:: Blitz severs the connection as soon as she hears the info. Turning to the pilots she shouts just loud enough to be heard clearly over the noise. ::

"Your destination is 15 kilometers south of detroit. Monroe County Municipal. What's our eta?"

:: After hearing confirmation from the pilots and an estimated time range, she heads back to her seat and gives a thumbs up to everyone. ::

"I suggest you get some rest, we have about 5 hours."

:: With that, Blitz triggers her sleep regulator and sets her time for 4 hours. She's unconscious in a matter of seconds, despite the sometimes bumpy and loud flight. ::

"A Hawker Skytruck. The description provided matches almost perfectly. I'm at the field now, but there's no one here. What's our next move?"

Shepard's voice ended with a faint electronic squawk as the decryption algorithm attempted to make sense of a piece of ambient sound caught in the transmission. Damascus ignored it, intent on the data display in front of him. A map of the North American continent west of the Mississippi river glowed on one half of the flat screen display. On the other was a skeletonized tri-view of a Hawker-Siddly Skytruck along with its performance characteristics.

"Get on a plane. We know he's working against Novatech. The Skytruck was headed east. They can make it as far as the Ohio River Valley on one tank of gas. I'll get in touch with our people in St. Louis and tell them to put the feelers out in the smuggler stops just west of the Mississippi. We may get lucky. Any chance we can track them using their flight plan?"

"Negative. I don't have any ID info on the plane. Departure time can narrow the search window, but we're still going to have over a dozen hits. Maybe more."

Damascus nodded. "Run them down anyway. Throw out any of the flights which terminate at corporate airfields. Of the ones that are left, we'll work east to west to find them."

"I'm on it. What about you?"

"I've got a couple of loose ends that need to get tied up here before I can join you. I'll expect your sitrep at noon zulu. Out."

"Out."

Damascus glanced over at the kit laid out on the bed of the hotel room, then at the digital time display in the corner of his monitor. The numbers were running against him now. Clearing the displays, he dialed Kayko's number.

"Hey, it's me. Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?"

At last, time to move. Ringo grabbed his gear, including his deck, carefully stowed in its protective case, and tossed it into his usual bag. He was always ready to move, always ready to hit the road.

Taking a cab to Sea-Tac, he checked in at Eagle Global Logistics as Fury had instructed. His gear easily fit the parameters left in the fixer's instructions. With his gear safely stowed, his deck under his seat, Ringo settled back into his seat to enjoy the ride.

Placing a quick call to Fury, he left a simple message. "I'm en route. Awaiting any further instructions."

The sleek blue and white Cessna Caravan taxied away from the EGL terminal at Sea-Tac, across runways 16L and 16R, before parking in front of Hangar 344. The aircraft's twin turboprops wound down to idle. A non-descript man in a plain khaki jumpsuit climbed aboard and made his way down the narrow aisle to where Ringo sat. Running a scanner across the barcode on his ticket, he motioned for the young man to follow him. Two more individuals, dressed in identical unmarked jumpsuits, are busy retrieving Ringo's checked gear from the underfuselage compartment. Together, the four men hurry across the tarmac, disappearing into the darkness of Hangar 344 as the EGL Caravan taxis out to depart behind them.

Inside, the hangar is sectioned off by black plastic curtains strung on wires. At least half a dozen more jumpsuited men move through the building. A pair of what appear to be oddly shaped shipping canisters lie open on the floor. The left one has only a series of black webbing straps inside, but the right one has a strange padded arrangement inside, along with two compressed air tanks, powercells and displays. The nagging bad feeling in the back of Ringo's mind suddenly becomes a raging alarm. He glances towards the exit, only to meet the eyes of the man who pulled him off the plane.

"Fury told you no questions asked. Just stay frosty and we'll get you in the air as soon as possible."

He hands Ringo a mass of material which turns out to be an insulated jumpsuit with pressure seals at the neck, wrists, and ankles. Fluid bladders mounted over the thighs and stomach area add weight to the garment.

"You're fragging kidding me, right?" Ringo stares at the man, who shrugs, a cold smile on his face.

"You'll be more comfortable if you strip down to put it on, but it's up to you."

Fifteen minutes later, Ringo finishes strapping on the matching boots and gloves, only to be handed a full face helmet with a clear plastic visor. A pair of coiled tubes fall away from the back of the helmet and are clipped to quick-disconnect mounts on the inside of the pod. A single combined power and data cable plugs into the back of the helmet. The jumpsuited man helps seal the helmet to the neck of Ringo's pressure suit before powering up the system. Fresh oxygen flows from the mask mounted on the inside of the helmet, and the heads up display system flickers to life, a status read-out overlying his view in a forty percent mask. The man speaks into the boom mike of a radio headset.

"All right, can you hear me? O2 ok? Good. You'll only be able to communicate via the ICS now that you're suited up. I've got it set on vox, so just speak normally."

"How the frag am I supposed to speak normally when this thing feels like it's trying to crawl up my ass?"

The man laughed. "That's normal. Means the suits a good fit. Ok, we're just about set so you can climb into the pod. Feet first. There. Now there's a buckle between your legs, on either side of your waist, and here are your shoulder straps."

A minute later and Ringo was firmly strapped into the pod. The jumpsuited tech reached in and punched a couple of buttons on the left hand control panel. A new window opened in the corner of the heads up display, showing a view of the hangar door.

"All right, we're going to close up the pods now and mount 'em on the aircraft. It'll only take about fifteen minutes and then you'll be headed out. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

The lid of the pod closes slowly, followed by a series of clicks as its latched down tight. The only illumination inside is from the LED telltales of the equipment. Moments later, the pod rocks back and forth and then lifts into the air. After a brief journey, a solid thump resounds through the pod, followed by a series of mechanical snaps. Minutes pass. A new voice sounds over the ICS.

"Still awake in there?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Welcome to the Midnight Express. Our flight today will be an hour and forty minutes long, and take us just north of the Sioux border before we swing down across the Great Lakes to Detroit. I'm connecting you to the aircraft's secondary status display so you'll at least have something to watch in-flight. Prestart checks are complete, calling for engine start."

The heads up display image flickered for a moment before being replaced by the overhead view of an aircraft. Status readouts next to various systems flickered amber, showing idle and stand-by. After a second, a high pitched whine penetrated the pod, followed by a deep throated roar. The instrumentation for the left hand engine went from stand-by to flight ready. A minute later the right engine followed. Primary generators came online, followed by the digital flight control systems. Ailerons, rudders, and tail planes deflect in response to the flight control tests.

"Start and taxi checks complete. Hangar doors opening. We're on the roll."

As Ringo watched, the large double doors on the hangar face scrolled outward, revealing the blue taxiway lights leading towards the runway. With a jolt, the aircraft rolled forward into the darkness.

"Takeoff checks complete, you ready?"

"No, but does it matter?"

"Relax, kid, this is the fun part." The aircraft paused at the hold short of runway 16R for a minute before being cleared onto the field. Once aligned with centerline, the pilot engaged the brakes before running the throttles up on the twin F119-PW-200C engines. One last check of the instruments showed them green across the board, and the pilot released the brakes. Despite the g-suit, padding, and five point harness, the acceleration shoved Ringo towards the rear of the pod. After only two hundred meters of takeoff roll, the pilot rotated the nose skyward. Like a bird of prey taking wing for its nighttime hunt, the F-22 Raptor lifted into the darkness. Banking sharply, the aircraft continued to accelerate. Its mottled grey/black camoflage blended so well with the night sky that by the time it levelled off at a thousand meters, it was already invisible.

WHAT THE FRAG!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? was the prevelant thought running through Ringo's mind. Well, I've been doing smuggling for a while, and this is a sweet setup, I must say. It could be worse. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to grab some sleep, if that's even possible until the plane lands.

Parvati closes her eyes and sleeps what she can trying to ignore the sound of the engine as it roars in her ear...

Blitz awakens just as the Skytruck turns south onto the last leg of the flight, crossing over the shoreline of Lake Michigan. The flight path will carry them past Lansing before turning east again to Monroe County Municipal airfield. Thirty five minutes later, the loadmaster flashes the lock-up sign, followed by an open hand. Blitz nods, relaying the five minute call to the rest of the team. The Skytruck comes in fast and low, touching down at ninety knots and holding the nose off the ground to aerobrake. Taxiing off at mid-field, the aircraft turns in and parks on the ramp in front of the Red Falcon general aviation terminal. First one, then the other turboprop winds down, bringing a measure silence to the airfield once again. The rear cargo ramp of the aircraft cams down, allowing the team to disembark. The eastern horizon is brightening with the first light of dawn, and to the north, the skyline is dominated by the massive ferroconcrete blocks of central Detroit.

A dark arrowhead shaped aircraft rips through the sky overhead the airfield, eerily silent. At a point calculated by the onboard weapons management system explosive bolts blow the twin conformal pallets free from their fuselage mount points, deploying parachutes at the same time to slow their fall. The aircraft banks sharply, and disappears over the southern horizon just as its sonic boom thunders across the airfield. The twin pallets, still moving at a brisk thirty knots, hit the ground nose first and skid for a good fifteen meters onto the grass next to the taxiway. After a moment, each one emits a soft hiss and begins to melt. Sixty seconds later, all that's left of each is a black smear on the ground. Ringo climbs unsteadily to his feet, fighting the unfamiliar latches on the helmet for a moment before finally divesting himself of it. Glancing around, he shakes his head.

"Somebody call for a decker?"

Ivan roars in laugher at the little mans comments. He laughs so hard he has to gasp for breath as he speaks. "Very funny comrade, very funny."

After a few minutes more of chuckling he goes about making sure the immediate area is secure.

Dum de dum dum dum... A low rhythmic beat kept Ringo's mind occupied, as he sat back to enjoy the ride. After an undetermined about of time, he heard a small BOOM! That cannot be goooooooddddddd!!! flashed through his mind as his canister suddenly went into free fall. Just as suddenly, it jerked to a slow, gentle descent.

Probably a parachute. Man, Fury's really going through extreme measures to make sure I make it here subtlely. Good thing I didn't puke, would've probably made a bad impression on my employers.

Upon landing, and finding that his little pod just melted away, he found himself face to face with a group of people he presumed, read: fervently hoped were his employers, and decided a snappy sort of intro was best.

"Somebody call for a decker?" The big troll with a Russian accent seemed to find this hilarious, and said as much before wandering around, probably to secure the area. Glancing around, Ringo decided to be a little more professional this time. "So who's the topkick around here?" He waited for an answer.

Parvati looked at the man and then the area of which was around her.... well lets get in face mode she thought to herself...
from the just being awaking and flying her Irish accent came out thicker then ever.

"Hello, I am Parvati, this is here." motioning towards Blitz with respect. "Would be the woman you would want to talk to."

Knowing that she was going to have to get use to talking with random people now... Kali, I miss having other people do my bidding and me not getting noticed...

Ringo nods to Pavrati and looks at the woman who was indicated to be the leader.

He nods slightly in respect and deference. "Miss. Fury told me you were looking for a decker. You must want one pretty bad for her to ship me out here like this. She said there'd be an offer waiting when I got here. Well, I'm here now. So if may ask, Ms. Johnson, what's the score?"

He waits for a reply.

Clay busies himself with unloading the skytruck as their leader and decker have their little meet and greet.

:: Blitz rolls the van out of the back of the plane and immediaely launches the condor drone as the team begins to unpack the stored items. As it lifts into the air, she mentally directs the sensor feed display in the corner of her vision as she brings up the controls of her bike in her main field of view. When the jet releases it's cargo, her response is sharp and quick, targetting the package with a rocket launcher that reveals itself from a concealed compartment in the roof od the van. She runs her sensors over the package and the rockets secure themselves as she identifies the signature of a live body. ::

:: Slipping her helmet back on as she watches it land and begin to melt, she glances first at Ivan, then Gabrial, and finally Clay before directing her attention back to the man as he fumbles to his feet. The three imposing men read her intention immediately and fan out to form a semi circle around him as he finally removes the helmet. ::

:: As the big Russian is recovering from his laughter, Blitz watches Parvati step into Cosmo'a shoes with relative ease as she things to herself. ::

"Good. Was worried about doing this without Cosmo..she looks like she'll work out."

:: Blitz's body language is raw and as clear as a ganger swinging a 6 foot chain towards Ringo. She is dangerous, deadly and serious. She seems to stare him down emotionlessly as her team interacts with the newcomer. Over comms, her voice is cold and professional. ::

"One to P. Tell him to get in the van. We'll discuss details when we are secure. Three, Four and Five. Get everything packed up and out. We leave in 5."

:: With that, she turns away from Ringo, almost making it seem as if she ignored his question, but her mind is already busy as she powers up the gyro-stabilize motorcycle and slowly backs it out of the van. The riderless motorcycle moves over to where she is standing before she begins to buckle her custom designed SecArmor into the docks built into the high performance machine. ::

Parvati looks at Ringo and does as instructed,

"Here and now is not the place for us to discuss details. We need to to step into the van and ride with us and all will be clear then."

looking at him with ease and tilting her head to the side as she continues,

"Please if you don't mind."

As she motions to the van, and waits to enter in behind him.

Looking at the woman designated the boss, Ringo shrugs. Hmm...not very friendly. Oh well, she's the boss, if that's how she wants to play it, that's fine with me.

Turning back to the one known as Parvati, he nods and enters the van.

Ayuda flashes the fake credstick and a smile at the uninterested lady behind the counter, collecting the tickets and manuvering easily through the crowd to the secondary terminal the smaller company inhabited.

Good to see Blitz hasn't changed any in the last few weeks...still abrupt and paranoid.

:: As the team secures the gear and mounts up into the van, Blitz places another call to Fury. ::

"Can you send me some files on Detroit? I need GPS maps, and any data you have on the underworld/shadow world, potential contacts, sources for equipment etc. Just need a starting place."

:: Over comms, she address her team. ::

"Ok, get to know the new guy. Grill him a bit, I want to make sure he can take it. P, you are now Two. Our first matter of business is to secure a safehouse. We're going to do this the old fashioned way and find it ourselves. We'll head to the closest thing this place has to the barrens."

Not passing a video component of her transmission allows Fury to smirk at the voice on the line.

"I had a feeling you might need something. Standby to receive. The first is the most recent Thomas Guide as well as the 1:10000 UCASGS maps of the area. Next is the contact info for a fixer in the area named Boscoe. He runs a shop in Rivertown, which is east of downtown along the Detroit River. He'll be able to set you up with whatever you need. Let me know if you need anything else."

Reaching down, the slim fixer toggles the mechanical lockout on the room closed. Alone now in the eerie silence, she opens a battery powered data hardcard. The device runs through its power-up and self-check before displaying a ready icon.

"Asset Seven is operating in the greater Detroit area. Full files on her and her team are enclosed. Request maximum discretion in any surveillance operations. Non-interference mandated. Fury, DNA authorization enclosed."

Closing the device, she waited as the stand-by LED blinked, indicating her message was being encrypted. The LED flashed green. Reconnecting her systems to the power and data lines, she plugged the module into a concealed port on the hardware tower. The LED flashed green six times, then went red. Her message was on the way. Disconnecting the module, she dropped it into the trash. A moment later the matte black box emitted a pop and a halo of smoke.

:: Blits begins to go over the maps as she forwards the contact information back to Parvati. ::

" One to Two. Incoming contact info for a local fixer. You'll be fronting any activity with him."

:: Scanning over the maps and info, she growls at their lack of information. ::

"Two, get that decker to jump online and get us info about the area. I need a rundown warehouse district. Preferably a mild gang environment. Tell him it's a job interview."

Parvati without hesitation jumps on what was asked of her. Looking at Ringo she forwards the information to him and says with a slight smile,

"Hey love, if you could get us info on this area, mainly warehouse district and a mild gang environment that would be great... Think of it as a job interview."

she then coms back to Blitz

"Two to One, do you want me to go ahead and set up a meet with this "Fixer" now?"

"Negative. I want to keep us off the radar as much as possible. We'll only go through him if absolutely necessary."

Nodding at the woman who was giving him instructions, Ringo jacked in and was off cruising the Matrix. As the otherworldly beauty of the Matrix settled in around him, he couldn't help but wonder...

Who is the boss anyway? Seems like that rigger, but whew...talk about unfriendly...oh well. I'm not here to make friends, but still, kinda odd. Oh well, maybe that's why she's got that other girl, to talk for her. I've seen stranger arrangements than that...

As his icon took shape, he shrugged off those idle thoughts. They aren't paying me to analyze their social dynamics. In fact, if I don't do good here, they won't pay me at all. Rubbing his hands together in his mind, he dived into the Detroit grid, off to gather the information Ms. Johnson had asked for.

OK my little data packets...come to Ringo...and away we go!

Parvati response "Understood and agreed. out"

Thinking in deep thought now as she watched the decker drift off in to the cyber world... Boy, the things I get my self into... and this poor chap probably things we are a very unfriendly group. I have been known in the past to be nice and I guess one of us needs to some what befriend this guy so there is some form of trust if any. Well so be it I will... The things I put myself into for the reasons I do... I hope this can be weighted on the scales in my reincarnation when the time comes."

Responding to his digital pied piper's call, streams of data pour out of the Detroit grid: demographics, census information, crime statistics, Doc Wagon coverage areas, power and water usage graphs, pizza delivery areas. All siphoned, centrifuged, collated, and indexed by the deck's data handling systems. Two hours later, the information requested overlays the already provided maps of Detroit. Two areas immediately qualify themselves: the decaying industrial sector of west central Detroit, or the volatile slums of Auburn Hills.

West central Detroit is similar to the abandoned areas of Tacoma bordering the Barrens in Seattle, full of broken down warehouses, old processing and manufacturing plants, and industrial dumps. The area houses most of Detroits hard core junkies and drug addicts.

Auburn Hills is more like the Redmond area of Seattle, full of prefab housing, strip malls, and broken people. Most of the refugees that fled Chicago ended up in this neighborhood, the social upheaval bringing with it the inevitable crime and poverty. No fewer then seven different gangs vie for territory in the area, most of them supported by either the Mafia or Yakuza. Both crime syndicates seek to maintain the status quo in the area, since Auburn Hills is a breeding ground for young, discontented warriors looking to escape.

:: Hidden behind the faceless helmet, the corner of Blitz's lips turn up slightly. The data provided is precicely what she needed and with a thought, she directs the van to break the circut they had been following while waiting for the information. With the van in the lead, the condor flying above, and her motorcycle following a slightly varying path, she drives them towards Western Detroit. Using the condor as early surveillance, Blitz finds a warehouse with several avenues of escape, yet insulated from the traffic of the busier sections. She also makes her decision based on the Thermo readings, looking for a building with as few squatters as possible. ::

"One to Team. Ok, let's clear this place out and get set up. Make it quiet, pay them off if you can, kill them if you have to. Four and Five, scout the area and find out if there's a gang presence. Buy some basic security to keep them out of our hair. As soon as we have this place wired up, we'll have a little pow wow and get the decker to work on info gathering."

Although it didn't seem like the rigger was talking to him, Ringo figured he should make himself useful. Taking about an hour or two to ensure that at least part of the warehouse had basic electricity and utilities, he then sat down, and looked uncertainly at the rigger, and the woman who had been speaking to him this whole time.

"Er...all set here. Well, reasonably so at least." He shrugged. "It's about as good as I can do on short notice. So what exactly should I be looking for here? For that matter, what exactly am I on board to do? That hasn't been explained to me yet."

Shifting his gaze to focus squarely on Ms. Johnson, he continued, "For that matter, it hasn't even been decided if you want to accept me. I'm not exactly sure what the arrangement is here, but a little more information would be nice before proceeding." He waited for a response, uncertain if this would bring forth more info, or he'd get shot for questioning too much.

"Da," came Ivan's response over the radio. To Gabe and Clay he spoke aloud. "No killing unless ghouls or gangs, da?"

He grabbed his shotgun and headed for the main door. "Just like Tacoma, no?"

Wandering into the warehouse with a distinctly exhausted expression on his face Clay begins shooing a bunch of panicked looking squatters out of the structure. Passing each one a frozen meal pack as they exit he makes it clear that any return to the building would be a very bad idea at present time.

:: Blitz sets her helmet down on the seat of her bike as she runs her fingers through her tangly hair. For a moment, she seems to study the decker before her, almost sizing him up before unclipping the hardened breastplate of her SecArmor Jumpsuit. ::

"Good job. You're hired, if you want the job. We're hitting a megacorp for as much as we can snag. The bigger the price tag, the better. Your job will be to research the info we need about what we can steal, what security they have and any other information to prepare us for this mission. You have your choice of payment plans. Either 5k a day, or equal share of whatever we come away with."

Ringo looks at her steadily, evaluating, assessing. Well at least we're on speaking terms now. Something isn't right though. This isn't a normal job. She's too...intense...almost obsessive. I suppose it's her biz, since she's the Johnson, but still, if I had to guess...I'd say that somewhere along the line, biz became personal...

"Question. What will I be responsible for while you guys are actually snagging the stuff? Am I going in physically, just running overwatch, sitting around twindling my thumbs, what? And you got a name, or should I just be calling you Ms. Johnson?"

I wonder, is this gonna be an employee/employer relationship kinda thing, or do I actually get to join the team he thinks with a dry grin that he keeps to himself.

Parvati sets up what she can and starts to take it all in... studying every thing the decker has found and setting it into her memory.

After Blitz and Ringo talk she smiles and walks over to Ringo and with a calming voice and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Just let me know if there is anything I can get you or do for you."

Late morning sunshine, bright and warm for this area of the continent, greets Ayuda as he moves down the jetway into the Detroit Metro/Wayne County Airport. Compared to how he spent his vacation, the stiff wind off the river is downright chill. A clean shaven ork wearing a black watch cap and leather jacket leans against a yellow cab idling at the curb. He nods towards Ayuda.

"Need a lift, friend?"

:: Blitz actually laughs, a humorless, cynical sort of chuckle at him calling her Ms. Johnson. ::

"I'm no Johnson. Name's Blitz. You'll be running overwatch while we hit the place."

"Everybody out!" Bellows Ivan as he waves his massive arms at the squatters. He herds them toward the door where Clay is handing out food.

Ayuda nods, indicating for the orc to gather the bags from the wheeled cart he was pulling, handing over his carryon as he flipped out the cellphone and stepped a few feet away.

"Hello? Yes, I'm here. Give me an address."

:: Blitz answer's the phone and then looks at Ringo. ::

"Can you find me a coffee shop halfway between here and the main airport?"

Ringo nods. "Give me one second." Taking a moment to sift through all the data he collected on the area, he names an address that seems to fit Blitz's specifications.

While Blitz is giving that address to whoever she is talking to, he turns to Parvati and gives her a friendly smile. "Thanks. I appreciate that. It's good to know that not all us runners fit into that 'dark, grim, and unfriendly motif'," he replies in a joking, but friendly, tone.

Turning back to Blitz as she gets off the phone, he answers, "Sign me up for an equal share of whatever we come away with." He shrugs. "Yeah, less guaranteed money, but I prefer being part of a team. So chalk me down as part of Team Blitz." He gives her a friendly smile.

She doesn't seem to really get or find the joke amusing, responding with a 'are you really an idiot or were you just playing around and it better be the second' sort of look so he clears his throat a bit awkwardly and moves on. "Ahem. So, what's first on the agenda here?"

Parvati smirks at the comment that Ringo made....
thinking to herself...

Dark, grim, and unfriendly motif... Yeah, I would never fit those...

:: Blitz turns away from Ringo and back to the phone. ::

"Go to CyberLatte on 5th and Elm. I'll pick you up there."

:: Disconnecting from the call, Blitz turns to Ringo and nods once. ::

"Excellent. We'll be targeting either Central Industrial or Pioneer Cybernetics. Start researching those facilities. I want to know what they are working on, and what's worth stealing. If you can find any unusual research projects, concentrate in those areas. I have a few errands to run."

:: Turning to address the team, she zips her suit back up and begins locking the chest plate. The cool air was nice, but it's back to work. ::

"Ok, change frequencies as follows. Alpha 234.1, Beta 987.2 and Charlie 324.4. We're on Alpha. Ivan, come with me. I'll want you as backup to get Ayuda."

:: As she says this, the door to the van opens by way of invitation. Seconds later, the matte black paint job digitizes into a generic delivery truck design and the license plate morphs accordingly. Swinging onto her bike, she plugs into her network after locking her suit to the bikes frame. Both vehicles pull out into the daylight and head towards the coffee shop. ::

:: Along the way, Blitz stops into 6 different convenience stores and, without removing her helmet, she purchases two disposable phones from each before heading to the Cafe to pick their last team mate up. ::

:: Blitz waits a block and a half away as she calls Ayuda from the newly purchased phone, just after hooking the last phone up to her bike battery to fry it's electronics. ::

"You will see the van, logo is Two Trolls Move You. Get in."

"One to Three. Don't get out unless necessary."

parvati tunes in to what was said.. and looks around for a good place to meditate and watch doors and windows. Her gun in hand just incase someone wants to be stupid enough and walk in here...

Ayuda clicks the phone closed, motioning the driver, in the midst of climbing back in the front of the cab, towards the larger case that was being wheeled out.

"Don't worry, I tip well.", as the driver rolls his eyes and hefts it into the back of the car.

Arriving out front of the small cybercafe, he tipped the driver generously, and had him stack the case and his luggage in a pile near an outside table.

An espresso later, and the world was even feeling civilized again.

Ringo's gaze followed Blitz for a moment as she walked off, closing their informal interview. Well, at least she actually talked to me this time. Who knows, maybe next on the list is an in on the comm frequencies, or wonder of wonders, my very own number!

With a sardonic grin on his face, he rubbed his hands together and prepared to dive into the Matrix once again...

Except there was one problem. He couldn't get into the Matrix from where he was at. For that matter, there didn't seem to be much in the way of power either. Both of which were not putting him in a good mood.

Drek! I need to make some arrangments to get us the utilities we're going to want here. I probably should grab some back up too. Damn, the bosslady is gone. I should probably wait until she gets back. In the meantime, may as well start coming up with a list...

:: As the vehicles enter the area, she rides by on her bike without pausing, however her attention is fully on the coffee shop and surrounding area. She looks for any sign of something out of the ordinary. ::

Nothing about the slim man sitting at a table outside the cybercafe appears unusual or suspicious. Indeed, nothing about the small shopfront and the half dozen customers visible through the brightly painted windows seems out of the ordinary.

:: A few minutes pass, allowing Ayuda to finish his latte and gather his items when the van pulls up in front of the coffee shop and the door disengages it's locking mechanism. However, Blitz waits until Ayuda is at the door before it swings open enough to allow him and his luggage inside, then it speeds off back into the city. ::

"One to Three, give Ayuda the comm frequencies. We're taking the long way home."

:: The vehicles pass in and out of side streets a thoroughfares like flighty butterflies, passing one another only at cross streets, yet never more than a mile apart. Blitz uses the time to familarize herself with the terrain and the style of traffic. Cross-checking her nav-dat maps against the actual streets themselves. The drive home turns out to be approximately 2 hours before first the large van (now displaying the same standard matte black exterior as before) enters the warehouse, followed by Blitz only minutes later. ::

Waiting for Blitz when she returns, Ringo greets her with a sardonic grin on his face.

"There's been a slight problem. I can't jack into the Matrix from here. If the building is prewired for Matrix access, then I can just hack into the Michigan Power and Light network and get us hooked up. If it isn't though, I'm going to have to get creative when you need me to access the Matrix. Either way though, I'd have to leave here for an initial setup."

Tossing her a bit of an annoyed look, he adds, "That would require transportation, permission, and maybe some assistance. Seeing as how I have neither our current comm frequencies nor even a number as part of the team, that was not exactly possible in your absence. You mind cluing me in as to what comm frequencies we're all on, and maybe, just maybe, giving me my very own number so I can actually work as a part of this team instead of an individual?"

He shrugs, and nods his head deferentially. "Of course, you're the boss, so if you don't want to play it that way, I guess that's your call. But I will tell you that things will flow a lot smoother and I'll be able to be a lot more helpful if you give me the tools I'm gonna need to work with you all."

:: Blitz gives a slightly puzzled look at him when he talks about the comm frequencies. ::

"The comms given are the team channels. Alpha channel is primary and everyone should be on Alpha. If our network is compromised, or I feel it's time to switch up, you will be given an order to switch to Beta or Charlie. They aren't specific for people. You do have an encrypted radio, don't you?"

Parvati Looks up from meditation... puzzeled... as she thinks to her self with a smirk...

Did he not hear her said the coms out loud?, Yeah, this guy is going under my wing.... I guess I really need to make this one a pet....

"Ringo, love, here are the coms..." looking at him seductively...

showing him Alpha 234.1, Beta 987.2 and Charlie 324.4.

"We're on Alpha, my love"

Oh, how I love having men.... as she things to herself thinking back to her beloved Sir... Oh how I miss that man in my life at this moment... I will be glad when this job is over so I can have another session with him...

Ringo grits his teeth and replies slowly, delibarately, and places emphasis on each word, stressing his aggravation, "Yes. I do have an encrypted radio."

Turning to Parvati. he says coldly, "Don't patronize me. No, I did not get the comm channels, and yes, had I been given the comm channels, I can figure out just fine that we'd be on Alpha until further notice."

Looking back at Blitz, he continues, "I did not receive the comm channels from you. I have not received any instructions, assistance, or anything that allows me to function as a part of your team. I was referring to an identifying number such as One, Two, Three, whatever, when I said I had no number from you, NOT to a specific comm channel."

Throwing up his hands in frustration, he unconsciously raises his voice, unable to suppress the irritation any longer. "Look, you want professionalism? Fine. Let me tell you how I am seeing this professionalism. You want to leave me in the dark as far as who's who and what's what, that's fine. You're the boss, and that's your biz. But you want to not tell me how to get in touch with you, not give me a way to function as a team member by identifying myself, and then patronize me for it? That is NOT professional."

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, and so as not draw unnecessary attention from the rest of the team, he goes on, "What was I supposed to do? Ask someone else to dial you up and say, oh hey Blitz, this is that guy you just hired to hack for you illegally, remember me?"

He shakes his head. "I'm trying to be a pro here and be cool. But here's how I see it. Either you let me into the team and work with me here, and I learn to function as a well-oiled cog in the machine, or you keep leaving me in the dark, and I continue to function exactly like what I am right now: an outsider."

In a more concilatory tone of voice, he continues, "Look, I meant what I said earlier. I want to be a part of this team and to work like it. I'm just frustrated because I feel it's not happening, and I don't see what else I can do."

Addressing both Blitz and Parvati, he apologizes, "I'm sorry I snapped at you both. That was not necessary. Like I said, I'm frustrated that it seems I'm being left in the dark, and then being patronized because I don't know what's going on."

He sighs. "How about we just start over? The interview is over, and I'm assuming that unless this issue is enough to terminate our working relationship, we're still teammates. So how about we just forget about everything that happened prior, you fill me in on the who's who and what's what, and we'll get cracking on this. Does that sound good to you two?"

:: Blitz's look just becomes more puzzled as she listens to Ringo rant. Through the entire speech, Blitz seems to look increasingly surprised by the vehemence of the newest members objections. ::

:: Once he's finished, she pauses long, trying to organize her thoughts internally. On one hand, she's mildly irritated that he didn't just ask for a call number when she was announcing the comm frequencies and that he's claiming she didn't give them to him personally. She assumed that by addressing the team after she said he was hired, that he would have taken note as a member of the team. ::

:: On the other hand, they REALLY needed a decker, so she wanted to make sure that whatever issue was making him upset was resolved enough so they could continue with the plan at hand. There was no way they would be able to find another decker in time, and their contacts in the Detroit area were far to thin (being a whopping ONE) that he was critical to their plan. ::

"Let me begin by saying that after I accepted you as a member of the team, I announced the new frequencies. I am not quite sure why you think I was excluding you in that announcement. I'm sorry I haven't assigned you a call number yet, it was simply overlooked. You could have just asked for one when I was giving out comms."

"As far as the plan goes, I told you as much as we know right now. We're here to hit Pioneer Cybernetics and/or Central Industrial for whatever is most valuable. We're simply trying to gain working capitol for future endevors. We don't know anything about what they have or what we're going to try and liberate, which is why we need your research. I already told you all of this which is why Im confused as to why you feel you are being left in the dark."