Not quite past the point of listening to reason, Portia watches Jake's face very carefully as he speaks. She has to admit he has a point- she's not combat trained, not particularly strong or fast, and too eager to prove herself useful. Her lips press together and she thinks for a moment.

"I do not want to be left out of this, Jake. I will do as you suggest, and I will wait here, with you." She taps her feet against the stool, thinking, absently twisting the pearl bracelet on her wrist, playing each stone and twist through her fingers. "I want to do everything I can to get them in and out smoothly, though. What if... what if you ... call him back? Tell him you thought about it, and you aren't interested, but you know someone who is? Someone who wants to negotiate?"

The idea repulses her, but she pushes past it, and speaks very seriously for a moment. "Or that you are interested, but you want to keep the... the payment very clean. You could ask him to... meet you. It's not as though I know how these things work, Jake, but wouldn't it be easiest if no one had to go get him at all? I could speak to him, myself. If he thinks I do not know what is happening, he would have no reason to suspect that he needs to worry, hearing from me."

"Actually, I know just how you can help, apart from patching them up when they get back. Were you in his LA house? We could use some info, whether he's got security we haven't seen."

Portia shakes her head. "I am sorry, Jake, but I have not been to his home. He had me brought straight to the room at the hotel, and I was only there for a few hours. But I could get in, I know it."

She reaches over a slender hand and puts it on his arm, pleadingly. "Bait. Tell him you are uninterested. Too expensive, whatever you want to say. Tell him you're sending me back to him. He will let me in, and I ... I am sure you could find a way, with your cameras? I could report back. He will not let me leave, I don't think- he is not a foolish man, and the next... " Portia swallows hard, as the full ramifications of the idea she is presenting hit her. "The next bidder he suggests will likely be less pleasant than you. But he will also need time to find someone, and I can stall too- I will pretend to be ill." The idea does not thrill her, of course, but even less pleasant is the idea that these new friends could be so hurt for no real ends. "Please. Talk to the others, suggest it to them."

<<Guess that answers the question about his Bioware, that guy is ripped. The only way I am getting close to him is with a sword. We are going to be going in with all manner of non-lethal weapons, Stick and Shock, Narcoject, and gel rounds, even he wont be able to stand up to more than one or two hits from that stuff.>>

<<Does anyone have a lead on transport for the run, either a stolen vehicle, or a legit one?>>

<<Ok guys, wow...Jake, Portia, you guys really know how to pick them. Here is the straight info on Mister 'Vergot'. He's a Russian citizen that goes by the name of Vassilay the Butcher, or by the Heartless Monster. Suspected in over 300 murders, he likes to use knives apparently. He is the head of the vast majority of Organ Legging operations in Russia and in Eastern Europe. He's about as high as you can get in cyber and organ smuggling. In reference to his connections Sam puts him at the top of his own...organization, and suggests that people will almost certainly come looking.>>

<<They also put his cyber and bioware at being rebuilt almost completely from the ground up, bone and muscle augments, toner, Reflex stuff, and Pain Compensators. With all of the cyber and bio flowing through his organization you can just bet that he is going to have all the good stuff at all the best grades. This is someone you do not want mad at you no matter what, so Jake, if we take this guy, I absolutely have to know he is not ever going to be leaving your care.>>

<<No question. He doesn't leave here alive. But don't tell him that. It'll make him recklessly aggressive, I want to keep hope and fear in him.>>

<<Nice. You piss anyone important off on your vacation big guy? Last time I ask, but you sure you don't want me to just drop his house on his head? Much harder to trace that way, but then if you're being targeted I guess you're prime suspect number one regardless huh?>>

<<Organ legging... suddenly, I find myself hoping that he answers in the negative to my questions. If he doesn't, however, Jake, I will do whatever you want if you agree to help fund a run to dismantle each and every brick of his empire. If he had Jess...>>

Ronnie suddenly stands. "I need some air. I'll be right back, comrades." He turns and storms out the door, muttering "butcher... I'll show those fucks a butcher... if they hurt her..."

<<I woud hope things would fall apart a little without him Dancer...I do think though that his capture could be very lucrative if we could pry some of the secrets of his empire out of him. Maybe get some 'ware and nuyen out of his operation, and then turn everything we can over to the authorities in the various nations. It could be a real bad thing for the Organ Legging trade...And some how any trouble rolling their way just doesn't bother me at all.>>

<<First thing is first though, we have to take this guy down, way down, the sooner the better since there is always the possibility he might leave the country to visit some of his other operations in Europe and Asia.>>

<<I wonder if the Triad would pay any money for receiving him alive.... But then I bet someone has moral objections to that suggestion, right?>>

Dancer responds from outside.

<<I'm sure they'd fall apart. That's not the point. I want to break them. Destroy them. Obliterate them. Wipe them from the history books. You get the idea.

And the Triads can have his dismembered, defiled, desecrated corpse when I'm done with him. Anything more... well, we'll see.>>

<<Well, Jake hired us to fetch, whatever he does with him is Jake's business so long as it doesn't come back to bite us like him getting away would. Morals aren't what would make me say no to it, professionalism yes, morals no. Not with a guy like this anyway, though I would love the Irony of him getting organ legged...I wouldn't mind access to his ware though first since I'd almost bet the fragger is packing delta grade everything.>>

<<Anyone know a street doc who's willing to not ask questions?>>

<<I'll hook you up with my guy, he mostly does cyber, but he's a competent doctor too.>>

Easy adds, "with me a long the car wouldn't be out of place if DD or Jake could spoof the plates.

Considering the target, I suggest we make sure there is nothing to trace it to use. Better yet lay a false trail if we could make it look like it really was a triad hit... I can provide up to four illusions.

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>

With the truth behind Vergot revealed, DD feels rather anxious.

Definetly not a run that can be used to boost P2.0 ratings... triads getting framed is even worse....

<<I would propose to rent a car under a fake SIN, less risk for acquiring additional trouble than with stealing a car.>>

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>

Now that things were heating up Gecko started issuing electronic commands in earnest. Data flickered from his comm via a directional antenna up to the roof to where a laser relay linked him to his satellite uplink safely hidden on a rooftop in the flooded area of Downtown nearly two miles away. From there down to a small warehouse in Seattle where a number of servers were tended by Winston, an over the hill Decker who still liked to keep his hand in and looked after hardware for half a dozen hackers spread around the Pacific Northwest.

Lights in the server rack started to flicker faster as orders were carried out. More orders were generated, shot up to another Satellite and then down to one of the three Safehouses in LA. The Everglades he had opted for as a good choice for moving furniture in LA hissed into life and slowly lifted from the floor of the loading dock as it's skirts inflated with high-pressure air from it's mini-turbines. It's running lights remained off and after a few moments an Orc dressed as a shabby looking Security Guard entered, peering at a text message and scratching his head. He shrugged and searched the shelving for a few moments before applying the black spray paint he had found liberally to the vehicles licence plates. When he was done the roller doors at the front of the loading-dock silently raised themselves and the vehicle slipped out into the night.

The lights on the Server rack flickered so fast that they became a solid bank of glowing LED's and then all but two fell into darkness.

More bits flew through the night sky back to the Divine Comedy.

You floodlight the hell out of the local wireless traffic, it seems the only traffic about this is the encrypted feed on CreepHunt. It seems the operation is still quiet, a compliment to the working environment the Comedy provides.

Ronnie walks back into the club a few minutes later, looking considerably calmer. <<So, what've I missed?>>

Mia's icon flares red with annoyance as she fires off her reply.
I won't repeat this warning ever again, but if you try frame /my/ associates for anything at all and I hear about it I'll make sure that everyone in the syndicate knows your face. Now, perhaps we can reconsider this suggestion and play nicely?

Ronnie blinks. <<I see I've missed a fair amount. So, Mia, did you have any of the supplies I asked about with you, or will they require a trip to your lab? Also, have we decided what we're going to do with the organ legger when we grab him? I'm assuming we can't just carry him in the front door of the club...>>

<<Folks. This is neutral ground. Don't forget it. We hold ourselves, first and foremost, by our ability to be at least civil, if not damn smooth.>> Jake looks over at them, never touching a control, firing off the IM with practiced cybernetic ease while he serves a few orders.

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>

Gecko re-encrypts the link to the server once more.

<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

Jake has a location in mind I think although I can offer a number of safehouses in LA and I'm sure we could find an abandoned highrise in Downtown that would suffice.

Easy does a very Cajun shrug "Cheri, Frame is such an ugly word which I would never use. First because of your reaction. Second because no matter how solid the planted evidence, the more there is, the better the odds that it will eventually be discovered as false. And third because then the police, his organization, and the Triad will then be looking for who planted the evidence.

I said a false trail. A false trail based the lack of evidence and who had the means and motive to pull it off. Only a large powerful organization would have the means to pull this off cleanly. Occam's razor would be unlikely to suggest that a large number of skilled runners would suddenly decided with no prior communication and no apparent motive to just grab a major crime figure. All we need do is provide nothing to cause them to think it wasn’t one of their rivals and they will do the rest and give us the time we need for the trail to go cold.

Easy "The plan is to KISS it. Gecko has arranged transportation that can cover everyone going in and out. He has made sure there won't be any traces left on the vehicle. I can make sure that it will look like what ever Gecko sets its tags to. DD has matrix cover. I can do a quick peep for mystical security but I'm no astral terminator. Its unlikely but we will need to rethink if he does have serious spirital guardians. We could use someone to play outer perimeter. Cover us while we are in and to run interference if we don't get a way clean."

Edited double post to reply to Mia.

<<Ok, since Gecko has gotten us the transport, and that was the last thing we needed to handle before doing this run...Lets Get To It.>> Pura says, trying to break up the possible fight brewing between Mia and Easy, truth be told she wouldn't have minded blaming the Triad, since hurting organized crime of every stripe was a good thing, but she didn't need to tell Mia that.

<<Ok guys, get going, get your gear, and we will meet back up in a central location in 45 minutes to head out on the run. Use that time to do whatever it is you need to do to prepare, and stay in touch. Someone who isn't going in can keep an eye on the target over the camera feeds and let us know if something changes. Now is everyone clear on the plan?

Easy, Giles, Dancer, Gecko, and I will use Gecko's transportation to get to the place. Once we are there we'll head in, we have a 15 minute window to get in and out before there is a response on site from the sercurity company, although DD may be able intercept it we go in assuming she wont, 15 minutes should be double the time we need. We are going to be using Stick 'n Shock, Gel Rounds, and Tranq patches (as a last resort) to subdue this guy. After he is down we' carry him back to the van and transport him to Jake's parking Garrage as specified.>>

<<If everyone is clear on that, I'm gong to head out to get my gear. I'll meet up at XXX in 45 minutes.>> (XXX being a central location). With that last transmission Pura gets up and heads out, going for her apartment as she stays on the chat channel.

-------------------------------------------
"Wish me luck Sam, 20k for a night's work...I can definitely see why you've been doing this." she told her brother, putting together her kit for the run. First she put on her shin and forearm guards, and then she pulled up her very snug fitting body armor, slipping the gloves and hood into a pocket of the dark grey zip up vest she pulled on on top of it. With the tightness of things, she almost looked like she was ready to go back out clubbing, or to a strip joint. The predator and its holster with an extra clip of regular rounds was slipped into a small sports bag as well as her katana. Pyre was loaded up into her commlnk with his software so Pura felt free to leave the physical emotitoy behind.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, and a coat covering her upper body to make the body armor look like they were just leggings, Pura headed out to meet up with the rest of the crew just making it at the 45 minute time after jogging lightly to make the meet up.

As sweet as Portia can be, she has a very, very limited amount of patience- most baby sisters find themselves so flawed. She climbs off her stool, smoothes down her skirt, and decides to track down Pura. Maybe the Changeling will listen to reason. Her wide blue eyes try to sort through the patrons at the bar, looking for the violet hair that she does so admire.

Settling down in the booth, putting her tazer on the table infront of her - still wrapped in her jacket to keep it hidden from sight.
<< They know his last job involved Jake, they'll come here at some point regardless of any false trails you left. If only to reclaim their goods or collect payment for them.

You guys have fun, I still think that feed from his house looks like a trap though. So be careful okay?

As for the stuff you wanted Dancer, it'll take lab time. It'd be a custom job no matter who you asked to make it, so you'd probably get told the same by any good demolitions bunny.

I'll keep myself amused by trying to gain access to his car's node. If nothing else I can program it to drive around the city at random after you've done the job, maybe slow his buddies down a little or split them up. >>

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>


<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

Hey, Easy, any chance you can summon Spirits that can Conceal us? A Physical Mask is a fantastic idea but there is going to be a need to not be seen at all during this little adventure.

<<I've got my gear with me, so I won't need a spirit to conceal me. Hey, Jake, do you mind if I go and change upstairs before slipping out through a window?>>

<<Use the VIP bathroom. Window opens onto the fire escape.>>

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>


<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

LOL. I don't need concealment but every little helps.

Here's a package of Software I usually use for this sort of work, Jake can vouch for it's effectiveness.

[Attachment: 18.7MP]

<<Wow, VIP Jake? I'm really moving up in the world. Thanks! Well, comrades. I'm off. send me a message if any plans change, alright? See you at [insert central meeting location here]!>>

Ronnie jogs up the stairs to the VIP bathroom, where he changes into his gear and slips out the window, moving up to the roof, then beginning his journey across LA.

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>
Mia snags herself copies of the programs on offer, doing a quick virus check before loading any of them up.
<<Encrypted Teamchat>>
Hmmm, nice enough. I've been meaning to update a few programs to SOTA for a while.

<<9.03 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, The Divine Comedy, Inferno>>

Gecko watched the young Elf disappear across the rooftops. Or, at least, he watched his RADAR profile.

Good form...

The kid had superior technical skills to his own. Gecko's implants probably gave him the edge in most circumstances and Dancer never dropped more than two or three stories at a time when Gecko routinely went as far as five.

A capable Traceur nonetheless.

This should be fun...

<<The plan sounds good. Oh, and Easy. Occam's Razor is not that the simplest answer is most often the correct one. That usuage of Occam's Razor is a common bastardization. I do not have time to explain it properly, but in concise (and not entirely accurate terms) it states that one's ontological system should not contain any unnecessary elements. I will see you in 45 minutes.>>

Sending that final message, Celeste leaves the Divine Comedy and takes a roundabout route home. There really isn't that much preparation to do, he thinks at first, then Celeste makes a painful realization. He only has one set of armoured clothes, and he was already wearing them at the club tonight. He ponders the risk of being made, but he decides they ARE the most generic brand of armoured clothing ever made- no unusual cut, but black pants styled after genes, and a sensible black shirt. He wore his army jacket over it, open sure, but it still isn't enough for a real connection. And he would wear something overtop. He selects a dull tan overcoat. But to be on the safe side, he got out of his clothes and form fitting armour beneath, changed into civvies, vacuumed the armoured clothes, overcoat, and a spare pair of civvies thoroughly, land brought them to a laundromat a block away to run through a dryer at hottest setting he could without damaging them. Meanwhile, time was growing short. Getting back to his apartment, Celeste vacuumes the clothes once more, then puts on his form fitting body armour, puts on the gloves, hood and gas mask, and then washes everywhere that won't be damaged by the process with bleach. Its not C-squared, but it will work. Toweling off his armour, he then folds down the hood and removes the gas mask, and puts it in a small dufflebag along with the spare set of civvies. He puts the cell in his vibroblade (shouldn't need it, but the weapon has saved his life before), checked the clips in all his weapons. He straps the vriboblade, downward facing oo his upper back, the ArmTech in the concealable holster on the small of his back, the FN in the shoulder holster, and the Steyr loaded into the hidden arm slide. All loaded with gell rounds. Except the Armtech, of course. He put the spare clips in another belt compartment (two spares for the FN, one for the Steyr. He would leave his glasses on for now, but has both pairs of googles with him, ready to switch when he put on his gas mask. His five slap patches go in the belt as well. Over all that, he slipped on his overcoat. Finally, ready. Not as inconspicuous as he would have liked, but ah well. Celeste steps out the front door, and walks, as indirectly as he can given time constraints, to the meet.

Easy

<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

I can also do a Physical Invisibility too.

And thank you most kindly.

I hate being behind SOTA, but it is not my area of expertise.

[Attachement: 18.7MP]

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>


<<Thanks for the programs. Sam wouldn't let me use his until he taught me how to use them the right way...perfectionist that he is he probably meant til I was as good as he is at hacking.>> Pura transmits once they were back together again at the meet up.

Once the changeling girl was in the vehicle she did her final preperations, pulling on first the gloves to protect her hands and prevent fingerprints, and then her hood to totally hide her hair and obscure her face. Next she put on her holster and zipped up the armored vest, and lastly she put the katana in place for an over the shoulder downward draw.

<<We ready to go boys?>>

<<I am ready>> Celeste sent, as he set up the new programs. <<And thank you for the programs>>

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>

<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

No, problem. It's best to make sure everyone's comms are tight and we're working on a level playing field. I'd hate to get killed over one leaky 'link.


As you read the incoming text from the elusive Gecko the silhouette of some sort of vehicle glides out of the night and settles down on it's haunches next to you. The battered old Hovercraft is tastefully painted in several mis-matched shades of 'mud' and is operating without running lights. The lightly armoured side door slides down and out on hydraulic pistons to form a loading ramp wide enough for a couple of bikes to roll up.

All aboard ye scabs, Arrr.


-------

Gecko checked his gear for the dozenth time. He was crouching in the shattered remains of a window in the abandoned office block they had agreed to meet at. The numbers painted on the inside of the elevator shaft claimed that this was the ninth floor but there was no more than twelve meters between him and the hovercraft idling on the 'beach' of flotsam and jetsam the tide had pressed up against the side of this once proud Bank since it's market had 'collapsed' in such an unexpected way.

He'd suggested this location because it was near another of his safehouses and was occupied by a couple of dozen Ghouls. Dual-natured creatures, they knew better than to hang about when the likes of Gecko were in the building. They'd be a nasty surprise for anyone trying to track the team though.

He sighted down the Ingram at the team as they boarded the vessel. It was a weird sensation aiming a weapon that you could see through with hands and arms that were similarly transparent. Only the AR Reticle that his Simrig projected into his mind gave him any real idea where the weapon was truly pointing. Unless he brought up the IR or the RADAR overlays....

Activating it's Gecko Grip system he stuck the weapon to the small of his back and ran through the contents of his other pockets to make sure he had everything and it was all safely sealed in the jumpsuits waterproof pouches.

When the last of the team were safely aboard the Everglades he slowly tipped forward out of the window. His body stretched out into a Crucifix for the dizzying heartbeat it took for him to fall three floors before he 'piked' and rotated forward until he was falling feet first, arms still outstretched, an instant before his feet touched the top of the Everglades. He tucked and rolled to absorb the impact and came up into a crouch with his hands flat on the roof of the vehicle.

He never made a sound.

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, Backstage>>

DD was sitting in a corner on a cushion, backstage of the Inferno, after her second act on stage, resting her body while she was inside the home node of Vergot, checking matrix traffic and camera feeds for naomalities, and getting ready to loop certain feeds so the team could enter without troubles. The young hacker felt rather anxious at the possible repercussions this job could bring - organised crime was something else compared to corps. The syndicates took things personally.

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>




<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

The primary and secondary will get Improved Invisibility. The secondary will get a Silence too so both of you had better be wired in and synced up cause you won't see or hear each other.

I can drop any of the spells at any time or place, but if the secondary can get close to the target then no one will hear anything unless it is by wireless and DD will take care of that.

If no objections...


Easy casted the first three spells.

Easy waited till Gecko signaled him that the hovercraft was in a blind spot and then started whispering to prayers to the Saints on his crucifix as he cast the last spell.

The hovercraft became a delivery van matching the tags that Gecko was running.

He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and then leaned back and pulled his hat down over his eyes. This is going to be a little tiring.

<<Those watching the CreepWatch feeds see Vasily finish his workout, and go into the kitchen, fixing himself a meal in a blender, mostly nutrition supplements, from a spectrum of balances, from geriatric medicine to weightlifting supplements, he throws in some fruit and ice-cream, and a shot of Bailey's, and pours the entire liter of it down his gullet. He washes it down, and heads for the shower. He doesn't even look tired.>>

<<9.50 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, Backstage>>

DD keeps an eye on Vergot as he takes a shower.

He doesn't look old when in the buff...

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>

Pura watches interestedly as the spells are cast, wondering exactly what it was that easy was doing when he cast a spell. Growing up on fantasy trids about wizards, magic, swords, elves, and magical identity bracelets of the apocalypse had left her curious about all things magical, but now was not the time to ask questions.

<<So the 4 of us are going in with Easy staying in the van maintaining the spells, right? Ok then, lets do this thing.>> she transmitted, taking a seat indian style to wait for their arrival.

<<9.52 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Divine Comedy, The Parking Garage>>

<<Music Cue: Billy Idol – Cradle of Love>>

Glittering, hand polished chrome wheels wrapped in shining black tires squeal at every turn as the big luxury SUV races through the Divine Comedy’s parking garage, like the speedball of novacoke and eX screaming through Vice’s brain. The stimulant cocktail’s effect is heightened by an Oracle amplifier’s overstimulating effects, making the euphoria of just driving into an awe inspiring experience.

Having located a parking space, the hard partying thirty year old samurai climbs out of the truck and checks his clothes in the feed from its’ external cameras. Tonight, he is out in professionally pressed khakis, designer boat shoes (no socks, because socks are for tourists), a fashionably rumpled raw linen shirt, and a sport coat with the sleeves pushed up to show off his muscular forearms. A gold crucifix hangs from a gold chain around his neck, the black barcode tattoo on the nape of his neck stands out against his light brown skin, and his freshly shaved head glows in the garage lights.

The pristine black 2071 Range Rover borrowed from his hotel and the retro 2050s mirror shades hiding his dark brown eyes top off the look of a company man on vacation to blow off a lot of steam.

At the door, the tip to the hotel staff pays off as the giant troll waves him past the line on the sidewalk and right up to the detectors.

Before stepping through, he pulls an FN 5-7C from the paddle holster in the small of his back. Trigger finger on the side of the receiver, muzzle pointed at the ground, he ejects the magazine into his left hand before drawing back the slide to extract the chambered round. The mechanism flings the blue tipped Stick’n’Shock™ cartridge into the night air, only to be snatched with two fingers and reinserted into the clip.

Vice looks through the breech into the magazine well, then through the barrel at the pavement before turning the weapon over in his hand to offer it, butt first, to the troll.

Afterwards, the whole ritual is repeated with a Colt Government produced from a shoulder holster. Lastly, he produces two more machine pistol magazines and hands those over as well.

Disarmed, he steps through the cyberware scanner, watching the troll’s reaction as the magnetic anomaly detector shrieks like a child molester on his first night in prison. The machine informs the bouncer of the replacement eyes, ears, some headware, an implanted commlink, and move by wire system.

The weapon scanner seems anticlimactic in revealing that he did in fact surrender the only weapons he was carrying.

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>

Dancer sits in the hovercraft silently, slowly looking over his gear for any flaws that could cause problems with this task. After a few minutes of silence, a message goes out from him.

<<So how are we going to do this? I say we split up to cover the various entrances... How many entrances do we have to cover? Are there any guard animals out on the grounds?>>

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>

<<Encrypted Teamchat>>

Trouble is we don't know anything for sure until we get there. I recommend that you and I, Dancer, do a thorough perimeter recon before we make any concrete plans.

<<9.45 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Downtown Los Angeles, Meeting Point>>

<<Encrypted Teamchat>>
<<Thats fine, but we already have the floor plans, we know he is alone, and we have a very limited window of time to get in and get out, I'd rather just be in and out as quick as we can be. We should go in as fast as possible grab him and get back out.>>