<<From The Office of Dr. Johnson Oct 1st 2075 4:36 PM>>

<<Dear Valued customer, this is an email reminder to confirm your dental cleaning at 9:00 AM tomorrow at our office at 1732 Bel-Red road in Bellevue. Please remember to brush and floss that morning and dress to impress. The Dr. Can be very discriminating about who he takes for customers. Looking forward to seeing you and your bright smile tomorrow.

David "Mr. B" Briton
Certified Cleaner>>

The early afternoon sun was already setting. A slightly chill wind told you as sure as the weather app on your com that summer was over and you would soon need a bit heavier of a jacket. You look over the email again making sure you understand the message. He wasn't exactly subtle and you had been warned that this Johnson had a reputation for being eccentric. But you are pretty sure this is the email you had been looking for. The one that promised you new work.

Zap smiles slightly as she puts her link into her pocket. Maybe I will be able to go to the concert after all. She walks up to the counter of her local sub shop and places her order. As soon as she gets her food, she sits at one of the too small plastic tables and pulls up her commlink's browser. Might as well know where I'm going tomorrow.

Zap will do a public records search for the following:
What type of building is located at this address? Is it a single or multi-story building. Is it multi-tenant? Is there a dental office located in the building?
If there is a dental office, is it affiliated with a corporation or independant.
Who is David "Mr. B" Briton? I'll include the major social nets in this search as well, anything that won't require me to log in at this point.

<<Switch's Apartment, October 2nd, 2075, 2:36 AM>>

Switch read the message for what must have been the fiftieth time. Have to get some sleep. Need to be sharp tomorrow. He looked over at the bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand. Need to get some sleep. Reluctantly, he reached over, pushed an empty Stuffer Shack Snack Box ™ out of the way, and grabbed the bottle. With shaking hands, he opened it, put two pills in his hand and looked at them. Need to get some sleep. Just two won't hurt. He swallowed them in an instant, and lay down. He closed his eyes and saw the same scene he did every night.

Flyboy with an exit wound in the back of his head the size of a grapefruit. Johnny slumped against the wall in a pool of his own blood. Ace splattered faced down on the pavement where he had been pushed from the roof. The searing pain in his arm from the assassin's bullet as he ran for his life through the streets of Puyallup, waiting for the next one to hit. Flyboy with an exit wound in the back of his head the size of a grapefruit... Over and over until the darkness took him.

<<Switch's Apartment, October 2nd, 2075, 7:00 AM>>
Switch woke up with a start, sweating and shaking, and immediately regretted it. His head was pounding like a kettledrum being played by a troll on crank, and his mouth felt packed with sand. Staggering to his feet, he lurched toward his alarm clock, took one step and hit the floor hard. The alarm clock kept ringing, getting louder in what Switch would describe as sadistic glee if he didn't know that it was an inanimate object. He started to get up, thought better of it, and simply closed his eyes. Mother, help me, he silently called, and he could feel the response coming through the astral to him. Mother soon appeared and manifested as she always did, a stately elderly woman, dressed as a homemaker of the early 20th century. The spirits move in mysterious ways.

Switch, I'm busy. What is it now, I've little time for your shenanigans.

Now nursing a headache worse than he had before, Switch groaned and held his head in his hands. Mother, thank you for coming. I have an important meeting in about 2 hours, and it seems moving would be dangerous right now. Somewhere in this apartment is my suit. Can you please find it and make sure it is presentable?

Mother folded her ghostly arms across her chest and was warming up for a lecture when she looked at Switch and saw how much he was hurting. Her gaze softened slightly. Okay, Switch. I'll take care of it. You just lie there

Switch looked up for a moment and silently mouthed Thank you. Then, out loud, he said, If you get me my commlink first, I'll love you forever. and then lowered his head to his arms. Mother threw the 'link to him, and it hit Switch in the head. Ow! You might have warned me first. He sets his commlink's alarm for 8:00 and again puts his head down. As he lapsed into unconsciousness, Mother whisked around the room, gathering the scattered pieces of his suit and laying them out on the bed (after taking a moment to blow the contents of the bed onto the floor). She added the shoes, Switch's fedora and his shades, and then with a gentle pat on the head in a bedside manner that inspired her moniker, she faded from the physical plane.

<<Switch's Apartment, October 2nd, 2075, 8:00 AM>>
The commlink's alarm is slightly quieter, yet no less maniacal than its larger, less portable cousin. Ugh. Let's try that again. Switch slowly stands, and the room has stopped spinning. He moves over to the shower, steps in, turns on the water and begins to scream as the ice cold jets hit him. Drek! This is why I need this money. Have to get something a little nicer. And cleaner. Blue and shaking with the cold, he steps out, towels off, and puts on his suit. Well, that's one way to wake up. He combs his hair back, ties it in a loose ponytail, sticks on his fedora, puts on his shades, and walks out the door. As he jogs down the stairs to the ground floor, he checks the time. Ok, its 8:20, cab ride should take about 30 minutes, should get me there in plenty of time. He uses his commlink to hail a cab, hops in, and says, 1732 Bel-Red road in Bellevue - and there's something extra in it for you if we get there by 8:45.

The cabbie obliges, and at 8:45 Switch steps out of the cab in front of the building, patting at his suit until he finds what he is looking for in his inside jacket pocket. He takes the toothpick out, inspects it, then shrugs and sticks it in his mouth anyway, shifting it from left to right in a well practiced motion. I always hated the dentist, let's hope this isn't another bad experience.

Deckard see's the notice on his commlink for new email and pulls up the email and reads it.
Deckard runs a background check on the Johnson real quick and heads off to his favorite local pub to hangout.

After spending some time at the pub nursing a few beers and thinking things over, deciding whether or not he would go to the appointment tomorrow... Deckard decides he will go as he has nothing else on his plate at the moment.

Walking out of the pub, Deckard quickly calls Rachel and ask her to meet him at a local coffin motel near by.

Spending the night with Rachel, Deckard wakes up the next day early after getting 5hrs sleep and kisses Rachel good bye before leaves out and heading home.

Arriving home Deckard takes a shower, shaving and brushing his teeth. Deckard puts on his favorite business suit giving him an professional appearance picking out his best leather shoes to wear.
Grabbing his trenchcoat and fedora Deckard heads out the door and get in his Ford Americar heading to the desired location, arriving 10min early to find a parking spot.

Getting out of his car Deckard quickly looks around while adjusting the collar of his trenchcoat and fixing his tie, after setting his fedora at just the right angle he heads inside for the meeting.

B saw the signal flashing in the lower right corner of his vision. Really? Really? I've internalized it enough that I'm calling myself this now? Biran shook his head with resignation. Could be worse, I guess. I might be calling myself Spliff... He shrugged and turned his attention from the game. It was getting boring anyway. Good games don't get payed on Tuesday afternoons. He opened the virtual drop box he had set up and read the message.

<<From The Office of Dr. Johnson Oct 1st 2075 4:36 PM>>

<<Dear Valued customer, this is an email reminder to confirm your dental cleaning at 9:00 AM tomorrow at our office at 1732 Bel-Red road in Bellevue. Please remember to brush and floss that morning and dress to impress. The Dr. Can be very discriminating about who he takes for customers. Looking forward to seeing you and your bright smile tomorrow.

David "Mr. B" Briton
Certified Cleaner>>

The Man had promised to set him with work soon, but he hadn't expected it that quickly. He'd though he'd have a week or two of vacation before he got started. Welcome to the shadows, chummer... He'd met his fair share of runners, even had lengthy discussions with a few, but he wasn't comfortable with the lingo. It always sounded silly coming out of his middle-class mouth. Better to stick to his natural manner of speaking, especially for a business meeting. He finished his beer, paid his tab, and drove home. Best give everything a once-over, just in case...


The next morning, he woke up early. He was still recovering from flying graveyards and hadn't got his internal clock reset yet. Plenty of time to do a complete pre-flight check on all the drones, instead of the quick assessment he'd done the night before. Probably unneeded, but it filled the time, and kept his mind and hands busy. Brian was good in a crisis. He'd calmly fly, direct drones, patch up bleeding people, whatever needed doing when Hell broke loose, but waiting was another animal entirely. Luckily, he hadn't done a full check on the drones since he's scrubbed them of DocWagon identifiers, so he could fill the time with something productive.

Afterward, he loaded up the van, showered, ate, brushed his teeth and flossed, just in case they were serious, and dressed for an interview. It wouldn't be a good idea to show up to the meeting loaded for bear, but an armored vest under his clothes and a box-cutter in his pocket seemed prudent. If you aren't ten minutes early, you're ten minutes late. He checked the map again to be sure he had enough time. It wasn't the same as flying an ambulance, bu he had a pretty good sense of where things were and the best way to get them, so he made it just about when he planned to. Pulling into the lot at 0848, he set the rotos and glove box Kanmushi on standby, one Fly-Spy to circle the building, keeping an eye on things when he went in.

Zap:



Each of you walk into the office of Dr. Johnson, not sure of what to expect. You see a conglomerate of various metahumans sitting in the room, absently looking at data pads, and their watches. The overpowering sterile smell of latex assaults you as you approach the window. The attractive female elf in purple scrubs looks at you out of the coorner of her eye as she talks into a head set and inputs data into the officer terminal. She pauses and smiles before handing you a data pad, "Please fill out the form and bring it back to me." She immediately goes back to the terminal. Before setting down you notice the entire data pad is full already filled out. You begin to protest and without even looking in a much more forceful tone she says Please Fill out the form and Bring it back to me. Some one will be with you shortly."

You take a seat and study the identity on the pad. Generic, common names. After a few minutes you hand it back to the receptionist. And you sit. And wait. And wait. The people before you are called in by either an ork or a human in teal colored scrubs. You count the minutes as they pass by in the awkward silence of a waiting room. After nearly an hour an the ork calls the fake name from your datapad. You start and follow him into the back of the clinic, walking past shut doors and hearing the sound of dental drills. He ask you to have a seat in the chair and reclines you back asking that you open your mouth. As he probes around your teeth for a minute or two you notice the name tag on his shirt, "Pliers." Making no small talk the grim ork stands up removing his blue latex gloves and tells you to wait for the Dr. as he shuts the door behind him.

You begin to wonder if this was all a mistake, perhaps not for the first time when a part of the wall slides back and a handsome black man in a white lab coat walks in picking up a mask attached to a gas cylinder with his chromed hand. He breaths in heavy and ask, "Would you like a hit of Nitrous Oxide? Laughing gas you see. Its a very simple molecule and works reliably more often than not. I find it much more reliable than Novocain. Its a bit more complicated of a molecule than I like to admit to my body. Oh, your not here for that, please this way. Lets get to business." He ushers you through the sliding trap door and into a small room with a few chairs and a white noise generator sitting directly on the floor. You recognize some of the others from the waiting room now sitting in folding metale chairs. "Forgive the wait Gentlemen, and woman," He flashes Zap an immaculate smile and a wink, "I am Mr. B, or Mr. Johnson if you prefer. And I have gathered you here to offer you all employment. My associate tells me that you all have fantastic teeth. Especially you Killer B."

Mr. B sits down and looks at the single light in the ceiling for a moment. "If you would be so kind to check the folders taped under your seats, you will find a a picture of the mark. His name is Ramirez Ortega. Also known as Icer. Now a few years ago Icer here moved in on a cat house down in Redmond. Hostile take over so to speak. He outed the mama-san, and brought in his street thugs for some extra protection. His business investment has gone down hill from there. Not only has he brutalized his girls in retaliation, this pimp has also let customers do what ever they want if they offer enough money. I'll spare you the details but their are some pretty sick pups out there. He even has the connections in KE to get any heat he gets blow on over. I'm not sure what else this guy has going on. The Cat house continues to go down hill, but he and his goons keep getting better equipped and better augments. So your job, is to nab this guy. Get any info you can about who and what he's dealing on the side, and bring him alive to dock 12 at Smith's Cove at 3 AM October 9th. That gives you a week to work gents. Oh, and I'm sure that this goes without saying, but keep off the prostitutes. We can't have collateral damage in this job. We are looking at 4k a head for this job."

You find in the folder marked "The importance of flossing and you" a few photos of a Hispanic man in his early 30s. 5 o'clock shadow, small build. Usually with some clean cut looking body guards. You get an address for "The Blue Coy" and a rough floor plan of the 2 story establishment.

I'm assume Deckards background check turned up the same info as Zap.

Deckard politely introduces himself to everyone in the room as he looks over the content of the folder.

Looking to each individual Deckard says So how do you want to go about handling the legwork on this?

Switch leans back in his chair, holding the folder loosely in his lap. He lets his eyes slowly unfocus as he shifts to Astral Perception to take a quick look around him, especially at the freak with the tooth fetish. The girl and the man that Johnson called "Killer B" seemed straightforward enough - not enough cyber or size to be combat freaks, if he had to guess he would say Rigger or Decker - but not sure which was which. The other one was a mystery - either an initiate who was masking his abilities, or a non-cyber, non-magical runner, which made him either really stupid or extremely competent. For my sake, let's hope its the latter.


Switch took the toothpick out of his mouth for a moment as he examined the picture of Ortega. 4k for a snatch and grab. Its a start, at the very least it pays my rent for the next month, plus a little extra.

Hey there, Mr. B. Do you have any more info on this guy besides a picture of his ugly mug? Does he live at the Coy or somewhere else? Know anything about him personally? I'm prepared to go have to find all that out of course, but I'm just doing my due diligence asking. Switch smiles, all the while racking his brain to see if he can remember seeing this guy before.

Zap scans the contents of the folder sending images to her commlink for processing later. Looking to Mr B, I agree. Do you have any more info? Is Ortega associated with organized crime?

Turning to the others, Do you think we can get anyone inside? We need to get info on how many men Ortega has and what kind of gear they may have access to. Zap pauses for a moment, And no, I'm not going in. I have no desire to put myself in that situation.

We need to find a weakness or opening we can exploit. Or create one. I'll head out today to start scanning their networks. Zap sets her commlink down on the table tapping the screen, If you want, send me your commcodes we can stay in touch.

I like this one - professional and direct. Let's hope the others are as on point as she is.

I can also scout the place astrally, see if they have any magical defenses in place. If not, that is an easy in. Switch types in his commcode on Zap's commlink, gives her a winning smile, and offers his hand. I'm Switch, nice to meet you.

Moving swiftly Deckard shakes everyones hand firmly...Names Deckard, nice to meet ya'll!
Bowing and giving a smile that most likely shows way to much gums Deckard takes Zaps hand and kisses her knuckles as he introduces himself to her, telling her the pleasure is all his.

Deckard takes there commcodes entering them in his commlink giving them his commcode before sitting back down.

B looks over the packet with an appraising eye. "Depending on their security, I could slip a few surveillance drones in. Eyes wouldn't likely notice them, but if they've got scanners and know how to use them, it would only be a matter of time until someone found them. It would be easier to park a few outside the building and keep tabs on who comes and goes, but there's a limit to how much useful info you can get that way. Might get lucky, though." He glances around the group, appraising their reactions.

He gives a commcode to the group, since that seemed to be the fashion, and he had no good reason to deny them a way to get in touch. Especially since he was looking for a payday at the end of this.

I'll check with my contact within Lone Star, see if they have info on this Ortega. Might be easier for us to just grab this Ortega while they're not at the Cat house... I also know a working girl who might be useful, I'll contact her also.

new edit:

Good to see you've got an in with the Bronze Deckard, that will come in handy. Swift takes off his hat and brushes back an errant lock of hair from his eyes, then leans back in his chair.

Looking over to the Johnson, he says Mr. B, where is this place anyway? I mean, I know its in Redmond, but if this place is in Touristville the job goes down a lot differently than if its in Glow City, ya know?

After collecting commcodes, Zap slips her link back into her pocket. She turns to the Dwarf, I've may have a line in with KE, might be we can find out how Ortega is keeping them at bay. Turning to Mr. B. I think we can agree that a live capture is worth a premium. She pauses for a short moment, I think 5.5k should do the trick.

Looking over the packet it states that Icer has a permanent suite at the Blue Coy. He also owns a condo in the Kirkland area. The little bit of background that you have on him says street kid turned underworld entrepreneur. You do notice that he has a golden gloves boxing record. 5-2-0 4 KOs. The Coy is just outside what most would call the touristville area of the barrens. A good number of various vice businesses in the area.

Switch, you haven't heard of this Ortega before, but everything about him seems to scream Cartel. The white sun is the largest in the Seattle area however compared to the yaks and mafia they are still a street gang. Well in Seattle anyways. They are pretty connected elsewhere.

"Zap, you wound me." He frowns, "I was thinking 4 thousand for a few days work was generous. I mean I'm not asking you to walk into a renraku strong hold. He's just a pimp on the street. But I did ask for no collateral, so... an extra five hundred to keep the girls out of this, another five if you can keep his goons ignorant and untouched. So you have a potential 5k there. I'll also have an open door policy on any info you find beyond the outline of the mission."

I do not intend any disrespect Mr. B, only making sure we can make optimal use of our resources. Zap stands and gathers up the file and her bag. I accept your offer Mr. B.

Now, she scans the group, I am headed to Redmond to start my scans anyone coming along?

Ortega isn't very well connected is my guess, Hmm my limited knowledge of street gangs tells me this Ortega is from the 13th street boys, not a particularly prominent gang.
Deckard stands and nods at Zap, letting her know he would tag a long.

He definitely isn't connected with the mob or the yaks - sounds like if he is connected its with the cartels. I don't have much sway there, does anyone else?

He leans back in his chair - motioning to Zap as if to say 'wait a sec'.

Couple more things. One, holding up one finger for emphasis, Mr. B, do we have to bring him to Smith's Cove at 0300 or do we have to bring him there by 0300? You said at, and I'm just making sure there is no misunderstanding that if we nail him tomorrow we have to sit on him for a week.

Two, a second finger joins the first, Zap and Deckard, don't know about you, but I'd feel more comfortable if I changed out of my best suit before I went to Redmond, not only because I don't want to ruin it, but also because we are going to stick out like sore thumbs.

Three, a final, third digit raises, Shotgun. He gives Zap and Deckard a wink.

Switch:


"Oh defiantly at three," Mr. B goes strait face and looks at the group, "Well it appears that we are at an understanding, yes? If you have any questions or concerns be in touch. Now if you will please return to your respective rooms and await the rest of your cleaning. I can't have people leaving the dentist office with bad breath." He shakes your hands with his cold chrome one and guides you through the small passages in between the wall crawl spaces. You find your self leaving the office with the taste of fluoride in your mouth a quarter till noon.

<<Outside Mr. B's building, 1145>>

Switch makes a funny face as he tries to get the taste of fluoride out of his mouth. He takes his toothpick out, turns his head, and spits. With the press of a few buttons on his commlink, he calls the taxi service to have a car pick him up. Another thing I gotta use this money for is to get some 'trodes.

On the car ride home, he sends a message to the team through his commlink. Mr. B rushed us out of there awfully fast - and the wrinkle of having to sit on this guy, well, I don't like it to put it mildly. We have to assume that once we grab him he will have people looking for him, which means we need a tag eraser, and a brand new set of clothes for the guy - cause once we grab him we need to strip him and dump the clothes, and then search him for implanted RFID tags.

Arriving at his apartment, at around 12:15 Switch, as always, is momentarily disgusted at the conditions, and steps gingerly over something that might or might not have been moving a moment before. Stripping out of his clothes, he finds a pair of jeans, a shirt that passes the smell test, switches out his fedora for a faded Seattle Screamers hat, and sits down, cross-legged at the edge of the bed.

Face fixed in concentration, he softly calls, Azar, come to me. Switch can feel the warmth through the Astral as Azar approaches, in his usual guise of a 7 foot tall, powerfully built humanoid wreathed in flame.

Greetings, mighty one. Thank you for responding to my call.

One must do as duty demands. Speak, mortal, so that one may perform one's service and be back to where one belongs. The mighty spirit folds its arms across its chest.

I have no immediate tasks, yet I may before the day is out. If I have no need of you, I will provide you some reagents as recompense for your wasted time. Switch begins to sweat, not entirely from the heat.

Very well. One will be listening for your call. Azar moves slowly at first, and then faster until he becomes a blur, moving off through the Astral.

Typical of a fire spirit. Aloof and full of themselves, but the fraggers were dangerous, and it was definitely worth the extra time and effort for Switch to make sure he stayed on Azar's good side. Or as much as a being like that could have a good side.

I'm all set to go - where do you guys want to meet up? Might I suggest lunch? I know a great little sushi place...

Hey guys I have the Tag Eraser and Area Jammer if we need them, I'm head out and grab my gear and we can meet up later.

Deckard leaves the meet once finished having his teeth cleaned and heads home in his Ford Americar.

Once home he fixes himself a whey protein shake and drinks it as he hurries about changing into some comfortable clothes, khaki pants, blue button down with a burgundy paisley tie... putting on his leather sebago loafers foregoing any socks.
I grab my concealable holster checking my Browning before holstering it and grabbing my trench coat(Lined Coat) and a small pack with my gear in it before heading out to meet up with the group.

Sushi sounds fine with me, I just love the fried Seattle roll with wasabi! So where we meeting?

B walked out of the office and back to the van with a frown.

<<I'm fine with whatever for lunch, everything's going to taste funny anyway. But yeah, we get a cheap change of clothes, wipe everything with an eraser, all that... but I can't think of a reason to hold the package for more than a few hours. If the drop is scheduled for exactly 0300, the we don't pick anything up until as close before that as reasonable, allowing leeway for unexpected problems, traffic, so on and so forth. That gives us a solid week to observe, get daily patterns, all that sort of thing. Who knows, we might lucky and be able to do a street pick-up only a few hours before the delivery is scheduled.>>

Zap pulls out her commlink while waiting for the bus back home, she sends a message to her first contact. <<Hey Sarge, give me a call when you get a chance. I've got some questions. If things work out, you and I can go to the Smashing Atoms concert next month.>>

Let's take a look at the Blue Coy She pulls up street maps for the given address, checking what businesses are located nearby. What's next door on either side. Looking for someplace where a group of friends can hang out for long periods of time.

Back at the apartment, Zap puts her pistol in the cyberholster. Then she hides the deck in her bag under a mess of tampons, condoms, and brightly colored 'toy'. A quick check on the bus schedule to Touristville and she's out the door again.

Once on the bus she sends a new message to the group, <<I'm on my way to the party. I'll buzz when I get near, let me know where to go before I get there.>> She sends the list of locations that she gathered earlier to the group.

When she gets the call back from her contact she explains "I know of a person systematically abusing girls just outside of Touristville. I'm being paid to investigate the sicko, but I heard that he's managed to shake off some Knight Errant heat. Do you know who might handle those investigations? Are there any open case files on the Blue Coy? May I see them? And the last for best, are you up for Italian? Next week?



------------------------------
Hermes Chariot [5/4/4/2]
Mode: Silent
A:4 S:5 D:2 F:4

Programs: 2 Slots
Exploit; Signal Scrub
------------------------------

<<Nijo Sushi Bar, Tacoma, October 3rd, 12:30>>

Switch steps out of the cab in front of his favorite sushi place, pays the cabbie, and walks to the door. He enters and sees Akemi, a pretty Japanese girl in her early twenties, long hair up in a bun, and traditional robes on.

Switch greets her with a slight bow and inquires, Konnichiwa, O genkidesu ka?

With a slightly deeper bow, Akemi responds, Hijō ni yoku shite itadaki arigatōgozai, Switch-san. Sā, kochira e dōzo, and then escorts Switch through the bar to an empty table.

Switch pulls out his commlink, types in a few basic commands, and sends out a message to the team. I'm here, I've sent you an ARO showing the location of lunch. See you soon. Switch leans back in his chair and pulls up the menu, looking for something to catch his fancy as he awaits the others.

Hin sees the visual response and notices the unfamiliar message form. Slightly distracted from his task. he misses his cross street. Well a drink will have to wait. Thinking to himself... "who can this possibly be, now... I told him I'll come when I'm not busy..." He decides ignores the message in irritation

The next morning 8:00 am....

"I'll just drop by and see if he's in..." His contact ware dealer is the impatient type his luaghs to himelf while making his way past a scene of an apparent auto accident "Anyway being being low on cash I'm not looking....". His almost comes to a complete stop right on the walkway barely missing being sholdered out of the way.
"This must be the 'Job' he was talking about...". he accesses the message on his Comlink.....


<<From The Office of Dr. Johnson Oct 1st 2075 4:36 PM>>

<<Dear Valued customer, this is an email reminder to confirm your dental cleaning at 9:00 AM tomorrow at our office at 1732 Bel-Red road in Bellevue. Please remember to brush and floss that morning and dress to impress. The Dr. Can be very discriminating about who he takes for customers. Looking forward to seeing you and your bright smile tomorrow.

David "Mr. B" Briton
Certified Cleaner>>


He begins to alter is course wondering about a good way to the address. "

The meeting with the Jhonson is quick. "No the cleaning is not necessary. I uh, just been to a dentist..."
He starts for the door, suggesting he is given a point of contact and will provide the same before the day is out.
I gotta track my contact down Im sure he's holding a Comlink..... But first he must head home and retrieve a some, things....


Availablity check for Meta link.....



"Can't help ya man. but i have an angle on some..." "It got to wait. I'll keep in touch..."

Hin walks away a but irritated. "I gotta drop a line to the others while I can..."

He then calls and exchanges the comcode to the transys with the others.

edited my post....

Deckard:


Zap:


The rest of the group filters into the sushi joint, a bit nicer than the usual stuffershack or Denny's you would expect elicit deals to go down in. For the more Japanese impaired speakers Akemi bows and ushers you in with the clear and ridged English skills of a lingasoft. She also informs you that they have a special of shark fin soup, but at 175 nuyen its a bit pricey.

Minasan, kon'nichiwa

Deckard bows before taking a seat at the table with everyone.

Looking to the beautiful waitress serving us...
"Watashi wa remonshiatorurōru to amai ocha ga arudeshou, Ā to ikutsu ka no ryokucha aisukurīmu!"

Deckard relaxes and takes in the moment while waiting on his order.

Rachel, I'll make sure this bad man Icer pays for what he has done. I'll call you later.
Thanks Gaff, I think something heavy is going down with this guy Ortega... if you could look into and find anything I would owe you buddy. I'll keep in touch.

Zap closes the ARO Hmmm. Crossed signals again. As she approaches the dive bar she sends a message to Deckard <<Apparently I had a different idea than everyone else. Ring me if I need to be part of any conversation. Otherwise I need to work on my project.>>

Picking a seat near the window, she orders a beer from the waitress. While waiting she pulls the UCC from her deck and plugs it into her jack. Starting in AR mode she begins reconfiguring her deck putting more priority into Data Processing than Attack.

After the bottle is delivered Zap begins scanning for signals from across the street.

Matrix perception test for Silent devices in the Blue Coy.



------------------------------
Hermes Chariot [5/4/4/2]
Mode: Silent
A:2 S:5 D:4 F:4

Programs: 2 Slots
Exploit; Signal Scrub
------------------------------

Switch looks up from his virtual menu as Deckard arrives.

Hello again. Your Japanese is excellent - ever had a chance to go there? I plan to go - there and other places once I hit it big enough. Where I live now, if you don't speak it, you don't get very far.

He blows a little bit on his tea, and then takes a sip. A chirping sound comes from his commlink. Looks like Zap is already checking the place out, we'll have to see if B shows up here or there. Lets give him a little bit before we talk business.

Switch begins typing out a couple of messages.

Zap, sorry about the miscommunication. We'll be there after lunch.

With a few more taps, he sends another message. B, are you on your way?

Hin looks up at the sun and notes the time of day. "I'll have to meet up with the others later". This Ortega strikes me as a real sharp..."

Hin then picks a commcode and calls Deckard.....

<< Hey I got a bit of facework to look into. Our friend just might be close by. I'll let you in if I find him. Till tommorow then?>>

Hin's contact in the downtown area might just make this guy. He will spend the night at his spot looking 'round....

he'll just have his comlink on wireless.