Jack:

"Good morning, Jack." Mr. Falcone's voice is clear but the current hour comes through slightly in the pacing of his words.

"I was informed by Daedalus that he will be unable to complete the contract. I can arrange further awakened talent, with similar criteria to that which I arranged the first team, if you need it. Are you interested?"

Jester/Wren:

Calisto stretches slightly with the hilts of knives peeking out from under the cuffs of her coat.

"I won't mind the company either meat or your drone, but either way I think we need a set of human eyes in the apartment to go over it once."

"Right, I'll pop the drone and go recon. Have fun inside."

The hidden compartment on Jester's leg springs open revealing his RC deck tucked neatly away. From under the dashboard he pulls out a optical cable and plugs it directly into the deck. The panels close silently and Jester leans back. His eyes close and his body goes limp. The roof retracts some and the drone rack extends out. The rotor drone unfolds it's blades and fires up it's engines. The drone launches into the air with a silent hum.

Over the intercom Jester announces the drones launch.

Wren watches as the drone lifts into the air disappearing shortly thereafter. He fishes his pack of nicosticks from his pocket and places the least battered into his mouth . He pulls a lighter from his pocket and lights the end drawing heavily off of it. A look of satisfaction creeps over the elf's face. "Does anyone care to join me?"

After waiting to see if anyone else wants to come he walks to the entrance stopping to finish the nicostick.He looks over the surrounding streets to look for any passerby that may be in the area.

"Ah, Mr. Falcone. Any problems with him that we need to know about? We'll definitely want someone else with the same sort of criteria...we're going to need someone to make heads an' tails of the mojo, if'n there is some."

Wren/Calisto:

Passing through the park gives ample cover without restricting your view horribly. The scent of fresh pastries is carried on the breeze from the bakery a hundred meters south of you. Providence smiles upon you as you cross the street, a woman in her late-twenties is leaving the building. She seems to read the determined movement telgraphed in your stride and holds the door open for the pair of you.

"Those things will kill you an average of ten years earlier than the average person, unless you get regular maintenance on your self-contained air filter system." Her comment is obviously directed at Wren as he stamps out the nicostick. As you look up at her, she locks eyes with you for a moment, smiles and walks down the street fishing for something in her handbag.

Uncertain how to make a comeback with out creating a scene, the violet-eyed elf heads into the building. A brief elevator trip later you stand in front of Dr. Zeidel's previous residence. Deflecting the view of the hallway with her body, Calisto gestures to the lock. Less than a minute later, the case has been removed, the lock rewired and the case reset. The hired killer nods approvingly at Wren's quick work. Opening the door, the two professionals step into the apartment out of the exposed hallway.

Vaulted ceilings obviously take Zeidel's abode through the 7th floor. The open air studio is sparsely furnished but everything there has a very distinct function and is made from real wood and leather. Cleaning drones appear to be going through their automated functions, possibly making the house ready for sale. The bed appears to be untouched, sheets tossed down and mussed from obvious use.

Across the room, there is almost a palpable division of emotion from living space to work area. An ergonomic chair beside the desk has blood stains obvious against the smooth off-white leather.

Jester:
The small drone gives you the all clear signal as it pulls free of the metal confines of the van. You note that it has reached its holding position as you activate the sensor package in the van. Signals bombard you as input is received from multiple interfaces. The van begins forming sensor locks on local vehicles noting direction, speed, distanced traveled as it formulates firing solutions. There is rigger traffic in the area but it doesn't seem to be anything beyond the corporate systems and Gridguide analyst protocols.

You watch the exchange between Wren and the woman before switching over to the Firebat. Once inside the drone you zip through trees, keeping branches around you as much as possible and darting from cover to cover. The sim-sense rig brings you the feeling of wind beneath your metallic arms as you are pulled forward by the spinning rotor-blades. The unknown woman pulls on a fashionable trode-circlet as she walks, by the time she has passed the bakery her strong walk has slowed to a casual sashay of the hips.

Focussing back on the job at hand, you stretch out your digital senses and feel the web of a wireless network push back from the windows of Zeidel's apartment. You detect several small moving objects in the room and as the door opens two metahuman signatures enter. They spread out and begin canvasing the apartment as you perch under the awning rotating the thrust of the engine slightly to hover.

Jack:
"There are not any problems that need to concern you. He is somewhat rash and goes off the deep end in combat, but I have rarely met an individual with quite the same drive to persevere. It is rare in a man of his age. I'm sure that your team should have the resources to dig up more data on him than I have been given. He came to me well-recommended by another fixer in the area and I have no reason to doubt his ability to translate the forms and concepts of magic into the tech-speak that a group such as your own needs."

Jack raises an eyebrow on his end of the phone, but he really should be used to Jared's speech patterns by now.

"Send him over then." Jack gives an address a few blocks away.

"Trixie? We've got a new guest arriving. Ah'm going to go meet him when he shows up down the way a bit. Can you hold down tha fort, and let the others know when ah'll be back?"

Jester puts the drone on auto pilot for half a heartbeat while he triggers his radio.

"Hey Jack, Trix, Jester here. We just arrived on-site and the dynamic duo is doing the bat thing. Let us know if you find anything."

After he transmits he slips back into the drone.

Jack:

"Here's the contact number I have, he calls himself Bio-Mage." With a few rushed niceties, Jaron hangs up.

That one furrows both of Jack's brows.

Bio-Mage?

He shrugs. Ah well, ah guess there are weirder ones out there somewhere...

"Keep an eye on ma body, will ya? I need to make a call." he calls out to Trixie

Jack drops into the Matrix, taking a brief second to gallop up into the local sat-com cluster, and places the call out to the newest team member.

Biomage switches from the trid show he had been watching to the incoming call and answers it.

"Hellooo.." he says with a sinister tone. He speech patterns make you wonder if he is angry or perhaps just a little eccentric, or perhaps both.

"ah..." Jack's initial conversation opener slips away in a wash of confusion at the weirdness on the other end.

"Ah...ah'm looking for a guy named...Bio?"

Jester/Wren/Calisto:

Calisto crosses the room to the desk and punches up the computer system. After a few moments, she looks up at the thin man in black and red. "The system is encrypted. We're going to need one of the tech savvy people to come down and look at this or we are taking the hardware with us." Looking through the desk drawers, the assassin pulls out a small case with a maglock that looks much more complicated than the door to the apartment. With her toolkit she manages to get the case off but cannot open the lock. "Hey Wren could you give me a hand?"

Gesturing to the box, Calisto steps toward the window but can't quite make out the van.

Jester, how are things looking?

Her voice is smooth and calm over the comm unit.

Biomage replies, "This is Biomage. What can I do for you, mister..?"

Jester waddles the drone so that it shakes it's body form side to side.

"Doing good. So far no one is getting curious or anything. I think were in the clear."

As Jester speaks he checks his sensor data, just to make sure Murphy wasn't going to bite him for saying they were goo to go.

"Yeah, were doing good."

With a flip of a virtual switch he connect to the hangar again.

"Jack, Trix, we got us a problem up here. The comp is encrypted, so either one of you comes to us or we bring the hardware to you. Your choice."

Trixie flips the switch to reply, "Bring it here, that way we can take our time dealing with it. Jack stepped out for a sec, I guess Falcone is sending over another mage to help out and Jack is meeting him."

"Erm, this is Jack. A mutual acquaintance dropped your number. Can you meet me at..." as he rattles off a coffee shop somewhere within walking distance of the hanger.

Biomage says flatly, "I'll be there."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Biomage sits down at a table facing the door and sips a cup of java soycaf while waiting for his rendezvous. He sips with his left hand and keeps his right under his coat on the grip of his SMG.

He better be here soon. If this is a setup, it's going to piss me off.

Jack shrugs back into the duster, tucking the Deputy back into it's holster and sligning the case over his shoulder.

"Back in thirty," he calls out, strolling out of the hanger.

He pauses in midsetp just outside the door, very nearly slapping his palm against his forehead.

How the hell was he supposed to pick this guy out of the crowd?

He dials the number again for the mage again, waiting patiently, very aware of how unsecure communication over a cellphone without a deck between was.

"Yeah, it's Jack. I'm a little over 6', and I'll be wearing a duster and a Stetson. Wave or something when I walk in, will you?"

Biomage picks up his cellphone and says, "Who was it that gave you my name? And how long do I have to wait?"

"5 minutes, and we'll talk about that in person, thankye' kindly."

Biomage plays with his runic stones to see what the person he is looking for looks like. With only a few tries, he is able to get a better idea of the guy's general appearance. When he sees Jack come in, he raises his cup in a toast and makes eye contact.

Now, let's see if this is legit.

His other hand remains on the grip of his SMG.

Calisto moves quickly and begins to break down the computer for transport. "Wren when you're done with that lock sweep the other entry points and look for signs of tampering." With a mental switch she taps back into the comm unit. Once we've swept this area we'll meet back at the hangar. Can you get a name for our new associate from Jack or Trixie? Also I need to know if either of them can get us copies of the autopsy report for the doctor. After that we'll need them to hit the digital bricks and see what info we can find out about the All-Father.

Calisto:

With the computer broken down, you do another scan of the room. Initially you don't see anything further, but an odd shadow catches your attention. Magnifying the image in your mind's eye, you see small tendrils pushing out of the seam of the ceiling in the corner behind Zeidel's desk. On a hunch you check the other corners and the same thing is in two others. You almost want to guess that they are micro-transmitters for a wireless uplink or network.

Elsewhere:

A trio of boys, their voices still cracking as they shout at each other to hurry, run through the cold night in Moscow. Two of them turn the corner of an alley and charge headlong into the open building where they've been hiding the last week. The third never heard the muffled report of the rifle, his head popping like a ripe melon dropped on end.

A moment later, boots creak on the worn cobblestones as the gruff man pulls a knife from his vest. The hum of the blade vibrating is soon replaced by the sound of bone snapping. Wiping the knife on the child's shirt, it is sheathed. Blunt, calloused fingers push through the incision to rip out bits of metal and tissue connected to the lower brain and upper spinal cord.

The man wraps the collected treasure in a handkerchief as he walks away. He carefully avoids the steaming puddle of blood expanding outward from the adolescent's fragmented skull.

Wren nods to Callisto. "Anything else you want to check out while we are here?"

"Roger that Cal, relaying."

"Hey Jack or Trix, Cal needs the scream sheet on the body. All the detail you can get from the cadaver carver would be great."

Jack strolls up to the man that toasted him, narrowing missing colliding with a few tables and chairs along the way, and tips the brim of the Stetson.

"Let's take a walk."

Biomage stands and says, "You lead, chummer. I have to pay for my coffee first though."

He pays for his coffee at the register, leaves a small tip, and turns to follow Jack.

"I don't think so. Let's just take one last sweep through the place. Keep an eye out for anything personal in nature - a journal, letters, and the like. I suspect he kept everything digital but you never know. After the sweep we're done." Calisto finishes up taking down the computer. "Find anything interesting in the drawer?"

Jester--

The van alerts you to the presence of something moving on the wall of the apartment building. A window opens in the lower corner of your vision with a live feed from the camera. It shows some sort of metallic spider about twenty centimeters across crawling down the building towards the ledge you are hidden under.

Everything else on the street appears unchanged.

Jack leads them out, strolling in the opposite direction of the hanger for the moment. Once they've cleared the cafe and the people mingling around, he beings to speak as he walks.

"So, do we call you Bio, Mage, or BM, or wha?"

Wren goes over the room in detail before leaving looking for anything that catches his attention.

Trixie answers Jester's call by instantly uploading him the report she found before the run started.

"Sorry, but 20% is corrupt. Thats the best I could do."

Biomage replies stoicly, "Biomage. Or whatever. Bio or BM for short. Mage if you like. Just don't call me that last one if we have a corporate assault team breathing down our necks. They always geek the mage first, and if you point me out to them.. I'd hate to have to shoot you."

He smiles after his last sentence, making you suspect he may not be totally serious. Then again... you have just met.

"Let's get down to business. Who told you how to contact me, and why?"

Calisto pauses as Wren finishes up his work. I need to know if anything unusual showed up in his brain chemistry or nervous system. If if was fried from the matrix I want to know how. Was his CNS just overriden or was there something else going on? Also what information they were able to gleam from the wound depth and angle of entry.

A subprocessor in the van routes the report to Calisto and Wren's pocket secretaries. The intrusion expert was running his fingers along the underside of the desk feeling for switches, as he looked around the room.

As the two runners pause to look through the information, Calisto half sits on the edge of the desk searching through the report looking for information. Wren does a similar mix of sitting and leaning on the bed almost subconsciously. He adjusts his weight slightly to accomadate for an odd lump in the mattress.

Victim number: 772A-15042064

Victim is a caucas^&*($#$&$$$& with obvious lacerations to the right forearm. Injuries appear self inflicted due to angle of blade and depth of incision. ^&*^($%#&(&^(^ handedness reported by next of kin...no obvious damage to cyberware implanted. Chemical reports were negative. Possible BTL overdose in recent history due to increased neurochemical levels in the brain at time of death...Medical examiner concurs with chief investigator, death was caused by victim.

The report goes on to list record of certain non-identifiable implants in Dr. Zeidel connecting the brainstem to the spinal column as well as the mesencephalon.

Jester:

The spider drone has finished its trek down the side of the building and comes to rest just beside the window into Dr. Zeidel's apartment. Silently the metal creature begins transmitting information as the internal sensor pack focuses through the glass barrier.

Biomage/Jack:
You continue your walk through Tacoma. DocWagon vans occasionally scream past you down the street. On the steps of tenement housing, chipped out kids stare through unseeing eyes at you.

Trixie: The phone in the hangar begins to ring insistently, demanding attention.

"Mr. Falcone. We're looking for someone that can provide information on the possible magic side of a death we're investigating. Interested?"

Trixie gets on the radio with Jester, "Hey, your phone is ringing off the hook here. Want me to pick it up?"

Calisto:
As you are finishing reading the report sent over to you, there is movement in your peripheral vision. You turn and see a spider-like drone peering through the window. Its metallic eyes gleam like camera lenses.

With the alert from the van, Jester slams his hand down on the big red icon to take him back to the van and starts pulling up the subsystems necessary to find the signal the drone is using and jam it.

Folks, we've got company. Stay clear of the window.

The old man curses under his breath as the systems fail to find the signal. He punches up the scanners a second time and manages to lock on to it by the skin of his teeth.

"Trixie, I'm in the middle of something. Can you answer that?"

He begins trying to intrude into the system making the emulation calculations by hand but, without the proper modules to aid him, cannot seem to keep up with the speed that the other deck transmits protocol strings.

Biomage raises an eyebrow and says, "Interesting. What's the pay?"

Wren:

Given a moment's effort, the maglock clicks open. The case appears to have a stylized trode net and three optical discs.

Bellevue:

The radio crackles with Jester's voice.

Stand back from the window.

Calisto, who had been moving towards the window to grab the spider steps back in time to see the Firebat dart out of its covered position across the street into a shadowy area between the buildings. The window muffles the sound of electronics cracking as the center of the spider buckles from the high powered rifle.

Tacoma:
The phone continues to ring in the hangar.

Hearing back from Jester, Trixie picks up the line. "Hello?"

Trixie:
A thick Arabic accent pours over the digital lines of communication as a picture of a panicked Middle Eastern man fills the screen. He is bleeding from a cut on his head and there is smoke in the background.

" 'Ello, Calisto, Trixie which one is this? Jaron has been shot. DocWagon just took him away. أنا كان أصيب بهلع"

His voice is rushed as if he isn't stopping to breathe between sentences.

Jack:
As you walk through the streets with your new teammate, you have the unsettling feeling that the chipped out kids are watching you. Shrugging it off to paranoia, you try to push it out of your mind but notice one of them turn her head to follow your path past the building.

"2k a day for pokin' around, 5 if we can prove it was murder, 10 if we deliver the guy alive, and 5 if we just take care of him outselves. You interested?"

Jack starts to curve the path around, looping back to the hanger. He notes the observation, triggering the transducer and the comm unit attached to it.

Trixie, ah've got eyes on out here. How close is the rest of the group to getting back?"

"Well, this is fragged." Calisto moves quickly and tosses the computer into the ruck sack and jogs towards the bed where Wren was ackwardly perched and kicks the matress off. "Times up boys and girls, the Star will be breathing down our necks in seconds. Take different routes out of the area, and meet back up at the hangar."

Jack:
You round the corner and get away from the chipped kids and their creepy eyes.

Calisto/Wren:
As the matress flies off the bed, a small book falls off. It appears leather bound with a small strap wrapped around the journal to keep it closed.