<<10.19 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Target's house>>

I concur. Let's split.

Gecko has his agents quickly scan the Deck for hidden wireless tags and quickly scans it for Stealth tags with his NLJD.

Once she, and giles have the the ork in the back Pura pulls shut the door leaving the front of the craft for Gecko and Dancer.

<<Well you two are the last ones still in the house, so I'd suggest you guys come to the van so we can split.>>

Dancer glances around for a moment, then shrugs and heads out the door. "Get the door, will you, Gecko?"

After a nail-chewingly tense ride out of the neighborhood, you hit the city grid, and Jake advises you to slide through some Pueblo and Horizon zones, to break up the public camera footage, and play with the magic you're concealing the vehicle with in each zone, so you don't leave a solid track, as well as cutting off his wrist commlink and frying any tags on him.

<<10.35 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Seattle Grid>>

Once she'd gotten the Orc in the car she detached his commlink from his wrist and handed it over to Gecko. <<If you can hack this feel free, otherwise I'm just going to turn it off until we get back to Jake. I figure he'd have a jammer, or at least know who does.>> Pura transmits, following out Jake's instructions on how to handle the various tasks that need to be done.

<<So Dancer, whats the balance on those certified credsticks?>>

Dancer digs into his pocket and pulls out a pair of credsticks, then tosses them over to Pura. <<those two are showing zero balance. The other shows 50k, which we can divvy up once we're back at the Comedy.>>

He shows the third, but keeps his hand on it. Having said his piece, he looks away from the others and pulls out a folded photo, tracing his fingertips over it as he hunches down in his seat and ignores the rest of them.

<<10.35 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Seattle Grid>>

Gecko gives their unconscious victim a good going over with a tag eraser and the NLJD before popping the cover off the comm-link and calmly unplugging it's wireless antenna.



He physically plugs a length of fiber-optic cable into the 'link's jack socket and unleashes the Goblins with instructions to totally subvert the device.

<<10.35 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Seattle Grid>>

"50,000...outstanding." Pura says, her eyes wide as she deftlly catches the two tossed credsticks without looking. "The Karma gods know what were doing, and they must think its fabulous. Put good stuff out into the world and you get rewarded...just generally not so quickly." the girl adds, goggling at how calm Dancer was about finding 50,000 Nuyen. "Maybe if he has that much just laying around he'll have info on his deck about where he keeps more of it."

<<10.35 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Seattle Grid>>



After dropping the spells, Easy gave the orc the once over very carefully making sure no one had any magic on him before he started running astral overwatch.

Easy <<<He's clean on the magic front. I agree Jake needs to know as much as we can about what is going down here, but we don't need to leave any sort of trail back to us. If nothing else we really need to know who else knows he was going to offering Jake that child. >>>

It was unlikely the orc had been given the service of an spirit, but the smart money was on making sure it wasn't so.

There was still the danger of a ritual link being used to find him, but hopefully this would all be over by then.

<<Creephunt>>
<<Ladies and gentleman of the shadow establishment. We are gathering in the parking garage, to handle a delivery. Please gather at your convenience and interest, and bring strong stomachs and grudges. I expect arrival within the next twenty minutes.>> Jake stands up. "He'll be here soon. Come on, kid."

<<10.20 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, Backstage>>

Oh, God... the bloody finale...

DD doesn't really want to witness the fate of Vergot - she expects it to be rather bloody.

I can always check the recordings afterwards...

Jake Channel:
<<Ah, Jake, I'll have to skip the meeting - another act on stage coming up.>>


DD sets her agent to monitor the video feed of the meeting, and prepares for her next act on stage, trying to push the upcoming "reckoning" out of her mind.

<<10.20 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, the Van>>

Dancer sits up when the message from Jake goes through. So... this is it. Time to see if this bastard knows anything about Jess...

With that thought firming his resolve, Dancer resolutely pulls off his gecko-tape gloves and replaces them with his rappelling gloves, carefully looking them over to make sure there are no holes which could cause him problems.

<<10.20 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, the Van>>

Sheesh, 20 minutes, might as well do something useful...

Gecko pulls a tiny wireless adaptor the size of a jack plug from one of his myriad pockets and slips it into the Cyberdeck.

<<Private Encrypted Chat>>

@Jake

Well, while we've got some time why don't you and DD see what you can get out of this Cyberdeck?

Portia goes slightly pale as Jake informs her that the team will return shortly, Herr Vergot in tow. She stands, obediently but weakly, and fumbles all the electronic equipment off, her hands shaking. She is careful with the things, though, knowing them to be important even if she doesn't really understand why or how.

Compulsively smoothing out her sweater and skirt, she moves to follow Jake. Her wide blue eyes are fearful, and she keeps them lowered, staring at the floor. At the same time, she lets the memories of her brother flow over her, praying silently to his spirit, wherever it may be... "Brodie, I need you to help me understand this. Watch over me, please... help me be what I need to be to survive this big new world without you."

<<10.40 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, backstage>>

DD is getting ready to step on stage at the time the team is expected to arrive at the club with their prisoner. Closing her eyes, she tries to lose herself in the performance, and to avoid dwelling on the torture that's about to take place nearby.

<<10.43 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Garage>>

As the hovercraft pulls into the garage, Dancer is surprised to see Jake and Portia waiting for them with an empty chair. His eyes widen and, before the hovercraft even stops moving, he's out and striding towards Jake. "Jake, can I have a word?" he asks as he gestures to a corner away from Portia. Once they arrive, he spins on Jake. "Are you sure you want her to see this? Her innocence shouldn't be thrown away like this!"

"That's up to her. She's been wronged, and I won't deny her the chance to confront him...what she chooses to do with that opportunity is up to her. I may call her kid, but she's grown up, if sheltered. And you can't stay sheltered forever, not in this world."

Dancer sighs and shakes his head. "I don't like it... but I suppose you're right. She has been warned about how this is likely to go, right?"

While Dancer goes takes Jake aside to talk about Portia, Celeste decides it is better to cut out the middle man. Stepping out of the hovercraft, he walks up to Portia.
"Good evening Mademoiselle." Celeste says politely. "Before we bring the man out, I wanted to say hello to you. If not, well, after what is about to happen, you might never believe I am not a bad person... Well, not a bad person compared to many. But I wanted you to know you are safe with us, no matter what you see in the next few hours." He punctuates the last statement with a crooked grin.

<<Now then, before we get Mr. Lumpy out of the bus, let's talk.>>

<<Gecko. Learn to use a damn door or window, honestly. A one-story house doesn't need you pulling a Kool-Aid Man through the roof. We needed that sort of thing back in Seattle, but in some schlub's house in the burbs? KISS. 'Keep It Simple Stupid'. Seriously.>>
<<Pura. Invisible or not, walking right in the front door with a guy like that in the room, you're lucky you're not dead.>>
<<Dancer...Jesus. This guy has contacts. Even if they don't give two shits and a fuck what we do to this guy, their names might be on that cyberdeck. That means if we have him, we have it. We have it, we have their nuts in a vice. Don't go looting places for bonus prizes, it can get you dead.>>
<<Gilles, Easy...no major screwups, but in general, the mage, hacker or techno that stays in the car is the first one to catch a bullet from reinforcements.>>

He rubs his temples. <<All that being said, you made it out pretty clean. First night jitters can get anyone...but really, a little common sense goes a long way in this business.>>

He interfaces with the commlinks of the five runners, sending them each 15k . "Now that that's done, bring me mister Pussy Peddler."

"It wasn't luck, it was skill, think about where I was once he had closed the door behind me." Pura tells Jake, grinning as she pointed out she was invisible, behind the target with the gun pointed at the back of his skull. "Thank you for the Job, 30k in one night is quite the coup for my first run."

Dancer stares at Jake for a moment or two, before nodding to himself and marching back to the hovercraft to help get the target into the chair. "Oi, Gecko, help me get Sleeping Beauty over to the chair before he wakes up, will you?"

Portia keeps her hands carefully and delicately folded over her waist, a relaxed-looking posture... but her eyes are terrified. She understands that she is safe here, and that Herr Vergot is likely incapacitated, but the idea of the violence that is about to occur puts her out of her mind with nerves.

She looks at Celeste when he speaks, and offers a sort of distracted smile... but clearly, he does make her feel better. When she replies, it is in impeccable French, the sort of rich, poetic, nearly antique language of literature. "I believe all of you to be good people, Sir. That which we may do tonight is no reflection on who we are, or the stuff of which we are made."

This seems to have been as much for her as it was for him, because she pulls her shoulders back and straightens her neck and spine. Watching the others speak, and the eventual process of pulling Herr Vergot from the van, her face and body remain composed- the only betrayal of her fear and distress is in her eyes. Her hands finally part to cross herself, and she closes her eyes and whispers a brief prayer in German.

Mei comes down with Jake and steps around to give Dancer a hand hauling the limp ork to the 'seat of honor' "Get t'is Yi Dwei Da Buen Chuo Roh secure."

Dancer glances at Mei and cocks an eyebrow. "Mei, darlin', I have only the vaguest idea of what you just said. However, I must ask..." He pulls out a spool of monowire out and holds it up. "Anyone squeamish?"

Dancer asking if anyone is squeamish, in this context, is a very silly question. Portia's stomach reels wildly just considering what that wire might do, but she voices no protest. Her hand dips just into the neckline of her sweater and wraps tightly around her pendant, squeezing the emerald so tightly as to dig its faceted shape into her palm. However, she remains still and quiet, breathing fairly regularly, watching the proceedings. I will not look away, I will not look away, she chants in her mind.

Pura looks away when Dancer asks if anyone is squeamish. She certainly wasn't hardened or anything, self-defense was one thing, but torture was something else entirely. She wondered if she could slip out without it reflecting badly on her and impact her ability to get work...then again Portia was staying and she'd be damn if the sheltered woman was any tougher than she was. Perhaps torture wouldn't be neccessary, maybe she could con the information out of Vassily. That was possible and the...other could be a fall back.

"What is it we want to learn? If I can con him out of it that would be much preferable, and it might be on that old cyberdeck Dancer recovered." tthe changeling suggested, looking a little green around the gills. She had taken off her hood, but kept on her gloves in case she needed to touch the orc again.

"Please, allow me to make a suggestion." Portia's voice is steady, and a little louder than she is used to using, but what is about to happen is more than difficult to comprehend, let alone address. "I want to talk to Herr Vergot first. Alone. Jake, if you would like to stay, and perhaps you as well," here, she indicates Celeste, "to ensure my safety, that would be appreciated. But I think that Herr Vergot is not likely to be persuaded into parting with information easily, especially not with so many people and so many goals coming at him at once."

She scans her blue eyes around the group, looking rather rational and assured. "I can learn more from Herr Vergot than any of you can, because I already understand more about him, and because he does not see me as a threat. All of you? Well, you just broke into his house and kidnapped him. Waking up to find his captors ready to violently interrogate him is not going to loosen his tongue."

"Kid's got a point, and it's my dime. Me, Mei, Alice, Pura and Portia stay. Everyone else, take 5." Jake's thinking hard, looking at the great beast of an ork in the chair. "Dancer, wrap him tight enough to make him smart, not enough to slice him up if he sits still." He runs a metal hand through his hair. "Don't worry, he'll be here when you get back."

With that, he pulls up a chair, and sits the old cyberdeck across his lap. "Man I've missed the weight of one of these on my lap...I would have shot a man for this 10 years ago...Fairlight Guardian. Just as fast as the Excalibre, but with more Hardening. Great for hacking against black IC...now it's a dinosaur." He says it without even contemplating his own "outdated" nature as a 30-year-old ork runner.

"Aye aye, boss." Dancer gives a short salute before beginning to carefully wrap the wire around the Target, paying special attention to his arms and legs. He pauses for a moment, glances over at the others, then smirks and carefully rigs a trap designed to ensure that, should the Target manage to free himself, he wouldn't do so without removing a part of his anatomy that every male holds very dear to. "Jake, you might want to warn him about that last bit as he wakes up. Wouldn't want him to injure himself... I'll be waiting right outside the door, ok? If he causes any trouble, just yell, and I'll be through in a heartbeat to take him down again." He smiles grimly.

Alice looks at Dancer, "IF he gets out, he'll be in no shape to do anything. I'm not a fan of torture, but, I think this dirtbag deserves it. If he gets free, he'll have to do it without a knee cap." SHe pulls her pistol, and checks the load...

<<10.40 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Garage>>

Still inside the cab of the Everglades and still camouflaged by his jumpsuit Gecko bristled at the older Orcs criticism.

If DD had made it clear that she controlled the doors earlier none of that mucking about would have been necessary and it would have been nice if the noobs you hired were willing to wait 30 seconds to do proper surveillance. Besides, you're the Johnson today, I'll decide how the job is done.

He kept these thoughts to himself, however. He was disappointed, he'd really quite liked Jake when they ran together in Seattle but he wasn't sure he liked what he'd seen and heard tonight. He had to stop getting so attached to older male role-models, they only ever hurt you.

He busied himself sanitizing the Everglades, checking every inch for bugs, tracers or RFID tags. He sprayed it down inside and out with C-Squared and gave the Auto-Pilot half a dozen routes it could pick from randomly should a hasty exit be required.

All the while his Magic Sense was quivering with anticipation waiting for the tell tale build up of Mana that would signal the inevitable Ritual Sending.

Celeste is taken slightly off guard by Portia's perfect French. It brought up memories of his early childhood- which is never a happy experience for Celeste. Finding his mind has wandered, Celeste brings his attention back to the matter at hand. Portia suprises him again when she asks that he stays, while the others leave. Then it is Jake's turn to suprise Celeste, when he ignores Portia's desire. It is against Celeste's training and conditioning to object to such an instruction, however Celeste does believe that Portia's comfort is a priority to Jake, and she did request Celeste stay as a measure of safety. As such, he decided one reminder would be acceptable.
"I do not wish to contradict, sir, yet the Mademoiselle did requested I stay. Would you accept my silence presence?" Celeste politely says to Jake, as the others finish getting ready.

<<10.50 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, backstage>>

Out of some morbid curiosity, DD keeps checking the feeds from the TacNet and cameras, displayed in an AR window in her field of view, watching the preparations of the interrogation, and struck with the contrast between those and the innocent looking girl.

Monowire... like in "Mortal Machine"...

DD shudders at the thought of what that kind of tool will do to the ork, should he use his augmented sntrength and manage to break free. With an effort, she focuses on her act again, shrinking the AR window and getting dressed in her stage outfit - a devil costume, fitting the occasion, in her opinion.

She logs on to the club's AR controls, and selects the background for her act - hellfire. Anyone in the audience watching her with AR overlays working will see her, the pole and the stage, the rest of the club overlaid by a computer-generated display of writhing flames and burning skulls.

DD checks up again on the feeds from the group, briefly studying Portia, and wondering what the innocent-looking girl is feeling right now.

Welcome to hell, girl, hope your flames turn out as harmless as those on stage here...

<<10.40 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Garage>>

Pura nods at Jake's instructions and lounges back against the wall gracefully, looking ready to pounce at a moments notice. "So what is it we actually are trying to learn? I just want us all on the same page with this so there aren't any...miscommunications."

Portia finds herself smiling a bit as Celeste makes his request. She is oddly touched by the man's willingness to contradict Jake, but she does hope that Jake will allow him to stay. He was the only one that has thus far really bothered to speak to her, to address exactly what has happened, and what will continue to happen here tonight.

Watching carefully as Dancer binds Herr Vergot to the chair, she takes a minute to consider how she will begin her questioning. Herr Vergot had always been kind to her in the past, very kind... sometimes more than simply paternal, as well. Portia cannot stop replaying the memory of his proposal, wondering how so much could have changed so quickly, forcing herself to reconsider every single word she said as he pressed the ringbox upon her. She had been careful to speak to him in Russian, knowing that the Ork was much more comfortable in his native tongue. She had been so sure it was all an elaborate joke, something set up to give her family a good laugh on her birthday. She actually winces a little as she fully realizes that Vergot had been terribly serious. But really, a refused proposal could not be enough to justify this, to explain why he wanted to hurt her so badly?

She makes herself speak, now, addressing Jake. "Please, Jake, I really would appreciate it if you would allow him to stay." She offers Celeste a grateful glance, a simple nod of appreciation for his efforts, before looking back at the soon-to-rouse Ork. Her right hand is still tight around the emerald, and she knows that if she doesn't relax, she will cut herself on it- she has done it before, seeking the comfort and security of what the jewel means to her. The idea hardly makes her blink, though. Much worse things are going to happen tonight, and, she must admit, in the rest of what her life is going to become.

"For this first part, I want my personal crew in here, because I need them as a check to my attitude. That's Mei and Alice. Pura can stay because she can get in his head. Plus she's got more chrome than she lets on. Beyond that, Portia keeps who she wants." He pops the knuckles on his right hand. "Beyond that..."

"I want to know why me, why Portia, and how many other girls he has done this to. I want to know why my name is on this fucker's lists. Also..." he looks at his cyberarm... "I am not a fan of organleggers in general, and slave trade at -all-. So, once I have my answers, and Portia's answers, I'm opening the floor to everyone I've decided to trust tonight."

Portia nods gratefully to Jake, and then directs her next words to Celeste, again in her flawless French... though, considering what she says, the poetic beauty of her phrasing and vocabulary, not to mention the sweet, even keel of her voice, is slightly disarming. "Sir, if you would kindly provide me with some sort of weapon, preferably bladed? I would prefer to avoid being completely unarmed."

She takes a deep breath and pushes up the sleeves of her sweater, turning her back to the crowd as she unties her curls, shakes them free for a moment, and then, in a series of businesslike movements, wraps them into a high, tight bun. Portia feels herself becoming curiously practical about this- sleeves out of the way, hair off her face. However, her outward calm is not at all representative of the tumult of sensations and emotions in her mind and heart, and she shivers as the bound Ork lets out a low, waking moan.

Vergot opens his eyes, slowly, remaining perfectly still for the moment. Those eyes are curiously cold and flat, possessed of a reptilian survivalism, making calculations of size and weight and speed for every member still in the room. When he realizes Portia's presence, however, he is momentarily taken aback. His voice is low and a little rough, and he speaks in rather harsh Russian- nothing sleek and smooth about his words, nothing but surprised, vaguely betrayed anger. "There's my pretty little bluebird, set all loose from her cage. How are you, sunshine?"

Portia winces at the use of her father's pet name for her, and she turns to face the Ork, face composed even as her eyes are wild with sudden fear and anger. Her reply is in Russian as well, but more delicate, her voice soft and nearly apologetic. "This is certainly not how I expected to spend my second night in this new world, Herr Vergot. Perhaps you would prefer that I call you Vasiliy?" She hesitates, and takes a few steps toward the bound Ork before kneeling before his chair, just out of arm's length reach- though, considering the monowire, she could safely get much closer. In this vulnerable position, she folds her hands in her lap, looking up at the man she thought she knew so well. Letting silence rest between them for a moment.

The silence makes Vergot uncomfortable, but not as much as Portia's positioning. He is forced to find her eyes, and meet them, and there is a visible impact to his expression- what was cold and angry softens for a moment, the face of a man who is forced to reckon for his actions and finds himself feeling unexpected remorse. He lets the silence end with a soft chuckle before his voice issues forth again, still in Russian. "This is when you ask me why, isn't it, Porri? When you want me to explain what happened, what made me want to do this? And when you want to know how many other girls have not been as fortunate as you, to find a whole new set of soft-hearted milksops to shelter her so quickly?" Looking away, the Ork pauses, and then spits, nearly hitting Portia, his speech now harsh with disdain and rage. "The question ought to be why not, sunshine. You should want to know how it is that you have escaped this world so long, you should want to wonder why and how your filthy family bothered to protect you, my sweet little soft-bellied whore."

Jake listens, sitting in plain view nearby, fresh-purchased Horizon I Can Speak Russian! linguasoft sorting the language with great quality into English as he watches the exchange.

When he spits at her, Jake gets up, leans into the saddlebag of his bike, and pulls out the Defiance T-250 combat shotgun, grips it in his cybernetic hand, and pumps it with the other, something classical about not giving the smartlink a command. When they look at him, he snarls. "Sorry, wanted to clear my throat before I spit back." He doesn't approach though...giving her the time she asked for.

Portia barely blinks as Vergot spits at her, and Jake's response does not appear to register either. She watches the bound Ork as he settles and composes himself, and aside from a slight stiffening of her spine, she does not seem to take his insults personally. Her voice is even softer, gentler, but steady still as she resumes what will likely be a difficult conversation. "We can leave those questions for the moment, Vasiliy. Why don't you tell me how many more girls there have been? A hundred? Two hundred? More?" Still kneeling, hands folded, looking up into those hateful eyes with an impassive, calm expression. Her mind, however, reels and bucks under the weight of the Ork's rage, rage she still does not understand.

Vergot decides to switch into English, knowing that what he is saying will be translated sooner or later. "You would have been the first, had the sale gone off. Girls were never really my business, sunshine. That was something I left to your much more talented brother. Shame that your precious Brodie is no longer alive to hold the conversation, because he would be much better at explaining why so many of his dates never quite made it home for curfew. Marketing you was personal, as much as it was pleasurable." He cocks his head toward Jake, though his eyes never leave Portia's. "You could have just sent her home, if she didn't suit your tastes. Could have been convinced to take the financial burden of her support on myself, you know. Bet she makes it worth it, if you can get past the layers of bullshit and pretty German squealing."

Portia does not let this remark slide quite so easily- the idea that Brodie was in on this sort of business as well hits her almost physically, and her cheeks flush with rage. "Brod... Broderrich would have nothing to do with your sort, Vasiliy, or the business you associate with. I believe that you have not... trafficked in women before, because you are really in no position to want or need to lie. Keep up the truth, Vasiliy, and tell me why it was personal, my... my sale."

"Oh, you got me all wrong, Vasily, she suits my tastes just fine. Young, smart, got some curves on her..." He jerks a thumb at Mei. "This here's my fiancee. You can see I pick 'em good. Here's where you fell apart at this...I don't buy my pussy, I don't fuck girls against their will, and I damn sure don't support fucking slavery. I don't even like -pimps-. Bad marketing, you missed your target. Why buy a russian bride when I got asian teenager? What the fuck made you think I'd actually let this slide, much less -pay-?"

Pura hands Portia her knife when the girl asks for a weapon, but doesn't otherwise say anything. She watches intently as the Ork comes aroundand Portia begins to ask him questions, but she doesn't understand Russian at all.

<<Chat>>
<<Anyone have a Russian Linguasoft? I can't really follow what the old bastard is saying.>>

When the language changes over to english the changeling teen nods to herself and focuses on reading the gangsters emotions, and expressions for the truth of what he is saying.

Jake uses his cyberears to post the previous words on the server in English and Russian. He is waiting calmly for this scum to answer...

Vergot considers Jake for a moment, level and cold, finally tearing his eyes away from the kneeling girl. "What made me propose the sale is exactly that your name didn't come up. This pussy here is tainted blood in every circle that pays- who the fuck is going to buy Portia Opfenmeier, when mommy and daddy and big brother were always so good at getting them everything they every wanted, be it a heart or a fresh set of lungs or a complete, untracable, guaranteed to not be missed child? Would feel a bit like biting the hand that feeds you, no matter how much you'd like to sink your teeth into that. Of course, she's a perfect specimen in every other respect, but it's a bit like trying to hock the Hope Diamond." Vasiliy switches back into Russian, as he thoroughly enjoys the look of confusion and pain on Portia's face. "Oh come on, sunshine, cheer up. Your money is blood money, but it still spends. Why don't you go on home to that pretty little house and your happy piles of books and your hot whore of an opera teacher and pretend for the rest of your life that Mutti and Vati sold shoes? I can guarantee you nobody's home."

Portia is very still now, watching Vasiliy, her eyes registering surprise, fear, rage... and realization. A lot of things are starting to make more sense than she might like. She hesitates to answer, thinking for long moment, breathing steadily and slowly as her resolute posture softens. Her hands tremble a little bit and she locks them together, her eyes still on the Ork's.

"Vassily, I think you understand your predicament here. Make things easy on yourself Makkanagee morkhan."



"We can be convinced that of your value, that it would be good to keep you alive...you see, Portia and I are a lot a like, we'd rather not see undue harm come to people, no matter how bad they are. Jake and the others are a bit more...less squeamish. You don't want them to ask you questions, and me and Portia definitely don't either. Give us something that we can use to convince them that your being cooperative and they don't need to...talk to you. You put a price on Portia, and I think its only fair that you pay her that price for what you've done, and the rest of them want in on it too...give me something to placate them."

Silently, Celeste pulls a narrow bladed knife from his boot, and handed it to Portia hilt first. As Portia approuched the ork Celeste hung back a bit. Just close enough that he could move between Vasily and the girl should the man be stupid enough to lunge, He also took a step to the side so his firing angles were clear, with no chance of hitting anyone else should he need to fire. Then, he waited impassively as Portia went to work. He didn't bother with a linguasoft; Celeste just watched their body language. Knowing their words would just distract him from the interplay of sutble signals in both their bodies-besides, Celeste was sure he could get a transcript later. Celeste felt pleased to see the girl was holding her own against Vasily. Only a bit melodramatic, but not to bad, considering her youth and the circumstances, not bad at all. Hell, she even seemed to be holding together pretty well as her world came apart. Of course, it could just be she was in shock, and would go to pieces in five minutes, but Celeste didn't see the signs he often associated with that kind of shock. So Celeste remained standing by, watching and waiting.

<<11.00 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Inferno, stage>>

At 11 PM, DD steps on the stage of the Inferno. To the sound of an industrial punk song, she starts dancing, losing herself in the performance while not too far away, Portia meets Vergot. The hacker curiosity is warring with her scruples, but both take a backseat to the welcomed distraction of the stage.

One small, unscrupulous part of DD laments that this is no public run - the scene has all the potential to garner top ratings. The amount of nuyen the team is losing here in advertising fees alone...

The skinlink-controlled tail of DD's costume twitches, as if in response to those thoughts.

Picture

The entire scene plays out on CreepHunt, Jake's eyes and ears as good as any trideocam, playing it all out with English subtitles and dub tracks...

<<10.40 PM, Monday, October 20th, 2070, Divine Comedy, Garage>>

Gecko watched the scene with interest from the seclusion of the stationary hovercraft. Something nagged at the back of his mind. He went back to the recordings he had taken on the way over and fed the Radar data and the Cyberware Scanners data through their individual weapon and cyber identifying algorithms.

I hope this guy doesn't have any nasty surprises...

Dancer calmly switches his clip of stick-n-shock for a clip of subsonic rounds as he watches the feed, studying Vergot as he waits for his chance to ask a few questions.