As Bubbles worked rapidly in AR to support the team's rigger, Al had been watching Pesto like a hawk, hand gripping the cords of the 'trode set on Tara's head, eyes peeled for the first sign that the ork was getting hurt.

But it was over almost before it started - first the ork had said he was under attack by spiders, then moments later he was slumping off of his seat.

Cursing under his breath, the human snatched up his medkit for the third time that morning. At least this time he'd be working on someone on his own side.

In the van

Bringing Pesto out of VR, there are signs of minor cerebral swelling. A few painkillers and an anti-inflammatory later, the ork has a light ringing in his ears but is otherwise fine.

<<Ready to go again big boy? Maybe better with spotter when doing heavy lifting.>>

Pesto's eyes open and his hand holds the side of his head. The orc lets out a groan and says, "Damn, it is nasty in there. I have to reboot, frag!"

Pesto then has his comm reboot.

Al gave the ork his most encouraging grin. "Well, like Pa always told me, no matter how many times ya git knocked down, all ya gotta do is kick the other feller inna nuts once. So you go give 'em hell...an' I'll leave this open, jist in case," he shrugged, patting his medkit.

*** POP ***

Bubbles shakes her head mildly to herself.

Contorted in the van, the troll pushes herself up and out of the way as Al performed his medkit magic. Briefly she wondered how many times he could restart the tusker. After he was done, and the skinny tusker was aware, she re organized herself to be slightly more comfortable.

Pesto gives Al a tusky grin and then turns his attention back to the commlink when it notifies him that it is back up a ready to go. He then quickly sends a message to Bubbles:

"Ok I am ready to go back in. I don't think we have the luxury of another slow probing attack I think we have to go in hard and fast. Would you like to lead the way with my assistance or would you like me to go ahead with your assistance?"

<<You crack the account set me up one, then I'll lead in and draw attention, you kill the IC or grab the data while the chew up my persona. Can do a few cycles maybe? You got an Agent?>>

Pesto skakes his head as he replies to Bubbles:

"I have no agents to use. It will just be us two. I am going to hack in now as an admin. Just give me some assistance with the hack and once I am in I will create a security account for you."

Hackers

The slow grace of probing the target is gone this time as the two of you work together and pinpoint weak spots in the web to tear through. Tearing through fibers of security like a machete in the jungle, you realize the system should still be on alert from the previous attack. An eerie silence crawls over your senses as you plow back in without any resistance.

The node around you wavers.

Al
Watching the biomonitors on Tara and the hackers, you see Tara flatline for half a second. Her vitals are becoming tachy--something is eating her from the inside out. She can't stand much more of whatever is happening to her.

Hackers
As the webs snap back into focus, the spiders are surrounding the limp figure of a woman in the center of the web. They appear to be tightening webs around her, similar to the attack they used on Pesto.

Mentally, Al threw up his hands in exasperation, but physically he used them to thumb his commlink to SPEAKER and went to work on the girl. The trode rig ruled out shocking her, so he opted for a shot of adrenaline, just as an aperitif.

He talked while he worked: <<Dunno what y'all are at in there, but this girl's vitals just got slipperier'n a barrel full o' KY-covered eels.>>

Sun smiles.

"Make the call sweetheart. I'll do a check the place out without you to distract me."

She winks suggestively and continues, "I can barely here anything over the sound those boots make."

With that she moves off checking the palce for ways in and out. Marking each on a makeshift map inside her comm. She methodically checks each room for anything unusual, then moves on. What little Ryan sees of her circuit shows a more clinical,meticulous side to this protean young lady.

Now that he is inside Pesto quickly unloads and loads a new program mix. Then the hacker goes about creating an account with admin rights for Bubbles to log in under.

Sun

Beyond the main worship area, you identify a storage cabinet and a semi-functional kitchen. The other rooms you think may have once been offices, a nursery, choir room and classrooms. The most unusual thing is the lack of squatters, but you quickly identify why they aren't here anymore. There are four exits from the building, a number of boarded up windows where the glass has been smashed. Overall, the building has a feeling of desolation. The faithful have been killed and the squatters came in. Now the squatters are out to make room for you.

Sun wanders back to Flint.

"Hey honey, checked the place out, no real surprises. It's going to do to lie low but if we're attacked its got way to many doors to watch. But at least it gives us exit options."

She sends him her rough maps.

While Sun makes her circuit of the old church, Ryan busies himself calling Al to fill the rest of the group in on their progress, and of course let them know the safe house's location.

He merely shrugs his shoulders at the other elf's assessment of the squat. Not that he didn't agree, but he knows that there isn't a whole lot of other choices, so he has already resigned himself to make do. Ryan is much more concerned with their proximity to the Princes territory than anything else at the moment.

Already on SPEAKER, Al's comm reproduced the elven gunslinger's voice loud and clear, though it was anyone's guess which reality the two hackers' pointed ears were in.

Hands busy with chest compressions, he leaned forward further to look out the windshield to get an idea where they were, comparing it in his mind with the location Ryan had offered. <<Reckon we ain't too far out, but can't chat right now. Nothin' ta git yerself exercised about, though. But ya might be so kind as to get a place ready fer our two lovely guests - they ain't neither one in too good o' shape.>>

Pesto smiles to himself as he completes the next part of the plan. He then sends the login information to Bubbles along with the following message:

"Ok here is the info you need. Come on in and lets see if two hackers are indeed better than one."

*** pop ***

With a large wrinkled brow, as much from the trollish epidermal armor as her conctration, Bubbles concentrated on her AR view and started sending her persona to work.

Hackers

As both of you log in to the server, Bubbles begins to make a large ruckus. Attracting the attention of the spiders, they launch into action. Quickly webs begin to bind and tighten around the troll's persona. Pesto launches a quick series of attacks against the spiders. In the middle of the attack, the spiders dematerialize. Not destroyed, just gone.

In the Van
The vitals that Al is monitoring suddenly level out. With the hacker onslaught of her mind, whatever was attacking her nervous system seems to stop.

The unshaven little human, smaller even than the girls, not to mention his tusked and horned companions, breathed a sigh of relief. "Whatever yer doin', it's workin'," he said loud enough for his commlink's mic to pick up his words.

Pesto look saround after the spiders fade out and then says to Bubbles, "That was too easy. Keep a look out. I will see what is up with our 'host'."

Assuming Tara is still lying where she was the last time Pesto visited he will scan her. If not then he will scan the node in general.

The Van

The road beneath you starts getting bumpy as maintenance problems begin to show. Approaching Tarislar, it is obvious from the potholes and trash in the street that City Services aren't coming out here with any frequency. Soon the Grid Guide fails and the van is driving under its pilot systems alone.

Pesto
Scanning Tara, the system comes back with garbled noise. You can tell that the signal is jammed open from black IC. Otherwise your best guess would be that there is a failed subroutine in the shutdown process--the node is attempting a reset but viral coding has corrupted it.

"Spiders not like eating troll."

A quick glance out the door and review of the ARO map overlay re oriented her. "Pretty doll boy land!"

Tapping the subject of their investigation with a toe, Bubbles asks, "Flatline? Reboot? That mean system tied to life? Reboots must be rough."

Al was not exactly sure what had happened in the woman's head, and even less sure what Bubbles had just said. But then, that didn't stop him from having an opinion - and knowing it was right.

"Well, if'n y'all was tanglin' with spiders in there, I reckon that was more'n a jist a reg'lar reboot. In any case, she's breathin' okay fer now."

A glance out the window into the surrounding elven slum told him they were getting close - he started looking for a steeple or something.

"So, aside from keepin' her alive, did we figger anythin' out?"

Pesto scratches the top of his meatball icon as he takes a look at the information brought up from the analyze program. He turns to Bubbles and bobs in agreement with her assesment. Then he answers Al:

"Well I'm not sure we learned much of anything other then her friends tried to geek her. I am not sure why the agents disappeared, but if they think she is better off dead then she must have something more to tell us. They may have fragged her up to much though but I am going to try something."

The orc hacker then pulls a bandaid out of thin air and applies it to Tara's icon.

The troll shifted slightly to look at the human searching out the window.

"This stuff make VR look good. VR, black spider IC come, headache, stim go again. This stuff..." Bubbles taps the woman, "Black Spider IC come, mind and body all go ." *** pop ***

Listening to the multihued troll, Al scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Well, said onna trid these here virtuokinesia types got their own breed of agent. Maybe..." and then he had a thought. He spoke loud enough that his comm would again pick up his voice for the ork's benefit: "Shore 'nuff what Pesto 's sayin' 'bout her friends geekin' 'er could be true...but what if she wuz tryin' ta geek herself? She's gotta know her odds're slim to a snowball in hell in a pickle like this, an' if she's still alive it's so's folk kin do some ugly shit to her. Whaddaya y'all think? Could those things have been self-generated?"

Pesto
The band-aid wraps around her form without impacting anything. Seconds later, the node around you shimmers. Whereas before the webs had been sharp and clear, there is a now soft haze around everything. Quickly, the imaging filters on your commlink begin to process the changes as a shift in system architecture rather than any sculpting changes.

In the Van
Without any steeples on the horizon, the group approaches the address sent to the van's internal guidance systems. Thelow, wide building has a heavily damaged fence surrounding the parking lot and shows signs of gangs tagging the walls. Turning into the parking lot, you are able to see an entrance way with the door propped open. Around the doorframe and on the door, drying blood shows signs of recent violence.

The scanner which had been monitoring signals within the van beeps that a monitored signal is lost.

Al breathed a sigh of relief, assuming that the silenced signal had been from Tara - but he gave a questioning look to the scan-Troll for confirmation.

Looked like they had finally succeeded in maybe keeping themselves from having their location traced - small comfort since they were now at said location.

Fearing more nasty surprises, he checked the woman's vitals - neuro and cardio - to make sure the signal wasn't all they'd eliminated.

As he did so, Gina glided to a stop at the church's bloodstained door.

Well, he mused, we may've been tracked, but no better place to lay low than in a house of the Lord.

With the beep, Bubbles turned her head from looking out the window for pretty little boys and started checking the environment to account for the lost signal.

Having just finished retrieving his bike and stowing it in the parking lot, Ryan walks out to meet the van as it pulls up outside. Ignoring Bubbles at the window, the elf looks right past the troll toward Al, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Problems?"

Pesto scruntches up his meatball face in consternation as Tara's node goes through some sort of change. His mental musings are interupted by a signal from Gina indicating that they have finally arrived at the safehouse. Figuring that his attention will be needed in the real world soon, the orc gets ready to swtch out of VR. Before he does though he runs his analyze program one more time.

When the program completes he switches modes to AR while keeping the link open to Tara's node.

Looking around the van at the others, pesto starts to work some kinks out of his muscles. As he does so he says, "I am not sure what the frag is going on inside of Tara's node. Things are real odd in there. Hey, by the way a thought just hit me about these two. You don't think that maybe they are more then working associates or friends?" As he says this last staement it almost looks like he is blushing.

Al answered the elf first: "Well, we done tried ta figger what was makin' that pretty head o' hers tick. I'll be battered and fried if'n she ain't one o' them damned technowhatsits. Anyway, barely stopped her takin' a one-way trip ta the sweet hereafter - maybe with a ticket she bought fer herself - but nipped that bad idea inna bud, and finally squelched her outgoin' signal ta boot."

And then he replied to the more interesting question: "Well, I'll tell ya, friend, I'd hate ta think that some prime pieces o' farmland such as those wuz lettin' theyselves go ta seed without being properly furrowed, but then that would be one explanification fer why she took all of us on all by her lonesome. An' if'n yore theory's got an ounce o' sad truth to it, I reckon our own vixen orta be good 'n' able ta capitalize on that once she has another sit down with 'em."

Sun steps out into the open. "Do my ears decieve me or did someone mention leverage? Nice of you guys to catch up, finally. Bring her inside and I'll chat when she comes round."

Bubbles furrowed her brow in thought as she eased out of the vehicle, after a quick stretch in height allowed her to glance over the roof and view the area, she reached down into the back and lifted out a body at random to carry.

Watching Bubbles work, Al silently mused to himself. Final days o' reckonin' can't be too far off when we kin load a coupla half-dead naked women into a blood-drenched church in broad daylight. Man's gotta work, but he'd better have a tight grip on his ever-lovin' soul if'n he's gonna git mixed up in this shadowrunnin' biz.

Thanking the voodoo gods that this was a temporary gig, the little man grabbed his weapons, the rifle still wrapped in plastic tarp, and lugged them awkwardly into the church. Once they were stowed under a broken pew, he went back out and gathered up everything he could find in the van of the girls' gear, and took it inside as well.

That done, and with the girls inside, he checked to make sure someone had also hauled in the desktop forge.

As the troll hauls the bodies inside, Ryan paces restlessly back and forth in front of the church, looking first one way and then the other for the slightest sign of approaching trouble.

Once he was satisfied that things were properly offloaded, Al joined Ryan out front, lit a cigarette and offered the elf one.

"Reckon ya found us a right fine place to hole up. But then, you don't exackly strike me as the goin' ta ground type."

Out Front
There is no activity in the immediate vicinity of the church. Ryan sees a few squatters walking down the street but with the van and motorcycle pulled into the parking lot, they cross the street. A few moments later they are seen further down the block. The natives look to be giving this place a wide berth.

Gesturing with his Lucky Strike, Al continued his conversational foray - "Well, whoever ya got this place from, looks like they shore put the fear o' God inta the locals."

As the van is being unloaded Pesto takes a moment to plug Clara into her charging port to recharge. Taking a look out the window he sizes up the area they are in as he decides what type of security measure to use.

Deciding on the low key approach the orc opens one of the cases he has in the back and takes out a quad-legged microdrone (Maria). As he exits the van he locks the doors and sets the van's sensors to maximum gain. He also sets the IC running on the van to run its analyze program every 10 seconds.

Taking Maria to the side of the church he places the drone on the wall and has it crawl up to the highest point of the top of the steeple. Once it is there he sets the IC program running on the drone to also run its analyze program every ten seconds.

Pesto then joins the others in the church. When he steps in he says, "Ok I have some sensor feeds coming your way." He then sends feeds from both the van's camara and motion sensor plus the drones camara to the commlinks of his teammates.

"So what is the plan?" he says as he looks around the inside of their hideout.

Ryan nods his thanks as he takes the cigarette from Al. After touching the flame from his Zippo to the tip, he draws deeply before responding to the human.

"There's a time fer everythin' if ya live long enough."

He eyes the group of squatters suspiciously until they pass out of sight.

"Better for them. Better for us."

Taking one last long look up and down the street, the elf turns and eyes the gaping entryway to the church, then levels a cold, inquiring look at Al.

"You ready t' head on in an' find out 'xactly what's goin' on?"

The short man looked up and returned the elven gunslinger's gaze full measure, wondering if they were both thinking the same thing.
"I am ready an' then some for the findin' out, an' no qualms whatsuchever fer how it's done. It's what comes after the findin' out I'm frettin' whether we see eye ta eye on."

Her unloading duties finished, the troll did a quick circuit of the interior, then immediately climbed up into the steeple by the most direct route.

Bubbles peered out over the neighborhood with some interest.

Ryan holds the human's gaze for a moment before nodding.

"That's good enough fer now. We'll deal with anything else later."

"Fair 'nuff," answered Al, confident he could bring the elf around to his way of thinking, and wondering to himself just how far he was prepared to go if he couldn't.

He went back into the chapel just in time to hear Pesto ask what the plan was. "Well," the little man said, glancing at his commlink's screen appreciatively, "Looks like ya done a crackerjack job gittin' some eyes onna streets for us. Beyond that, seems a might premature to speccalate onna plan afore we chat some more with these ladies we have been at so much pains to git here still abreathin'. But that ain't hardly my department."

And with that he sat down next to the pile of the second woman's belongings. Eyelids getting heavier by the minute, he helped himself to a danish, munching while he worked. First was the ring, which he carefully examined for inscriptions. Then it was the bloody long coat - nice piece of work, but it already had a hole in it, so within a few moments his big survival knife had dissected it completely - though only after he'd given it a good once over to make sure it didn't include one of those new-fangled woven-in commlinks. Finally, he went for the big heels on the girl's overpriced shoes.

Once his search felt complete, he gestured at the now far less neat pile - "Someone wanna run a scanner over alla that fer tags an' whatnot?"

Al
Looking through the scraps of what was probably several nuyen worth of clothing before it met your knife, there don't seem to be any surprises. The RFID tags have been removed and no new ones applied or sewn into the material. Your best guess is that a pawn shop would pay you about 500 for the ring which means it's probably worth five or six times as much.

The danish is good. At this point it has cooled, but you think they may have been fresh out of the oven when Hayden first bought them.

Team
You set to work with the two hostages. Tara is dragged into one of the side rooms that was once a nursery. A huge gob of bubble gum holds the jammer against the wall pointed at the stripped girl's body. Hayden is pulled into an office on the other side of the church. Unless they shout you are certain they won't be able to hear each other. Sun and Bubbles work at binding the women, Tara with the handcuffs and Hayden with strips of cable and tubing from the bar.

Unlike those of you on Longhaul rushes, Al leans into a corner with his rifle across his lap. The sleep doesn't last though. Half an hour after everyone was settled, Tara begins screaming incoherently and weeping.

Al had been dreaming of Candace, the little thief he'd shacked up with in London before losing himself in the deserts. She had round, rosy cheeks and dirty blond hair in a page-boy cut, and wouldn't drink anything but Pakistani beer (well, at least when she had the choice). As usual, she was reacting enthusiastically to his down home loving, but when her moans of pleasure turned to loud weeping, he knew it was time to wake up.

He tried standing straight up from his sitting position, but that got him nowhere - so much that had been was no more. But he'd get it back. Shifting to all fours, he hauled his creaking joints upright, bent and picked up his shotgun, and took stock of things. Figuring everyone else would head for the screaming girl, he sauntered over to the office where they had Hayden - if all that screaming woke the little succubus up, someone oughtta be there.