It started as a punk concert and quickly evolved into a riot of epic proportions. The Star couldn't do drek all as the hundreds of Barrens rioteers, metahumans, HMMVV infected, and even a few free spirits brought the riot into the suburbs. Molotovs were throw, black flags were waved.

And then Lone Star and Knight Errant started using freeze foam cannons, and arrested 89 of the rioters, as well as causing a few 'accidental deaths'. But the hundreds of rioters who got out, they remembered. They remembered the Anarchy, the freedom. People were actually equals for once. It didn't matter what part of society you were from, how many nuyen you had, or whether or not you were a corper. All that mattered is you were ALIVE.


Now it's time to take back the glorious feeling of equality. You might not be a corp sponsored military, or trained in any way shape or form, but frag it. You've got the skills you need. You've got the knowledge of what to do.

Here, in this lonely Barrens commune where you are gathered, the Revolution starts.

There's not a whole lot here outside or in, but then again, what else would you expect from a building this far down in the Pullyup. A brief glance around the room shows nothing but a bit of booze, food, and a table with a map spread over it. Not even a single fraggin chair. Who knew that revolutionaries were dirt poor?

Introduce yourselves(a riot doesn't leave much time for intoductions, eh?), give the others an idea of what you do

There was purity in a riot. It was human nature distilled down to base instincts. It strips away the logic, the fear, the overwhelming sense of social propriety and worth assed by class that the establishment has pounded into everyone's head from day one. Humans become reptiles. They rage, they fight, and they frag things up. A riot is primal, furious, and oh so bloody good fun.

Mr. Molotov, as the kids who'd been hanging around him ever since his release had taken to calling him, had been backstage for the show itself. Johnny Skunge and the Human Drek had taken the stage, and the crowd was in a right frenzy. He was laughing to himself, thinking about how many punk acts had guys named Johnny in them. It just went with the territory. Like guys Private Investigator's named Sam. Or strippers named Candy. It was all about name branding, marketing, and fitting in while bucking the system. You had to embrace conformity in order to appreciate anarchy. You had to embrace anarchy to truly live.

All of this ricochets through Molotov's mind before the Human Drek have broken into the first verse of the deliciously vulgar Your Mom.

Bright and early in the morning, before he could even crack open his first brew, he'd received a knock on his door. Well, no, he'd received a knock through his door. Two cops in riot gear had roused all the strung and hung over kids, and kicked them out of the living room. Only when they'd checked the adjacent rooms had the suit come on in. Some balding, pinch nosed little smear who's name Johnny's already forgotten when it finishes crossing his crackled lips. The suit goes on about how he's Johnny's P.O. and how Johnny forgot to check in with him when he got out, and how he had to track Johnny down at the cost of a lot of effort on his part of some drek. He tells Johnny he needs to straighten up and fly right or it's back to the slammer for him. Johnny does his best well-gosh Leave it to Beaver and slicks back his already electric blue hair, props his P.O. he'll do just that, that he'll become a good little sheeple, and maybe buy a fancy suit like his. He even asks who the guy's tailor is, like the beuro-prat even has a tailor. Like he's not just the same old waste of humanity as Johnny pretending he's something better. He'd said all this with his most sincerely honest to the Queen tone of voice and deferent bow of the head, and the suit had bought it.

Before they'd even cleared the hall Johnny'd made a call, and their car had gone missing.

Looking back it had made him laugh again, and the hang-arounds, these kids of the Anarchist Black Cross, sons and daughters of cacophony, they'd laughed along not even knowing what the deal was. Sometimes even an anarchist wants to fit in with an authority.

The Human Drek had done their deal, and someone had come up on the stage and called for everyone to shut the frag up and listen. Listen because there was a real hardcore deal in the house. Before the guy even said it Johnny was groaning. Yeah, he kind of liked having these Anarchist kids handing about, getting him things, and in general providing some decent people to party with. But he wasn't quite ready for the stage again just yet. Not that it mattered. Before he could tell one of the Anarchist kids to go snatch the mike and take a stage dive the words had been uttered. With this crowd all it took was on word to bring the roar back, and the chants for his name. Maybe one in every ten of them had been old enough to sneak out of their parent's house when he'd been arrested, but they'd heard from friends who knew a guy who'd been trying to get to the show he was brought down at. They all knew Redmond Burning. They didn't have to know his music to know him. He was something special to them.

It was too late to back down, so he'd stepped up.

What kind of man would he be if he hadn't?

No man at all.

He'd taken to the stage with a bottle in one hand, and a mic in the other, and a silence had fallen over them. Looking back he couldn't even remember what he'd said, just the feeling that had come with it. The empowerment. Forget the ride back into the Barrens. Forget the last two weeks. That moment had been his re-awakening.

When a voice from the back called out that the fuzz was on the way all eyes went to him. He'd taken a swig from the bottle, tossed it to the side, and called for a new one.

`Well it's a free show, lets go give 'em a welcome!`

They'd parted like the Red Sea, and had fallen in line behind him. Somewhere along the way he'd been handed a scrap of rag, and a lighter. Sure, it wasn't the best kind of incendiary out there. It wasn't even traditional. But when in doubt, make drek up.

By the time the first cruiser had screeched to a halt he was already in stride, adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a roar behind him, a frustrated mass of downtrodden souls screaming for an outlet for all their rage, he had stepped up onto the bumper of the cruiser, grabbed his crotch and pumped it in the direction of the cops inside, and raised the freshly lit bottle high.

It might not have been the first blow of the night, but his riot began with a Molotov smashed upon the windshield of that cruiser.

-----

How he'd ended up in Puyallup, a city away from where he'd began, was a blur.

He was still riding high on the fury of the moment. The smell of gasoline bit into his fingertips. He could still taste the CS gas, and it tasted glorious. Johnny Molotov's gangly six foot frame was in constant motion. He was pacing on the periphery of the gathering. Pacing, throwing random kung-fu moves, letting out the occasional whoop, and checking his liberty spikes to make sure they're all intact.

There had been some close calls there.

But he'd survived, and he hadn't been pinched. And now he was holed up in some doss he'd never seen before, separated from his entourage and full of manic energy. He knew this was only the beginning. He knew this was going to get crazy before it got wild. He felt alive like he hadn't in years.

`Alright lot, we gonna let the momentum die or what?` He approaches the table, hands splaying over the map. `I reckon some of you know me, but I'm not vein enough to presume. Name's Johnny Molotov, leastwise that's the name I care to use. We all cozy in the kitty and ready to burn this city?`

Johnny Molotov? The Johnny Molotov? Your a legend to those kids what the frag did you do? Not heard any of your music. Just you name bounced around. Let the momentum die? Did you see what I did to that er... citymaster. Yeah I made it run right off the road! Well I guess I'm Unwyn. I'm new here um.. literally. Yeah that's the word. Not been ... free for er.. long time. This is all a bit new.. no no... um.. confusing. Any one want to .. help me er.. learn about this world?

Well, that was one helluva riot back there. Before that, everything had seemed like it was just going to get worse. But now, there was purpose again. There was a new No idea what started it, but when sumthin like that starts happenin and about 50 bikers start racing past in a single group causing havoc, you just dont question it. You join in an' have some fun! Those cops didnt know what hit 'em. Nuthin quite like that feeling of tearing out of Redmond straight through bellevue and scaring the drek out of all those damned prissy upper-class, with 4 squad cars trying to tail you and about 5 other gangs who've never raced together before. Course, the highlight was using that makeshift ramp to jump that citymaster roadblock. Almost got caught there, and a lot of the guys did. Either that or they turned back (the pussies), but who cares? After the riot-cops started to outnumber the rioters still standing though, thats when its a good time to split and regroup. And now, it was time to continue the revolution! This should be fun

*a dwarf in black and red biker gear walks through the door, still with some freeze foam stuck to him, and tears off his helmet, revealing his fluorescent green hair and beard *

MAAAAN!!! That was FUN back there! Names Hank, but you guys can call me Krank. So, who are you chummers? Hey, i think i recognise you from somehwere, Johnny isnt it?

Tears streamed down his grime streaked face. For just a moment there he had felt alive, he had let his frustrations boil over and take control of him and he had felt alive, he had felt liberated, the pain of his sister's loss forgotten, the pain of his own guilt and anger eating at his guts gave way to a sense of joy as he let that same pain out to burn and destroy the world that had caused it.

He knew what to do now.

He would never stop looking for Gladys but he couldn't let the pain take over his entire life or he would never succeed.

Now he knew how to douse the pain. He would make this City burn.

He paced the room as these thoughts crowded his mind, his eyes flickering over everything, his subconscious searching his new surroundings and companions for anything useful. Escape routes, weapons, chemicals, abandoned propane tanks, the slow whup-whup-whup of drones searching for them, the approaching sirens that might spell the end of this enterprise, a couple of bags of soy-flour and a candle, anything.

Anything he could use to make this whole drek-damned world burn and help him escape to burn some more of it another day.

-----

He looked up at Johnny's words and grinned.

Fragging right I am but I want to do it right. I don't plan on goin' out in a hail of bullets any time soon.

Every one of us is hurtin' and we all know which frakkers are responsible. Let's take the pain back to it's source. Let's make those AAA mother-frakkers suffer and let's come back tomorrow and every day after that and do it again and again and again.

They only care about one thing. Money. Well let's see how much off it we have to wipe off their balance sheets for them to pack up and frak off.

Name's Flashbang. I did all the Pyro for the show tonight but that drek is small time compared to what I know how to do with a couple of bags of fertilizer and some fuel oil.

Big question right now is, are we safe here? Are the Star going to be knocking on our door with the big guns in twenty minutes looking for pay back or can we settle in here and start planning a war?

If there are I'm out of here faster than you can blink. Hey can one of you frags pass me a beer?

Flicking off some stray foam from his shoulder pad

Nah, havent got any booze on me right now chummer. But if the Star do decide to bust their way in here, we can show 'em whats comin their way. And right now i think thats exactly what we need to do anyway
So, right now they're probably resting on their laurels, happy with having stopped that last bit o' business. They probably wont be expecting anyone to still be up for a fight right now. So i think we should strike back now, get them on the back foot! I think we need to send them a message, we need to get on the offensive as soon as possible. No more letting them just trample over us on THEIR terms. While the spirit is still there we need to keep it alive. Going up against a full station house probably wont go very well right now, but we can work up to that. But me, i'd love to have a little bit of personal time with one or two of those cops responsible, show 'em that we wont be put down.

Nails practically digging into the table, wrinkling the map beneath them, Johnny's blood is molten technicolor and he's feeling alive. His striking green eyes flicker back and forth amongst his new compatriots, giving them each a moment's quick appraisal.

He spins from the table, and sits upon it, drumming his fingers upon the surface even as it groans under his not-so-considerable weight. To Unwin, he grins a pearly white grin.

`Me? I just lit a fire under their asses and opened their eyes. I was the to the flint to the fuse to the fuel, as the old song goes. The old Bellevue Punk Riot of '65, that was me and mine.`

The grin is twisted and feral, a parody of joy upon his face. There's pain there, hidden beneath the surface, but he's letting the manic rage fuel him for the moment.

To Krank, Flashbang, and to Unwin as well he gives a theatrical mock bow. As if he's got anything close to royal station; as if he's got class.

`You're right, I'm Johnny Molotov, and together I think we're gonna light this city up. Let the Star come. Let them batter down our doors and shake the windows. We've got an army at out fingertips, my friends. We're the Generals of the Revolution. And they can call me what they want, but today I'm Micheal. I'm the Angel of Death, I'm the motherfraggin' Grim Reaper baby, and it's the system that I'm knocking for.`

He's worked himself into a frenzy again, and he hops up from the table, his oldschool Doc Martens kicking debris around as he paces again.

`We need to strike a blow fast, though, strike one good. We need to send a message.`

If we are good here for a few hours I can whip something up that will make them sit up and take notice. I'll need to get out of here to pick up some supplies though.

Krank nods in approval of Johnny's speech

A few hours would probably help us, since they will think that everything has cooled down. Then we can take 'em by surprise. Doesnt have to be too big though. I have my bike, if you guys could rig something up i could lure a car into a trap and then we can have some fun with them.

I can "teliport", that's the word isn't it? So I could start off an timer and begone before it blows. Plus I have a few useful powers. I say we try and take a trophy from this. Sure would rock to have one of these citymasters. Unwyn looks quite smug with his little plan.
What do you mean no booze! That's something that we must fix NOW! We could grab the supplies form Flashbang while we are at it as well.

A look around shows Unwyn that there's some cheap soybrew in the corner: it may not be good, but it gets the job done. There's some food too.

The map shows a rough map of Seattle and the surrounding area: major buildings, malls, trid stations, and police and fire services are all marked out. A few other spots are marked out, including this building: you've got no idea what the rest are for.

Digital Herion:

[ Spoiler ]

Johnny's time looking at the old revolutionary tactics tells him that the corps would paint the guerillas as terrorists: getting some mobile broadcasting equipment would help get the message out while still providing a voice the crops couldn't deny. At the same time, the news of a raid on a trid station would spread like wildfire.

Crizh:

[ Spoiler ]

After a moment's thought, you're pretty sure you could brew up around 10 kilograms of ETN within a few hours without risk of something blowing up in your face. A few more minutes and you could easily assemble it into a few nice bombs.

If you were to make a bit less though, it wouldn't take as long.

Unwyn grabs one of the cans of soybrew
Krank you lie! For I have beer right here. Not like it dose anything to me but I like to drink.
Taking a swig of soy brew
I think we need a place to lay low for after each raid we do a defensible pace in the sewers could work even more so if you take over an old store room with aims to expand it a bit. Really I don't know how well we can defend here. On a side note any one want to show me to some of the better view points around here and door ways so i can get to them ASAP if needed.

Flashbang worked the Betel methodically between his jaws as he paced up and down.

If you want to make a statement quickly I can knock something up in a few hours but it won't be epic. I'll need a few days for epic. I don't want to be causing unnecessary fatalities however. I can create something non-lethal for squishy folks and something a bit more deadly for vehicles and breaching walls and stuff.

I need to get tools and stuff, who's coming with me?

I'll tag along. Whats the plan on the type of hit we'll be making? I think we need resources before we take on the big things.

Knocks on the door to the building, checks his watch after knocking.

Says to himself: I think I saw them running down here, I really gotta get in better shape for this.

Breathes heavily catching his breath

Walking back to the map, Johnny spends a pre-occupied moment looking it over before he reaches into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out his commlink. When he's handling the 'link, when he's bringing up the scanner function and starting to copy the map into the system, he seems to settle into a calm, like he's somehow centered by the union of man and machine. He takes a few moments to check the input of the scan before blinking and looking up.

`Ok, so we've got a few plans running around here, now don't we, lot?`

He props the link up so that it can continue processing and turns once more to the others, his previous fervor working back into his veins.

'Krank's got wheels and wants to use 'em to have a little fun; Unwin wants a Citymaster... both of which play well together; Flashbag's full of surprises but needs a little time someplace quiet, and there's talk of finding us a base of operations.`

He lets it all clatter-clack in his head a bit, and nods.

`Now wheels are good, mobility is key, and what better set to ride on than those of our oppressors. We get Flashbang some time to get some toys together, and then we can lure us some fuzz into an ambush, get us a prize. That'll be the first step, the first stike to keep the fire hot... but we need to take the message to the people, we need to let them hear the truth because the Man'll be spinning lies. So once we've got us a ride we need to be thinking base of ops, and then we need to get our voices heard city-wide and beyond...`

He's in full on rant mode when there's a knock on the door. He hops and turns heel, scooping up his commlink, and he moves to the other side of the table.

`Anyone order a pizza?`

Johnny you've got connections couldn't you use the ABC and the matrix to send our message. Until we can hijack a better way of doing it. For impact we need a name and our colours. We need more like minded people and the ... equipment 'n' plans. Then we need places to flee and resupply before we strike hard. We need to be able to make the star and the met guard not want to enter the barrens but not want to burn them to the ground. Don't the orcs have there tunnle system under Seattle if we can get them on our side we are set.

Knocks on the door again louder this time


Yells: Aw come on, I saw you all go in there.


Adjusts his glasses and checks his watch, after knocking on the door

Pizza. Hell, he hadn't had pizza in ages. The kids had provided everything from a gun, to booze, to women, but they hadn't been able to rustle up a pizza. It was a little disappointing now that he thought about it. Not that he'd had a lot of pizza before, but what good's being a rising punk legend if you don't have a good rider in your non-existent contract?

Sidling to the door, he nods to Unwin.

`Yeah, I've got the Anarchist boys salivating for some action, but they're their own army, not mine. They'll spread the word, but we need to think bigger than just the Barrens. We need to broadcast.``

He pulls the Streetline Special from his belt, an action that would have in a past life seemed alien to him, but feels strangely good. Unlatching the door, he cracks it open a touch, bracing his foot to prevent it from opening further. Peering out at the guy with the glasses, he grunts.

`You the pizza delivery man? If not you'd better be someone good and special or I might have to take offense to your presence and lodge a formal complaint with the Warren Commission.`

Damned pizza, probably not even got anything real on or in it. Who needs that soy pap when you can just kill a rat or three for a meal. Besides, the indigestion wouldn't be worth it

Now i'm all up for some rough rides, and taking a citymaster DOES sound like a helluva fun idea. One problem: you guys actually wanna keep the thing? It's probably going to be loaded with rfids and tracking devices. I can try and get them all off, but bikes are my gig, not honking great riot tanks. I know a guy who could probably do something with it though

Looking over his shoulder, apparently not too concerned there's someone at the door, Johnny grins a thousand megawatt grin.

`Why do we need to worry if the cops know we've got their wagon? This is a revolution. It's war, and you've got to get under the man's skin. No better way to do that than to make a chariot of one of his rides.`

He taps the muzzle of his Streetline against his forehead, thinking.

`Hell, I might even be able to do something about the tags myself, or talk to that friend of yours at least. No use having a chariot if they're just gonna jack it again.`

I apologize but I'm not the pizza delivery man. I'm Dr. Fennex or used to be at least. I followed you guys from the riot, I recognized you Johnny Molotov as the perfect man for my quest to "fix" this government and by fix I mean burned in a horrible inferno to watch them burn slowly and in much pain that their expressions won't even do it justice, that will be the pay for what they did. To watch the fire burn everything they love and crush their spirit, that is only fair. To hear them scream and beg while the fire consumes them slowly and yet beautifully, that will be their first taste of hell. A day I dream for..

I have medical training of a doctor and I'm no longer a Doctor by legal means due to not legally existing.
May I please help with whatever you are up to?

Looking back to the door, Johnny's mouth quirks in a grin.

`Burn, you say? Hell, I like your enthusiasm Doc. I'm pretty damn sure we'll end up needing a medico at some point or another on this mad crusade.`

He pulls his foot away from the door, unblocking it, and gestures for the good doctor to enter.

`Welcome to Rebel Center, don't mind the mess. We had to fire the maid.`

Krank gets up from the table and starts towards group at the door, helmet under his arm
"Hey, we got another face in here. Cool. So how long we gonna wait before we head out? I wanna get started and lead those cops on a merry little chase. Just give me a couple of hours to get my gear

Good to have you on board Doc. I'm Flashbang and I'm sure to have need of your services at some point. Chem labs are dangerous places. Anyways, me and Unwyn here are headed out for supplies so if you need anything...

He left that hanging for a moment, waiting for a reply before leaving with the prankster Spirit.


----

Hey Franko, did you see the news? The Star are breaking out the Freeze Foam in a big way, I figure there's going to be a big market for Alkahest shortly. Can you get me some? Some of the precursors too or instead? I'm in the market for a Hazmat suit too, that Lael is great stuff but it's a pain in the arse to handle once it's mixed with a solvent. My offer still stands on that, if you can source the precursors of Lael I can supply you enough of the finished product to make you forget the Awakening ever happened. - Flashbang

Flashbang texted his Fixer on the new 'link he'd picked up at his favourite all-night hardware store. Then he loaded his haul into the back of the beat-up old Everglades and headed off to the lab.

----

Several hours later he peeled one of the new Gas-Masks off his face to inspect his work. Not bad, not bad at all. Two dozen drinks cans, mostly 'diet', were packed in one crate and couple of paint tins were packed in the other. And no headache thanks to the Gas Mask. Thanks to his new Spirit friend he still had all his fingers too. He made a mental note not to handle detonators when still running on the adrenaline and caffeine high of a riot again....

Right then Alfred, back to the bat-cave....

----


He plonked the crate down on the map table and looked around hopefully for some pizza.

OK folks. It's been a few hours, I'm sure you are all just stoked and ready to roll.

What we have here is my beverage of choice, Erithrytol Tetranitrate, or ETN for short. It's highly carbonated so try not to shake the cans too hard, comprende?

I've brought two varieties, Diet and Full-Fat, mostly Diet 'cos it's better for your health, long term.

Diet is for people. They won't like it but it probably won't kill them. Effective radius of effect is four to five meters, beyond that 'impact' will tail off dramatically but I don't recommend having less than ten meters or a stout wall between you and one when it activates which will be about 3 seconds after you 'open' it with the supplied tab.

Full-Fat is for vehicles. Don't waste your time serving one to a Citymaster, you'll just anger it, but anything smaller will think it's just to die for. Other than that same advice as for the Diet version but if you are going to be close to it I recommend a stouter wall than for Diet.

I've brought along some stiffer drinks for the Citymasters that ought to be right up their alley. Which would be a good place to serve them I reckon.

Any questions?

Flash I could use a cheap comlink and a place to to crash. Other than that I need to get my head around this place and get to know a few people in the know.

Crizh:

`Well Doc, feel free to settle in, you've hit just in time for our convalescence period. Time for all revolutionaries to take some time to get their ducks in a row and ready for shooting.`

Wheeling away from the door, Johnny wanders off to find a corner to sit in, calling up a few windows in the AR to thread up some messages.

In the first window, he patches into an obscure little node, buried away within a legitimate edifice, a leach on the system of a legal forum. After exchanging passcodes and virtual handshakes, he checks his watchlist, filtering out the usual pandering to him, and then opens up a new discussion thread:



Tagging the post with his signature shattered glass and flames signature, he flips his attention to his other window, the one that's already called up to send a quick text to his old pal Two-Cell.



As quick as he's sent it, he flits to another window. Calling up a protocol written by a fast-friend with a steadier code-hand than him, he tunnels in to the Federal Beaureu of Prisons, and opens his old account, still jammed open from the weeks before. Logging in, he opens a message protcol and sends a quick ConDate message to Tiffany, that lonely little Elven Exec.



Scrubbing the link, he flickers open one last window. This one's a text only to Father O'Rourke, opening the way he always does, because he knows it'll cause the good Father to grumble.



Sitting back, his eyes flicker over to the chronometer of his image display. Two minutes to send the messages, and the boys won't be back for a little while. Scrubbing all of the windows down to one, he reaches out for a soybeer and brings up the scanned map. He's got enough time he's going to start corelating those unknown spots with a little good old fashion Matrix data searching.

-----

There is sadly no pizza when Flashbang sets the crate down on the table. Johnny's been too immersed in looking over the map and putting his mind to targets. The speach drags him out of his data-stupor, though, and he logs out of his searches, standing to walk on over and check the cans out.

`Well now, looks like we're sporting some fine boom boom. All we need now is to pick an ambush spot, and see who we can drag into the trap. I'm itching to get a shiny new set of cop-wheels to batter all to hell and use as a chariot.`

After looking over the areas he knows for a good spot, Krank decides that along Highway 419 would probably be a good place to stage this to go down. Doing this in the middle of corp territory should get them all the attention they needed. Bringing up an AR map of the area, he sketches in a couple of rough symbols showing what he considers to be the best spot, right in the middle of the Star patrol area and surrounded by Corp holdings. The actual ambush site is represented by a large smiley face while escape routes feature crude animated bikers driving away. Krank is now happy with his masterpiece of a map.

OK fellas, I think i have a good place in mind to stage this. Anyone wanna see my map and i can send it to 'em. Along the Auburn-Puyallup on Highway 419 there is a good spot, its right in amongst all of the corp holdings and right near the barrens too, our part of town so we should easy get away with this. And they are definitely going to notice us. Johnny, i think the place is full of wageslaves if you wanna try and get something started up there. If we can get even a small riot started when i bring the star in it should give us plenty of oppurtunities and distract the star no-end. Hell, they might even panic after that last one! Get 'em on the back foot!

Digital Herion:

They won't panic but they will be pumped and full of adrenaline. They'll over-react and make mistakes. If we can anger them and get them to escalate they'll follow us as we flee. We need to prep two good, obvious escape routes that won't look suspicious and will confine the vehicles and force them over the booby traps.

Smaller devices can keep lighter vehicles and troopers at bay while we deal with the crew and extract the vehicle. We'll need to do something to discourage pursuit or further escalation

Good idea. Right then I can take a "shortcut" to any place I've been so I could act as eyes.

Thoughts are rebounding off of Johnny's skull like marbles in a glass jar. Plinking about with abandon while he starts to walk himself into a frenzy again. Plans upon plans upon rambling diatribes with a dash of punk lyrics. It's staccato synapse firing and he's working up to all pistons go. Visibly he's shaking, he's pacing, and he's ready to roll.

Somewhere along the way he's grabbed up a chunk of rebar from the detrius about the place. Nothing weapon-worthy, just a forearm length of it. A street-swaggerstick, if you will. He's got it propped under his arm like an old-timey General as he paces, but stopping he points it to Krank.

`Let's see that map. We find a fuzzshack nearby we can figure out where they'll be responding from. Call in a riot or somesuch down the freeway. We get 'em on there and there's only offramps to run to.`

Tossing out an invite to his PAN for a transfer of maps, he twists about on one heel, looking to Flashbang.

`If you've got enough to booby-trap two or three offramps, that buys us plenty of room to herd 'em where we want. They go elsewise, we give 'em a shock.`

To Unwin he turns, a grin on his face.

`Think you can cook up something to stop 'em when they come to our chokepoint? Something that'll rattle them up but keep the ride fairly intact.`

He's really rolling by now, so much so he's sweating with anticipation.

`El Medico and I can rustle up a bit of a welcome party, see to it the fuzz get seperated from their rides. We play this right we might even score us a few... I say we hit them at civil twilight. Heard once that's the best time for dropping bowling balls on people. Run it right and we've got a party date after the witching hour with an old friend of mine and a load of broadcast equipment.`

Before we go any further we need to answer the most important question.

What are we going to call ourselves?

Johnny, I assume you want to be the 'face' of our little army here but I think the rest of us should stay anonymous. I picked these up at the hardware store. I thought they might make a kinda 'virtual' uniform whilst keeping our identities a mystery.

Flashbang opens the other box he had brought in with him to reveal a number of gas-masks in various primary colours.

Johnny's got to grin when he sees the masks. The image of a group of anonymous revolutionaries hiding behind one of the most iconic wartime symbols of all time was just too good to pass up on. It was taking The Man's own face, and showing it back to him. Mirrored full face visors wouldn't have been as right and cool.

`I like it. Hell, I like it a lot... and I say we evoke the name of the father of shared community himself. Call ourselves Freedom Under the Consent of Karl. Marx would approve of this uprising against the decedant upper-class, and nothing's quite as punk as saying fuck the man.`

Eyes flitting side to side as he studies the ambush point, he zooms the map out to compare it to the scan of the marked-up map laid out on the table. Looking for a nearby police station, he pulls up a window to run a quick Matrix search for that precinct. He's got a bit of an idea rolling in his head, but it's still in formation. For the moment he shuffles it off to the side, discounting it as too wild. Can't hack a cop car without knowing where one is.

`Ok, let's get to riot stations folks. Unwin, if you stake out the rooftop of that building you should have a clear view of the offramp and the schoolyard below. I'll see about rallying some people together in the schoolyard for a nice lure. Flashbang, we'll need something ready to breach the wagon, but something we can fix after. Maybe just something to handle the fuzz themselves when they get out.`

He taps his forehead, considering something.

`Krank, if I make a call citing possible go-gang violence in the area, you up for getting the cops down just the offramp we want?`

He's back to boiling again, moving like his feet are on fire. Even as he speaks he's opening up a window to an Anarchist messageboard, handshaking and establishing his old Mr. Molotov handle, calling for a 'family reunion' at the school near the ambush site.

`If there's nothing more we need... I think we're ready to wreck a little havok folks...`

I'll get to scouting out the area. So I have a few places to "jump" to if needed.

WHUMP! KRAKOOM!!

And with that, an errant bullet from a far away firefight hits El Medico, splattering what used to be his head all over Flashbang. Well, there goes the medical support. Lucky for you lot, he had his PILE of gear on him.

So, who's got flexible morals?

for those inclined to loot anything and everything, the good Doctor's corpse has all of this on it:

[ Spoiler ]

Colt America L36 150$
4 Pistol Clips(with ammo) 100$
Armor Vest 600$
Erika Elite 2500$
Iris Orb 1000$
Fake Sin 1 1000$
Fake License (Pistol) 2 200$
Biomonitor 300$
5 Disposable Syringes 50$
Medkit 6 600$
6 Med Kit Suplies 300$
Antidote Patch R2, 4 600$
Stimulant Patch R2, 4 200$
6 Trauma Patches 3000$
Survival Knife 50$
Glasses with visual Enhancement 3 325$
Glasses with Vision Magnification 125$

The poor slot. That comlink is mine. Flash you ok? Me thinks you need to clean up. Look after that com while I do some astral scouting.

Johnny's just about to say something. When isn't he? He's gearing up when there's the soggy thwump of slug impacting cranium and El Medico's brain exiting stage left. For the barest of moments he pauses. He's about to say something different when Unwin chimes in, and he pauses again, face screwing up into a bit of a scowl.

`Way off base, man. He was a soldier of the cause. One of us. He was... well... I'm not even sure who he was. Plus if anyone's gonna snake the commlink it should be me. That things got the old beater the boys gave me stepping out of the joint shaded up by a notch or two. I can donate to the cause and give you mine, though. Copy of the programs and all.`

He pauses a moment, and looks to Flashbang.

`Um, Flash... you've got a little... yeah.`

A kind of blinking pause, and he opens up his AR map to mark the local as "where the Doc cacked it" and then he's back in swing again.

`Clean up, gear up, we've gotta get moving. Dodge is unfriendly right now, and we need to get to Kansas and make a little unfriendly of our own.`

All the while he's eyeing the pistol the Doc's got, too, considering.

OK, that Off-ramp looks cool. I'll need to pick up some bits and pieces, we'll gear up as construction workers and pack the packages in Traffic Cones. Here, here, here and here.

As he talks Flashbang points at a number of locations on the map on the table.

The AV stuff on the highway to funnel the cops down where we want them and to discourage civilians from getting in the way. These Stun Grenades to take down any Cops who flee on foot after the two big ones, here and here, crack the Big Kahuna.

Only the two big bombs have remote detonators, so what I suggest is that Unwin sets the other ones off as needed. He can pull the pins and just fade back into the Astral where it's nice and safe.

Krank, you take this lot and use it to encourage the cops to follow you and to bring some heavy hitters. Keep them inside your jacket or something though in case you get caught in one of the explosions.

Flashbang counts out half a dozen drinks cans and passes them to Krank.

Dumori

With the plan ready, it's time to move onto the ambush. With luck, it'll go flawlessly. With bad luck, there's going to be one HELL of a response from LoneStar.

Time for action guys. I assume you all know your parts.