"I am most proficient in manipulation and health," Ember replies to Sully, "although I have other talents as well. I'm fairly capable of any necessary defense, unless I'm in astral. And, as Trace mentioned, I can conceal you as you enter the building."

"I'm not sure about Ember." Trace says giving the shaman a sideways look. "But I should be okay, in other words Sully, no don't expend to much thinking about saving my hoop. As for Ember, she will be PD's responsibility, you worry about Jack and Wraith. As for what I can do, let me lay it down so we all understand. I have two fire elementals on stand by, they are our cover. If things go wrong, or we get pinned down, they are how I plan on getting us out of the drek. I can take just about anyone down with a stunbolt or shake things up with a fireball. I have limited healing ability, as well as some ability to read thoughts." When the worried looks flash him, "don't worry, you would know if I tried, and I don't do it on friends. That about covers it. So it's," he looks at his PDA, "11:30 now. Lets meet again tomorrow, call it 1800 hours. PD, don't worry about it, if all goes well we won't need anything more than normal driving, if it doesn't well I am sure you will do the best you can. Wraith, you and Jack need to have the van ready to go by then, will drive the neighbor hood so we can all get our eyes on it. After that we find a good spot and wait. Oh yeah," he says to Wraith, "if you can't find one with tinted windows, get some tinting, no need for people to wonder why we are all riding around together."

Jack nods again, scooping a last piece of pizza and nodding his head at Wraith and then over his shoulder.

Wraith nods in angreement and stands up. He reaches down to grab a last slice for himself and heads outside with Jack.

"Where should we start? Are we just gunna walk around till we see something that would be a good target? I've never done something like this before, though I guess the electronics will still be the same on the locks, I'll just have to wing it on the transponder."

"Does that about cover it Sully? Anything else you, PD, or Ember want to go over while were all here?"

"Well, ah guess the easiest way would be to find a nieghborhood that's not going to draw too much attention and snag a van. We can double on my bike, and you can drive the van off. I assume a Bulldog is some kind of van, so we'd probably have the best luck in a small industrial park. Ah don't know the area too well, do ya' know of anywha like that?"

"Hang on, let me check my Mapsofts."

While his Mapsofts run their process, Wraith looks at Jack a bit funny, "Why the frag are we stealing one anyways? I bet my fixer could rent us something clean for a few days."

Jack arches a brow as he cups his hands around a lighter, the orange glow of the cigarette lighting the shadowed space under the brim of his hat.

"Can your fixer get us something that isn't stolen and can be destroyed after the runs done? Lonestar will get information from anything less, trust me, ah know."

"Even if its taken to a chopshop and stripped? Damn. Alright, we'll go about it this way then, it was worth a thought."

Wraith continues searching the Mapsoft for a good area.

Jack chuckles, taking a drag on the cigeratte and offering the pack to Wraith.

"Ah've heard some of them boys braggin' in the locker rooms, talking about how they could pick up traces of people with strong emotions just walking around, never mind sitting in one place...Ah think Trace is right not to risk it."

PD nods to Trace, "By 6pm I'll have what ever photos we need. Somehow, I'll get us a shot of that scanner. Until then." PD waves, finishes his soy-soda and wonders about whether Mac would still be up. Ah hell, he thinks to himself, even if he isn't up, I'm giving him cash and that'll brighten his day..

Hopping into his car and pulling out in the mild traffic on the roads this late evening, PD heads toward Mac the Knife's place in the Underground. Time to leave a deposit on that gear.

Arriving at Mac's, PD knocks on the door, trying to be loud enough to get the attention of people inside who are awake, but soft enough to let anyone sleep who already is.

Sully finishes off her pizza and leans back in the booth. "So I guess that leaves me with a free evening. Say what you want but being muscle has its advantages." She takes a drink of her cola. "Ember, I'm suppose to become your friend by the big bad boss's order but I'd rather be someone you can trust, along with the rest of the team. I know you have some sort of flavor of fragged up in your past and I don't care as long as it doesn't put any of us at risk. The man you're replacing didn't really blend with the team and I want to avoid a another body on the pile so how can I or us make this work?" Her tone is one of complete disclosure. She seems earnest in her desire to connect in a way that works for you, in your language.

Ember lifts and eyebrow at Sully's mention of "another body on the pile", but she doesn't mention it.

"When I accepted the job offer by meeting with our dear Lady Hubris, I was looking for a job, not a friend, not a mother, not a 'life councelor.'" Ember toys with the silverware on the table. Her tone is harsh and not a little defensive, but starkly honest. "I think it's a little unprofessional for her to try to arrange anything more personal without my input. And yeah, I've got a little drek in my past. Who here doesn't? As long as I do my job, and do it well, I think it should be a non issue. She might have "plans" for me, but they'll only go so far as they jive with me. She may be a big bad, but I'm me, and she isn't God, as far as I know."

Ember looks down, and her tone becomes a hair more conciliatory. "No disrespect to her, naturally. Well, not much, anyway.. I'm just trying to get a little respect on my end. I'm a runner. I'll do my job, I'll make sacrifices to make the team work. I'm just not going to hand my personal life over on a worksheet for her to plan out." She fixes Sully with a level gaze. "I'll take someone I can trust over a friend," she speaks the word dripping with bitter sarcasm, "any day."

Wraith nods to Jack.

"Alright, we got pickings around Downtown, but I'm betting that a lot of those places will have security that I'd like to avoid if possible.

Why don't we head out into some less secure areas and drive around. I'm sure something will turn up. I got my own bike to ride for now, I'll just stash it someplace if need be."

Wraith walks over to his Aurora and plugs the dataline he uses to help control it in. As soon as Jack is ready, he starts it up and heads out into the city.

"Your call." Sully's tone is resigned but warm. "Consider your hoop covered." She rises and tosses the paper plate into the trash along with her cola can. I'll leave her in your capable hands then. I don't know what game Crimson's playing but so far we look clear. I'll do the best I can to keep us all kicking and screaming. Take care.

She hails down a cab and heads for Weps shop to pick up her new "stealth" suit for the job.

Jack nods, flicking the cigeratte to the cement and climbing onto the Harley parked nearby.

"Lead tha' way," as he thumbs the bikes started, and the distinctive pipes roar to life.

Ember watches Sully leave, expressionless.
Damn it, you just can't shut up... she berates herself silently.
Once again, she found herself saying more than she meant to, revealing too much of herself. It made her feel exposed, vulnerable. But sometimes she couldn't seem to help it.
Maybe I do need a friend. An unbidden thought. She snickers to herself derisively. Dragons are real, friends are mythical.
Ember crumples her napkin and shoots it into the nearest trashcan. It bounces off the rim and tumbles to the floor. She tosses a glance at Trace.

"Well, I've also got to go do something.. important."
She grabs her coat and shrugs back into it as she walks out the door. She casts one last glance in the direction Sully disappeared, and hails a cab to head home.

"Have a good night," Trace says to Embers departing back. So far so good Trace, so far so good. If we can just get through this in one piece I might be able to put something together. Trace stood and stretched working the kinks out of his back. He dropped enough money on the table to cover the food and made for the door. It didn't take him long to hail a cab and not much longer after that he found himself back in bed.

Jack glances around as they prowl through the industrial areas to the south of downtown, looking for a likely looking location with a van not under heavy lock and key. He looks to Wraith cruising beside him, and motions over towards what looks like a Bulldog parked in a row of other simalarly marked vehicles, something-Biotech, probably just did courier deliveries for hospitals and such in the area.

As they pull off, he takes up a position near the mouth of the parking lot.

"Stash your bike, and ah'll keep a look out."

:: This part of town is just about dead. Not nice enough for sec patrol but not so crummy to have roving gangs. This particular van looks almost too good to be true. The street lamp that would normally be lighting this stretch of street seems on the verge of failure and flickers on and off with relatively regularity. You figure that if you time it right and you got it right the first time, you should have enough time to bypass the security and get the vehicle started before the light turned back on in it's dying cycle. ::

Wraith gives Jack a nod and pulls his bike into an alley about a block away.

over the comm.

“Give me a sec to change and get my gear together.”

Popping the seat up, Wraith reaches inside the bikes storage compartment and pulls out his Stealth Suit and electronics kit. A moment later his current clothing is stashed away in the bike, the alarm is set, and he is making his way back down the street.

“Keep an eye out for me, if you can’t spot me, it isn’t likely someone who isn’t suspecting me will either.”

Not even bothering to worry about the flickering of the light, Wraith steps up next to the van and takes a look at the situation. Alright, first things first, I gotta disable the transponder to make sure it ain’t tracked once I’m on the road. Hmm… but just in case they got a shock system hooked up, I better disable security first.

Reaching into one of the pouches of his suit, he takes out his electronics kit and sets it down on the ground. Doing his best to keep the tools tightly between himself and the van, making it harder for anyone to see a tool floating in midair, he crouches down and zooms his microscopic vision on the lock. Working his magic he cracks the case and takes a look at whats inside. Hmm… snip the red wire, cross the blue and green, and…. Bingo.

Sliding down beneath the van, he looks around for the transponder. Damn, could they put this thing in a more inconvenient spot? Well, I guess that’s the point though. A few snips with the wire cutter and he pulls the transponder down and tosses it under the gutter.

“Alright Jack, I’m about to open the door and climb in, get ready to move out.”

Trying to open the door as little as possible and at the same time do it as fast as he can, Wraith slides into the van and sits down in the drivers seat. Popping the ignition open, it is just a simple twist of a few wires and the van starts up.

“Movin’ out!”

PD:
:: The next day is surprisingly lovely. The sky is filled with the soft fluffy clouds that follow most storms and their brilliant white color leaves the sky ultra blue. A crisp breeze reminds you that it's still January. ::

:: As you drive into the now full parking lot of Factor Five, you see there are about 5 spots near the door marked "Visitor" and there are still 3 empty. After parking, you enter the building into a small reception area with 2 sets of double doors leading off in opposite directions to your right and left. ::

over the comm to Jack

"Where are we gunna stash this thing for now?"

Walking up to the receptionist, PD removes his jacket and hangs it over his arm. Pulling a business card out of his breast pocket he hands it to the receptinist behind the desk, "I have an interview with a Mr. Labonte about your organization's involvement with the Tour de France. I'm a little early, I hope you don't mind."

"It's no problem at all," say the man behind the desk, taking a look at PD, eying him up. The man looks at the business card and then picks up the phone to contact Mr. Labonte's office. "You're 3:00 is here.... Yes, the reported. I will do that, thank you." Turning back to PD, the man says, "You can wait here right here. Mr. Labonte will be ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you. Have a good day." PD says with a smile.

Sitting down and waiting for Mr. Labonte, PD accesses the chip that Crimson provided them and that he slotted earlier. Using the floorplan on the chip and the room he's in, PD figures out where he is in relation to the target rooms and path as described in the information. Quickly clearing his head memory, PD snaps a few photographs looking out of the lobby. Just in case we need to make a quick exit, we know what the land looks like, he thinks to himself.

With the van safely stashed near enough to Wraith's place for easy access, Jack finally crawls into bed after running him back for his back, just a few hours before dawn.

Wraith puts a call through to Trace.

"I got us a ride. Is there anyplace you want me to stash it, or should I just rent a garage for it?"

"Check, garage it is."

Scanning the area, he finds exactly what he needs. 200 bills a week, no problem. Security isn't gunna be too great though...

Wraith quickly runs down to the local hardware store and buys the bigest, most secure padlock he can find to put on the storage units door. He then gets back in the van, drives down to the storage rental place and gets himself a garage for the week. He clamps the padlock down on the garage, then turns to Jack, "I'll take that ride back to my bike now. I think we're set here."

For the first time in a week the former FBI agent awoke from a sound sleep on his own. Lights and noise slowly drifted to his ears as his brains neurons began to fire, pushing him into a semi alert state. What time is it? The clock on the bedstand flashed an angry crimson, the read out displaying the time at 11:00 AM. Wow, slept in, that was nice.

It was twelve noon when he stepped out of his doorway. Clean shaven, new clothes and a full stomach of soy products. Trace called for a cab and noticed the voice mail light flashing. A quick punch of a button brought Wraiths voice into his ear. Good, he thought. He triggered the call back function and left a voice mail, "Wraith, Trace, I want you to meet me at the van location in an hour, we got some work to do on it."
Keeping the phone on he cycled through the menu until Sully's name was highlighted. Her phone rang through to voice mail, "hey muscle girl," he said with an amused tone, remembering her comment from the night before.
"We have some work to do on the Van, and we could use your help. Meet us there in an hour." One more time he cycled through the list until Embers name showed up. His thumb hovered over the 'call' button. He hesitated. He liked the dark haired girl, she was energetic, irreverent, and a firecracker. But he just didn't seem to click with her, and for some reason, kept rubbing her the wrong way. finally he stabbed the button, hoping it went through to voicemail, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when it did.
"Ember, Trace here, I hope you had a good night sleep. We have some work to do and we could use your help, meet us in an hour," he rattled of the address to the van.

He slipped the phone back in his pocket and stood on the corner waiting for his cab. One of these days I am going to have to get a vehicle. An hour later Trace arrived at the storage unit. Slung over his shoulder was a huge black duffle bag, filled with new purchases from Home Depot and R.E.I.

The hum of a street bike moves up the street and Wraith pulls to a stop next to Trace. He flips back the visor of his helmet and smiles, "Mornin' boss."

Sully walks down the street towards the garage. She pauses to look over the bike. "Nice." Her hair is it's usual black tangled mess on her head. She's wearing a tank top, some jeans, and army boots. Her ever-present sunglasses in place. "Muscle reporting for duty." She gives Trace a mock salute and a half smile.

Ember stumbles gracelessly out of bed after Trace hangs up, bedsheets wrapping around her legs to hinder her as she hops over to the shower. Standing beneath a steady stream of warm water, she lets the heat wash away the sweat and dirt and sleepy grit.
She'd had a couple of calls during the night. Club friends, wondering where the hell she was, and didn't she know it was a weekend? She never partied on runs, but none of them knew about her day job.
Stepping out of the shower, she dresses for work. Skipping the makeup, she pulls her straight black hair into a high ponytail and pulls on a tight fitting cutoff tee and pair of baggy camo pants with a million pockets. Into one, she slips her Ruger.

The taxi drops her a couple of blocks from the garage, and she walks the rest of the way.

Wraith parks the bike and leads the group towards the garage that he rented. Bending down to open the lock, he asks, "So whats the plan, man?"

Trace smiles at the groups as they arrive. He nods at Sully's mock salute. After Wraith has let everyone in he drops the bag on the floor and unzips the seal. Inside various cans and bottle rattle about. "I took the liberty of picking up a couple of things, some quick-dry paint for the van, cleaning supplies to remove our prints and other genetic evidence, ski-masks and gloves for the run. Just some odds and ends, like a few gallons of paint thinner to help the van go poof."

As he speaks he takes everything out of the bag, six one size fits all, light fabric, warm weather ski-masks and matching gloves. Four cans of flat black quick dry auto paint, two rolls of masking tape, five square meters of brown meat packing paper, a dozen filter masks, five cans bleach spray, four gallons of high solvent paint thinner, and spray on tint.

"First we need to mask off the glass and headlights, and tires. Then we paint her black. After the paint dry's we scour her top to bottom with the bleach. After that no one touches the vehicle with out gloves on. Next I figured we all need some running gear, so everyone breaks, get's there stuff and meets back here." He reaches down and picks up a roll of tape, "I know it's grunt work, but better safe then in jail right," holding the tape in one hand he looks to Ember then flings the tape sideways through the air at Sully's head. "Let's get to work," he says with a smile.

Sully whips out a hand and grabs the tape without missing a beat. "Good plan. I won't need the mask or the gloves. My running gear is full body so I should be fine." She begins to tape off the parts of the car. "So sounds like we're all ready then."

"Same here on the full body gear, but it will be usful for when I'm not wearing it. It would look a little odd for someone to be driving down the street while wearing Ruthinium, eh?"

Wraith grabs a roll of tape and gets to work on the other side of the van.

"I know it's grunt work, but better safe then in jail right," ...

"Amen to that," Ember says. She grabs some tape and paper and gets to work on the windshield.

Trace smile appreciatively as the team goes to work. It was a strange though he felt. Working with true professionals for once. People willing, even eager to jump in and help out the team as a whole, even at the cost of time and effort. No bickering or back stabbing, I could get used to this. Trace grabbed some paper himself and went to work.

"Ah, Mr. Lawson I presume," a man comments as he approaches the bench upon which PD sits. Rising to his feet, PD shakes the man's hand as the man introduces himself as Mr. Labonte.

"It's Dawson actually, Joe Dawson."

"I trust you weren't waiting too long?"

"Not at all."

As Mr. Labonte leads the way through the building, PD begins to take pictures of the hallways just trying to get a feel for what items may obstruct the teams advances through the building (i.e. locations of benches, plants, doors, water fountains, etc.). "You're not entirely what I expected," Mr. Labonte comments, "being and ork and all. Can't be too many of your type in journalism."

Choking down the angry response, PD laughs dryly and continues to follow his subject towards a small conference room. The room is equipped with a table big enough for four. Mr. Labonte sits down in a chair facing the door to the room and PD is all but forced to sit with his back to the door facing Mr. Labonte. Pulling a small recorder out of his jacket pocket and turning it on, PD starts the interview. Even a few moments into the interview, it's clear that Mr. LaBonte is a PR man in full who (A) probably doesn't know about any type of bodyarmor research and (B) even if he does, he wouldn't tell PD anything and it might put the building on alert. Looks like no scoop from this angle .... PD thinks to himself.

About a half hour later, PD has just about all he needs for a decent current events story in the Sports pages of this week's Times. "Is there anyway I can take a few pictures of you and the new bikes to put in the paper?"

"I don't think that'll be a problem. Follow me down one of our smaller prototype laboratories and I'll set up a photo op. for you."

Continuing with some small talk, PD follows Mr. Labonte once again out of his office. Nodding to the receptionist as they pass through the lobby again, LaBonte leads PD into a previously unapproachable section of the building. Accessing the mapsoft, PD smiles to himself as they approach the area of the building that the team has targetted for the run. "Please wait here a moment, Mr. Lawson. I need to be sure that no one is working inside at the moment and get everything set up for your photo."

"No problem at all. And it's Mr. Dawson." Waiting for a few minutes, PD studies a small picture on the wall while actually rifling through the pictures he's gotten so far. Eventually, Mr. LaBonte returns and after offering PD a stop at a restroom if necessary, leads him into a larger room within which the target lies. Quickly snapping a photograph of the retinal scanner and the door it guards as a Factor Five employee leaves the secured area. Bingo! PD thinks to himself.

"If you'll just follow me in here, Mr. Lawson, " PD sighs, " and we'll get you your photograph."

PD pulls a normal camera out of his pocket and prepares to take a few photos. As he does this, he glances about the smaller laboratory and snaps a few photos with his eye camera just in case. As Mr. LaBonte sets up a prototype bike and a few pieces of of clothing on a display. Snapping a few photos of the bike, clothing, and Mr. LaBonte. Recording a sound byte of Mr. LaBonte describing the bike and clothing and how it well help the UCAS team win this year's Tour de France for the matrix version of the Times, PD concludes his work by about 3:50pm.

Mr. LaBonte leads PD back out to the lobby and shakes his hand. PD promises to get the story back to the Times this afternoon and it might be run already tomorrow or the following day. Thanking Mr. LaBonte for his time and saying good day to the receptionist PD heads back outside to his car. Getting in, he cycles through the images he stored in head memory smiling at the shot of the laboratory door and the retinal scanner. Dialing Trace, PD says, "Got us a usable photo for this weekend. Would have sent them on to another party, but I'm afraid my communication's security isn't quite what he's used to yet. Where are you guys at and I'll drop by and we can take a look at them."

____

Editted for clarity and correctness and to work in the photo of the secured area more how Blitz feels it could be done with the now available floorplans

Jack drapes the leather duster over his bike, shucking the denim shirt and stripping down to just the white t-shirt beneath and his jeans as he helps the rest of the team, joking amicably in that soft southern drawl. It becomes obvious soon enough that he gives deference to the females, not to the point of coddling, but always saying please and thank you, and offering to help whenever it seems likely not to offend.

Trace took a few steps back and stood shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the team. The dark van was fully painted and dried. They had just finished bleaching it down to remove any and all genetic 'fingerprints'. The van's skin was painted a non reflective black, the windshield were given a light tint so that it would not be easy to see through it. A single white strip went around the vehicles mid section to give it a 'every day' look. Trace was proud of the work the team had done to make it happen. He glanced at his watch, 1600, the red quartz blinked. "Ok people it's 4pm now, why don't we break and come back here in 2 hours. This will be our jumping off point. We leave any personal vehicles here and take the van to the target. From this point forward no one touches the van without gloves on, soka? Good, see you all in a couple of hours."

Sully gives a nod. "See you all then." She steps outs and walks 5 or so blocks then calls for a cab. She heads to her place. Once there she throws together a duffel with everything she needs for tonight's run. She feels the tingle she always gets just before a job. She makes arrangements to be dropped a few blocks away from the garage at 15 minutes before the team is scheduled to meet.

"Anyone hungery? I'm gunna go grab a pizza."

Wraith heads out of the garage and out to his bike, where to runs down to the local pizza joint and grabs a few slices and watches the latest Urban Brawl game on the trid. An hour later he heads back to the garage, slipes on his gloves and body suit hood, then crawls into the back of the van. He quickly changes into his Stealth Suit and gives his gear one final check. That done, he sits in the back of the van, waiting for everyone else to show up.

Jack steps out and snaps the cellphone open.

"Crimson, I need a Rating 7 dataline tap. We've learned that I'll need to go onsite. Can you get me something like that in the next two hours?"

"PD! It's Trace. You've got to see my new car. Can you stop by around 6pm to check it out? Just stop by if you want to, no need to call me back. See you later!"

Smiling at Trace's method of hiding the true importance of his message behind his innocuous message, PD prepares himself back at his place before heading out to where Wraith stashed the van.

He slots his Seattle mapsoft in case he needs to drive the van out of there in a hurry. Strapping his throwing knives onto his thigh, he extends and retracts his hand blade a few times, checking the mechanism. Oiling it slightly so it makes a little less noise, he nods in satisfaction.

Putting on his secure vest and forearm guards, then his leather jacket, he looks at himself in the mirror, takes a deep breath and thinks to himself, The big time ... heh. I wonder if everyone's feeling this nervous?

Heading out of his place and up to Uglucks, he says a quick hi/bye to his friend, letting him know that he's going out, and that if he's not back in a few days to pawn all of his stuff, sell the apartment, and keep the money. Catching his keys as Ugluck tosses them to him, PD gets in his car and heads over to the van.

Arriving there at about 5:45, he stashes his car about three blocks away and engages the small, blinking LED on the dashboard that usually warns people about the security system on the vehicle, but in this case is simply a blinking LED. It deters some of the more common criminals from playing around with his car.

Walking the last few blocks, he gets to the van just about on time. Entering the door, he looks around and says "Hi." to anyone who's gotten there before him.

Wraith looks up as PD walks in, "Hey bud. Good job getting that picture, it was a big help. At least now I know what I'm going up against. Though in this case its still gunna be a killer to bypass. I should be able to handle it though."

Giving Wraith a mock salute with two fingers, PD smiles, "It was nothing. Hell, they're even running the story I wrote up about Factor Five so I'm getting paid for the interview, too! Just glad to be pulling my own weight. Van looks good. If I'm gonna be driving this behemoth," he comments, thinking about the difference in size between this and his Americar, "I want to see the controls."

Pulling on a pair of surgical latex gloves that should (A) keep his fingerprints off of the car and (B) still allow him to throw his knives without having them get caught on cotton or some other type of cloth, PD opens the driver's side door and gets in. He checks the lights, blinkers, sets the mirrors, and adjusts the seat for comfort. He looks over the dashboard to become aquanted with it's layout and sets the radio to his favorite jazz station, WJZZ broadcasting on the University's frequency.

Getting back out of the car he asks, "We got any soy-caff around here?"

Wraith grins, "Nope. But if you wanna go get some, you can grab a cup for me too."

"There a place nearby? I'll get one for everyone."

Removing his gloves and taking directions from Wrait, and calling out, "Don't leave without me." as he exits the garage, he walks to the cafe to get one soy-cafe for each of the group members. Getting back in about 10 minutes, he arrives juggling the paper cups in their cardboard holder. "Coffee's here!"

Trace smiles at PD's entrance. He hadn't left the van, he wanted to make sure it wasn't tampered with. Instead he spent the intervening hour going over the plan in his head, looking for holes or things to improve. He didn't find any. "Well when everyones ready to roll, we will do our dry run, and then head out."