Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 9:58 AM, August 1st, 2075

Amy comes back to the safehouse to find it completely silent. Jack was asleep on the sofa and Overkill had found his way to a bed, but no sign of Grease. You gotta be kidding me! He left straight away and left the house unguarded? Damn Grease.

While waiting, she decided to check if the matrix has anything interesting regarding human sacrifice, not expecting much, but who knows. Ewww.. not what I want. Woah.. gross. Going from murder video archive channels to depraved sites and back, Amy eventually gives up, unsure about how one should look for that kind of thing while shielding oneself of the terrible images the matrix had to offer.

Amy had moved to cats with captions by the time Grease gets back. "Thanks for taking care of it, but why the hell did you leave the house unguarded?" There wasn't much to answer to that and Grease was in no mood. "It's done, no one is hurt, let's move on."

Amy grumbles but decides to choose her battles, this wasn't that big a deal right now. "I want to strike tonight. We can't let their rituals continue. We can discuss how we should go about it when the other two are well rested, no? I think I might as well sleep some more, too, I doubt we'll get much sleep again this evening. Wake me up first if you want to rest, all right?"

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 10:00 AM, August 1st, 2075

Grease grumbles an affirmative, and focuses again on his drone, leaving Amy to head to the bedroom and try and get a little more rest. Amy tosses and turns, laying on her right side with her left arm flung over her head to try and muffle the sound of Jack snoring. Between the hideous sounds emanating from her ork companion and the bright light of the late morning sun, it is at least an hour before she falls asleep.

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

It seems that Amy had just closed her eyes and fallen asleep when she was woken by the sounds of movement in the room. Opening her eyes, she saw Jack and Overkill slowly getting to their feet, Jack rubbing his eyes with both hands, while Overkill wiped his down with a lens cleaner. Pushing herself up off of the floor, she joined the other two as they went into the main area, and found Grease leaning against the drone, eyes a little droopy and he stared out the window.

"Hola, how'd things go this morning?" asked Jack.

Grease looked up, startled, and said, "Fine, fine - there's some coffee over there, probably a little cold by now, but better than nothing."

Overkill walks over and looks at it skeptically, and then takes a sip, shrugs, takes a bigger gulp, and then moves over to the drone. "If we are going to be able to use this drone tonight, I need to get back to work. Entschuldigung, Meine Freund." He shoos Grease with a wave of his hand, and then picks up his kit, and starts tinkering with the exposed circuitry of the drone. "I am still several hours away from completing this."

Grease pushes his chair back, gets up, and moves to the couch. "Ok, so what's the plan?"

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Well, I dunno much more than I did about what is going on with Truck's ritual. It could be magic, it could just be some sadistic drek, but I know I want to go see the site before tonight to get a better idea, and I don't want to go there alone. We have to meet with Chapel soon and Overkill will be done with the repairs in a few hours. When all that's done, why don't we all go take a look at the site? We can make a quick stop to let loose the flyspy that was at Nic's, near the btl house. What do you think?" Amy asked looking at no one in particular.

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

"While I was on watch last night, I reviewed the footage a few more times, trying to get a feel for the area." The ork grabbed the cold cup of soykaf off the counter and pulled the heat activation tab on the bottom of the cup. Feeling the container warm up in his hands, he took a swig.

Opening up the video file they had been provided earlier that morning, Jack paused it near the beginning when it provided a rough overhead shot of the area. Using the editing software on his commlink to take a screen capture of the display, he invited MARKs on the image file from the rest of the crew. Opening his AR display, he watched as each of the members of the team MARKed the file before continuing. "The good thing is that we have a pretty solid time and location for setting up an ambush. The bad thing is that, while the time seems pretty dead-on, there could be two possible locations for the next sacrifice. Here and here." The ork marked the locations of the empty sacrificial crosses on the image. "Now, they're not too far away from each other, so most locations we pick to set up our firing positions should work for both potential targets. If we get out there early enough, we can set up stakes at each firing position to help zero in on the two potential targets."

"The basic plan is pretty simple. We open with a FlashBang trap set-up in front of either cross to try to catch them all, then we bring the pain. If we're lucky, the initial blast will disorient them enough that taking them down will be easy. Depending on supplies, we can set up each firing position with a Flash-Pak to help us avoid return fire... or spells."

Glancing over at Amy, Jack responded, "Personally, I'd like to get over there right after we go meet Chapel while we still have good daylight. I know Overkill will be busy here, but we don't necessarily want to bring in too many people on reconnaissance. You and me for sure. Grease is welcome as well unless he'd rather come jumped in to a drone."

"Drek..." Jack cursed. "Overkill, you still have the burner comm Ramirez gave us? We need to contact him and get authorization to take this fragger down. If you can transfer that video file from one of our commlinks to the burner without leaving any fingerprints, we could send it to Ramirez so he understands why we need to kill Truck."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Grease responds. "Sure, I'll come along. I can give everyone a lift. Which car do we wanna take? It's going to be a while here before this Rotodrone is up and running. That said," he pauses, a grin forming. "Are you sure we need to ask first? I'm more of a "beg forgiveness" rather than "ask permission" type. It puts Ramirez in a jam if we say, "Cool if we murder this guy?""

Grease wipes his hands on a towel. The Rotodrone they were working on looks pretty ugly, but they seem to be making enough progress you think it might fly by this evening.

"If we don't tell him, he's got plausible deniability. I think he'd understand if we showed him after. We need someone to talk, though. You think that's Stinger?" Grease frowns. "If we plan on killing Truck, that means we've got to ace this whole project. And, it probably means we need to get 'em both tonight. I have to imagine Lynx is going to close ranks if we take out someone on his team and he thinks he's being targeted."

His grin turns into a frown. "Both at the same time probably means dividing the team. Which is going to be real tough, because I think we need everyone to take Truck out."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

Jack carefully considered Grease's comments. The ork was absolutely not surprised with Grease's suggestion of bending the terms of the agreement. "You know, Ramirez seems like a stand-up enough hombre that he'd probably be okay if we did killed Truck rather than bringing him in, particularly with the video evidence we have. With any other Johnson, I'd be a bit worried that they'd stick to the letter of their request and we wouldn't get paid the second half of our fee. If it's a risk the group is willing to take, then so be it. If we do, I think we should video the attack so that Ramirez will know we were trying to save someone's life and taking out Truck was the only way to do it."

Smiling grimly, the ork continued, "I'm pretty sure nabbing Truck isn't going to help. He doesn't have a tongue, from what I could tell at the hotel, so he ain't talking. Stinger seems like the way to go if we want to get information. The problem being that we don't know when he's going to return to the chip house and I don't think any of us are seriously considering letting this ritual go any further just to get the chance of nabbing them at the same time. I also think you're right that we're going to need everyone on this Truck operation, especially if they turn out to be Awakened."

Scratching the stubble that had started to grow on his chin and cheeks, Jack pondered, "I've been worried for a while about Lynx's crew going to ground if we return fire, but I think Truck may have given us a present here. He's clearly involved in some fragged up drek and there are probably plenty of people other than us that would want to put a stop to it. If we take this crew out, we might be able to make the scene look like something else happened. Put their bodies around one of the crosses and burn them to cinders, make it look like their ritual may have gone bad or some magic threat may have taken them out for what they were doing. I'm hoping it would at least buy us some time, maybe enough to snag Stinger and get the dirt on the rest of the crew."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

"We may not have to hit both Stinger and Truck simultaneously," Drave chimed in from behind a pile of drone parts. "Stinger only indulges in BTLs when he knows he has hours he can be away without drawing too much suspicion from Lynx. If we can manage to get Stinger shortly after he has arrived, and the timing of his arrival is within 2-4 hours from the time of the ritual, his absence will likely go unnoticed until well after we have ambushed Truck and his fellow cultists."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

There was a lot going on and Amy struggled to keep track of all the loose ends. "When we visit the site today, that'll give me a pretty good clue whether awakened people are involved or not. If they're awakened, we'll want to be careful, it's possible that I'd call off the attack when I get a better idea of their abilities at the moment of the ambush."

"I agree we need to make it look like there's a good reason for attacking them. But at the same time, we might be able to take down Truck without killing him, that way we could make more money. If we bring him to justice with evidence of what he's been doing, it would look like it has nothing to do with the activities of the crew. Two birds with one stone, no?"

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

Frowning, Grease nods with what the group is saying. "I feel like I need to address the elephant in the room."

He pauses for effect. "Is anyone else at all concerned that he might be a frakking vampire? He and his cronies were drinking the blood from that woman tied to the cross. Truck bit her in the neck!"

He scratches the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. "I don't really know that much about Vampires; just that it's some offshoot of the HMHVV? Do we need a stake? Garlic? Silver bullets?"

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:03 PM, August 1st, 2075

Amy chokes up with a short laugh. "A vampire? On a full moon it should be a werewolf!"

Amy knew better than to doubt old tales, herself being a supernatural being in a way, but this was a bit crazy.

"More seriously, if they drink the blood to feed, what's the point of the ritual? I don't think crosses fare well with vampires either." She smiled again. "And people could quickly find out if Truck was never around during daytime... I can't believe I'm really responding to this."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Crazier drek has happened, right? But from the trids I've watched, aren't they supposed to have a hard time in the sun? We know Truck was walking around during the day when he and the mage were at Schaefer's. If we're assuming he was also the gunner that took down Newton, that's another day time appearance."

Considering Amy's earlier suggestion, Jack replied, "No matter the reason, I think Lynx's crew and any Lone Star conspirators would go to ground if Truck showed up in lock-up... not to mention the challenge of moving and securing a psicópata troll. I think in this case, it would just be easier to take him down for good and let a recording prove our case. If we can manage to make it look like the reason he was killed had nothing to do with us, they may be none the wiser. Drek, this is the FRZ, people die here all the time."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Sure Jack. And if we save the second victim, that's reason enough. I just figured that since our job was to take him alive, we should at least entertain the idea of fulfilling the terms of the contract. It might be impossible or very unsafe though, you're right."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

Mentally sighing, Jack responded, "Correcto... that's why I had suggested we contact Ramirez before hand to get an OK to kill if it meant saving an innocent life. We can still take that option, I just don't see any reason not to try to kill him if Ramirez gives the green light."

Grabbing his jacket and helmet, Jack continued, "Do we want to continue talking this out in the car? I know Overkill is going to be staying here to work on the drone, but we still need to swing by and drop off the Fly-Spy at the chip-house before we meet Chapel. That meeting is in about an hour. If we swing by the Arsenal grounds afterward, we should have better intel to refine our plan, whatever that may be, when we all meet back up here."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Of course! If the terms change, why bother? Truck's a monster."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

Shaking his head, Grease grabs his keys. "Well, I'm not convinced. Someone drinking blood says vampire to me."

Grease taps something out on his RCC, one of his fly-spies goes into the window. "Easy enough. I'll send this guy to the chiphead house, we'll get some video of the layout before we head over there later. I can jump in and get a closer look once we're nearby." He throws it back towards the window, where it flutters it's wings and takes off on it's mission.

"Amy; could you get a spirit to check it out as well? I don't know how taxing that is for you, but if it's not much trouble it might help." Grease turns to Overkill as he heads towards the door. "Could you try to re-jigger the AK? I know you guys wanted to borrow it so we have some extra firepower; if you're able to make it take normal ammo cartridges we can work on putting together all the stuff we're about to pick up from Chapel."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:04 PM, August 1st, 2075

Amy nods. "Sure I could do that, but I'd prefer to be within half a kilometer of the place while my spirit does that. I think it's far enough to avoid attracting attention to us."

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

"I will take care of it, Mein Freund," Drave said in response Grease's request about the AK. "We are going to need it to engage them at these ranges. And I think I am in agreement that we may want to leave Ramirez out of this one until afterwards. The evidence will speak well enough for itself."

DP

Abandoned house, S. Flanders Ct, 1:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

Grease, Jack, and Amy say farewell to Overkill as they leave the house, and walk to Grease's taxi out front. Grease brings his Fly Spy down out of the air with a command, and puts it in the car next to him, even as Overkill launches his own imported version of the same drone up to maintain the security of the house. While they drive, Amy concentrates briefly and a small spirit appears in the astral, looking like a small gnome. "Thank you for coming, I shall need you shortly."

Up the street from the Chip House, South Dunkirk Street, 1:25 PM, August 1st, 2075
They head south, feeling a little uneasy as they cross E. Smokey Hill Road again for the second time in two days, and head down E. Orchard Road. Grease pulls the car onto South Dunkirk Street and parks, and Amy summons the spirit again. "Please head to the fourth house down the block, and search out anything in the building that appears in the astral: wards, spirits, watchers, and report their presence to me."

The spirit nods, and then vanishes. Meanwhile, Grease launches the drone out the window, and has it fly down the block about a thousand meters in the air. Grease pilots the drone down the street, which although once a nice neighborhood, has declined greatly since the early 21st century. Grease shares the video feed to the image links of Jack and Amy. The front door of the house looks like it has been reinforced from the original, and the windows on the ground floor have been boarded up. There is a gate leading from the side of the house into the back yard, and there are no visible guards outside. There is very little traffic on the block, although there are a handful of thugs on the corner, who stop passing motorists and lean into their cars. The thugs are a mix of teens and young adults, mostly human but with one that looks to be an ork. They are wearing black and green gang colors, with a bloody eyeball on the back.

Amy recognized the colors, "Those are member of the Zombies, they handle some of the chip trade, although I'm not sure where they get their product from."

Amy's spirit communicates with her, "There are no wards or astral beings in the house, mistress."

Amy relays this information to the team, and then to the spirit she says, "Please tell me how many people there are in the house, and if there are any awakened people."

Again the spirit disappears for a minute or so, then says, "Mistress, there are a total of ten metahumans in the house, none of which are awakened."

Up the street from the Chip House, South Dunkirk Street, 1:25 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Thank you, friend."

Amy reports what she could find out to the rest of the team. "They don't have magical protection inside the house, and I'd have been surprised if they did. There are 10 people in there right now."

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:58 PM, August 1st, 2075

After completing their initial surveillance of the chip house, the team took a quick drive through the Warrens to the Bar-rel. The streets were even more quiet than normal as local inhabitants stayed inside to avoid the inevitable reprisals from Lone Star, and potential further incidents from Warrens United.

Pulling up to the restaurant, they parked, got out of the car and entered, quickly spotting their contact at a table by the window. Chapel's shirt collar and tie were a little relaxed in the heat, and he lifted his sunglasses as they approached.

"Hello Grease, great to see you again. Jack, a pleasure, and Amy, good to see you as well." As everyone sits at the table, he says, "I have your stuff in the car, shall I order a round of drinks first? On me, of course."

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:58 PM, August 1st, 2075

Amy was glad to meet the man who gave her a first chance in the shadows. "We can't stay long, but I don't see why we couldn't spend a few minutes talking, now that I finally get to meet you, Chapel."

She sits down across from him and moves over. When the waitress comes by she orders a cup of soycaf.

"Thanks for that vest you got me, it might have saved my life."

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:59 PM, August 1st, 2075

Chapel smiles and says, "I'm happy to hear that. You all look in reasonably good health, given that you had a close call." His smile suddenly vanishes, replaced by a look of concern.

He orders a latte, and after Grease and Jack place their order, and the waitress is gone, he says, "Is there a reason Overkill isn't here?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:59 PM, August 1st, 2075

"He's held up fixing up some piece of metal. Nothing to worry about." Amy smiles, trying to be charming. She was surprised that Chapel knew what had happened, but at the same time comforted, since it could mean that he cared for them, or just stayed well informed. Either way he was doing his job right. "So you've heard?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:59 PM, August 1st, 2075

"I hear lots of things", he said with a smile, obviously relieved that Overkill was okay. "I didn't know specifically what the situation was, only that if an armor vest may have saved your life, you were in a fight."

"Hmm, I can make a few deductions though. Glad to see you all got away safe and sound"

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:59 PM, August 1st, 2075

"¡Buenos días! Chapel," Jack said as he sat down at the booth. "Thanks for taking care of the shopping list. I think we're going to need it. Mr J. has us cajones-deep in bad drek, but that's what we get paid the big nuyen for, right?"

The ork carefully considered Chapel's offer. On one hand, he didn't think it was all that professional to drink before heading out to do a job. But on the other hand, it might be the last beer he would ever had. Figuring one beer would have little effect on someone of his mass, he decided to take up Chapel's offer. "I'll take a cerveza, por favor."

The Rusty Bar-rel 1:59 PM, August 1st, 2075

Grease gives Chapel a big smile. "Yes, I'll take a beer as well. I still owe you that lunch next week."

Nodding at a few patrons as they make their way to their spots at the bar, he continues. "You haven't heard any chatter from your usual sources about something that's up? I feel like we're drawing extra heat from this assignment, and any information you have would be valuable to us wrapping this thing up."

His face gets serious, his smile vanishing. "That is, anything you know off hand. We've already had someone get burned by asking around on this one."

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:00 PM, August 1st, 2075


As the drinks arrive and the waitress leaves again, Chapel says "Cheers!" and takes a sip of the latte.

"Sorry Grease, I haven't heard anything regarding the job, but that's outside my area of expertise." He looks over to Jack, "Not sure if the Colt is for you, but she is a beauty."

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

Jack clinked his beer against the other glasses and took a deep swig.

"Got it in one. I'm looking forward to putting a few rounds downrange with it. Unfortunately, we don't really have time to visit the range... I think this is the first weapon I've ever owned that is likely to be blooded on first firing." Contemplating that, Jack grimly smiled. "No problem getting the fireworks?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

Chapel shakes his head, he lowers his voice a little."No problem. UCAS made assault rifles? Easy as pie. You want me to get you a laser, that might be an issue, but I can always get my hands on homegrown slugthrowers."

Chapel stands, swipes payment for the bill over to the waitress, and then puts his sunglasses back on. "Shall we check out the merchandise?"

The quartet exit the restaurant and move to the parking lot. Outside is Chapel's Shin-Hyung, and he pops the doors open remotely. Each person enters, with Amy in the front seat and Grease and Jack in the back. Grease looks impressed despite himself, as Chapel takes care of his car, and there are a few top of the line after-market upgrades. Flicking a switch, the car windows polarize, and Chapel says, "Jack, reach behind you and hit that switch, that will open the hatch to the trunk."

Jack complies, and removes a long gun case and a smaller, thicker suitcase. "Go ahead and check it over, make sure everything is there."

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

Jack smoothed his hands across the hard case. Unsnapping the latches of the case, he reached inside and felt the smooth, cold metal and the hard plastic of the hand guards and stock. Peeking inside, he took note of the weapon, shock pad, and spare magazines. Latching the case back, he passed it to Grease and reached for the suitcase. Considering the remainder of the gear, it was relatively light. Unzipping the ballistic cloth top, he took note of several boxes of ammo, the external smartgun system, a gas vent-system, several magazines for an AK-91, and two boxes large enough to each fit a baseball. Pulling the last items out, the ork chuckled as he read the "This One Goes To Eleven!" marketing tagline of the Ares SpinalTap FlashBang grenade on the boxes. Glancing at Chapel in the rear-view mirror, Jack said, "Perfect, hombre..."

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Excellent. Use it in good health." As Jack closes the boxes again, Chapel adjusts the settings on the radio, keeping the volume low, but loud enough to fool spoof anyone outside listening in. The haunting sounds of Eliza Starr's "Magic Eyes" filling the car. At least, they would be haunting if they hadn't been played over and over again over the past few weeks. With so much repetition, the song had long since ceased to be moving, and now had the air of elevator music.

"Are we close to getting paid on this one?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Just a few loose ends to tie up, shouldn't be too much trouble. You'll be the first to know if we hit any serious snags." At least, any that I think you need to worry about. "You have anything else on the horizon you may need us to look into? Always pays to do some research up front before we accept a job, if we get the chance."

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

Chapel looks a little relieved and says, "Glad to hear it. Its always important to make the jobs for your friends go smoothly." The song on the radio was reaching its crescendo, and Eliza's voice rose to stay on top of the synth accompanying her.

"As for other jobs, I've always got some kicking around, you think you'll be available in a couple of days?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

Jack frowned, but said nothing. Grease had his way of doing things and the ork was pretty confident Chapel was smart enough to know the score.

The song was pretty catchy, although that wasn't all that surprising given the amount of research nuyen the big entertainment corps poured into subliminal messaging. If the ork recalled correctly, Starr was performing in Denver soon. Wonder if Honeypot is a fan? Tickets to the show would probably help to take her mind off what she's had to deal with lately...

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:05 PM, August 1st, 2075

In response to Chapel's inquiry, Grease shrugs. "There's a number of parts in motion; it's difficult to predict when they'll come to a head. I wouldn't want to accept something time sensitive if we end up having another week on this one bird-dogging down some particular lead."

Grease rolls his shoulders, adjusting in the seat to become more comfortable. "I'll give you a call when this one is wrapped up; presuming we don't need too much downtime afterwards we can try to get something else lined up."

Grease looks back at Jack in the backseat, as if to ask, "So, we're done, right?"

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:06 PM, August 1st, 2075

"I'd be up for it if we can get this one knocked out soon. Speaking of, we need to get going. Thanks for the gear, Chapel. Always appreciated." Jack said, catching the inquiring look from Grease to finish up.

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:06 PM, August 1st, 2075

"As always, happy to be of service. Keep in touch." Amy, Grease, and Jack leave the car, and walk over to Grease's taxi, while Chapel roars out of the parking lot. They stash the gear in the trunk, and follow Chapel out of the lot, but making a left onto North Chambers instead of a right.

Watching his car fade from view, the trio follow Chambers up to East 56th Street, and make a left. The Arsenal, once fairly open, had been left unattended in the last half-century, and so was much more heavily overgrown. Traveling down E.56th, the 3 meter fence with razor-wire atop it ran alongside them to their right, although there were gaps in the fence where people, or animals (normal or otherwise) had forced their way through.

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

As the car zoomed down the fence line of the former military compound, Jack said, "Let's find somewhere we can gain access to the base and stash the car. If we send up the Fly-Spy to get a good overhead view of the area, it should make it easier to get to the location."

Jack mentally accessed his skilljack and loaded up a few appropriate skillsoft. Checking that his Streetline Special was still secured in his pocket holster, he pulled his SMG from under the set. "Given the stories about this place, I think it's best to be preparado."

GEAR

The Rusty Bar-rel 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

Amy remembers what she's heard about the Arsenal since a young girl and warns the rest of the team. "Yes be ready for anything. I've heard all sorts of things about this place, and that disgusting ritual we saw might not be the only weird activity going on in these parts. Better stay on paths that were used recently and stay clear of the open areas, I've heard there might still be explosives and land mines!"

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

Land mines? Great.

Opening the glove box of the cab, Grease produces a rather large firearm, his Ingram X. Slung over his shoulder with a strap, he tucks it under his jacket in an effort to be slightly less conspicuous. It doesn't work that well, but maybe that's the idea. He then reaches his hand behind his back and produces a small pistol; an L36. he puts that in the gloves box, and paws around until he pulls out a smaller, sleeker looking model; an Ares Light Fire 75. Where did he even get that?

"Sure, sounds good to me. If we want, I can send the cab (with the stuff in it) to Overkill, and have the beemer come out here and hide someplace inconspicuous to pick us up. Would save us the time of having to go drop off his stuff to him, too."

Frowning and scratching an itch, Grease comes up with another idea. "We can have the microskimmer scout out ahead of us, and sniff around. It should be able to tell if there's any old ordnance lying around through it's olfactory sensor. Of course," he grins, "If it's a military mine, no way in hell I'm going to be able to detect it until it's too late. Those things are pretty well hidden, by design."

GEAR:

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

Jack nodded. "That would work, but let me grab a few things out of the trunk first." The ork moves to the rear of the taxi and lifts the popped trunk. Unzipping the suitcase, he opens the boxes with the grenades and pulls each of them out. Inspecting the devices, he makes sure their wireless mechanisms were switched off and fully in safe mode. He slips one grenade into a pocket and hands the other to Grease. "Can you hold onto this for now? I'm running out of pockets..." The ork contemplates a military rucksack purchase in the near future.

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

"Let me see what your drone sees while you're doing recon. I'll be better able to instruct my spirit to also go take a look afterwards." Amy asks Grease.

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

Grease pulls the cab over to the side of the road, and the trio exits quickly, ducking into the underbrush near the chain-link fencing. A quick mental command sends the taxi following its autopilot back toward the abandoned house where Overkill still worked patiently on the rotodrone.

Keeping the fence on their right, the runners moved westward, their eyes open and alert for possible dangers as well as a break in the fence they could exploit. Within a hundred yards, they were able to find a gap large enough for Amy and Grease to squeeze through easily, with Jack having a little more difficulty getting his bulk through.

Once on the other side of the fence, Grease released his drones, the Fly Spy rocketing up into the air even as the microskimmer hovered down on the ground around their feet. With a few quick adjustments, Grease fed the video from the Fly Spy to Amy and Jack, and each put the overhead view up in an AR window.

The Fly Spy cruised around 100 meters off the ground, and most of what the trio were seeing was a thin canopy of trees and bushes, no buildings or vehicles in sight. Thermographic scans of the forested areas revealed some larger heat forms, but nothing that walked upright.

With the microskimmer about 30 yards ahead of them, Jack took the lead, with Grease and Amy following behind. They all tried to follow behind one another, minimizing the chances of stepping on a mine.

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

With his SMG at the ready, Jack led the team forward. The AR feed from the drone was projected directly into his brain through the magic of the electrode net in his helmet. Indexing their progress against the feed, the ork headed north, scanning the forest for signs of life and other dangers. As the lead, most of his efforts were focused on the ground in front and to the sides of him, given the danger of unexploded ordnance. Fortunately, it also gave him the opportunity to search for the tracks of the predators and prey of the forest. A lot could be learned about an area based on the presence and movement of the creatures that lived there.

Outside the Arsenal, 2:15 PM, August 1st, 2075

Amy calls out for the spirit to do yet another scouting for her. "Please go ahead and scan this outdoors area for sentient beings. Report their position and nature back to me when you're done and you can go home after that."

Arsenal Trail, 2:25 PM, August 1st, 2075

The spirit leaves Amy's side and the group continued down the trail.

The forest was alive with sounds, which made all of the nervous, Amy most of all. Having lived her whole life in the Warrens, an area completely devoid of sprawl was unnatural to her. The microskimmer burbled along happily, although Grease was holding his breath each time the skimmer went over a bump, fearing that it would be the last he would see his little friend.

Jack stopped the group every five minutes or so, bending down to examine a broken branch, or a flattened pattern of grass. "However these hombres brought the girl here, it wasn't this way. No recent tire tracks, and if they were on foot, someone Truck's size would leave a trail like an elephant through here."


Amy's spirit had returned after 10 minutes, having searched the area for sentient life, and reported having found nothing in the immediate area that matched that description, bowed once, and vanished. Relaying this information to the rest of the group, they continued on.

Near the Sacrifice Site, 3:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

The mile and half had taken them 45 minutes to cover, moving as slowly as they were. The Fly Spy was now giving them footage of the sacrifice site, and the image was not pretty. As they came into the clearing, they could see the woman still hanging from the cross, but she would be unrecognizable now without a DNA test. Scavengers had gotten to her over night. Large chunks of flesh were missing, and her left leg was torn completely off at the knee.

Ravens perched on her shoulder, picking at the scraps of skin on her face, and but they scattered as the group approached. Skyward they went, grisly trophies still in their beaks, their wingbeats and cries echoing across the lake.

Near the Sacrifice Site, 3:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

As they arrived at the gruesome site of the sacrifice, Jack stopped and held up a fist, giving the universal "everyone stop moving" sign. Accessing his messaging software through the direct neural interface provided through his helmet, he sent the group a message.

<<@Squad [JustJack] Alright folks, we're here. Let's try to avoid getting too close to the sight. The ground around lakes can be pretty soft and we don't want to leave tracks if we can help it. The body is in bad shape, so if you've got a weak stomach, best not to look at it too closely. We definitely don't want to leave those kinds of tracks. Let's do our recon, Amy: check the astral. Grease: try to find a few concealed spots within 75 meters of the two crosses.>>

Jack used his helmet's vision magnification system to get a better look at the body and tried to compare it to the image he had of Renata. He then focused his attention on the ground, around the occupied cross looking for tracks.

Near the Sacrifice Site, 3:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

Dry heaving a few times, Grease turns away from the scene of the woman still strung up on the post. The area itself is humming with the sound of nature, a spread of noise that makes the place seem even more alien and gruesome to the mechanic who is never more than 10 feet from asphalt.

We have to cut her down, we can't leave her like this. This is.. I can't...

Steeling himself, Grease forces himself to turn back towards the victim. <<@Team[Grease]: We can't touch the body; they'll know somebody came. We have to.. leave her, until this is finished.>>

Making eye contact with the rest of the team, Grease continues. <<@Team[Grease]: We'll make them pay. She deserves better, and we'll make sure they don't get it.>>

Calling his skimmer drone over, Grease taps out a few AR commands.

<<@Skippy[Grease]: Search the immediate area for any tracks, trails, or foot prints. Gather what DNA evidence that you can. Use your olfactory sensors, but do NOT send the simsense back to me; I will let you know when I'd like that turned back on. I can read the readouts just fine without the full experience.>>

Near the Sacrifice Site, 3:00 PM, August 1st, 2075

Right from the start, Amy didn't like the Arsenal. She knew that nature was pure in the astral compared to the city, and this place was anything but pure. There were a lot of living auras and that was refreshing, even with the stagnant astral thickness. But there was a stench of something that must have happened a long time ago that loomed over the area.

Arriving at the site, Amy expected something pretty disgusting, and yet this was even worse. Bringing a hand to her face she looked away at first, and then forced herself to examine the scene, first physically, and then in the astral. In both cases, the atrocity that had happened was immediately obvious. Inspecting with more detail the aura of the ritual site, she convinced herself that it wasn't an entirely mundane act.

<<@Team[Amy's subvocal]: Yes Grease, this is foul, we have to stop these people at all cost. I got some bad news, I'm pretty sure that ritual magic was used here. Whatever they're doing, it's leaving an aura behind and no mundane could do that. I have no idea what they're doing but it's evil.>>