Zee read over Tasha's message, and smiled, even though nobody was around to witness it. She was very happy that her boring day spent "laying low" had paid off, just as Tasha had said it would. She gathered up her things, making sure her Slivergun was tucked neatly into one boot, while pocketing her monowhip in her jeans. She then hefted the bag and left, tossing the keycard across the counter at the dwarf who didn't even turn to look when she came out.

At her bike, she used one of the side mirrors to check her appearance, and then set off. It took her a while to find directions, online, to Mercer, but she made it there well within the hour, despite the unimpressive speed of her bike. She parked, outside, and entered quietly, taking her duffel-bag with her. Luckily, this was no nightclub, there was no one at the door to pat her down, or search through her things. She bypassed the counter, and took a seat at one of the tables, after looking around and not seeing Tasha yet. She did her best to position herself such that she could see both her bike and the sidewalk, outside, where she might spot Tasha approaching. She considered that she was probably a lot more excited about the job than she was - and a lot more eager to escape her current lodgings.

Her thoughts were broken by someone approaching her table. It was the man who was previously behind the counter. He asked if he could get her anything, but Tasha shook her head and declined. "I'm meeting someone here, soon." The man seemed to accept the excuse, and returned to his post. The few other patrons paid her little attention while she waited. One other person had entered, and quietly sat down - doing something or other in AR - and Zee noticed that, curiously, the man behind the counter did not go to their table to ask if he could get them anything. In fact, as she glanced over to check, he seemed to be looking in her direction while idly washing a cup. She smiled, and returned her gaze to the window, wondering if he was another enemy sent to 'test' her.

Tasha rides back to her place, where she prepares for the run. She has almost the same loadout that she took to the first job. The only additions are a single flash-bang, in case she needs a distraction or a quick getaway, and her medkit, which she really should have brought along the first time.

She normally wouldn't have so much gear going into a meet, but she wants to get right on the job. She has little hope for Peyton's well-being. The cynic in her, she supposes. If nothing else, maybe she can avenge him. As she pulls up to Soylent Sam's, ten minutes early or so, she parks next to Zee's bike, and spots her at one of the window seats. A couple of street kids are hanging around, but she's seen them before, and they have encountered her enough to know her "Look, but don't touch" rule about her bike.

She slides into the chair opposite from Zee.

"Zee. Glad you could make it."

Before she can give Zee any details about the job, the counterman approaches their table, asking if he can take their order. Tasha smiles at him, lightly touching his arm, as she orders a matcha blueberry bubble tea (she wouldn't touch the soycaf - that stuff has no business masquerading as coffee). Zee shakes her head in the negative.

The place is obnoxiously noisy, as usual. A suit loudly talking into his commlink, a working mom with baby in tow, a laughing group of teens dressed similarly to Tasha, and a tridscreen blaring out a ball game, where the Mariners are not only losing, but losing to the Portland Lords, just to pile on the humiliation. But that's why she likes this place. You can talk about a job in a soft voice with almost complete privacy. Well, not totally. The counterman seems to be watching them. He seems more interested in the view than in eavesdropping, though.

She lays out the details of the job for Zee, and her initial plan to hit both addresses, to see if they can turn up any clues.

"Now, your main goal will be to physically back me up, but if you have any ideas, don't hesitate to run them by me. I might be the experienced runner, but you probably know more about military stuff - tactics and electronics and things. I figured we could hit the Dinosaur Diner, then try his home address."

She sets her mostly-finished drink down, electronically sending her payment and a tip to the front counter.

"Any questions before we head out?"

"Do you have a picture of 'Peyton? " Zee seemed to be watching the counterman with obvious curiosity, but she had paid attention to Tasha when she laid out the situation. "It would help to be able to identify him, before taking action." She also lifted one end of her duffel-bag up above the table, with one hand. "... and should I bring my things with me, or leave them somewhere?"

After giving Tasha a moment to address those thoughts, Zee was satisfied, and ready to go. "Please let me know if I make any mistakes, tonight." Zee asked, as they stood from their table. "... not just about the job. About... anything." She pulled the large bag over her shoulder, and followed Tasha out of the door, casting one last glance back at the man behind the counter as they exited.

Outside, she looked at Tasha's bike, and stopped. "I don't think I will be able to keep up with you." She turned her gaze to her own vehicle. "The scooter is optimized for economy, not speed. I should purchase a new vehicle - but that doesn't help us, tonight." She seemed to be taking this minor logistical problem very seriously. "Go ahead, without me, I will get a ride as quickly as possible." The issue was rather unimportant, but Zee got the feeling that there would be a lot of travel between locations, tonight.

"I am not off to a very good start, am I?" Zee smiled back at Tasha.

Your conversation out on the sidewalk is briefly interrupted as you see the counterman come out of the cafe. He walks up to the two of you with a friendly smile on his face, but he seems a bit nervous.

"Um, hi ladies, my name is Bill. My roommate and I are having a party tonight at our house...210 Thomas Street, 8 o'clock. You're both invited to come if you want. Er, I hope you enjoyed your drinks, I gotta go back to the other customers now."

He turns around and heads back inside the store without waiting for your response.

When the man first approaches, Zee's hand begins to move towards the small of her back, but she casually holds it there while he says his piece. Her intention was to make her weapon within easy reach, should the stranger attack, but it had the unintentional effect of emphasizing her chest. The man seemed to notice the latter effect, distracting him from the former. Her analysis of the way he spoke and carried himself concluded that he wasn't any immediate danger. She stayed ready, however - if it wasn't enough that he seemed to recognize her, earlier, and kept his eye on her during the meet, it now seemed that his roommate knew about them, as well.

Then, no sooner than his offer was out there, he turned around and disappeared. Zee turned to Tasha, relaxing her arm. "Do you know Bill? I think he knows me."

"Do you have a picture of 'Peyton'? " asks Zee. "It would help to be able to identify him, before taking action.. and should I bring my things with me, or leave them somewhere?"

"I have some basic information from Biggs - yes, looks like a picture, here. ID photo, not very flattering, really. But it should let us recognize him. As far as your stuff, might want to leave it somewhere, at least for now. This first time is going to be mostly scouting." Tasha heads out the door as Zee follows her.

Zee seems upset about her dinky scooter, more than the situation warrants. Tasha gently pats her shoulder. "It's okay, Zee. You'll be able to afford a decent bike once your new career takes off. And it would probably be better for us to arrive at slightly different times, anyways."

She watches with some amusement as the counterman comes out to awkwardly invite them to a party. Which Tasha is always up for, but they will probably be too busy to go.

She gives a knowing smile at Zee's question. "Oh, I don't think he knows you... he'd just like to get to know you. And maybe you'd like to get to know him? I saw the way you were checking him out. Unfortunately, we'll probably be too busy with this job to make it. Don't worry, though. You got him hooked. Be plenty of other opportunities if you want to get to...know him."

The photograph of Adams depicts an Amerindian ork who looks to be in his mid forties, with a weathered face and a strong jaw. He has a brutal scar on the left side of his face, running diagonally from the bridge of his nose down to his lower jaw line. His eyes are a brilliant baby blue, and one can almost feel the intensity of his gaze even through the photo.

Zee nods, "Oh, so we weren't really invited - he just saw us, and wanted us to be there." That seemed to relieve her, somewhat, and she looked back at the bike. "Well, you should arrive as soon as possible. If I am going to be late anyway, in order to stash my stuff somewhere, I might as well take my own bike. Do you know of any nearby public lockers I could rent?" Zee was fairly certain such things existed - but was not sure where exactly to look.

"Yeah, there's a good spot I've used myself a few times. Rick's Lockboxes. Two blocks down (she points), then take a right - it's on that block. It's a plain brick building, no sign, with an army suplus store on one side of it, and Sudsy's Laundromat on the other side of it. You can rent lockers eight hours for 30 , with discounts for longer times. They are all thumbprint locks - your thumbprint unlocks the maglock on the locker. If you don't want to leave a thumbprint with them, you can get a keypad tumbler lock instead for an extra 10 . Some people get the thumbprint and the keypad, just to be extra sure."

Tasha hops on her bike.

"Anyways, I'll see you there in a bit. I'll get us a table, so look for me inside."

Zee nods and mounts her scooter. A few minutes later, she located the building - being able to "see" through the walls made doing so a little easier. She decided to opt for the keypad tumbler, not because she didn't want to leave her thumbprint with these people, but because she didn't have a thumb print to leave. The keypad didn't have nearly as many numbers as Zee would have liked - and the man behind the counter offered her the option to use both biometrics and a combination, again - but Zee made some comment about it not being worth the extra cash. I don't want to give them the impression that this bag is worth stealing. As she went to her assigned locker, she saw quite a number of people opted for the tumbler-lock option. She set her combination to something, at random, and recorded the key in her node. She then stashed the bag, and then left. Internally, an eight-hour counter began to count down.

Outside, she hoped on her scooter, and was determined to make up for lost time. She began constructing a map, in her head, using her MapSoft, indicating routes between her current location, the diner, and the man's home. She didn't see a lot of short-cuts, at least not ones that would have been accessible by Tasha on her bike. She wouldn't be able to catch up, but she resolved to minimize the time that Tasha was without backup.

Tasha:

You arrive at the Dinosaur Diner after a few minutes of navigating the busy city streets, with more than one close call along the way. It’s amazing how some people can be terrible drivers even with the GridGuide system…it doesn’t seem possible, but you know what Einstein said about the universe and human stupidity. There’s a large truck parked right outside the storefront, and when you move closer, a flaming red Tyrannosaurus Rex appears in the air, glaring fiercely at you, its nostrils flaring with menace.

“If you’re looking for the best grill in the city, you’ve come to the right place!� the dinosaur booms at you. “Welcome to the Dinosaur Diner. It’s eat or be eaten out here in the jungle, so you’d best be the one doing the eating!�

Contrary to what the giant dinosaur said, when you walk inside the building, it’s apparent that the Dinosaur Diner seems to be no more. The space is occupied by a renovation crew, working hard at taking out the old and bringing in the new. The restaurant has been almost completely cleared out, and the workers are busy installing new lighting, remodeling the walls, and tearing up the floorboards. A troll carrying a small cupboard shelf heads towards you, growling for you to get out of the way. You step aside to let him pass. After a moment, a portly human man with acid green hair and a large nose ring walks up to you, clipboard in hand.

“Can I help you, girly?" he asks. "You really shouldn’t be here. If you’re looking for a place to eat, the Dinosaur Diner just closed up shop, but if you’re really hungry, I suppose I can sell you my ham sandwich for 5 bucks.�

Zee:

When you pull up to the diner, you see Tasha already inside. She appears to be speaking with a rather rotund human male. You head on inside to join them, passing by a strange lizard-like creature who was apparently welcoming you to the restaurant. You've never seen an animal that was capable of speaking English before.

Tasha flexes her inhuman mental control to suppress all signs of her anger. Yep, looks like the suits got their slimy paws on the place. Now she needs to see if she can rescue Peyton - assuming that it's not a worst-case scenario where he willingly sold out; not everyone has a price, but most people do. Well, this drooling ape will be a start - everything that he knows, she will, by the time she's finished.

She turns on the charm, favoring him with a smile.

"Oh, so they've finally closed the old place down? About time. It was cute, in a kitschy way, but sooo last month. I was going to review the place, but wow, if I could get a sneak preview of the new place, my readers would love it!"

She starts piling it on thick, acting as if her review could give a big boost to the new place, saying she'll make sure to mention how helpful he's been to his bosses, and so one. She talks about her "Seattle Scene" column, something vague enough that she can keep him talking if this new venture is not a restaurant.

All the while, she is pumping him for information about the new place, who his bosses are, what made the seller decide to close his business, and every other bit of useful information that he knows.

Zee made her way up to Tasha and the man she was speaking with - quickly turning her attention from the scenery and activity around the reconstruction, and turning it towards Tasha. Why didn't she mention a column, before? Zee knew that the words conflicted with what she had been told, by Tasha, and understood that she might not be telling the truth - but the girl put on a convincing show, and Zee didn't want to speak until she had a better understanding of what was going on.

Instead, she started up a could of new programs, running them on her node, rather than pulling them into her own codebase, and sent an ARO link to the program's output, attached to a message to Tasha.

<< Backup, incoming....>>

Tasha:

You can feel the man's demeanor slowly change as you continue to speak, from being mildly annoyed at your presence to being almost completely entranced by your words. If there's one thing you're good at, it's drawing the personalities of others into the orbit of your own, and when you're at the top of your game, it's almost like you're casting a spell. The guy doesn't even seem to notice when Zee walks in. When he speaks again, he has a broad, goofy smile on his face, and an observant eye will discern that he just may be sucking in his gut a little.

"Yeah, I never really was a fan of the Dinosaur myself," he says. "I brought my family here once and that giant T-Rex outside had my kid crying before we even walked through the door. Anyway, they're turning this place into a digital haven...you know, commlinks, household drones, simsense movies, all that junk. I don't really know why the old owner nixed his business, but stuff like that happens every day in this city. Not every business can take the heat and edge out the competition to turn a profit, and when they fold, new ones move in to take their place, and life goes on. Hell, I ain't gonna complain about that, commercial turnover is what pays the bills for a working stiff like myself."

He shrugs. "I'm just responsible for the grunt labor, so I probably can't help you much with your column. You might want to talk to the guy who hired me though. His name is Thomas Osborn, works for Quicksilver Electronics."

He scribbles something down on his clipboard, tears off the page, and hands it to you. "Here, I wrote down his commcode."

The man pauses, and gives you a hopeful look. "If you want, I wouldn't mind if you mentioned me in your article about this place. My name is Sam Willson, that's Willson with two Ls. I'm the foreman of the Red Sun Construction and Deconstruction Company."

Tasha ignores the ARO link, completely focused on working her wiles on Sam. She makes a show of taking down the his information, even though she doubts she'll be able to get anything more from him. At least she has the next link in the chain. She introduces Zee to Sam as her "administrative assistant", probably confusing Zee a bit, and leaves a much more genial Sam behind when they leave.

As they walk out, Tasha speaks sotto voice to Zee:

"It looks like the suits managed to steal away the lease. I have a name on one of the suits: Thomas Osborn, works for Quicksilver Electronics. I think we should still hit Peyton's place first, but maybe while we're headed there, you could do a basic search on this Thomas Osborn, and the company? Give us an idea who we're dealing with, before we try to match wits with him."

Zee was a little dejected when the connection was refused, but Tasha didn't notice that any more than the commlink buzzing in her pocket. When she is introduced, as an "administrative assistant", Zee smiles and waves, but says nothing.

Outside, when given her new task, Zee says, "I'll see what I can come up with." Multitasking was something Zee could do well - and it would give her something interesting to do while crossing town on her scooter again. She hoped traffic held up, so that Tasha wouldn't get there too far ahead of her. If there was danger waiting for them, it would be at the house, not at the restaurant.

Zee:

The information you collect from crawling the Matrix come together to paint a fairly basic picture. Quicksilver Electronics appears to be a startup company that specializes in all sorts of technological gizmos and gadgets. In fact, it's less than a year old, but it appears to have grown at an unusually rapid and aggressive pace. So far, it's running three stores under its name in the greater Seattle metroplex, but you see no mention of a new store opening up at the location that you just left behind. You find the name Thomas Osborn on the company's staff list as their operations manager.

Tasha:

You eventually arrive at the address Biggs gave you to find an eight-family, brick and mortar apartment building on one of the nicer streets of Renton. The once posh neighborhood has fallen into a slump since the Second Crash, but there are still some silver spooners who remember the glory days of old, and are doing all they can to hold out against the spread of what they like to call the "Redmond Infection," usually right before spitting contemptuously on the ground. A gaggle of teenagers are loitering about listlessly on the other side of the street, but their collective attention slowly comes to focus on you as you park your bike in front of the building. The shared colors of their attire make it obvious that they're a street gang of some sort, and you've been around the block enough times to be able to tell the difference between the posers and the real deal, and the ones in this bunch are definitely posers. You've also been around the block enough times to know that sometimes the posers can be even more dangerous than the real gangs if you accidentally push the wrong buttons.

You try the door to find it locked. You're going to need a legitimate thumbprint to be able to get into this building...at least, if you want to get into it legitimately.

Zee passed along the information she gathered to Tasha's commcode, along with some links as references, while she struggled to catch up. For a while, she had managed to keep Tasha in sight, but at one particular traffic-light, Tasha blew through well after it was red, and Zee was far enough behind that this was not an option. Zee understood. Their primary objective was to rescue Peyton, and Tasha should be in a hurry to arrive and check on him.

Zee hadn't found anything particularly unusual, during her search, so she added a little commentary of her own.

<<For a small company, they seem to have a lot of resources, and if you're right about 'Peyton they're taking some big risks. I think that they are being backed by someone else, above Thomas Osborne. I did not find any information to indicate that they were a subsidiary company, however. I included the addresses of the two other stores, in case you think they are worth checking out - but everything will likely only point back to Thomas, until we can figure out why someone else would have an interest in setting up everyday electronic shops. The only person, on staff, likely to know what is going on, is Thomas, and I did not find any contact information for him, directly - not even the commcode you were given. The company's staff listing might have general contact information for the company, though.>>

Tasha notes the gang of posers - they can be dangerously belligerent if approached wrong, but she's made real gangers back down from her. She studies the door - she's here on what she can claim is semi-legitimate business, so she looks for an intercom or doorbell. Two avenues of entry not often considered by shadowrunners.

She has time to analyze Zee's message, too.

<<Good work, Zee.>> she comms back. <<We may not have too many details now, but with a name to go on, we should still be able to get somewhere with some more digging.>>

The intercom has eight buttons, each labeled by a letter and a number, running A-D, and 1-2. The address you have for Peyton lists his apartment as C2. You stare at the button on the intercom. Hey, maybe he's just been vegging out at home this whole time, and all your worries were for nothing. Hell, it's worth a shot. You press the button, and you're answered by half a minute of silence. Damn, why can't it be that easy, just this once. You try one of the other buttons...a few seconds later, a woman's voice comes out of the speaker.

"Who is it?"

You catch a sudden movement in your peripheral vision, and look up to see a small camera scrutinizing you unabashedly. You're gonna have to make this good.

Tasha schools her face into a dull, vacant expression as she looks up at the camera. She doesn't know how well Peyton know his neighbors, so she won't risk pretending to be a friend or lover. Instead, she will try to emulate a low-rent messenger girl.

"Hey, I'm looking for a, uh... (she makes a show of checking her commlink) Pee-ton Adams? Something like that? Anyhow, they need his thumbprint on this thingie, dunno why they gotta have it, but they said I gotta get it, gotta see the dude personally. So, you know where he is? Did he go out somewhere? They said they'd pay an extra thirty if I did the job in half an hour. I bust my ass getting here, and he's probably somewhere knockin' back a few brews. Bummer. You got any idea when he's gonna be back? I, like, rang the thing, and waited, and no one let me in."

The woman's voice comes back on the other side of the line. "Sorry honey, I have no idea where he is. Maybe you can try again later? If you want, you can give me your number and I can put a note on his door or something telling him to call you back."

"Awww, damn. Well, they don't like me giving out the commcode, so I guess I gotta try later. Thanks, though, lady."

Tasha doesn't drop her dumb messenger girl act until she is away from the camera, although inside, she is frustrated by the setback. Looks like breaking in will be the only way to find out anything, and it being an apartment will only complicate that. Hopefully Zee has some skills in that area - it's not her specialty at all.

She considers walking over to see if the gangers know anything. A lot of times, people on the street will notice unusual things in a neighborhood. But she'd better wait for Zee to arrive, for backup. She shouldn't be too long.

Tasha does not have to wait long before Zee can be spotted scooting down the street towards the apartment building. She passes at an impressive speed, for a scooter, and then slams on the breaks while whipping the thing around (and off the ground for a moment) to slide into place near Tasha's bike. Zee then steps off of the bike and glances towards the building.

"Did I miss anything?"

Tasha nods sourly.

"Peyton isn't home, or at least, he isn't answering the door buzzer, so we might have to come back to break in if we want whatever information we can get from his place. But for now, looks like we're going to have to deal with the local poser gang, over there. So follow me, and be ready to back me up if it turns violent. Try not to draw unless they do, though, and don't get spooked if they make a few threats to show how 'badass' they are."

With that, Tasha seems to get into another character (although this one is actually pretty close to the real her). Her eyes turn cold and hard, her face becomes a mix of cocky and sultry, and she walks with an arrogant, jandering gait as she slowly heads towards the gangers.

"Hoi, chummers. I'm tryin' to track down this deadbeat punk who owes money to my boss. You know anything about him, it could be worth your while..."

Zee stares blankly at Tasha's quickly offered advice, but nods at the end.

As Tasha's demeanor undergoes its transformation, Zee does her best to emulate her. Cold emotionless eyes, and hard features, come easily - but her expression doesn't quite match the expert facade that Tasha puts forth. She walks, a few steps behind Tasha, emulating her gait, and coming to stop beside her as she speaks. Her attention was drawn, for a moment, to the electric car beside some of the gangers, but returns to them as their attention is drawn to Tasha.

The gangers size the two of you up with an expression that’s half cocky amusement and half mild curiosity. A moment of silence hangs in the air after Tasha speaks, but eventually, one of them steps forward, a wiry human teenager with long, oily black hair and eyes of brilliant gold.

“What’s his name, old lady?�

“…Peyton Adams?� He shrugs. “Sorry, ain’t never heard of him.�

One of the other gangers pipes up, a short ork kid sporting a razor sharp mohawk. “Hey, I know that guy. He lives in my building. A real bastard, he is. Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve seen him around for the past couple of days. Maybe he decided to skip out on his debt to your boss.�

Another one of them turns to Zee, a girl with neon pink hair and a face full of piercings. She blows a bubble that’s the same color as her hair and pops it.

“Hey lady, why you drive around in that piece of shit?�

Zee followed the girl's gaze over to her bike, connecting the dots - only then realizing that the girl was not, in fact, referring to an actual piece of excrement. The confusion wore off quickly, and she turned back to face her. Part of her decision making processes suggested allowing Tasha to do the talking - but Tasha could not know the answer to this personal question, and seemed focused on talking to the boys about Peyton. Ignoring the girl was as likely to cause trouble than responding, so Zee answered, with a question of her own.

"Why do you ride around in your electric car?" She asked, calmly, nodding towards the Honda Spirit in the same way that she had seen Tasha gesture towards Peyton's building. Zee wasn't sure if the pink-haired girl actually owned the vehicle, or if one of her friends did - but they seemed to be leaning on it, loitering around it, and generally giving the impression that was theirs.

As she spoke, Zee scanned the area with her radar, and sent a message to Tasha including a summary of the cyberware and knives detected, including ARO information to overlay the locations of these items, in case she had an active AR image-link. Zee could do all of this, without seeming to do anything other than speaking to the girl, but was not sure Tasha would be able to receive the transmission as inconspicuously. She remembered Tasha had said something about Zee knowing about electronics and tactics, and resolved to set up some sort of communication path between them, after this encounter was finished.

"What? This pile of junk?" The girl scoffs. "What do I look like, a soccer mom?"

"My ride is a Thundercloud Contrail," she says proudly. "Speed tweaked engine, hovercraft capability, improved suspension, ruthenium paint job...everything you can think of to make a bike better, I've done it. It's the sweetest pair of wheels on this side of town. Tell her, Mojo."

She elbows the boy next to her, who rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah, the sweetest pair of wheels on this side of town. Shit, Anna, if that bike had a dick, I would be in for some stiff competition."

"Competition?" The girl laughs. "Baby, I would dump your ass without even thinking about it."

She takes the gum out of her mouth and sticks it on the windshield of the Honda Spirit.

"Anyway, if you ever wanna 'borg up that pile of dung you're cruising around on, I'm the girl you wanna talk to. Crap will always be crap, but I can make it serviceable, at least."

Zee seemed interested. "... and if I wanted to replace the bike, with something else, entirely - would you still be the person to talk to?"

The girl ponders the question for a moment. "Depending on what you want, I might be able to get you hooked up. Nothing stock though, any ride that I touch is gonna undergo serious augmentation. It's gonna cost you, but I can guarantee that you'd be ecstatic with the results."

Zee nods, quickly becoming friendly with the pink-haired girl, with surprising ease. "I prefer unique machines, myself." She smiled, "I've installed a few off-the-shelf parts on that scooter, over there. It might look ordinary, but it serves its purpose well enough - but I think my needs have surpassed what it is capable of."

She shrugged, "I've been thinking about upgrading to a racing bike - to keep up with her" Zee juts a thumb towards Tasha, "but I would need one that could be heavily optimized towards some 'unique' requirements. If you're up to the challenge, I could send you a list of specifications, and you could quote me a price..."

Zee wasn't entirely sure how much these things went for, but based on what it cost her to get her Dodge Scoot, and the fact that a lot of the modifications could be re-used, she thought she might have enough cred on her, right now.

The girl shakes her head. "Sorry lady, I don't do 'specifications.' You don't get a good whip by slapping on a list of parts. You gotta talk to it, listen to it, and if it likes you, it'll tell you what it wants. Every whip is unique and has its own style, just like people do. You want me to set you up with something, you're gonna have to trust me to deck it out the way it wants to be decked out."

She takes out another stick of gum and pops it in her mouth.

Zee shrugged, quickly losing interest in the girl, as soon as it became apparent that she wouldn't be able to help her get what she wanted. "If you are unable to do it, that's fine. I've identified what my needs are, and if you cannot find me a bike that suits them, I'm not interested." Zee wasn't sure if what Anna was asking for was out of the ordinary or not. She had a hard time imagining that people often handed tens of thousands of dollars to total strangers in exchange for an effectively random selection of vehicle parts. The modification she selected for her scooter cost well more than the base vehicle - she calculated that, by doing business this way, she would end up paying at least twice what she intended (once to get a good bike, and twice to modify it into what she wanted). She could not afford that.

"Where is your bike, anyway?" Zee looked up and down the street. "Wouldn't you rather be seen standing around next to that, then this pile of junk?" Zee motioned towards the Spirit, that the group of teenagers were still gathered around - despite the claims that one of them had 'the sweetest pair of wheels on this side of town'.

The girl grins. "Cougar only comes out of the garage when there's a street race going down. Leaving him out on the street would just make all the other cars jealous."

Her boyfriend groans, putting his face in his palm and shaking his head. "Him she says...she calls it a him."

Zee nods, looking over to check on Tasha's progress. Then she comments, offhandedly, "I like you, Anna. It sounds like you really connect with your machines." She smiles, and looks back. "If you find any extra bikes in your garage, send me their bios, and a picture. If it turns out that we're 'compatible', I might be interested, again." She then beams the girl her disposable commcode.

Tasha grins, sharklike, at the ork kid's comment.

"Well, he won't get too far, wherever he tries to run. Thanks."

She lets the interaction between Zee and Anna play out. Truth be told, Zee does need a better set of wheels, and whatever she wants, she'll likely need to get it at street level. She'll step in if Zee missteps, but so far, looks like she's doing just fine.

Not much progress finding Peyton, either. It's nice to get confirmation that he's been missing a few days, though. More and more, it's looking like foul play.

Seeing that Tasha seemed to be waiting for her, Zee pulled herself from the pink-haired girl, and rejoined Tasha's side. She had not been paying as much attention to their conversation as she probably should have, but it seemed to be pretty quiet. Pointing at the short orc with the Mohawk, she says, "You live here. That means you can let us inside." The statement was more of a fact, than a request - but Zee seemed to be looking at the child, expectantly.

The kid shrugs. "Yeah, I suppose I could. But why would you want to go inside, when the guy you're looking for isn't home?"

Zee looks curiously at the child, "We don't know that. We only know that he isn't answering the buzzer." She looked at Tasha to see if she understood where Zee was going with this - but didn't expect that she would. Even if the kid got them past the front door, Peyton's apartment would surely be locked. "Maybe his intercom is broken." She looked back at the kid with the cold hard eyes that Tasha was still wearing. "If you let us inside, we will be able to find out what we need to know." Again, there was no request, but there seemed to be some expectation in her face. Zee wasn't entirely sure if there was going to be some negotiation, here, or if they would have to lean on the guy to get him to help them - but she understood, perfectly, that they needed to get past that door, and that the key to doing so was right in front of them.

Tasha isn't sure what Zee is doing, but assumes that if she's trying to get them past the front door, she must have tools or a plan to get them into the apartment. Good enough for her. Time to support her teammate, now.

"Like I said - we can make it worth your while."

She leaves the offer open-ended and hanging, curious to see if the young ork will ask for cred, or be smart enough to barter for some kind of reciprocal favor, or even leave them owing him. The gangers don't seem overtly threatening, at least, but she doesn't relax. She does nothing overtly menacing, not wanting to unintentionally escalate anything, but she still projects a calm assurance. That's the whole key to the "I'm so badass, sometimes I scare myself" look - you gotta underplay it.

The young ork scratches his head, obviously unsure of what to do. The kid with black hair nudges him and signals to the gang, and they move off to confer in a huddle. After a few moments, the ork returns to you with an offer.

"Okay, I'll let you inside, but only if you can hook us up with a gun. And I mean a large gun, not one of those pussy pea shooters."

He pauses, and grins. "And if you break into the dude's apartment, you gotta trash the place. That'll teach the bastard for telling my mom that I was the one who slashed Mr. Peterson's tires."

"Dunno about trashing the place - the boss might not want that. But it's definitely possible that we'll be knockin' over a few things, to teach the punk a lesson."

Tasha shrugs, nonchalantly, before suddenly becoming more serious.

"Now, the big thing, the gun, that, I can get for you. But a gun is serious biz. It's not a toy. I'll get you a gun, but either you show me you know the basics, or you let me show them to you. I'm not budging on that! I'm not gonna give a gun to someone who doesn't know how to take care of it. So, you got an idea what you want, or do you want me to be like Anna, and surprise you?"

The kid's eyes bulge at your words, and he stares at you, slack-jawed. The rest of his crew seems equally astonished.

"Holy shit, you wanna teach us how to shoot? Damn, that would be just edge. I dunno, how 'bout like a sniper rifle or something? I'm really good with the sniper rifle in Blaster Master 3: Attack of the Trogs."

Tasha shakes her head, half amused and half exasperated (although she lets none of the amusement, and only a little bit of the exasperation, show).

"I'm gonna show you the basics - how to use it, how to clean it. Learning how to shoot - that's gonna take you practice. Lots and lots of it. And forget a sniper rifle - you're not gonna get a gun worth thousands, for openin' a fricking door! I was asking you what kind of pistol you wanted. Something you can actually carry around with you, something you can keep hidden when you aren't using it. And don't sneer - it won't be some cruddy little holdout - it'll still be a real gun. Pistols are what I use, and you can damn well bet they get the job done."

It was Zee's turn to be confused by the tactics employed by her partner. She was having a hard time telling which parts were lies, and which parts were truths, but was a little surprised that Tasha was so willing to spend upwards of $500 to open a door. Still, the kids had become quite agreeable, all of a sudden, so perhaps the plan was working. Zee was not sure that giving a handgun to a bunch of teenagers - teenagers who were almost certain to get themselves into trouble with it - was really the best plan, but Tasha seemed to know what she was doing.

She eyed the situation wearily, watching how it unfolded. Zee suspected that, whatever they agreed upon, Tasha would need some time to get it - time Peyton did not, necessarily, have. She intended to insist that the boy open the door, first, and that the gun would be delivered, later - but was not sure that would be acceptable by the young gangster, who seemed eager to get his hands on a weapon that he had no idea how to use.

The kid nods, and he appears to be doing all he could to stop himself from jumping out of his skin with sheer excitement. It was clear that he didn't expect Tasha to agree to the bargain at all.

"Okay, we got a deal. Come with me."

He leads the two of you to the apartment entrance and presses his thumb to the print scanner. You hear a barely audible click as the lock disengages and the door eases open.

"Don't forget our deal!" the kid says.

You leave the street outside and make your way up two flights of stairs to reach Peyton's apartment. One of you tries the knob to find it unlocked. Your gut tells you that something is wrong, and when you open the door, the scene inside confirms your instinct. The place is a mess, with upturned furniture all over the place and household items of all kinds scattered across the floor. The trid unit is toppled over and there's an axe lodged halfway inside one of the walls. You see a trail of dried blood on the floor leading up a closet on the far end of room. The closet door is closed.

Once inside, and able to identify which apartment belongs to Peyton, Zee sees the mess before they even reach the door. She reaches into her boot, and draws her pistol, before trying the door. To her surprise, it opens. She doesn't sense anyone immediately nearby, but steps into the room, pistol first, before motioning for Tasha to follow behind her. If there was anyone still here, Zee wanted to be the first thing they encounter. As they made their way towards the closet, she kept her "eyes" open for movement, through the walls - focusing her attention on whatever might be in that closet before opening it.

Zee points to the closet. "Apartment, clear." She didn't seem to have even glanced in the direction of some of the smaller rooms, but looked fairly confident about her situation awareness. "Wounded metahuman in the closet." She then reaches out to open the door - gun still ready, in her other hand.