"Touché." He flashes an equally devestating smile right back at her before plucking the toothpick back into his mouth.

"I always hate this part of a new team. I never know what to say. So I'll just get the basics out and we can go from there.

"The name's Ol' Scratch but most of my friends just call me Scratch, so feel free to do the same. Not that it's much of a nickname or anything, but still. Ah, let's see..." he reaches up and rubs the bristles under his chin as he tries to figure out what else to say. "I've been doing this kind of drek since the 40's. Might be getting a little slow as the Grim Reaper edges closer, but I promise you all I'll do my best to help make sure we all get out with our hides intact when the shit hits the fan. Uhm... hell, I can't think of anything else to say..."

While he was talking his eyes never left Silk's. It was almost as if he were gazing into her soul as he talked, ripping unspoken secrets from her very core. There was something about his facial expression that completely belied the tone of his words, but it's hard to say what it was.

Nevertheless, by the time he finished introducing himself he jerked his head to the side and looked Onna up and down again. He tilted his head a bit, apparently fighting to keep himself restrained from asking what he really wanted to know. Finally, he was able to ask, "So how about you, love. What's your story? I'm simply dying to know."

Onna struggles to keep track of the English bouncing around the table as she waits for the waitress. She points at the young elven woman Silk and simply says "I will have what she had please."

She jumps a little at Scratch's redirect. She takes a moment to compose her self. "I was not born here. I came here when I was young." Her English is forced and halting, as she picks each word. "This work is thing I must do. I am good at it." She blinks a few times, switching to Japanese. "This is my native tongue and one I know well. How many here can understand me? I prefer this to English but I can get by. Why is there something more you wanted to know?"

:: Her smile switched from predatory towards Scratch, to warm and inviting to Onna as she responds. Her Japanese is peppered with a french accent for some reason, but is rather fluent. ::

"My aplogies for making this more difficult for you. I am comfortable in either language. I am sure than there are those of us here that can translate for you if it is a necessity."

:: Turning to the rest of the group, she addresses them as a whole. ::

"It seems our Japanese sister here is more comfortable in Japanese, are there any here who are not schooled in that language?"

Not willing to let his eyes leave Onna just yet, Scratch just raises a hand slightly off the table. "Don't understand a word."

"I speak good enough to understand and talk, if need."

Father picks up when Silk finishes her question, "My Japanese is not the best, despite my heritage, but I'll get by. If anything confuses me, I'm too old to hope that it becomes clear with time -- I'll just ask for clarification! My name is Hitotchi Nakamura. I usually, however, prefer simply to be called Father. It's something of a nickname, I guess you could say. As I illuded to before, I've been decking since the term decking existed. Though, I will admit that this task gives me pause; I am not usually required to go on site, though I am willing to do so despite the risks. It seems our emplyer's net swings wide; I must admit that I don't believe I've ever met one of your kind before, sir" he finishes, turning to Shadow, hoping the Night One understands his Japanese.

:: Minorly annoyed as his blatent gawking, she lets out a soft amused laugh. ::

"I have a feeling you're enjoying it none-the-less."

:: Switching to Japanese, she smiles knowingly at Onna. ::

"Watch out for the Satyr...I have a feeling he's interested in your tail."

:: She adds a playful wink at the girl. ::

"Not to put a damper on the party but operationally I belive it would be best for us all to speak a language that everyone here can understand. Even if you aren't the best at English it is better than speaking a language only half of us can understand. So please, stick to english."

Onna nods. "I meant no insult and I apologize. Was there something more you wanted to know Scratch?"

Warpath grunts at Silk's statement. "It reminds me of my past too, I'm afraid. But my memories of it seem to be less pleasant than yours." He looks wistful for a few seconds but appears to cheer up. "No, the snow is definitely worse than the rain. Almost died during the last blizzard."

As the conversation shifts languages, he grins. The Japanese chip was still slotted from before, and it translated nearly perfectly, though he didn't add anything. Using the lingasofts always left him feeling disoriented afterwards, moreso if he used them to speak as well as listen for any length of time.

Onna suddenly turns a bright pink. "I must apologize again. My name is Onna. " She seems mortified at the lapse in manners.

Father bows to the Night Elf and says, "I was only commenting that I don't believe that I have ever met a Night Elf before. The honor is mine, sir."

Turning to Onna, "Would you prefer a translation, sister?" he says, using the diminutive that Silk earlier used.

"You show me too much respect Honored Elder. But I would be eternally grateful if I could trouble you with any confusion that may arise from my ignorance." Her face is grateful and still flush from embarassment.

"None taken," Shadow replies with a nod of his head. "My handle is Shadow, I think that will do for now. It is a pleasure to meet you all as well, it is nice to be working with obvious profesionals. As for being a Night One," he shrugs his shoulders, "it is no different for me, then it is for you to be human.

Hearing all the slant-eye babbling going on, Scratch takes a quick mental note to ask Carducci if she can get her hands on a linguasoft pronto.

:: As the waitress leaves them to their discussion, Silk resumes a modicum of professionalism, though she thoroughly enjoyed the casual banter. ::

"Im know as Silk. I'm adept at social situations and can speak English, Sperethial, and Japanese fluently. I also have a very good command of Latin, but I doubt that will be useful in our current assignment."

"I'm also a competent mage. I pride myself on my abilities as I've met few mages with a more intimate understanding of mana and the astral space that shares this world with us. I am as talented at spell slinging as I am at summoning though my combat prowess is limited to that with a magical bend. I've never even fired a pistol."

Koogi, I think...

"My name is Ayohuhisdi, or Ayo, for those that don't speak Cheyenne. I'm an expert marksmen with pistols and rifles, and Leopard has granted me the gifts to pierce the veils of mana, and sense the twistings of mana that shamans and mages use to perform their acts. I can walk unseen, when necessary.

I will state now that I have little concern for the 'innocents' that assist the corporations in perverting Nature like this, and I always shoot to kill."

The large samurai grunted. "They call me Warpath though God only knows why. One of those stupid things that someone says and it sticks." He grumbled on, "Anyway, I'm a pistol and assault rifle fighter with a little bit of everything else thrown in. I can handle heavy weapons and most tech, if there's a need, and demolitions as well."

"I prefer to get jobs done quietly, but that never seems to work out," he added with a grin.

The tall elf hasn't moved since he first stepped into the room, and has said nothing since asking the single question of the Johnson. Uninterested in actually eating dinner, he waits for conversation to turn to the inevitable.

"I am Grendel. I provide transportation, communication, surveillance, and support firepower. When we are in a secure location, I will promulgate comm frequencies, encryption, and tac signs as necessary."

The rigger pauses, briefly considering whether or not to continue. In the end, discretion wins out. His files on Shadow and WarPath were already complete, he would simply add the details of the new team members in as they became available.

Immortal had stayed silent throughout the breifing, and the negotiations. It wasn't that he wasn't inclined towards a little haggling, it was that he was weighing implications. He'd been on bug hunts before, and he'd walked out scarred. Seemed the bastard things hated him for some reason. He had half a mind to pocket the hundred kay and walk, but he had a reputation of never backing down from a job. Wouldn't want to sully that rep.

Since he's eating for free, he orders a thick blue rare steak, and lobster. He adds to the order a Canadian Club and water, and informs the waitress to have another ready. When he's made his order, Immortal finally regards his peers.

`They call me Immortal, on account of I can't seem to be killed. Been on one or two of these hunts in the past, and I'll tell you they get nasty. Still, the cred ain't nothing to frown at, so consider me your bait. Damned bugs love me to death, usually theirs.`

He produces a hand wrapped cigarillo from his pocket, and a beat up lighter. Putting flame to the cigarillo, he takes a drag.

`I've got ordinance and a guy who can get me more. Just give the word and I'll put a call in.`

"Once we have the money secured, I suggest we exchange contact information and meet at a secure location. If no one has a suggestion for one, I have a place that will do, it isn't fancy, but it is secure. By the way, I will be the entry specialist. I can bypass most maglocks and security systems. Stealth and guile are my thing. I can also handle myself in combat, either with a pistol or an SMG. Immortal, I am going to need you ordinance guy though, 'cause my standard load isn't going to be appropriate for this run."

As he finishes the last part the door opens and in walks the waitress. She sits a stand down beside the table and places a massive tray on it. Two other waiters come in and fill the tray with the ordered food. One by one they pass out the ordered food and wine. Shadow smiles as he pours himself a glass of wine. He sips it appreciatively and inhales the smell. "Nothing like good wine."

Thirty minutes later, Miss Young returns carrying a large metal case in each arm. She hefts them up onto the table and smiles.

"There you are. If you need anything or have anything to report, contact me at the number on this chip. On the chip you will also find a map of the location."

She turns then and takes her leave.

Warpath ignored the cases for a while, more intent on finishing the large mound of half-raw meat in front of him. Mentally, he tried to figure out what he was going to do with the money. What he didn't need to use in prep for the op needed to go somewhere safe that it could be wired to his grandmother in case of his demise.

The whole deal reeked of death, of course. And he could only hope that it wasn't his.

:: One eyebrow raises at Scratchs unusual comment, though Mages were rare to a degree, her experience in the shadows had shown them to be a bit more concentrated. ::

"No more or less interesting than most, and obviously not the only one with magical talents."

:: As she finishes her meal, a good portion untouched, she sighs contently. ::

"That was scrumptious. Ok, as pleasant as this has all been, I think it's time to retire to a more private location to begin discussing how we wish to prepare for what lies ahead. Shadow has graciously offered his place as a secure meet. I say we take him up on it. Any objections?"

:: She continues to sip from her glass of wine as the group disseminates their contact information. ::

Onna eats in relative silence, pausing to watch each person as they speak. She saves a small portion from every entree and course, pushed to the side. No reason you shouldn't share in the bounty little sister. The thanks comes back as a surge of affection from Yuki. She asks the waitress for a to-go container for the mini-meal she has assembled.

"I am fine meeting. Now or later?"

She fumbles out her pocket sec and stabs at the keys. Finally she is able to send and receive contact info. She looks to Scratch as the group exchanges info.

"Did you want to talk now? We could talk before the meeting."

"When ever is fine," Shadow says as he lifts himself up from the table. His food is gone, nothing but an empty plate. For such a slim figure he seems to eat a lot and fast.

"There’s no easy way to do this, at some point we are going to have to trust each other for the op to move on. I am not comfortable disclosing the location of the place under such obviously surveillance conditions though." As he speaks he opens one of the briefcases and starts counting out forty-five units of 50 nuyen bills. Each unit is stacked with twenty five bills. Once he is done, he places the bills inside his coat.

"Only slightly heavier," he says with a smile. "I have a black Rapier out front. Anyone who wants to come is welcome to follow me out ot my bike. I sugest once we are outside we exchange comm. capabilities and move out." He smiles again and walks for the door, careful to keep an eye out for anyone following.

"Yeah, because nothing shouts 'we're not suspicious' like a huge convoy of vehicles." Scratch just grins as he gets up, grabbing what's left of one of his beers in one hand and tucking another one inside his jacket. "I'm sure that if this room was a major security risk, the buxom one wouldn't have thrown nearly a hundred grand at our feet to keep a secret. But if you're really paranoid about it, just jot the address down on a napkin or something. Some of us might have a few things we want to do before we get there anyway."

He finishes what he's doing and tosses his napkin-turned-bib onto the plate. While he's gathering his 10,000¥ share from the briefcase, the satyr looks over and nods to Onna in response to her halting English.

"Tell you what, love. If you don't have a vehicle I'll give you a ride and we can talk on the way. Frosty? If you do, I'm sure we can find the time later. It's no big deal."

Grendel thought it would be counterproductive to point out that eight operators dismounting from an armored van would be just as suspicious. If Scratch was comfortable consolidating vehicles here, so be it. In his experience, though, vehicles parked for longer than several hours in down town tended to get towed. He did not give that opinion either. After the Satyr was finished, he pocketed his own portion of the cash. He wondered, momentarily, what had caused Shadow to ask for cash instead of certified. The overhead surveillance window in the corner of his vision showed the Night One moving towards his motorcycle. Opening his comm screen, he cycled the frequencies back to what the he and Shadow used before. There was little chance that he was still covering those frequencies, but the effort cost so little balanced against the possible benefits.

"One, Base, winchester. One, Base, winchester."

Shadow smiled at the familiar sound. He reached into his pocket and keyed the unit. It was connected to his subdermal mic and earpiece.

"Base this is one, good to see you again. Over."

Shadow casually leaned against his bike that sat across the street. He knew he was being paranoid but there was just something that didn't sit well with him. Maybe it's just the bugs.

"Likewise, One, I wasn't expecting you to still be guarding this freq. If you want, we can reserve this for our own comms and establish a pair of new channels for the rest of the team. Is it safe to assume you're still running the same encryption protocols? What do you think of the mission so far?"

"Yeah well money has been tight lately so I haven't had the cash to invest in new comms or encryption. And to be honest I work alone mostly, no need for coms. As for the mission, I am glad you are here. Something about our contact gives me the willies. I can't quite place my finger on it, but it's there. Like I said we only have her word that she works for Draco. You worked with anyone from this crew before? I have heard of a few of them, but this is the first face to face."

Shadow reaches into his pocket and removes some cards, each on has an address, directions, and the code to the underground parking garage for the safe house he maintains in Tacoma.

"Warpath and I have worked together before, he's very competent at what he does. As for the others, all I have is the word on the street. As for our Johnson, we have no assurances one way or another. Were you thinking of doing some investigating? Prior to this, none of my contacts could determine who called the meeting. Also, did you receive a physical invitation to this meeting? Does that strike you at all as odd? That a Johnson would go through the trouble of locating our individual homes and hand delivering an invitation? Whoever she is and whoever she works for, they have resources. I'm not sure it would be wise to dig too deeply into her story."

"I agree, this may be a 'ignorance is the better part of valor' situation. I had a friend do some digging an he got nadda as well. For now I suggest extreme caution. It annoys me that she was able to find my home address so easily, and I may have to bag that location. For now though I am going to stay in my safe house. The address by the way, is 710 Yukon, in Tacoma."

Gathering her pay and the doggie bag, Onna nods to Scratch. "That would be ok. Please lead on." She gives a small bow to all, except Father whom she addresses personally. "Thank you Honored Elder, I look forward to the days ahead when I can repay your kindness." She falls into step behind Scratch.

"Noted. I'll cover the route as usual, although I plan to bring up the rear. This tasking seems to me to lend itself to a scorched earth policy. We may want to advocate a hard in/hard out plan, although we definitely need more intel on the site itself. Also, if we're going to go in hard, we may be able to loot some useful items from the facility. Just a thought. Onna and Scratch are on their way out towards you now."

"Thanks for the info. I was hoping for some on site salvage, and I definitely agree with the scorched earth. Hold on a sec."

Shadow smiles at Onna and Scratch as they walk out. "Hey, here's my card incase you guys want to hook up later," he says very casually, for the benefit of anyone listening.

"I am sure you are already planning it but if you could keep up surveillance on the safe house while were there that would be great."

"Null sweat, I'll have eyes on before and during our stay."

"Peachy," Scratch replied, taking the card and, nimbly twirling it in his fingers, it disappeared. Performing nearly the same action, another card appeared in its place which he returned to the night one. "Gimme a call if you make any other plans before we meet again." Looking down, it's one of the same cards Miss Young had apparently delivered to each of us, the only change being that it had a local LTG number scribbled on the back.

He turned and offered a smile to everyone. "Enjoyed the dinner. See you guys later." His smile turned into a grin as he offered his arm to Onna. "Shall we?"

As the plan is established, Warpath nods his agreement. "Sounds like a plan to me." He stretcheed, his belly was slightly distended from a gigantic meal, and rises to collect his cut of the cash. Outside, he collected the address and matched up radio frequencies before heading for his Brumby. He issued another mental command and one of the jukeboxes slotted a map chip into his skull.

The Seattle city grid swam before his vision and he input his destination. The shortest route between the current location and the safehouse was highlighted in green, though he spent some time plotting a more circuitous route that would take him past Ziggy's shop.

"Excellent, any chance you could do a drive by of the building and get us some actual photos or is that asking to much?"

Shadow nods to Warpath as the big warrior walks away.

"While possible, I think it would be wise to wait for some kind of group consensus on how best to conduct surveillance. With the site in Puyallup, we run the risk of counterdetection if precautions are not taken. Surveillance is inevitable, but we do have some time within which to plan before action is required. Also, it would be useful to coordinate our Awakened with our physical surveillance in order to minimize the time that we are exposed to counterdetection."

He waited, last out of the room sans the statue of an elf. He collected the cash, tucking it away in various pockets to prevent a bulge, and nodded once before turning away, heading outside.

He spotted the three runners grouped up outside near Shadow's bike, and let his eyes roam over the city outside as he strolled over, always alert, as any good predator.

He draws a personal tac com unit from a breast pocket, titling it towards Shadow and cycling through three frequency's on the small screen. He pauses, waiting for affirmation on the frequencies, and collects a card, turning off and heading down the street, driving away on a bike. The finish on the bike was dull enough not to reflect most of the street lights, and without a bit of chrome or a reflective surface.

The thrum of the transducer translating radio chatter into impulses similar to thoughts stuck with Warpath, aka Scott, for several seconds as everyone confirmed the frequencies. He sent his own, the transducer rendering his mental voice into a flat monotone. Outside the Brumby, the late summer evening slid by. It was still too early for the hardcore gangers to be out, and most of the wage-slaves were tucked securely in their domiciles, which meant that the roads were halfway navigable.

The route to Ziggy's place was etched across his digital display in glowing green with his position and bearing marked with a red arrow. The longitude and lattitude were marked alongside the arrow and rippled as he drove.

The route he'd planned took him through much of Renton and a bit of Auburn before dropping him at Ziggy's place in Kent on the west side of Renton. While he drove he had plenty of time to think about where he was going and why. The run was weighing heavily on his mind.

Was he doing it for the money? No. It wasn't that. He needed money, just like everyone else, but he didn't need it enough to march into bug central. He was doing it to smack a corp who thought they could get away with anything just because they had money and power. He'd seen the type before, many times, and the thought of them doing it and getting away with it, made his blood pressure rise.

After a good twenty minutes of brooding, he put through a call using his pocket secretary. The little box rang three times before his friend picked up.

"Yo."

"Hey, Zig. Got time for a beer?"

"Scott? I always got time for a beer. I thought you were busy tonight."

"I got unbusy."

"Right. Come on over."

"On my way. Put some pants on before I get there."

"It's my house, you know."

"Just put them on."

Scott knew that Ziggy meant well, he just got forgetful some times. It'd only happened one time, but the thought of the techie's naked form still haunted his nightmares.

Ten minutes later, they were parked in Ziggy's living room drinking cold synthetic beer and trying to ignore the yammering trid.

"So, that mystery thing..." Ziggy asked, after a moment of silence.

"It's ugly. I can't talk about it."

"I figured as much."

The silence reigned for a few seconds longer.

"Look, Zig... I need a favor."

Ziggy nodded by way of response so Scott fished some cash, about half of the pay from the meet, from his pocket and slid it to his friend. "If you don't hear from me in a couple weeks, send half of that to my grandmother and throw a party or something with the rest."

Ziggy took the cash and nodded. "You know you'll be taking it back in a few days. Don't go talking about not coming back."

"Well, you never know."

They finished their drinks in silence and about ten minutes later, Warpath was back in the Brumby. He drove the long way to the safehouse, going through Auburn a good bit before winding through Tacoma.

Onna nods. "I am ready." Waiting till a distance has been created from the other people from the meet. "What is it you wanted to know?" Her tone is nuetral and relaxed.

"As always Grendel, your mind is thinking of tactics far beyond us mere mortals. Ok, after we meat then. I am going to hit the road, and I will see you in Tacoma. Over and Out."

Shadow slipped his hand into his pocket and turned the volume down on the radio. He smiled as the last person came out like they were old friends. Once everyone had his location he straddled his bike and fired up the engine. The 800cc motor roared to life with a hum that made glass shake.

"You ready Father?" He said to his passenger. Making sure the intersection was clear the elf put the racing machine in gear and slammed on the throttle. The engine roared as power was put to it. However; the bike did not move. After a few seconds of rejoicing in the power of his machine he let the engine die down some before engaging the clutch. The racing bike moved out into traffic at a sedate speed. The driver was sure to follow all the proper laws as not to attract unwanted attention.

Forty five minutes, and one detour to Father's apartment, later, he coasted down a concrete ramp into the underground parking facility of the Yukon apartments. They were nothing special, just semi secure. He paid a stipend to the Bloody Caps every week to make sure his place was left alone. It usually was.

Once inside his place on the third floor he fired up the computer and the trid and made sure his matrix connection was live for Father's use He also warmed up his white noise generator and the tremblers on the window. No one would be listening in. He stored his fifty-five thousand nuyen in the hidden compartment under the stove until he could properly secure it later. Once he was satisfied he waited patiently on the couch.

:: Sitting alone for a moment, her thoughts organizing themselves, she takes a meditative deep breath and exhales slowly. Rising, she takes two steps forward and transfers the remaining cash into her briefcase. Then, she walks around the table slowly picking up a small item from each plate. A fork here, a napkin there, a discarded toothpick. Wrapping all the items in a small white napkin, she secures it in her briefcase. ::

:: Turning, she leaves the room behind and saunters outside just in time to catch the exchange of information before returning to the valet booth to collect her car. Taking a seat in the luxurious leather, she turns to smile at the small pixie sitting on the passenger seat. The pixie gives her a thumbs up sign, telling her that nothing suspiscious was done to her car in the mean time. ::

:: Punching in the address information and confirming the computer's pregenerated route, she allows the autopilot to take control as she watches Rusion transform back into the familiar black cat. ::

"So....thoughts?"

:: Silk pulled her leg up and wrapped an arm around the bended limb. ::

"Well...an interesting group, to be sure. Lots of talent and some interesting oddities. I just hope everyone is actually prepared for what's in store ahead."

:: During the drive, she pulls out the assortment of discarded effects and takes a moment to study the impressions left behind, trying to gain some understanding of her new teammates. ::

Immortal walks out of the pissor after everyone's already exchanged info and gone. Hell, he didn't even have time to scam a ride. No worries though. He's got his eye on a truck anyway, this advance should cover it. He'll need the room for gear. After he calls a cab, he sends a message to both Wrench and Marcus, asking that they put feelers out, see about getting him a Toyota Gopher over the next day or so. When the cab arrives, he gives an adress a few blocks from his alley. It'll be good to finally get himself a POV, save on cab fare.

Father leaves with the group. Bowing to Onna as she and Scratch leave, he reiterates that it was no trouble at all. Exchangeing communication frequencies, public keys, and the like, he turns to Shadow, "If you have the room still, I'll take you up on your offer of a ride. But a question for you: is your safehouse equiped with a dataport? If so, if we could detour to my place and get my deck should any information gathering be necessary as we work. Work for you?"