Girl looks at the ten-spot, and then back up at Mickey. "You pay me now? You think I gotta be bribed?"

She bristles at the insinuation, but gathers her jacket (she stole it from one of the now-abandoned bunks in the Barracks. It belonged to Trash, and is too large. The bat over her shoulder and the Colt Asp in her pocket used to belong to Trash, too.) She checks to make sure the gun's properly loaded, and mentions, while lacing on her knee-high boots, "My vote is for Nick or Mother, whoever has the most once all the other votes are counted."

There's something strange about this girl.

Pankiller looks at Nick and Mother.

"Chummers, mind if we talk for a moment? I happen to know some people down there who might give us a hand. If the guy who iced Ghost is teaming up with some organleggers, I'm pretty sure we'll be able to find them pronto. (*)

Of course, some people here might thinkg they are a little... uhm, disturbing."

(*) Spanish for soon.

He gives Girl that half vacant stare and shakes his head, trigger finger twitching. "Girl, I was just making sure you'd have a few nuyen to spend at whatever drinking establishment you went to so you would have time to spread the little tale and not get thrown out for ordering water." His voice is his usual clear and calm voice...he showed no irritation at all at her bristling. She was just establishing herself, which was good. He'd not hold her attitude against her. He slips the spare clips into his pockets, different ammo type in each. He didn't want to mess that up!

He looks at Nick with a slight look of relief on his face when he's "disqualified" from leadership. He didn't doubt he could do it, he just didn't want to. He had his hands full with the girls, Tony's little friend's problem and his personal little battle. "I'll abstain from voting for now and reserve myself as a tie breaker."

He looks over at Yellow and says, "would you be offended if I kept you from the fight for a while so we could get that arm on you and get it working?" He phrases it as a question, but it's fairly obvious he means it as "You're sitting this one out while ya get set up."

Finally, he looks at Mother. "Perhaps you would do the honours of lighting the pyre?" He nods at her change of dress approvingly as he gives this nod to her loyalty.

Mickey turns his attention to Painkiller, listening intently. "I had intended to check with a contact of mine about the organlegging side of things when I took Yellow to see about her cyberarm attatchment surgury. I called him about it earlier, but he's not gotten back to me yet."

Mother looks at Mickey for a second, and then moves herself to speech. Her voice is clear and loud, exactly the opposite from how it usually is. "If you like, but you guys knew him better than I did."

She wanders over to the pyre and lights a smoke. She takes a few drags before dropping it on the wood. "We're starting to run out of wood."

Just as she drops the smoke, there comes a crashing sound from the front window. You can hear a particularly loud motorcycle roaring away. There's a piece of paper tied around the brick. 'Dear Burning Bodies, we are the Wild Riders. You have 24 hours to a) disband, b)swear alligiance, or c) scale back your operation to 1 block. We're moving in. Fail to comply at your own risk.'

Mickey calmly picks up the brick and reads the note to himself, then thinks for a moment.

"I think we may need to get ahold of the Hellbringers, folks. This says the Wild Riders are moving in." He reads the message to everyone.


"Now, as we all know, with no set territory, Wild Riders claim no turf. Or, rather, they claim anywhere they are at that exact second to be their turf. They are vicious and take no prisoners, but only if provoked. They usually clear out of wherever they are after a day or so, so they don’t get bothered much. They do have a beef with the Hellbringers, although no one really remembers what it’s about."

"I suspect they may move on after a few days, but I can't guarantee it. If anyone's on good terms with the Hellbringers, now's the time to speak up. I think they'd help out if we had to go up against the Riders."

"If we decide to wait it out, perhaps we can make a deal with Monk's Skull Crushing Bad Boyz. They helped us out against the Losers before. Maybe they'll let us crash on their turf and let us stash our stuff there. That big semi will come in handy for this."

"Or...do we attack those rabid bastards? Maybe set explosives everywhere and kill 'em all by sacrificing our house...then relocating to the Loser's old doss. I don't think I'd be happy letting them keep this place.
Yeah...make the roof collapse on 'em and keep their bikes! That would be cool. We could sell the bikes for huge cash and really get set up..." He rambles on with grandiose ideas for quite a few minutes before someone manages to cut him off.

Nick holds up his hand, then takes the note from Mickey.

"Er, thats enough talking for now, Mickey. Burning Bodies? Thats a low fucking insult. It's pretty good though."

"Damn. Karma's been fucking us Edgers in the ear lately. When the wheel rolls around to the good side again, we're due for some major fortune, at this rate.", Nick thinks.

Nick lowers the note, and turns to address everyone.

"Listen up. The Wild Riders want to take over our turf. We won our right to this chunk of sprawl last night, so we're fucking keeping it. Now, theres over 50 of them, so we're going to have to be crafty. I say, for now, we swear allegiance, until we can get something big, and..."

Nick suddenly remembers something.

"...I'll carve out a path o' destruction ten miles wide for you guys whenever you want..."

"Jennifer! Singleton Estates! Th-the hooker with a cranial bomb! She could solve all our problems with one go! We just have to get the detonator from her pimp! You remember, don't you Mickey!?", Nick exclaims, a look of wild excitement on his face.

Mickey sighs as he's cut off! He was on a good rant there, dammit! Then Nick mentions Jennifer's promise.

"Yes, I remember, but don't go making her exaggeration into our solution. I have been thinking about how to get that detonater though. I figure I have a good, simple plan, but I don't know if now is the time. We have a lot on our plate right now."

Nick shakes his head.

"Mickey, I was building on your explosives idea. We lure them all to one area, Kaboom, then pick off any survivors. I know it couldn't possibly be ten miles, or even one mile wide, but we have a very convenient walking bomb. It's as good a plan as any."

Then he looks around.

"Anyway, I guess I'll go guard the hookers now. Girl, Bishop, and Diablo. The three of you come with me. We've got guard detail. And I guess we have to walk, because my bike can't hold four of us. Wait, theres more bikes in garage. Any of you know how to ride? Motorcycles aren't that hard to use. I'll give you a crash course, so to speak...Oh yeah, Mickey, save me his bandana, jacket, and stun baton. I'm gonna ram it up Rusty Nail's ass when I get my hands on him."

Mickey nods and watches them go. A nice explosion would sure send a message. "Does anyone have any explosives? Or can anyone get any?" If they couldn't access the stuff, the point would be moot. He was waiting for Dr. Mallus to call back with an appointment for Yellow, he had to see about his bud Tony's pal's little problem and he still had two more pimps to elimenate...and it all got shoved to the side for dealing with the two newest troubles! Well, he'd have to let Tony know that he had a full plate right now...unless his buddy was willing to weild a weapon and stand with the Edgers.

Diablo, Widow's nephew's friend, one of the rookies, raises his hand, gingerly.

"I had to leave most of my stuff when me an' Bishop had ta leave, but I still got some on me. I'm even kinda good at usin' 'em."

He looks around the room for a minute.

"I don't think I got enough to take down the whole house, though."

Mickey nodded to Diablo. "Can you make or get more quickly? We do not need to blow up the whole house...just the things that support it. I'm certain we could have a few surprises to add to the havoc that would cause...like maybe running a tractor-trailer over it. Ah, if only we had some grenades."

"Grenades? I got two of those. Okay, so, it's only two, but... anyways. I can probably make more befor tomorrow, but we're gonna have to go hit a grocery store and a drug store. And if anyone can spare some ammo, I have some good uses for gunpowder."

Diablo looks to Nick.

"Uh, maybe I should stay here. I think I'd be a bigger help here."

Widow speaks up. "I'll come help deal with the girls. Let me pick up Girl, first, though. She'd kill me if she got left out of a chance to spread some havoc."

Bishop speaks "I can ride, yeah. I just don't got a bike."

"Excellent. Painkiller, why don't you take a few Edgers and go collect what Diablo puts on his shopping list. Blitz, Nick, if you have any usefull things to bring to the table, then say so."

He pulls any flares out of his survival kit and takes out one of his spare clips and the clip of EX that Nick gave him, handing them to Diablo. "I'd give you more if I could spare it."

Diablo takes the flares and ammo gratefully. "Thanks. I'll be in the kitchen if anyone else needs me."

He quickly jots down a list of stuff, most of it easily obtainable at a grocery store or drug store, and hands it to Painkiller. "If there's anything you can't get, don't worry about it. Everything here can be replaced with something else."

"Theres a bike in the garage that has no owner, Bishop. It's the one with circuit design. I just did maintenence on it yesterday, its fine.", Nick says to Bishop.

"Let me see if I got anything to give to Diablo.", Nick announces, heading downstairs. He comes back up with 4 Flash-Paks, and 20 shotgun rounds, 10 of them Flechette and 10 of them regular.

"Here you go, kid. Maybe you could jury rig some shrapnel bombs out of the flechette rounds, or something."

Nick heads out, waiting by his bike for the others.

When Nick's words to his call for vengance cleared his lips, a look that exhuded an aura of lethality washed from the large Trog. He hadn't been facing [/B]Nick's way when he'd made his address, but he turned his icy gaze that way. [B]Blitzkreig was as loyal a Troll as you'd find in the sprawl, but there was one thing that could set him against a chummer.

"stupid wanker..."

The two words echoed in his skull. If there was anything in this world that could turn Jared Kreig from plain violent to outright sociopathic it was someone calling him stupid. He'd spent his childhood being called stupid. He'd been cowed into believing his father held power over him because he was just that: stupid. The day he'd had enough of being stupid was the day he'd broken his father's neck. No one got away with it since then. He wasn't a tactical genius, he wasn't the best of leaders, but he sure as frag wasn't stupid.

As the gathered gangers bowled over the conversation, and talk turned away from Ghost, as if he was just another body on the street, and to this other gang, he remained silent. His gaze leveled right at Nick. The fingers of his chain wrapped hand flexed hard enough to warp the heavy metal, and his breathing was slow, and measured. He doesn't even hear Mikey address him, doesn't even really catch talk of this biker gang. He'd rumbled with enough bikers in the past to know they're drek off their hogs; but instead of focusing on the remaining Loser trash, the biker's had taken over already.

So be it, he'd been the one to drop the ball when they took the Losers down. He should have tracked the scum to their boltholes and forcefed them their own teeth. He'd failed though. He'd failed Promo and he'd failed Ghost. He takes in one last long breath and cracks his neck to the side.

Guess it's up to me to make things right.

He takes a long moment to look over the gathered Edgers once more. Stopping to nod to Yellow and to Mother. At least they were ready for a fight. A nagging part of him, a deep down maleness had to admit Mother looked badass fine in her war gear. Pity she'd be fighting another fight.

He doesn't say a word, he just turns and heads back out the door he'd stormed through. Back to Skags. He was gonna see about picking up a few able bodies, and maybe some info on these Loser cast offs. As he heads out, he does make a grab, and picks up one of the phones someone'd left behind. He'd call his ear in the 'Star while he was walking.

"Shit, was it something I said? I wonder where he's going. He looks like he wants to kill someone..."

"Hey Blitz!", Nick shouts. "I'm sorry, alright!? But, whatever you need to do, be careful! The gang can't take another hit!"

Nick watches as Blitz silently walks off.

"Man, I almost joined the Wild Riders back when. Now I'm going to help blow them to shit..."

Nick thinks a minute.

"Hey, why don't we all try to round some people up for this? If each of us can get 3 guys with guns, we'd have a force that could rival the Riders. And with the element of surprise, they'd be fucked. I bet Boris has a bunch of guys who like nothing more than to kill. Or, hey, we could even hire some Shadowrunners...", Nick muses.

OOC: Boris is Nick's fixer contact.

"Or better..."

Painkiller dials a number in his phone.

"Yo, Mort? How are things going down there? I've got a deal for you. My gang needs some extra muscle to take down some fraggers. If you have some friends who can help us, you can have the deaders for the chop-shop, tax-free. Deal?

By the way, have you heard of an ex-Loser called Rusty? Me and my chummers would be very interested in having one last conversation with him..."

OOC: LM, Mort is the organlegger's name. I think it fits him.

Mickey watches all the activity going on. In a lul in the noice, he speaks up. "I am going to go and talk with the Hellbringers. See what I can find out and if they want in on the action." He readies his pistol, then holsters it again. He'd not bring the SMG...he'd put it where he stashed his stuff, that loose board he'd found in the floor. Then he steeled himself some, hoping the "white flag of biz" would keep him safe. Desparate times...

Hellbringer territory seems to differ from everyone else's territory in one respect. There are *way* more bikes parked on the street. Mickey rolls into the area cautiously, keeping an eye peeled for Hellbringers who would spot his colors and teach him a new meaning of pain, but there's not a great deal of threat of death today. At least, not yet.

Eventually, he finds a bar that he's heard a bit about. Judging by the number of bikes out front, and their common paint jobs, what he's heard is true.

Two Hellbringers, just coming outside, notice his colors, as he hovers about, trying to decide what to do. The larger of the two, a long-haired, bare-chested guy a leather jacket pipes up. "Can I help you?"

Blitz flips open his newly acquired phone as he pounds pavement making his way to Skags. Lone Star presence may not be so appreciated around these parts, but they've got their uses. He takes a moment to kickstart his memory, and dials up his inside man.

`Hey pal, long time no chat. Got something might be of interest to you.`

Even if he does recruit some muscle at Skags, he'd need some insurance. Sure, it was sour having to call in the pigs, but you know, he's the type who does what needs doing to get a job done.

Mickey nods at the big guy, his trigger finger twitching. It just felt wrong to be here. He was alone in enemy territory with no plan B.

"We'll have to see.I have come on official biz, Bleeding Edge and Hellbringers. I need to see the big man regarding a territorial issue regarding a third party." He slowly opens his jacket, taking out his pistol, but by the barrel, not by the grip. "I assume there's a weapon's check before I get to see him?" He hands the pistol to the bare chested man, handle facing him. "While one of you goes to inform him that Mickey Finn is here to see him, I'll wait with the other. Be sure to mention that it involves the Wild Riders and that I am hoping to come to an agreement regarding their status."

"I like your formality and all, but there's no need to go see the big man. You're lookin' at 'im. So, let's pop us inside and have another round, and see what we can do for each other, shall we?"

(Assuming Mickey agrees)

The man walks back into the bar, with Mickey in tow. He's greeted by the bartender. "Oi, Dave, you forget something?" "Only a pint for my new friend here." THe bartender looks to Mickey, noticing his colors. His gaze lingers for just a second, and then he looks back to Dave "Break out the good stuff?" "Might as well."

The place has about a dozen people showing Hellbringer colors, and about a dozen more who don't, but obviously own a bike out front. "So, Mick," Dave says, sitting down at a booth with a pint, "Ley 'er on me."

Blitz's pal, officer Friday, speaks clearly and consisely into the telephone. "Hello again, my friend. What exactly is it that I can do for you?"

Widow hops on her bike, and Bishop grabs the one with the circuit-board design. The sun is beginning to fall, although it's not set yet. The stroll is fairly quiet. *Very* quiet, actually. All the girls anyone talks to complain about no business, and no none Edge controlled girls are around at all. Some ask if Yellow's going to be coming back to work, or if she hangs out with the gang now. Other than that, everyone just smokes and looks anxious. It's almost as if the neighbourhood knows what's going to happen.

Bishop lights up a small cigar, and whispers something in... Russian?

"Yeah, Bishop. I agree with you. Some shit is about to go down, and I think the sun might be setting on the Bleeding Edge.", Nick says, still sitting on his motorcycle, resting his forearms and the handlebars. He takes one last puff from his cigarette, then flicks it down onto the ground, and extinguishes the red glow with the thick sole of his engineer's boots.

"Fuck it, nothing's gonna happen. Let's get out of here.", Nick says, revving up his bike.

"Hey Widow! We're leaving!", Nick shouts, then rides off back to the doss.

Mickey re-holsters his gun, since it was not taken. Like it would save him if the Hellbringers decided he was more valuable as street pizza anyway. He follows the bare chested hut in (name?) and nods to the bartender, while getting a little more nervous as he sees all the Hellbringers surrounding him. Was Renraku allready in control...oh gawd, please if ever you listened before, don't let fragging Renraku own these guys...

His trigger finger twitched due to his nervousness, but other than that he remained outwardly calm. How much should he say? Lay it all on the line? Too vulnerable! Better not lie, though...This was a mistake! It could only go wrong...

"We recieved a message from the Wild Riders. Thay gave us an ultimatum...we join them and start at the bottom of their totem pole, we leave or we fight. In any case, they want our turf and we don't want to give it to them. They want it in 23 hours! The Edgers and Hellbringers have been neighbors a long time, making us the devil you know. The Wild Riders are a bigger devil. And they want to move in right next to you. I know not any details, but it is my understanding that for the Hellbringers this would be a less than desirable situation. We Edgers don't care for it either. And so, I propose an alliance. Let's bring down this beast! Neither of us care for them, we both have an interest in breaking them. I say together we cry havoc and unleash the hounds of war!"

Mickey thinks himself particularly clever with that last play on words, letting a wry grin crease his face and for a moment forgetting he was surrounded by hostiles.

Dave seems uninterested in what Mickey is saying, as he downs the ale.

"I understand, I've been there. I used to belong to a little group called Big Bruises. Munk's boyz ate us up because one of the guys hit on one of their guy's old ladies. It's a rough life."

He lights a smoke, and offers one to Mikey.

"We got about 35 guys, and about 20 more we can bring in in a pinch. They got about 50, and who knows how many they can bring in. I hear they got the Lord's Men up at Cottage Lake completely under their thumbs. So, I can't really put my crew out on the line for nothing at all, you understand."

Taking a drag of his smoke, he continues. "The way I see it, we have a coupla' options. You can pay us. We have been known to rumble for hire. Although it'd have to be a pretty penny to take out the all of the Wild Riders. You can join, even without disbanding. We have a branch down in Kingsgate that is officially The Hellbringers of Kingsgate. They used to be the Kingsgate Crew. I could see making you guys the Bleeding Hellbringers. You'd take orders from us, whenever we gave them, and you'd have to adopt our colors and name, but it's an option. The third option involves rolling over and taking it up the hoop by some Wild Riders."

"But even if you guys just disbanded, I'm sure we'd have no problem taking most of you. I've heard some of the old stories of Molly, the girl Promo was with for so long. She wouldn't even have to be someone's old lady to get in. We could alwayse use a firce bitch like that."

"Anyways, think about it. In the meantime, drinks are free."

When Nick arrives back at the doss, he gets on his phone, and dials up Boris, his fixer friend.

"Hey, Boris, it's Nick. Listen up. I've got some urgent news. My gang is going to be attacked by the Wild Riders, that bike gang. It seems they want some turf, and they think ours is ripe for the taking. We want to show those bastards otherwise. If you've got any guys with violent demeanors, and happy trigger fingers, I'd appreciate it if you could send them over. In return, you can have...all their weapons and ammo. Theres about fifty of them, so you could stand to make some serious profit."

Well, this was a no-brainer. None of the options presented were viable.

"Well, how about you tell me about Match, his desert war lieutennant and how they fight? That costs you nothing and may reap gains in the future indirectly. Also, if you have hardwear available, I am certain the Edgers could use whatever we could afford. The rest...I'll have to see after I hear what you have to tell me."

An idea started to form in his head...it was a nasty trick and may or may not work. He studied their colours, making a mental image to see if they could be imitated easily. Perhaps the Riders could be...redirected?

Dave scratches his chin. "Match? Yeah, I don't run across him much. He seems to not really do much for tactics. They usually just do the normal rumbling thing... yeah."

He takes another swig.

"Oh! I can lend you guys. Nobody says they can't wear red and silver for a day. Some of them *really* like any excuse to crack some Wild Rider heads. I'd have to find some kinda compensation out of the deal, but I don't think it'd be much."

Mickey nods at the permission to borrow some warm bodies. That could help!

"Compensation's easy. Any guys that join the battle get a share of the loot when we've won. I would like to know how many would show for the fight if you have an estimate...it will help in our planning to know how much cavalry we'll have. Now, have you any hardwear you can sell? More and better weapons, ammo, explosives and armour will always come in handy."

"Well, I'd have to ask them, but I know for sure of a half dozen guys are alwayse screaming for Rider blood. I'm sure we could convince another dozen, but no guarentees. They'd probably want basically all the hardware off the Riders. Like I said, I'd have to talk to them."

"As for hardware. What do you want? We'll see what we can scrounge up."

Boris takes a second to flip through his address book. "You talking about a couple skilled guys, or as many warm bodies with guns as I can put together? Either way, it's not going to be free."

He grins...a possible 18 guys! That would be a signifigant addition!

"Grenades, explosives, heck, even gunpowder! Support would be good too if any wish to help make some explosives."

He would have to check and see what was in the gang's coffers, but he knew he had 1000 nuyen of it that he'd set aside from Teng's credstick. He pulls it out and shows that he has cash. "This is all I have with me...more can be gotten. As for loot, I am certain it will be profitable...after all, each rider has a bike!

The meeting was wrapping up. It sucked negotiating from a position of weakness! Made it all go badly when payment was discussed!

After any arrangement were made, he'd give Tony a call. Squatters were always overlooked, but ofton knew more than anyone else. Besides, if things went badly, he could always hide with the guy.

Nick checks his meager credstick.

"Hmmm, when you say skilled, how skilled do you mean? A nice mix of the two would be good. Like I said, as for payment, I could give you all their weapons and armor. Or, alternatively, if you could hook us up with a couple guys who can wire our doss with a lot of explosives, we'd appreciate that, and we would pay you, of course."

"By skilled, I mean the true blue. Shadowrunners, omae. I don't think they'd be interested in the loot. That's usually an unspoken side-benifit. I can toss street scum at you in droves, but they'll mostly be dead by the end of it. Or, you could grab some real talent."

"I'll see what I can do about the explosives guy, but no guarentees. My regular guy is way the hell out in Aztland right now."

Blitz supresses a low growl when Friday calls him friend. He ain't a friend of this guy, he's come close to killing him a lot of times, but he'll pretend. He's pretended long enough as it is.

`Omae, how would you be interested in a career making raid?`

He doesn't stop, he's not subtle enough to allow for a pregnant pause.

`Word on the street is there's some action going down in the sewers 'round my neck of the woods. Some guy cast off from the Losers has a little posse down there, and they're making war noises. Now I wouldn't be bugging you wit' 'dis, but I hear word they've got their hands on a sizable amount of novacoke.`

Bulldrek, but a drub bust that sweet's bound to make the rookie drool.

`If you and a few of your fellow officers were to say, show up after the drek's already hit the fan, mop up. You's could make quite a haul.`

He's nearing Skags now, so he slows up, leans on a wall.

"Street scum might be nice, as we won't have to pay the survivors much, and as long as they can point their guns in the right direction, its all good. I'm afraid Shadowrunners might be out of our gang's price range at this point, 'less they're willing to work on an installment plan, or something to that effect. Maybe if you can get enough street scum, the Riders'll back down with no conflict. Some toyboys packing cheap and nasty should do us fine. Maybe you could outfit them with that shipment of cheap Vietnamese knockoff Predators you intercepted.", Nick says.

Friday thanks Blitz for the tip. "I'll pass it up the chain of command, but usually we need hard evidence for a raid, especially one into the Barrens. We'll look into it. Glad to see you doing your civic duty."

Boris ponders a moment. "Tell me what you're willing to throw at this project, up front, you understand, and I'll get you the best private army I can. I won't even take nearly as much of a fee as I usually do. I get the feeling this is important to our continued business. And you know how I appreciate doing business with you, comrade."

Mickey waits for any muscle the Hellbringers are willing to lend and any hardwear they are willing to sell, then heads back to the doss, leading the way. He was needed there right now. He walks in and lets any present know he's brought in a few ringers. After introductions are made, he goes to check on Diablo. "How're things going, Diablo?" He looks at what he's made so far, estimating how much more can be made in the short time they had. Noone was going to get any sleep tonight!

Next, he gives Dr. Mallus another call. "Dr, Mallus, it's Mickey again. You didn't return my call so I'm calling again, regarding that appointment for cybersurgery. When can it be done?"

Dave looks at the credstick. "You hold onto that. I'll talk to some of my boys, and we'll see what we can spare you. However, I do have a present for you, in the meantime. Free of charge."

He stands up, a little wobbly, and looks around his bar. "Hey, Asshole!"

About four people look up. "Sorry. Hade!"

A solitary man stands up. He's easily seven feet tall, all of it tattooes and hair. He's wearing a denim vest in Hellbringer colors, and jeans. His bare chest shows many, many scars.

"What, Dave? I'm trying to have a talk."

"I got a public relations mission for you."

"I'm not so good with people."

"Which is why I'm sending you. Go hang out with the Bleeding Edge for a bit and kick some Wild Rider ass."

Hade smiles, revealing alot of missing teeth. He walks up to Mickey and gives him a once over. After Mickey meets his approval, he extends his hand to shake. "Hale. It'll be a pleasure to be fighting with you."

<Retro post>

Mickey looks at Hade approvingly...big and strong and an easy target for the wild riders...he'd do a good job drawing fire or, with a little luck, kicking ass. Mickey extended his hand and shook Hade's...not trying to crunch it, but using respectfull firm grip. "Good to make your aquaintance, Hade. Rumble time's tomorrow. Let's go meet the boys"

"Hmm...I suppose I could get something in the neighborhood of ten grand. That should be good for something."

Dr. Mallus returns your call immediatly. "It could be done... bascially as soon as the patient shows up. She'll probably take a day or so to recover, but other than that. Actually, the recovery is just making sure she doesn't tear open her surgical wounds. So, anytime you're ready."

Diablo looks like a baker from hell right now, elbow deep in concoctions of black, yellow, blue, and green. He's wearing welder's goggles and is covered in scorch marks, and an ear to ear grin. "We got *plenty*. Just about as much as you could want to take out this entire neighbourhood. I even found the time to call a few friends. Gathered around the table are three more fresh faces. There's a young man that must be at least 300 lbs, all of it muscle, packed into 5'8" and a wide grin filled with gold teeth. His name is Gnaw. Next at the table is an undistinguished Ork that slouches a bit. Diablo tries to introduce him, but he introduces himself. "Lucy! NICE to MEET you," he booms, "not my choice, that name." And the third is a skinny little hobgoblin, obviously pissed off at being alive, much less anyone else. "Beast." He snarls.

Boris sounds a little surprised. "I expected maybe less out of you. Not to say you are small time or anything, but you've alwayse been fairly low key. I will be over at your place before nightfall, and I will have what you need. If you'll excuse me, I need to make some phone calls."

Mort, ever the businessman, can apprecaite a good deal when he sees one. "I don't have many guys on tap, you know. But I'll send any I can. Do I get anything if I provide medical support? Myself and my crew can do that for certain."

"Alright Boris. Thanks. I really appreciate it.", Nick says, then clicks his phone shut.

Nick takes a look at his credstick. 3k nuyen. All of it would have to go to Boris. He shakes his head. Then he stomps into the kitchen.

"Listen up! I have the makings of a private army coming over here. The only problem is, I'm a bit short on cash right now, so I'm going to need donations from all of you. This is part of being a ganger, so I don't want any crap. Boris is a hard motherfucker, but he's a good friend of mine. He'd probably accept any spare gear to help payment along. Cash, guns, whatever, it's all good. ", Nick shouts, hoping to make a good impact.