Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

Your touching reunion is brought to an abrupt halt almost before it has began as one of the sleeping goons, the skinny one, jerks on the floor and then lolls round with half of the back of his head missing...your barely hear the whisper of the second round as it impacts in the chipped vat boy but it definitely came from across the street, high level, in the opposite direction from where the hunters came from – it would seem there’s a third player in this little game...

Your purloined commlink suddenly lights up and the trace immediately reactivates

<<Guys, what the he...oh shit...fuckers are cutting us down...get your arses back here, forget the fragging kid we’ll tag him later, where’s he gonna go? We’ve got a lock on his sig and enough bloo...fuc...>>

The trace completes, you have a window of around fifty meters that might contain the Bastard and whatever is left of his team...now you just need to worry about your own shooter

@Seth
[April 15th 2072; 20:30: Kobe Terrace Park]

Ember paused as if in thought, not that there was much to consider...this gentleman was prepared to pay him to investigate something that he intended to do without payment...this just meant that he had the resources to smooth that investigation and make sure the right people talked to him. There was always the possibility that this was an elaborate way of getting him to follow a wild chase, such things weren’t unknown in the shadows, but it should be a quick enough task to verify that Charlotte, or more precisely Argent, had been working this angle.

“Oui, this will be acceptable, Jon, I will start with Monsieur Allenby as you suggest. I presume I am free to conduct this investigation as I see fit and hire the resources I require to complete it successfully? This sum will accommodate an additional hire, but I trust that we will be able to negotiate additional fees if the job warrants personnel over and above this?”

Cursing his lack of tech savvy he dialled up the holographic keyboard on his ancient commlink and clumsily worked his way through the security protocols that would allow him to access the secure network at home. From there he followed an obscure link into Argent’s private node and her contacts lists.

He needed some affordable talent and fast...someone to watch his back while negotiations were carried out. Scrolling through he paused abruptly on a face and rep sheet...this one, he’d seen her somewhere before...hadn’t she been at the bar...the Troll something or other, looking over Tempest without the usual fear and suspicion...

He penned a text to her, hoping that she would be able to assist him...

<<@Copperhead: If you are available for immediate work for the next week (as a minimum contract period) I would like to meet to discuss. The job is initially investigation work but with a potential threat bonus payment. I will be at the Horny Troll in one hour. Mr J.>>

<<@Mr Allenby: I have been contracted to investigate the threats made against you and an assault on Argent by unknown parties. I would like to request a meeting in a place of your choosing to discuss these events. I have a personal relationship with Argent and this investigation is of the upmost importance to me.>>

It was possible that they would need technical assistance to analyse the death threats but that could wait until after their discussion with Allenby, it was unlikely that they would pick something up that the techs working for Mr J hadn’t already found...

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

Jamie’s experience has sensitized her to notice bullet trajectories. From her crouched position beside the car, she is mostly covered against falling fire. She scuttles sideways closer to it just in case the shooter is not precisely where she thinks it is. She calls out, ”Incoming fire, high and to the right.”

She opens up the rear door on her car and suggests, ”Let’s get moving.”

She tells hands Yokinko a more sensitive signal location utility and tells it to try and find a signal from the rooftop where the shooter is.

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

Jotamon's threat monitor exploded for the second time in less than that minute. Sniper, silenced weapon, and good with it. Detection and movement algorithms kicked in, focusing on anything remotely pipe shaped, or perhaps a broken window.

The combat expert system kicked in with the not very helpful information that he was in a poor tactical position. It began listing options:

• Drive car away: 80% success chance if they wish to keep the boy alive, 40% if they wish him dead
• Cross the street to force sniper to lean out: risky in event of second sniper. 60% success clean break
• Deploy thermal smoke grenades: supplies zero
• Suppressing fire: weapon choice <none> supplies zero

One shock after another, first the shooting, then Doza, and now the sniper. So much for a shopping trip. The next visit to the barrens would be in heavy armor, with guns and with minions. Enough wool gathering the only real option was to move. The car wasn't big enough for them all, so there was only one real option.

Jotamon tossed the kid in the Jack Rabbit then piled in on top, the Rutger Super Warhawk in his hand as he his 'ware spotted then rejected potential snipers. Triggering his commlink he threw a datagram to Doza:

<<Meet you at the first place I kissed you. Near the place where I worked. In Seattle. I'm glad you are alive. xx>>

That should be cryptic enough. Few people reading that would work out that was the Giga Stuffer Shack^TM cafe near the University.

"Drive!" he said to the surprisingly competent passerby.

@Ember
[April 15th 2072; 20:30: Kobe Terrace Park]

<<[My Allenby]. What! What! Who is this? How did you get my private number! Go away? I don't know Charlotte. If you bother me again I will set Lone Star on you >>

Jonathon Johnson smiles wryly at the stress Ember puts on his name, and passes a card over.

"So we have a deal then. The number on this card is valid for 48 hours."

He turns back to the gardening and continues the weeding.

@Aria
[April 15th 2072; 20:31: The Horny Troll]

Copperhead was swaying distractedly in time to the thrash metal music playing in the Horny Troll. The scales on her arms and torso glittered, reflecting the lights of the nearby pool table. While several of the local trogs were ogling her, and not for her cyberware, she seemed unaware of them. Snake was hissing inside her head. The mage that had been here earlier was still on her mind. Actually not so much the mage, but the glowing spirit that had sat next to him. She had looked at it in the astral and it was a thing of power and beauty. She had been wondering how to approach them when the yaks had come in and he had left with them.

Her thought drifted to Mr O. He had given her a couple of jobs and commended her on her good work. Then nothing. She wondered if something had happened to him. She had made some money on those runs but her funds were running low. She scratched her head as the incoming message tingled through the 'trode net woven into her long copper hair.

<<@Copperhead: If you are available for immediate work for the next week (as a minimum contract period) I would like to meet to discuss. The job is initially investigation work but with a potential threat bonus payment. I will be at the Horny Troll in one hour. Mr J.>>

She stopped swaying. A week's work! Her face broke into a grin and she sashayed over to the bar to order another round of beers while she carefully composed a reply.

<<@Mr J.: I am currently available for employment and can be at the specified location in one hour.>>

She took a long drink of soybeer and reviewed the message. No typos, sounds professional, looks good. She thought 'send' and the message disappeared into the ether. She swaggered back to the pool table and handed beers to Cutter and Slater. "I jus' got a offer fer some work. Mr J. will be here in an hour. Will you two keep an eye on me?"

Slater made a face. "Do I have to? Half the trogs in the bar are already drooling over you.".

Cutter just rolled his eyes and pulled the troll into a tight embrace. "You know we will, babes.".

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE 40th / 41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

@Jamie

Your agent locates a hidden node in an apartment building on the far side of the street...given that it’s close to an open window there’s a fair chance it’s your shooter, most of the squatting inhabitants won’t have a comm. let alone one in hidden mode.

@Doza
He may be your long lost love but he seems to be about to give you the slip again, with your package no less...granted he’s given you a cryptic message that isn’t too hard for you to decipher (you are glad now that you’ve resurrected this comm. number), but do you trust him? Life in the shadows changes people and you’ve been apart for a long time now...

@Jotamon
You land heavily on the kid in the cramped confines of the jackrabbit...hopefully you haven’t done him any more harm, in his current state he’s unlikely to have felt it even if you did.

You may not hear the next shot from inside the car but you certainly see the results as the rear window crazes under a close burst...you suspect the bastard is shooting a suppressed assault rifle at you and this car hasn’t got the weight to support any kind of decent armour...let’s hope your new driver can get you the hell out of dodge soon...at least there’s no other traffic to worry about so it’s a straight flight outa here

@Seth
[April 15th 2072; 20:30: Kobe Terrace Park]

Merde encore, this bastard is going to give him the runaround...given Ember’s current state of mind he was in no mood to be messed about.

He pressed his rudimentary (almost nonexistent) computer skills to the max to call up a mapping site and find his quarry. Not far from here, getting David to pick him up and drive him to Redmond and then come back would be a gross waste of time. Perhaps he could get Copperhead to come to him? Now, to find some nearby neutral ground for a meeting

<<@Copperhead: My apologies, we may have to skip the formalities of a sit down employment meeting. I require some backup for a semi-hostile meet with the first target of our investigation. If you are prepared to meet me outside the Aurora shopping centre north of Downtown instead then we can discuss the investigation and whether you wish to assist me. Either way I will pay you 100 nuyen for your trouble.>>

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE 40th / 41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

This guy's hiding his commlink. I bet I'm not going to be able to use it against him.

Jamie pulls open the front door and jumps in on her belly. Reaching back, she closes the door, then sends the command to the car's dogbrain: Accelerate forward NOW.

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

Jotamon starts scanning for the Sniper, both physically and electronically. This was a very unattractive position to be in: stationary in a vehicle with thin plastic roofs. The expert systems however were reporting some good news:

• Sound analysis: Assault Rifle. NOT repeat NOT Sniper rifle
• Cover assessment: If primary target needed alive excellent. If kid needed dead adequate
• Immediate threat: Sniper designated bandit1, Unknown armed third party, designated bandit 2
• Recommend: Locate Sniper, Neutralize unknown third party

The really good news for Jotamon was that the unknown armed third party designated bandit 2 was actually Doza. No matter what the reason for her faking her death and leaving, Jotamon was sure that if she wanted him dead, it would be all over. So she was probably here for the kid too, and likely no friend of the Sniper.

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

@Jamie & Jotamon

The jackrabbit accelerates away, its electric engine whining under the strain of its unaccustomed speed and Jotamon’s additional bulk, the kid hardly weighs enough for him to make a difference...no more bullets come winging your way and given the time that it takes you to get out of effective range the sniper would have had plenty of opportunity to fire again had they chosen to.

@Doza

They are gone...driving out of sight with your bonus on what passes for a back seat in those poxy subcompact cars. The sniper seems to have given up...you could try and pursue him or take off after the package...

[April 15th, 2072 10:16am; NE41st St. Touristville, Redmond]

Jamie climbs more comfortably into the driver’s seat. People get less nervy if they think there’s actually a person driving. She maps out a quick route that’s away from the node she traced before. I suspect he’s out of the picture, but I don’t want to drive into that firefight.

Once the dogbrain is occupied with it’s new order, Jamie maps a longer route taking them to the 405.

[April 15th, 2072 10:17am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

Jotamon's ware calms down, and for the second time in as many minutes, he experiences the shock of coming down from combat. After a few deep breaths and mental exercises to calm his shaking hands....

"I have to thank you for your help. Not many people would have stepped forwards at a time like that. I hope that you don't come to regret it."

"Here is my business card." Jotaman hands over an old fashioned business card that reads "Mareno, F. Technician". "You have done me a great favor today: possibly life saving, and I always pay my debts. It seems to me that you now have a difficult choice to make. It is likely that your presence in that place was noted, and forces will be brought to bear to find out what you know. Those forces may well use pliers, and other unpleasant things. You seem very competent, so it is likely that if you start running now you may escape them. I can offer two other options. The Family can protect you for a while, keeping you out the way, perhaps with a new identity, or you can see this out to the end.

"The same choices are available to me. Personally I am going to find out what is happening, and then decide whether to negotiate with, threaten, flee or eliminate the opposition. "

"I think that it is clear that a number of people want this child. Some want him dead. Some probably either want him alive, want the information he possesses, or want some item that he carries. Currently we don't know which. I am ethically opposed to handing him over to those that want him dead or injured. "

"The troll that appeared at the end. I used to know her. I thought she was dead..." he pauses "it seems to me, that given her attire she was there for the child as well. Knowing her I doubt very much that the safety of the child was threatened. I have arranged to meet her, and she may well have intelligence about what happened."

"You should know a few things about me to help you make your mind up. Though an accident of birth, I was born into The Family, and am currently in good standing with them. I do not routinely engage in violence, although such is always a possibility for people in the profession that I am in. I am somewhat skilled in dealing with computers and people, although usually " he laughs "it is in the form of an audit rather than hacking"

[April 15th, 2072 10:17am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry]
[PAN = Airwave, Passive. Id = May Jiang]

Having escaped the local area, Jamie reactivates her Airwave and hides her cybercomm. She then follows her after-action protocol. She reboots her cybercomm. Once it comes back up, she runs a viral scan, then deploys Yokinko to protect it.

Jamie is familiar with the Family. Harper warned her to steer clear. That sort of protection usually came at too high a cost. Interesting that they let this guy have ethics. Now how do I say no without offense.

Aloud, she responds, "I'm not interested giving up so easily. Not many consider the life of a child worth something. I still do. Now when he wakes up and tells us he owed them some money, I walk away. I think that's unlikely. I count 5 operatives deployed to acquire him. To me, that makes him important. Finding out why will be interesting."

"I have an e-profile I can send you if you want more information about me. You can call me Jamie. We need to drop their commlinks in the box in the trunk. It should mask the signal.

Life in the sprawl makes violence required. It's not my preferred mode. I prefer computers to people, but both can be suborned if you know how. But people tend to be a bit less predictable."

@Seth, Aria
[April 15th 2072; 20:30: Horny Troll]

Copperhead was nursing her fourth beer when Mr J.'s second message arrived.

Frag, this run looks like trouble already.

She finished her beer and strolled over to the pool tables.

"I need a lift to Aurora mall downtown. Either of you two sober enough to drive me there. And can you get a car at short notice."

Her two friends shook their heads. "No wheels" grunted Cutter. "Same. And I'm also too drunk to be driving downtown." replied the elf.

Copperhead turned to the trogs at the next table. "Hey boys. I needs a ride downtown. Got 50 yen for da guy who can get me dere in an hour."

Afters some heated discussion, posturing and a short scuffle, a fat troll called Porkbelly approached her with a grin. "I got's a ride big enough for both of us."

Indeed the fat troll's Harley was modded for a troll-sized driver and passenger. She gave him directions to her squat first where she picked up her ancient shotgun and folding staff along with a few other items. Then climbing back on the bike she composed a message to Mr J.

<<@Mr J. : Got your message. I am on my way to the mall now and should be there in about an hour. Where should we meet and how will I recognise you?>>

@Seth, Copperhead, Demon
[April 15th 2072; 20:30: Kobe Terrace Park]

Ah, good Copperhead was coming...given the circumstances Ember hadn’t been sure that she would. He headed for the Aurora on foot as there was time to allow her to arrive and it gave him time to think...the rain even seemed to be holding off which made the walk almost pleasant, if circumstances were different anyway, his mind kept going back to his family battered and broken...when he found whoever was responsible...he repressed that thought. Lugh was strong in him tonight and although he usually followed the healing aspect of his warmth there was no denying the warrior in him!

Talking of warriors he was becoming concerned that this was too big for just two (even if Copperhead was bigger than most)...it may be that an additional body would help. Browsing the directories again he dismissed several names and then saw Demon. The man was annoying and over familiar with Charlotte but his skills were undeniable...if he was available then it would at least be a chance to speak to someone without using this barbaric tongue...

He composed two texts and fired them into the ether...

<<@Copperhead: You will recognise me...or at least my spirit companion that you were busy admiring this evening. I saw you at the Troll earlier and when your name came up again it seemed fortune’s hand was in play. I will see you within the hour. E.>>

<<@Demon: If you are interested in some investigative work then meet me at the Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown in 1 hour. Ember.>>

[April 15th, 2072 10:17am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

"Thanks for the data link. OK lets head to the Stuffer Shack^TM near the University. "

"I don't suppose you have a spoof chip for this marvelous vehicle do you? I might know a man who knows a thing or two about them, but it would take us a couple of days to arrange a meet.

"Do you think he needs urgent medical attention? " Jotamon gestures somewhat uncomfortably at the unconscious child

Doza zigzags across the street, laying down a burst of suppressing fire as she does so. As she flattens against the wall she risks a quick glance at the speeding jackrabbit. The back window has obviously been hit by the sniper, as the plastiglass is starred but, thankfully, not broken.

The unseen gunman seemed to have stopped firing. Is it because his target has now disappeared round a corner or due to keeping his head down as random bullets danced around him? Doza considers her options, one is to cut and run while the sniper is recovering from the suppressing fire. The alternative of trying to find him and ask, oh so nicely, what the frag was going on had a certain appeal.

"Decisions, decisions" she mutters.

One thing she's learnt is it's not a good idea to rush into unknown territory, against unknown odds, without any backup.

"She who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day" With this thought she safeties her gun and slips down the alley beside the building.
"Besides, I have a date, a dinner date at that!"

@Seth, Aria, Demon
[April 15th 2072; 20:31: On the way to Aurora mall]

Copperhead throws back her head, her long hair billowing in the bike's slipstream, and lets out a deep, throaty laugh when she reads Ember's text.

Sonofabitch she thinks to herself. I though that fragger looked familiar but was too distracted by the fraggin spirit to pay him any attention.

She settles back against Porkbelly's back and gives him a wink in the rear-view mirror. The trog leers back at her.

It takes about fifty minutes to reach the mall. She dials up 50 yen on her credstick and transfers it to him.

"Thanks chummer" she grins at him then turns to walk away. He manages to smack her ass as he revs his bike and pulls a tight turn before burning off into the dark.

She gives a little yelp, drowned by the roar of the Harley's engine. So much for the stealthy approach.

She scans about for Ember, hoping that the mall security are asleep on the job.

[April 15th, 2072 10:18am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry]
[PAN = Airwave, Passive. Id = May Jiang]

Jamie pulls up the mapchip on her comm. She outlines a route to the "Stuffer ShackTM near the University." She sends a route to the dogbrain driving the car. She takes a look at the card sent to her. Ugh, hardcopy. She snaps a picture with her eyecam. Using her sensor software suite, she isolates the different pieces of data and drops them into a contact list. She takes a snapshot of the location she sent the car to and sends it to Mareno, F. with a confirmation request.

While all this is going on in her head, Jamie smiles smugly, "I had one installed a while back. I still pay for service, but it's hard to figure out where I am. My car's not a hot rod, but I keep it on the downlow."

She turns around and looks at the kid. "I'm not sure. The medkit didn't think he was suffering from anything acute. Say, what are we going to do with him at the Stuffer Shack?"

[April 15th, 2072 20:15; at Elliot's on Pier 60]
[PAN = Elite, Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

With a glass of Cassis in one hand and a freshly-lit cigarette in the other, Demon sits back and watches the sun begin to set into the Sound with a vibrant display of reds and oranges. He takes a long drag from the cigarette, and then exhales the smoke slowly. He glances back at the half-filled glass of white wine, one of the few vices from home that the Marseillais is able to indulge in while on his self-imposed exile from la mere patrie. The glass of Cassis had cost him nearly the same amount of money as he earned in "dealing an abrupt end" to an unfortunate soul, so he makes sure to relish each sip. After all, he would and does kill for a good glass of wine.

The other vice normally comes a bit cheaper---costing but a wink or a well-crafted compliment, but tonight Elliot's is filled with couples and more than a few Gianelli pawns. Not a single available woman in the room.

How incredibly banal a way to enjoy the end of a beautiful day and an expensive glass of wine, he mentally grumbles. He spots three women---unfortunately engaged with what look to be professional criminals---who might be worth pursuing, but the last thing he wants is to call unwanted attention to himself. Furthermore, if he continues his success in the shadows, the Gianellis may end up being future employers. Such a conflit would be bad for business.

Instead, he takes another sip of Cassis and holds the glass up to the sunset, watching the light play across the liquid.

A waiter approaches him.

"Monsieur, are you sure I cannot interest you in an entree or even an hors-doeuvre?" he asks in stilted French.

Demon merely smiles and shakes his head. His stomach gently rumbles in disagreement, though. He has always wanted to try the bouillabasse, but he would have to forego eating for an entire week in order to have it.

"I am certain, my friend, though I appreciate your concern. I am more than happy with the wine, the air, and the atmosphere," he answers in immaculate French. Although, he thinks to himself, I would be incredibly thankful if you could bring me a woman to share it with. Or, at least something of interest to break up this monotony...

April 15th, 2072 10:18am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

"To be honest, when I arranged the meet I had to invent a code on the moment, as I didn't have a crypto set up with the lady (She's called Doza by the way). I was mostly trying to not get shot. In retrospect I could have picked a better spot.

Thinking about it, I suggest that we meet in the car park. Isn't in the middle of a shopping area so we could buy some kids clothes. After meeting with Doza, if we are still looking after him, we can head to, say, my place. Its a two bedroom flat, so we can put him in the spare room while he sleeps it off, and we go info gathering"

Say, I wonder if the kid has any ID on him..."

@Seth, Copperhead & Demon

[April 15th 2072; 21:25; Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown Seattle]

Ember watched Copperhead approach. She was tall and muscled as most trolls were and the cyberarms were interesting, particularly in light of the Talent that he detected lurking in her aura.

He just hoped that Demon would choose to join them. As much as he disliked the odious killer, some hard core stealthy muscle might be necessary once he found out what was really going on...not that he intended to let anyone else exact his revenge...that would be Lugh’s prerogative.

“Copperhead, I am glad you decided to come...I am Ember”

He walked down the steps towards her

“Let’s go inside before the weather decides to worsen again and I can explain what’s going on and you can decide whether you can help me.”

He selected a quiet eatery on the ground floor of the mall...which was still busy despite the hour. He indicated that she should order something if she wished and then proceeded to fill her in on the modicum of details that he had

“My wife Argent was investigating a series of death threats against a corporate individual and was subsequently attacked. As I’m sure you’ll appreciate this is personal for me, but as she is a fixer of repute in the shadows it sets a bad precedent if neutral parties are targeted and that should be enough reason alone to follow this up.

I intend to speak to the target of the death threats but he doesn’t know me and is trying to avoid the issue and myself. I am in no mood to, how do you say it? Pussy foot around? I intend to confront him and get more intel and there is a chance that we will need to deal with any guards that try and interfere.

From there I am not sure where this investigation will lead and so I will give you the opportunity to bow out at any time and keep the money you have earned up to that point...it is not something most employers would do I believe?

I hope we will have at least one other joining us but I have yet to hear back from him. Between us I believe we have most of the bases covered, apart perhaps from matrix support. If it becomes evident that this is required then I’m sure I can acquire some.

Do you have any questions?”

[April 15th, 2072 20:33; at Elliot's on Pier 60]
[PAN = Elite, Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Demon's eyes suddenly grow wide in genuine surprise as he sees a digital message scrawled in French pop up on his PAN. When he sees who wrote it, he is delighted. Demon has always enjoyed Ember's company---though to be honest, he enjoys the company of anyone who appreciates the subtle and complex pleasures of French culture. However, he suspects the feeling is not mutual. An understandable reaction to anyone who voluntarily walks the assassin's path, although he personally tries to carry the profession out in as civilized and delicate a manner as possible.

He scrawls his own reply without hesitation.

<<@Ember: Mon ami, I would be delighted to accept the invitation! ~D>>

However, he then sighs heavily at what must be done in order to make it in time to the meeting. He puts out his cigarette in the table's ashtray with a deft twist of his hand and then closes his eyes.

He chugs the remaining half-glass of the wine.

A shame. It is like pissing on a Monet. Alas, it cannot be helped, he thinks to himself sadly. He flags down the waiter and leaves him a tip---along with a note naming a local French tutor. As he leaves, though. A thought begins to dawn upon him.

Perhaps I will be savoring that bouillabasse sooner than I thought...

[April 15th, 2072 21:33; Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown Seattle]
[PAN = Elite, Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Demon swings his jet black Suzuki Mirage into the nearest open parking spot he can find. He kills the engine and slides off the seat, somewhat frustrated that nighttime traffic kept him from making his appointment on time. Being fashionably late to a party is one thing, but being fashionably late to a potential job is somewhat...unprofessional. He quickly makes his way to the mall's entrance, inconspicuously checking his "plain attire" for its hidden arsenal.

The two kompacts...check. The guardian...check. The knife...check. The staff...check. The baton...check. The two flash-paks...check. A perfect array should this "meet and greet" happen to attract bad luck...

He walks into the mall, flashing a confident grin at a few female passer-bys. He lets his eyes trail the attractive---and apparently interested---shoppers as their paths begin to cross until something far more pressing grabs his attention.

Seeing a somewhat reflective window by a fast food restaurant, he stops to inspect his appearance. Seeing that the motorcycle ride managed to tussle his coiffure, he adjusts the stray hairs and adjusts his clothes---straightening the lapels on his lined coat, centering his belt buckle and smoothing out unwanted creases in his pants. When his eyes focus past his own reflection, he notices a familiar face in the establishment. He quickly walks inside.

"My friend, how good it is to see you again," he says to Ember, his tenor voice adopting a sing-song tone as he speaks in their native tongue, "I apologize for my lateness, but it could not be avoided. There was traffic between the pier and here. I certainly hope I have not missed anything. Ah, and what of this colorful fellowship of acquaintances you have gathered here? Do they speak the mother tongue as well?"

@Seth, Aria & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:25; Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown Seattle]

Copperhead grins down at the mage. “Ember, huh. I thought I recognised you at the bar but was kinda distracted by your spirit."

She follows him into the eatery and orders a quad burger, mega fries and a large nukacola. She listens carefully to his story as she eats, her brow furrowed in concentration. When he finishes she thinks for a long moment, then blurts out several questions one after the other.

“Your say your wife was attacked. Was she hurt bad? What was da nature of da attack? Mugged, shot, magic? Dis guy you want to talk to, mundane, mage, cybered? If we need to deal wid any guards, non-lethal or lethal takedown? Oh, and I know a guy if you need a hacker."

She seems slighty embarrased by the barrage of questions and looks down at her plate and plays with her food.

She glances up as a smartly-dressed figure apporaches and speaks to Ember in a foreign language.

“Huh?"

April 15th, 2072 10:18am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry
[Internal PAN=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]
[Airwave PAN=Passive. Id = <May Jiang>]

That reminds me, this kid may have a screamer on him. I haven't tried to find one yet. Speaking internally, she redirects her agent, Yokinko, try to find a hidden transmission from the kid.

To Mareno, she replies, "I don't mind meeting with...Doza. The car park is as good as the Stuffer Shack. Are you sure your place is a good idea? If these hunters find a way to track us or him, your home will no longer be safe. I might be able to find us a safehouse for after."

@Ember,Demon,Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 21:40; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Death's head studios is based in an old building dated from before the end of the century, constructed of grey concrete rather than the currently popular heavy construction plastic and ceramic composites. Decades of acid rain has pitted the concrete, and discolored it with black streaks, and rusty streaks anywhere near metal. Counting rows of windows you realise that Studio 500 is on the top floor. Entering the lobby you check the directory mounted on the wall next to the elevators. "Death Head - floor 5".

The building is old, and kind of odd. Only a few security cameras, not even a bulletproof macroplast security booth. And no security guards. Half a dozen corp wannabes are the only sign of life in the lobby, and they stare so hard at you that they practically trip over their own feet. No threat to you. You jander into the elevator and ride to the fifth floor.

The elevator opens on a narrow hall. The sign on the wall indicates Suite 500 is to your right. You follow the hallway, and sure enough, the door facing you reads "Death's Head Corporation". Pushing it open, you find yourselves in a a surprisingly well appointed (considering the state of the rest of the building) area. Platinum disks line the walls, half of the belonging to the Concrete Spectres, and the other half to Jet Black. The area is quiet this late on night, with dark and empty rooms stretching away on either side.

The rooms furnishings hold your attention for only a moment, then your eyes flick to the receptionist. A beautiful woman with mane of golden hair. A man about the same age stands next to her, wearing inexpensive copies of high corp fashion. When you walk into the room, he looks you up and down and backs away from the reception desk.

Impossibly blue eyes look at you, a little nervously, from the receptionist. "Um...yes?...Can I...Can I help you?"

April 15th, 2072 10:20am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

<<[Fat Tony]. Hey Tony. Frank here....Yeah he's doing OK same as usual...I have car here...No I don't want to break it up.....OK....Yes...No....Yes...Aha...Its a Jackrabbit...Yes...Aha...OK...Um. Can I get a spoof chip and some morphing plates....Yes...That's Right...Aha. We are near the University <here>. OK I'll throw a 100 nuyen as a tip if they are here in an hour. Hope the bambino gets better>> Five minutes after his conversation with Fat Tony the car chop shop man, Jotamon finally managed to get out what he wanted.

"OK. The Stuffer Shack is not far away. I suspect we will be here for a while, so just round the corner. If I remember rightly there is a Kombat Kidz next door, so I will dive in and grab some clothes. I've arranged for some clip on morphing plates and a spoofing chip to arrive. I suggest when we leave we drive under the Arcology and come out again. Its very hard to follow anyone doing that. If you can arrange a safe house that would be great. "

@Seth, Aria & Copperhead
[April 15th, 2072 21:33; Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown Seattle]
[PAN = Elite, Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Upon noticing the troll maiden's particularly flummoxed expression, Demon notices his faux pas. He flashes her an apologetic grin, and switches to English.

"Madame, you have my sincerest apologies. I did not know that you do not speak French, or else I would have used a more commonplace language. My name is French, so I find Demon is much easier for people to pronounce. Earlier, I was merely greeting my friend here and remarking that we have quite an eclectic collection of characters here, no? And might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, mon ami?"

April 15th, 2072 10:31am; Heading Downtown

@Doza

As you head downtown for your date with Jotamon your commlink chirps in your ear with an incoming text. It floats in front of your vision in unforgiving red

<<You were unable to secure the package. It is going downtown but hostile forces are tracking. They will be ambushed before they reach their destination unless you can warn them first.>>

@Jamie & Jotamon

The kid’s wound is superficial but never the less he is still getting blood all over the upholstery, and Jotamon, despite the rudimentary first aid you managed to apply before people started shooting at you. Some new clothes are perhaps in order for all of you...

Apart from the flick knife that you’ve already managed to relieve him of the kid has little in his pockets apart from some nicotine gum and an old fashioned key...no ‘link or any kind of electronic equipment that might have helped you trace him.

He is beginning to stir from his stupor, his eyelids fluttering weakly

It is at this point that Yokinko returns a verdict...<<foreign signal detected...RIFD tag...location {xxx.xxx}>> which places it behind the boy, more or less in the rear of your car, just about where the bullets went in...

@Seth, Aria & JxJxA
[April 15th, 2072 21:33; Aurora Shopping Mall, Downtown Seattle]

It takes Copperhead a moment to recover her composure. Her jaw snaps shut into a smile, albeit a tusk-filled one. She visibly straightens in her seat and wipes her mouth almost daintily with a paper napkin.

"Pleased ta meetcha Demon. I can get ma tusks round dat okay. I go by da handle Copperhead?"

She flicks her hair back over her shoulder for emphasis.

"Grab a pew. Ember was jus' filling me in on da job."

@Seth, Copperhead & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:35; Aurora Mall, Downtown Seattle]

Ember once more outlined the nature of the job, this time to Demon, doing his best to hide his dislike of the man and maintain a professional demeanour. Stressing the importance of the neutrality of fixers and the potential unbalance in the shadows that could result in a free for all...a lesson needed to be taught and that may involve the judicious use of violence! Demon would be the perfect person to accompany the team, for the correct remuneration of course...

Tempest returned at this point, taking a perverse delight in manifesting to see if she could upset any more delicate sensibilities. He had dispatched the spirit of air to try and locate Allenby and it seemed she had returned, hopefully with a location

~Were you able to find him?~

~Oui, but he is not at his home as you expected. He seems to be working late~

~Merde, that is downtown again. Let us hope he doesn’t move again before we reach him. I am in no mood to go chasing around the ‘plex. Thank you for your service Tempest, I will call on you one last time and then release you if you wish...~

“It seems that our quarry is further away than I had thought...in his offices downtown. I will have my driver take us unless you wish to use your own transport?”

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

After their abrupt ride downtown at a faster rate than perhaps David would normally have been comfortable with, Ember took the opportunity of the short lift ride to compose himself once more...

“We wish to speak with Monsieur Allenby. Tell him that Argent sent us to talk to him about his predicament. Here are my credentials...”

And he passed over a holo of himself with the family, feeling a pang as he looked at their smiling faces

“I would like this back please...”

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[Internal PAN=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]
[Airwave PAN=Passive. Id = <May Jiang>]

When Yokinko reports back, Jamie jumps like she got jabbed. Rooting around in her pocket, she pulls out her tag eraser. As she hands it back to Jotoman, she alerts, "He's got an RFID tag in him. Probably the bullets in his back. You'll have to get it close. We might have to pull those bullets out to blank them."

@Seth, Ember & Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 21:35; Aurora Mall, Downtown Seattle]
[PAN = Elite Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Demon gives Copperhead a polite albeit flourished bow when she mentions her name and highlights its source.

"Ah, much like the color of the sun setting into the Sound this evening, oui? A pleasure to make your acquaintance, madame."

He takes a seat and listens intently to Ember, completely oblivious to the man's thinly veiled disdain for him. He feels his stomach begin to throw a muffled tantrum as the pungent aroma of affordable food floods his nostrils. He is about to cave in and indulge in a bourgeois snack of pomme frites when Ember informs them that they have to leave right now. He gives a pained grin and acquiesces, accepting the gentleman's offer of a ride to the destination.

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Upon arriving at their destination, Demon takes note of the entrances and potential escape routes and does his best to remember whatever details might be important for making a hasty getaway. After all, if there are uncouth curs and vagabonds taking out Fixers, then who knows how dangerous the shadows have now become for runners.

However, all of that is forgotten once he sets eyes upon the receptionist. He begins to take a mental catalog of the blonde woman's features, especially her eyes. Stepping back and letting Ember take the lead, he begins thinking up of an abundance of sweet nothings to indulge her with.

@Seth, Ember & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:35; Aurora Mall, Downtown Seattle]

The frenchman is quite the charmer, but there is something off about him. Even Ember seems to have a problem with him, although he covers it well. Copperhead finishes her food as Ember brings Demon up to speed. Then the spirit reappears and Ember says they need to leave now.

"I'll take a lift if you got room for me in your ride, but ah...first ah need ta powder ma nose."

She hurries off to the bathroom. At least this place has troll-sizes facilities. It's still tight but she closes her eyes and hums the songs Snake had taught her. The response is quick. This is the sort of secret Snake likes know about. With her own air spirit in tow and her focus active, she checks herself in the mirror adjusting her troll-sized shades and checking her audio enhancers. Then she steps back out. With her eyes hidden behind mirrored lenses, she risks a look at the frenchman in the astral. He has a lot of cyberware, almost as much as Cutter. She joins the two men and follows them out to Ember's vehicle.

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Arriving at their destination, she pauses at the entrance. She hums and sways for a second as she petitions Snake to warn her of any threats. Then, adjusting her long coat to conceal her weapons, she nods to the two humans and follows them in with a swagger that she hopes looks professional and just a little threatening.

@Ember,Demon,Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 21:36; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Miss Tangent (the receptionist has a nameplate) responds very nervously. "Mr Allenby is in conference. He's very busy, and it's too late to arrange a meeting with him. Perhaps I can get you an appointment on...lets see...he's free in 3 days. Would 10am on the 18th be acceptable..." the voice trails off as she sees the look in Ember's eye. Between Demons's strange staring, Ember's quietly repressed violence, and Copperheads flagrant street style, this is a situation that she is not trained to deal with.

Taking a deep breath to control her shakes "Look its simple: he's not seeing people right now. Now if you wouldn't mind leaving: I don't want to have to call security"

April 15th, 2072 10:45am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

"OK I'm on it" Jotamon got out his microtonic toolkit from his leg pouch and began scanning. While working on it he thought aloud "If we are being tracked, they may well have an ambush team waiting for us. With blood on our clothes, we cannot just head to a high security area. I like the idea of leaving the tag in the car, and getting out...especially if we can do it when not being physically observed. How about if we pull down one of these streets, pile out, send the car on, and steal a car."

"Oh drek!" Doza spits out a curse as the message appears. Putting aside the many questions the text raises, all along the lines of "Who, how and why" she calls up Jotaman's last message and hits the Reply to Sender.
"Houston, we have a problem. Jotamon remember the Vegas clowns. Looking at the blood don't know if the the boy or the car needs cleaning more. Either way heads up chummer"

With that Doza steps up the pace and opens the throttle on her bike. Time to stop worrying about attracting attention and regroup. The boy had just been the source of her next pay check but now he was the centre of a bit of a mystery. The "Who, how and why" questions needed answers and Doza was good at getting answers.

"Once I figure out who to ask, nicely of course"

April 15th, 2072 10:45am; Leaving Touristville in a hurry
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

<<[Doza] Glad to hear from you. Yeah I hated those clowns too.. So we should be at the meet in another 5 minutes. >> Jotamon well remembered the clown. Doza and he had joked for hours about how much they bugged them. So now they needed an alternative meeting place. Pulling up his mapping software, Jotamon notes that the Federated Boeing Airport had an F rating, and was only a few hundred yards away. <<Do you remember how we got there? >> Speaking in code was so much easier when you had a shared experience. Jotamon noted that it was probably a good idea to set up a more formal system.

"Hang a left down there..." he pointed to Jamie.

@Seth, Aria and Alyena

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[Internal PAN=Passive. Id = <Information not available>]

Not quite sure where they are going, Jamie adjusts the route to follow the directions Mareno has given her so far, then she passes it over to the dogbrian.

If we're carrying a tracking signal, then there are hunters nearby. She shuts down her Airwave to keep it from being used against her. She brings her internal comm into Passive mode and casts a wide net to have all nearby nodes identified if they move against her soon.

@ Seth, Ember & Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 21:36; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[PAN = Elite Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Demon's lips purse slightly into a disappointed pout. Ah, now it appears that I shall be forced to ruin two works of art this evening...

He fires a quick message to his companions.

<<@ Ember & Copperhead: Should I treat this misguided girl as an unfortunate soul in need of removal?>>

@ Seth, Ember & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Copperhead steps forward and places her hands on the receptionist's desk. She leans forward until it creaks under her weight and gives the nervous woman a tusky sneer.

Three days! Lady, you fink me and my colleagues hauled our collective asses down here late at night so you could tell us we had ta wait three fraggin days? Our colleague was injured lookin inta biz on behalf of yer boss. For all we know, whoever hurt her could be on dere way here now. So I suggest dat you go tell him we is here instead of calling security, neh?"

Her staredown is interrupted by Demon's message. She draws herself up to her full height and takes a step back, waiting to see the woman's response.

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

The receptionist is getting gradually more and more terrified. "But...I can't let you in...he would fire me. That's how I got the job. Please can I j..j..just make you an appointment...please..." She begins to sob.

The corporate guy that is her with her (his name tag marks him as David Greaves, Sound Technician) moves to comfort her. "You should go. You're scaring her. Allanby is in that room, the way out is over there, pick one but stop scaring her. Now leave or I'll call Knight Errant" He points to the corner room with the light on, and the 'Mr Allanby' name plate.

@ Seth, Ember & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Copperhead feels a pang of remorse, then a rising anger. Ares took her arms and kept her in a menial job for years until she escaped. Now this poor woman was crying because she was so worried about losing her job that she was prepared to stand up to two meter tall, cybered troll. Fraggin corps! Do what the frag they like. And usually get away with it too.

She glares at the man, and hisses a reply, "Thanks, Dave."

She nods towards Allenby's room then turns back to the sobbing woman, her expression softening. "Sorry for scaring you miz, but our biz is urgent. And if your boss is such a dick dat he would fire you coz you couldn't stop us from barging in, den you best find a new one."

She turns away from the desk and starts towards Allenby's office. As she does she draws out her folding staff and with a practiced move, click-clacks it out to its full length.

[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[Pan=Hidden. Id = <Information not available>]

The inner office is larger than the reception area, and even better decorated. More platinum discs and other awards shine on the walls highlighted by track lightning mounted on the ceiling. A huge desk - heavy dark wood, probably an antique - takes up the middle of the room. A sophisticated computer system sits on top of it. You are very surprised to see that in this day of wifi the dwarf behind the desk is connected to the computer with a datajack and a fibre optic. Obviously he doesn't trust wireless communications.

The receptions is running after you "No no...you can't go in..." then "I'm sorry Mr Allenby I tried to stop them...but..."

The dwarf is ugly. He has a thick black beard and an unruly beard: obviously Allenby. A large foul smelling cigar is stuck between his teeth. In his right hand is a fine cut glass half full of brandy. Flint hard eyes glare out at you from a wrinkled leathery face. The dwarf's lips draw back from his teeth in snarl, removes the cheroot and growls

"And just who the frag are you?"

@Seth, Copperhead & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

Ember stepped out from behind the hulking form of Copperhead

“I am Ember, these at present are my associates and you do not need their names. I would apologise for barging in but given our recent brief conversation you must have realised we were coming?”

He gestured to Demon, “Would you mind watching the door and ensuring nobody does anything foolish like summon security? We are not here to fight and I would prefer it if nobody was hurt…”

He turned back to Allenby,

“You hired my wife to look into your problems. You will be aware by now that she was attacked earlier today, run off the road while my family were in the car. Apart from the precedent of attacking a neutral fixer, which cannot be tolerated, this has made me understandably very angry and I require answers.

The fringe benefit for yourself is that I will continue with the investigation and associates of yours are paying the bills to ensure this matter is resolved as quickly as possible.

Now, perhaps you could begin with whatever it was that you briefed my wife on? I already have details of the threats, I am more interested in what you make of them and who you think might be responsible?”

@ Seth, Ember & Copperhead
[April 15th 2072; 21:45; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]
[PAN = Elite Passive ID = Aubert Benoit]

Hearing Dave cave erases the pout from Demon's face. Quelle chance, a chevalier has come to rescue the lady, he thinks to himself. And perhaps I detect a slight hint of amorous desire in his voice...

"And people say chivalry is dead," he says to Dave as he walks on by, flashing the man a sly smile. He walks to the receptionist's desk before entering Mr. Allenby's anachronistic lair.

"If I may, mon cheri, I would not worry about what your employer might think. You can always tell him that it was a matter of life and death. One diffused by the quick thinking of Monsieur Dave."

He smirks to himself as he walks away, satisfied at possibly sparking some sort of romance between the two. He had hoped to indulge himself with his own foray into the art of amour before receiving Ember's message. However, if he was not going to get laid tonight, then he might as well help someone else achieve that goal.

As he steps into Mr. Allenby's office, he immediately grimaces as his senses are assaulted by the dwarf's garishly unpleasant exhibition of bad taste. Track lighting??? Combined with that desk??? And visible wires?!? Merde, I would shoot this man on principle if only to redecorate this atrocity with an appropriate color palette for what is undoubtedly 'the death of interior decorating.'

He stands in the background, allowing Copperhead and Ember to take the lead. He appreciates the importance of playing the part of the supporting character in this particular danse macabre. He represents the sheathed dagger---the threat of violence to come should more civilized means of communication fail. So he lets Ember do the talking, and happily agrees to watch the door should someone be stupid enough to call security.

In the meantime, he takes the opportunity to look about the room for unwanted eavesdroppers and potential complications should talks break down...

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]

You turn left onto Dearborn at Jotamon’s instruction and the first thing that you see is the looming bulk of the Arcology which suddenly fills the sky. Next you register the backlog of traffic which is slowing to a halt in a sea of red tail lights and beeping horns. You’re not sure if it’s a grid guide error or just volume of traffic but things are grinding to a halt ahead of you.

In your rear view mirror you see a rice rocket jump onto the pavement and, scattering pedestrians, come racing towards you. On the road side a second one accelerates through the traffic, weaving down the narrow gap between lanes. At the junction behind you, perhaps six or seven cars back, a Stepvan opens its side doors and two gun wielding black clad figures jump down...pointedly ignoring the KE drone passing overhead

Things could get ugly here fast!

@Jamie, Jotamon & Doza
[April 15th, 2072 10:47am; Dearborn, Downtown Seattle]
[Internal PAN=Passive. Id = <Information not available>]

"Oh, Drek!", Jamie curses aloud. "Too late on that tracker. We’ve got an assault team approaching from the rear."

As the dogbrain slows down, Jamie hunkers down in the driver seat, looking backwards. She frees her pistol from it’s holster and brings it’s targeting circuitry on-line. In her AR, Jamie, sets the closest biker in red. Yokinko, get me every signal routing to and from that biker.

@Seth, Copperhead & Demon
[April 15th 2072; 21:46; 2265 Occidental Avenue, Seattle]

"Ember eh? Not impressed. Not impressed at all. Not sure who hired you. When you are as independently successful as I am, parasites and worms are always trying to get a piece of the action. They can't bear to see an honest dwarf get ahead." The dwarf takes the cigar out of his mouth and turns his head slightly sideways looking into the distance. After a short pause. "I don't know what you mean by 'hiring your wife' and I am not in the habit of recruiting Fixers" He looks a little shifty then covers it with a glare "Miss Tangent here is the only wife I've hired recently..." he snarls at her "...and she won't be long in the post."

"I've pressed the PANICBUTTON^TM, Knight Errant will be here within 5 minutes. This meeting is being recorded, so any violence against me will see you in Jail".

"Now its up to you. You can stay and ask questions, and get arrested. Or get out before Knight Errant arrive. So you have a small number of minutes of my time. I'll remind you that this meeting is being relayed to Knight Errant 'Secure Watch' headquarters" He grins evilly his yellow stained teeth visible "and anything you say will be recorded and used in evidence against you. If you want to talk to me privately, loose the muscle and make an appointment with Miss Tangent here. If she still has a job. I'm free tomorrow"" Allanby punctuates his words by stabbing the air with his cigar "Now! " stab "I suggest" stab "you get" stab "Out!"