Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:42 AM August 3rd, 2075

Grease stands up and shrugs, his feigned nonchalance showing how rattled he was. The room is filled with the sound of the grenade hissing out gas and various parts of the apartment falling down after being struck with a variety of firearms. Without a word his drone zips into the hallway, and he nods to himself. He grabs his throat to sub-vocalize to the team.

"Air support on the way. Figure this is going to get dicey getting out. Jack.." He starts, nodding at the pool in the ground where the gas is pooling around but not filling, "Help me get Lynx into the hallway into the cart. After that we grab the Mage and the rigger. Overkill; get out of the gas and start shutting off whatever alarms you can, and getting us control of the elevator. If you wanted to let Security know there was a fire on the other side of the building or something, that'd be good. Amy.. Amy!"

He looks at the mage, who appeared lost in thought. "Cover the door for me and Jack. We're taking the elevator until Overkill tells us otherwise; backup plan is to grab Lynx and take the stairs."

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:42 AM August 3rd, 2075
Overkill grabs Amy by the arm and helps her to her feet, half helping, half dragging her out the door of the apartment. The spirit of Air, its task accomplished, vanishes into the Astral, touching Amy's mind with a quiet "Good-bye Mistress."

Overkill pulls up a window into the apartment buildings Host, his avatar winging over to the elevator controls, locking the elevators down. Turning into the room to Jack and Grease, he shouts, "Macht Schnell! They don't have a Spider normally stationed in the Host, but a phone call will bring him in a hurry, and I'm not sure if I can fight him off in my condition." The carpet in the hall was already becoming red with Amy and Overkill's blood.

Jack drags Lynx out of the room by his feet, depositing him unceremoniously in the cart. Grease joins him a few seconds later with Falcon, and the two of them throw him in after. Jack and Grease both look into the room, knowing that they have to be exposed to the gas again to go inside and get Gutter...

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:42 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy gathers her wits with effort, heavily wounded and disoriented as she is. Half spitting, half coughing, she offers what help she can.

<<@Team [Amy's voice] "I can summon another spirit.. to move bodies.. or search, or whatever. Let me know what you... need.">>

The shaman is exhausted, but Overkill can see that the fire is still burning strong within. Great Protector, you show me the path, as always. I will continue to protect those who need it, thanks to you. And she could feel its presence, like the arms of a giant embracing her lovingly.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

The next few seconds are a flurry of activity from the group, moving as quickly as they can, stumbling around under the effects of the gas and their wounds.

Jack grabs his helmet, throwing it on his head, sets his shoulders and staggers into the first bedroom, the gas still stinging as it clings to his skin. Lifting the dwarf, who is heavier than he looks, Jack barely makes it to the cart and dumps him in, the effort in his wounded condition almost too much.

As he reaches the hallway he can see Grease has his SMG, obviously looking to grab a little more firepower than his Light Fire. Amy was slumped against the wall of the hallway, Overkill crouched protectively over her, one eye on the hallway, the other concentrating on trying to maintain his grip over the Host.

After a few seconds Amy opens her eyes, and it appears that she is breathing easier, although her wounds are still bleeding. She reaches out to the Astral to summon another spirit, but the wounds she has sustained are too much. The spirit arrives but she cannot compel it to follow her orders.

<<His avatar perched on top of the elevator icons like a gargoyle, Overkill is holding the three elevators in check - long leashes of 1's and 0's preventing them from moving. Straining to keep them under control despite his wounds and the inefficiency of working in AR, he was straining to take control of the lights. Suddenly new shapes began to form in the Host, security guards armed with heavy weapons, beginning to roam the corridors looking for intruders. It was only a matter of time before he was chased out of the Host.>>

"If you want the elevator we have to move this second, I don't know how long before I'm booted out of the Host." snaps Overkill.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

"You heard the man! ¡Vamos!" Jack urged, putting his shoulder into the heavily laden cart. The ork sure hoped there wouldn't be any more shooting, he was knocking on death's door as it was. There were many lessons to be learned from tonight, but they had to be breathing to learn from them.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

The team makes a break for the elevator, Jack and Grease making the cart trundle down the hallway as fast as they can, overburdened as it was. Amy is right behind them, again focusing her energy on compelling the troublesome spirit to obey her commands, this time managing to harness its will to her own. Overkill waits for the team to pass, jogging down the hallway, splitting his attention between the real world and the virtual one. Grease's Fly Spy brings up the absolute rear, its buzzing through the air as it keeps pace with the team.

Jack and Grease barely manage to avoid flipping the cart over as they take a sharp turn into the elevator, and the rest of the group piles in, Overkill frantically stabbing the Lobby button, and swapping mags on his SCK. He quickly drops to a sitting position. "This elevator ride is going to take about 15 seconds. I need to go into VR - I can't hold them off splitting my focus like this. If they boot me out of the Host we could be stuck in here." Without any more time to spare, he closes his eyes, and his body slumps to the ground, while his consciousness flows completely into the Matrix.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

Feeling somewhat more safe in the elevator, for the moment, Jack breathed heavily from his exertion pushing the cart while trying to keep from dying. With his helmet on, he was able to send a quick message to the team.

<<@Team [JustJack] Overkill, can you stop the elevator between floors and crack open the door? I figured we could see if they're waiting for us first rather than walk into a wall of gunfire. If they are waiting, I've still go this last FlashBang we could use. Also, right before you kill the lights, turn on the sprinklers, and leave the host, can you brick the door lock to Lynx's apartment? I know that's a lot to ask, but do what you can, priority on getting us out of here>>

The ork was going to be glad to be done with this part of the run... and looking forward to convalescing given how badly he was hurting. Edging closer to the elevator doors, he switched the Colt to his left hand and pulled out the grenade in preparation.

<<@Team [JustJack] Once we clear the elevator, head left towards the rear exit. I'll take point with the cart, Overkill covers our six on the retreat. We need to get to the parking lot ASAP>>

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

You can't see his face under the gas mask, but you get the sense Grease is grinning from ear to ear.

"Big tough assassin, went down like a chump!"

He nods over at Jack, checking the SMG he took out of the cart to get a feel for it. His body full of nervous energy, Grease sends a message to the team.

<<@Team [Grease]: Roger that, Jack. Cab is inbound. Rotodrone is also on the way to provide fire support or a distraction, depending on what we need. Overkill, any chaos you can cause in here once we're gone would be appreciated.>>

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy takes a deep breath. Her focus and composure are back as the sting of pain has somewhat faded. She looks at the team and what a bad shape they are in. I must continue to watch over them. It's not over yet.

<<@Team [Amy's voice]: Oh yeah, we'll get out of here as fast as we can. I just summoned a weaker spirit that can help during our escape. Consider it as backup.>>

Her voice was much clearer and composed than only a few seconds ago.

"Jack.. thank you. Let me see if I can do something about the pain." She puts her right hand on his forearm and appears to be casting.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

<<While his body looked peaceful in the elevator, Overkill's avatar was anything but. As he suspected, with the alarm sounded, it was only a matter of time before the IC found him, and although it wasn't as powerful as some he had faced, it was a losing proposition. His sword clove another security guard in two, as he dodged another shotgun blast from one of the security guards, but his reaction time was slowing, his wounds and the gas combining to make him an easier target for the IC. Receiving Jack's transmission, he executed a somersault through the air, and then took off down a corridor, seeking the icon that represented the lobby security camera. Grabbing onto it, the icon glowed green for a moment, and then Overkill was streaming the video feed to his teammates.>>

The elevator continued its descent, the numbers slowly changing, 4.....3......2.... Amy first lay her hands onto Jack, and he felt the pain ease slightly. It was still difficult to stand, but it was a noticeable improvement. Nodding a thank you to Amy, unwilling to show how little effect it had, he blinked as the video feed popped into his field of vision. Amy turned and touched Overkill gently on the brow, the furrows on it smoothing somewhat, but not enough for her liking.

Grease looked over at Jack, both of them receiving the same video from Overkill. The lobby was clear of people, but the two security guards in the lobby had taken up positions behind the main desk and had their pistols out, facing the elevator door. The hallway that their elevator was in, however, was clear. Grease had the additional video feeds from his drone and the cab, both getting close to the apartment.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

<<Shrieking in pain, Overkill took a shotgun blast in the back, the virulent code pumping through his avatar, corrupting files and nearly causing him to black out. He had set all the elevators to descend at the same rate, and the deception had worked - the guards didn't know which elevator to stop, and so had hunkered down at the lobby. Spinning in a half circle, he launched a blast of 1s and 0s at the icon in control of the apartment complex's light systems, overwhelming it with a massive Data Spike. He could feel more than see the IC surrounding him, and with a quick apology to Jack, he left the Host before he could be overwhelmed.>>

The elevator doors and Overkill's eyes opened at the same time. The group's lowlight vision allowed them to see down the dark hallway as if it were broad daylight, and the group made a dash down the hallway for the back exit. Jack was in the lead with Grease, both straining to push the cart, followed by Amy and Overkill. As they entered the hallway, they could see the door at the far end smash open, as a lone security guard came through it, panting at the exertion of having had to run down six flights of stairs.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

Seeing a relatively clear path to escape, Jack smacked the edge of the cart in exultation.

<<@Team [JustJack] Thanks Overkill, get out before you get slagged, hombre. We're making a break for it out the back door since the truck's still parked in the lot. Quick change: Grease and Amy cover the retreat in case they figure it out. Overkill with me on point so you can take out anyone who gets in the way. Amy, whatever your spirit can do to help, do it.>>

The ork slung his assault rifle across his back and dashed down the hallway, only to stop short as a lone guard appeared through their planned exit.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

For a split second, both sides froze, and then as one the team made a break for the door. Amy connected with her spirit, forcing the recalcitrant astral being to her will, commanding it to increase the speed of her teammates.
The spirit stubbornly obeyed, shimmering into being near the group, preparing to use its powers.

Jack's calves and thighs strained as he began pushing the cart, the amount of effort needed to get the cart and the several hundred kilos of cargo going enormous. He began to pick up speed, the doors on either side of him passing by, slowly, and then faster and faster. Overkill and Grease ran alongside him, both firing at the guard, bullets cracking down the hallway, the sound of the German elf's SCK deafening in the confined spaces. I really wish he would use a suppressor...

The guard ducked and weaved, but neither elf's fire came particularly close to him. As the storm of bullets subsided, he looked down to make sure he wasn't hit, and then back up just in time to catch the cart in his gut, the impact smashing him aside, slamming him into the wall before he bounced back onto the floor. The cart continued to travel forward, Jack shattering the exit door on his way out to the street and the waiting truck.

Lynx's Apartment Complex, Denver, CO, 3:43 AM August 3rd, 2075

Jack reached the truck, the cart slamming into the back of it and slightly rebounding. Opening the back doors, the ork reached in and started tossing bodies into the back. The sounds of gunfire, suppressed and otherwise, sounded behind him. He was glad to note that they all sounded like weapons with which he was familiar. As the rest of the team arrived, Amy and Grease made their way to the front of the vehicle and Overkill climbed in the back, helping him with Lynx's heavy body. With all of the bodies loaded, Jack hopped into the back of the truck and closed the doors. Slamming his fist into the roof of the truck, he shouted, "Let's go!"

Preparing to secure their prisoners, Jack stripped Falcon of his shirt and ripped a small hole in the back of it, right about level with where his shoulder blades would go. Turning the shirt upside down with the back facing forward, he put it back on the mage and pulled the cloth tightly before tying it into a tight knot. Well, if he can't see, maybe he can't cast? Frag if I know... Pulling the restraints from his jacket, he handcuffed all three bodies and began to search them as well as checking them to make sure they were all still alive.

Looking over at Overkill, Jack said, "Amigo, ping Johnson with the burner and let him know about the fiesta. If he can somehow get in front of the investigation, it would help. Let him know we're not quite ready to setup the transfer. Oh, you still got that headjammer? We probably need to put it on the dwarf."

Calling out to the front of the truck, Jack said, "Good job everybody! We made it!"

UCAS Sector, Denver, CO, 3:44 AM August 3rd, 2075

Checking the bodies, Jack's search turned up little. Lynx was wearing an armor vest and that was about it. No weapons or other gear. Clearing that threat, the ork checked each for a pulse. "Looks like they're all alive, but messed up pretty good."

Taking the headjammer Overkill offered him, the ork searched Gutter for a datajack or control rig access port. Finally locating it, he pluggesd the device in securely.

UCAS Sector, Denver, CO, 3:44 AM August 3rd, 2075

Overkill remote pilots the truck, heading toward the rendezvous with the cab. "Grease, make sure the meet up is in the Warrens somewhere, Lone Star is much less likely to follow us in there than anywhere else."

<<@Ramirez [Churchfriends] You are going to hear about a break in at an apartment complex on the border of the Warrens. Anything you can do to tamp down the investigation on that one would be appreciated. Things are going very well, will be in touch again shortly.>>

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:15 AM August 3rd, 2075

Grease's two cars slipped away through the black August night through the Warrens, the sounds of sirens and several helicopters fading away into the night as Lone Star responded to the firefight at the apartment complex.
The team were in a good mood, despite their injuries, the high of surviving temporarily easing the pain.

The elven rigger was in a particularly good mood, the only one uninjured, and now that the effects of the gas had worn off, was feeling positively buoyant. Professionalism. That's what I bring to the table, and that's what gets me through every time.

The cars pulled up to the safehouse, and Grease deployed his drones, including the rotodrone, to check the perimeter. Amy made a quick astral sweep of the place, but it appears that the terror inflicted upon the local Devilrat population by her spirit the other day had imprinted this house upon their tiny brains as somewhere to be avoided. The only evidence of life were some of the food-wrappers the team had left from the previous nights.

One by one they dragged the various members of Lynx's crew into the house, securing them with the restraints, and binding Falcon's eyes. Jack carried Gutter into a separate room, laying him on the bed, but still making sure he was securely fastened and the headjammer snug in its socket.

Walking back into the room he said, "Okay amigos, they should be out for a little while longer at least. Let me see what I can do about our injuries." Opening his medkit, swearing silently under his breath at the lack of supplies, he turned the diagnostics on, stripping off his armor jacket, peeling back his shirt.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:15 AM August 3rd, 2075

After a marathon round of first aid and magical healing, the team is back on their feet, feeling like 100%, although their noticeable injuries would belie that observation. With their three prisoners secured, the ork said in a low rumble, "Alright folks, we may be in the home stretch here. We've probably got a little bit of time to question them before we set-up the meet with Johnson's contacts. How do we want to play this? With Overkill's help, I can probably wake them up."

Motioning to his commlink, Jack sent a message to the team to prevent any eavesdropping from their prisoners.

<<@Team [JustJack] I'm thinking we wake up the dwarf first and see if he'll play ball on ratting out his team. If he can provide us with information, we may be able to make Lynx think we know more than we do. I think the mage needs to stay knocked out until the authorities can deal with him. Last thing we need is some spirit attacking us here>>

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:15 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy turns her mic back on and responds to Jack.

<<@Team [Amy's voice] I dunno, I really wish we could get every little detail we can out of Lynx. What we really want is the names of that Johnson and his contacts in Lone Star -- with proof. With some luck, my magic can make him more cooperative. Are we sure he doesn't have a commlink cyberware too?>>

Amy was feeling okay for now, but she knew they were all very injured and she wanted to get the run over with as fast as possible. At least the part of it that involved Lynx and Falcon.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:15 AM August 3rd, 2075

Pacing the room, Grease looks like a racehorse held back by the gate.

<<@Team [Grease]: They are going to have compartmentalized knowledge. If I were Lynx, I would keep the details of the mission as vague as possible. We can talk to Gutter first, but Lynx is the one who is going to know the score. We can convince him Gutter flipped by telling him what we found out from Stinger. I'm not sure we even need to wake Gutter up for that to be effective. At any rate, we shouldn't have a conversation with Lynx without someone in the room with a high-powered weapon pointed at him. I agree about the mage; I'd prefer he was dead but I am willing to keep him within a mile of me provided he is unconscious.>>

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:18 AM August 3rd, 2075

Jack shrugged and composed a quick message.

<<@Team [JustJack] Compromise then, we wake Gutter up. If we don't get anything useful within a minute or two, I knock him out again and we move on to Lynx. Overkill and I will try to wake him up, then we'll move back here to watch these two while Amy and Grease interrogate him. A few questions, maybe some magic. If nothing comes of it, just message me and I'll put him back to sleep. Then we move onto Lynx.>>

Jack and Overkill walked into the spare bedroom, gingerly skirting around the smeared remains of whatever the devil rats had left behind. Opening up the medkit once more, Jack got to work with Overkill assisting. I really need to restock this thing...

After a few minutes, it's clear that the lack of supplies and general difficulty of applying first aid conspired to prevent the ork from reviving the dwarf. Walking back into the living area, Jack said, "No go on that guy. Should we try Lynx?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

At Grease's nod, Jack went back into the bedroom and picked up Gutter, the dwarf's uncharacteristically heavy mass annoying him to no end. When he got back into the living room, he unceremoniously dumped the prisoner back on the ground. Try seaweed salads sometime, drekhead. Grabbing Lynx, Jack put him over his shoulder and walked back in the bedroom, Overkill standing ready to help with the medkit. Dropping the elf on the bed, the two went to work, trying their best to resuscitate the man. When it looked like all had failed, the elf's eyes slowly fluttered open.

<<@Team [JustJack] He's awake>>

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Getting on his knees in a catcher's crouch, Grease snaps his fingers a few times in front of Lynx's eyes. "Hey there- are we awake? Good. Now, before we begin, there's a few things you should know. My friends here are going to have high-powered weapons trained on you, so even if you're able to get the drop on me, they're going to ice you faster than you can think. I'll be sad that I'm dead, but I won't have to haunt anybody because my murderer will already be cold beside me. So, given that, I think it's best we all remain civil."

He looks up and nods at Jack and Amy. "Rough break. Really, I feel for you. You're sleeping, minding your own business, and a black bag squad comes in and wrecks your drek. I hope it never happens to me, it sounds awful. Fortunately, you've got one thing- One thing." he pauses, making eye contact and continues. "Keeping you alive. It's information on your employer. I can't help you here. You need to make a decision yourself. Either you can tell us what you know, or we have to kill you. I'll admire it if you go down with the ship; I really will. If that's the way you wanna go, we can drag this thing out over a few days just for form's sake; and I'll respect you more at the end of it. However, it doesn't have to go that way. You can be a farmer, or a repairman; some legitimate job in some no place town. You tell us what you know and disappear, and you don't have to worry about your boss finding out about it. It will be an adjustment, but I think you'd prefer it to what'll happen otherwise."

The elf slicks his hair back, staring earnestly at Lynx. "Who hired you?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Lynx opens his eyes slowly, looking around the room. He takes in Grease and dismisses him immediately, taking in Jack, craning his head in an uncomfortable angle, catching Amy in the corner of his eye. Smiling, speaks to her out of the side of his mouth, as he can't quite face her. "Hey honey, how's the chest? You are a tough bitch, I'll give you that."

Turning back to Grease, he slowly tests his bonds, wrists straining at the manacles, hard enough that his flesh and bone arm begins to bleed at the wrist. Lynx bulks large for an elf, his torso heavy with muscle and covered with scars. Jack can identify bullet wounds, stab wounds, burn marks, a lifetime of pain displayed on his body like a canvas. The scar at the join between metal and flesh at his right shoulder is faded, and even the metal of the arm is nicked and dented in several places.

He finally looks back to Grease, meeting his gaze levelly. "Pretty boy, I hope you are real nice to the little lady behind me. If it wasn't for her I'd have had your head on a plate, despite me being asleep when you showed up."
He spits on the ground. "You want answers, do your worst. I've had people a lot more dangerous than a little pissant like you question me."

As he is speaking, Amy reaches out to his mind with her magic, looking to insinuate the idea of cooperation the way she did with the owner of the Stuffer Shack. Her spell, however, seems to meet a brick wall as it enters Lynx's mind, and the strain of it is too much for her in her present condition. She gets an instant migraine, and barely holds a cry of pain inside as her spell to ward off the pain from her other injuries fails. Trying to breathe shallowly, she recasts the spell, the pain lessening steadily, until finally it ceases.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Maintaining eye contact, Grease nods. "Fair enough. All that chrome, you'd think you'd invest in a few cerebral boosters as well. A shame. It didn't have to get messy."

Without moving, Grease sends a message to the team through his DNI link.

<<@Team [Grease]: I'm going to try a few methods to get him to talk. I promise not to murder him, or pretend to murder any of us this time. Give me some latitude here.>>

Grimacing at the cleanliness of the floor, the elf sits all the way down in a casual pose, like he's going to chat around a campfire. "Do you think it's odd that Bradshere sold you out so quickly? He's not as tough as you, obviously."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Jack raised an eyebrow and sent a message to Grease.

<<@Grease [JustJack] No worries, hombre. If you go too far, the Streetline Special has ammo capacity enough to knock you out and still cover this pendejo>>

Standing to the side of their captive, the ork lazily waved his pistol in Grease's direction before returning to a steady aimed position targeting Lynx.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy was not paying much attention to the words spoken, trying to refocus her concentration. The first failure was not going to stop her from trying again, but she was starting to lose confidence. Her body language betrayed her state of mind to those who knew her. As determined as she was, she looked exhausted and impatient.

Trying again and again, using up reagents along the way, the shaman finally managed to get into the mind of Lynx, and implant a suggestion into his mind. "Cooperate. Answer questions truthfully."

Knowing that this would soon take effect, she smiled to herself behind the enemy shadowrunner's back.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

From under the visor of his helmet, Jack focused his attention on Lynx's restraints. Similar to a wolf gnawing its leg off to get out of a spring jaw trap, he had heard of people injuring themselves to slip out of handcuffs. Blood wasn't a great lubricant but, mixed with sweat, was better than nothing. As Grease started his interrogation, Jack sent a quick message.

<<@Team [JustJack] See if you can find out what happened to Mary Jane Kelly. Johnson may be able to do something with that. If nothing else, add something else to the rap sheet>>

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:20 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy couldn't see if Lynx was sweating, but it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to say anything. My spell's about to kick in, let's see if that'll change things for the better.

Grease was about to continue toying with Lynx, and Amy thought he should maybe hurry a little bit, to make the best of the window she had gotten for him. From behind Lynx, she grasped her link and texted the team.

<<@Team [Amy] Grease, I just casted on Lynx. It should help make him more talkative. Do you worst, it's only for a short time.>>

Thank the gods for auto-complete.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:21 AM August 3rd, 2075

Looking back at Lynx, Grease pushes down his fake mustache, still in costume from the snatch-n-grab. "You don't wanna talk about your boss, that's fine. What do you know about Crimson Fire? I get the sense it isn't just a normal street drug. And believe me, I'd know."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Lynx laughs derisively, looking over at Jack. "You trust this guy? Never trust an addict, its only a matter of time before they sell you out." Leaning back in the chair he says, "Crimson Fire? Sure, I've heard of it. Its all over the Warrens. I assume from the look of this place we are there. Just walk a few blocks in any direction, you are bound to find some pathetic piece of street trash using it."

Amy has to fight hard to resist the urge to strangle the smug elf in his chair, and even Jack, usually the calm one of the group, feels a desire to put a round into him just to make him suffer.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

This guy is tough- gotta keep him off balance, on his toes.

"Are you a Broncos fan?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Lynx arches an eyebrow at the question, and then scoffs. "Hell no."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Grease grins. Anything to keep Lynx from feeling comfortable.

"Well, let's get back to that. Your little team is starting to thin out a bit; but I imagine you can always find new friends to run with you. Provided you're able to work again." Looking up at Jack, Grease asks, "Miguel- what's the street value on that arm he's got there? It looks top shelf."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Jack rapped on Lynx's arm with the barrel of his Streetline Special, as if testing for durability. "Really depends what all he's got in there. I know a guy who would probably give us veinte grande for it, assuming it's got a few extra bells and whistles. Probably give us more, but he's looking for the other arm..."

The ork wasn't exactly sure what Grease had planned but had now worked with him long enough to believe the effort was probably worth it.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

"Practically speaking, it'd be a lot easier to take this chrome with you dead or unconscious." Examining his fingernails, he looks back up.

"While you're awake though, I don't see any reason we can't keep chatting. One neat trick was how you convinced the people at the diner into forgetting who was there- how'd you manage that?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Amy comes across and sits on the bed, pulling out her survival knife and picking at her nails with it. "I don't know why you even bother with this. Let's just sell him for parts and be done with it. Actually, I wouldn't mind spending some alone time with him first..."

Grease looks at Lynx as if to say, "Would you rather talk to me or to her?"

Lynx speaks reluctantly, but gives away no more than he needs to. "That's Falcon's job. Easy enough to disguise someone's appearance with magic if you know what you are doing."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Grease nods. "Yeah, we figured. That databomb you left behind on the video footage was pretty serious business too- was that your Rigger's doing?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Lynx snorts, "You are embarrassing yourself. Come on, you know Data Bombs aren't in a rigger's wheelhouse."

You can see Lynx thinking about something else, and he seems to be getting pissed.

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Grease smiles slowly. "Oh that's right- it was probably the Decker you roll with. Where is he tonight anyways?" He gives Lynx a conspiratorial wink. "Rescue party, maybe?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Lynx comes straight off the bed, launching himself directly at Grease, his teeth bared as if to rip out the elf's throat. Grease fell back instinctively, his hands protecting his face, while Amy got off a quick spell, the magical energies striking the assassin. However, incensed as he was at Grease's taunting, he was able to shrug the effects off. What he was not able to shrug off, however, was the left cross from Jack's meaty hand.

The ork had been waiting for something like this, and before Lynx had taken more than a step he was knocked to the ground, striking his head on the floor with a thump. Overkill came into the room a second later, looking at the unconscious elf on the floor, and then to his teammates. Jack coughed behind his hand and said, "He, uh, fell." Amy shrugged as if to say she didn't see anything.

Grease immediately pointed at Jack and said, "Don't look at me, it was his fault!" Overkill sighed and shook his head, walking back into the living room to keep an eye on Falcon and Gutter.

Grease grinned sheepishly at Jack, and then looked down at Lynx's unconscious form. "Well, this is going to make it more difficult for him to answer our questions..."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:22 AM August 3rd, 2075

Shaking his left hand a bit, Jack replied, "It's nice to see that you have that kind of effect on other people... Well, nothing to be done about it now. Hopefully the rigger will wake up while this one is out and we can see if he's willing to spill. Hmm... what if we could convince him that we killed everyone else and he's the last one left holding the bag? If he has proof of his innocence or of the others guilt, I bet he'd be willing to share it."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

Half an hour had passed since Jack had laid out Lynx, and the team had mostly been cooling their heels. Jack had dragged Lynx back into the living room with Falcon, and then made one more trip to the bedroom with Gutter's unconscious form. Next time, we need a wheelbarrow.

Grease had set up surveillance drones in both rooms, and Overkill kept his SCK trained on Falcon's body, ready to pump him full of stick and shock the instant he showed any signs of consciousness.

Finally, the team could hear groaning from the bedroom, as the dwarf stirred on the bed, his voice hoarse, he croaked out, "Water.... do you have any water?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

Hearing the dwarf stir, Grease moves quickly into the bedroom to tend to him.

Cradling Gutter's head in his arm, he lifts him up as gently as a baby and gives him a sip of water from a cup.

"There you go buddy- it's alright now, it's almost over."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

Gulping greedily at the cup, the dwarf drains it in seconds and then coughs, over and over, his body almost convulsing. After a few seconds, the coughing subsides, and he breathes a little easier.

"Thank you." He seems to truly be aware of his surroundings for the first time, noticing he is handcuffed, and looks around at the team. "Where am I?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

Nodding, Grease answers him, speaking slowly and clearly. "The safehouse got hit. Falcon is dead; Lynx is hanging on by a thread. We were able to intercept them before they took you too far. What's the last thing you remember?"

[b]2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

"Dead!?" The dwarf tries to sit up and winces, laying back down again. You can see the bruising on his throat, the markings from his fingers clearly visible against his pale skin. "I remember falling asleep and then I woke up, and I couldn't breathe."

Looking around again in a panic, he again asks, "Where am I? Who are you?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

"That's right, dead." Grease maintains eye contact with him, his voice soothing, with a slight tone of inquiry. "As I said, the safehouse was hit. We've moved you to a new, safer location in the meantime. Somehow, the opposition got wind of where you were staying. We need to figure out how that happened- who the leak was." Grease pauses, eyeing him closely. "So, step by step, tell me what you remember before you fell asleep. Any slight detail may be important."

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

The dwarf was still obviously dazed and confused, and he tried to spread his hands in the universal, 'I don't know' gesture, but the restraints held his wrists tightly together.

"Why are my hands tied? Are you from Biogene?"

2525 South Dunkirk Street, Aurora Warrens, 4:45 AM August 3rd, 2075

Bingo.

"You inhaled a lethal dose of a nasty new gas we weren't familiar with. Your hearty dwarven constitution was the only thing that saved you. Falcon wasn't so lucky. We restrained you to make sure you didn't break your back having a seizure while you were unconscious." Nodding at Jack, Grease gestures to the restraints. "They aren't necessary now. Tell us what you remember."