Amy, Aurora Warrens, Los Mags turf, 11:35 PM, July 29th, 2075

Amy looks both ways out of the alley she was hiding in, and then joins in with a line of junkies moving down the road.

Humans, elves, orks, even some dwarves and trolls make up the line. Each shows the signs of neglect - their hair looking stiff bristles sticking out of their head, their eyes sunken, cheeks hollow.

Their clothes are in a frightful condition, almost falling off of their bodies in disrepair. Amy has a difficult time pushing down her anger and maintaining character in the face of such suffering.

As she turns off of Billings Street and towards an old movie theater that went out of business 50 years ago, she sees the parking lot is bustling with activity.

A corner of the parking lot has been cordoned off, and a ramshackle chop-shop has been erected. Bald hispanic men with tatoos covering their scalps work on the engines of cars and motorcycles - fixing some, stripping down others for parts.

There are about 8 Los Mags standing in the parking lot, broken up into groups of twos and threes, laughing amongst themselves - sitting on the hoods of cars or loitering about, watching the line of junkies come in. All are armed with various weapons, and not just pistols.

As Amy joins the line at the back, she sees the junkies make their way to the movie theater itself, where they have to pay for their product at the kiosk, under the watchful eye of a large ork, sporting the same tattoos as the others.

The kiosk itself has been modified - the plexiglass has been removed, and replaced with metal, the junkies pushing their money through one slot while receiving the product from another.

The line moves slowly, and Amy looks around, using her Astral vision to check the place out. She notices not a couple of Awakened in the line - their auras dim from repeated drug use. As she watches, she sees another man come out from the theater and speak to the ork. She cannot understand what he is saying, but he looks out of place. Short, skinny, maybe 165cm and 75 kilos, he has no tattoos. His brown hair is short and parted to the side, with no facial hair. His clothing looks modern and expensive, button down shirt and slacks. You notice that the ork is, if not deferential, manages to avoid looming over him, despite the size difference.

When Amy examines him Astrally, his aura shimmers - vague and unclear. As she concentrates, the aura snaps into place, and she realizes that he is a magician, and a more powerful one than she is.

As she digests this information, she can see the effects of the drug first hand. Some of the junkies have taken the drug, and seem to be having vivid hallucinations, running and yelling. One gets too close to one of the groups of Los Mags and is knocked down with the butt of a rifle. He bounces off of the ground, and is up and running again, this time in the opposite direction. The gangers laugh and point, speaking rapidly in Spanish.

Amy, Aurora Warrens, Los Mags turf, 11:35 PM, July 29th, 2075

Amy wasn't the smartest. She had never read a single book in its entirety. But she had street smarts. And right now her knowledge of the streets was kicking in. Frag this is even nastier than I imagined. If we pull something off around here, it'll have to be on our terms. I don't like my odds right now.

"All right chum, I'm on the site and I can tell this isn't the right time for trying anything. Time to buzz off actually, and we'll figure all of this drek out later." she says subvocally, trying not to attract any attention. "I'll meet you down by where I was hiding before."

As she starts sneaking away from the scene, Amy quickly gives an instruction to the spirit she had summoned earlier. "Wise one, please help me remain unnoticed for a while. Oh and avoid being detected yourself."

Once she feels the spirit's aiding her stealth, she moves away gradually from the crowd of junkies, but doesn't leave before taking a few pictures with her commlink. She tries to capture the faces of most of the gangers there, and especially that of the magician whom she's quite afraid of. Well at least I'll have scouted this place out. This info should come in handy. And if this doesn't affect our job, I'll still want to take care of this problem myself at some point.

Aurora Warrens, Just outside Los Mags turf, 11:35 PM, July 29th, 2075

Drave was just about to cross into Los Mags territory when he heard Amy's message calling it off, and breathed a sigh of relief. That could have gotten really messy, really fast.

<<@Amy: Good call, I don't want us hanging around here one minute longer than we have to. Meet me at the 7-11 on Colfax its right across from the alleyway you hid in before.>>

Drave thanked fortune for finally smiling in his direction, and waited for Amy to arrive.

Aurora Warrens, Just outside Los Mags turf, 11:45 PM, July 29th, 2075

Amy hunched over a little, coughing, and used the movement to palm her commlink. With a couple of clicks, she takes some pictures, although the distance makes the shots of the other mage's face seem like a dot on her screen. Hopefully Overkill can blow these up without losing any quality, she thinks.

She staggers behind a couple of junkies, using their bodies to shield her from the gangers, and then lets the spirit's power envelop her.

She slowly moves away from the parking lot, feeling completely naked as she walks across the open, expecting any second to have someone challenge her - but she makes it to the cover of a doorway and breathes a huge sigh of relief.

She slips out the back of an alley, cuts across the main road, and heads to meet up with Overkill at the 7-11.

"Mein Liebschen, I am glad to see you." says Overkill as he greets her.

Aurora Warrens, Just outside Los Mags turf, 11:45 PM, July 29th, 2075

Amy smiles and gives a sigh of relief when she walks up to Overkill outside the store. "I'm very glad too, my friend!" This had been more risky then it really had to be, but at least she got some useful info out of it. "Let the others know we're all right and let's meet up with them. I'm sure there's a lot to talk about. But first, bring me over to 2nd avenue, there's a cab there waiting for me and I want to pay him for the trouble."

Grease, UCAS Zone, Templeton Air Taxi Terminal, 11:45 PM, July 29th, 2075.

After collecting his things from customs and leading Jack over to his parked Taxi, Grease feels his commlink buzz with a response from Chapel. After reading it he forwards the relevant portion to the team to keep them up to date.

<<@Team [Grease]: Heard back from Chapel about Argent. See forwarded message to follow.>>

<<FWD @Team [Grease]: "@Grease [Chapel]: ...In response to your question, yes, I've dealt with Argent before. Ex-UCAS military, moved to the private sector doing merc-work down in Amazonia, and then "retired" up here. Can't seem to stop working though, guess retired life is too boring. Straight shooter, what you see is what you get. His skills are highly valued in the Zone, so his time is expensive. Did you want me to set up a meet? If so, let me know time, place, pay, etc. Take care of yourself.">>

<<@Team [Grease]: So, that should make things a bit easier. I will contact Argent and try to setup a meet; I think some financial incentive may be required, but I will try to talk him down to doing us a professional courtesy. Jack and I just landed; I think we should all meet to discuss what we've found and hash out our next plan.>>

UCAS Zone, Templeton Air Taxi Terminal, 11:45 PM, July 29th, 2075

His image link lighting up with a message from the man sitting next to him, Jack scowled a bit but quickly understood the reason for it. Scanning through the message, he said to Grease, "Argent sounds like an interesting character, whoever hit Mitchell is probably cursing their luck. I'd be happy to come along on that meet."

Approving of the suggestion of the group sitting down to go over what they had learned so far, he continued, "We're mostly Warrens rats, hombre. If you know of any dives in the sector, it would probably be a better place than anything we could come up with in the Warrens."

UCAS Zone, Templeton Air Taxi Terminal, 11:45 PM, July 29th, 2075

Grease nods with a grin.

"Yeah, I know a few places. There's a couple that don't bother checking IDs, or anything else. Might be useful to save us the hassle. Plus, the synthol is dirt cheap and aplenty. Here- let's do this one."

Grease sends over AR the location of what can charitiably be called a restaurant, "the Rusty Bar-rel". The image on the display is that of a barrel, aged to a fine quality. He forwards the location to the rest of the team messaging,

<<Let's meet here in 20.>>

Jack had been in plenty of cars going fast before, but he was unaware of what "flooring it" meant before riding someplace with Grease when he was in a hurry.

"It should take 30 minutes- we're going to have to rush." he says with a smirk.

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:15 PM, July 30th, 2075

Our intrepid band arrives within minutes of each other, Overkill and Amy on the decker's bike, Jack and Grease in the rigger's car. While Amy and Overkill were far more exposed to danger, traveling without a helmet on a motorcycle, it is Jack who feels the worse for wear. A calm exterior belied his inner horror at the way Grease drives, the only outward sign a slight indentation in the seat where his fingers gripped the leather.

They runners exit the vehicles and move to the door, checking weapons at the door. The interior of the bar is dimly lit, but the general atmosphere is friendly, even warm. The patrons are primarily locals, and Grease's alter ego is well known here.

Cries of "Hey Henry!" and "Good to see you!" and "Who's the babe?" along with some good natured catcalls come from the blue-collar crowd. Someone yells "Less Filling!" and is generally slapped around by the others at his table.

There is no dance floor, only the bar itself with booths lining the walls and free-standing tables in between. Trid sets mounted on the walls show sports highlights in seemingly endless loops, but at this time of night most people are here to drink.

Grease grabs a booth in the corner, orders a pitcher of synthbeer for the table, and after the waitress drops off the pitcher and four mugs, says "I have some ideas as to where to go next, what are yours?"

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:15 AM, July 30th, 2075

Happy to be back on his own two feet, Jack exited Grease's taxi with alacrity. The elf drove like a madman. In fact, the ork had to question his own sanity given that he just rode in a car multiple times with someone admittedly on some kind of drug, probably a serious stimulant given Grease's demeanor. Still, he had arrived in one piece and was thankful. Checking out the exterior of The Rusty Bar-rel, Jack wasn't at all surprised. He figured if anyone had a good hole in the wall to hide in, it would be Grease.

Spotting Amy and Overkill in the parking lot, the ork waved and walked over to them. "Glad to see you all in one piece," he said, particularly looking over Amy for any signs of rough handling. "I hope we learned something useful tonight." Jack said the last in a way that wasn't quite clear if it had to do with the job or life in general.

Entering the bar, Jack's low-light vision adjusted for the dim lighting. He pulled out his holdout pistol and checked it at the door. Place like this, my fists should be sufficient, he thought to himself. The bar was a far cry from the one they had been in earlier, the lack of a dance floor and pounding bass rhythms was a welcome relief.

Sliding into the booth, Jack was more than happy to accept Grease's hospitality and poured himself a mug of synthbeer. Taking a sip, the ork finally relaxed and leaned back against the wall. "Nice place," he said, clearly meaning it. At Grease's request, Jack put in his two nuyen.

"I think an obvious place to start would be Argent. Given his high-grade cybereyes, I'd be shocked if he didn't have quality cameras installed in them. If he still has a recording from that evening, we might even be able to get a visual ID on the shooters." Jack said. "At the same time, it doesn't really answer the question of why someone wanted to kill Officer Mitchell. For that, I think we might need to reach out to Emily Sanders. If they were dating, she may have noticed a change in Mitchell's behavior or he may have even confided in her whatever was going on."

"I think we also should continue working our way back through the murders. The murder prior to Mitchell's happened not too far from here. That was Officer Newton's murder. He was gunned down outside his apartment and across the street from a diner called Schaefer’s. There was also an eye-witness to the murder named Mary Jane Kelly. We've got her address, but little additional information to go on. One important thing is that we already have a link between Newton's murder and one other murder, Officer Taylor, who was gunned down during what was supposedly a routine traffic stop. The ballistic report said the same weapon was used in both murders. The odd thing with Taylor's murder is that it happened relatively far away from the other murders. If it is connected to this drug business, he may have accidentally intercepted a shipment and been murdered for it, which might point to someone shipping it across the border from outside the sector."

Jack reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a plastic wrapped shell casing. "Speaking of ballistics, we recovered this shell casing from the alley across the street from QXT in the Hub. That was the location of the ambush that killed Mitchell. It's probably a long shot, but there may be fingerprints or other information that could be pulled from this casing that could also help ID the shooters. The problem is, I'm not sure if our Johnson would be open to the request or if we should even ask him in the first place. If someone else has a law enforcement contact that they can trust, we could ask them. I'm open to suggestions." Jack rolled the wad of plastic around on the table with his finger, looking to the group as he finished up.

Activating his AR keyboard, Jack tapped out a message to Overkill on the wooden tabletop.

<<@Overkill [JustJack] Hombre, when you get a chance, can you run a search on Emily Sanders, 865 Havana Street & Mary Jane Kelly, 1621 Wabash to see if you can find any additional information?>>

Overkill, UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:15 AM, July 30th, 2075

As the two pulled into the parking lot outside The Rusty Bar-rel, Drave helped Amy off his Falke and locked it down. They then followed behind Jack and Grease into the Bar, Drave checking his guns and having a seat with them in one of the establishment's booths. He graciously accepted a mug of the synthesized beer Grease seemingly loved, not wanting to be rude, but after his first swig he cringed and motioned the waitress over to get him an import. He removed the fancy e-cig from his pocket and took a couple puffs as Jack laid out his thoughts on the job.

"I had meant to have some info on this Argent put together to present to you as soon as you had landed, but I had to make an unanticipated swing by Los Mags territory to pick up Meine Liebling," Drave said, looking over at Amy with a very relieved grin. "So I am just a bit behind schedule."

"I believe that Argent will be most valuable once we are able to set up a meet, like you said Jack, Cybereyes like those will not likely have missed the faces of the fools who shot at him. And if this Ms. Sanders can provide us with some clues regarding Officer Mitchell's final activities; we could actually start piecing together likely suspects."

"Now, looking at the other murders," Drave continued, taking the fresh import he had ordered from the waitress and sliding her 5Y tip, "We may be able to find some valuable security footage for Officer Newton's murder, the street cams are all out, but several of the buildings nearby, including Newton's own apartment building, have their own security cams. We may not find footage of the shooting itself, but perhaps it may have caught an image of the shooters fleeing the scene, or other possible witnesses we don't know about. The fact that the ballistics for Newton's murder matches those in the Officer Taylor shooting, shows clearly that his hit had nothing to do with the "routine" traffic stop. Lone Star should know this as well as we do; their lack of initiative in dealing with an apparent serial cop-killer does lend to the theory of a conspiracy within the Department."

Drave then noticed the shell casing that Jack had pulled. "You found that in the alleyway across from QXT? Strange, you see far fewer cased rounds these days, particularly from professionals who don't like to leave tasty pieces of evidence like that behind. Perhaps those shells match one of the Super Warhawks recovered in the bust by Officer Newton?"

As he said that, Drave noticed the message from Jack that had popped up in his AR.

<<@Jack: "I am already warming up my Blitzdrive, Meine Freund; I will be conducting searches on Ms. Emily Sanders, Ms. Mary Jane Kelly, and herr Argent. We shall see what there is to find.">>

As he started to prepare the search programs on his deck, he turned to Amy asking, "So what did you hear from Chomsky, Meine Liebling? Did he know anything on the Crimson Fire or the recent string of ODs throughout the Warrens?"

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:15 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy gets off the bike and makes her way through the crowded bar, ignoring the leering looks and the shouts coming her way. She really didn't like places like this very much, in good part because of the kind of patrons you find in them. Sitting in the booth reserved by Grease, she politely declines the drink.

When her time to speak comes up, she shares what she has gathered that evening. "I met with my friend Chomsky, but he didn't have much to say. He knew the name of the drug that is causing death to many addicts in the Warrens, Crimson Fire, but little else. I then decided to find out more about this drug, and attempt to acquire it. It led me to Los Mags territory, where, if you go deep enough, you can find their distribution hub for Fire. They're pills that cause strong hallucinations, and make people run around like crazy, as if they'd had 3 liters of soycaf. It's truly pitiful to watch."

She pauses, remembering the horror of those poor junkies lining up only to receive a drug that is likely to kill them. "I couldn't get close enough to the pills myself, so I dunno if they're the same as those that were confiscated, but there are ways to find out. I also managed to take a few pictures at the scene. I thought that perhaps Overkill could help us enhance their quality so that we can zoom in on some of the faces." Amy produces her commlink and proceeds to forward to the group all the pictures she has taken.

"I think there's a good chance that what they are doing is related to our investigation. There was a man there, which I hope we'll be able to see well enough on the pictures, who wasn't a Los Mag himself, yet he appeared to be in charge. He had none of the gang tattoos, and he was far too advanced in the ways of magic just to be a regular ganger shaman. He also seemed to reign over the operation and it felt like he was out of place somehow."

She takes a deep breath. "So yeah, I know you all thought I took a big risk tonight, but at least I got us this lead, which I think is worth pursuing. By the way, I have the magical means to locate any person we might think is of interest tonight. I thought if we have no better idea, we could try to locate one of the junkies from the pictures.. with some luck he'll be awake enough to identify our pills as Crimson Fire or not."

Looking at each of them, she asks "What do you guys think?"

Overkill, UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:18 AM, July 30th, 2075

Drave looked at the pictures Amy had taken of the Crimson Fire distribution operation, the quality was decent enough and he thought he should be able to get some good headshots from them.

"Well, Meine Liebschen, it certainly was a risk to go into Los Mags territory alone at this time of night. But I must say you handled yourself remarkably well," Drave said with pride in his voice. "You found the hub for the Crimson Fire and managed to get some good shots of what could be the mastermind of the operation."

"In the future just remember to calculate the risks you take," Drave added with concern. "This info could have waited until we had returned from the Hub, then you wouldn't have had to walk into Los Mags territory alone without someone to back you up."

He took a long drink before continuing, letting his words sink in a bit, then gave Amy a reassuring smile, "But fortunately there was no harm done. As far as tonight; I believe we should start fresh tomorrow to continue our investigation. I can conduct the searches on Argent, Ms. Kelly, and Ms. Sanders when I return home and bring the info with me in the morning."

Drave straightened up a bit before continuing, his look growing very serious. "I must also accept responsibility for the unexpected intrusion Lone Star made to the club during our investigation there. The encryption I encountered in the Host's security footage was much stronger than I had anticipated, and it took me several attempts to break it. Unfortunately by that time the Host had deployed several IC programs I had to fend off, and one of them managed to land a Trace program on me before I could jack out. Regardless of the factors, the fault was mine, and I must apologize for putting you and our job at risk."

The shame was evident on Drave's face as he admitted his error, and he ordered another drink while waiting for his colleagues reactions.

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:18 AM, July 30th, 2075

Jack glanced at Grease for a second and then said to Overkill, "Look hombre, we all make mistakes. No one's expecting perfection here. You managed to get us the video feed that let us verify Paul's story and no one ended up the worse for wear. Don't be too hard on yourself." Shifting his glance to Amy, he continued, "... and of course we're going to be a little worried. Sure, you know more about surviving in the Warrens than the three of us put together, but those fraggers are crazy. You took a risk tonight... but it paid off. Good job."

Rubbing his forehead, Jack continued, "We're all adults here, so no one needs to be busting anyone's cojones too much. But also remember that we're working together now. If any one of us decides to play vaquero and screws up, there's a good chance that the rest of us are going to suffer the fallout. So let's try and remember to work together rather than individually."

Turning to Grease, Jack finished, "You've heard our ideas, what do you have?"

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:18 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy is shy and apologetic after being gently scolded. "I just wanted to show you that I am resourceful too, that I could contribute to tonight's effort. I've learned my lesson though, you don't have to worry."

And then she turns to Grease to hear what he has to say.

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:18 AM, July 30th, 2075

Listening carefully to the rest of the group, Grease nods along.

"Well, I think we know what we'd like to do. I think running to ground this Argent connection is a priority."

He pauses to take a swig of his beer, and nod to a new person entering the bar with a smile.

"However, I don't want us to focus too much on one of the murders. Ramirez thinks there's a conspiracy; that means there should be a connection between all the murders. We think it's the pills, but it could be anything."

He hesitates before continuing. "I think we can reach out to Argent before we finish our research on him. I'd like the information before we actually see him, but if we're just setting up a meet then I think it's alright to contact him and start the process. I can handle the actual contact. Other than that though; what do we want to do next?"

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:20 AM, July 30th, 2075

Jack took a long pull from his mug, the cheap synthbeer cooling his mouth and throat. "I think meeting Argent and tracking down leads in the Mitchell case are our top priorities. I agree with you that we shouldn't spend too much time on one particular case, but this one is the most recent, so it probably has the freshest leads. If all of these murders are connected, it might help us figure out what we need to look for in the other, older murders. If we can collect any evidence from this shell casing, we might be able to tie Mitchell's murder to some of the others, which certainly helps fill in the numbers on the conspiracy picture. We have to remember that the end game here is to bring the murderers and the conspirators to justice. While the ZDF loves to bust balls, we're going to need to build a solid case to see justice done... and get paid well."

Jack called up the notes he had taken of the various crimes they were investigating, trying to figure out a pattern or connection that wasn't obvious. "Alright, so what I am working with here is to ask someone to see if there is any usable evidence on this shell casing. Unless anyone else has a better contact, I'm going to see if Mr. Johnson will do it. I'll shoot him a message using the burner comm he gave us. You've got that comm, right Overkill?"

"While I think its probably an important part of the conspiracy, we don't really have anything that clearly links the pills we have with Crimson Fire or Crimson Fire to the murders. Grease, didn't you have a contact you were going to follow up with on that? I'll be happy to go with you if it requires a face-to-face meet. Amy, do you have that bag of pills on you? Can you pass it to me under the table?" Jack slipped his hands under the table waiting for the hand-off.

Yawning, Jack finished, "Finally, I'm going to grab some shut-eye. If Overkill can locate a commcode or a work address that's easily accessible for Sanders, I'd like to try to run her down tomorrow. Anyone is welcome to come along, I don't imagine there is going to be much danger involved."

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:20 AM, July 30th, 2075

Grease nods at Jack, "Yes; I sent a message to my contact. I haven't heard back from him. Might be he doesn't want to see me, maybe he just doesn't know anything." He hesitates before continuing. "I have another contact who may be able to help on the shell casing... But, I don't know. If this conspiracy is as bad as Mr. Johnson thinks, he may not want us involving other Lone Star personnel who might be caught up in it."

Grease starts to add something else, but then changes the subject. Does Greeley have anything to do with this?...

"I might as well message Argent now; he could be a night owl like ourselves; it goes with the business. If we don't hear back by this time tomorrow night he probably either isn't interested in seeing us, or has gone to ground."

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:20 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy nods. "Yeah, I still got 'hem, here you go Jack."

After Grease and Jack talk as though the pills weren't important, she can't help herself. "The pills have something to do with the whole thing, I'm telling you! I've been following conspiracies that take place in corps and gov's since I was a child, and let me say this: the pills have something to do with it. Gangs are deniable assets in the same way that shadowrunners are, just with a different skillset. They are great at keeping prying eyes out, and for the distribution of unpleasantness. They work in the shadows, within the SINless, where no one cares what happens. Gangs working for corps to distribute and test a new drug, and in the process it kills Warren dwellers that everyone is going to ignore, that sounds like a typical conspiracy to me. Hell if I wasn't paid to get to the bottom of this, I might go after them myself." Amy is visibly passionate about the topic. She looks around at the others, trying to see if they understand how important this is.

"Of course, we should investigate the details of each murder, and link them together. But if we look at the big picture from the start, we might also make progress that way. I'm telling you, the damn magician I saw with the Los Mags is part of it. We should go after him before they have a chance to expect it."

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:20 AM, July 30th, 2075

"Good call, Grease. Better I just contact the Johnson." Jack said. Opening his mouth to ask Overkill about the burner comm, Jack closed it at Amy's outburst.

Holding his hands up in a calming gesture, the ork tried to reason with the young shaman. "I think you're absolutely right. All of that makes perfect sense to me... but we have to follow the evidence. Assuming the stuff in this bag is Crimson Fire, that goes a long way to possibly linking the Los Mags to two of the murders. Considering the majority of the officers killed were working smuggling interdiction or gangs, I would bet nuyen to NERPS on you being totally correct that the Los Mags are at the top of the list of conspiracy suspects. But we can't just go in guns blazing without having a better idea of the players involved, especially if this guy is as dangerous as you think he is. We're going to get to the bottom of the Crimson Fire deal as part of this, don't worry about that..."

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:22 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy pouts a little. "Well I worry, but all right." Her attitude reminds everyone of how young and inexperienced she is to be in this line of business.

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:22 AM, July 30th, 2075

Listening to Jack and Amy go back and forth, Grease starts composing a message to Argent, setting up a meet.

<<@Argent [Grease]: Hello- you don't know me, but I and my business partners are interested in meeting with you. If you want to check me out, I work with a fixer named Chapel, who said he was familiar with you or people you know. There was a shooting outside QXT the other night and we'd like to know what you saw. We are working for the family of the victim you helped, so any information you have we would like to hear to try and bring his killers to justice. If this seems like something you would be interested in please feel free to contact me at this commcode. Otherwise, have a good life chummer.>>

Grease BCC's the rest of the team on the message before sending it out so they each get a copy, and presses send.

<<@Sling [Grease]: Hey- I heard that new pill was called "Crimson Fire". Ever heard of it?>>

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:23 AM, July 30th, 2075

Overkill reached into his coat and pulled out the burner cell Ramirez had provided and handed it to Jack. The ork opened up the address book and selected the only number listed. Figuring Ramirez would know who was sending the message, Jack composed a message without any preamble or names.

<<@MrJ [Nemo] Forgive the time, but we're on the job. Turned up a few things at the incident in the Hub. If we're lucky, we may even have pics. Recovered a shell casing, anything you can do with it to figure out the owner?>>

Completing the message, Jack slid the commlink back to Overkill for safe keeping.

Overkill, UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:22 AM, July 30th, 2075

Drave pulled out the comm given to them by Captain Ramirez, handing over to Jack as he listened to Amy's theories. They seemed logical to him, and he agreed with her on most points, save charging back into Los Mag territory to find this potentially very dangerous Mage.

"Don't worry Amy," Drave said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will find out who that man is, but he is just one cog in the machine. When we find who he is working with, and the machine they have built, we need to be able to prove they built it, and the damage their machine has done." He then smiled at her before finishing. "Once we can do that; we break the machine, and bring them all down."

He then glanced back up and at the group as whole, saying, "Well Meine Freunde, I am going to return to my apartment and conduct those searches before I schlafen. Let us reconvene at the coffee shop on Tower Rd. south of Mississippi Avenue in the morning around 9 AM."

Drave then looked back at Amy saying, "Would you care for a ride back to your apartment, Meine Liebling?"

UCAS Zone, The Rusty Bar-rel, 12:23 AM, July 30th, 2075

"Sounds good to me. I left a magazine for my Streetline at your apartment, Overkill. Can you bring it with you tomorrow? Just be careful, it's a little... uh, hot." Jack finished the last drops of his synthbeer and slid the mug next to the now-empty pitcher. "Hey Grease, is there a cab service out here that would drop someone off in the Warrens?"

Grease glanced over at Jack, brushed an imaginary bit of lint off his shoulder, and replied, "You're looking at it. I'll give you a ride pal, only 25 .

"Null sheen," Jack replied. "Just show me where to slot it."

Aurora Warrens, Nic's Knacks, 12:50 AM, July 30th, 2075

As Grease sped away, Jack watched the taillights of his taxi fade into the distance. Not wanting to stay outside in the Warrens for too long at night, the ork quickly moved to the door to the building and let himself in, the shabby maglock accepting the biometric scan of his finger readily. Nic was resting in another recycled Barcalounger, this one troll sized, while a late night trid played on a decade old set, the image fading in and out as the pirated signal attenuated.

"Late night, huh?" Nic said, "This new job's keeping you busy." Were Jack a betting man, he would have guessed that Nic had set his cyberear's select sound filter to pick up the sound of the maglock cycling and alert him. The troll always had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Jack walked over to the door leading into his tiny room and leaned against the wall. If there was one thing he had learned in his few months in the Warrens, it was that he could confide in Nic. "Yeah, it's an interesting gig, hombre. Apparently, a bunch of cops are turning up dead and no one on the force seems to be doing much about it. The Blue Line apparently still means something to some people, because we've been asked to help out with it. The investigation's been interesting, looks like it may involve those drek heads we ran into earlier today, the Los Magnificos and some drug they're pushing called Crimson Fire. Our other lead right now is someone named Argent who may have witnessed one of the murders." Yawning, Jack finished, "Anyway, I got to catch some shut-eye. I've got a pretty early day tomorrow. Night Nic"

Jack closed the door to his tiny room behind him, a single bare bulb the only source of light. He pulled out his Streetline Special from his jacket's concealed holster and hid it under his pillow. He slipped his shoes off and dropped them in the closet then removed his jacket and pants and hung them up next to an old beaten black armor jacket, figuring he was probably going to be wearing the same suit the next day. He put a reminder on his commlink to stop at a store to purchase a few extra sets of clothes now that he had a bit of cash, maybe even pick up an armor vest given how fragging hot the days had been lately. He took off his shirt and balled it up for the laundromat. As much as he had sweat in the damn thing, there was no way he was wearing that one tomorrow. After the rest of his gear was stowed, he finally slipped under his covers and went to sleep.

Amy's Apartment, UCAS Zone, 1:00 AM, July 30th, 2075

Overkill and Amy didn't talk much on the drive home. The elf decker had set up the radio to play smooth jazz and it gave the ride a very calming atmosphere. The Warrens weren't very well lit and he had to put a lot of attention on the road anyway. He knew how to navigate to avoid the worse sectors and delivered Amy to her building without incident. His good night included a few words in German as usual. "What does Meine Liebling mean? I've meant to ask you this for a while." "It just means 'my dear', my dear friend," Overkill answers with a smile. Amy smiles back at him, satisfied with the answer, and walks away.

Inside, she finds Kevin in the same exact spot he had seen him earlier. "Hey, you awake Kev?" No answer. I'll see how he's doing tomorrow morning. This better not become a habit, he needs to be able to snap out of it, at least when he's supposedly taking care of Sam. The shaman slipped into her bed, which was just next to her adopted daughter, and almost forgot to dismiss the owl-spirit before falling asleep. "Thank you for your services tonight, wise one. Peace be with you."

Overkill's Apartment, UCAS Zone, 1:06 AM, July 30th, 2075


After dropping Amy of at her apartment, Drave returned to his own place of residence, he lived in an old warehouse that someone had illegaly turned into loft housing. His loft was in the basement, down a cargo elevator, one large enough to bring his BMW Falke down with him. It wasn't a very big space, but he managed to keep it pretty tidy. He had few possessions, an ancient cd collection with old techno bands from the turn of the millennia, names like VnV Nation, Wolfsheim, And One; nobody that anyone has probably heard of in decades. There is a small workstation in the corner covered with decking supplies, the only place that apparently isn't well-organized, but Drave would tell you otherwise. Everything was right where he left it; tracers, jammers, comms, RFID tags, even Oppenheimer, the small black cat who wandered into his apartment shortly after moving into the Warrens, was resting peacefully in the chair in front of the workstation.

Upon hearing Drave enter, Oppenheimer jumped up from the chair and weaved between Drave's legs in his signature figure 8, looking up at him eagerly. He decided to oblige his feline friend, sitting in the armchair in the living room, and producing the Fliegegheimagent (FlySpy) from his pocket. He pulled up his AR overlay and selected an item from its drop down menu, "Oppenheimer Evasion Program 3", and watch as the Fliegegeheimagent began flying around the room, weaving low to the ground to entice the cat's attention. Oppenheimer knew what was coming, and gleefully took to the chase.

Drave watched Oppenheimer's pursuit of the Fliegegeheimagent, always pleased that something so simple could bring the creature such joy. Must be nice. He then looked over to the workstation Oppenheimer had been sleeping at. He sighed and knew if he wanted to get any rest tonight, he had some work to do. Leaving the cat to his hunt, Drave walked over to the workstation and prepped his Proteus-AG Blitzfurhen Cyberdeck to conduct searches on Argent, Mary Jane Kelly, and Emily Sanders. "Well Oppenheimer," Drave said to the thoroughly distracted cat, "lets see what we can discover." Drave then slipped out of the real world into the hyper-reality of VR in the Matrix.

Aurora Warrens, 12:50 AM, July 30th, 2075

After dropping Jack off at his apartment, Grease floors it back towards his neck of the woods. he skirts around a number of low-lifes and other undersirables, making sure to give most dark alleys a wide berth.

I wonder if I can take my Beemer down here? I may need to arrange a taxi shuttle to get my team out of this cess pool.

Eventually getting back to his own place in Montebello, Grease parks the taxi in the garage, and puts his drones away in their appropriate storage units. "Good boy, good boy.." he says as the doberman shudders and makes it's way to it's nook.

Around 1:30 a text comes through his commcode, which Grease quickly scans. He pens his own response to the team before changing out of his suit and into his work clothes.

<<@Team [Grease]: See you all at the coffee shop at 9. Heard back from Argent; he wants to meet at the Rising Sun Casino at noon. Let's hash out our plan in the morning.>>

<<@Jack [Grease]: I can send the cab to pick you up in the morning, if you like- no charge.>>

Sending the message, he decides that he doesn't like the way his BMW has been shifting between 3rd and 4th. Still tweaked on the novacoke from earlier, he loads up some AC/DC classic vinyl on his commlink and starts fiddling underneath his prized possession.

Aurora Warrens, Nic's Knacks, 7:30 AM, July 30th, 2075

The commlink on the window sill beeped incessantly as the alarm activated at 0730. Jack shook his head groggily and woke up. Grabbing the commlink off the sill, he checked the device for messages and noticed a text from Grease. Appreciating the gesture, Jack typed back a quick reply.

<<@Grease [JustJack] That would be most appreciated, hombre. I'll be waiting outside at 0830>>

The message sent, the ork got out of bed and headed for the shower, grateful that Nic paid enough in bribes that their ration period generally coincided with daylight hours rather than something stupid like 0000 to 0600. Washing up, Jack dried off and took care of his morning routine. Given how quickly his facial hair grew, he grabbed his electric razor and shaved his face clean, knowing he'd still have a 5 o'clock shadow by 1500. Moving over to his closet, he selected a clean undershirt and light purple button-up shirt. Given the continued heat, Jack chose to go without tie again today. Grabbing his Actioneer Business Suit, he donned pants and jacket, tucking his Streetline Special into the holster tailored into the jacket. Putting on his brown wing-tip shoes and horn-rim glasses, Jack checked himself out in the mirror and gave himself a thumb's up.

Stepping into the main room of the shop, Jack noticed that Nic hadn't appeared to have woken up yet. The troll had been awake late last night waiting for him and was probably sleeping in. Heading over to the SoyFactory3000, a 5 year old model Nic had liberated from somewhere, Jack selected a soy cube and programmed the machine to inject it with a chocolate doughnut flavor. While the machine grunted along while it worked, the ork called up the morning edition of the Denver Tribune to see what was going on. "Purity, huh? I'll give those fraggers a pure fist to the face if I ever see them. Drekheads..." the ork groused. Coming to the article about the Sioux-UCAS talks, Jack paused. That could mean something. Most of the officers in our investigation were killed near and worked close to the Sioux border. On top of that, a few were involved in smuggling interdiction, so they'd be directly involved in fighting attempts to get past this tariff issue. I wonder which Sioux companies are hurting the most from this...

The machine chimed indicating Jack's soy-based breakfast was done. Grabbing the hot cube, he left the shop, locking up behind him. Grease's taxi was waiting for him outside. Walking over to the passenger side, Jack noticed that Grease wasn't inside and figured he must have either put it on autopilot or was controlling it remotely. Jack hoped for the former, as he really didn't want to know what kind of risks Grease would take with a car that he himself was not physically inside. Settling into the cab, Jack said, "Corner of Tower Road and Mississippi Avenue. Uh, gracias and por favor?" The cab beeped in understanding and shot off through the Warrens towards its destination.

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 8:45 AM, July 30th, 2075

Even without Grease driving, the cab's pilot program must have adapted itself somewhat to its owners behavior. Arriving at the intersection in a lot less time than he anticipated, Jack exited the vehicle, instructing the cab to find some place to park itself. Spotting the coffee shop Overkill had suggested, the ork entered and headed to the counter. Ordering a basic black soykaf, he paid, collected his order, and grabbed a sufficiently secluded table that would allow the group to converse without much fear of being overheard.

GEAR

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 8:57 AM, July 30th, 2075

Grease wanders into the coffee shop looking significantly worse for the wear. His glasses are tinted entirely black, and seems to have lost most of his vocabulary. Restricting himself to efficient monosyllabic commands, he gruffly orders "Soykaf. Black." before sliding into a corner of the booth.

Removing his glasses and rubbing his bloodshot eyes, Grease asks, "So, where are we?"

GEAR

Overkill, Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:00 AM, July 30th, 2075


Drave strode into Joe's Cup of Soy at precisely 9 AM, reading today's edition of the Denver Tribune. He was rereading the first article as he sat in the booth along with the crew.

"Guten Morgen Meine Freunde, did you happen to read the Tribune this morning? I love it when racists qualify their bigotry with such masterfully crafted PR statements regarding equality," he said sarcastically.

Turning the newspaper off in his AR, he motioned to the waitress that he would like his usual double caf soylatte before turning his attention back to the crew.

"Now, where to begin. I received a response from Captain Ramirez, I didn't want to forward it directly off the burned commlink, so I retyped it manually," he said as he sent them all a copy of the message.

<<@Nemo[Johnson] Glad to hear you are making progress. In answer to your question, it depends. If there are fingerprints, I can try and run it. If the weapon has been used in the commission of a crime, and we have seen shell casings like this before, then yes, we can match the casing to the gun. Are you at a dead end with regards to the investigation? I'd like to avoid using our databases unless absolutely necessary.>>

"I conducted searches on Emily Sanders and Mary Jane Kelly, basic civilian profiles, nothing flashy there. Ms. Sanders is a secretary for an accounting firm in the CAS zone; Ms. Kelly is a customer service rep for a publishing company. I have both of their home addresses. Also, my searches confirmed that Argent is most definitely a Shadowrunner, at least it seems that way with ads looking for work under the "bodyguard/enforcer/wetwork" categories. But I will let you judge for yourselves." Drave sent over the files from last nights searches to the rest of the team.

"Now I suppose the really tricky question is where do we start?"

Gear:

Amy, Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:00 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy left Sam with Kevin again this morning, but this time he seemed a lot more alert. He said he'd take good care of her and show her how to build a toaster. While Amy had no clue what that was, Sam seemed very excited to learn about this, she always liked toying around with Kevin. Amy couldn't really understand most of it, and got bored really easily with that kind of stuff, but for the kids it was all fun and games. Outside, she waited for her turn to take Grease's and went on her way.

Once at the coffee shop, Amy gets herself a cup of soycaf before sitting down with the team. In answer to Overkill, she proposes one option "Well, we could try to completely solve that murder at the hub, that would be a really good start. There's the pills that we still need to confirm that they are indeed Crimson Fire. And there's still that Twoman in prison, would be nice to know who he is and how come he had the drugs."

When she gets a chance, she also adds "Apart from that, I have to admit I'm not yet fully equipped for this kind of job just yet. One thing that would be really useful, as I found out yesterday and it's come up again this morning with these files that I should look at, is AR glasses, or even better, contacts. I have enough money to pay for that now that we got an advance, but I don't know where to look. Jack, maybe you'd know? Would probably be good to also have masks or stuff to disguise ourselves, no? We're 'criminals' after all." She clearly has much disdain for that word.

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:00 AM, July 30th, 2075

Nodding good morning to each of his compatriots, Jack said to Amy, "Funny you should mention that..." Turning to the group, he continued, "I'm checking with an acquaintance who works in procurement to see if she could secure an item or two for me. If anyone would like to put in a request, just let me know. So far I've got a request for one pair of AR contacts."

Resting his commlink on the table, Jack called up the AR keyboard and began typing a note to Honeypot. While he waited for any others to chime in, the ork continued, "Alright, since we still have leads we can follow up on in the Mitchell case, let's hold off on having Johnson do forensics on the shell casing. We know we can always ask if we have to, but better to wait until it is absolutely necessary. Overkill, please let Mr. Johnson know we still have other leads to follow up."

Looking at Grease, the ork said, "Grease, good jo- hombre, I gotta say, you look like drek. Sorry. Anyway, good job on getting a hold of Argent. Looks like the Casino is in the Hub, so you're out Amy. That's not a total loss though. A guy like Argent may not even meet if four of us showed up to see him. I think no more than two of us should go. Since you contacted him Grease, you're obviously numero uno. Just based on dress, I think I probably would fit in best with you, but I'm willing to hang back if Overkill would rather go."

"While Grease and whoever else are at the Casino, what will the other two be doing? We have a few leads to follow up on: the drugs, Emily Sanders, Mary Kelly, and Twoman. Of the four, Kelly is probably going to be the easiest and safest to follow up on at the moment. She lives and works in the UCAS sector, unlike Sanders who hangs her hat in the CAS. She also may open up a new line for us since we don't know anything about the incident she witnessed.

Taking a sip of his soykaf, Jack continued, "I also think Twoman is someone we really need to try to contact. He can confirm that the drugs are indeed Crimson Fire and may shed some light on the Los Mags connection to the conspiracy. Given our mutual ancestry, I might even be able to pull off an adequate Los Mags ganger with the right fake tattoo if we want to send someone in to try and talk to him. To do that though, we have to get on his visitor list, which means Overkill is going to have to do some work."

"Anyway, in addition to trying to find Kelly, the other group might best be served if they swung by a clothing store and did a little shopping." Pausing for a moment, Jack looked at Amy, "I think you're right that we need something to disguise ourselves a bit. Masks may be a little much, we don't really need anything fancy, but enough of a variety of clothing for all of us to not appear out of place in a number of different situations. Caps, jeans, shorts, khaki trousers, plain T-shirts, short sleeve collared shirts, stuff like that. A thrift store would actually work great for what we want and it shouldn't cost a bundle of nuyen either."

Overkill, Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:02 AM, July 30th, 2075

Drave listened as the crew discussed the various routes they might take with their investigation that day. Jack was right, Grease looked like we had just gone 12 rounds against a cybernetically enhanced Troll, and Drave zoomed in curiously on Grease's bloodshot eyes with his Vision Mag.

"Even though I had such a splendid time on our last journey over to the Hub, I believe I will stay behind on this one. I trust that two Kandidats like yourselves will ask herr Argent all the necessary questions. Amy and I can start working here; Ms. Kelly is local, she won't be hard to for us to find. I would also like to take a look at Officer Newton's Apartments, see what the building's security cams may have caught the night of his shooting."

He looked over at Jack, "Think that supplier of yours would be able to come by an armor vest? The weather makes my regular armor a touch too indiscreet. Amy may want to consider getting one as well, that old jacket of yours has always been a bit warm for you in the Summer, Meine Liebling."

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:02 AM, July 30th, 2075

Draining his 3rd cup of Soykaf in as many minutes, Grease begins to look metahuman again. You're not sure what the phrase "rode hard and put to bed wet" means, but you're fairly certain it's applicable in this situation. He nods along with eyes squinted closed to everyone's ideas, making sure to show he's reading the conversation and not catching up on his beauty rest.

"Right.. Right. Well, I could probably use a vest as well. I've got some older clothes back at my place, It might make sense to try to blend in a bit more if we're going to be working in the warrens. I look like a bit of a Goomba sitting here in this suit."

The waitress refills his cup and within moments he empties it's contents again. "So it's settled that we're meeting Argent; I'm fine with Jack and I going if Amy can't." Thumbing through the AR display of the information Overkill found, Grease nods, impressed. "This is a great profile; we can really work with this. I'm going to send Chapel the money now; Argent wanted 200 to meet with us. Are there any questions in particular either of you would want to make sure we ask him? And has anyone been to this Casino before?"

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:05 AM, July 30th, 2075

As the requests were made, Jack added them to his message to Honeypot. In response to Grease's question about the Casino, Jack simply shrugged and said, "Maybe? To be honest, I don't know if I have or not, but it does ring a few bell. It's where the old Hilton used to be downtown. Security is tight as you'd expect for a casino, even more so since the Wakenda Yaks are rumored to be involved. Strangest thing is that Renraku provided most of the financing through a complex series of bundled derivatives and mortgage debt swaps, even used a fairly complex shell company structure to do it." Jack calmly sipped his soykaf as he met his compatriots' incredulous looks. with one of his own. "What? I don't know either..."

With it sounding like consensus had been reached, the ork said, "Alright, so it sounds like we're settled on our plans for the morning. If my connection can come through, the gear's going to be delivered to Nic's Knacks, the shop that doubles as my doss in the Warrens. I figure our trip to the Hub is going to take us the morning and early afternoon, maybe even longer if Argent provides us with other potential leads. Travelling back and forth is getting expensive, so I'd rather knock out any other leads in the Hub while we're there."

Jack downed the last dregs of his soykaf and scrubbed at the rings left behind with a paper napkin. Leaning over to Overkill, he said, "If you brought that magazine with you, I'll take it now. Thanks for letting me stash it at your place."

Aurora Warrens, Joe's Cup of Soy, 9:05 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy agrees with the consensus. "Sounds like we have a plan. I'll stay behind with Overkill, buy some extra clothes for everyone and find Mary Jane." This business is great. I'm getting paid to buy new clothes!

About the armor vest, she couldn't resist, "An armor vest sounds like a great investment. I'll take one! Oh and I'd still like a mask that looks realistic for myself, if that's okay. Just in case."

And in answer to Grease. "I don't know what to ask Argent other than what did he see. I guess you can always see if he's personally interested in taking revenge on the killer, but that's not so great if we want him alive."

The Rising Sun Casino, The Hub, 11:25 AM

After finishing their discussions over breakfast, Overkill and Amy took their leave of the coffee shop. Jack and Grease watched them leave, Grease sagging slightly due to the effects the Novacoke was wreaking on his system.

"Just give me a little more time, and a few more cups of soykaf, and we'll get going." he said, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Over the next hour or so, Grease seemed to recover, and putting picking up their things, the duo paid the check and went to the cab.

A quick drive brought them to the airport, where Jack stashed his mag in the glove compartment, and the two passed through security, each with a minimum of fuss. Arriving at Union Station at 11:10, they collected their things, and this time caught a quick ride to the station, the heat of the late morning sun starting to become uncomfortable.

They arrived outside the Rising Sun, the building towering over them, the AR a mixture of modern and feudal Japanese architecture and art. The cab parked in front, letting the two out into the crush of foot traffic down the sidewalk, tourists and sararirmen bustling by, rubbing shoulders with one another.

Negotiating their way through the press, they make it to the main entrance, entering a lavish lobby the size of most football fields. Security is in evidence all around them, uniformed guards, drones, cameras, although no one comes to pat them down. A huge double staircase runs up each side of the room, with a balcony overhanging the middle, while a main corridor exist the lobby on the other side. In the middle of it all is a Koi pond, stocked with rare and exotic specimens of the Japanese fish.

The Rising Sun Casino, The Hub, 11:25 AM

Jack stared at the oppulence. Nice place, he thought, images of the Warrens running through his head. Glancing out of the corner of his eye at Grease, the ork couldn't help but be impressed by the quick turnaround. The elf had looked like absolute drek this morning when he showed up at Joe's Cup of Soy. Now, he looked almost refreshed. Gregarious and even a bit charming, Jack hadn't even met this side of Grease before, so he had high hopes for the meet today.

Entering the Lobby with the elf, Jack said, "So what's the play? Our guy give us a place to meet him? I'll go grab us some chips if we need to gamble a bit before he gets here. Otherwise, that balcony looks like a good place to watch for his arrival. Just let me know."

GEAR

1621 Wabash, 10:15 AM, UCAS Zone

Overkill and Amy left the coffee place, and after a quick 15 minute trip outside the Warrens, stopped at a local clothing outlet. While Overkill moved through the clothing store efficiently picking out clothing for the rest of the team, Amy moved a little more slowly, a small smile on her face as she picked up fabrics that she normally never got to wear. Picking out a couple of nice outfits, she followed Overkill to the register and let him pay.

Stashing the clothing in the saddlebags of the bike, they zipped across town to Mary Kelly's house. Arriving outside, they dismount look around. It is a quiet residential neighborhood, looking like the houses dated back about 70-80 years.

Mary's house was a ranch, and while it was apparent she took care of the exterior of the house, the yard showed less care, the grass long and ragged, and the tips starting to brown in the heat.

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:25 AM, July 30th, 2075

Scoping out the Casino lobby, it is mostly empty this early- but not entirely. People mill about inside, a combination of degenerate gamblers, early-rising elderly, and tourists killing time before lunch.

<<@Jack [Grease]: This place is locked up tighter than a Dragon's wallet. I don't blame Argent for picking it; it's about as safe a place to meet as you could hope for. I'd wager they have a fairly good idea of every piece of ware we've got on us, legal and illegal. I think we play nice, they won't give us trouble. I imagine they're willing to let almost anything through the door they think they can handle if it's got cred on it.>>

Turning to face Jack, Grease comments outloud, "He just said the lobby. Could be he's already here, watching for us- that's what I'd do. Let's let him sniff us out, take a look so he doesn't get spooked off. That Koi pond over there looks fascinating; let's go examine it for the next 20 minutes. We let him approach us, the meeting is on his terms; all we want is to make sure he's comfortable so he isn't cagey when we ask him questions."

<<@Team [Grease]: At the Casino; no sign of Argent yet. Will let you know what we find out.>>

Grease saunters over to the Koi pond, showing real delight as he examines the exotic fish, making sure to point out a few especially interesting ones to Jack as they wander around the exterior of the pond.

GEAR:

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:55 AM, July 30th, 2075

Grease and Jack spend half an hour in the lobby watching the fish and chatting amongst themselves, while at the same time keeping an eye out for and nosy guards or their contact.

As they wait, the guards continue their rounds, and the clientele continues to wander inside. At 11:45, Argent enters the room through the main doors, and walks towards them. He is dressed in a light blue button up shirt, the sleeve's rolled up due to the heat, stretching to wrap around his biceps. His light khaki pants come down over expensive shoes, and wraparound mirror shades cover his eyes.

As he walks through the room, he glances once at a security guard, and then toward the pond, and when he takes a seat he is across from Jack and Grease, a distance of about 3 feet between them. He pulls up an A/R copy of the Tribune and turns to the crosswords.

"Gentlemen. This is your dime. What is the situation?"

While at the store, Amy spent some time looking for that special dress. She's always thought those were useless and only rich dumb people wore them, but at the same time there was a little princess inside her, like in most girls, and so she found a beautiful black and white dress that suited her while she was at it. Something sexy like she's never owned before, and she was looking forward to wearing it some place nice. It'll be just like in the movies..

1621 Wabash, 10:15 AM, UCAS Zone

Amy and Overkill arrive near Mary's house. Amy is now dressed appropriately for that neighborhood, wearing pants, of all things. "So how should we approach this? We just knock on her door?"

Overkill, 1621 Wabash, 10:15 AM, UCAS Zone

"Precisely, Meine Liebling," Drave answered with a smile. "We knock. We are not cops, cops make people in these parts nervous, they know better than to talk to them about something like this; people get killed for doing that. We are Private Investigators, hired by the family of Officer Newton to investigate the shooting. I have found over the years that a most people who witness something traumatic like this want to tell their story, and they like to think they are helping find justice for the victim and their family. Being a couple PIs sent by the family helps people believe that. And when you break it down, its essentially true. Being part PI is all part of the job when it comes to Shadowrunning."

After saying that, Drave led the way up to the door, and proceeded to knock.

Amy and Overkill, 1621 Wabash, 10:15 AM, UCAS Zone

Overkill and Amy walk up the sidewalk past the mailbox to the door. Trying to look like they belonged there, Overkill knocked. A minute passed with no answer. Overkill rang the doorbell this time, and again waited.

Amy was looking around the street, using both her normal and Astral sight. It was amazing how healthy the Astral looked here, filled with blues and greens and yellows swirling through the sky, and how unlike her own neighborhood with its reds and blacks and purples.

Traffic was light, only the occasional car driving down the road, and no one was outside, except for the occasional far off sound of a lawnmower drone performing its duties.

After no response from the second ring, the two looked at each other, deciding what to do next.

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:55 AM, July 30th, 2075

Staring straight ahead, pretending to make a comment to Jack, Grease responds slowly.

"This is a delicate matter, so there are two ways I can ask this. However, you seem like someone who doesnt' like to waste time, so I'll cut to the chase. I'm going to couch everything I'm saying with "hypothetically". Let's say, for sake of argument, you were at Club QXT the night of July 25th. Let us also say you were involved in a firefight, and that someone nearby you was killed. We want to find that person's killers; what can you tell us about what happened?"

Grease turns and stares at Argent, studying the expression on his face and the lack of emotion in his silvered eyes.

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:55 AM, July 30th, 2075

Argent's face doesn't change at all, his face as expressive as a chunk of granite, and his eyes just as lifeless. He continues to work on the crosswords while he speaks.

"I appreciate someone to the point. Hypothetically, were I to have that information, that would be considered to have value to the right people. Who the culprit or culprits are, what they look like, video of them shooting at the person in question, etc. 1000 would cover it, if I had that info."

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:55 AM, July 30th, 2075

Grease nods to Jack.

"Well, one thing I'd be curious about before nuyen is exchanged is the value of this information. If, hypothetically, you were aggravated enough to pay them back in kind, that information would be less valuable to us. Can you guarantee that's not the case?"

Outside Schaefer's Diner, 10:20 AM, July 30th, 2075

Amy and Overkill approached Schaefer's Diner on MLK Blvd. across from the scene of Officer Newton's shooting.

"Some Shadowrunner don't like to use their real names." Drave said to Amy before entering, "I personally prefer to leave foolish pseudonyms around town, like today I will be Heinrich. Our premise is the same. PIs hired by the family of the slain Officer for furthering the investigation."

"He just sit down, wait for the waitress, and when she comes, ask to speak to the manager."

The Rising Sun Casino, 11:58 AM, July 30th, 2075

Jack cringed a bit when he heard Argent's price for the info. That's a lot of dinero. The information better be good.

The ork cringed even more when it didn't appear that Grease was going to try to negotiate the price down at all. Argent couldn't know how much information they had nor the details and conditions of their employment, so it seemed like they had a few bargaining chips, but the elf was better at reading people, so maybe they had less leverage than he thought.

Jack slowly pulled out his commlink so as not to startle Argent and transferred 1000 to the credstick in his pocket. He waited to pull out the credstick until the final sum was settled. While he had the commlink out, he quickly typed a message.

<<@Grease [JustJack] Doesn't know our position, might go lower. Doubt the info has value to him.>>