The big diesel has little problem with the slick streets. The heavy frame adding ample weight for traction on the oil covered roads. The freeway isn't too busy on the 30 minute ride up. The hum of the tires on the road lull some of you to a half sleep like state. Jason sacks out next to Danny, his breathing regular and consistent.

Traffic grows more dense the closer the Bison get's to the heart of the 'plex. Just before turning the big slow turn to the left, Grendel pulls the Bison off an exit that deposits them just north of the Stadiums, and on the road that leads to Rainier Ave.

(OOC: Perception check from Grendel please)

You drive past the I-90 over pass and take the next left. A small sign proclaims a restaurant on the corner as "Teriyaki World". According to the computer the safe house is two blocks up a very steep hill and on the left. The big engine grunts as it moves the van up the hill. The neighbor hood seems mostly lower-class and somewhat abandoned. The safe house is a small house, set back from the road and surrounded by a 3 foot shabby hedge. There really isn't anyplace to park but the side of the road. The actual road is about 100 meters long and ends in a cul-de-sac.

Passing by the safehouse, Grendel turns around in the cul-de-sac, before parking at the curb.

"Team, Base, I'll cover from outside. Get some rest. Six, let me know once you've secured our border crossing pass."

Jessie opens up the back door to the van and steps out into the cold night. She throws her pack over her shoulder and then lights up a clove cigarette. Inhaling deeply on the sweet smelling clove, she lets her eyes and ears to their work, getting a good feel for the neighborhood.

"One and Four, why don't you guys come with me and check out the place before we bring the kid inside. I don't want to take any chances with this."

Danny makes sure that Jason is still sleeping. Shifting his perception to the Astral, he calls his Watchers, instructing two of them to keep watch over his postition while the other two again accompany the mage, Delacroix.

That done, he then works his way forward to where Grendel sits, still jacked in to the Bison, and extending his hand to the elf rigger.

"That was some mighty fine flyin' y'all did back there."

The elf's cyberarm remains motionless where it rests on the arm of the command couch. His voice reaches out over the radio, devoid of emotion.

"Thanks."

The house is very quiet and dark. Police sirens can be heard in the distance. A dog barking down the street pierces the night, but not much else. The windows are boarded up, and the door takes some effort to force open. The inviting smell of Almond Soykaf fills the air inside. A quick search of the 2 bedroom house reveals a makeshift table with readyeat© meals and a brewing pot of coffee. A note is stuck to the side of th epot that reads,

Best I could do on short notice.

-Z

Jessie steps back outside and gives everyone a nod.

"Clear."

Warpath nods to Jessie. "I'll just take quickly look around the sides." He does a stoicly silent sweep of the area, his hands looking empty without the assault rifle in them. This type of environment just doesn't exactly call for high fire power, and being seen with it is definitely bad.

When he finishes, he joins the rest of the team inside and warms up a bit.

Jessie makes her way into one of the bedrooms and tosses her pack down on the floor. She then stretches out and leans her head on the pack, using it for a makeshift pillow.

"Everyone get some rest, Base is on watch."

With that, she closes her eyes and drifts almost instantly to sleep.

@ Grendel,

The night passes slowly, with only the hum of electronic components to keep you company. The occasional thought pops in your head, like memories you cant get rid of. A night on the farm, a moment underground. The look on your sisters face the last time you saw her.

@ Warpath,

The warm glow of your sg link tells you the Alpha ready to go. Next to the clock that says 0200. The corner of the living room you are staked out in is quiet, and gives you a good view of the house and all the exits. Try as you might, sleep does not come.


@ Jessie,

Sleep is like falling into a feather mattress, you dream of pleasent things and have no worries.

@ Danny,

Jason is greatful when you help him into the house, still a little weak from his ordeal. He finds a quiet corner and racks out. The rain outside has let up and an eerie quiet has filled the neighbor hood.

Virtual windows shift and reorder themselves in response to half-formed commands, surveillance feed from the Condor overhead, schematics, tactical downloads, lessons learned from the tilt-wing flight. The EW interface and BattleTac command console are everpresent, each set with their individual tripwire responses. The memories are transient, images from a nightmare he can never divest himself of, although he lingers on his sister. Once this was mission was done, and he was sure that all possible traces back to him were terminated, when he could once again establish the necessary security envelopes, he would see her again. Until that time, though, there was only the network, the team, the enemy, and the certainty of a three kilogram trigger pull.

The mage leaves the house and walks back towards the Bison. ...and enters the front cabin of the Bison on the passenger side.

Delacroix's eyes meet Grendels and the answer is given, "I can't sleep." The elf sighs and continues, "I never can sleep now a days, not since the accident with the 'Good Doctor'." The elf pauses again, "I figure since i'm awake I might as well hangout with you."

The secondary display screen in front of Delacroix's seat flickers to life, the false-color image feed from the Condor replacing its stand-by pearlescent gray. After a moment, network-generated icons appear on the display as well, blue numerals hovering where each teammate is, while the child just rescued is indicated by a yellow circle. Currently, no red icons are displayed. A narrow text window opens along the bottom of the screen.

What do you think of the mission so far? Think they're going to hit us at the rendezvous?

After settling in, Blackjack decides to find a jackpoint. She takes out her deck and tears off the plastic. She finds a nearby tridphone jack and plugs in her deck. With a low 'click', the optical cable enters her datajack. To another jack, she attaches her pocket pc for storage of anything interesting. Over the radio, Blackjack sends a message.

"I'm going online to get us a border pass. Wish me luck. One of you might want to hook a medkit up to me to monitor my condition in case I run into trouble. Six out."

Blackjack lays back on the floor to give her body a rest. It's going to be another all-nighter most likely. She's used to them by now, since she plays online matrix games. She closes her eyes and enters the matrix.

A rush of datastreams bombards her senses as Blackjack jumps into her persona. The LEDs on her Novatech Hyperdeck-6 begin to flash and blink as it comes online.

Blackjack is instantly materialized as a flaming humanoid with four cyberarms in the matrix. She checks out her surroundings and loads up some defensive utilities, Armor, Deadly Attack, and Medic, along with some standard utilities, Deception, Browse, Scanner, Analyze, and Sleaze. She looks around at the doorways before her and finds the one that will connect with the central access point. She darts toward a doorway before her that leads to the regional telecomm grid (RTG). Before she steps through the portal, Blackjack looks around to make sure that she isn't being watched.

Delacroix reads the question. The elfs lips move, and the sound of his monotone voice carries softly over the air in response, "Too easy for too much." The elf pauses and continues, "I suspect an attack, but I fear we may have caused a ripple through the NAN nations like a rock causes in a pond."

"The NAN nation is powerful, they are the ghost dancers. Their magic if sloppy and not precise, yet very potent. We may wish to lay low after this depending on how things turn out."

Danny pulls a chair over next to where Blackjack is jacked in, settling in to watch over her while she cruises the Matrix.

Lay out the players. Do we know who stands to gain from this extraction? Do we know who stands to lose? Going to ground isn't a question, it was the plan from the get-go. If you're looking for company, I'll back you.

@ Blackjack

The electronic horizon opens up to you with the clarity of the sky. Information packets flow like lightning across the event horizon. The RTG opens up, and the path to the NAN RTG is wide open. Your scan reveals no one following you.

@ BlackJack,

The RTG of the NAN nations stands in front of you like a giant palisades. The guards (IC) walk the walls checking all traffic who come through. You slip into line with the standard telcom traffic and disguise yourself as a long distance call. The guards give you a once over before giving you the green light. The NAN RTG spreads before you, an open program to plunder.

Blackjack breathes a virtual sigh of relief once she gets to the other side of the access door. With baited breath, she begins searching for the access node to the border patrol's network, keeping one eye over her shoulder to make sure no one follows her.

Neither do I. I have not kept abreast of current Salish politics. Ordinarily in this situation I would recommend and conduct a little legwork, but Zoe has insisted upon strict radio silence. Not a policy I enjoy working under.

Warpath tries to find a fitful sleep, but even that will not come. Something about the air has his senses, amped to the max as they are, tingling. The warm green 3D image of the house and surroundings buzzes in his brain, with a few icons indicating the last known positions of team members and the target.

With a sigh, he rises, pulling the Ares close to him and walks through the house, his boots making little noise on the flooring as he moves with practiced steps. He looks in on Jessie's sleep and the decker's run but doesn't interrupt either. The steady pulse of the ammunition counter from his weapon in the lower right hand corner of his vision is the only company he needs at a time like this.

He peers out windows as he passes them, watching for any sign of movement.

How its possible for Jessie's small frame to produce such large snores is beyond even the wisest of men, but none the less, she lays in bed making noises you'd expect from a 500 pound troll.

@ BlackJack,

THe NAN RTG spreads out before you, your browse program returns your search. With a thought you are standing in front of the Border Patrol public office. You pass through the local crap, brochures, and procedures. A little further back you run into your first real challenge. A locked data file with an encryption on it. You bypass the lock and run your encryption program. The seconds tick away as the program runs. You look about, scanning for IC or other Deckers. It all seems to be clear. Your program beeps, and the file unlocks.

You scan thorugh it. It is the borderpass template.

Speed is life.

A yawn escapes Danny as he continues his watch over the decker's semi-comatose form. He removes his leather bomber jacket, revealing an old Jet Black Lives! t-shirt, and applies a patch of Long Haul to his upper left arm.

With the file open for perusal before her, Blackjack scans over it and forms an image of the data that must be entered onto the pass form. With a wave of her hand, the data fields are filled in. She closes the file and saves it, changing the headers to make it look legit. With a smile, Blackjack says, "All done!" and steps back to log off.

The system makes the changes, the pass fill out and logs itself into the border patrol mainframe. Once your subroutine is finished clearing all traces of your presence the program kicks in and you log off. Your eyes pop open and you see Danny's mug above you. The shaman watching over you carefully.

Blackjack is startled by the sight of Danny as she returns to the real world. She lets out a gasp and lurches sideways before she realizes who she is looking at.

Blackjack smiles and giggles, saying, "Sorry. I wasn't expecting that."

She disconnects her datajack and pocket pc from her brain and sits up. "I was able to get a pass for us. No one saw me."

She quickly gathers the two computers up and puts them away.

Danny nods, smiling in response to Blackjack's seeming light-heartedness.

"Good job!" The shaman pauses for a second, eying the tired-looking decker. "Are y'all alright? D'ya need anythin'?"

Blackjack holds a hand to her head for a moment and then brushes her hair back with it. She says, "No, thanks. I'm fine. I'm going to get some rest."

With a smile, Blackjack turns to leave the room. She finds a reasonably comfortable place to curl up and sleep.

The rest of the night passes smoothly. The night air is cool and moist as the dawn breaks. A thick fog rolles in from the west as the sun rises over the cascades. The Bison, and the ground, sports a thick coat of dew.

Jessies headphone rings to life, Zoe's voice fills her ears.

"I hope the night past smoothly for you guys. I talked to Blaze, his team will be in position by 10 am. I hope you guys can make it."

Grendel, your sensors run around the clock, mapping out a an area of engagement around the big diesel. So far, nothing more than a barking dog has entered your area of interest.

Warpath's restless footfalls echo in still silence around the house. The big Samurai on constant edge as he treads a random path over thr area of the property.

After Blackjack jacks out and eventually turns in for the night, Danny settles back in his chair, and once again frees his Astral form. He lazily does a citcuit of the house and surrounding grounds, looking for any signs of intrusion.

Frowning at the sight of the still-unwarded Bison, he shakes his head, wondering why the mage Delacroix didn't think to make more productive use of his sleepless hours. Danny returns his Astral form to his body, then heads outside to the van. Once there, he goes about the task of Warding the vehicle.

Warpath keeps up his aimless patrol, the fatigue that should have been setting in not finding him yet.

to Zoe, "We'll be there."

"Alright team, things are a go. Lets get on the road."

Jessie grabs her pack and walks out to the van, taking her seat and buckling in.

Blackjack gets up slowly, her back having cramped up from sleeping on the hard floor. She makes a beeline for the bathroom to relieve herself and take a shower quickly. Twenty minutes, and she is out. With no clean clothes to put on, Blackjack has no choice but to put on her old ones. When she returns to the main room with a towel around her hair and her clothes on, Blackjack has a frown on her face and says, "Ick! I'll be glad when this is over. I didn't bring a change of clothes, so I had to put on the ones I've been wearing."

Blackjack takes out a brush she found in the bathroom and begins running it through her still wet hair. She carries any other beauty supplies that she found in the bathroom with her and tries to freshen up a bit without a mirror. Whatever she can't do without a mirror, she will do in Grendel's Bison, using his rear view mirror.

"What are we having for breakfast everyone? Fast food on the way?"

As if in response to BlackJack's question, the tiny microwave in the Bison's hab section beeps in completion. The small heating tray automatically ejects from the unit, revealing a steaming soy breakfast burrito wrapped in foil. The slim woman sighs in disappointment, then in true dismay when she realizes that the Bison's upgrades have left it without even the basic (meta)human controls, including an interior mirror. With an absent flick of command over the virtual comm console, Grendel isolates a channel between himself and BlackJack.

"Six, Base, check utility locker 2. There's some gear in there from...previous teammates. You might be able to find something fresh in there."

With that, he reconnects them to the general team push.

Blackjack says, "Ok. Thanks, Grendel!" she replies over the comm radio.

She opens up the locker and finds a small compact mirror. It has some dirt on it, but is otherwise ok. She wipes it off with her finger and uses it to beautify herself with the items from the safehouse. She uses some spray-in conditioner in a pump bottle to flatten down her now frizzy hair before rebrushing it into a more presentable state. Blackjack continues to primp herself until her appearance is somewhat satisfactory. She also tries out some of the make-up from the safehouse, using a washcloth that she brought along to wipe off any that she doesn't like. Blackjack uses one hand on the locker to steady herself for tasks that require fine detail in case of a sudden bump in the road.

Once she is finished, Blackjack sits back down and breathes a sigh of relief, smile of contentment on her face, which is now cute and beautified almost to her normal standards, "Ahh! Glad I don't have to go to the meet looking like hell now. That would have been bad!"

"Lets get this show on the road everyone."

The Bison roars to life, the big diesel engine rumbling as Grendel pulls out onto the road. A few minutes pass and the vehicle settles into a comforting rhythm on the freeway heading east. A few cars can be seen on the road with you, but mostly it is just standard traffic. The farther you get away from the city, the lighter the traffic becomes.

A few miles from the border the road is all but deserted. Overland automated freight haulers pass the Bison in either direction, but not much of anything else can be seen.

"Six, Base, why don't you sit in the driver's seat when we cross the border. You're familiar with our paperwork. Jack in using one of the auxiliaries so it looks like you're driving with the virtual dashboard."

"If you like, I could ride shotgun or something. We may need my skills to bluff past the guards, plus I have a Salish SIN that may come in handy."

Having finished his Warding ritual literally only minutes before Grendel fires up the Bison's engine, Danny flops himself down in a seat in the back of the van.

Removing his hat, he runs his hand through his dark hair while watching Blackjack struggle through her ministrations. With a sly grin, he goes about casting a couple of minor grooming spells on himself, sloughing off the grime from their previous activities, and giving both himself and his clothes the appearance of being freshly-scrubbed.

Chuckling under his breath, he winks as he catches the decker's eye.

Jessie gives the elf a smile, jumps into the frontseat, and buckles in.

I-90 comes to an end and the begining of the NAN's interFed highway begins. The border station isn't far beyond that. The four building complex is situated over the highway. Three of the roads are gated, the fourth is used for automated traffic only. A large caliber, multi-barreled, machine gun on a swivel mount rests on the far left. The weapon automatically tracks incoming traffic, it unnervingly swivels to the the Bison, and follows it until the vehicle comes to a stop on the yellow line.

The guards are dressed in smart uniforms, black shiny boots, green uniforms with brass buttons, and red berets. The officers carry a Predator III in black shiny holsters. They are obviously dressed up, however, the massive machine gun tells you they are deadly serious.

"Welcome to the Salish Shidhe border," the guard says in his thick accent to Jessie.

"What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Purely recreational, sir. I'm paying a visit to some friends and maybe doing some camping."