Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 4 April 2070

The Suit, Max, Jairus, Artisan, Mataglap, Tallon
Two days ago, an automated message arrived from a chain restaurant in Snohomish confirming a dinner reservation made in your name this Friday. When you spoke with him earlier, Will mentioned a dinner meeting on Friday... this style of confirmation keeps with what you remember from your last job with him, a couple of years ago.

Today's drizzle is clean, and the air is sharp and cold with a late winter breeze. This particular Bennigan's is built into a first floor corner of a half-occupied 7-story office building owned by some local bank (owned by some other almost-certainly-not-local something or another). The AR overlay of the building copies some older version of the downtown "Emerald City" shtick, and a discreet ARO points you to a real estate company acting as an agent for the assorted unoccupied offices. The restaurant is unremarkable - the same decor as every other Bennigan's (and probably half a dozen other franchises re-marketed under different names). As you walk in, a couple AROs appear on your throwaway commlink advertising today's special and leading you to your seats. About halfway through your trip to the seat, the ARO suddenly shifts and takes you to a service door near the restroom.

The service door opens into the functional, drab, and passably clean fire escape stairwell, remarkably free from graffiti or plastic beer bottles. A short flight below you leads to a landing with the ground level (alarm will sound) emergency exit and caged-off basement access stair; the ARO points upstairs two flights towards the third floor.

The third floor service door opens onto a plain, off-white-paint-on-stucco-walls-nauseating-green-carpet-and-fiberglass-vented-roof office hallway, complete with a couple glass-paneled office entry doors with real estate agent AROs and pasted notices. Wedged into the end of the hallway, by the door to one of the for-lease office blocks, is an enormous troll in a long, light rain jacket. A small puddle of water registers under his shoes and the corners of the rain jacket. He slouches against the wall, trying to fit into a hallway that he can't stand fully upright in. There's the telltale bulge of a long-gun under his coat, but his arms are folded against his chest and he registers your approach with a flick of his eyes towards the door beside him.

Behind him is an office foyer, with plastic wrapped furniture and windows reinforced with storm tape. To the left is an open door to a meeting room. Will stands inside, looking slightly wet and politely cheerful.

Wayland
Yesterday you got the message you were expecting, from a prepaid commcode, sending you to a specific public access terminal at 2130 on Friday and giving a short, encrypted access code to enter. Navigating through the brazenly commercialized and cross-marketed "Modern-Train-Station" themed Bell-Pacific Telecom matrix domain takes longer than it should, mostly because of the spam; but the train eventually gets off at the 4-146-7-QC stop in Snohomish. The public access terminal is stylized as a panoramic window (grabbing the feed from the security camera on the actual box and the Seattle Metropolitan AR-overlay) with a virtual keyboard beneath.

The access code itself causes the terminal to load a faux-hardwood-paneled door ostentatiously into the middle of the panoramic window, complete with the border aliasing that indicates a third-party graphic overlay. A new, open, broadband communication port with restricted version information registers to your account.

Traveling through this new port feels like wading through peanut butter (or so you imagine); the port itself only primitively interfaces with the public access terminal and whatever is carrying the signal is more limited in bandwidth. As you load yourself into the new system, you find yourself coming through a panel door into a dingy, identically-faux-hardwood-paneled room. The room has a meshed-together style, depicting a glass door leading into the foyer of an office and a circle of plastic office chairs. Will is seated in one of them. He greets you, but the voice (though it is represented as coming from him), actually comes from... hmm... a microphone on whatever device you're loaded into. There is no 'him' on the system, nor any other open comm ports. There's about five input streams from various cameras, the room microphone, and output ports for a holo-projector and speaker... whatever you're loaded into is actually a slick little gizmo. As other people appear on the cameras, Will turns to you, and the microphone says "won't you close the door behind you, Wayland?"

@All

Jill's Apartment, Seattle
15:58, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus
She comes home tired and oblivious, throwing her shoes to the side as she begins unbuttoning her waitress uniform.

The scent of cooked food turns her head, and for a moment I see the smile of the young woman I had come to see. But the years pile back on, her eyes are guarded as she looks for me. I step into the faux candlelight.

"Dinner?" I asked as I move closer in. I undo the rest of her buttons, letting my left hand and the ring that never leaves this house rest on her cheek. She turns in to my palm and kisses it.

She looks at me accusingly, then sighs.

The dinner gets cold.

----

I look at her, my chrome eyes taking in every curve in the low light of her room. I walk closer, gently sitting beside her and letting her feel the ring on my left hand one last time as I move to kiss her--but I stare at her petite body instead, moving my eyes from her toes up to that face I simply can't get enough of. To the lips, the warm cheeks, that brow...

I kiss her on the forehead, breathing her in. I ignore the whispered "Loser", she mutters it more to herself these days. Oh how I want to kiss her lips instead.

The ring comes off easily this time. I leave it on the drawer at the foot of her bed, along with two credsticks with a hundred in each.

I turn my commlink off. Ethan De Guzman sleeps here tonight. My true 'link flicks on, reminding me of a dinner reservation with Will in a few hours' time. I wonder if I'll get to eat at that dinner.

Leaving, I glance at the untouched food and put it all into the box. She always wakes up hungry.


Manuel Morris' Apartment, Sur Mere, Near The Barrens
18:37

My black and yellow Dodge Scoot whines slightly as it powers off. I lock it in the squalor's mostly abandoned garage, not really caring if it gets stolen.

This hole was the home of one Manuel Morris--one of my temporary alter-egos--a part-time commlink salesman in a nearby mall. Earns enough for the room and the landlord looks the other way when things come and go that are just a bit too nice for Mr. Morris to own. Ever since "Manny" got the family on the second floor to not yell at each other so much, more for the sake of his own sleepless nights than anything else, the old ork lady had grown warmer.

Manuel would get nods now instead of gruff growls when they saw each other in the hallway.

His apartment had no windows but plenty of room, a decent tradeoff considering he did have access to the secondary maintenance hallway.Being on the ground floor also meant Manny had his own storage area: a square hole cut into the ground.

Two exits and a hideaway were more than I expected out of the Sur Mere.

I had showered quickly at Jill's but now I pat my body down with wipes, balling them up to be thrown into the building incinerator on the way out.

From the closet I brought out "The Suit", that is my new Actioneer business clothes fresh back from the "tailor's". Taking the Actioneer out of its packaging, I deftly slid in the unused Ares Predator IV into its own concealed holster. That was the one they were meant to find.

The Colt Government 2066, customized of course, tucked right into the suit's own holster. Two clips, one of Hi-C plastic the other of Ex-ex rounds disappear within the suit's folds.

Not that I expect any shenanigans out of Will.

But it has been a few years.


Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 1 April 2072

It's always a troll.

I flash a comradely smile. A little abashed, a little "I've been there too omae" even though I hadn't as I take in the surroundings.

As I make my way towards him I carefully stretch out my senses, looking him and the room over. I look for something, anything that speaks "not-of-Will" from what I could recall.



I stop a few steps in front of the troll, enough to not invade his ample personal space and far enough away that I can spring back and unload the Colt.

"Evening," I offer with the smile, "I have a reservation."

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:16, Friday, 4 April 2070

Jairus

The troll, by way of greeting, makes eye contact with you for a second, looks you over, and says "You're good. Go ahead." You can acknowledge the barest flicker of a hand-wave before he returns to his sulk.

The office behind is normal, and functional - metal filing cabinets, three plastic desks covered in clear dust tarps. There's a nice enough door that opens into a faux-hardwood-paneled office to the left; an office that screams "lawyer", despite the plastic fold-out table and folding chairs arranged in a rough circle. Aside from that, it seems like nobody's been in this office for a while - empty bookshelves with a thin layer of dust, no desk or sofa, the rest. The window behind where the desk should be is obscured by a cheap rain jacket neatly sealed around it.

There's a couple fold out tables on the side, with some self-heating aluminum covered trays, a small coffee pot, a six-pack, and two bottles of wine. The foldout chairs are circled around a functional stool with a holo projector on it, and there's a substantially fancier holo-projector-gizmo thing sitting on one of the folding chairs. Will stands to greet you, nursing a hot cup of coffee in his left hand and offering you his right. He looks exactly like you remember him - short, glasses, expensive suit with starched collar. He has lost some hair. "Welcome, Jairus. How have you been? Is life with the ex well? I am glad to see you. Treat yourself to refreshments."

White Alder Condominiums, N 36th Street, Tacoma
2:00,Thursday, 31 March 2072

Max

Max heads into the lobby of his condo, trying to remember to keep it together, to stay low key, But the amount of Nova coke he was riding on electrified everything around him. He walked past the sleepy night watchman with a smile and a nod as he tried to keep his mind busy. He thought about the two young Mitsuhama suites he just took to the cleaners at the casino. They lost their shirts, bought all the drugs, and still wanted to invest in old Max's "Tax shelter". He ran the numbers as he waved to the desk clerk. the elevator around the corner slid open as Max approached and the world suddenly melted. Everything turned grey and purple and hazey. everything except the woman on the elevator. She glowed liked the moon, and max was suddenly aware that she was bored and a little angry.
"What's your problem?" she muttered as Max stared in confusion. He suddenly realized he was staring into the astral plane.This was still very new to him. He mentaly went through the hermetic manuals he had been reading, as he smiled at the woman leaving the elevator,"No problem, the night is young and so are we, am i right?" She couldn't help but smile and let out little laugh.
Back in his appartment, a message was waiting on his home node. Bennigan's, he thought, At least I got a little time to get my self together. He left a few notes for himself about the Suites from the casino, Washed himself off a bit, and headed back downstairs. The night is young. He decided to try and catch up with his new friend in the elevator.

White Alder Condominiums, N 36th Street, Tacoma
14:00, Friday, 1 April 2072

Waking up in his own bed, max looked around for company, but no one was there. Good, I didn't bring her back here. He tries to avoid that kind of situation, but he doesn't always succeed. He remembered the Meet. All he needed was a new commlink and a clean suite. plenty of time.


Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 1 April 2072

Max gave the front of his new suite a quick tug, It fit great and the Streetline special tucked under his arm seemed undetectible, to him anyway. He loaded his back up SIN onto the dummy comm. and transfered his cab driver a decent tip. He made his way through the resteraunt with a quick detour to the restroom. He pulled a small silver tube from his pocket and unscrewed the top. Time for a little of the old "A-Game". He snorted the novacoke in one quick shot and checked his hair in the mirror.The rest of the walk through the place was far more excitng. He got to the troll and looked him up and down with a smile,"Damn, you are like the toughest son of a bitch I have ever seen, Are you a great dragon in disguise? seriously, you can tell me, You better get paid good, I would snatch you up in a heart beat, I bet I can't even afford what you make." Thinking about Dragons, Max decided to check things out in the asteral plane.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 1 April 2072

Max

The troll locks eyes with you. "In there. My pay is my problem. Yours is his." Nods over his right shoulder, then seems to exert an almost physical effort to get back to ignoring you, which he seems to be far more comfortable with.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:45, Friday, 1 April 2072

Artisan

When Will had mentioned dinner last Friday, Artisan had something a little more upscale in mind. He had cleared his schedule, and made some calls to make sure his standing reservations around town were in place. He had only recently arrived back in Seattle - having spent the last few months in Asia - and he was rather busy setting up his new gallery downtown. If it wasn't Will, he wouldn't have made the time - but Artisan had worked with him, before, and establishing a good relationship with a local contact was an important part of re-spinning his social web. Therefore, Artisan wasn't surprised when an unexpected dinner reservation confirmation arrived. He was, however, disappointed when he arrived at the address, on Friday night.

He was late, on purpose, and when his limousine pulled up in front of the building, Artisan could not believe the AR signs pushing for his attention. "Bennigan's"? There must have been a mix-up. His driver opened the door for him, and Artisan emerged onto the street, shielding his face, somewhat, as though expecting a barrage of flash-photography - and not wanting to be seen at a Bennigan's. Aside from a confused-looking teenager in a uniform, who was holding open the door to the restaurant, there did not seem to be anyone waiting for his arrival. Then, an ARO appeared, directing him towards his seat - the local node had probably picked up his public commlink, and cross-referenced that with his reservation. He signaled to his driver that he could go now, and the limo pulled away.

A number of patrons, who were sitting near the front windows, took a short break from forcing shmeat into their mouths to gawk outside at the limo, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever celebrity had arrived. None of them recognized Artisan, of course - but a few of them lifted commlinks to snap pictures of whoever it was, regardless, hoping it was someone important. As Artisan entered the restaurant, the wait-staff made way for him. They could see that he already had a reservation, but they were also somewhat taken aback by his distinctive appearance. Today, Artisan was draped in something that resembled a mix between a green business suit, and green silk robes. The look was very avant-garde, and probably went well over the heads of the onlookers - but it was also obviously expensive. In AR, his commlink (which was running in public mode for this purpose) offered up an impressive array of Body-shop ™ accessories, hot off the market this morning. His eyes were covered by shades, despite the sun being down, and he marched passed the throngs of customers with an air of someone who considered themselves far too high-class to be eating at a tchotchke-restaurant, on a Friday night.

To Artisan's relief, no sooner had he gotten to the table, and seen that it was empty, the ARO switched targets, and led him out of the nearest available exit. After climbing a few more stairs than Artisan would have preferred, he found himself wandering the halls of an abandoned office-building, wondering what, exactly, Will had in mind for the evening. As his elusive ARO led him deeper, his excitement grew. He passed the enormous troll without a glance, and entered the final room, where Will sat at a small collection of fold-up chairs, with a number of other people whom Artisan had not met. The scene was enough to make Artisan pause at the door. This was, if possible, worse than Bennigan's. They were arranged on patio-furniture, near some fold-out tables holding self-heating TV dinners and a six-pack of swill. Artisan noticed a couple of bottles of wine, but did not catch the labels - there was some hope in the fact that the wine was not in a box.

Will stood and greeted him, as he had done when each of the guests had arrived, and Artisan kissed lightly near both of the man's cheeks. "Good to see you again, Will." Artisan smiled. "When you mentioned dinner tonight, I had expected something a little more... intimate." Will didn't have time to react before Artisan added, "Well, you certainly have my attention...."

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:16, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus

I smile back warmly, gripping his right hand in mine. No strength plays, just a greeting between old associates. "Will! It's been too long." I exclaimed, and not missing a beat. "We're doing well enough," I lied. "Thank you."

Nodding towards the food, I add, "And I don't mind if I do."

On my way to the fold-out tables I peer into the astral and use the few moments I can politely steal while stuffing my face. Will. He knew too much, as always. It almost took me by surprise till I remembered the business Will was in.

"I admit, if he didn't know about such an easy secret as my screwed up relationship I'd be a little disappointed in him," I tell myself. "Actually, I'd have walked away knowing Will had lost his edge."

I grab a cup of soycaf, and peer into the room and at the man that brought me here. He'd expect me to do this, and so far everything has gone Will's way. Let's see what else he can orchestrate.

Mataglap


Finally the last of his Alpha test group had been flushed out of Johnny Cabs' emergency accommodation. The Paydata had fetched a good price and with the auction over the 'actors' were as safe from retribution as they were ever going to be.

He'd salvaged the run as best he could but it was still a massive clusterfrak. He'd be paying Johnny Cabs for months to cover the costs incurred. The team could go back to doing Milk Runs for other fixers until they had a lot more experience. Maybe in six months to a year he'd give them one more chance but they were going to have to impress or their bodies were going to end up in his room-mate's freezer.

He almost had enough cash to pay Johnny Cabs off but he needed it for his own operations, they would just have to make do with interest payments until cash-flow looked better.

The Koreans were notorious for their lack of a sense of humour about being ripped off so he had known he would have to clean his entire code-base as soon as the first tracer hit the team's bumbling 'hacker', a term he felt was used most wrongly to describe the slitch in question.

He'd had to get on the Warezhouse servers and download a whole new package of software tools. He started off with a new Focus Amp which he burned and slotted straight away.

Mataglap smiled as the icy calm descended upon him like a welcoming blanket. He skated effortlessly through dozens of directories and sub-directories divorced from the panic, frustration and annoyance that had been a distracting background hum in his mind a moment ago.

It didn't take him long to get what he needed, although he was disappointed by the shortage of high end code. Recent crack-downs and a server move following a 'well-poisoning' incident meant there was little cutting-edge to be had.

He settled down to reconfiguring his servers and pondered how he was going to go about sourcing replacements for all the sweet toys he had just flushed down the digital toilet.

Later he ran the brass and mahogany effect fingers of his Cyber-hand over his shaved pate and smiled, tuskily, to himself as he read Will's dinner invitation. Ask and ye shall receive was the saying and right here was the perfect opportunity to drum up some biz.

With two days to kill he could replenish some of the emergency supplies he had recently expended. It was time to do some home cooking...



The drive down to Snohomish had been pleasant. The chill winter air and light drizzle had been invigorating. He had stood in the back of the two-seater Jeep, his hands gripped tight to the roll bar, while the drizzle had streamed across his outsize aviator's googles. He liked to envisage himself a modern day Phileas Fogg boldly striding into the great unknown in his neo-Victorian Vashon Island tog's. He looked rather like a crazed mix of Indiana Jones, Doc. Brown and an Uruk-hai.

Aouda was something to behold, he'd had the stock Thundercloud Morgan retro-fitted with an amazing Steampunk body-kit which neatly disguised the up-rated armour. He'd done the same with both his drones, giving them an almost toy-like quality that belied the techno-wizardry going on behind the facade of brass, teak and strange dials.

All had been named after characters in Jules Verne's classic 'Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours' and Mataglap had gone as far as to have the Morgan fitted with a brass nameplate like an old fashioned locomotive. Mr Fix, his Manservant based 'handy-man', was safely ensconced in Aouda's armoured driving enclosure and Passepartout, his home-made roving hub was secured in the cargo compartment.

Bennigan's was an odd choice of venue for Will so Mataglap spent a few spare moments, when he wasn't admiring the pastoral idyll of Snohomish as it slid past, to do a little cyber-digging into the chain, the particular restaurant they were meeting in and the nearby businesses.




Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:16, Friday, 1 April 2070

He was a strange sight, swaggering into the restaurant with his ornate cane, long leather coat and flying goggles around his neck, being trailed by a robotic butler and dog but before surprised glances had turned to stares he had swept out through the service exit.

Hmmm, stairs. I don't see this turning into a nice meal either.

Mr Fix followed him as he made his way cautiously up the stairs, his senses on red alert but the little converted Doberman was forced to run up the wall on it's Gecko adapted wheels.

The big Troll was a good focal point but Mataglap made a point of paying as much attention to every facet of his surroundings. The core of hiding things in plain sight was giving the observer something more interesting to look at.

At least that's what his instructors had said about a hundred million times...

Evenin' mate. I'm expected.

He took his time looking the big trog up and down as he listened to the unexpected list of demands.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:16, Friday, 4 April 2070

Jairus



Mataglap

You walk into the hall as someone else is walking into the room behind. The troll holds a hand up as you greet him. "You're invited. Those ain't." Points to the drones. "Take the battery packs out of them, leave them in the corner, there. Leave the battery packs on the desk." Points to a corner in the entrance room pointing away from the door to the meeting office, and a desk in full view of his post. The troll moves to the other side of the hall, so he has a view into the corner where he told you to put the drones and a view down the entrance hall.

Mataglap

Mr Fix can wait in the car but Passepartout stays with me. Take it or leave it.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 1 April 2072

Tallon
Tallon sighs boredly as he stares out the window and watches the rain fall. Business has been very, very slow since he was contacted by Will. Absently, he wonders whether Will had something to do with the general absence of new work.

Tallon wouldn't put it past him. It's certainly something to look into... but not right now. Right now, the time has come to prepare for what promised to be a most profitable dinner.

Twenty minutes later, Tallon trudges into Bennigan's, blending in with the stream of wageslaves entering for their evening meal. He absently watches the feed from his tie-clip micro cam's empathy software as he follows the ARO through the restaurant and through the service door.

As Tallon ascends the stairs, the wear-and-tear of the day seems to melt off him as the charisma that got him to this point returned to the fore of his being. Upon entering the third floor hall, his nose wrinkles slightly for a moment as he takes in the nauseatingly green carpet. He shifts the feed from his empathy software to cover the carpet as he makes his way towards the troll. Who would choose a decor like that, honestly?

"Evenin', mate," He greets the troll as he passes into the room. He immediately makes his way into the meeting room and nods to Will. "Evenin', Will. Lovely weather we're havin', eh?" He nods a greeting to the others, but doesn't go out of his way to make conversation with anyone else.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:16, Friday, 4 April 2070

Mataglap

"Hmm." The troll covers his mouth with his hand, and subvocalizes something to it. He then looks into space for a second, and stares at the Doberman for a few seconds. "Aight, the little one can go in. Send the man-sized one down the stairwell and out the exit door, 'stead of the restaurant." Another guy passes you in while the troll makes up his mind; at least the goon is able to register, consider, and ignore him while holding you up.

The troll finally waves you in, through the office and into the meeting room. The door of the room definitely looks like it will more or less seal - even the paneling on the other side is designed to look like part of the wall. Tasteful enough, given the american-style faux 19th century look a hardwood paneled office will go for. Will notices you incoming, and smiles. "Forgive my guard. I pay him for violence, rather than courtesy or patience, and I get nothing extra. I hope you find the rest satisfactory."



Tallon

You notice the troll, and another guy - ogre - make you as soon as you walk into the hall. They seem to be in the middle of something. The troll looks you over as you walk by, but says nothing.

As you walk into the impromptu-outfitted meeting room, Will turns from talking with another, normally attired human to greet you. "Welcome in, Tallon. I can complain about the rain, but I would rather not. Please meet Jairus, one of my colleagues. How is business these days? Did the opening of that little transportation concern go off well?"

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:17, Friday, 1 April 2072

Max

After a quick hello to Will, Max lifted his shades to his head and wandered over to the food and gave it a once over. He didn't feel like eating, but he also didn't feel like sitting down just yet. He popped some Betel gum and looked over Will and The man he was talking to both Astraly and physicaly.

When Will moved to talk to the Orc that just Entered, Max popped his mirrored sunglassesback down and went over to introduce himself to the other guy,"Jarius is it? Hi, Max Broman's the name, Investment management's my game. How about you? what are into? you worked with Will before? " Max smiled and extended a hand,the sleeves of his suite pushed back to his elbows.

Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:17, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus

I watch as a man greets Will and stands by the corner.

Satisfied with Will's state I wolf down the select bits of food I managed to put on my plate. Etiquette be damned, it was a mistake to come to a meet hungry. I drift my astral sight to the newcomer. Then I fade into gray, as I call it, and return to my mundane senses and give the man a once-over.



"Will, I trust business has been well? I can tell you that this town hasn't been quite the same since you left." It wasn't a lie. Will was utterly reliable on being Will, Seattle's shadows lacked that certain consistency I always felt he brought.

<<Waits for response, and for Tallon to enter>>

I watch as the man with the 'shades ambles over. Using my control over my body's language, I give off a sincere interest as I take his hand in mine. "Great to meet you, Max. Investment huh? No, not my forté. I deal with... well, deals." I pause slightly and gesture. "Middle management, mostly."

"I've worked with Will a few years back and I assume you have as well?"

I nod to Max as I hear Will introduce me to the ork. I walk up, making eye-contact and communicating respect and openness, and offer my hand. "Hello, Tallon. Horrid weather huh? Jairus. The soycaf's good if you want some."

Jared Engles' Condo, On the Greens Condominiums, 17526 151 Ave SE, Renton, Seattle
19:35, Wednesday, 31 March 2072

The Suit

The confirmation message had been received earlier in the day, but had not met the stringent requirements of his office nexus filter settings. It had come from an unknown commcode belonging to a chain business which marked it as spam. Spam directly addressed to Jared was set to forward to his home nexus for later review. Throughout most of the day Jared had been in meetings both virtual and physical, as he was most every day. He simply did not have the time to spare for what could be a restaurant menu and an advertisement for specials.

Jared had left the office early that afternoon, not bothering to head home as he had a tee time at the Fairway Greens and three clients to share it with. To be late would be both rude and unprofessional. Eighteen holes, as was custom, had given way to diner and a few drinks which meant that even though he lived in a building right on the first tee he was only able to finally get home at half past, and had only stepped out of the elevator moments ago.

Upon his arrival to his condo the opacity of the window shifts to allow the evening sun in and Chopin alights his virtual music channel. As his headware commlink syncs to the condo's nexus he goes about the business of taking a shower, vetting several unwanted messages, forwarding a few low priority ones to various interns and assistants, and indexing the others by priority before coming across the confirmation message catches his attention. He had spoken with Will that morning from the office and the companyman had mentioned diner on Friday. Diner reserved in this manner could only mean business. Business his interns would not be handling.

While he towels his hair dry, Jared sends a message to Gabriel confirming tonight's arrangements and to inform his bodyguard there will be a small bit of shopping to be done at his leisure in the next twenty four hours. He does not detail the items to be purchased, however. That can wait until the drive to pick up Dinah. With the message sent he heads into the kitchen to retrieve a mug of coffee before sitting down on his balcony to enjoy the last of the sunlight while he reads over the priority messages in greater detail.

Tonight was a gala opening for the Seattle Opera's summer season - which seemed to be coming early this year - and while it promised to be an entertaining night he still had business to finish before he left.


Bennigan's, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:15, Friday, 1 April 2072

The Suit

The drive from Renton was as pleasant as you could expect several hours in the back of a Range Rover to be. Work, of course, traveled without concern for traffic or location, tucked carefully away inside of his head. Ever since the fallout from Tempo hitting the streets his legitimate business had been booming, so he was not without something to keep him busy for the commute.

When Gabriel informs him that they are drawing close to their destination he concludes all business, places his messaging filters on, and sets his PAN to hidden mode. It is only then that he picks up the package that had been left on he seat next to him, unwrapping a cheap throw-away commlink, which he would using for the meeting and potentially for the duration of the job. That, of course, would depend on the nature of the work.

Upon arrival at Bennigan's Gabriel moves to exit the car, but a hand on the shoulder from Jared stops him. This is a diner appointment at a chain restaurant. It would not do to come with a bodyguard in tow, even if he was a well known figure about town. Jared instructs Gabriel to find a place to park nearby, and to follow shortly after him and see if he can get a table of his own on a Friday evening without a reservation. He then exits the car unfolding an umbrella ahead of himself, and makes his way to the restaurant.

Following the chain of ARO directions without pause, as if he had intended to make for the service door all along, Jared uses the time in the stairwell to compose his features. When he arrives to the third floor, and confronts the troll, it is with a blank slate of features, professionally distant, barely an emotion registering upon his face. He pauses inside of the office, taking in the sight of those already gathered, silent, just another face int he crowd. While he is at most pressing the time of the meeting, it seems he is not the first to arrive.

Mataglap

The ogre smiles at the troll and briefly lapses into Or'zet.

I don't mean to be a jerk, you're just doing your job.

He pats Mr Fix on the shoulder and switches back to English.

Head back to the car and wait for me there, I shouldn't be long, you know what to do if there's any trouble.

He looked up again at the big troll and nodded respectfully before brushing past him into the meeting room.

He touched the head of his cane to his temple in a jaunty salute to Will as he entered the room.


Don't give it a second thought Will, biz is biz.

I like the cage, is that why we're meeting here? I didn't find any mention of it and nobody has spent that sort of cash doing upgrades here recently.

I prefer the paint myself. It's not perfect but it's 'good enough' for most purposes. Mr Fix could to a room like this in about 10 minutes at about 7% of the cost of a full cage.

Mataglap fixed himself a coffee and took the opportunity to carefully scan the whole room before taking a seat at the back and waiting to see what the evening had in store.

Apart from some pretty tasty paper plates....

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:31, Friday, 4 April 2070

The Suit

The troll stiffens up a little as you approach, almost seems to try and stand (which is ludicrous, given that the ceiling is 8" above his head with his knees bent), and waves you by without saying anything.

When you walk into the room, you look around, notice those present. Will gives you a brief, "Evening, Jared. Glad you could make it."



Mataglap

Your Or'zet bounces off the troll without comment or apparent recognition. As you walk in, Will smiles conspiratorially and says: "Good eye. I thought it was well done, myself. The previous occupants had it installed; we merely reap the benefits of their misplaced investments."



Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, Tallon, The Suit

Most of you chat more-or-less suspiciously for the few minutes remaining until the time of the meet, which passes. A few minutes later, as the "What the hell is going on?" vibe starts to germinate in your heads, another gentleman wearing clothes that can be described with numerous adjectives, not including 'subdued', breezes into the room and embraces Will. Your host smiles, reciprocates the familiar European greeting, and speaks up above the conversation. "Gentlemen, as I'm sure you've noticed this meeting room is extremely private. Due to some operational concerns, which I will describe once we get to details, I will be forced to prevent communications from outside this room. Please inform whatever security you have brought with you about the communications blackout; I expect it to last about an hour. I will be in the same situation with my guard, whom you all have met. We are waiting on one more guest, who will arrive by a different route."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:31, Friday, 1 April 2072

Artisan

The flamboyant man, draped in fine silk and AR icons, takes a look at the available seating with no attempt to conceal his distaste, nor does he remove his shaded glasses. For the time being, Artisan chooses to stand, and when Will suggests calling security, he begins pacing around the small room, talking to thin air. He speaks a little loudly, and it is not clear whether this is to speak above the din of everyone else making similar arrangements, or to drown them out, intentionally, but, in either case, he chooses to speak aloud, while wearing a trode-band over his ears, rather than simply thinking his commands to whoever he is calling. "Yes. Oh? Wonderful. Yes. No, don't worry about that, I am in good hands, darling. Keep your team in position, but I'm probably going to drop off of the radar for an hour or so." There is a pause, and Artisan sighs. "Yes, fabulous. Have the car waiting outside, in an hour. There won't be an after-party." As the call ends, Artisan smiles, apologetically to the rest of the room, then leans against the wall and seems to rapidly forget that anyone else is around. He stares at the back of his left hand, for a moment, examining it closely, perhaps looking at one of the 3 rings he is wearing, or watching the pattern of silver dust snaking its way up his arm in AR.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:31, Friday, 1 April 2072

Max

Max thinks about the security situation, but seeing as nobody's really waiting in the wings for old Max, He mostly Checks out his associates. He makes his way around, introducing himself to people when they weren't busy on com calls.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:31, Friday, 1 April 2072

Tallon

Tallon smiles and happily makes small talk for a while, showing genuine interest in anyone who cares to talk to him. Anyone who asks, learns that he identifies himself as a businessman in the transportation business.

Eventually, he makes his way to a chair near the head of the table and sits down, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and watching the others.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:31, Friday, 1 April 2072

The Suit

Jared abstains from small talk. With every spoken word he would reveal himself, he would give information which could be used against him. While he was a public enough figure that hiding his identity would be a fool's venture, that did not mean he was going to give people anything more than they needed from him.

Instead he watches and listens, content to wait until the task at hand begins off to himself. Just a simple, well groomed man with a personal trainer toned physique in an immaculately tailored suit.

The last arrival brings him pause, but he files it away for now. A quiet, subvocalized call to Gabriel informs him of the blackout, and Jared focuses on putting out the right signals for being The Suit, and nothing more.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:36, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, Tallon, The Suit

The moment passes to coordinate security arrangements, and drags a little further. The "what's going on?" vibe starts to translate into "what are we waiting for?". While you wait, your host moves causally over to the window and pulls some gizmo off the pane. He smooths the jacket over the window, places it on the seat with the fancy holo projector, and shuts the door.

The acoustic properties of the room change somewhat, probably the result of an expensive white noise generator. Your commlinks begin to complain of loneliness in their various boops, beeps, squelches, sexy voices, icons, or flashing icons. Will takes a seat, smiles, and starts the meeting slowly. "Gentlemen. Thank you for arriving. Before we get into details, I would like to speak about some security matters. Simply by showing up to this meeting, you are now aware of information that is sensitive to my and each others' interests. Yourselves, my colleague outside, and one other who will be dealt with separately are the only people who know that I have returned.

We are already bound by common interest and risk. If you accept employment with me, you will learn more information that is sensitive to my objectives here. This requires a significant level of trust. You will be paid, well, for this confidence; but you will be responsible for complete discretion in the outside world and subject to the risks that a breach of security entails - primarily, from those who will seek you out simply because of your association with my employer.

I am commissioned to establish a direct, discreet presence here in Seattle in order to facilitate certain interests of my employer and identify other potential interests. I have invited you here because I believe you all are uniquely talented to act as agents for these interests. You already have a good idea of what kind of duties this involves. Because of the nature of this employment, you are not free to leave at your own discretion if you agree.

If you are not interested in this employment, I am prepared to offer you a retainer of 5,000 nuyen per month simply for your silence. Payment for this job starts at a 15,000 nuyen monthly security retainer, a commission on identified business interests, and fees for specific services.

I realize this is a significant offer, and I have tried to impress upon you both its risk and its duration. Please ask me any questions you might have, or bring anything on your mind out for discussion, and I will answer insofar as security permits. If you wish to leave, please wait outside under my colleague's supervision until the meeting is over, so we can arrange payment."

He takes a long sip of coffee afterwards to signal that the soliloquy is over, and locks eyes with each of you to invite response.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:37, Friday, 1 April 2072

Artisan

Artisan draws his attention, with noticeable effort, back to the meeting when Will speaks up, and seems to be listening intently, although his less-than-enthusiastic expression only falters for a moment when Will mentions his choice in audience being based on their unique talents. His eyes wander, for the first time, across the room, resting briefly on each of his potential 'colleagues'. This spark of sudden interest remained, only for a second or two, before Will began to discuss retainer-fees and Artisan's eyes returned the their host and quickly glazed over again. As Will went into the mundane details, which Artisan could only imagine were meant for the others, his mind wandered to his quickly filling social-calender, and found himself focused not on who Will's mysterious employer is, or what sort of services they might expect from him - but on how much of his time Will's little 'gentleman's club' was going to consume. Will's initial comments about keeping his existence quiet sounded fairly counter-productive to Artisan's immediate goals, since he came, primarily, to network through Will, but if the team assembled here were unique, in any way, that might serve his purpose, just as well.

When Will's voice died out, he spoke up, seemingly oblivious of anyone else who might have a question. "Yes, about that 'duration' bit..." Artisan waved one hand around as though clearing the air of other questions. "...what level of involvement are you expecting here? Clearing my schedule, completely, might be a problem, but if we're talking about penciling in a few consultant meetings, I can be accommodating.... and since you mentioned being unable to walk away once we accept, how long do you expect us to be under this NDA?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:36, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus



Jairus carefully sets aside his plate and cup as he waits along with the rest of the group, with the intention of taking them home with him. He listens intently as Will begins his speech and weighs his words with his body language. His eyes naturally flicker on over to gauge the other's reactions, especially after the retainer was announced. It caught him by surprise which he plays off as a slight readusting of his sitting position.

He waits and lets others ask questions ahead of him, giving him time to think.

Fifteen K a month... plus commission, plus the fees... Easily twenty. For everyone here. This is too big. What? No. It is big, but I can handle it.

Jairus signals that he wishes to speak, giving physical cues to get attention. "It's not only the duration that concerns me, Will. It's also the steadiness of the offer. Staying still prolongs the danger of discovery and heightens risk as time goes by. It's a very generous offer, Will, but I'm sure you know we're all a little obsessed about security. If this becomes a steady job we just make ourselves greater targets, even by... others. I'm not interested so much in raises, but more of your security resources. What are you and your employer prepared to keep our butts safe?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:37, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, Tallon, The Suit

Will smiles as questions begin to flow. He points two fingers and a thumb in a casual gesture to Artisan - "In your case, for example, your social calendar is precisely why you are here. I do not, particularly, need an AR sculptor; no matter how distinguished the work. Of course, consultant meetings might be 'penciled in,' but I consider one of your talents your access to certain circles that are denied to others. The commitment is based off of the information you are privy to and the use of your resources towards our objectives. As such, I have a vested interest in filling up your social calendar further.

Regarding non-disclosure, in the abstract any agreement must last until you are either unable disclose sensitive information or the disclosure of information will not harm my objectives. Does that answer satisfy you?"

He swivels his finger to Jairus for a moment, then drops it. "You are thinking of this as contract work, which it is not. A better analogy is the formation of a joint business venture; the success of which depends on the ability of its partners to continue working. If you are not safe, then this venture will not benefit from your talents. I have a budget, at my discretion, to ensure success. I am prepared to allocate as much or as little of that budget as necessary to security. If our actions attract attention, our security budget increases, which cuts into profit. If they do not, then we retain security and maximize profits, which we can invest."

Jairus

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:37, Friday, 1 April 2072

Artisan

Artisan nods his head, respectfully, and smiles when Will acknowledges his artistic abilities and, afterward, adds, "Of course, of course." He glances, surreptitiously, at their current surroundings before adding, "... although, I do expect to bring a certain, much-needed, style to your new enterprise." He smirks, "Everyone needs a good artist at their disposal, my friend." He then leans back against the wall, as Will turns his attention to someone else. His primary concern had been addressed. There was more that Artisan wanted to say on the subject - particularly regarding the implication that his talent was only as unique as his little black book - but for the moment, he was interested in who would be sticking around.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:40, Friday, 1 April 2072
Max

Max leaned back into a chair to listen to Will's introduction, only to sit up again a moment later. Max kept his body movements relaxed, but underneath his skin he was in fifth gear. He looked to the other's to gauge their reactions, and then back to Will. The money was impressive. If he hadn't been smiling already, he would definitely be now. His Mind was already thinking of the possibilities. Taking the 5,000 cred "out" wasn't gonna happen. Maybe he had worked with the mob a few too many times, but that sounded like a "22 caliber behind the ear" option. Plus this is what he had been working towards. being really connected. This crew was like something outa the trids, where the cool gang of thieves pull off the really big heists and laugh about it over drinks at the casino. Only bank robbing would be small potatoes compared to this. "You know I'm in Will. This is my kind of ride. I'm guessing you're saving the details until you get the yea's and nay's, but are we gonna be needing real estate? In the real world or on the matrix? Is there gonna be a lot of merchandise involved? Are we talking Seattle sprawl exclusively, or is this gonna extend into other territories? How much are we gonna be stepping on toes both politically and with regard to local criminal organizations? hey, I'm probably getting ahead of the ballgame here, just got the brain going baby. I'll let some of these gentlemen weigh in on things. "

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:38, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus

Jairus leans back as Will begins answering his question, nodding his head at the appropriate points. "Thanks for clearing that up from the start. I suppose we're all a little too used to the disposable--I mean--deniable asset angle that it's fresh when we're asked to become part of something... greater." He glances at the door. "I'm sure you understand that I'm in now. As long as we're not setting kittens on fire, I'm in."

"How often would you expect us to, well, get our hands dirty? This venture seems to be more than a few steps above gutter runs. Not that I don't trust you with my safety, especially as a partner Will, but working days and 'running nights will interfere with continuing business." Jairus chuckles. "I guess I'm asking how often do you expect us to have to shoot someone in the face?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 1 April 2072

The Suit

`One would hope none of us will directly be required to shoot anyone in the face.` His reaction to Jarius' question follows a measured pause on The Suit's part. They were the first words he had spoken since entering, and were an acceptance of the terms of the meeting, if not the contract. Such a contract, barring any extra money save the retainer, would represent a doubling of his income, and even to a man of his considerable fortunes that was a very tasty carrot to have dangled in front of him.

Security was not a concern to him. Between Gabriel and Skytale he was locked up tight, and anyone who thought to threaten him would find their remaining days quite unpleasant. The legality of the job was also of little concern. He was connected, and not simply by ties to some criminal syndicate. He could smooth any legal concerns that came his way. No, what he saw in this meeting was a challenge. The Suit was a man in need of challenge, having grown rather bored of the doldrums of the day to day grind.

The Suit turns his attention to Will. `You have my ear for the next fifty minutes. However, should I chose to decline, the five thousand you have offered monthly for my silence will be unnecessary.` His tone in neutral, though there is mild displeasure on his face. `Discretion is a given in my business.` To assume otherwise in offering the money was a slight, though one he would allow given his past dealings with Will have proven both interesting and lucrative.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 1 April 2072

Tallon

"This venture will not require that we withdraw from current business ventures, I trust?" Tallon inquires softly. His mind races as numbers and calculations fly through his thoughts. Expansion, networking, bribes. It could work. Things might work better. Coupled with his other business ventures, this could prove a most lucrative partnership. 'Not that the alternative is much better,' he thinks wryly. 'I certainly hope that I'm worth more than 5k nuyen for the hit he'd put out on me.'

Finally, Tallon leans back and studies Will, smiling slightly. "It sounds like this is set up to be very good for business, Will. Assuming that initial appearances have not been too deceiving, you can count me in. Should I judge that good business requires that I part ways, however, you need not worry about the silence money. Discretion, as my esteemed colleague has stated, is a necessary part of our trade."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 1 April 2072

Artisan

Almost everyone had spoken up, by now, and, as far as Artisan could tell, those that had had all accepted - except, maybe, the quiet guy. It was also reassuring to see that a few of them seemed as unconcerned about the retainer-fee as he was. Good. If he new 'colleagues' were only motivated by money - not very much money, at that - then building a professional, and social, relationship with them would become that much harder. Although his monthly expenses far exceeded the numbers Will was throwing around, Artisan's net-worth was even more incredible, and he would have no trouble continuing to live in comfort and safety, whether he took the job, or not. The retainer fee was a token gesture, in this case - and Artisan couldn't help but feel slightly offended that Will thought it was necessary. He reassured himself, that it was intended to entice the others, and that Will had not - as he thought, at first - forgotten a zero.

At the very least, it would be convenient to have a small reserve of untraceable money - should the unthinkable happen. Never mind that the unthinkable was more likely to happen if he took the job, than not.

Artisan spoke up again, "Agreed. My clientele desire publicity as often as discretion. À chacun ses goûts. I prefer to think that any retainer-fee you insist upon would, instead, insure priority for your requests, as well as covering any unexpected expenses incurred on your behalf." With hardly a pause, to draw breath, Artisan continues. "My interest, however, is peaked. I'm in, and look forward to your patronage," he glanced around the room, "and to working with each of you."

"I will, of course, need full artistic license, and trust that I shall be provided with an appropriate expense-account for any specific 'engagements' that you would like me to arrange." Artisan's emphasis was barely concealed, and his meaning was quite clear to several of the men in the room who were good at reading between the lines.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 1 April 2070

Mataglap

He leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed and let the back-ground noise in the room wash over him, letting him feel the contours of every solid object in the room. It was rarely useful on the surface in the daylight but he liked the poetry of 'seeing' the reaction to Will's voice play out in the echoes it made as it rolled off the faces and bodies of the others.

I'm listening, heck for that sort 'discretion' fee I'll have the memories chemically erased if I don't want to participate.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:36, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, Tallon, The Suit

"It seems we are agreed on the basics, then. Most of your following questions depend on details. Let us get into them, and talk to me about your questions that remain." The holo projector flickers to life, showing a number of faces in mugshots, some bodies, some ransacked buildings. "The last set of field agents my employer had in this city were compromised approximately five months after I left. Our investigation into the nature of the compromise and the amount of information leaked was hampered by the fact that the field office manager was killed. Many of you are probably aware of that operation - a raid arranged against a Bayer-Glaxo pharmaceutical research facility in Redmond.

A few of my agents were able to go to ground or leave town. They were able to reveal the nature of the compromise. It seems at least two of my employer's interests in this city are still viable, and I am returning to set up the mechanisms to expedite these. It is my assessment, and I'm sure you will agree, that it is in our best interests to start over with a clean slate."

The holo projector flickers again, showing a couple of glossy full-AR corporate-announcement looking shots of hydroelectric dams and the Everett Naval Shipyard, and the three candidates for the Seattle governor's race. "There are a number of major infrastructure projects at stake in the next election. In the medium term, I am interested in determining whether a bid for these projects would be feasible or profitable to my employer. In the long term, we will expedite those interests we identify."

The projector flips to a third stream, showing the face of a middle aged, Caucasian, female, dwarf. "But time does not wait. I have been informed of an opportunity within the next week. Dr. Fischer, pictured, is a research staffer of the UCAS Environmental Protection Agency office of Power Regulation. She is a civil engineer by training. I believe she has information of relevance to one of these infrastructure concerns, as well as technical experience that might be valuable to my employer. She is travelling here for a conference next weekend. I wish to gather the information she has, and if possible recruit her for the use of my employer."

The holo projector flickers off, then begins an obvious reboot and memory wipe sequence. "This is the nature of our new business. My immediate budget has been provided to assess the major infrastructure projects. If Dr. Fischer proves to be an asset to my employer, we will be provided a side commission based on our assessment of her utility."

He stands, walks around his chair, and leans on the back of it. "I am sure you have questions. Please, field them now."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 1 April 2070

Max

Max is already working angles in his head. The girl seems like his kind of game, but EPA tree huggers can be tough nuts to crack. Plus, this group needs to get organized a little bit before any real action. Max is also trying to get the bigger picture. He runs the trid pics in his head a few times.
"So there's a Dam, and a Shipyard. Are there other projects? and do we know which one Dr. Fischer is working on? "

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 4 April 2070

Max

"Dr. Fischer works mainly on things related to the dam, but she may have information of relevance to the shipyard. As for other projects, in a city this size of course there are. But let us not get ahead of ourselves."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 1 April 2072

Tallon

"What is known about the conference she will be attending?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 1 April 2072

Jairus

"As part of the new slate I feel a bit more curious regarding our predecessors. It's been hampered you say, but it's still of prime importance to us all. What are your plans regarding this investigation. Dr. Fischer is, as you say, a good opportunity for our employer but what good would it do us all if we're compromised in some other way soon after?"

Jairus leans forward, communicating eagerness. His eyes however seem a bit distant. Bayer-Glaxo in Redmond... if they left the city the smuggling routes might've been used. Were there any 'runners laying lower than usual then?

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 1 April 2070

Mataglap

He watched with interest as the images flickered past from the holo-projector, recording everything for future reference and trying to recall what had been going down 19 months ago. A few familiar faces had disappeared from the scene about then, he racked his memory to try and remember the precise circumstances.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 4 April 2070

Jairus, Tallon

"The conference is the Puget Sound and Pacific Northwest Regional Watershed Development and Sustainability Conference, sponsored by the Salish embassy on Council Island. There are a number of hotels registered for the conference, including the Venetian and the Hilton in Seattle. The conference registration is approximately seven thousand nuyen, and I am not sure where the associated events will be located. All I know is that she is going, and what the screamsheets tell me."

"With the investigation, I am not interested in pursuing it. The people who rolled up our operation in Seattle did a fine job of it, and I'm sure they are aware of that. As long as they do not know another operation has begun, then we will be relatively secure. We will almost certainly cross paths with other organizations of competing interests, and will deal with them as they come. If more information about what happened before becomes available, then wee will deal with it then."

Mataglap

Max

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 4 April 2070

Tallon

"How difficult would it be to slip one or more of our number into the conference?" Tallon tosses out offhandedly, looking over the others. "Seems like it would be one of the easier means of gaining access to her, specially if the individual slipped in knew something about the subject matter."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan

Artisan seemed to be listening, or half-listening, at least, but then he spoke up. "It certainly could be an opportunity." He seemed to be looking towards Tallon. "As you said, if someone were to crash that party, it would be best if they knew the scene and could fit in - especially if they knew something about watersheds or had connections with the EPA. We would need a few such someones, as there will probably be a lot of ground to cover, and if Miss Fischer is not a keynote speaker, she may be difficult to locate in a large conference. Depending on whether or not the conference is 'invitation-only' or if registration is open to the public, we may also have to consider the risk involved with arriving unannounced."

"Speaking of which, we should plan to spend some time looking into what security will be like at, and around, the conference, but if it is being hosted on Council Island, it won't be insignificant - particularly if VIP scientists and government agencies are in attendance." Artisan looked over the others, "This strikes me as the sort of job best managed from a distance. If anyone else agrees, I may be able to put us in touch with a number of individuals who are prepared to accept occupational risks that the rest of us are not...."

Artisan had a thoughtful expression for a second, adding, as an after-thought. "The hotel security will be sharp, as well, but we should have an easier time getting reservations - a couple of phone-calls, and something to grease the wheels - at which point, that security would become an asset of ours, rather than an obstacle to overcome. We would all, certainly, have betters excuses for booking a high-class hotel suite for a couple of days, than for attending an environmental conference - and it would put us within a similar proximity to Miss Fischer, and with a better idea of where she is going to be at any given time." He continued to think aloud, "She is also likely to eat out, and if she does not visit the city often - as the urgency of this operation suggests - will be likely to do some sight-seeing and soak up some culture, probably downtown, when not in attendance." He shrugged, "We will want to get more information on her and identify her interests, to get some idea where she might want to go, but it would not surprise me if she visited the dam, on her own, while she is here."

He then turned his attention back to Will. "And, speaking of Miss Fischer, assuming we make contact with her, I believe we are going to need more information about your employer's specific interests, in both the dam and the shipyard, in order to determine whether or not she would be of any use to him - certainly before we attempt to recruit her for those purposes. Is this going to be a problem?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:39, Friday, 4 April 2070

Mataglap

The Hllton may be a problem, or it may be an easy in, I'm not sure.

I already live in the the Hilton, my co-op rents the whole Penthouse floor. I'll have easy access to any Delegates that are staying there but it is going to be very difficult to keep me at arms length from any action that occurs there.

Some discrete nano-bugging might be achieved without unacceptable risk.

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 4 April 2070

Max

Lifting his glasses back to his head, Max looks to Tallon,"Artisan makes some good points. Unless theres a good reason to get into the conference, it would be easier to contact the woman on the outside. And it sounds like Mr. Mataglap has a few resourses in that departmenet. Before we get into that however, we're gonna have to get organized. We can't exactly run things in this room, with no matrix access, and we should get aquainted and figure out how to best divy up the work. I personaly think I'm pretty good with people. I could talk to Dr. Fischer, but I'd have to do some research on the whole watershed thing. I'm a business man, money is kind of my thing, So I could definately help crunch some numbers on these investments. We're gonna need some serious data mining across the board. " He runs his thumb and forefinger accross his nostrils as he looks to the others in the group."Anybody got a knack for Plotics? research? surveilance? How do we want to stay in contact?"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:41, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, The Suit, Tallon

Will speaks up. "Max, I agree, that is the direction we need to start from. We have a couple priorities of work - first, reconnaissance of Dr. Fischer as a target, second, establishing the infrastructure to support our operation quickly, third, planning how to get Dr. Fischer and procuring the required assets; and fourth, finding opportunities to exploit. Remember that we have other assets - my employer has an office in DC that we may be able to budget some of our recon to. I am willing to spend about 15,000 nuyen to figure out how valuable Dr. Fischer is."

He ticks these points off his fingers, then does the two-finger point and swivels back to Artisan - "Of course I am willing to disclose my specific interest in the dam, but let's not get far ahead. Although I am fond of extracting valuable talent, we don't know if she actually qualifies, yet. Generally, I am trying to figure out how much this dam deal is worth, and I don't know enough about the behind the scenes factors necessary to get the money invested. I suspect Dr. Fischer does. She can give us ideas for further reconnaissance, and who might be competing with us."

Jairus

Artisan

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:44, Friday, 4 April 2070

The Suit

Much as before, The Suit remains silent through the initial volley of questions for Will, although this time his attention is decidedly split. As he takes in the details and interplay between the group he opens the door to the temple of his mind. The technique was ages old, and he admitedly was no zen practitioner, but to envision ones mind as a library full of carefully aranged memories often helps to recall past events. At least this had been his experience. While the others fire off questions, and Will answers, The Suit walks calmly through his memories of the time Will had last been active in Seattle. His own private operations had been in their fledgling stages then, and his ties to Horizon closer. He considers the events in several spheres, be they political, corporate, or street, and tries to organize them in a manner which would link them to influence peddling.

That was, after all, what Will was hiring them for. They were going to manipulate political interests, influence the course of public works, if not the election itself. It was no small task, but at least the gathered professionals seem to have the right frame of mind for the most part. When talk turns towards their first target he shifts his sifting through his thoughts to more recent memories, trying to call to mind any mention of the conference in question, or who might be attending. Again remains silent through the first of the talk, and then wades in.

`I am most often inclined to keep a distance from the subject of a job.` He nods to Mataglap. `When one places themselves too close, especially with the job so close to home, the result is often not as desired.` He measures his next words, considering how involved directly he would like to get. `However as this job is precursor to something larger, and requires a delicate hand, I believe relying on outside agents would be unwise. Between us there is a bounty of experience, and it would appear for the most part we are upstanding citizens in the eyes of those who look upon us. Attendance of the conference would seem beneficial.`

At Max's question to the group, the phantom of a smile crosses his features. `I am not unknown in the city's political circles.` Though the media has laid off of him of late, it would not surprise The Suit if someone amongst this crowd recognized him. As for data mining, for the moment he shall keep his assets to himself. `Whether I am respected amongst them is a subjective matter.`

Turning to Will, he cants his head slightly. `While I will be looking into the matter myself, I would be remiss if I did not ask who amongst the candidates is most open to the projects we are investigating?`

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:44, Friday, 4 April 2070

The Suit

Will smiles broadly. "I believe you've hit the nail on the head. If Dr. Fischer has the placement and access I think she does, then a delicate hand will be required to get the information we need without alienating her to either us or her employers. Some pretext to get her to talk willingly would be more useful than anything else."

"As for the candidates, all of them have some interest in major infrastructure improvement. Strouthers needs it, politically; Brackhaven certainly understands the amount of money at stake. Ms. Dzugasvilli is a more confusing factor. She my be interested in projects like renovating and expanding the generating capacity in the ACHE, which I would have difficulty bidding for."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:45, Friday, 4 April 2070

Max

Max begins organizing this group in his head, Suit guy-politics, Artisan-artist and socialite. He's still got a lot to learn about these guys. He heads to the table for a glass of wine, mainly for and excuse to move around. He makes a small gesture to Artisan, saying with his body,"Nice suite". Swirling the wine as if he had some insight into its flavor profile, he speaks to the group in general,"I can already think of twenty calls i could be making and about fifty things to be researching on the Matrix, But I guess we need some security protocol here. I imagine that keeping our contacts in the dark is even more of a priority than usual. And I'm also willing to leave the Matrix snooping to someone who can do that in a more "under the radar" fashion than myself. I definitely don't want to end up like our predecessors. I know outside help is a risk, but some of this can surely be deligated to expendable resourses"

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:47, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan

As Max passes him, he noticed a slight nod of the head from Artisan, acknowledging the subtle compliment he had been given. Artisan's attention followed the man as he showed an interest in the wine, and began swirling his glass. If Artisan could divine whether or not Max was a connoisseur, he had little to say on the subject, but listened intently as Max spoke up. When he had finished, Artisan remarked, "Outside help is a risk - it always is, in these delicate cases. However, I am fairly certain our good friend Will will agree that the prospect of recruiting 'outside help' is preferable to being directly connected with the sort of 'interests' we're talking about, here." Just in case his point had not been adequately made, Artisan added, "I'm sure our predecessors would also agree - if they were here to speak their minds."

"That said, you each know your capabilities and weaknesses better than I do. If you are more comfortable with your feet on the ground, and your hands in the dirt, I certainly won't stop you." He smiled at the others, "My contributions will be less obvious, however - hopefully by design. If I have an opportunity to speak with Ms. Fischer it will more likely be over drinks, downtown, than over a buffet-dinner at this conference, and if we talk, I dearly hope that it will be over something more interesting to me, than some old dam that is in need of funding." He winked at Will, "Of course, her work might come up. Who knows?" Artisan bows his head, respectfully, towards Will, " I understand this dam is of great interest to our patron, but if I understand what he has been saying, correctly, at the moment, he is more interested in the woman, than in the dam." He smiled to himself. "Women, I know a great deal more about...."

Returning his attention to Max, he continued. "I'm sure we all have a long list of contacts we could draw upon - but I agree with you that security should be our primary concern. I take my personal security very seriously, and I would appreciate it if the people I worked with did the same. I would offer my digital services, but I suspect my data-shadow would be even more recognizable than your own. I may be able to help you, however, when it comes to hardware, software, or other such services - I am very interested in the digital medium, and I am well equipped to make use of it towards our ends."

"'Infrastructure' may be number two on Will's list, but this is what I am very interested in, right now." Artisan lifted his hands up in a dramatic gesture, and moves them across his field of view - past the faces of each of the men he would be working with. "Where we will meet... how we will stay in contact... how can we help one another, and how much we depend on one another... how much, or how little, we disclose to one another.... There are dozens of little things, like these, that we need to figure out - hopefully, before they become a problem." He put his hands down. "I am sure Will has great respect for us, individually, but, if this were my show, I would want to know that the headlining band 'gelled' before putting them on stage, and selling tickets for the show...."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:48, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan, Jairus, Mataglap, Max, Tallon, The Suit

"Well, the first step in establishing communications is to schedule our next meeting. Since the conference begins next Friday, I believe that Tuesday evening or afternoon is good. We can compare the notes of our reconnaissance, determine what the next steps are, and begin acquiring what we need.

Regarding communication in the interim, I suggest the following. For standard communications, a series of fake commlinks running basic encryption is the easiest way for routine calls. I am sure you have a number of these on hand. As you know, I personally use several, and alternate the calls between my various access IDs. On Tuesday, we can come up with a more detailed communication scheme for actual operational control of our various assets. I find such planning to be much simpler when there is something concrete to plan for.

With regard to your contacts, if they are contacted in a pattern a third party can pump them for information. For contacts who have some professional concern in our area of interest, and can be contacted by anyone, these should be banked among the group.

We have the biggest security advantage in the world, right now, insofar as no-one is looking for us. Unless we are very careful, that will end if we extract Dr. Fischer.

Artisan, your concerns are valid, but I've never seen any team come to an answer the underlying trust issue before they have worked with each other. We have a fairly simple task, which should allow us to build a relationship in the future...

So, barring that, tell me what you are thinking about what we as a group need to plan, and we will delegate roles and responsibilities. The task, I remind, is to assess Dr. Fischer as a target for extraction at next Friday's conference."

Meeting Room, Puget Sound Maritime Credit Union Building, 4th and Evergreen, Snohomish, Seattle
21:49, Friday, 4 April 2070

Artisan

Artisan waved one hand, dismissively, when Will acknowledged his concern. "Of course, of course."

When Will asked what other tasks needed to be done, he came up with a few, "Very well. If I understand the situation correctly, there are basically three things we need to accomplish before Friday."

"First, some number of us need to brush up on the projects, in question, so that we know what your interests are, exactly, and where Ms. Fischer plays into them. I don't mean to second guess either choice, but neither the dam, nor the doctor, have been portrayed as particularly unique or vital, thus far - if your employer is looking to throw money at urban renovations, there are literally hundreds of projects in the city that he could choose from, and almost everyone in attendance at this conference would be a potentially useful resource regarding the dam, in particular. I am sure there are reasons why you and your employer have already identified these two opportunities, I am simply eager to learn what those reasons are."

"Second, we need to brush up on Ms. Fischer, herself. We need to know enough about her that we feel confident that she's worth pursuing and whether or not she will be easily motivated to work for our cause. We're going to need to get to know her, fairly well, I think, before we consider meeting with her - and this sort of information will be very valuable in both locating her this weekend, and in making a good first impression when we do. Due to the level of secrecy involved, I am inclined to think that you must suspect that Ms. Fischer will initially be hesitant to whatever it is we are going to ask of her. Any background information we can get about her will be critical in deciding how to approach her, delicately, or where to apply preasure to get the most leverage, if necessary."

"Lastly, we need a plan for the actual meeting or extraction. This may involve the conference, her hotel, or simply tracking her whereabouts in the city. If we intend to use the conference, we will need to put some resources into securing invitations well before the weekend, so we should probably put some number of us onto this task, right away. It would be nice to have someone in charge of all of the details of the conference - security, layout, time-tables, where we expect Dr. Fisher to attend, or speak. It would also be good if we could look up her hotel reservation, and get the same sort of information for that location. If she has reserved other services, we should know about it: security, transportation, tickets to the theater, and so on."

Artisan leaned back against the wall, "Is that about the gist of it?"