@ RJ

Afternoon.... Huh! All looks the same down here... Just like I like it...

Spitz' every shrinking pool of funds was beginning to get him dangerously close to being evicted. Granted, his 'apartment' was some fifty feet underground and far from the definition of luxurious, but it was home... and who liked to be kicked out of their home?

The growling of his stomach and the barren appearance of the frig did little to generate optimism at his condition. I got to find me a job... Get's much worse I'll be selling body parts to the ghouls. The last part made him shudder. Of course he wasn't serious, but he knew his situation was. If he has to starting selling off his gear, it would be harder to get quality jobs.

The unknown ID on his com gave him cause.. Had someone from MaxiTech tracked him down? He was the last of the team after all...

<<@Whoever [-BLOCKED-] Yah. What d'ya want?>>

@ RJ
On the screen appears a middle aged ork. By his looks he doesn't seem to have that overly aggressive quality or a threatening demeanor. His hair is styled in a short mohawk but that's the only striking feature.
<@Spitz[Rusty]Hoi, Chummer! The name is Rusty. Word on the street is you-sa lookin' for some biz. I gots me a Johnson who's lookin' for some hard workin' runners. You interested?>

The ork wasn't someone Spitz recognized, but it wasn't like Spitz was totally unknown. His paranoia was kicked in, but then he figured it would be until about two seconds after it didn't matter anymore.

<<@Rusty [-BLOCKED-] Sure Chummer. I'm hard hitting and looking for some extra work. I'm interested, but I don't come cheap... What ya got?>>
In the shadows a little bravado usually brought a little better rep, little more pay. Had to ride that fine line and not seem untouchable or hard to work with...

@RJ

<@Spitz[Rusty]I hear ya, Slick. You and me both. Dun know the pay but the Johnson will be at a lil known bar in downtown Seattle called On the Rocks. 7pm. Dun be late, kid.>

Spitz still isn't sure about this call but, at this point he needs a payday bad so he's willing to play it out:
<<@Rusty [Spitz] Sure thing. Just ask the 'tender for Johnson I take it?>>

While he's talking, he whips out a text to Shroom, his talismonger:
<<@Shroom [Spitz] Just got a call from a chummer calling himself Rusty. You know him? He on the level?>>

At the same time he loads up his agent and his browse program and sends it out to look for information about the bar, On The Rocks.

This was the other thing Spitz did really well. Cyber-boys needed hardware in their wetware to keep up with him when he started multitasking...

@RJ

<@Spitz[Rusty]Aye. I've told ya all I know, chummer. Have a good run and don't lose your head!> There the signal ends.


<@Spitz[Shroom]Rusty? Rusty the ork? The name has been tossed around a time or two. Can't say I know him personally, just heard he's a former runner. Was pretty arctic in his day if you know what I mean. He's definitally a middle-man on the level.>

The result of your browse search turns up the street address of the bar. It's on the boarderline of a B/C neighborhood. Alan McLin is the owner of the place and the bartender. Apparently having been for numerous years. Not much else is provided on the search. Like many bars that provide a haven for runners, there's not a whole lot of extra jazz about it in the Matrix.

"Well, that is that I suppose." Spitz says to him self as he collects his gear... zip ties under his belt; data chips, tags and fly-spy case in his pocket; pistol and ammo in the concealed-carry rig.

Looking around his little apartment, he muses at the state of his life. Living in a hole, going from job to job... I need a break. I need to move up, move over.. Something....

Heading out the door and down the tunnels he nods to those he passes. The area of the tunnels he lives in has a higher number of trolls than others; The ceilings are higher here and they don't need to duck much here.

The setup isn't a bad deal. Somebody hard-lined a wireless repeater in the area so they can pick up a matrix signal here and for the most part the other residents leave you alone. He did have to beat down a trio of orks last month who fancied themselves a little gang providing *insurance* to the residents of his apartment block. The two that can still walk won't be back.

He makes his way to the ladder that connects into the storm drains above and marvels at the structural engineering. Despite this place looking like a dump, I am forever amazed at how this all got put together. The fact that the storm drains do not flood the apartments, the structural integrity of the entire setup... His apartment block is one of the oldest in the area, dating back to the decade after the night of rage. He knows that there is newer construction underway in other tunnels where apartments with all the amenities. If the Top-Siders had an idea about the world beneath them...

He makes his way through the last tunnel and finally breaks through ground level. This particular tunnel comes up into the basement of the St Mary's Soup Kitchen near what was the Redmond Town Center.

Stepping out the door, he pulls his polarized goggles down over his eyes and the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. He hated the sun. He burned easy and broke out when he burned. I feel like a mythical monster some days....

He makes his way out and down the street to the parking garage on 73rd way. Walking up to his car he sees someone lying on the ground near the back of the car. Walking slowly around the garage, he positions himself to where he can see the body... the top of its head is missing.

He connects his PAN to his car's PAN and reviews the logs.. Dirtbag tried to steal my car this morning... Looks like the alarm system worked properly. Some time back he had tied together the ROTO-Drone to the car. The thug had tried to jimmy the door, setting off the alarm and popping the trunk. The thug then went around the car reached in the trunk and the ROTO-Drone fired one burst... BAM! Broken jar of jelly...

The lot space in the parking garage was on a monthly pass, but the security was definitely lacking. I gotta move to a better neighborhood...

The drive downtown is anything if routine. He sets the car on autopilot and arrives about 20 minutes before the meet. Time to have a look around. He finds a place to park heads towards the bar.

@Spitz

The place is nothing of great notice. It's in a two story brick building and has a little wooden sign that says On the Rocks. Even in AR there's no special decoration. It's rather bland on the outside.
The interior is nicer. The regular bar scene is going on but nothing wild yet considering it's fairly early in the evening. All around the place seems clean, simple, and durable. There's even a section with larger seats for trolls, orks, and meta-humans of the like. You can easily see a hallway leading off in one direction, the restrooms, and the bar. At which, Alan nodds to you in simple acknowledgement of your presence.

@Crank

While you're slumming about your low-lifestyle, crap hole of an appartment and reminiscing on the life that was, you get a buzz on your comm. It's Rusty - the neighborhood ork fixer. We all know, whenever Rusty calls, the echo of nuyen is not far behind.


@Nick

You haven't been awake long, but long enough to already notice that your little flirt from the other night has already left. Sure, everyone considers you just one more damned lil rich kid; they only wish they, too, had the benefits that came along with being such. After a while of doing whatever it is you bored rich kids do, you get a buzz on your comm.

6:40 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle

Spitz gives the place the once over. Not too bad.. In fact, I kinda like it...

He recognizes the owner, Alan from a media photo in the data the agent retrieved earlier. "Evening Chummer. Beer."

How Shi Sung Chung

Waking to the early morning sun...Ta Mah Duh...make that the afternoon lunch traffic, I notice a text file on the commlink. It's good news from Fastjack, apparently he vetted my background check and gave me access to one of his datahavens given my unique "perspective" ...and a little help from a friend.

I've been troubled with some of the oddities I've run into over the last couple of months. What I once thought were ghosts or spirits running inside the matrix were actually Sprites. But this was something different, it had an awareness all its own and it was observing me. It scaired the drek out me to be honest. Was it possible these sprites could exist like free spirits? Hitting Fastjack's network for some info would hopefully provide some answers.

So, I was knee deep in an acrticle written by Sunshine about VK's when I got the buzz on my commlink. Rusty? Damn this is going to be a good day.

@Rusty[Crank] Ni How, Chummer. How's it hangin' big brother?>

Tyler, or Nick Rayzer as he's known on the streets, wakes up and realizes the girls gone he simply shrugs his shoulder and slips out from under the covers and grabs some juice from the fridge. He didn't remember much about the previous night, but he was sure he had fun. Even if he didn't he still wasn't going to believe otherwise.

Then his com rings in his head. <Nicolas' pizzarea. Buy a pie you get your choice of three toppings for free!>

@Spitz
Alan serves up a beer and continues to work behind the counter. Sit wherever you like, chummer. Ya lookin' for anything special?


@Crank
<@Crank[Rusty]You still talkin' that mumbo-jumbo crap? Can't believe yo mamma still ain't taught you t'speak right yet! Juuust playin', chummer. It's going good, good. Out runnin' my biz as it were. Got a Johnson lying in wait, you up for a job?>



@Nick
<@Nick[Rusty]Hoi chummer! How's it running?>

Spitz takes the beer and pulls a long draw before leaning in to answer, "Looking for Johnson".

How cliche... he thinks with a smile.. But isn't that part of the fun?

A spirit in the form of a shimmering, otherworldly cleaning lady finishes tidying up Gray's slightly too small apartment. One might call the place spotless, despite being in one of the crappier buildings in the neighborhood. In an all too human gesture, the spirit accidentally slams the front door as it leaves, awakening Gray with a start.

"It's too early for this racket. You just can't get good help these days."

Gray looks for the pillow to throw over his eyes, until he realizes it's not morning anymore. He was supposed to meet someone for lunch, wasn't he?

Not early... late! That makes three times this week! Nice going, Gray. Katie's going to kill you. This time for sure.

Gray jumps out of bed, and checks him comm. 16 messages. Willis, the big red tomcat plasters himself against his legs, making it hard to walk. Just as he's about to play the messages and face the music, the comm rings. It's not Katie.

<@Rusty [Gray] How may I be of service?>

And of course, the other line lights up... it IS Katie.

Oh, crap!

Sitting in the most important piece of furniture in his basement apartment, the Lazy Boy 4200 XE, Crank closes down the other nodes he was sifting thru ...Opportunity knocks. Time to pony up - the man's got work that needs to be done. Pay attention.

<@Rusty [Crank] Sorry chummer, old habits die hard. Yeah I'm looking for work, I'm all ears. Turns on lights and walks over to the nuke box and throws in a soy burger, Whatcha got for me? Have you worked with this "J" before?>

...pfft, old habits! Mei Yong Ma Duh Tse Gu Yong. She got the house, the car, she even got the dogs. What'd I get? Bastardized Chinese?! ...damn shame I didn't get to signing those papers before I went bankrupt..lol The look on her face...priceless.

Nick shrugs at himself and makes himself a ham sandwitch. <<@Rusty[Nick] Eh, you know, same ol same ol. How goes it with you?>>

@Spitz
Alan gives a little chuckle. Down the hallway. Third door on the right.

@Gray
<@Gray<Rusty>Well, I always wanted a big castle, lots of money, a pretty lady, an expesive car.. oh. Perhaps wrong direction there, eh? Hehe.. Alright chummer, I got some biz for you! Got a J, needs some more runners to get greased-I mean, do a job for him. Interested?>

@Crank
<@Gray<Rusty>Sorry, boy-o. Can't say that I've worked with him anymore. More and more Johnsons are coming around that I haven't dealt a whole lot with. I just do the recon work for 'em. This one wants to meet up at On the Rocks at 7pm.> The location is forwarded to Crank.

@Nick
<@Gray<Rusty>Workin, workin. As if there's much else we can do. Looking for a couple of kids to throw to the wolves. I figure, if I can survive then they might have a chance too. Got a Johnson that could use you in a team he's hiring. Ya got some time on your hands?>

The large red tabby leaps from the floor to perch upon Gray's shoulder with almost preternatural grace. The cat curls around his neck and appears to be trying to listen in on the comm. The incoming call indicator is still flashing on the other line.

Ah, this must be the Rusty guy that Weez sent my 'resume' to. It's good to have friends in low places

<@Rusty[Gray]I might have some time for biz, if the price is right. But, you don't sound too enthused about this venture's chances of success... I like it already. Where and when do I meet Mr. 'J'?>

Chop, chop, Rusty. Lady Fair is waitin' on the other line, but I need the dough, so I can't just hang up on ya... She's still calling, that's a good sign, right?

Gray taps his foot impatiently, hoping he can conclude business with Rusty, and get to Katie's call before she leaves another message, or just hangs up.

<@Rusty[Nick] Thrown to the wolves? Well...I suppose I could scrounge up some time. Though anything that starts with 'thrown to the wolves' comes at a price, but I suppose I should take that up with the Johnson.> He plops down on his couch and starts at his sandwitch. <@Rusty[Nick] So any word on what this run is like? I do so love spoilers!>

6:42 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Fredrick "Spitz" Smith [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Brad Roberts

Spitz turns towards the back, starting to pay for the drink in AR, before looking back to the bartender. "Johnson open a tab?"

<@Rusty [Crank] Oi, thanks mate. Geng Chi>...disconnects the call and pulls a bite of his soyburger. mmm...damn I hope they have real food there?

After checking the matrix for On The Rocks, Crank puts on some clean clothes - the sunday ones with no holes in'em - and heads out in his beat up Honda Spirit with his leather longcoat and trusty fedora. Confident his "permit" will hold up under scrutiny downtown he also packs his predator under his left arm in a concealable holster. After he circles the place once, checking for back doors, he parks the reliable ol' POS in the nearest garage and walks back to the joint.


6:50 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Crank [PAN(passive); LTG] Marcus Sheppard

Upon entering, Crank slides off his shades and buries them somewhere underneath his longcoat. He takes a slow look around to spot troublemakers and the exits, then heads over to the bartender. Nice place...and I can afford it for a change. "Hello brother, was hoping you could help me out? I'm looking for work and was to meet a guy for a job interview. Could you point me in the right direction?"

@Gray
<@Gray[Rusty]Johnson be waitin' for ya at On the Rocks at 7 sharp. From the sounds of it it's first come first serve so.. don't be late or ya can be flippin' soy burgers till the next job comes around.>

@Nick
<@Nick[Rusty]Sorry, slick. New Johnson here. Hasn't delved much into hiring from the Shadows from the looks of it. What I can tell ya is that lil bar in Seattle - On the Rocks- that's where he'll be at tonight. 7pm. He'll be the one with the nuyen so have fun.>

@Splitz
Aye. is all he has to say. Typical bartender. They learn to keep their ears and eyes open and their mouths shut. ..Most of the time.

@Crank

Alan, the bartender, looks up at you from the wet glass he was cleaning. He looks over you for a moment then replies, Boss-man got a name?

<@Rusty[Gray] Well, thanks for the tip, Rusty. I best get moving then. And, chummer... castles are overrated.>

Gray adds Rusty to the contact list on his comm, and flips over to the other line. Dead air. Willis drops to the floor and pads away to drink out of his water dish.. Gray quickly fumbles out a text to Katie, as he gets dressed in a new pair of black jeans and the black silk shirt Katie got him for his birthday.

<@Katie Bauer [Gray] Sorry, baby. Long night at work again... slept right through the alarm. I'll make up to you this weekend. I promise. Miss you - G >

At least that's not a lie. I DO miss you. Too bad I can't exactly tell you what I do for a living.

Gray does a quick check of the his bank account, and orders a dozen... whoa not much cash... make that one... real, red rose, and has it sent to Katie's office.

Sorry, Katie, but it's all I can afford until I score some nuyen.

After 10 minutes of trying, Gray manages to find the location of 'On the Rocks' with the GPS. He pulls on his leather biker boots, and dons a worn, armored long coat with the stylized head of a lion on the back. He grabs his healing fetish, and secures it with a leather thong to his left wrist. He puts out the last can of cat food, and puts fresh water in Willis' bowl. He grabs the keys to his beat up looking Yamaha Growler, and leaves for the meet. The streets of Touristville quickly recede behind him as he heads towards Downtown, with gray/white hair and ornamental tassles flowing in the cool breeze.


6:52 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Nathan "Gray" Reynolds [PAN (passive,0); LTG] Gary Stryker

Gray hurries into the establishment after first buying some cat food in a shop across the street. He gets the lay of the main room, and slowly approaches the bar, with his bag of cat food cans in hand. The bartender eyes up the bag. Gray holds it open for him to look inside.

"It's for my cat," he explains.

The bartender rolls his eyes, and wipes up something on the bar.

Gray smiles and says, "Evening, chummer. You wouldn't happen to serve Yuengling or Iron City, would ya?"

The bartender grunts, and produces a familiar green bottle of Yuengling Lager from the refrigeration unit. It looks a little dusty. He pops the top and places it on the bar, in front of Gray.

Gray takes a quick swig of his favorite beer, and savors the taste. Then he replies, "Man, that's good. Listen, would you happen to know where I might find a Mr... ah... Johnson?"

6:43 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Fredrick "Spitz" Smith [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Brad Roberts

Spitz smiles at the positive response from the barkeep, chugs down the last of his brew and says, "In that case, better draw me up two more of these my good man."

Two more beer in hand, he finds his way to the back room to meet the Johnson.

6:51 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Thomas "Crank" Muster [PAN(passive); LTG] Marcus Sheppard

Crank reaches out to the bowl in front of him and grabs a handfull of pretzels, Aye brother, that he has. He says his name is Johnson. He gives the bartender a quick wink and stuffs a pretzel in his mouth. As he listens to the directions back to the meeting room he switches his PAN into hidden mode and slides the shades back over his eyes. After buying a molson from the bartender he makes his way back to the meeting room.

<@Rusty[Nick]Sounds wiz. Say chummer, you got a gal?> Nick plops down on his overstuffed leather couch with his sandwitch. <@Rusty[Nick]Cause if you don't, a friend of mine knows a gal that likes big guys. She says the girls a real firecracker.> He laughs lightly. <@Rusty[Nick]You could think of it as a favor in return for all these jobs you've gotten/gonna get me.>

Nick jumps into a pair of nice jeans and a fancy looking t-shirt. He straps a holster in the small of his back and slips his tazer into it. Then he begins his regular bathroom ritual. Shaving, not too much girls like scruffy guys; doing his hair, messy but not too messy; and covering himself with the perfect amount of cologne, not too little to be lost in the crowd, but not too much to push the girls away. He covers the entire ensemble with a leather trench coat and slips his white noise generator into his pocket.

He smiles at himself one last time in the mirror and shoots his reflection with his finger. Nick should be known as the lady-killer.

Nick hops on to his cycle and heads to the bar...an hour early. He mixes and mingles and scopes out the joint all at the same time.

It was the small things he loved about running.

7:00 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle


Assuming you all made it to the room on time, Mr. Johnson waits patiently in his seat at the end of a long table. He wears a nice business suit and appears to be in his 30's. His dark brown hair is pulled back into a low pony tail and his face is cleanly shaven. For hiring into the shadows, he seems rather optimistic.

Gentlemen, good evening. My name is.. Mr. Johnson. Cutting straight to business; this is an infultration -snatch and grab- run. Any questions so far?

7:00 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle

Spitz was the first into the room. Despite the tall ceilings, he still had to duck to get into the room. Seems that most architects think that troll-sized mean eight foot, instead of closer to nine. Whatever.. I got my free beers and as long as this Johnson pays, I can deal with low ceilings..

He takes a seat and waits for someone to join him. As the other three begin to make their way into the room, he simply nods and continues to drink his beer.

When Johnson blurts out the basics of the run, he looks around at his newest 'teammates' before looking back. "Keep a talkin' boss-man."

7:00 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle

Gray hustles into the meeting room. He sees some new faces and a some familiar ones as well. Spitz, the troll, sitting in that uncomfotable small chair.. he'd worked him with before. And the guy that set up his pirate trid feed for watching all the Pittsburgh sports teams... Small world.

Gray quickly seats himself and waits for the pitch from Mr. Johnson. He polishes off his Yuengling, just as Johnson begins to speak.

Hustle rolls up to on the rocks bar on his harley wearing his off the rack suit, Hustle walks in to the bar. Rusty told Hustle about some work, Hustle figured since simon had nothing for him he would spend some time back in his roots. adjusting his tie because he isn't quite used to wearing tie's still, he walks to the bartender and ask's for the room under johnson. checking the rest of the bar for potential fellow runners for any job that the johnson might offer.

Nick watches from a distance as the others gather at the table. He quietly observes the group trying to figure out if they have weapons on them. Nick smiles at the girl he had been chatting up and tells her that he just saw some old friends he has to talk to. He turns to the bartender and orders a Vodka Cranberry.

As he walks up to the table he activates his white noise generator. Paranoia is a survival trait after all.

"Hey chummers." Nick says with a smirk on his face which soon disappears behind the sip from his glass. He takes a seat and sets his glass down as the Johnson introduces himself. "So you're basic snatch and grab, huh?" He simply nods. "Go on, I hope you won't mind if I interrupt as I find questions to ask."

"Foreign or domestic?"

Ta Ma Duh...I hope we don't have to cross the border.

While he waits for the Johnson's response he scans the room for nodes (commlinks) and sets permission for the other runners to access his. He then pings everyone and starts to set up the network that will allow the group to communicate with each other covertly.

7:00 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Fredrick "Spitz" Smith [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Brad Roberts

Ah, Gray is here. There's the mojo.... and Hustle - we have a brick ... don't know the pretty-boy. He must fancy himself the face. Spell slinger? Hacker? Too scrawny for much of anything else.... Two trolls, three humans.

Pursuing the current connection requests he finds one from Crank. He accepts the request. Must be the network guy.

7:00 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Nathan "Gray" Reynolds [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Gary Stryker

Gray notes an incoming connection request from Crank, they pirate trid guy. He accepts the request, allowing the connection to his comm.

I just hope Gremlins don't go wireless, chummer.

@Gray
You notice the request amazingly enough. Maybe you just got lucky..

@Spitz
Crank's armored vest sure is nice, but the tag line most assuredly had nothing to do with 'concealed carry'. On his persona is a nice little predator.

@Nick
Crank has a weapon, but it's kind of difficult to tell whether everyone else does or not. Trenchcoats or armored jackets tend to be the shadowrun trend. You, however, pretty well assume that the odds are in favor of everyone having at least some kind of weapon.

@All

Alright, gentlemen. Domestic it is. The corporation Securities is moving from small time to working it's way up into the big leagues. Apparently it's researchers have come out with a great new security beef that's going to rock the markets. I want you to go in and steal it.

7:01 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Fredrick "Spitz" Smith [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Brad Roberts

Spitz' first thought was to spew his mouthful of beer across the room. Lucky for him though, he'd become immune to dren being broadcast at him; The face on his last team used to inundate them with tales of his prowess and other nonsense. All these talky-talk types are the same. They open their mouth and it just starts flowing...

"You're a wantin' us to break inta not just a security company, but a security research company, and steal a revolutionary new security product? I can't wait to hear the budget on this one.. Please... continue..."

Nick takes a sip of his drink and sits back. "I agree with him." He points with his thumb at Spitz. "But hey," he shrugs his shouders "toss in some big bucks and you might grab my attention."

7:01PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Nathan "Gray" Reynolds [PAN(0,Passive); LTG] Gary Stryker

"Any idea if this security marvel is technological, biological, or magical?" Gray asks Mr. Johnson.

7:01 PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Thomas "Crank" Muster [PAN(hidden); LTG] Marcus Sheppard

What the hell...Why's everyone staring at me? Oh drek, I didn't spill mustard on my leather longcoat did I? This thing cost me a fortune. Crank shifts uneasily as he glances down toward the table.Hmmm, no spots, what a relief. Ok, so what gives? It's not like I wore my armor vest OVER my t-shirt or strapped my predator around my waist like some western gunslinger. He squeezes his left arm to his body ever so slightly to feel the mass underneath in its concealable holster.Nope, just where I left it. Dren, these guys are gonna give me a complex.

Turns his attention back to Johnson as he explains what we are being hired to do.

Oh, this is going to be cute. Wouldn't it just be easier to steal the researchers while we're at it? If I didn't know better I'd say they're trying to flush me out...I don't trust this guy

Hustle sitting at the table sits in a relaxes posture listening to the negotiations of the team knowing full well his roll will be very simple when it comes down to it.

I'll do what i do best.... hurt people or hurt people really bad. i wonder who the other troll is? i never seen him before, or have i? Hustle takes a mental note of the other troll's features trying to figure if he worked with him before or not.

7:02PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle

Mr. Johnson looks slightly unsettled. Granted, he figured it'd be simple. He had a job, he found the runners, they were supposed to be ever so thankful to take it and be gone. Clearing his throat he continues, "Uh.. Well, I think it might be all three." He says in response to Gray. "Nuyen is 4k; 500 up front. Everyone in?

7:02PM - On The Rocks, Downtown Seattle
Thomas "Crank" Muster [PAN(hidden); LTG] Marcus Sheppard

Hmpf...Like I can afford to turn a job down? I walk away from this and that's one less call I can count on. Maybe the faceman can pull more information out of him or get us more money up front? Let's see where this goes.

I'm still listenin', brother. Crank glances side to side to sense the group's reaction, then looks over the top of his glasses at the Johnson. The devil's in the details, you feel like sharin' some?

"Well," Nick starts as he lights a Marlboro-Camel Ultra-Light 1000. "How can something be all three?" He takes a puff of the cigarette and blows it out his nose slowly. "This sounds a little complicated." He doesn't bring up a demand for information since the others already seem to be quite keen on demanding it.

"I don't know about the rest of the team here, but I'm going to need more of an upfront to get things together." He takes another puff and then lets the cigarette hang between his pointer and middle fingers. "Moreover, it looks like we're going to have to do most of the legwork here. We're going to have to convince a lot of people to do some nice favors for us. So I think one-k up front and nine thousand when everyone's nice and satisfied the jobs done."