"Thanks Troy. The doc seemed to get the holes plugged up pretty good. I'm not gonna be moving much for awhile, but I can still sling code. If you guys in your bargining with your fences for the robbers loot, see if you can pickup a commlink program, it would help me setup free calls and coordinate any searches better."

After finishing talking to Rachel, Knuckles grabs the group's attention.

"Everyone, we should let him rest and let the doc get back to sleep. Once again, thank you for everything, Sarah, I owe you more than I can say."

"We can get some rest tonight, maybe get the word on the street, and meet back at a downtown bar tomorrow night, say Pair-a-dice?"

After that, Knuckles hands Sarah his credstick, and thanks her for her services.

"Sounds good. Sleep is needed!"

"If anyone wants to hock a vehicle, I'll be seeing my contact shortly. Send me a picture of the machine and details and I'll get you a price. Here's my cell number."

"That'd be great Troy. I have a load of them in the van," Rocky says. "I'd even appreciate it if you could drive the van before I run it into something. It's not my normal ride. I'll tag along and help you unload them and stuff."

Rocky slips around to where Sphinx is and in a low voice asks him, "Do you have any use for a Spirit Focus? I kind of noticed something going on when I watched you casting those heal spells." I may have to get in contact with the group and see if they want a new member. We might all be able to learn some things from each other.

In the morning, Tinker awakens to the sound of groans and catches a glimpse of his fellow patient's well toned leg and an ass you could bounce quarters off of, if they still made quarters, as she closes the bathroom door behind her. Shortly, she leaves the bathroom and on the way back to her bed, pulls the privacy curtain open from between the two of you. You wonder what the elven woman would look like if she wasn't in such bad shape, because as is, she is beautiful.

After slipping back into bed, she says, "I hope you don't mind, but that curtain was making me claustrophobic over here. I'm Theya, by the way. It sounded like you were visiting because of lead poisoning, too. Sounds like it is going around."

Tinker decides his stay here just got a lot more pleasant.

Troy is shaken from a sound sleep by the annoying jangling of an alarm clock... he rolls over to check what time it is. 6:26.

What the hell time of day is this? Why the hell did I set my alarm that early?

Some of his muscles complain, given the exertion they'd had the previous evening. But within a few seconds he's got himself together. Remembers to power up his legs before lurching from bed, nothing like that to put your back out.

Oh yeah. Off to see larry with the bikes, pick up that giant sphinx fella on the way.

Quick shower. Wolfs down a bagel while getting dressed and watching the news. Multitasking or confusion? Down to the garage, check the bikes are locked down securely in the bison, then off out of the big automated garage doors. They quickly snap shut behind him, showing a shabby front to his frankly 'pimping' garage.

Two ciggarettes on the way to the park where he's scooping Sphinx up from. Sets the seat in the Bison as low as it will go. Least the traffic's quiet at this time in the morning. Just rain and the early commuter crowd.

Troy rattles on a bit after he's scooped Sphinx up.Sliced up joygirls, crazy gangers, the usual small talk.

A stop at a little place to pick up some halfway decent coffee, one for himself, one for Sphinx and another for Larry.

--------

Short hop to Larrys ramshackle looking yard in the bowels of Renton. Larry's watching from his office and waddles out to greet them. A truly gargantuan Orc, gut barely contained in baggy overalls, Troy wonders how he ever manages to fit underneath a vehicle... and where he managed to get that repellant crop of warts on his left cheek from. Definitely not one of natures pretty boys, but a damn fine mechanic.

"Heya Larry, got you a coffee, cheers for meeting us this early, mate."

"Hrmmph" comes the mumbled reply, as he grabs the coffee, takes a huge gulp and heads over to open the garage doors. Troy drives in and the doors close behind them. The workshop itself is suprisingly tidy, floors swept clean and no spills or mess in evidence. A dozen cars and bikes in various states of repair. But all the tools are packed away and any parts are on benches next to their vehicles. Nobody is here this early, Larrys crew not being due in for at least another hour.

"This is a friend of mine, interested party in the goods I was talking about." Troy indicates towards Sphinx in the passenger seat. "Speaking of which, bikes are in the back."

Larry pulls the tarps from the bikes and proceeds with an inspection, coughs a couple of times and makes some unpleasant phlegmy noises while looking them over. He scratches his head for a couple of minutes, before stating:

"Nice set of wheels, that BMW is pretty sweet, someones taken care of that... but one of those Auroras is pretty shot. Figuring it's a no pink slip sale. I'd try my '12 kids to feed' spiel, but you know me..."

There's a good 20 minutes to and fro discussion before we settle on a price. 4k for the Harley, 7.5k for the BMW, 9.5k for the pair of Auroras. Larry counts out the cash, while Troy and Sphinx unload the bikes and push them into a corner.

Seems pretty fair, by the time Larrys finished with them nobody will know where they've come from.

Cash gets divided round evenly onto a stick for everyone. Troy pockets his own, throws one over to Sphinx. "Will sort the others out tonight at the meet."

Tinker looks over the elf, "Yeah mine was of the deerslug varity, it was that or a mac truck." After going her a weak smile. "What about you? Looks like you were rode pretty hard and put up wet."

Rocky arrives at Pair-a-dice, looks at the obvious gambling establishment and thinks why did I not make the connection earlier?

He astrally projects and investigates the building, finds the expected wards encasing the entire casino, then returns to his meat body.

I could drop the spells. Then I'm going to lose a spirit or two or three... And be more vulnerable. Probably not a good thing if things go wrong for me. Looks like I'm the first one here he thinks as he looks around. Maybe I'll just get them to move the meet? That coffee shop over there looks quiet.

As people arrive, I tell them I'm barred from going there, being a magician and all - afraid I'll cheat. But there is a nice coffee shop across the street.

"I forgot incoming fire has the right of way," Theya says. "Just my delicate nature that requires doctor's care for getting winged." She eyes your belongings and doesn't show the surprise the average citizen might. "I didn't catch your name?"

After settling things with the doc, Knuckles returns home for a few hours of sleep. Dawn comes, and he proceeds to do his morning workout as an afterthought, waking up fully through a pushup routine he had been doing for the past few years. After a quick breakfast, Knuckles cleans his gun and calls Ralph, a Tacoma beat cop and talks briefly about the happenings with the joygirls, and sets up the usual late-night meeting. As the details roughly match the night before, he decides its best to go see it for himself, and cruises downtown to check out the area.

On the way, he stops at a cash machine and converts a few hundred cred from his stick into script, and pockets the cash for later.
"A little grease usually gets the information flowing"

After checking out the area, Knuckles tracks down Rachel after lunch for a little face-to-face chat, to reassure her he'd see this through and that he had some new guys that seemed fairly skilled helping out.

In the early evening, Knuckles shows up at Pair-a-Dice, and heads in to the bar. Ordering a pint, he heads to a table in the back, seats himself at a decently sized round table in the back corner, enjoys his pint and waits for the rest of the crew to show up.

Rob wakes up around 11, grunting. "Caf. Where's the damn thing? Ugh! Left over from last night.." After getting the machine to brew up a new load of its conoction and a long shower, Rob heads out to his bike.

A short ride later he pulls over in front of a strange looking, run down building. It's design might say 'shrine' in a vaguely eastern language but the signs attached to it yell 'second hand clothes and guns', 'old stuff? new money!' and 'cash!' while the reinforced door frames and barred windows don't exactly speak of wealth.

"The Temple of Thrift" is written in barely legible, faded letters above the door. It's always looked like shit, Rob muses and it's still in business, so who cares?

"So, what brings you into my temple, this time, pilgrim?" the Ork woman behind the counter asks Rob as he walks in, heading directly in her direction.

Great, that mood again. Shall I bother and go along for a while?"Ah, I have come to ask the great god of thrift for his blessing and bring my offerings." Ah frag it! "Sorry Ma'am but I'm not up for it today." Looking around to make sure nobody is around to watch, he slides a paper bag that may contain anything over to her and continues "Let me get this straight out of the way. I got this gun from a ganger, so it's probably got a history."

...

Later at home, Rob spends considerable time over a go board, pondering his options. He finally lays down another black piece and removes some white ones. He sends his sister a message, detailing his move and adds 'Three more points for me. Maybe, I'll get you this time. Would be nice if you had to foot the bill, for a change. As if my stories weren't payment enough. By the way, I've got a good one this time.'

Given how this joygirl business turns out, maybe more than one. There's still plenty of time till our meet.

...

Late afternoon, in the "Taco Hell", an impatient Ork in a cheap suit is already waiting for Rob to arrive. Rising up from his seat, he says "You're late! What kind of gratitude is this? First I save your ass and then you keep asking me for favours and you're not once on time!"
- "Saved my ass? I saved yours, back there. And you were early. And what the is that empty bottle of wine doing on the table? Don't think I'll pay for that, do you!"
Bickering over every little thing any one of them brings up, Rob and Melvin enjoy a pair of satanically spiced tacos and only get to the reason they've met when their plates are empty and their stomachs full. Melvin tells Rob the few things he's heard about the killings but promises to keep his ears open when Rob mentions a reward for getting the killings to stop.

...

As a late afternoon slowly becomes an early evening, Rob pulls into the parking lot of the Pair-a-dice, walks over to the entrance and encounters Rocky. "Hoi chummer, what's up?"

"Not letting you in, cause you're a magician? Hmm, makes sense in a way." Does it? Well, the trid... And the trid's chiptruth, right? Damn, I'm a complete idiot when it comes to this magic stuff.

When Rocky proposes to meet in the coffee shop instead, Rob flashes a smile and says "Yeah, just hope they aren't afraid you're magically stealing their secret, traditional formula for vaguely coffee-like soydrek.."

"Well Rob," Rocky says, "There are a few spells that would help you cheat, like Mind Probe, or Levitate, or Magic Fingers. There's no way for me to convince them for sure that I don't know those spells. And me going in there for something like this is going to cause more problems and draw more attention than it's worth."

And I'd have to quit channeling this gnome to even get through the door.

Troy reads the change of venue message in one corner of his field of visions. Mentally steers the sleek Eurocar through the light evening traffic. The beastly SK engine barely straining at these sort of speeds.

Wow. Barred from the Pair of Dice. Didn't realise they were that discerning... At least the coffee shop won't have scanners, I guess.

Troy issues a few orders to the car. The tint on the windows darkens, to stop nosy commuters peering in. Pops open the glove compartment. Opens the second hidden compartment in there. He reaches over and extracts the sleek looking black handgun. His smartgun link interogates it, before it's disappears into the shoulder rig. Orders the window down and lights up a cigarette. Gotta get me a device that can put the cigarette in my mouth and light it, that felt waaay to manual.

-----

A short while later he arrives at the coffee shop. Guns the engine and races a slightly hot mom in an SUV for the spot out front. Ignores the angry look and beep. Spends a second or two locking down the car and setting a visual window for the cars sensors.

He saunters into the coffee joint, nods a hello at Rocky and Rob - talking about some magical stuff? Surreptitious look around, see if anything looks out of place. Check the sensors outside, nobody creeping up?

Glances over the menu and orders some strong Aztlan coffee from the counter. Real, allegedly.

Makes his way over to a spare chair at the table. One where he can keep an eye on his car.

"Hi guys, hope I find you both well?"

Places a couple of credsticks on the table.

"Before I forget, my friend was happy to take your old bikes."

"Name's Tinker. When I was a little kid, my grandfather had these old wooden toys, just pegs and wheels with holes cut in them, but the fun I used to have trying to build just about anything. Anyway, I used to take things apart and try and put them back together."

Before passing back out, I ask Sara or an attendent to grab the box labeled Last Aid from my truck. Once the box is brought it, Tinker pulls out his Predator, and begins cleaning it,

After the pistol is cleaned and hidden at his side on the bed, he jacks back into the matrix and does more research on the murders, including historical comparisons and pattern matching based on where the killings have happened.

When it looks like everyone has arrived, Rocky orders an Irish cream coffee, the real stuff not that soykaf swill, and asks, "So did anyone learn anything else, and does anyone have an idea for a plan? First, we should probably say how we can contribute to finding this guy. Probably make forming a plan a bit simpler if we know what some options might be.

Me, I am pretty good at whipping up spirits and am more than competent on the astral plane. I have a Stun spell and some spells that help me whip up spirits and add to my competence on the astral. Other than that, my contributions would be average at best."

Knuckles leans forward over his drink.

"Well I'm Hugh, though my mates call me Knuckles. I'm fair in a fight, and am fairly well connected in Tacoma. Lived here all my life, grew up with the ESR getting my back. If you need it in Tacoma, I can probably get it for you. I'm people who know people. You've already met my local doc, Sarah."

Knuckles sits back and looks to the next person at the table.

Rob takes the clue and speaks up "My name's Rob, Roberts actually but nobody calls me that. What am I good at? Legwork the old-fashioned way. And if it comes to a fistfight or a shootout I'm not exactly helpless, either. Given how fast things were over yesterday, I'd say that seems to be something we all share."

Rob drinks the last dregs of his iced coffee and motions the waitress over to order a second one.

"I'm not sure everyone caught my handle. People call me Rocky."

"I saw on the news that "The Ripper" killed a guy last night. I had been mulling over the idea of going undercover either in drag or with a Mask spell. The male victim seems to say that won't be needed.

Actually, I could probably be the bait. Why I want to volunteer, is I can channel a spirit and get Immunity to Normal Weapons. That combined with leather pants and a leather shirt/jacket, and maybe some other inconspicuous armor will hopefully keep me from getting killed. You guys could back me up from cover. Maybe set someone up in a nice sniper spot. Of course, anyone else wanting to be bait is fine with me, too."

"We could put this in play tonight and hopefully put an end to this guy and the murders. The only reason I can see to drag it out is to find more people to pay us, but I don't see this guy letting up until he's stopped, and every night is another life or two. Honestly, this is the kind of job I that makes me feel good about what I do. Too many people now-a-days think shadowrunners, and that's pretty much my job description, are just professional criminals that shoot people in the face for money. I think I'd do this one pro bono just to feel good about what I do."

"I'll get off my soapbox now," Rocky says. "While I and anyone else who wants to act as bait, anyone wanting to question the inhabitants could probably do that and still be within back-up range. Just don't go in for coffee and cookies if grandma wants to socialize."

"Good to meet you all. I'm Troy. I'm a rigger, have a few vehicles and drones. Got a few useful friends in Renton. Think I was in a fight once, sure I learned something."

Troy fidgits a little and lights another cigarette.

"I like the idea of some bait there. If you're keen to do it Rocky, then we should give that a try. With you on a job like this, the sooner we put a stop to this loony the better. There seems to be quite a bit of cash up as rewards, I'd feel bad holding out for more."

Immune to normal weapons sounds generally useful... Wonder if they do that in a lotion or something I could freebase?

"Think hitting the shoe leather sounds good. Sure we can do that without *too* much coffeee and cookies. Figure if you are going to be bait, then some or all of us need to be in reaction distance. Anyone here good with a long rifle?"

"I can put up some drone observation, not sure how much good it will do, but it might get lucky."

"What do we know about The Killer - a small area, apart from last nights victims. Is it always at night?"

"I'm thinking trying to interview people in the neighborhood is going to be difficult, and chances are lead no where," Rocky says. "If I had a killer running loose in my neighborhood, I don't think I'd answer the door when some strange man came knocking. More likely they'd call Lone Star about a suspicious man lurking about. I understand there might be someone out there that has a lead and may not realize the importance, but I don't think going door to door is the way to find that someone."

"If you meant talking to the people who are still out on the street, that might work. At least there's no door in the way to let them ignore you."

Rob chuckles and says "They won't call LS, all right. They'll signal their buddies who'll shoot first and ask no questions later. Whoever goes round asking questions should better be accompanied by someone the regulars trust; let's say a longtime prostitute."

"Good points on both counts! I was thinking we should speak to people outside, door to door is asking for it somewhere like Tacoma. Good thinking on the accompaniment.... wonder if one of the girls who gave us the job might be willing to do that?"

A thoughtful look, furrowed brow, lights up another Aztec 'Coffin Nail' cigarette.

"On reflection, it's weird. Wonder why one killing seems different from the others. Different area, man instead of a woman... copycat, perhaps?"

Rocky's mind drifts for a moment and suddenly he makes an expression that would look quite at home under a comic light bulb.

"I forgot about this," Rocky says as he puts a credstick on the table, "I took it off the guy who shot Tinker. You know, the toaster talkin' dude." Rocky looks around to see if anyone remembers events from what seems like weeks ago. "I also got three more, two off the magic guys. I'm going to see how letting the free spirits use them works out.

"But the big idea that just came to me is having one of these free spirits I traced and bound act as bait. It has human form, so it should be able to take any human form it pleases. No one has to put their drag outfit on. Tinker, can you get us some holopics of the victims, hopefully before shots so we can put out the best bait possible? Knuckles, maybe Rachel can help fine tune the look. She sounds like she may have personally known the girls. The good part about this idea is the spirit can just go astral upon being attacked. If it does get "killed" it's not really getting killed, just disrupted, and I can go on an Astral Quest to rescue it if it wants rescued. A little offer of karma, and I bet it would jump at being bait - no matter what happens to it."

And I promised them I would see they got karma as part of the deal I made with them when I bound them.

"We can set up a perimeter around "the bait" and stay pretty well hidden, concealed even. When the Ripper attacks, I can have a watcher alert you, and everyone can move in."

"How's that sound for a plan? And we can start almost immediately, before any more people get killed."

"I wonder if we can pay any girls who are out to stay off the street, or put some kind of surveillance on them, maybe a drone, a spirit, or a watcher. I'd rather have our "bait" be the only blood in the water tonight if we can manage it though."

"I like it!"

A moments reflection:

"Offering them karma? That sounds nasty - is it like a vampire or something?"

Troy looks a little nervous at the thought of that. Inhales heavily from the coffin nail.

"In the way of surveilance, I've got a couple of drones which can help. Have a little blimp that just blends right in, and an invisible eye in the sky..."

"I never thought of comparing it to a vampire," Rocky responds with a smile on his hard not to like face, "but in a way yes, except it's voluntary and usually no blood is involved. I suppose those people who are addicted to feeding vampires and do so willingly would say it is exactly the same."

"But this is totally consensual. You decide if you want to freely give some Karma and how much, and the spirit accepts it. I even know a ritual that has a chance of increasing the donation, or actually decreasing how much you give. Spirits seem to like karma from magically active folks more than mundane folks." Rocky, though immersed in the magical topic, realizes he is getting off track and decides to wind this tangent up. "Free spirits have even been known to pay for karma. The going rate seems to be 5000 per unit they receive. The same rate I've been paying to help bond my foci."

"But that's just icing on the cake for the spirit and keeping it happy and glad to be working for us. I can always order it to just do what I want, in this case, take the form of a metahuman female dressed in sleazy but provocative attire and hang around on this plane until it gets viciously attacked. See, when I put it that way, it doesn't sound too fun. Free spirits love karma though, and they will do just about anything for it. That's why I mentioned it."

"I was hoping you had some surveillance drones when you mentioned you were a rigger. Perhaps you have a mini blimp mounting a rifle for raining lead from above? In any event, I hope you point them out to me so I can have a spirit or two use their powers to help them out. I'm thinking Concealment for those that are trying to hide and movement on just about all of them to increase their quickness. Doesn't hurt the fuel mileage either," Rocky adds with a grin.

Tinker hears back from his electronics store contacts with the same prices.

"On the Commlink Program, it depends on the size. I've got a Rating 1 for 100 , a Rating 2 for 400 , a Rating 3 for 900 , a Rating 4 for 4800, a Rating 5 for 7500, a Rating 6 for 10,800, a Rating 7 for 49,000, and I gotta have some time to locate anything higher.

On the Dumbframe, I've got a Rating 1 for 300 , a Rating 2 for 1200, a Rating 3 for 2700, a Rating 4 for 14,400, a Rating 5 for 22,500, a Rating 6 for 32,400, a Rating 7 for 147,000 , and I gotta have some time to locate anything higher."

Hearing even more talk about magic, Rob sighs and delves deeper into his second iced coffee. "How about we get the pimps to give their girls a day off? Compared to the prize they've put on that madman's head that shouldn't be too much and they'll probably rack up prices to pay for use anyway." Eliminates the competition for our 'girl' and the guy probably won't be scared off if our bait acts a bit out of role, all alone in his dark hunting grounds and sends a few real customers away 'because they're creepy' or whatever."

As the plan comes together everyone gets in Troy Anderson's vehicle and starts cruising the hot three by five block area looking for ladies, and gents, of the evening. Luckily, you only find four women out on the drizzly night. The first, a dwarf, says she can be had for the night for 400 , the ork joygirl, after looking at the good looking ork and the very charismatic human males, says she's tempted to pay you, but baby needs a new pair of shoes and she'll spend the night with you for 100 .

Then Troy's mouth drops open as he pulls up to a young human he knows. Knuckles and she are already haggling over price before Troy can disengage himself and get over to the side. "Terry Marie Anderson," Troy scolds in a very loud voice, "what the frag do you think you are doing?"

A spectral image of the first girl flickers into view. "It's not what you think, Troy," the women say almost in unison.

Hot Pink is the image tonight.
Terry dressed in a pink metallic micro-dress, matching knee-high boots and clutch, is trying to avoid the rain so that her shoulder-length hair doesn't get ruined. Her makeup is slightly overdone to complete the 'I'm a joygirl' image she's trying to project - though she doesn't quite walk like one. The young five and a half foot tall athletic strawberry blond looks like she belongs more in a gym than on the streets.

Nearby, tucked in an corner is her twin keeping an eye on things, seeing as the girl in pink has no visible weapons or armour. This doesn't make Terry any less dangerous, but does leave her with some vulnerabilities - like weapon's fire. 50k is the reward up for snagging 'The Ripper'. Having tracked the source of the killings, the girls figure they can make it big if they catch the demented psycho before he can strike again. The girls are no strangers to street life, so this kind of crime sort of hits home.

Every now and then the girl seems to tilt her head a bit and mumble, as if talking to herself. What people aren't seeing is that she's actually keeping an active transceiver link with her sister.
When Troy's car approaches, she can tell by the speed that they're coming towards her. <<"OMG, here comes another one, you sure this is a good idea?">> she mumbles in her mic. <<"Look, humour the guy and blow him off, you know why we're here...">> is the reply. The girl nods as if flagging the car down and walks up to it. Talking to the good-looking-for-an-orc in the passenger seat. "So what'll it be boys?"

Suddenly recognizing the driver, her face drops. In response to his scolding, Carrie decides to go astral rather than break from hiding. Her image, an almost exact copy of the girl in pink but with shorter hair, wearing a long coat, responds in unison with her twin.

Troy's thought processes are ripped from thoughts of magically concealed drones and donating karma to spirits for cash sums.

Sharp intake of breath!

"THINK!"

<B>Troy</B> pauses to quieten voice down a number of notches. Considers briefly, then discards, the idea of giving the faux leery Knuckles a clip round the ear.

"Think! Who's been thinking round here?"

A short pause. A shorter half sigh. Leans over slightly to get a better eyeline out of the passenger window. A thoughtful brow crease.

"Last place in the city I'd expect to see you."

A near audible clunk of mental cogs turning.

"Come to think of it... what the heck's going on here?"

"Oh, and I think it is good to see ya!"

Rocky, the very charismatic human asks, "Troy, you know these ladies?" Giving his most dashing smile, Rocky asks, "Care to introduce us? I think we can see what is going on."

"Honey," the 100 hooker says, "those girls ain't got nothin' you ain't already paid for right here." She puts her hands on her hips and throws her bust and chin toward Rocky.

What have I gotten myself into? Rocky thinks. Obviously the manifesting one is magically active, the other is probably some kind of muscle if they are out here trolling for the Ripper just like we are. I suppose we could cover more area and increase our odds if we split into two groups. I'll leave the City spirit here with orders to conceal the "bait" girl if she is attacked, then confuse any attackers.

A fire hydrant appears near where the trolling girl was waiting.

"Don't worry," Rocky says to the manifesting twin, "It's mine. I'm leaving it here to help out."

Pulling out his phone, Rocky calls his car, inputs a few codes and tells it to come to his present location. When the car arrives Rocky tells the fire elemental materialize inside it in human form, resembling as much as possible these females on the physical plane.

When the car arrives, it seems like things have sorted themselves out. "Sorry, ladies. My ride has arrived," Rocky says and gets out of Troy's vehicle and into his own car. Knuckles and Rob join him. When the 100 hooker starts to follow, Rocky says, "Oh, I'm so sorry. It doesn't look like we have room for you. I guess you'll need to stay where you are," closes the door and pulls away.

Rocky goes to the second best place outlined by Tinker and tells the spirit this is where she is going to be posted. The fire elemental looks at the drizzly night, disappears, then reappears outside under the "Drone and Electronics Repair Shop" canopy. Rocky looks around quickly to see if anyone may have noticed the sudden appearance, but doesn't detect anyone.

Tinker sits in his hospital bed rubbing his temples, his head hurts from hours of watching different video feeds from near all the crime scenes, hoping to avoid the hard question.

Sara enters the room and waits for him to finish.
"Whats it going to be? As you can see from xrays most of the slug fragments are embedded in the synthetic cardio material. By simply removing it, you should be able to make a full recovery, you're really quite lucky."

"Alright, give me a few minutes, then you can pull it out."

Tinker plugs back into his deck and sends back messages to his electronics store contacts, letting them know to hold a copy of each rating: 3 program. Then he messages the team, suggesting the best locations for the "bait" to be placed. I also include the information about the male victim: basically a POS who knocked his wife around alot, and pulled if off because he was connected. Odds are his killer is using the Ripper murders as a cover.

Terry leans forward offering more cleavage to Knuckles than she would like, but it's hard to keep even her B-cups in this mini... With one hand on the car, the other on her hip, she replies to his comment. "I'm working here, what does it look like?!"
Carrie takes half a step back, rolling her eyes. "Not the best way to say it..."
"We're on a stake-out is what's going on silly, what are you doing?", she adds teasingly then turns her attention to inside the car. "Hi, we're Troy's cousins, I'm sure we'll get to know each other better once the deal goes down." She gives the hooker they picked up an unimpressed stare. Ignoring the girl's comments, she looks back at Troy and continues. "Look I've done a lot of things, but turning tricks is not my thing, you know that cuz." She quickly glances from side to side. "Word is on the street there's something bad going on around here, and the bounty's quite tempting."

Feeling a presence, she turns her head slightly to the materializing fire hydrant, seeing it glow with her enhanced senses. She glances at Rocky, then Carrie, who simply nods and shrugs. She quickly scans the street to see what's going on around them, wondering if anyone's noticing. Her Low Light vision gives her the benefit of seeing the surroundings almost as easy as if it were mid-day. Turning her attention back to the car she adds, "Well, it's obvious you need more reliable bait than her", thumbing in the 100 girl's direction. "So we can either work together or compete. Seems your chummers here want the former, so let's lay out the plan and do some biz."
Carrie simply nods in agreement.

This campaign is continued in Dairy Dash - Night of the Ripper.