02-Apr-2071, 08:00:00

It's been a few weeks since the job from that stripper at ticklers went through. As usual it had not been as easy as advertized, but not as bad as it could have been, and the money had been good - 12'500 nuyen, minus expenses. Of course it wouldn't hurt to get more money now - living expenses tend to pile up. Gang violence has been picking up, and now the syndicates seem to be getting into it as well, with tempo being all the rage on all the parties.

Your mailbox - the one who's number is not public, and which you use for shadow business - receives a message at 08:00 Quite unassuming, just an invite to Tickler's for a "private business dinner", signed by a Mister J. The club sounds familiar, but it was a Miss J last time. But it would be too late for an april's fool prank, so this is most likely a genuine job offer - it better be, or someone screwed up.

23-Mar-2071, 05:22:29, Lower Queen Anne Hill, Downtown, Seattle

Running shoes slap the wet pavement as Nuke runs through the pre-dawn streets. J-Pop pulses through his head, pacing his morning workout.

Can’t call myself a shadowrunner if I can’t run.

Even as he runs, a swarm of green AR windows float in front of his eyes, fighting for his attention. Among them are task managers for both nexuses, a digital music playlist, the GPS indication of his location, a weather report, a virtual stopwatch, his current spoofed AccessID, the alarm log for his commlink’s firewall, and a status window for the agent scanning for hidden wireless nodes.

A neighbor passes, running the other way, out with her dog. She waves. Nuke waves back nervously, just like every morning. It’s a nice neighborhood. A lot of his neighbors are out for their morning run, despite the cold, damp air.

The neighbors that he’s met think he’s a network engineer for an MSP. None of them know he’s a convicted felon. None of them know that he’s a career criminal. None of them know that he’s got a handgun in the small of his back. None of them know that he only lives among them because a lot of software is running around the clock, faking bank transaction information to pay his bills. None of them know he’s watched someone through a rifle scope for 19 hours, read their email, looked through their family photos, and then blown the top of their head off.

None of them know, because they figure that he’s just like them.

Nuke keeps running, smiling to himself at his own ability to hide in plain sight.

strike

Fluttering in mid air the hanafuda card split into two as the paper edge bisected it neatly. The pieces twirled to the sand coated wood floor as Yukika studied the pattern of her footwork. With a small nod she smiled to herself. She would need to practice more, but her form was decent. Unfortunately the practice floor was a mess, the sand wasn't a problem, but a full deck of cards was now in pieces cluttering the floor in blanket of shredded blossom painted cards. It would be impolite to ask the Kami to clean it up. Still, she had an hour or two to clean it up before she headed to tonight's game.

Tonight's game. Dangerous, there might be blood if the wrong associations were made. There were secrets she knew, recently acquired secrets. The old secrets weren't much danger to her. The new ones could be. Tonight she would have to pay special attention to the players. After tonight it wouldn't be too bad, since she would now would have an excuse to know them, and to be known to them. After the exhausting run she'd been on it had been good to recover, but after finding out a bit better what was happening, she'd been glad she had stayed in a hidden support role and not revealed herself directly. After finding out who had been involved with what, she'd even had to be careful what she told Jimmy No. Thankfully he'd been discrete, and she'd been able to avoid lying to him.

Everything was cleaned up, it was time for her to go to her weekly card game with the clan.

March 24, 4:15pm ,Broken down warehouse, Puyallup Barrens

"That kid will never ride in here again Charlene, I can promise you that. not without a rubber straight jacket."Jasper double checked all the new chips and fuses in the van. Discharge had come in handy on the run, he had to admit it, but it took every bit of restraint not to strangle him for frying Charlene's hardware. Cost of doin business i guess. plus she needed the upgrade anyway. Slim had let Jasper work at his shop for a few days, for a few cred. but it made it a little easier to get things done than workin in that shipping container. He had barely seen the light of day through all the AR screens for diagnostics and schematics, Plus the "D_Koi" File sharing site. he had a lot of software to maintain too. "I think I'm gonna need a break Charlene. After we're done here, I'm findin a good place to get blind stinkin drunk. "

02-Apr-2071, 08:05:00. Rossi's House.

Rossi sprawled in a chair older than he was and skim read the message for a third time. He'd kept himself to himself for the two weeks since his last job, waiting for signs that one of the other runners or a random ganger would take the time to track him down. No-one had come of course and offers of more work had been non-existant.

"Sounds far too much like a trap," he muttered to himself. "But hell I'd rather get shot at than spend another night gardening..."

During downtime, Flash chose not to show off her hard-earned nuyen. Not just yet. That being said, she still threw a huge party in her house and invited most of the Klashers, with the party spilling onto the lawn. That was the best way to avoid questions being asked actually, considering the crowd she is in. Gangers don't ask questions when you invite them to your place and pay for all sorts of drugs and booze and chips; instead, their brains freeze and they leave the next morning oblivious and happy. Only her boyfriend and partner knew where that money came from and how she had spent the two weeks away from home. And it was fine that way.

Days later, she received a call from a Mr. J in the same location as the last time. That was good news considering how well the last run had paid. She would most definitely be there.

2-Apr-2071 10:00:00 Puyallup Barrens
Jasper tried to blink the pain out of his eyes, but it was no use. he was staring into the hazy sunlight of a spring morning, and as grey as it was, it was burning through his hungover brain like a torch through a cheese doodle.I gotta think of better ways to spend my time. Scratching himself he realized he had no pants on. he pulled himself up onto his shoulders and peered over his gut. he was relieved to see his coveralls around his ankles. Better than pissin in em again I guess. He also noticed that he was Lying in the bed of his pick up truck,"Shelly". "thanks fer drivin home ol' girl" he said before he realized that the orc woman from a few boxes down was standin there with her litter o' kids. "sorry" he muttered as he struggled to pull his pants up. He tried to remember the lady's name as he fumbled with the cheep biolock on his home. Kess, Tess, somethin like that, she was related to at least half the gangers that watch over this place, so it wasn't a good Idea to piss her off. retrieving his real commlink from his toolbox he plugged in for the mornin news. The old fashion mailbox flag was up and he read over the message from "Mr Johnson". Kinda fishy, I don't recollect mrs J having a partner. could be anybody I guess, but why Ticklers again? I wonder If they're trying to hire the same crew. I guess it don't matter nohow, If I don't get back to work, I'll just drink myself stupid. Jasper sent a response to note his interest and get the details.

02-Apr-2071, 08:01:14, Lower Queen Anne Hill, Downtown, Seattle

Nice. More easy money from Ticklers.

Nuke pauses the morning news and goes over the message again, checking to make sure he didn’t miss anything the first time. Not seeing a time listed, he elects to arrive early to spend the evening watching hockey and enjoying the scenery.

His plans for the evening set, the hacker returns his attention to the bowl of granola and the disassembled rifle on the kitchen table.

02-Apr-2071, 16:57:14, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Nuke listens to the pregame show as the announcers run down the list of injuries and key matchups that are likely to decide the clash between the Blackhawks and the Stars. Debates of speed versus strength, agility versus quickness, and ten thousand other minor details are repeated ad nauseum as the commentators struggle to justify their own jobs.

Hoping not to draw too much attention, the hacker arrives at the club dressed much like the last time. The jeans are a different brand and the sweatshirt is dark red, but the look is the same. The hidden gun is definitely the same.

02-Apr-2071, 10:00:00, Tacoma, Seattle

Toweling down after a shower - neccessitated by her morning workout - Stray frowns at her commlink. She'd thought she was rich after the job from that lady at ticklers, but the money had started to evaporate quickly. Payment to the Yakuza, rent, food - she splurged there some, admittedly - better programs forher commlink, partying, and of course... her new bike. A Suzuki Mirage. It handles like a dream, and riding it, Seattle seems much smaller, so fast is it! But it means she is on her way to being broke again, and she's been putting out word she was looking for work since a few days. It had been nice, living without worries, riding her new speed demon, going out whenever she felt like it, but she needs money to keep that up. The mail she got perks her up - ask and you shall receive, like in the trideo shows! Checking her weapons, the girl whisltes some advertising jingle.

02-Apr-2071, 19:05:14, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

By now the shows have started, though Nuke can of course continue watching sports reports in his personal AR surroundings, and ignore the girls on stage. It seems Mr. J spread the word on who to expect, since he isn't getting bothered overmuch by the girls working the floor. Miss Johnson herself is currently dancing, and wearing less than she wore when she gave the runners the last job.

A bit later Stray enters the club, dressed in long jeans and a t-shirt, as last time, heading to the bar. She looks a bit uncomfortable there, probably because of the drunk ork there flashing some commlink at her with a leering smile.

55 minutes until Mr. Johnson should show up.

02-Apr-2071, 19:59:00 , Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Everything was exactly as she remembered, except for the weather of course. But this evening she'd taken the time to enjoy part of the evening downtown first. An early dish of sashimi followed by fresh steaming green tea had provided her with enough pleasant memories to last the eveing, if not beyond. If only she could get rid of the unpleasant memories. There was always a price for power.

Yukika approached the meeting spot, curious to see if what the kami reported matched what she found there. They weren't malicious, but occasionally they mis interpeted or were confused when they encountered people such as the ones she was likely to meet here this evening.

19:59:30 Ticklers

Jasper cruised the block one last time and pulled up to Ticklers for a second meet. He noticed a familiar chopper nearby, and a shiny new suzuki. "Man, I might just have to get a bike one o' these days--No offense Shelly" He sends Charlene on a tight perimeter patrol, knowing there's a good chance he'll lose contact with her in that champagne room. He sees Snow Flower walking up to the club and smiles to himself a little bit. Following her in, he hopes to see the rest of the crew. It was a solid group and the last run went really smooth. Jasper was wearing the same coveralls and hat that read "Maintenance", the only difference was a black t-shirt instead of the blue.

02-Apr-2071, 20:00:00, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

What started as a fairly tight hockey game rapidly turned into a shooting drill, then a full on rout, leaving Nuke’s attention evenly split between the late third period fights started by the frustrated losers and the floor show. When the commlink alarm sounds, he drags himself away from staring longingly into the nether regions of a 19 year old Filipino girl and immediately notices Stray, looking annoyed and awkward.

Funny how the one woman in the room with pants on stands out from the crowd. He flashes her a sheepish smile on the way to the door.

As the hacker crosses the parking lot and ducks down the alley, he shuffles the AR window haze, shifting his focus from post game analysis to the world around him. Spotting the others in the alley, he relaxes a little bit. His hand drifts away from the concealed pistol.

�Nice night. How goes it?�

02-Apr-2071 20:00:06 Ticklers

Jasper had just said hello to Snow flower, when the Hacker made his way into the ally,"Hey slim, they got you back here too? we musta made a good impression on somebody"

02-Apr-2071, 19:55:08, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

After an hour inside the club, the outside air felt refreshing for all its slightly chemical smell. Less smoke, and less leering too. The adept pulled her armored jacket on, looked to make sure her new bike was still around, and then walked over to the side alley where the runners were expected. She greeted the rest of the people present with a friendly smile and nod, though offering a deeper nod - almost a bow - to Yukika.

Flash arrived no more than five minutes before the time she was asked to be there, meeting with the other runners outside. Flash had the same blond wig as last meet, wearing the typical boots, jeans, t-shirt and armored jacket.

"Hey guys and gals! You missed me, didn't you?" she says with a joyful smile that was almost out of place.

02-Apr-2071, 20:00:00, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

�Best part about easy money. Makes it easy to make the good impressions you need to make more of it.�

Nuke settles into comfortably loitering against the damp brick wall, right at the edge of the light cast by the fixture over the door. His hands disappear into his pockets.

Certainly hope this is more easy money.�

Jasper Nods his ballcap to the two girls arriving in the ally, "Evenin Ladies" He scratches the stuble under his chin,"Anybody feelin like that last run went so smooth because they were just butterin us up for this one? Just a thought."

02-Apr-2071, 19:57:08, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

"You suspect a trap?" Stray was biting her lower lip - she did not think of that.

�Last run cost them almost a hundred grand. That’s a lot of money to throw at someone you intend to double cross. I’ll start getting nervous if the jobs keep getting easier and the pay keeps getting better, or if they stop paying us anything up front.�

02-Apr-2071, 20:01:05, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

A bit after the agreed upon time the sidedoor was opened - not by a woman in skimpy clothes, but by a tall, burly ork in an ill-fitting suit. A few lumps in the suit seemed to be concealed weapons.

"Mr. Johnson awaits you in the Red Room. Third room to the right."

With that the ork motioned the runners present to move on, holding the door open.

The Red Room looked like the room the runner were in before, just with a red color theme. Inside it a man was seated on a couch, with another muscular ork standing behind him, and watching the runners as they filter in. An almost nude woman was leaving the room right before the runners arrived. The man was standing up, adjusting his belt, and smiled widely at the criminals.

"Ah, welcome, welcome! I am Mr. Johnson. Please have a seat. Anything to drink?"

The man had a very handsome face - almost too handsome, pretty sure the result of extensive surgery, since he didn't carry himself with quite the style to match it. He was wearing an expensive suit, with clearly visible labels from the "Mr. Big" line, the fashion label from the gangsta star of the same name, and a gold chain around the neck, visible through his open shirt, with copious amount of skin tanned too even to be the result of exposure to the sun. The smile he flashed to all female runners showed pearl white perfect teeth straight out of a dental commercial, and an attitude that was perfectly at home in front of a strip stage. He's lacking the feathered hat, but everything else screams "pimp".

Once everyone was seated, or found a spot to lean on a wall and look grim and gritty, the man went on to explain that he was a partner of sorts of Ticklers, and had gotten the names of the runners from Dae. He was in need of smart runners with a knack for investigating things - bruisers he claimed to have enough, like Bruno there.

"See, folks, I run an... entertainment agency. One of my girls, Cheryl, was kidnapped last night. Looked like a real professional job, not the usual business. Her driver was taken out when she was leaving a client, and she was dragged into a van, all in a few seconds. The van was later found, sanitized, on a parking lot of a mall in Everett. So, I thought that was a job for professionals, and a bit of asking around got me your names. I need Cheryl found, and brought back, and I want to know who took her and what for. Do that and you'll get 5K each, 20% in advance. What do you say, folks?"

20:01 Ticklers

Jasper scoped out the beef packed suit that escorted him in, and his Two buddies in the Red room. They seemed pretty straight forward, Pimp and muscle. but Jasper was feelin a little less comfortable than last time. He grabbed a spot on the left side of the couch to give "Harry" the clearest shot possible from his holster on his right hip."You got a Shot a whisky on the rocks?"
He slowly drew a cigarette from his front pocket in his coveralls and gestured to the Orc bodyguards that he was grabbing his lighter. Listening to the Offer, he was suddenly,acutely aware that Rossi hadn't showed up for this one. Snowflower might have to do the haggling with these guys, although they might not respond well to women in the negotiating department.
The first question that came to Jasper's mind was, "How'd they do the driver?" Professional curiosity.

02-Apr-2071, 20:10:39, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson takes a sip from his drink before answering Jasper. "Stick'n'Shock SMG burst to the face while she was holding the door open for Cheryl. She's in need of some reconstructive surgery but otherwise fine. If only she'd use the opportunity to get some biosculpting done as well..."

�This should be awkward. Really hope no one brings up what he wants done if she doesn’t want to come back. If they do, I hope he’s paying extra to kidnap her and bring her back.�

The list of possible leads blossoms in the hacker’s head as he sorts through his potential starting points to find the missing girl.

“So, umm, where and when did she disappear and who had she just seen?�

Two more things pop into his head.

“And where’s the van and her driver?�

02-Apr-2071, 20:12:01, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson looks a bit embarrassed. "Ah... that's confidental information, which I can only provide once you accept the mission. Our clients require a great deal of discretion, you understand..."

She'd smiled politely at each of the others as she encountered them and listened to their idle chatter.

Oni

None of what she'd seen here was surprising, conducting business for Butterfly made her more then familiar with the business. Surveying who was here, she made a decision. In her old company she would be more delicate and subtle, but here amongst these people it was better to be direct.

"Excuse me. For the amount you offer you can get another girl instead, neh? Several probably. There is something special about this one, so you are much more interested in finding out who and why this was done then the girl returning?"

She smiled brightly as she paused, before finishing, "You ask several things of us, if some are done, and not others, which ones do you prefer?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:13:06, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson smiled and did not even blush when he answered the woman. "Not at all. Cheryl is dear to me, and she can't be easily replaced. Appearance is not everything, you know, there's the inside that counts as well." Given his attitude he was probably talking about 'ware, not character.

"Both getting her back and knowing why she was taken is of equal value to me."

Nodding in understanding Yukika glanced around at the others to check for objections before proceeding.

usual uncertainty... turn the card ... we play...

She focused back on the sculptured pimp and shifted her body subtly in emphasis, "Since there are so many valuable services you'd like us to perform for you, they will take more time and effort on our part, neh?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:14:11, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson turned out to drive a harder bargain than expected, but after a bit of negotiation he agreed to pay 1K more per runner, provided the girl gets returned within the week.

He also uses the opportunity to send all females in the room an employment offer with the note "If you need more money I've got an opportunity for you" attached.

Yukika ignored the buzz from her message indicator and tucked her legs underself as she relaxed back on the couch. Time for the others to learn what they needed. She looked over at Nuke expectantly.

Nuke slouches in his seat a bit, listening to the metaphorical clash of mental rapiers as Snowflower and Mr. Johnson debate the various aspects of the job, what each factor is worth, how long it should take, and eventually settle on an acceptable price.

�Now that we’re working for you, where and what time was she taken, and who was her client? It’d also help to know everything you have on the missing girl and the driver, and to get a good long look at the van and the driver.

02-Apr-2071, 20:15:45, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson nodded to Nuke. "Ok, I trust you to treat this information with the utmost discretion. Cheryl was meeting a Mister Frank Smith in the Chelsea's. Of course that's not his real name. But from our, ah, sources we know that he looks a lot like Andrew Kelborn, a manager from United Oil. Cheryl was abducted last night, at 0100 hours, right in front of the entrance." Mr. Johnson looked mighty pleased when he used military time, and put a chip on the small table in front of him. "Here's a recording from the driver's simrig. It's not much, I am sorry. Ah... make sure you remove the pain track before you play it, ok? It's a raw record." From the way he winced, he might have forgot that himself. "The driver is currently undergoing surgery, but she's been with us for 2 years already."

02-Apr-2071, 20:19:03, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson took another mouthful from his drink before he returned to the subject. "Cheryl... I don't know much about her, to be honest. I don't pry in the private lives of my employees, I am a gentleman, you know. Her SIN checked out, and that was it. She started working for me one year ago, and is quite popular with our discerning clients. Paid back her implants already. She doesn't chip either, just does Tempo, but who doesn't these days? Nice girl all around, never gave me trouble. Really friendly, if you get my meaning, neh?" Mr. Johnson handed over Cheryl's adress - a high-class condoplex in Downtown.

"We've already looked at the van. It was sanitized though - one of those chemical grenades or what they are, which break down even DNA and stuff. Smelled nasty, I tell you."

02-Apr-2071, 20:20:05, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Stray had smiled internally - and grinned externally - at the offered sum. That should cover her expenses for another month! The attached work offer made her blink, and left her unsure how to react - that sort of stuff didn't usually happen during a meeting, right?

Snow Flower avoided the chip and let the others view it. Later would be a better time to get help before accessing it. She could still feel the ache in hip from the last simsense recording she'd tried to experience.

"Regular client? Who else would know Cheryl's schedule?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:20:22, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson confirmed that Mister Smith was a regular client of Cheryl. He frowned slightly when the question of her schedule came up. "Anyone with access to our system, which is fairly secure, would know her schedule. And her friends, of course."

Assuming no one objects, Nuke jams the chip into a decoy commlink then connects his own to it to examine the data. First, he runs a quick scan of the data on the chip, looking for worms, Trojans, or any other malware that might be lurking.



Assuming he finds none, he opens the file, turns off the tactile, olfactory, and emotive tracks, and plays the audio and video channels.

The segment of Cheryl walking towards the car gets flagged. The audio of the gunfire gets flagged. The segment of the actual snatch gets flagged.

They shot the driver at close range as they got out of the van. She’s lucky to be alive. I’d have blown the top of her head off from a few blocks away rather than risk her returning fire. Confident shooters. Wonder what else they let slip through the cracks. Have to keep careful track of all the tricks these guys used and all the things they missed. Some of it might keep me out of prison.

“Any witnesses who might have called Lone Star?�

02-Apr-2071, 20:22:34, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson blinks. "Yes, of course. But none of their recordings are as good as ours."

Jasper waits for his chance to veiw the feed from the chip. He looks for other vehicles in the backgroud that might be reacting to the scene, if anyone follows the van, how many people are involved, he watches for anyone in the vehicle thats "sacked out" either in VR or that Magic thing. I gotta see this Van up close.Jasper looks to the johnson,"Have ya talked to Mr Smith? "

02-Apr-2071, 20:22:55, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson shook his head. "Of course not. Our business relies on discretion."

"Lone Star start their investigation yet? Hate to have to climb over twenty miles of yellow crime scene tape to get anything done."

02-Apr-2071, 20:22:55, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson leaned back. "Lone Star has started their investigation - in a matter of fashion I would say. I was contacted by the detective in charge, a detective Vandersmith. He wants to talk to me... in two weeks."

Jasper Looks to Snowflower to rap up the meet. they had gotten the gist of it, now it was a matter of legwork.

Still focused on rooting through the driver's recording, Nuke fires out one more question, satisfied for the moment that he won't be tripping over a group of LS forensic hackers.

"That's a relief. Where are the van and the limo right now?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:24:15, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson coughed. "The Van was impounded by Lone Star, it was stolen some time ago I believe. The limousine is currently in use, but we've given you all the records from it, and the kidnappers never touched it."

02-Apr-2071, 20:25:05, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

"We know where to reach you if we have more questions, neh?"

Snow Flower looked around at the assembled group, "Shall we go now?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:26:38, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Mr. Johnson nodded at Snow Flower, and sent the runners present a message with a comm code. "Yes. You can reach me under this comm number."

02-Apr-2071, 20:26:41, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Nuke nods.

"Yeah, sounds good."

Flash had remained silent at the beginning, and she had watched the chip handed to them - in hot sim. The pain had been excruciating and she had to make a lot of effort to keep her composure. Some of the other runners might have caught a glimpse of her painful experience when she first felt the stick'n'shocks to her face. This was a fun experience for Flash, though. She usually played the part of the aggressor in recordings, not the victim, and she'd have to try it again. She also made a quick copy of this one recording when it was plugged in, because it seemed that it had no auto-destroy feature like usual BTLs. She looked forward to playing it back again.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Johnson. Can we receive our 20% now?"

02-Apr-2071, 20:30:20, Ticklers, Alki, Downtown, Seattle

Snow Flower moved to her feet in a smooth practiced motion, bowed to the pimp with a smile then turned and left the room.

Once outside she asks, "Chelsea's, neh? Until we decide what to do?"