a short skirt and a long jacket?

Smith smoothly explained that he'd been referred by Guido and Mickey about an item that had recently come into Mr. Perkins' possession, to which the underwater voice replied - "If you're friends with those two spaghetti-heads, why didn't they just sell you this supposed item, instead of going through two middle-men?"

Public Parking Structure #4859
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:52:48
Mr. Smith - Waiting
PAN - Hidden

Adam had tossed a couple of ideas around in his head, he had been working on formulating a story about who he was, and why he was calling, before he did - but his best work always came to him at the last second. He thought about playing the powerful mystery man card again, but that would give him too much reason to go call around and check out his story. The fact was, both Guido and Mickey wouldn't remember refering anyone to Alfie, so it was best if he didn't give this guy any reason to cross-reference the facts or to try to dig up information that Adam seemed to be hiding. Simplicity was probably best.

"I didn't find out that they had it until they didn't anymore. I suppose they needed the cash, in a hurry, and didn't know I would be in the market - that is pretty much the situation your buisness thrives upon, no?" He paused, as if that was the end of the story, then added. "Believe me, I'm not thrilled about the double-markup, but that's buisness as usual, as far as I am concearned - my lack of foresight is your opportunity for profit. I can't deny that you're providing me with a service." He then smiled, and changed his voice in that way that lets the other person know you're smiling. "Though I am a little bit surprised that you're asking why your clients don't cut you out of the loop." He paused, hoping his friendly, professional, demeanor was enough to disarm the man's suspicions, then proceeded with buisness. "Anyway, either you've already sold that thing to someone else, and I need to take my money elsewhere, or you're looking to, in which case, I'm your man and we can help each other out."

Hotel Hell, Third Floor -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:16:16
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

As he looked over Sledge's ARO feed, he kept quite not wanting to say anything stupid. He had started to form some thoughts when Fort spoke up, which wasn't a bad thing as it gave him more time to wake up and get some coherent thoughts together.

Once Fort appeared to be finished Rocky spoke up again, "Well I'm not that great with my pistol and had just picked it up to cover my basis. As you saw from dealing with that earth spirit my abilities shine in close up hand to hand combat." Shaking his head in disbelief Rocky continues, "That guy at the clinic was the first non-troll to be still standing after me landing a good punch."

"I'll follow what ever plan we come up with till the end, since I think we all know this is going to be an all or nothing situation." With that Rocky stepped back a little and slowly looked at the others waiting to see what they thought.

Public Parking Structure #4859
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:52:59


There was a moment's silence, then the distorted voice said - "If you're willing to jump through all of security hoops, you can start by heading right now for the Starbucks at the north end of Pike's Place Market." The line went dead. And right then a big Americar glided up the ramp and headed for Smith. Its brights were on and it didn't stop until it's grill was a meter from the college student's knees.

Public Parking Structure #4859
Tuesday 8/19/70 22:57:34
Mr. Smith - Waiting
PAN - Hidden

The car came to a stop and for a moment, Smith wasn't sure who would make the first move. Then one of the rear doors opened. Smith slowley moved out of the headlights and around to that side and got in. He didn't see Johnny Fiasco, but was quickly informed that these were his men. He didn't really care if he showed up in person, or not, so long as the gear was all there. The boys Johnny sent wern't very talkative, so Smith took it upon himself to move things along.

"I'm in a hurry boys, something big just came up - so lets keep this short and sweet." He tossed a bundle of bills he had prepared for the occasion, coming to just a little bit more than he and Fiasco had agreed upon. The head goon quickly flipped through the bundle, then gestured to a box sitting between them. Peeking inside, Smith saw about what he expected, and smiled as he maneuvered the box into the duffle bag.

"Looks good. Pleasure doing buisness with you. Give Fiasco my reguards."

The goons didn't seem nearly as friendly, or rushed as Smith, but they had the money they were told to get, and no one got shot, so they didn't stop him from letting himself out.

With a wave goodbye, Smith straddled his bike, readjusted the dufflebag to compensate for the weight, and started to leave the parking lot. He was tired, and apparantly Alfie wanted this deal to go down tonight.

Smith didn't like that he would be playing by Alfie's rules, but at least being rushed mean Alfie was less likely to talk to Guido or Mickey. The tradeoff seemed fair, so he headed towards Pike's Place.

In front of Starbucks, north end of Pike's Place Market
Wednesday 8/19/70 23:46:45

Smith pulled up in front of the coffee pusher. It was dark now, having closed at ten, but this tourist area was well lit and heavily patrolled. That was one of the reasons he had agreed to show up blind like this, although that hadn’t stopped him from stopping at King Street Station on the way here and stowing his duffle and briefcases in a locker. The certified cred on his comm he’d scored from Frascesca would have to do for this transaction – he had no intention of letting himself get jacked as part of this little client screening process.

Dismounting, he took a look around and soon spotted a big, dark green van. It flashed its lights at him. Taking a few steps toward it, the rear doors swung open. Approaching, he saw what looked like a couple of bulky figures in the back. “Want to go for a ride?� Always cool as ice, he shrugged nonchalantly and reached for a handle to pull himself up, but they tossed a hood at him. “Put it on.� Once he’d complied, they’d pulled him in and locked it in place.

It breathed pretty well, and wasn’t anything annoying like a mage mask, as he’d feared.

The van started moving. The same voice explained to him that they were going to search him. They were gentle, but very thorough. Then no one spoke.

Fifteen minutes later he was led out of the van, onto the street, over a curb, some grass, creaky wooden steps and a wooden porch. He could hear young boys playing up the street. Behind him, some ladies chatted about a recipe. A screen door squeaked open and he was over the threshhold. The front door closed behind him, and the sweet smell of pot pierced the mask and filled his nostrils.

He was seated in an armchair upholstered in what felt like very old cloth. The mask came off and he was in a room festooned with Bob Marley posters and a huge variety of ornate bongs. Two men that he guessed were from the van stood by the door, but they didn’t speak and had ski masks over their faces. Black gloves on their hands.

In front of him was a coffee table made of a polished section of tree trunk. It was covered with ashtrays and magazines that did not look professionally printed.

Beyond that was a man in his fifties seated on a ratty red sofa that looked very comfortable. He had gray hair down to his waist and a full beard of the same color, and was smoking a joint. Behind him on the wall was a large mandala tapestry, with the central Buddha sitting on a marijuana leaf instead of a lotus, shooting up.

The man spoke and his voice sounded like he looked like it would sound. “No names man. And I hate to be a downer, but I’m gonna ask all the questions. What I gotta do, with your permission, is cast a spell. Not on you, brother. On me. It’s gonna open my eyes. Open my ears. Let me know if you speak with the forked tongue of The Man. But last thing I want to do is blow your wa, man. So if anything’s not cool, then we’ll make it cool, man. Perkins has got no malice against you, and neither do I. So you just say the word, and these dudes’ll take you back to wherever they picked you up and everything’ll be mellow. So what do you say?�

“Spell’s fine.�

“Right on. Now I need you to relax. Just don’t resist. I’ll know if you do, man, and you’ll get an F on the exam. Just close your eyes and be chill and..there it is. All done. No big thing, right? Now I just gotta ask you some real easy questions. There’s no wrong answers – the worst thing that can happen is you just go back where you came from and we never see each other again. Okay. Are you a member of or affiliated with any law enforcement agency, public or private?�

“No.�

“Do you intend to reveal information about the location of Mr. Perkins’ operation to anyone without his permission, or discuss your business with him with any third parties?�

“No.�

“Do you intend to cheat or otherwise deal falsely with Mr. Perkins in any manner, except as is necessary to ensure your own personal privacy?�

“No.�

“Is there any question you are hoping I don’t ask you right now?�

“No.�

“Are you answering honestly to the letter but cleverly concealing anything that you know very well I am looking for?�

“No.�

The man nodded sagely. “All right man. These guys’ll give you the address and take you back where you came from.�

And that is what they did.

Hotel Hell -- Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:16:00
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

After a bit more discussion, Fortunato said "Alright, I think we're in agreement. Assuming Fishbreath hasn't changed his routine then we pick him up at Rudolpho's, tail him to whatever hellhole he's going to and kill him. If he has tweaked his schedule then we probably are going to have to wait another day while we gather intel."

"We'll tail him astrally and on the matrix, because those seem to be his weak points. Then we blow the hell out of him."

He paused for a moment. "First order of business is picking up disguises and guns. Let's hit the van, call Johnson and head to the restaurant ASAP."

Seeing nodding heads and noting Sledge's silent assent he led the way to their recently redecorated vehicle. At the front entrance he left 100 concealed under a rock and talked Angel into sending a redirected message to the Posse's leader.

<<@Posse: Good work even though there was no news to tell. We've left a 100 bonus hidden under a rock near the hotel. If you get here in the next 2 hours a spirit will guide you to it.>>

Fortunato summoned a watcher, reminded it of the Posse leader's aura and joined the others in the van to brace himself for murder.

The Love van
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:16:00
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN: Hidden (earbud, subvocal mic)

As soon as Fortunato started rolling everyone out of the apartment Cerberus went back to the room where he had been laid out. Everything he had tossed on the bed was still there so he grabbed it all up. The wires and stuff from the medkit all fit easily back into the kit thanks to clear idiot proof signs and color coding. He looked around the room one last time and then headed out with the others.

There was still a disgusting mass of sckly looking people huddled downstairs and he was glad when he made it outside, he doubted he could have held his breathe for much longer. Breathing in the air outside in a big gulp it wasnt that much better. How did the people in here live like his. The thought of ending up in the barrens if this shadowruning thing failed was not appealing.

Cerberus waited for the doors to pop open and then hopped in the van and started unpacking everything. Today was all or nothing day and he was amped like he usually got before a fight. He hoped they could do some shopping or something eventually he was a little self conscience of showing off his chiselled body because of all the bony deposits scattered over his skin.

Leaving - Hotel Hell, Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:17:18
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

After the short planning session Rocky joined the others in quickly making sure he had all his gear, the little he owned at this point and double checking the room. Stopping to have a couple soybars and some water to keep his energy up and his body healing. He collected his gear and made his way out to the van at the back of the group keeping an eye out for anyone paying a little to much attention to the group.

Once outside he looked around some more, wondering to him self how he and his parents had survived somewhere like this and hoping Skinny had followed through on his promise to take care of his parents. HE would have to check on them at some point when all this shit with Louie had settled down, not that he would be able to see or talk to them anytime soon.

He made his way to the van climbing in behind Cerberus taking a seat on the bench across from him, waiting to see what happened next. Somehow he knew things would not go as simple as they had laid them out in the room.

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:51:13
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

Smith was relatively impressed with the professionalism shown by the mage. His questions were all reasonable, and he didn't mind answering them, since he really did want to do business with this 'Perkins' guy. His perseverance was rewarded when he was returned to the Starbucks in one piece, and given the address he was looking for. Well, actually, he wasn't quite sure why he was being given an address. It seemed like the guys hauling him around and putting bags over his head could just as easily take him to meet Alphie Perkins - but he wasn't about to start asking questions. After a polite goodbye, Smith returned to his bike and headed towards Auburn.

It was almost Wednesday and there was still no word from his team. He assumed that when their call was cut short earlier, it was one of three things. A, they got the fuck out of town, which would be good. B, Angel was fucking with him again, which would be bad. Or C, Louie got to them, and they all died mid-phone-call which would be... well, inconvenient. Not very likely either - Adam was quite sure that Louie might get lucky and off them tonight, but what would the odds be that it would happen during the 30-seconds he had checked in with them. Not likely at all.

In any case, even if they all got nuked, he would have to scrounge together some last-minute help and get this job done. Having not paid that team up front, and with Francesca's little boost, he just might be able to do that. Either way, he could put that gun to good use, if it was still around, so he wanted to take it off the market before somebody else did.

The day was starting to drag onto him. He had been up just shy of 20 hours, now, and the wine-dinner wasn't helping him stay awake. He missed two turns he needed to make, which took him in a rather round-about route, but, in hindsight, he justified it as taking extra precaution against being followed. Down deep, though, he knew he needed a rest.

This would be the last chore. Stop. Pick up the gun. Make a new friend. Go home.
....
Where the hell am I going to put a machine gun, until tomorrow?

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:51:25


Smith pulled up across the street and down the block a little from the address in question. I was neatly displayed in AR in front of the house, and all the intersections in this middle-class bedroom community sported mini-maps of the streets running off them. A Lone Star drone hummed quietly by overhead. It had probably scanned him and his bike without even pausing - thank goodness his bike was registered, he was SINned, and he'd left the last batch of contraband at King Street Station. He was probably already flagged as a newcomer to the neighborhood.

The lights were on in the two-story house. He saw a woman move across the living room window, and there were flashes of light as though someone were watching the trid. The address he'd been given included the instructions, "Ring at rear basement door."

So he dismounted, walked through the unfenced, well-mown yard, and found some cement steps leading to a plain-looking cellar door. There was a lone button, and ringing it got a gruff voice out of an intercom - "If you're not the punk about the Ingram, then get lost."

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:51:30
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

For a moment, Mr. Smith thought he had heard 'If you're the punk about the Ingram...', but he quickly realized his mistake. "I'm your punk," he replied, glancing at the neighboring houses to make sure nobody was watching him from the windows.

Leaving Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:20:05
Sledge - Outrider
PAN - Hidden

Behind her there was a lot of work, pipes, walls, wires, ceiling braces, fundamental infrastructure that needed attention before even the simplest things like broken windows and cracked walls should be patched up. She didn't look back, there was other work she had to do first. This was something she'd think about coming back and dealing with later. If there was such a thing.

Motor ticking over with muffled thumping, Sledge punched out her message. <<@Sugar Lips:: The Love Machine is rolling. Patched up. Bring the goodies to that truck stop where we hung out after our first date.>>

Algona, Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:52:00

The door opened and a grizzled-looking human appeared. He wore oil-stained coveralls and a Mariners cap. He was almost six feet tall and smelled of cigarette smoke. The beard covering his face grew in tangled knots, and it ran into his moustache so heavily that if his mouth was closed it was like he didn't have one to open. He motioned his customer in impatiently, and shut the door.

Passing the threshhold, Smith saw that what had looked like a simple synthwood door on the outside was actually made of several thick layers of densiplast.

Before him was what appeared to his untrained eye to be a fairly elaborate armorers' shop. Centered on a table in the middle of the room, surrounded by brushes and bottles was what he assumed was an Ingram White Knight light machine gun. His suspicion was quickly confirmed.

"There's the piece. Cleaned it up, but it was in real good shape to start with. They tell me it belonged to a troll but it ain't meta-modified - wouldn't need it cuz all the functions are skinlinked. Fair number of bells and whistles. And I got the gyroharness it was used with right over here. Already sorted the ammo into my inventory, to that's separate, but you can have the whole hardware package for fifteen-K."

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:53:30
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

Smith held up a hand as the man started to explain the features, but it didn't stop him from giving his pitch. When he threw down the number, Smith honestly wasn't sure if he should be happy that his earlier estimations weren't far off the mark, or sad that returning this gun to its rightful owner might cost him more than he really wanted to pay. Of course, on the phone earlier, he had (rightfully) led the man to believe that he had the advantage, due to having the exact item that Smith wanted in a hurry, and because he already expected some markup. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable time to counter-offer.

"Save the sales pitch, friend. I came asking about this specific weapon, so I already know what its got on it - and that its value has fluctuated over the last few days. I do appreciate the extra work you've put into polishing it up, though, and you deserve a little something extra for it - but this gun isn't going to do me a lot of good without the ammo to fire it, or a discrete way to get it out of here."

"So, I'll tell you what. How's about we call it 10-K," Smith paused to consider something, "no, 12-K," he added with a smile, "and you throw in a full clip of ammo and a bag or something for me to smuggle it out of here with."

"I was in such a rush to jump through your security hoops, I didn't have time to properly prepare for this meeting." The truth of the matter was that his duffel-bag was sitting in a locker somewhere full of shotguns and disguise kits - but it certainly wasn't here. Ditching it seemed like a good idea at the time, but as he imagined himself riding home on his bike with a light machine gun strapped to his back, he realized his lack of sleep had struck him once again. If he kept slipping up like this, his night might end sooner than he planned.

Algona, Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:55:00


"A bag or....???" Perkins looked like a cartoon character who'd just had a stick of dynamite go off in his hands. "What the...Do I look like a damned Samsonite dealer to you?! Awww, never mind. Twelve thousand."

And with that the man's hands went to the big weapon and in literally six seconds it lay on the table in pieces. "Anyone don't know how to reassemble that, you shouldn't let shoot it, unless you want the wrong people dead." He hauled a dusty leather bag off of a shelf and blew on it once, sending a cloud of detritus towards Smith, then from out of nowhere his hand held a huge clip, which he slapped down on the table with the rest. "For twelve, you can pack the bag yourself. That's one clip high-velocity, frangible-tipped - standard issue for that weapon...But I can do you a lot better than that, if you're still interested after I have that first twelve in my hands."

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:55:50
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

"Certified cred work for you, or do you literally want it in your hand?" As he spoke, he pulled out his commlink and began punching in the commands to transmit the agreed upon amount as soon as he saw the guys PAN. "If you want cash, we can work something out, but it'll be a hassle for us both."

Algona, Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:56:00

"Certified'll do just fine," the weaponsmith said, and an ARO popped up in the middle of the room to receive it. Smith could see the receiving institution was a very high-end-looking Swiss concern - the kind you paid interest to instead of receiving it from, but that had a century of proven stability, security and discretion behind it.

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:56:45
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

"Very good. I hope you are as pleased as I am." Smith said as he transfered the money. Once confirmation was made, he began to pack the bag, himself, padding the dismantled pieces with the gyroharness. "As for the ammo, I think that one clip will serve my needs, well enough - but it will eventually be gone. Would you object to further buisness, in the future? You certainly seem to know your craft, and I find myself increasingly in need of this sort of equipment...."

Algona, Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:57:00


Perkins raised his eyebrows when Smith mentioned one clip being enough, but he didn't say anything. When asked about future business, he simply said, "Always call first."

Somewhere in Auburn
Tuesday 8/19/70 23:57:40
Mr. Smith - Late-Night Customer
PAN - Hidden

"Will do." Smith said, as he slung the bag over one shoulder and headed out.

Adam's Dormroom
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:20:35
Mr. Smith - So tired
PAN - Hidden

Adam swung by his rented locker and picked up the rest of his gear before heading home. His luck saw him safely home, and when he got there he promptly collapsed.

He slept in, missed his class - but figured he could make it up, and get the notes later from a cute girl that sat near him. He woke up around noon, tried to contact his team again, and failed. He got a shower, and felt a million times better than he did the day before. Afterwards, still no word from the team - not even a voicemail.

He spent most of the afternoon bullshitting around with his roommate, and catching up on some of his assignments. He was basically trying not to think about how much trouble he was in if he had to put together a whole new team without Franco's help.

After a few hours fo that, he heard his work commlink beeping in the other room, and went to check on it.

<<@Sugar Lips:: The Love Machine is rolling. Patched up. Bring the goodies to that truck stop where we hung out after our first date.>>

He quickly typed back his reply, relieved to see any response at all.

<<@Sledge:: Perfect. When you get a chance, debrief me on the details of last night. I didn't expect to be quite that hands-off. Oh, and is Cattie still with you? I owe her an apology, I guess, and a second chance. Thanks for keeping an eye on things - see ya soon.>>

Then he grabbed up his bags and headed out for the meet.

Leaving Posse Turf, Sophocles, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:20:40
Sledge - Outrider
PAN - Hidden

<<@Sugar Lips:: Dark night. slumber party, girl talk. Angel still around for your sweet talking.. Couple boys in the hood wanted to crash party, so we kept quiet.>>

Sledge routed directions to the meet to the Love Machine and Angel.

Leaving the Barrens, Redmond
Wednesday 8/20/70 16:22:29
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

As soon as the doors closed Angel hit the gas and they were off, the trip out of the Posses turf was much faster than the trip in had been but Rocky didn't complain he just held on waiting for the word on the next step.

Apparently Sledge's demonstration with the Posse punks yesterday was still fresh in minds of the posse members as they watched the now dub'ed love machine make its way out of their home. You could see some nasty and worse looks aimed at the ork and the van as they left, but none were brave or was it stupid enough to try anything else, at least not right now.

Once out of the barrens the road got better and smoothed out, so Rocky sat back and pulled his comm. Doing a quick search he pulled the new stories he could on his disappearance to see what was being said about him and if he could find out how his parents were doing.

The search didn't take long, it hadn't even been three weeks since he had been running down the streets of downtown Seattle, but it seemed a lot longer. The Star and others were still looking for him, and they were making sure his picture was out there, not that it hadn't been out there allot before. As he searched he started to get a little worried, he started finding places where pics where showing up with what he might look like if he had changed his appearance, and well fuck, some of them were getting close. Guess I better do something about that sooner than later.

Other articles talked about how apparently all his money was gone, all Rocky could hope was that it was Skinny that had got it and not someone else. They were also looking into going after people from his staff thinking they knew something about what was going on. Thinking about Rocky was wishing their was something he could do about it, but really had no idea at this point what that might be. Maybe some of the others have an idea on how to take care of that.

The last thing he checked on was his parents, it looked like they were under 24 hour surveillance by the press and the Star he was sure, but at least for now they were still in the house.

After reading what he found Rocky cleared his comm and sat back waiting for the ride to be over so he could get this shit done and figure out his next step.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:02:20
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Smith made it to the truck stop pretty quickly, dispite having to navigate carefully with two bags on the bike. Unlike his previous meeting with the group, today he was well-rested, and dressed to kill in his 'Good Luck' suit. He took the time to remove the bags and set them beside his bike while he waited for the team.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:05:12
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN: Hidden (earbud, subvocal mic)

The ride out of the barrens and to this truck stop was quite. Rocky seemed to be doing something in AR, Angel was driving and Fortunato....well who the hell knew what he was doing being a mage and all. Cerberus just tried to relax and remember as much as he could from his time working with Loui. Sledge said they would be doing simulations? But he didnt know what she was talking about. Simulations where, in real life or AR or what? Would he need to download software for that? His fake SIN was blown.

All he could think about the entire ride was what would happen after tonight. Sledge came over the comms and told everyone they were "here". As Cerberus looked out through the front window he could see Johnson or atleast a guy who looked like Johnson standing next to a bike with some bags on the ground next to the bike. Angel pulled up next to him and parked the van.

Cerberus popped the back door and hopped out. Hopefully Johnson had all the goodies he had asked for. As Cerberus approached Johnson and the bags he couldnt help himself, "Wow thats a nice suit boss, looks like you had a better night than the rest of us." and judging by the way Johnson scrunched up his nose and made a stink face he knew Johnson whole heartedly agreed but didnt say anything. Pointing to the bags, "Is this our gear? Is it ok to put the stuff away in the van?"

Cerberus waited for orders. He wondered if they would be talking biz here or move somewhere else before talking about todays agenda. He had some questions of his own to ask now that he was more alert. Like how the hell did Johnson know he had been in trouble and what had Loui done to piss him off. Looking around at all the parked semi's some with trailers and some without thoughts of getting a job as a trucker filled his head breifly before his current situation popped up in his mind again.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:10:10
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson liked the tone Cerberus took, even if it was because he might be hoping those bags were full of toys for him. This could just be another example of people treating you better when you dress nice. Either way, it was working, and won some points. Johnson looked more 'in charge' and he felt more 'in charge'. It was yet to be seen if he would actually be treated as someone 'in charge', but he was ready to find out.

He held up a hand gently to keep the troll from grabbing up the bags, right away. "Just a sec, I wanted to say a few things first." He caught a look from Sledge as she dismounted her bike that reminded him of something between amusement and whatever the opposite of surprise is called. Something like, 'oh boy, another long-winded speech'. He cracked a smile, himself, waiting for everyone to file out.

"Okay, people," he started, not really sure what he was going to say, but becoming more and more used to that feeling. "I think yesterday turned out to be a lot more exciting and dangerous than any of us expected it to be, and it sounds like you had a pretty shitty night. My apologies. I hope we're all in agreement that none of us want to spend any more nights like that, than are absolutely necessary."

"I think, yesterday, I may not have made the best first impression." He looked directly at Cattie. "Some of us got off on the wrong foot." He returned his gaze to the rest of the group, "and I sincerely want to make it up to you, and to start by fulfilling my end of our bargin." He reached down opening his own bag, retrieving his briefcases. He didn't show what else was in there, but the bag was clearly not empty. "I'm about to talk-shop, so I'm going to do it over the comm." He tapped at his ear as he stood back up.

<<"Sledge and Fortunato,">> he looked back and forth between those two, <<"you have both fulfilled your end of the original mission, having successfully extracted the others.">> As he spoke, his lips moved, but didn't make a sound. His voice, slightly distorted as the subvocal motion was amplified was broadcast to the team. <<"You also went above and beyond my expectations. You've earned your pay, and don't owe me anything, but if you're in this for the long-haul, I would be very happy to have you on the team. I'll gladly pay you both as soon as is convenient. The bonus we talked about is still on the table, if you're still willing to see this job through to the end, but if it has become more than you barginned for, I understand if you want to bow out.">>

<<"In fact, I want to formally extend that same offer to the rest of you. Rocky, Cerberus, Angel, I took a big gamble on you guys, and it looks like my instincts were right. All three of you have proven to have skill, skills the three of us lack, and skills that Louie fears. I'm hoping that the fact that you made it through the night without being found by his goons proves you make a good team, and you're stronger together than you are alone. I'm willing to offer you each a little something, just to help you get back on your feet when this is over - if you're willing to stick together.">>

<<"If anyone here thinks they're better off on their own, there won't be any hard feelings. I'll wish you luck on your new life, but I'm not going to spend another nuyen sending you on your way. I'm going to need that money to replace you.">>

<<"However, my plan has been, from the beginning, to put together a team of Shadowrunners. Not for this mission, at all - I could give a fuck less about Louie Finnigan - but this makes a convenient dry-run. I think we could all benifit from working together, longer-term. To that end, I'm prepared to give five thousand dollars, cash, to anyone willing to stick around to see Louie pay for his crimes, and who is on board with making more money, down the road - as a team.">> As he said it, he was quickly adding up numbers in his head, to make sure he didn't promise something he didn't have. It was close. What he was hoping to make as profit to cover his mom's medical expenses had probably just become a risky investment in her future - but if it meant he patching thigns up with the team, and got them psyched for more, it was worth it. He could make more money doing this 'Johnson' thing than he ever did working for the mob. <<""I'm willing to give it to you, up front, right now, because I know that not a single one of us, myself included, can just walk away from this, anymore. Also, those of you with any experience doing this sort of thing already know how suicidal it is to take someone's money and then double-cross them.">> He couldn't help but glance at the two trolls. He wasn't sure if they made the connection, or not, but it wasn't important.

<<"I don't want there to be any misunderstanding.">> Johnson tried not to focus on Angel but the effort just made it more obvious that he was thinking about her, as he spoke. <<"This is a downpayment, a signing bonus, so to speak. If you accept my money, or my assistance,">> he said as he gestured towards his bags. <<"...you're part of my team. That makes me the boss. Treat me with respect, and I promise to do the same to each of you. Help me, and I'll help you. I'm a cool guy, and I'm easy to get along with, but fuck with me, and you'll wish Louie found you before I did. If any of you have a problem with that, this is not the team for you. This is not even the right profession for you.">>

<<"So, who's still in?">>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:11:01
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky hoped out of the back of the van, taking a quick look around the empty parking lot being much more aware of how recognizable he was than he had been a couple hours earlier.

He shuffled his feat and stretched a little as Johnson spoke, thinking to him self when Johnson offered the money, Damn, I wounder how much plastic surgery that would get me?

Once Johnson was done Rocky spoke up first. <<@Team:: I'm in as long as you don't ask me to kill kids. You see where I ended up with the last boss that did that.>> After he finished Rocky looked over at Angel and nodded in her direction.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:13:24
Cerberus - Street Samurai
PAN: Hidden (earbud, subvocal mic)

<<@team:: "Your offering to put a roof over my head and put food in my belly and I get to have all that free time while we arent working? That sounds great. But yeah like Rocky said, I'm not really into killing people unless they are trying to kill me or it has to be done to save my ass.">>

Cerberus thought to himself, geez this guy is just one giant asshole. Even after the guy probably went home and slept in his nice luxurious home and had a great nights sleep and put on a fancy suit he still insist on rubbing peoples faces in their own mistakes and flaws. Constantly degrading people isnt how to earn their respect dude. Maybe after this shit is over tonight his attitude will change, but whatever, I need that money he is laying down.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:13:41
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson nodded at both trolls. <<"Agreed. No killing kids, or anyone else where we can avoid it. Glad to have you two aboard.">>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:13:41
Angel - Technomancer - Hidden
PAN - Hidden

<<"I guess I'm in until I'm free from Louie, I have no other choice right now.>>, the elven girl's voice admitted over the matrix feed to the team.
Then directly to Johnson's ears, <<"Ok, then. We'll start over. I'll treat you fair as the boss, but dont expect me to be a yes-girl if you're being a jerk.">>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:13:46
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson responded to Angel, by text, a moment later, <<@Angel:: Deal. And if I am being a jerk, let me know nicely and I'll stop. Thanks for the second chance.>>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:13:55
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

Fortunato was exasperated. They didn't have time for Johnson's theatrics right now.

<<@Team: We don't have the time for this, Louie's probably already at the restaurant.

Look, The three fugitives are in because they don't have a choice it's this or getting hunted down. I'm in because I want to get paid. Sledge is probably also in for that reason, I don't know for sure. Regardless, she already knows enough about the op to blow it wide open if she wants to and I'm sure she'll let us know if she's going to bail.

So Johnson, I hate to steal your moment, but please give us the bags and then hop in the van or roll out on your own (your call). We've got a tight timetable to keep if we want to get this done without having to go to ground for another night.>>

He breathed out for a moment composing himself.

<<@Ops: Rocky I seem to remember you saying that Louie usually arrives at 5:00 PM. That means we're already 15 minutes late for our first date. When does he usually leave the restaurant?

Does anyone have photos of him? or are we going to need a troll on site to finger the guy?>>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:16:04
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky was glad to hear that it appeared everyone would be sticking around for a little while.

He nodded as Fort posed the question to him, <<@Team:: Well it just depended on what he had going on but late afternoon or early evening we would show at the restaurant and hang till Louie was ready. The earliest we got out of there was about six one night. But most nights it was seven or eight.>>

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:17:12
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson looked disappointed that his speech was being cut short, but he understood. "Very well," he said aloud. "It looks like you guys have a timetable down, and a plan in place. I won't get in your way." He hefted the first bag over one shoulder, and took a step towards the van. "This guy's got a couple of toys for the group. nothing spectacular, but I think they'll help." He nodded at Cerberus and then at the leather bag. "That one's got a special little surprise in it. Cerb, I think you'll recognize it - and if you'd rather take what's inside, instead of your payment, you're welcome to. Otherwise, I want it back when you're done putting it to use."

When he got to the back of the van, he tossed his bag and then went back to his briefcases. Looking back and forth and Sledge and Fortunato he asked. "So, if you've got a plan, can I be of service? Or would I just be in the way?"

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:17:37
Rocky - physical adept
PAN: Hidden

Rocky wasn't really expecting anything in the bags that would make a big difference to him for the nights activities, and since his paranoia had kicked he headed back to the van. He took up a spot on one side of the van, leaning his back against it where he could keep an eye out in the other direction for anyone getting close or paying to much attention.

Truck Stop[b]
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:17:15
Fortunato - Support Mage
PAN - Hidden (Contacts, Earbuds, Smartlink)
Astrally Inactive

[b]Fortunato furrowed his brow before responding.

"We need people on site at Rudolpho's to finger Louie as he leaves and make sure the rest of the team knows which vehicle to follow. These people need to be inconspicuous, not known by the mob and not necessary for the actual assassination."

"Disguises and magical masks can help with the not being recognized part, but just to play it safe, I'd rather not have any of our fugitives be the point man (or men)."

"Since I definitely need to be with the assassination crew in order to provide on-site magical support, that leaves you and Sledge as our potential spotters. If you're in, that's probably where we'd use you, especially if you know how to flag Louie's car with computers or something ...."

He trailed off as the subject of technology was broached and then eyed Johnson and Sledge equally waiting for a response from the former and a nod of approval or objection from the latter.

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:18:32
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson nodded, then looked at Sledge to see if she had any strong feelings about the plan. "I would expect that by now, he has seen most of our faces. Angelo survived, the other day. There are 6 disguises in that bag. He motioned towards the van. They're latex masks and will at least hide who you are, or, with a bit of computer magic we should be able to program them to look like someone else." He raised an eyebrow at Angel. He wasn't too certain on that last part, it sounded like a cool super-spy gadget, but he knew a bit about computers and still wasn't sure he could put together a passable forgery without some really good data. If anyone could pull it off, he was confident that she could.

"Either way, I don't mind being the point-man. At least to give you guys a head's up and a description of his vehicle. By the time he gets in one, it'll be tough to tag it, trace it, or crack it open. If I get the chance, I'll see what I can do."

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:18:50
Sledge - Closer
PAN - Hidden

Almost just like another ride in the country. Diesel and ozone odors coloring the truck stop. Monster rigs rolling through covering most of the chatter. She'd let everyone talk, checked the bag by feel, then slung it over the back of her bike. The keebler had finally jumped in, interrupting Sledge's serious contemplation of painful injuries that wouldn't hamper Sugar Lips ability to pay buyen. It boiled down to the realization that as long as he was alive and conscious he could probably authorize payments.

"Not a tusker, trog or dandelion eater, stand out less. Best finger would be one that doesn't know us at all, but you'll do. Point and fade, we got the rest. Tricky though, finger has to point for real eyes. No substitutes."

Sledge turned to throw a leg over her bike, "Best not to know what each others doing to setup, but arrange a signal, then we eyeball it, go from there."

Sitting on the bike, "You can't help but talk."

Truck Stop
Wednesday 8/20/70 17:19:26
Mr. Smith - Johnson
PAN - Hidden

Johnson stood there silently for a moment. He had to roll the words over in his mind a second before any of it snapped into place. Sledge had a knack for hiding what she was talking about that Adam kind of admired, but he wasn't sure how much of it was intentional. In the end, he was slightly offended at her implication that he might blab, but understood - she made a good point. If he was fingered, in turn, and taken by Louie's men... well, Adam liked to think he was a cool enough guy, but he didn't think he would stand up to torture for very long - especially for a gang of almost complete strangers. Hell, if things go wrong the other way, he'd prefer they not know too much about where he'll be hiding out.

Better to let the professionals do their thing. If it comes down to it, it might make for a more convincing lie if I don't know the truth.

"Fair enough. Got a favorite signal? How close by are you planning to be?" His question was leading. He actually thought he misunderstood part of Sledge's plan, and was hoping to get her to elaborate before jumping to the wrong conclusion. Near as he could tell, she wanted someone to physically see him making some signal indicating their target. It seemed to him that if the team was that close, and within visual range, they could ID him, themselves. The three fugitives had a much clearer memory of what this guy looked like anyways. "Oh, and Angel if you could work your magic and refresh my memory. We'll all be in a world of trouble if I ID the wrong guy." His amusement was quite visible, and the suggestion that he might not recognize Louie didn't seem to bother him.