Little physical risk, my ass. Alarms are shrilling in her head. And images. A hauntingly pale young woman in mechanical cocoon. A young man, a troll, bleeding from his ears and nose. Esther sits forward, looking keenly at the Russian woman and waits for her response.

"Discreet doesn't normally take four employees of varying backgrounds hired on by a security company like Watanabe, if you get my drift."

She watched the woman who was their "face" from where she stood across the room to the left of the door. She leaned back against the wall and kept her posture quite relaxed as she spoke.

"Is the job local? If there is travel or other expenses that arise during our "discreet investigation" is that to come from our 18-kay, or is there an additional expense account available to us if necessary. I'd assume we don't find out specifics about the "certain outfit" until we sign on for the long haul?"

She'd been on the other side of the negotiations so many times before, she was almost certain she could anticipate what the woman's next thoughts could be, or even how she'd answer. Sure it made A'ja a little cocky, but she didn't get paid what she did for being green, or stupid.

Taking another long drag on her cigarette, Ludmila’s cybereyes gave A’ja a long and good once over. She answered John’s question without looking over toward him.

“Time isn’t an issue… but the faster things get done, the faster everyone will be happy.”

She finally lulled her head to the side, looking at the man, as the tip of her cigarette grew fiery red.

“Depending on how things unfold… the worst opposition we might face will be privatized security agents.”

Ludmila took the cigarette out of her mouth, tapping it gently against the edge of the shooter. As she ashes, head slightly down, Ludi looked up toward A’ja.

“Varying backgrounds insure the widest range of operational skills, and inuendos isn’t one that we require at the moment.”

She brought the cigarette back to her lips.

“If the need for travel comes up, things will be taken care of.”

Another cloud of smoke went up to the ceiling.

“Anyone not interested” she leaned a little backwards “the door’s there.”

Juan watches their prospective employer silently as she tackles the first round of questions. As far as he can tell, she carried herself like someone who's seen combat in the front lines, and seemed to be as professional as any he's ever dealt with. However...

"'We'? You are coming with us, madame?"

The sole of her heavy boot slipped off the table’s side, thudding loudly as it hit the floor. Ludmila turned her attention toward Juan, peering at him thru the smoke that was already starting to fill up the tiny room. Giving him a sly smile, she brushed off a strand of black hair from her forward.

“Is that a problem?”

"Not at all. I was just curious because it isn't standard operating procedure 'round these parts."

Juan shrugs. "Anyway, you can put my name down for the job. Payment seems fair enough, and the cast promises to be intriguing."

"Same here," Penta replies.

As satisfied as she can be with the lack of information, Esther nods. She notes that Juan seems comfortable in this situation and wonders what more about her roommate she doesn't know. She'll take cues from him for a bit. Tension sings along alloyed nerves. She stands up, since the Russian woman started talking she hadn't said more than a few words together at a time. "I need to get my gear. It's close."

Privatized security agents...and I'm sure none of them moonlight...

A'ja sighed softly as everyone tossed their hat in the ring, still 4500 was 4500 and would go a long way to fleshing out the savings account. And if it meant anything was more on the up and up, their Johnson was accompanying them.

She nodded slowly from the back.

"If we're all on the clock now, can we skip the cloak and dagger shit and get down to specifics?"

Giving a quick once around the small room, Ludmila seemed rather satisfied that things were going her way. Since setting foot in the room, her attitude had been slightly detached, as if she had other things to take care of… other places to be.

Truth be told, Ludmila simply didn’t want to be there. But she was a trooper… and so, she had no choice but to show up and do her job.

“Good good.” she simply said, crushing her smoke in the now pretty much filled shooter.

She picked up her pack, took yet another cigarette out… but didn’t light it. She simply brought it up and slipped it behind her ear, her cheap bright green plastic lighter twirling between her fingers.

“A corporation named Takara Inc believes some of it’s data was either lost or stolen. Until recently, they had simply no idea what had happened with said data… until a certain memo from a rival company, Ikeda Ent, was… brought to their attention.”

The lighter stopped it’s little dance.

“The memo, from a mid-level exec at Ikeda, contained information hinting at the fact that said person was distancing himself from a decision made to secure data from Takara off-line storage units.”

She flicked the flame on and off once.

“In short, Ikeda has probably stolen Takara’s data, and we are to retrieve it.”

Penta is quiet, as he calls up as much data as he can find on the two corps on his commlink, to display on his imagelink.

After he does, Penta speaks quietly. "Ouch. It looks like the fight between these corps is half business, half family feud. On the other hand, it looks like Ikeda isn't in the best of shape financially. Do we know anything about what exactly their funding crunch has done to their security operations?" Obviously, it's probably hurt those security forces. But how?

"This is not intel I currently have access to" said Ludmila, her eyes drifting upwards as if she was looking for something "but as you've said, they are in certain financial troubles."

That gets a nod from Penta. "Okay. No more questions from me, then."

Ludmila
Referencing your data link for the briefing materials, you pull up the barebones information you have about the security forces. Ikeda privatized their security forces shortly after the schism between the two sisters. Their security forces while few in number, were highly loyal and fewer in number than most corporations of the same size. Many had wetware enhancements or were awakened, possibly explaining the smaller number.

Esther sets the search parameters for a her Agent. A mission it chooses to accept. This datastream will self-destruct in 3800ms. A bass driven groove replete with brassy horn stabs starts across her soundlink.

"This strikes me as a bad place to discuss particulars." Esther relaxes into a contraposto stance and adjusts the long fawn-colored coat across her broad shoulders, hands smoothing the fabric carefully down her front. She tosses her head at the Russian. "You have a place in mind, drop me a line. I'm gonna get my stuff."

If she hurries, she can avoid re-upping the locker for the next hour.

The tall troll woman heads for the door, "I'll be back within a half-hour. Or you can message me if you take off," She drops her commcode on the Russian. She smiles at her roommate on the way out, a look a disbelief registering briefly before the door shuts. In the bar, she stops and retrieves her extendable baton with a murmur of thanks before exiting.

Once out on the street she gets a good ground-eating pace going as she tries to beat the clock to the rental locker.

Esther
You arrive at the storage locker with a few moments to spare and scoop up your belongings into your gym bag. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you head back out to the street.

//Incoming Personal Message
//RE: Current Assignment
//Scan this. Something is off.
//Taylor

//Incoming Data Transmission

Paradise O
Following the sudden departure of one of the new hires for this contract, the room returns to the same quiet as before. Individuals exchange glances, check commlinks or nurse their drinks.

Esther starts the trek back to the Paradise O.

//Incoming Personal Message
//RE: Current Assignment
//Scan this. Something is off.
//Taylor

//Incoming Data Transmission

Esther's brows furrow. Off. Great. She shakes her head irritably and accepts the file.

// Data Transmission Accepted

Penta nurses his drink, checking his comlink, glancing at Ludi.

"Would we happen to have any leads?" He asks.

Esther
The file transfers to your commlink and opens at your prodding. Enclosed is footage of a newsfeed from a gang-based attack on a clinic in the industrial sector between Tacoma and Downtown. Halloweeners attacked the clinic using explosives and incendiary devices, all the while screaming for drugs.

Taylor has made several notes in the file and cross-referenced it with fragments of police reports in which on site security was executed with an almost military precision. Several guards suffered broken limbs from non-lethal rounds being fired in tight bursts. The largest glaring example of a cover-up, he notes, is the witness reports of the gangers fleeing the scene from the roof. It appears that with a fifty foot start, the gangers were able to make a forty foot jump with a motorcycle, sacrificing the bike to land safely onto a nearby freeway overpass.

Taking the cigarette off her ear, she turned it a few times around and taped it gently agaisnt the edge of the table.

"Since I believe that trust is a good thing... I will permit you to access all the data I currently posses on this mission." she said in her russian accent.

Without her making any moves of any sorts, all the commlinks in the room chimed in they had received new files.

John looks at the files in his imagelink. "Thank you for this trust," he replies.

Then, he gets to work, scanning the files slowly, with a detail-oriented eye.

Juan takes a moment to look over the new information as it's uploaded to his commlink. He switches off his display after he's done and turns to the group.

"It appears that our only two leads at this time are the very foolish man who lost his memo and this señor Finn. Which shall we pursue?"

"Which d'you think would be the easier target?" Penta asks.

Juan shrugs. "We know that Finn, at least, possesses some kind of security measures due to the failed operation against him, so if we want an easy target, we would probably rule him out. Then again, the fact that he's protected mostly likely means that he is the owner of valuable information."

He ponders for a moment.

"Then again, there's no reason why we could not move against both targets simultaneously. We are not a small group, nor, I daresay, an unskilled one."

Esther composes a message in response to Taylor's as she hoofs it back to the Paradise O.

//Personal Message to Taylor
//RE: Current Assignment
// You know more than I do. I'm not even sure
// how this relates to the job, but I'll let the boss see
// it. Maybe she'll know what to do with it.
// Thanks.
// Fade

She stops under the awning to keep out of the acid drizzle and grunts, a little irritated with herself and with the russian woman. Esther had wanted to get moving and hadn't considered that if the group didn't move out before she returned, she wouldn't be able to rejoin them in the back room with all her gear.

She shakes her head in irritation and leans against the wall. Rookie move, Fade. Totally bush league. Well, maybe I'll get some word back from Taylor so I know what the hell I'm looking at there.

Fuck that. She opens the door, but doesn't enter, "Mind telling the lot in there I'm back. I'll be waiting outside."

Next time, Esther, get fragging commcodes.

Esther
You see one eyebrow raise from the bartender as she sips her drink, though the bouncer places out a hand and she bites back the acidic remark. With a nod, the Fomori trudges to the back area and bangs on the door with intent.

Team
There is a banging on the door from the bar to the meeting room. Calling out in his thick Scottish accent, the Fomori says

"The not-so-wee lass who left a few minutes ago is back. She's waiting outside for you."

International District

The small house sits nestled amongst the ponds and cherry blossom trees, in the distance the soft chanting of the monk and nuns can be heard overlaying the street noice of the busy streets just beyond the temple walls. In sharp contrast to the harmony of the surroundings, a woman's voice can be heard speaking Korean, her tone is impatient and desperate.

"No! You have to be the first to stop the fighting. More deaths are not going to stop the fighting. Be the first to offer peace!"

There is a pause and then a disgusted sound. The outer shoji wall opens and Sora takes a long and even breath, attempting to regain her composure. Right action, right thought, right deed.... As the litany is repeated over and over again she feels the tension bleed from her body. She turns back to the interior of the house, she pauses at a small buddhist altar to light a stick of incense and says a brief prayer for the souls caught up in the illusion of this life.

A distant chime grabs her attention as she withdraws her comlink and accepts the incoming call. She only hesitates the seconds needed to confirm the ID of the call. 'Watanaba Security Consulting...more work is a good thing.."

"This is Sora."

Sora
"Good afternoon. I trust that I have not reached you at an inoppurtune moment."

You quickly recognize Willem's Cape Cod accented voice over the line. He has worked as your corporate liaison with Watanabe Security Consultants for the last several years. Though your duties have taken you into various offices internationally, Willem has been a constant digital companion. One notable quirk is that even though he is quite personable face to face, his telecommunications are always voice-only and direct.

"A new assignment has come up that we would like you to look into. There is currently an operative on site wrangling in a group of freelancers who have the appropriate skill base for the operation. IT has uncovered intel that suggests your knowledge base will be an asset to the operation. Standard pay rates will apply for increased threat response as necessary. Ludmila Soren is the other operative you will be working with and she has been issued the operational budget."

Your commlink registers the incoming file, a small icon in your lower vision notifying you that it is encrypted.

"The infomation you need should be available to you now, decrypt the file using key Juliet-Two-Niner. Funds will be transferred through the standard channels upon completion of the work assignment."

On schedule, the call disconnects without parting pleasantries exchanged. Tasking your commlink to decrypt the file with the J-29 decryption sequence, it reports back to you a few seconds later that the file is ready.

Ludi
A brief message flares to life across your vision, informing you that a new operative from WSC has been assigned to the operation to assist you. Recent intel suggests that Agent Sora, Watanabe's OrgCrime/Syndic Specialist may have knowledge skills appropriate to tracking down certain leads within the operation.

With the Scotsman’s voice hitting her ears she couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes moved around the room taking in those that remained and sizing them up as she went. With a slight nod, of either acceptance or completion she raised a brow.

“If she’s out there and not coming back in, it seems to make sense that we could all head out to a more… friendly location, and start hammering out specifics and details. Might not hurt to get to know one another’s specialties along the way to assure we’ve got all our bases covered for whatever the plan ends up being.”

She eyed the cigarette that was rapidly disappearing between the Russian’s lips with a bit of longing. It had been a while since she kicked that habit, but the cravings were always just below the surface.

"A good idea," Penta replies. "Any recommendations on where to go?"

Moving to a small area in the floor, Sora quickly taps several different spots of the floor in rapid succession and is rewarded by the sound of a latch somewhere beneath releasing. Pulling the panel up and placing it off to one side. Reaching inside moves several small boxes to the side and withdraws a slim case. She restores the panel to its original position before raising with the case. She moves to a small messenger bag and places it inside.

While grabbing a heavier coat for outside she accesses her comm and quickly searches for Ludi's contact info from the employee list. She takes a moment to remember who she was exactly, while she had worked with the firm before it was normally with temporary assets. An image of a woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips flashes in her memory. Right now I remember, I think she had a family in the area or something..I really need to make more connections with the other staff.. Placing the call, she makes sure to include her employee ID in it to make sure she picks up. She steps from the house and slides the shoji door shut behind her and makes her way out of the temple gardens while waiting for Ludi to pick up.

Still playing around with her unlit cigarette, Ludmilla's attention seemed to be somewhere else for a few minutes. Her gaze was slightly unfocused; her head cocked to the side.

“Leads are indeed very small. Beside some more intelligence gathering, we are left with two options” she said, finally looking over at Juan “like you pointed out.”

She finally brought the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“No one is unattainable. I believe we are more than capable of getting to both these individuals.”

The russian woman took a long drag. Holding the smoke in, she spoke again, her voice a note higher.

“Getting to Finn will require a more.... dynamic and hands on approach, which I am more than confident we are capable of doing. The exec will probably have to be approached in a more subtle manner” she gave a side glance to A'ja “which can also be done easily.”

In the corner of her synthetic eyes, an incoming call icon started flashing. Pushing her chair off, Ludi got up.

“Alright. Let's relocate to a more comfortable place”

A virtual switch flipped inside her head.

“Soren.” she simply said, answering Sora's call.

"My apologies but the company has assigned me to your ongoing operation. I am looking over the files now and I wanted to get up to speed as soon as possible. Is it safe to talk right now?" As the conversation unfolds, Sora makes her way out a side gate that empties into a small alleyway where she keeps her car. Accessing the alarm codes the door pops open and she slides in waiting for her co-worker's response.

Over the transducer link, Ludmilla's voice sounded strangely cold and mechanical... devoid of accent and emotions.

“I have just received information that you were joining our roster. Glad to have you on board. ”

She started towards the door.

“I have just finalized the acquisition of personnel. We are relocating our meeting to discuss operational details.”

Sora powers up the small electrical car and buckles herself in.

"Where should we meet?"

She quickly opens a new window in her field of vision and begins to scan over the file sent to her, trying to commit its contents to memory.

Capital Hill Team
Those with weapons in the safekeeping of the bar recover them as you exit. Outside the streets are much as you left them, with the tall, lean troll waiting for you. With duffel bags and coats covering enough armaments to assault Meydenbauer Center, the presence of security officers patrolling the neighborhood becomes immediately obvious.

Now is probably a good time to get into vehicles and continue the meeting at a more secure location, rather than loitering on the corner until a Lonestar officer takes notice.

Sora
Afternoon traffic from the International District is fairly light as you make your way towards the freeway. Across the phone connection, all the background noises you would expect to hear are mute, suggesting a direct neural interface to the phone on Soren's end.

Nearer to I-5, clusters of traffic form as individuals slow down to look at firebombed buildings and drones buzz the area flooding the AR with requests for witness testimony. Though the number of tabloid drones outnumber Lonestar two to one...

Penta slides into his car and closes the door, buckling up as he starts the ignition, and configuring his AR for driving and communications. He would let their Watanabe contact figure out where to go next, and had prior to leaving the club fiiled comm details with her so she could communicate with him on that point.

For now, though, he pulls out of the parking lot and drives a fairly random route, the better to lose any tails.

Esther nods her head gratefully at the doorman as he returns, "Thanks, chum."

She is glad to see the others piling out of the room not too long after, she passes her commcodes to the russian woman whose name she realizes she doesn't know. As the woman passes, Esther falls into step, "Sorry about that. I'm Esther Fader."

She glances up the street, noting the presence of beat cops, and drones and cars. She is suddenly very glad of her neighborhood-friendly attire. "So, I got some info on this. But I don't know what to make of it. Say - where are we headed?"

Sora slows at the traffic dictates and feels her curiousity building over the scene. Opening another window she begins to search the news feeds to see what she can find out about what happened.

With the window being opened the agent quickly appears, a slim and delicate Asian woman appears and bows once very deeply. "How may I assist you today?"

"See what information you can find out about the news feed and the inicident surrounding the fire." Another bow and the agent begins to launch programs to carry out its directives. Sora suppresses shudder when faced with an AI, she still feels uncomfortable with self aware and directed machines.

Esther offers a couple of suggestions to the russian woman, whose name she still didn't know, "I know some places we can go. Cheap. No questions if you've got the nuyen."

"Cheap and no questions asked sounds like just the ticket right now. Time to get our heads in the game and go full disclosure and get some plans made."

A'ja eyed the cigarette still dangling from the Russian woman's lips and sighed inwardly, she picked the wrong week to quit smoking.

Penta shrugs. "Then, lead the way."

Team
Spreading word of the motel you are headed to across narrow-band transmissions, you make your way southeast. Along the borders of Renton and Auburn, shadows of large industrial complexes and factories are cast over hovels of workers and per-hour hotels.

The streets are covered with a thick layer of coal dust and grime as carbon dust pours out of nearby smokestacks. With the team assembled all together you secure lodgings for a few hours with the possibility to extend.

Esther stows her gear in the trunk of Penta's car and then moves around to the passenger-side door. She gives a long suffering sigh and goes through a succession of what appears to be some swift and brutal form of yoga.

Thus limbered, she wedges herself into Penta's car. Even scooting the seat back as far as it will go, her shins are jammed up against the dash. She hunches her head and shoulders, swivelling her head back carefully so that her horns don't dig into the ceiling. The seatbelt just barely clicks home. Esther looks sidelong at Penta, not turning her head because she can't really. "Thanks for the ride. I'm Esther. Fader." She tries to extend her hand. It's stuck. She settles for a wave.

She gives the coordinates of one of the safehouses she knows to the nav system of Penta's car and they set out. The streets get narrow. Dark. Dingy. She looks out at the smoke rising from stacks all around, billowing chemical dust that would make the rain burn.

Living on the streets wasn't hard for Esther because of the predations of others. On the streets, Esther was one of the predators. No, living on the streets was hard because it rained nearly every day. You were almost always wet. And wet meant acid burns. She still remembered the first few days her apartment. The first time in months, or years maybe, that she'd slept indoors often enough for her skin to heal properly. To not have raw abcesses where water had pooled as she slept.

With no small amount of effort, Esther extracted herself from the car, checking the rooflining for horn-scrapes. That was probably already there. She moves around to the back and gets her duffel out of the trunk. It's cloudy and dreary. Looks like rain. Always fragging looks like rain. Some low - actual - clouds snag and tear as they pass the smokestacks and grow in size and darkness.

Yep. This job was getting done and Esther was going to bed in her own bed. With her not-sore skin. And her closet with its now three-piece collection of un-acid-eaten clothes. And her goddamn pillow. Yep. She felt a flicker of sympathy for the first schlubs that got in her way.

She points the boss at the front desk and suggests getting two adjoining rooms. While they are waiting for the rooms to be arranged, Esther hunkers down and opens the duffel bag. She pops the locks on the weapon case revealing shotgun, pistol and all associated ammo are wedged in comfy gray foam. She holsters the Roomsweeper and its extra clips and then clack-zip the weapons are gone. Now that she's carrying, Esther's bearing changes utterly. She stands, eyes keen, scanning around.

She drops off the grid, hiding her commcode and queues up the clip that Taylor sent. That jump is unbelievable. She puts the Agent to work figuring out the address of the clinic. And then on tracing the clinic's ownership. There was gonna be some link there between the seemingly-random-matrix-garbage trid clip and this job. Taylor wouldn't have sent it otherwise. A puzzle just like Mentation Mamba. While the Agent's swanky search music cycled up, Esther's eyes never stopped moving. A'ja. Juan. Bum. Russian. Ha. Trash. Smoke. Penta. Fire. Car. Juan again. What the fuck was he doing here? Thunder rumbled in the distance. She rewinds the jump and watches it again. No fragging way. Just, no way. The 'Weeners aren't a go-gang... Car. More trash. Bum again.

Penta smiles apologetically at Esther, reaching over to grasp her hand firmly. As he speaks, the thought hits him that given the work they're doing, perhaps using his name isn't the smartest idea. "I'm...Wolf," he replies. "Apologies for the small size of the car; not being so myself, I forget how cramped it must be for the far taller amongst us," he notes.

When they reach the hotel, he checks his pistol and reholsters it, nefore walking in following Esther.

Sora pulls her slim electric car into a small parking space. She looks around quickly before exiting the car, making sure the immediate area is clear. Stepping out and locking the car, she checks the progress of the agent in her visual link. Watching the progress tick by as it scours the matrix for information. As she walks towards who she assumes is the rest the team, she tskes a moment to wrap her scarf tightly around her mouth and hoping it's enough coal and dust out of her lungs.

"Hello, I'm the late comer. You can call me Sora." She waits a second to see how the greeting will unfold. Some people still enjoyed the pleasantries of shaking hands and making meaningful eye contact but you could never tell with irregulars.

Once A'ja had gotten the location information from Esther she had made a quick bee-line for her Comet, offering Juan a ride along the way. Small talk was made along the way as she ducked in and out of traffic headed towards Auburn.

Pulling the car into an empty spot in a rapidly filling parking lot outside a seedy motel only brought a smirk to her lips as she exited the car with Juan close behind her. She grabbed her duffel bag from the trunk of the car and hoisted it over her shoulder as she walked towards what constituted the lobby of this shithole. She quickly spotted Esther and Penta and made her way over to them making idle chit chat when Sora arrives and makes her presence known.

A'ja raises a quizzical brow and looks at the woman like she was speaking in a foreign language for an instant. She took her time looking the woman over before giving her a slight nod in acknowledgement.

Stepping through the doors of the motel right behind A'Ja's heels, Juan spies a coffee table sitting idly at the corner of the lobby and breaks off from the congregation to head to it. Humming to himself, he mixes himself a cup of SoyCafe™ as he waits for the rest of the group to unload their luggage from the cars. One of the benefits of being a magician was that you have everything you need right at your fingertips, a boon that had saved Juan's life more than once in the past when Fate forced him to engage the enemy naked.

He takes a sip of his coffee to ensure that the blend was just right, and turns around just as the newest addition to the team shows up. Raising his paper cup, he inclines his head in a gesture of respect towards her and says, "Cheers. Glad to have you on board. I am Juan."