Some connections have put you in touch with a Mr. George Hampton. Seems the local business owner has misplaced something important, and he’d like some help finding it.

The interior of Hampton Holistic Healthcare looks like a shaman’s medicine lodge exploded all over the place, which is probably not that far
from the truth. Hampton, however, doesn’t fit the rest of the shamanic image; the clean-shaven, middle-aged elf is wearing a really nice suit, but it looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He cuts right to the heart of the matter.“The mob’s got my daughter, Moxie,” he says. “I pay them a protection fee to keep the gangs away from my property, but business has been slow lately, and I couldn’t pay this month’s fee. The Fratellis are holding her hostage until I can pay them. And if I don’t pay them—well, let’s just say I bought Moxie a really nice ring for her sweet sixteen, and the Fratellis have more than one use for a cigar cutter. I can’t offer much—seeing as how I can’t even ransom my own daughter—but can give you five hundred each, plus a free toxin flush or a colonic.”

Wootz is standing next to a garishly colored miniature totem pole, idly picking at his coat's collar, apparantly lost in thought.

Neekni sahrawi, why'd it have to be Mafiosos? Those choobs have egos a mile high, and they hold pretty mean grudges.

He closes his eyes, folds his arms over his chest, and begins stroking his goatee in an offhand manner.

"Hmm..." he muses quietly.

"Hmmmmm..." he adds, mostly to himself.

Bust or buy? ...bust... or buy? We just go in, even if we're unseen they can figure out what happened, take more than a finger next time. We deal, they'll see it as a sign of respect and the cost shouldn't be too high, a small favor or two at most. I don't like it, but it seems the better choice, assuming the others go along with it.

Eyes still closed, Wootz nods his head slightly and grunts, looking satisfied for a brief moment. Then his brow suddenly clouds, and he frowns.

...but I'd better not have to do another bat mitzvah, damnit!

~Umi

Margins sits on a bunch of pillows on the ground his back against the foot of a massage bed his eyes darting through the room never coming to rest or finding focus it seems. The AROs before him show the websites eyballs to bookings transference statistics for Hamptons Holistic Healthcare, a Birth Certificate for Moxie Hampton 21 December 2058 of the Hollywood Hills Clinic and a matrix search in progress on the Seattle Public Grid for Knight Errants organised Crime Recognition Status on the Fratelli family.

Not enough data for a relevant risk/reward assessment yet.
“Fünfhundert?“
Margins Eyes Focus for a second trying to descern the origin point of a Fibonacchi Sequence Pattern he thought he had detected on the carpet.
“Ahh, Fivehundreth ist okay for me“ Timeframe expectations for this is arround 24 hours give or take or any relevant trails or bodys are cold, the pay is less then one sixth standard rate, which means I have to look for some side business to make this work. Need to find out the Fratellis net worth? Hood their Nuyen back to any extortion victims which there is a high probability for to exist and take a 20% finders fee, split for the team by....
Margins hand swipes at something before him as if he was trying to get rid of some pesky insect
"I am in if nobody has any objections."
having said that he sinks back loosing himself in the Augmented Reality feeds surrounding him again.

Swift mused to herself whilst the others pondered the deal being offered. She was dressed in street casual, short trousers and a cut off shirt over a sports bra that exposed the twining flame-like tattoos on her stomach and ribs and did little to conceal the massive pistol holstered in the small of her back.

“We can help you I’m sure but you need to understand the consequences. We can go and snatch your daughter back but your days doing business here, possibly even in Seattle, are done. They have long memories and won’t forgive a slight like that. If you tell us how much you owe them, plus some interest for their trouble, then we can perhaps assess a way of doing a deal with them. If we can make them see there’s no profit in hurting Moxie, without getting their backs up, then we should be able to just walk her out.

Personally I’d prefer to snatch her and never be seen but then you need to disappear too…are you willing to do that?”

Wootz half opens his eyes and murmurs aloud.

"It's not hard to disappear, really. You just have to be willing to leave behind most everything which ties you to the physical world. People, places, possessions..."

He casts a sidelong glance at Mr. Hampton's expensive and fashionable attire and smiles. "It's actually quite refreshing, after you get over the shock of making yourself into next to nothing. Such adversity often fosters personal growth, and can ultimately lead to a greater sense of inner peace."

It's not at all clear from his tone of voice whether Wootz is making a facetious gibe, or being entirely serious.

~Umi

A fierce look burns in Hampton's eyes as he responds to Swift. "I care nothing about the consequences. That will be my problem. Not yours. I just want my daughter back from those bastards!"

He takes a moment to breath in repeatedly, calming himself. Then continues. "At most, I'd ask you to make it look like somebody else is responsible if you end up exchanging more than just words with them. I’ll gladly throw in an extra five hundred if it’ll mean getting the Fratellis off my family’s back for awhile.”

“Right now, I think your best lead for finding out where they’ve stashed my daughter,” Hampton says, “is to follow Vic Fratelli. He’s a few crayons short of a full box, so you might be able to pump him for some info without him being the wiser."

Gentry leaned back, expression neutral. She was a professional, even if she was surrounded by low quality material.

She glanced at Swift. The Johnsons's problem is the Johnson's problem. As long as they get paid, I don't give a devilrat's behind about him.


"I'm in."

Struts leans casually against the wall as the Johnson makes his pitch taking in not just his words but his attitude and reactions to the others questions as well.
The thoughts and calculations going on in his head are not easy to read on his face.Basically easy enough, Mob could be a long term pain. Still, having a high class medic owe us one....yeah, worth it.

Speaking up he nods his agreement to the others, "I don't see a major problem with getting the job done. Assuming it is what has been described, we can make it happen. Other than not being real bright, what can you tell us about this Vic Fratelli? Or any of the rest that you have dealt with that we could run into?"

"What can I say about Vic Fratelli....he's a mother fucking coward who preys on the weak. I got out from under his thumb a while back and thought good riddance. But you all know how hard life can be. My business has hit some seriously rough times lately. Rough enough that I deluded myself into getting into business with this snake....Oh Great Ghost Walker do I wish I had never done that. Losing my business would be far better than this!"

He starts to go on, but shakes his head and looks back at the team assembled before him. "I'm guessing that's not really what you are wanting to know about him. Right?" Without waiting for a response, he continues. "I'm not sure that I can tell you much about him or his family. They are pretty small fry. I avoid dealing with the Mob in general, but I've heard that the Mafia at large in Seattle see him and his family as a bit of a joke, just barely tolerating him for the money he brings in. I mean the fragger dresses like he's straight out of a 20th century trid Gangster, pinstriped suit and one of them fancy hats and all, But he's always eating at a damn McHugh's. That's the kind of "classy" he is. Honestly, that McHugh's a few blocks over is likely where you'll find the smug bastard."

"Sounds like something of a low man on the tote..."

Wootz falters, glancing guiltily at the colorful sculpture beside him and cringing. "...tote board?" he offers weakly. As no immediately apparent magical retribution erupts from the wooden figurine, the ronin visibly relaxes, rolling his shoulders and slipping into a stupid grin.

"Regardless, sounds like no one's gonna miss this guy, which means we've got plenty of options." He looks around at his team eagerly. "Shall we get to work?

~Umi

Struts gives a quick nod as he moves away from the wall and starts pacing as best he can given the limits of the room and its occupants. The look on his face shows he is already thinking about what is coming, almost as if he is waking up and coming to life.

OK, if we have the location of the McHughes, first thing is to get eyes on it. Make sure this Vic is there. Then i can keep eyes on him if he leaves before we get there. No problem with that, yeah, I can do that with no problem. Better scan the mapsofts of the area, get the hot and now on who and where to watch for, KE, gangs, standard stuff there. I can get started as soon as we are good here."

He looks up almost as if he suddenly remembered the others where there with him'

"We good here? We doing this one, right?"

Swift lifted the mirrored visor away revealing her striking silvery blue eyes and flashed Mr J a smile. For anyone paying attention it showed her sharp lower canines, almost like the tusks of an ork but not quite, smaller and more feral, perhaps with a hint of the imp about them

“Looks like you’ve got yourselves a team!”

The relief on the Johnson's face is obvious and quite genuine. "Thank you. You're my only hope for getting her back safely....And yes. I seriously doubt that anybody is going to be all that interest in looking for Vic if he goes missing."

You can smell the grease and other food-service byproducts long before you step foot inside. To your knowledge, McHugh’s has never served real, bona-fide meat in its entire history.

McHugh’s takes the “greasy spoon diner” concept, applies it to fast food, and takes it two steps further. If you get anything to-go here, you’ll be able to see right through the paper bag, and odds are the burger and fries you ordered will fall out through the bottom of the bag before you can get back to your doss.

The Hugh Sliders are so named because they treat your digestive tract like a playground slide. The twisty kind. Ordering anything on the menu inevitably ends up in sadness and regret. Whoever makes all this stuff should probably be charged with violating a dozen different environmental laws and health hazards.

But, man, does it smell delicious. And it’s super cheap. That’s an offer you can’t refuse.

The outside of this particular building looks pretty new, which means it’s probably been torn down and rebuilt within the last five years or so to conform to McHugh’s corporate policy of cleanliness. A large macroplast sign next to the front door proudly declares, “Bring your hunger, but leave your weapons at home! Thank you! —Lou McHugh.” On the plaque sits the smiling clown face of the McHugh’s mascot, which will probably be in your nightmares tonight.

As the group walks the few blocks to their destination, Wootz waxes contemplative, if not exactly eloquent.

"You know, I've never actually eatten at a McHugh's. I've had everything from Mondo Mundo's extra-fun sized tacoburgers, to those bizarrely compelling "cheesey weasel" sandwiches at Arguile's, to freezedried spice nuggets at A Fistful of Garlic™, but for some reason the Golden Uprights never really appealed to me and mine."

He stretches his arms behind his head as he strolls, eliciting a series of pops and cracks audible over the muffled yet jaunty music spilling out from his earbuds.

"Plus, their mascot troubles me. It raises questions of a dubious nature on what are essentially fundamental levels. I honestly have an easier time wrapping my brain around the Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den, and I was always crap at lexical terracing."

Wootz seems either unaware or unconcerned about the oddity of his ramblings, and after a slight pause abandons them entirely to start humming and moonwalking in time to the beat. Fortunately, the team doesn't have much farther to go.

~Umi

Struts runs a quick system check on one of his Fly-Spy drones before releasing it into the air above the McHughes. Watching through its sensors he makes a quick sweep of the building and then tels the dog brain to keep it in the air above the building. Withe a shudder and a shake he slides back into his own body and looks over at the others.

"OK, I have eyes on the building and parking lot just in case. So what is the plan? We going in as a group or sending a smart guy in first. I can sneak one of my creepy crawly bots in, but that might take a couple of minutes. Anyway preferences on approach? "

As the scouting members of the team step inside they come to realize that th McHugh’s standards have certainly gone downthe tubes in recent years. You can tell just from walking in that this is a franchise-run location rather than a corporate-owned establishment.

The redesigned branding that you noticed from the outside, part of a big advertising push in the last 5 years, are already showing their age with signs of vandalism and more than a little neglect. Dirt is caked into the tile grout, and the acroplast tabletops and chairs have been beaten to hell and back.

Then there's the building’s security staff... it's suffered a major downgrade. Stores the McHugh’s Corporation runs usually have about five guards on tap at any given time, but whoever owns this particular dump only has the budget for one really bored guard standing out in the open, which is either incredibly arrogant or extremely foolish. Maybe there's another corporately mandated guard on duty in the bathroom? You're not sure.

Swift had taken a few moments at the meet to change into the body glove she’d had folded neatly in her rucksack. She’d pointedly ignored the stares of some of the less discrete. Now ready for a true night on the town she swung the long coat over her weapons and, trusting to Margin’s technical wizardry, stepped into the pit of hell, wrinkling her nose at the grease laden air…

With most of the team heading inside, Wootz meanders around to the back alley behind the grease shop. Rounding the corner, he spots a pair of unfortunates who turn from their squat to peer cautiously at the interloper.

"Hoi, chummers. Hate to be a bearer of bad news, but there's a chance things might get noisy around here in a bit, if you know what I mean. Might want to clear out for a little while, find somewhere a little more peaceful to rest your bones in case the Bronze roll in. Hopefully it won't come to that, but either way, you'd be doing a bount a favor, so I'd like to do one for you."

He digs in his coat, pulls out a few beat up credsticks, and takes a moment to shift some funds between them before offering one each to the wary men.

"There's a diner a couple blocks down the street, red panda on the sign, they got decent soup and sandwiches. Pretty good muffins too, and the lady who runs the place doesn't turn away anyone who can pay and ain't there to cause trouble. This'll get you both a couple nice meals each. Green?"

The older of the pair gazes at Wootz a moment longer, still uncertain, but his less weathered counterpart eagerly reaches out for his chit, murmuring "Sure, sure, super green". After watching his companion sidle off to lunch, the senior street veteran shrugs his shoulders and asks in a low rumble, "They got blueberry? Ain't had a warm muffin in ages."

~Umi

With the alley now empty and unwatched, Wootz adjusts his gloves and settles into a comfortable spot directly opposite the restaurant's rear door. He shuts down his public commlink - his Matrix Icon of a serene golden Buddha statue winking quietly out of virtual existence - and swiftly rearranges the slim black cables trailing from his glasses and earbuds. With a quiet chirp, his workhorse commlink comes online, broadcasting only a whisper of traffic to the Matrix at large - anyone not looking for it will simply miss its silent presence.

With a quick, smooth movement Wootz draws a length of cable from the datajack in the back of his neck and slots himself in. An involuntary twitch plays across his left eye, but he shakes it off with a smirk. At the speed of thought, he fires off a text to his allies.

<<Gimme some numbers - null values, problems, and potentials. I'll probably be sending my bug report soon, and I'd like to go over yours if you have one to submit.>>

Wootz deftly opens the sword bag slung over his shoulder, leaving the blade ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. Satisfied that he's done almost all he can to prepare for what's to come, he leans against the alley's far wall and grunts to himself.

I really hope this doesn't go sideways. I don't want to have to bruce anyone today.

~Umi

Swift briefly surveyed the open cesspit of a diner and quietly cursed to herself. Their target was easy enough to spot but he’d isolated himself away from any thoroughfare so there was no chance to accidently brush past him and deposit the bug…it seemed like it would be a waiting game and she really didn’t want to wait in here any longer than she had to…she could already feel the grease laden air permeating her clothes.

Reluctantly she approached the counter and ordered a soykaf and some cake thing she had no intention of touching. Finding a table against the wall near Vic she settled in to watch, calling up a series of AR images, that she did her best to ignore, just to be seen to be doing something. The Patterns in the matrix feed were a little overwhelming and she dialled it down to a single news feed whilst she contacted the team

@All [Swift] <<Our target is here, sitting alone, few other lost souls here too. I’ve ordered a drink and I’ll see if he makes a move so I can tag him with the bug. I’ll send you a vid cap of the diner [file attached]>>

Gentry soon joined swift, her shoulders loose and her stance haggard. No reason to look out of place too much. Unfocusing her eyes, she shifted her perceptions to the astral plane. Everyone has some black in this vileness, no surprised there. He looks around, trying to avoid drawing suspicion.

@All [Gentry] <<Mark is chromed, probably dermal under his skin. Guard's left paw is chromed, also something glued to his bones. Someone's also in the manager's office.>>

Shifting her perceptions back, she moved to the counter, plastering her face with an insincere smile. "Tell me, what do you have that's suits a healthy vegan lifestyle?" Let's see what kind of reactions that will draw.

The lone worker seems put out by a patron actually bothering to talk to him. "Ya gots eyes ain't ya? Menu's like everywhere else." He points with a hot tray of food towards the closest of the remote kiosks in the restaurant.

Turning to the room at large he calls out, "Order 54....Order 54" with a staticy version of his voice coming across speakers embedded in the ceiling. He carelessly puts the tray down on the pickup counter, before turning back to the fryer.

As Gentry moves over to look at the menu on the self-order kiosk, the business man stands up and heads to the pickup counter.

McHuch's Menu:
The Basic—soyburger with Pick’ls™ 2¥
The Hugh™—soyburger with processed cheeseflavored food and Pick’ls™ 3¥
The Beast™—triple soyburger with processed cheese-flavored food and fried egg substitute 5¥
The Beast Deluxe™—The Beast™, now with three strips of bacon substitute! 7¥
The Jolly Meal—soyburger, HughFries, and a surprise toy! 5¥
Hugh Sliders (3)—bite-sized soyburgers with processed cheese-flavored food 3¥
The Kriller™—shaped krill patty, grilled to perfection. Now with Pick’ls™! 3¥
Kriller Deluxe™—shaped krill patty, grilled to perfection, with processed cheese-flavored food 5¥
The Egg’r™—fried egg substitute and processed cheese-flavored food 3¥
HughFries—hand-cut cassava, deep-fried using our secret method! In three handy sizes! 2¥/4¥/6¥
The Green Plate—vegetarian salad with Pick’ls™ 4¥
The Squealer™—pork-flavored soy patty, infused with BBQ flavor! 4¥
Soykaf (regular and “de-kaf”) 1¥
Soyshake (5 flavors) 2¥
Soysundae (15 flavors) 2¥

Gentry can't help but think the sorry state of this McHugh's could have something to do with the sorry state of their customer service, but whatever. He makes a quick order on the kiosk and moves to join Swift at the table.

Surreptitiously, the two of them keep an eye on their target...which gets old real quick as all he's doing is chowing down on the disgusting food. The two runners end up coming up with a plan to get a bug on Vic and they try heading to the bathroom as innocuously as possible. The nearby student, got distracted momentarily by the two women walking past, but he blushed a little and turned back to his virtual books when the runners looked around one last time and caught his ogling.

Inside the women's restroom, Gentry quietly summons threads of mana to wrap Swift in a physical weave of light bending magic rendering her completely invisible. It came with a bit of a cost as the magical forces tried to fight back with Gentry, but the deed was done regardless of the after affects.... And the pain in her gut seemed all too appropriate considering the smells of this place.

Opening the door and holding it a bit longer (but not too long as to be obvious), Gentry returned to the table to await her order while Swift stealthily moved close to the mobster and tagged him with a bug.

Tag placed, Swift paced back towards the restrooms with the sinuous coiled grace of her mentor, deftly avoiding anything that might betray her presence. Turning back to the room to ensure nobody was looking in her direction she slipped back inside. Pulling her coat out from where it had been stuffed in a corner she shrugged herself into it. A quick text to Gentry and the team followed

@All [Swift] <<Tag’s in place. G, you can drop the spell now I’m clear>>

Once she could see herself in the grubby polycarbonate mirror in the restroom she returned to the restaurant to wait for Vic to make a move.

Gentry stepped out along with her invisible comrade, scanning the surrounding, holding one hand to her stomach.

Taking a seat near a bar, she ordered something that was jokingly called "water".

Listening in to the bug, she tried her best to hide her disgust.

@All [Gentry] <<Oh slag it, I can hear the grease. What do they make that stuff of?>>

@Swift [Gentry] << It's Gentry, not G. Spell is dropped. >>

The minutes pass like hours in this place with that constant munching in the runners' ears. It was truly disgusting and just when relief was in sight, Vic had finally polished off the last of his Beast, he yells out "Oy...Bring me another" across the room to the guy working the counter.

The worker who was just announcing Gentry's veggie order, stop mid word, "Orde....Err, coming right up!"

In record time, a fresh Beast was fried up with a super helping of Fried Pick'l's. Not only that back that, but the guy actually brought the burger out to Vic. Ignoring some orders at the take-out window.

"Here you go...You, uh, need anything else from me?" the geeky guy asked awkwardly.

"Yeah. Get me another drink while you're at it."

"Sure thi..." The worker got distracted by the front doors banging open with two new people coming in. They glanced around the store briefly hardly paying any attention to the lazy guard. Then they headed straight for the mob boss as the worker hurried away to get the drink.

Once there, the two men spoke to Vic in hushed tones to avoid being overheard by the patrons (though they came in loud and clear on the bug). "Boss, words out that fragger Hampton got some shades trying to get his girly back."

"That little shit did what? I knew it. He's totally been holding out on me with some money stashed away if he can get runners."

"Sounds right, Boss. You want me to send Jimmy the Nose to take care of him for yous?"

"Nah. Let his team show up and try something.. You two go get what you can from the locals near his shop. See if you can get descriptions of this 'team' the punk's hired. And if they don't want to tell ya, why don't you give them a sneak preview of what's going to be coming down on good ole Hamilton. If you get my meaning."

"Yeah, Boss," the goon chuckles. "We's got yer meaning. You want Freddie to stay as some back up."

"No. He'll be with you like I said. Give a call to your cousin Vinny. Have 'em and a couple of his swing by. I can't imagine this team is going to hit me in the middle of the day here."

With little other said between them, the two goons head on out of the store brushing past the geeky worker.

As the worker put down the drink, Vic half to himself asked "Can you believe that drek? The old man actually thinks can make a play against me."

"Uh, but that's just stupid. Everybody knows not to cross you Mr. Fratelli."

"Yeah, they do. Or they should, shouldn't they." He slurps down some of his drink while he thinks. "Now get out of here. I've got some things to think about."

Swift restrained a mutter about mages and their lack of secure protocols, she’d grown up around runners and their paranoia where even street handles weren’t used over open communication, others clearly hadn’t.

Taking care to shield any view of her wrist from the restaurant Swift began to type out a quick text on the virtual keyboard, briefly regretting the speed that a true AR interface would give her but wasn’t practical given how her mind dealt with the matrix,

<<@Team[Swift]: Someone’s been talking. We need to decide if we hit him now or nab his flunkies before they get any intel on us. I don’t want to end up on a mob hitlist and someone will have grabbed a vid of our faces as we saw Mr J. ‘S’>>

This one was clearly far down the food chain, except in his own estimation, but he’d still got connections, being on the wrong end of the mob wasn’t an appealing prospect…

<<@Team[Swift]: If we’re quick we can take V and let the flunkies come to us so that we can relieve them of anything incriminating. This is hardly the best location for a strike but events are going to catch us up if we aren’t careful…and I dislike his attitude! ‘S’>>

Thinking quickly on her feet, Gentry tries to subtly impose a bit of magical influence on the disgusting man munching away on what passes for food at McHugh's. As she reached out for the magical energies with her mind, she formed them into a mental command for to leave the restaurant without any fuss. Then she pushed into the mind of her target, Vic Fratelli.

She gasped as she feels Vic's mind fully resisting the effects of the spell. She could tell it hadn't been her strongest casting of the spell, but still it was surprising how much resistance than man's mind gave her.

There wasn't much time for her to contemplate that though, as Vic's eyes immediately focused on the shaman that was focusing so much attention on him. He spit out the mouthful of the Beast he'd just taken as his eyes recognize Gentry's attention for what it was.

"You bitch. What do you think you're doing?" he demands as he stands up reaching for a pistol beneath his coat.

Immediately all attention in the restaurant is on Vic and the table he's looking at with such anger in his eyes.

Silently cursing mages, stupid thick skulled mob bosses and the general lack of cover in here Swift propelled herself to her feet and into a graceful dive that would take her out of the direct line of fire but hopefully draw that fire away from the gape mouthed Gentry...

"Come now, everybody knows not to cross you Mr. Fratelli" her mocking words cover the quiet sound of her arm slide slipping the taser into her hand,

Trying to avoid brining cross fire down on any of the other patrons of this shoddy establishment Swift looked for some sort of tactical advantage...time to play!

Swift dives behind an unoccupied table putting it between himself and Vic. With his taser at the ready he looks around at the patrons and workers trying to come up with an idea of what to do next. That's when movement from the guy that was just mopping up a spill by the auto-fryer catches her eye.

"Vic! That one has a gun," shouts the man as he brandishes the dripping mop in a charge towards Swift.

The reality of the situation very quickly comes clear as the lone security guard draws his Colt pistol and gets a bead on Swift's position. "What's going on boss? You ok?" Apparently the guard isn't as stupid as he first appeared. He's moved to get some cover from the pedestal ordering kiosk which also gave him a bit of a better view on Swift.

"That one just tried to cast a spell on me," Vic responds pointing his gun at Gentry. Shouting even louder, "Franco! Get your magic ass out here. We got some business to take care of."

The other patrons all seem shocked by the sudden presence of guns and impending violence.

With mooks coming out of the woodwork, Gentry takes a breath to calm her nerves and calculate what would get her out of the situation. She considers bringing forth a swarm of locusts to harass the Fratelli family, but reconsiders as she assesses the distances involved.

She smiles as her thoughts turn toward needing some backup. Sending her thoughts out to a particular metaplane, to a particular Beast that still owes her.

In an instant, the snarling form of a massive canine appears beside her within the astral space of the McHugh's. For a moment, the spirit thrash about at the magical bindings that yanked it from it's home to serve this being of flesh. It knew full well that it could change nothing, yet it's pride would not let it do so quietly.

<growl>What do you wish this time? The words form within Gentry's mind. And she responds just as directly with a command to attack the restaurant's security detail.

With yet another snarl, the spirit of beasts agrees, and begins to manifest within the physical plane.

Swift looked at the charging lackey with disgust…there were far more active combatants than she would like having just dispatched the rest of the team off to chase down the other group of mobsters. She slipped her coat off and whirled it towards him but the raking sweep of the mop handle slipped under her guard and as she felt the distinct crack of ribs as the bruising force knocked her off her feet. As she hit the deck she dimly triggered her chameleon coating and her blurred form struggled away from the oblivious cook. Dragon snarled in her mind…the time for playing was over…

Trying not to wince too much Swift slipped a stim patch from her pack and, peeling back her chameleon coated sleeve, pressed it to her wrist. Almost immediately the rush of the powerful drugs swept away the pain leaving just the angry snarl in her mind. The mop boy was charging Gentry and although he might not be the primary threat with another mage on the loose he was the one who had put her to the floor. Slipping the more lethal matte black silenced pistol from its concealed holster Swift prepared to take a shot…