The windows dribbled with water as a car past by as each one angled for a better position. "Please put away the weapon. I am not threatening anyone, I have lived long enough that death has become an old friend for me. Mr Dayton how would you like to get back into the Bureau? To our Professor, I can also get in contact with an acquaintance of mine who can get in contact with a mutual nemesis of ours. What I need is a bit of reciprocity and for that to happen I need your assistance with a job first. Reciprocity."

Perception test :


Professor

Snapping his head to Mr. Johnson's words. "As a mater of fact I would love too, but I'm currently working to overcome a shortcoming. I'm in for the job; I've got nothing else to do with my time." You can hear the wave of excitement and then the solace in his voice.

Well here is a chance I didn't expect to see.

"Every way I have to determine intent suggests to me that Mr. Johnson here is being sincere and presents no danger to us. I for one am very interested in what he just offered, and..." looking at the young woman, " ...am charged up for hearing what he has in mind. How about you, miss?" *sheepish grin*

GM:


EDIT: GM:

Well, as he could have sent me on his mission without asking me I am willing to at least hear him out.

Doc


He has yet to offer me anything in return for service. He probably knows that if he could prove he is who he says he is I would work willingly for nothing.

"Phew."

"You have my attention, Mr. Aegis. Whether or not you have my service depends on what you have to tell me about the job. Details about the individual, his suspected activities, potential dangers posed by the individual, and, of course, the budget you have available for this task would be a good place to start." Dick smiles at the bookshop owner now that the situation has defused slightly.

The bookshop owner nods. "His name is Dr. Robert Karkoff. He is a former official in the World Health Organization. Your mission would be to conduct surveillance and install surveillance devices in his apartment without his knowledge. Three other doctors have been killed by fire in the past week. We strongly believe that he will be targeted next. We also want you to detain or eliminate the assassin. There is also member who has been previously recruited who is currently keeping an eye on Dr. Karkoff.

The bookshop owner sighs and runs his fingers through his hair "The names of the other three killed are Edward Turner, Charles Parnell, and David Miller. Dr. Karkoff was born in 1989 in the Soviet Union and was brought to the then United States through an adoption agency. I would recommend that you also conduct an independent investigation on the three murders. Unfortunately my regular channels are now circumspect, but I have set up a hidden node which will contain further details at the Korean War Veteran's Memorial. You can access it by touching the engraving of the number of those missing. You will also find that there will be an authorized transaction waiting which should cover personal and operational costs. If you wish to contact me leave a white rose by the during the day and I will arrange for a meeting there at 11PM."

"let me get this right, we are to place surveillance on one Dr. Robert Karkoff. Apprehend or eliminate the threat on his life. Plus investigate the other murders of Edward Turner, Charles Parneel, and David Miller. How much are we talking about in this Personal and Operational account plus how long of a time frame are we looking at?"

"Will we be working with the previously recruited member, or should we take steps to ensure that this individual is unaware of our interest?" Dick thinks for a moment, then adds. "And how long do you want the surveillance to continue?"

"I must remember to ask if the other three doctors were also employees of the WHO. And how is Dr. Karkoff employed currently?"

The bookshop owner titled by the team Mr Aegis moved to stand next to Warrior. He was small and spry, being at least a head shorter than Warrior making him about 5'1".

"I am not recommending reopening the investigation on the other three doctors. I am simply recommending that you do a more indepth background check as that gives you an indicator on the modus operendi of the assassin. It may also give indicators to his or her physical appearance as well. The individual currently conducting surveillance will be working as a part of your team. We suspect that the assassin will be conducting the operation within the next four days. If nothing happens in a week, your contract ends. The operational account has 60,000 nuyen."

My current skills package may not be completely optimal for this mission profile. Can I rely on you to supply more appropriate code should it be necessary?

"Don't forget you won't be working alone on this. We've been chosen because our skills cover a number of facets necessary to complete this task," Dick cuts in.

"Actually, all that information will be in the data stored for us at the Memorial. No need to ask here."

" I will assume details about where people work or worked will be in the data you have for us. I'm not quite clear where we would leave a white rose if we were to need to contact you.

"Is Dr. Karkoff aware of the danger he may be in, and do you wish Dr. Karkoff to be aware of our protection?

"60,000 ¥, minus expenses, for 6 team members is ... interesting. Is there any indication that the assassin may not be working alone. This could affect our estimation of whether the stated operational account will be sufficient."

"God, I hope someone else here is better at this sort of thing than I am. Give me a research proposal any day, but this face-to-face negotiation? *shudder* Several thousand ¥ right now would go a LONG way."

"I'll be honest. 60k minus expenses for 6 of us seems awfully low for dealing with an assassin. I'm assuming that the surveillance devices you want us to install will be provided by AEGIS?"

Dick leans forward and smiles. "Listen, I understand this is just a test, but it still puts us at a fair amount of risk and takes us away from our normal lives. How does 120k sound?"

November, 18th 2069: The Third Place Bookshop 20:57


The time seems to tick ever continuously forward as he stops to think. "Fine. You will be paid a further 60k on completion of the mission. All devices, bugs, or further equipment is under your purview to acquire. You are after all "deniable assets" and there is no lack of places in this world of corporate espionage to find the equipment you need."

"The Korean War memorial is framed by a round reflection pool, around the pool are inscriptions, one which will say 'missing U.S.A 7621, U.N. 460,212'. I hope that clears up the situation."

He coughs, "Now excuse me while we go back to the matter at hand."

There is a moment and the whole room is bathed in light as if a hundred light bulbs suddenly flashed.

Tyrell looks up, "I'm sorry, I seemed to have missed your question. Perhaps if you could repeat it I could."

Mr. Aegis cannot be seen in the bookshop anymore.

***

November, 18th 2069: The Third Place Bookshop 21:02

A woman collapses, one of the new age hippies, who may have once been beautiful but her hair is disheveled as she shakes her head. "They were here. I could hear them, buzzing and droning." She looks wild-eyed picking out Warrior. "He was there! I saw him! In his suit as they did their experiments on me."

The rest gather round as the woman's nerves are calmed down. She still looks at Warrior suspiciously. as she drinks a bit of water from a proffered porcelain cup.

"Well we are still here for the book signing. I guess there is something in the air tonight." Izzie says trying to put some kind of happy spin on what looks more and more like a disastrous evening. "Well the bookshop owner has allowed for a grab-bag of books, so once you collect your copy of Mr. Tyrell's autographed book, AEGIS: the history of this most secretive organization, feel free to collect a copy."

People once hushed start talking again, it is a nervous chatter as they shuffle past Tyrell his fountain pen scraping across the bleached, pulped matter of a dead amazonian forest.

Each of the team members gets a book: Warrior a book called Fleet Marine Force Reference Publication (FMFRP) 12-80, its yellowed jacket pockmarked with liver stains. The Professor the book Maya Hieroglyphic Codices, which someone has unhelpfully scrawled in the inside with comments and underlinings. Cruise a folio edition of Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There with its gilt cover and well thumbed pages. Dick a copy of Motorcycle Diaries. Blackie the well worn paperback of Hell's Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs.

"Well, looks like any more answers we want will come at the Memorial."

Professor walks slowly towards the exit, catching the eye of his new found fellows, and casually opens his gift book.

"I wonder... yes, printing 4A, with the latest errata. I see by these damn scribbles yet another self-proclaimed 'expert' has his own opinions."

"Well that should make things easier and this will be a much better read."

"How about we all go get some coffee so we can talk shop? Some place we can do so in some thing close to privacy."

"Well, this was a very enlightening experience, Mr. Tyrell. Thank you." Dick smiles at Tyrell before addressing the others. "Now, however, I find myself famished. I know of this lovely little cafe nearby that serves absolutely incredible pies. I believe I will head that way now. Feel free to join me, if you care, for a discussion on what we learned tonight."

Blackie was for a moment wild-eyed and frantic. The world had returned to the facade of normalcy, but his heart was still racing.

Blackie's privacy was something he appreciated, coveted even, and his new employer didn't seem to respect that. He had no idea what they knew about him. His abilities? They must have been what had him selected for the operation. But if they knew his skills, did they know his background? Where he had been the past few years. Travelling under different identities, on the move. Was he lulled into a false sense of security, while his eye cameras scanned below in the shadows, there had been another camera, Aegis, always looking down. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

He looked inside the Aegis book cover. His heart missed a beat. Hunter S. Thompson, gonzo journalist. He looked up at the bookshop, tense and awkward, and couldn't stand it. He was heading out for a smoke.

Before he reached the door, he flashed his invitation towards Izzie, "excuse me. What process selected those to be invited? Also, did you happen to know one Meta Vaskiadis? He was a friend of mine, and this was the sort of place he might have liked."

]Izzie's brow furrowed as if in deep concentration. "Why sending out invitations would be an excellent idea. We just let people know about the book signing through the Matrix. Meta Vaskiadis? No, no can't say that I have."

People were leaving slowly with Tyrell himself one of the first one's through the door with Blackie. He hedl his umbrella open while Blackie looked for his lighter. "I heard book signings were strange but this one was downright weird. I am still trying to sort out mass induced hysteria from supposed perceptions. Oh well. Good night to you." He nods at Blackie and walks down the street oxford twill of his overcoat blending well with the darkness. He walks up two blocks of the winding street and then turns to the right. A black car drives slowly along its windows tinted as it ambles up towards the bookshop speeding off down the same road Tyrell was walking along.

...


A short drive later iin a very different kind of car made the whole episode of the Third Place Bookshop seemed like a strange dream. The safety of soykaf, pies that while tasting really good had that indelible taste of plasticity. The ergonomically comforting chairs with the selection of colors chosen not for their pleasingness but for their supposed impact on the human psyche.

The place was between crowds, students were either studying or preparing for their parties. The older crowd was a mixture of disappointed office workers, small-time lobbyists, and government contractors each with their cheap suits and thick plastic AR glasses. Some sitting alone others in groups, each transfixed in a world beyond the real. The gesticulation and muttering of them all could be considered the imagery of insanity if not that surrounding each was a large swath of AR, the Matrix, and somewhere beyond safely locked doors the realms of shadows.

The Betty Page lookalike with her plastic kiroshi cybereyes of violet and her chromed nailpolished fingers served the table where your group were sitting, her mind shifted from television static to dead air as she filled your orders with droning precision. Her AR persona showed her to religion to be Nihilism and her contact details spelled out her sexual preferences and experiences in garish detail.

Dick was right. The pie was incredible.

[OOC - I suspect having shared soycaf and 'incredible' pie, we know each other's street names now. Though .... it would appear Professor is becoming Doc. I'm waiting for the Dick Doc jokes. ]

"You're right, Dick, I can't believe that pie! And the last time a woman showed me AR that explicit, she wanted a grade she didn't deserve. So is there anything we need to discuss before we get the details of the task at hand at the aforementioned location?"

Division of labour and skillsets. My current skillset is close to ideal for the bugging mission. I could possibly use a Fast-talk 'soft to round things out. I have appropriate gear and cover ID. I could use a number of video and audio bugs but they can be easily acquired.

As she talks she gently caresses the soft red cloth binding of the book she was given, it is clutched tightly to her chest, it's worn gilt glinting in the light of the diner.

When she mentions her ID, for a few brief seconds, her jumpsuit changes colour and a number of Neonet logos appear on it and on the breast a chirpy message announcing Cruze as 'Jane your Neo-network Engineer.'

You would be amazed at the number of places that gets you access to and the bizarre behaviour it makes appear completely normal. Claim you've had reports of an AI in nearby nodes and you can get away with murder.

That said she peered around Doc's shoulder at the retreating waitress.

Nice ass. I could use blowing off some steam tonight...


What with the nature of her 'employment' relationships were impossible so Cruze liked to collect 'Magic Moments' flicking her data filter off and on again so that she only ever remembered the good bits. Their waitress seemed like a perfect candidate for some no strings entertainment.

[OOC: Uups. Clicked on the wrong button and ended up making an additional post. Wanted to do some minor tweaks to the post and not have it as a reply. Carry on.]

Dick had positioned himself so that his back was to the rest of the cafe and sits back, enjoying a soycaf and a blueberry pie. He takes a moment to fiddle in his bag before speaking up."As Cruze said, we should get an idea of what everyone does so that we have some idea of how we stack up against the mission."

He grins at Cruze as she explains the ID. "Clever idea, that. I'll have to remember it. I personally prefer my own..." Here, his ID shifts to identify him as Markus Shindler of Jiffy Klean Janitorial Services as his features begin to subtly shift. His ears round out completely, his skin darkens a couple shades, and his eyes turn brown for a moment before everything shifts back to his previous appearance.

"As you can probably tell, my specialization is fitting in. Mimicry, if you will. Give me a crowd to fit into or a person to replace, and I can do the job. Shadowing the Target's going to be my role in this endeavor, most likely."

Sitting in a position to view as much of the coffeshop Warrior gets confortable in the ergonomic chair while listening to Cruze and Dick then chimes in. Well as I'm sure that you all haven't figured out by now I'm you Samurai type but I'm rounded enough to help around too.

I hope the coffee is good here...

Professor mulls over what has been said, and adds his own self-assessment.

"I bring to the table a broad education in social and natural sciences and languages. I am very good at collecting data, whether it's buried in the ground, hiding on the astral plane or languishing in a library. I notice things. Whatever I experience, I remember. I have a knack for finding patterns and meaning in the most confusing rush of information. I pick up languages almost without effort now. I have some ability to fit in with exurban societies and am comfortable in the outdoors. I am physically more fit and resilient than most of my academic colleagues. Former colleagues. *wry grin*

"Having recently entered ... this new line of business ... I have begun to magically enhance my physical capabilities. In conflict I am capable of a support role, and am glad there are others here for whom that is a primary focus. I can patch up injured people. In an effort to be flexible according to the needs of the situation, I am able to sustain a magic spell cast on me. Fortunately, my training in concentration allows me to overcome even quite severe distractions."

"Unfortunately, unless I missed something," Professor opens up his mind to the astral to be sure, and what-the-heck, to check the crowd. "I don't think anyone present can cast spells. Hmph. 'Best laid plans of mice and men', indeed."

Blackie observes the black car, his cybereyes solemnly recording the depressing moment. There's no screeching of tires, no sudden burst of acceleration, it's like a black cloud drifting across the intersection with a dark portent. He takes a long drag, and waits for the anonomizer to put him through to his old friend. There is a japanese baby wrapped in a slightly oversized kimono perched cross-legged on the pavement at his feet, with a katana laid carfully beside, stubby hands wrapped around a ball of light.

"Diagoru", Blackie extends the greeting with his thought voice, "I'm in trouble."
The baby rolls his eyes in a gesture too brutally sarcastic for a child.
"Don't give me that.", Blackie protests, "I didn't go looking for trouble. I was following a flimsy lead on DeeCee Veritas' death, and they found me. I don't want to talk about it on this line, but it's some serious drek. I've got feeds I need you to take a look at in offline storage, and I need to back them up on your servers, but I need your help keeping the transfer secure. You've been waiting for something this juicy for a long time."
As he finishes the thought, Blackie watches the Shadowrunners file out of the bookstore, making trails to the coffee shop, "Look, I've got to go exercise my consummate social skills.", before bidding the child farewell, he notes with a definite tone of disgust, "I'm working in a team. I better hear from you soon.

Moments later, Blackie's firewall is working dilligently against the flood of garbled matrix traffick and the garish liminal advertising, as well as the more insidious subliminal ones. He doesn't take his gloves off, and his hands work continuously, folding and straightening out his napkin. A tiny pool of black soykaf black soykaf lines his empty cup, and he runs his tongue across the filmy residue left in his mouth as he stares down his new team-mates, listening intently.

"Sports journalism," he spits with contempt, as he tries to tune out an obnoxiously upbeat game commentary in the background, "Bottom-feeder scum."
Realizing he's being stared at, Blackie clumsily commences his spiel.
"I specialise in B&E, surveillance and information warfare. Information is power, right? We sure as ghost learned today. I know if there was a war, and there is, mind, I know I'd want all the ammunition I could get. You could say I've got a shadow-doctorate in photojournalism from the school of hard knocks." Blackie stumbles clumsily over his feeble attempt at humour, failing not so much in concept, but in delivery, "heh... ah."

The woman circles around the tables and professionally fills the soykaf cups. For those who do look and keep an eye out, the rest of the crowd ignores the group. Either caught up in their own world or then in the fanciful relationships that circle themselves with, whether virtual or real.

Professor

Dick waits for the waitress to leave again before turning to Blackie. "Information warfare? Does that include matrix activities on both sides of the legality question? Feel free to speak plainly. Nobody will be able to hear us."

"As I thought, it's just Dick and I who have Magic, and we are both adepts. Better see if I can get some outside casting done. I'll message Zoltan, see if he can help."

"Hoi, Zoltan. When you were hooking me up with equipment, you mentioned it might be possible to have spells cast on me, for a fee. I could use a connection like that in the near future. Something like Improved Invisibility would be good for my current needs, or failing that, Increased Reflexes, maybe. You know the score. Can you give me a contact, maybe a reasonable price range? I can sustain a Force 6 spell. If I can afford it, I would consider paying the magician for pushing the spell to be more effective than the Force would normally allow. Thanks for any help you can provide. Professor."

Right. Speak plainly. No bullshit, just truth.
"Yes. I had been decking for a few years even before the crash. I have a practiced proficiency in the use and understanding of a range of programs across the spectrum of legality, and I have headware to enhance my abilities, in particular a math sub-processing unit and an older yet still high quality encephalon.", He taps his temple twice with a gloved finger to emphasize, " To be honest, illegal uses are my speciality, although I admit neither my hardware or software at my disposal in DeeCee are worthy of a military system or corporate core, I think they'll be sufficient. I'll explain this opinion."

The waitresses appearance shakes his confidence, and he loses the thought for a moment, taking a tentative sip and the scalding kaf. He double checks to see if he still has anyone's attention and continues, "Basically, I'm making an estimation that a block of apartments will have a fairly standard network, with levels of personal network security the perogative of the individual apartment inhabitants. With some planning and maybe some legwork, I'm cautiously confident I could crack it." he says, though he doesn't sound. "I'll add that I have loyal matrix specialist contacts who could easily make up for my short-comings if need be. My immediate thought was actually infiltrating the apartments, possibly using the tried and true hacked maintenance order and a disguise in an armoured workman's disguise I possess. I'm good enough with electronics to be able to place some taps and bugs, and I also have cybernetic visual and sonic replacements, and an attention co-processor to allow me a greater ability to split my focus and more completely analyze that data.

But now it seems that role may not be required. I don't have the necessary vehicle interfaces, but a command utility would allow us a better coverage of security and ability to counter-act an assassination attempt, unless the apartment security system maintains drones, then I could subvert them through that system, if I could get appropriate access, or even the program I use to give faked command codes with, assuming I can pilfer the access identification of the a security or admin level user. Me and my contacts can get started on that as soon as we all figure out our roles as relevant to the run, although it will probably preclude me assisting much with the matrix focused legwork, in particular investigating the other deaths, but I'm sure you have skills and contacts to take care of that particular aspect of legwork. Keep me updated with your findings, though, as I've found even seemingly irrelevant personal information can be relevant to a successful matrix run.

Keep in mind that I can be on call to assist physically if situation demands, as I have experience dodging bullets and firing a pistol, and my move-by-wire reflex enhancement and motor-efficiency expert system gives me an edge against unaugmented opposition. Unfortunately, the best firepower in my current arsenal is a modded praetor submachine gun, and I don't currently have the soft to operate it proficiently..." Blackie trails off, finally losing confidence and draining his soykaf before sinking back in his seat. During further conversation, he pours some salt onto the table and scrapes it about the table with an antique coin he produces from his pocket, neurotically separating the pile into lines and stirring it up again ad infinitum.



OOC:

"So," Dick points to Blackie, "We have infiltration and matrix covered, plus anything else we can provide 'softs for," points at the Professor, " first aid and brains," points at warrior, "hurting things," shifts the finger towards Cruze, "Infiltration and sexiness with a nice side of psychotic pain-dealing," and finally points to himself, "and infiltration, disguise, and personal interaction covered. Anything I'm missing?"

"We seem a little short on the magical end of things. Spellcasting, counterspelling, that sort of thing. The three other doctors who have been killed recently all died by fire. That would certainly be doable by magic, or spirits. If I could get a hold of police reports on their deaths, and even a look at where they died, I might have a better idea of what we might face."

"Yup. It looks more and more like I'm going to have to develop my Psychometry skills. I will be lucky to get anything out of the death scenes now."

Hey Doc, I was planning on keeping signal leakage under control using fibre and laser links. Would you be able to sense any Astral shenanigans using my endoscope if I can lay a proper fibre run from the apartment to somewhere convenient in the building? Perhaps the roof, basement or a vacant apartment?

I think if three of us are capable of pulling off some sort of utility worker scam then that is what we should go with for wiring the apartment. I think we should do proper counter-surveillance first though, including sending a real utility worker to the building on some sort of trumped up job.

I'd also like to look at getting access to a vacant apartment in the same building or one nearby. I definitely want to scout a vantage point I can safely snipe from, something secluded with decent sight-lines within a klick or so of the building.

"No. Astral perception doesn't work through fibre optics. You can use them to direct the casting of a spell, but in the astral plane the cable would just be a long tube of blackness. The walls would be just as impenetrable to that sense. I would have to be in the apartment to be able to see any astral entities appearing there.

"I've got workwear, but no fake insignia to match yours. I can drive the truck, though." *smile*

November, 18th 2069, 22:30: The Korean War Veterans Memorial

The rain continued to pelt down on the ground. One of the nicer additions to the Washington D.C. and by extension Arlington was the inclusion of an automated taxi service. It was entirely drone operated. It meant that instead of having a to take many taxi for a party of four they could comfortably fit into one. It was though an invitation to every hacker to find ways to circumvent the paying part. Rumors also started circling of all sorts of transactions being offered in them. From drugs to call girls. Of course D.C. did not like that. Even if it power was greatly diminished as the new UCAS it still had that old U.S. pride.

The taxi did not reek of anything, only of a mild earthy pine scent. The leather creaked and crackled as if new. The only thing was the ubiquitous video camera discreetly tucked on the top of the canopy of the cab, its all-seeing-eye shrouded in an inky veil.

The cab left you off at the pre-arranged location. The path that winds its way to the memorial well illumined. The trees on one side large and thinck, and on the other the expanse of open ground. Showing the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. Above, the night sky was shrouded in dark clouds and in strong AR reminders that for at least tonight the skies around the area were a no-fly zone. Unlike in Seattle where this meant that anyone with proper money could move, this in D.C. meant exactly what it said. Those drones that were in the air were large, angry, heavily armed and had no moral predilections on not carrying out their task with ruthless efficiency.

The Korean War Veteran's Memorial area was partially darkened. The only sound was the pattering of the rain against steel helmets. The statues commemorating the Korean War seem to walk up the hill, their blowing ponchos giving motion to their column, if one strained one could almost hear them talking to one another. It is not possible to tell how many there, and could be there are legions emerging from the woods.

The ground was hilly, with little perch or place to hide. The lead scout gripped his M-1 Garand in his cold hand. Looking ahead and illuminated in the cold bath of white light displaying his features in profile. Water drips from his nose, waiting to be brushed aside. The basalt of the wall showing images of the war in high relief.

Reaching near the lead scouts eyes trace to rippling pool ahead. The goal of his night time patrol. Around the pool are inscribed different words: Dead, Wounded, Captured, and finally Missing.

The node demands almost standing on the engraving to see it. Perhaps not one of the first places to hide something, but also in a place very hard to find. There is a notice blinking in soft yellow. A transaction that has been frozen in place, the sum of 60,000 nuyen is seen the request is to which account should the money be deposited to.

The node displays a manila envelope. The manila envelope contains four files with the names: Dr. Edward Turner (MD), Dr. Charles Parnell (MD), Gen. David Miller (MD), Dr. Robert Karkoff (MD).

"It would appear we cannot split the payment directly. We must do so after the money is transferred out of here. Seeing as I am the least capable of effecting misdirection in this regard, and the least likely to survive an attempt to do so, I offer one of my accounts for the initial transfer.

Ah. Files on all four. Good. I wouldn't mind perusing the files of the three slain physicians for clues."

Once transactions and anything else that needs to be done here are finished, and we are in a -relatively- safe place, Professor would like to study the three files to see if there is any pattern or modus operandi. Perhaps Dr. Karkoff's file will help those who know such things to begin arranging the surveillance.