Friday, 22 November, 1924; Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

The three men in the kitchen with John started moving from the first three pops, the lieutenant reaching into his jacket, the two guards rushing John. Undeterred by the smaller explosion in the closet, their huge, grasping hands were just making contact with John when the much larger explosions rocked the dining room behind them, sending the door behind them flying into the room on a wave of billowing orange flame.

Friday, 22 November, 1924; Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex #93

It's always problematic to fight against two people at once while not hurting the third to much.

Luckily, John could rely on machine precision while the two goons rushed him: He brought the Assault Rifle up with lightning speed and sent a hail of bullets at his two would be attackers from point blank.

Friday, 22 November, 1924; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

With Vsxboy still in his hide atop the building, and Jan already in his position near the putative exchange site, all that was left once the call came from John was for Rocky to return to his position of the evening previous.

In the RV, DES concentrated on the perceptions of the site and the approaching roads as provided by his spirits and drones, with Rave as his security.

DES saw the Knight Errant patrol cruiser enter the road they were on, noting it, but not thinking much of it...until it stopped about twenty meters behind the RV.

Rave watched through the window as the car puts its spots on the rear windows and then sat there for ten seconds. Then the doors opened and two uniformed officers - both orks - got out and walked easily towards the RV's side door.

Knocked.

Friday, 22 November, 1924; Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

The two burly Koreans looked like they'd bounced off a brick wall, tossed back from John's form just as thick fingers reached for clothing.

Through a mist of the two dead men's blood John saw their boss pull an Ares Predator and fire it at his face...

John drew his head to the side and in the same motion freed his right hand from the trigger. This movement cost him precious balance and slowed him down - but it was just enough for him to turn it into a forward motion and reach for the man's crotch. The tiny sparks of shock hand left a faint after image in his vision before he closed in on the man's family jewels.

Friday, 22 November, 1924; Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

The man twisted at the last moment, one thigh blocking John's hand. There was still contact though, but the man was unfazed. His clothing was clearly insulated.

Less insulated were his eyes and throat. Heavy mucous was starting to run from his nose. He fired a desperate round at John's head, but his vision was clearly impaired...

Friday, 22 November, 1927; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

She had been reassembling her weapons by muscle memory while cross referencing any new details coming in from John via the KE databases she had hit pay dirt on earlier when the entire inside of the RV lit up like the sun was directly outside.

A string of unladylike curses escaped her lips as she nestled the P30 back inside the duffle bag at her feet and then tucked her Browning beneath her t-shirt at the small of her back. Her posture was a little more on edge not having paid more attention to just who was now outside the door of the RV. Rent-A-Cops would be a pain in the ass but easy enough to get rid of, law enforcement might be a different story altogether and if it was a scout for one of the merchants in play this evening, well all bets might be off.

“Who is it?” She pointed a silent question towards DES who had been monitoring the drones and got a quick and just as silent “Looks like KnightErrant” in reply.

Rave visibly relaxed as she stood, waiting until the KE patrol officers knocked a second time. She opened the door as if she had nothing to hide but casually placed her body between the officer’s direct line of sight and the interior of the RV itself.

“Evening Officers. May I help you with something?”

One officer shifted his position true to his training to try to gain a better vantage point of what, or whom, was just beyond Rave inside. She casually leaned in the other direction, causing the door to close almost imperceptibly, but enough to keep the interior of the RV a mystery to prying eyes. Meanwhile, his partner started to read her the riot act.

“There’s no stopping allowed on this road. You can’t park your vehicle here. I don’t see any signs or notifications of any mechanical issues. If your vehicle is operational, you need to move it. Now.”

He gave her the generic cop stare, the one that was supposed to make her feel uneasy and immediately acquiesce, apologize and move on, but instead she kept her hands visible to both cops and opened the door wider, allowing her to slowly make her way out of the RV. She wasn’t about to give either of them a reason to draw their weapons.

“A word gentleman, if I may?”

With a tiny bit of mental gymnastics she broadcast her implanted ID to both of the officers, including her KE credentials, and waited till they both had reviewed them before going dark and only her undercover ID broadcasting once again. She wasn't worried about a quick broadcast, certain if D Pop knew she was a cop and it had been mentioned in front of DES, her "secret" was safe from the others. For now.

“Looks like we might have a case of the right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing? I assure you I’m sanctioned to be here, you can run it up the chain if you need to, but if you want to bother Captain Bergstrom with this in the middle of surveillance, it’s your asses.”

She named dropped a well-known superior and shrugged as she left the decision in the officer’s hands as to what to do next.

Friday, 22 November, 2075, 1806, Target Villa, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex #95

John stepped aside from the second shot - the Pepperpunch was doing its job. Only a moment longer and his opponent had not enough air to do anything more than weeze.
John kicked away the man's gun while also looking at the two dead guards. 'No obvious cyber or defense improvement despite high reaction. Pretty sure I'm dealing with magic here. Which means they likely have already noticed the explosions. Time for a cleanish getaway.'

John lifted the man over his shoulder and quickly carried him out of the pepper cloud. Out of the pan into the fire - literally: The main part of the restaurant was on fire, dead and nearly dead men lay strewn across the room. Placing the waste baskets with the grenades on the tables in their midst had had the desired effect. The fires where a byproduct of the hotplates coming into contact with the tacky paper decorations. '425 Nuyen well spend.'
The smoke was getting thick and John hurried to bring his captive out of the building, kicking out the remaining glass window to the front. The fresh air gave the fire new elan, setting the smoldering drapes into full flame. Not long til the fire would find the gas in the kitchen...
"You are in luck that I happen to have a fully equipped Valkyrie Module in my car. We'll have you well enough for talking in no time. But first we've got to get rid of all this pesky, smoldering clothes."

John extended the climbing claws and began to rip away the man's expensive suit. Once he was naked, he took him into the Valkyrie module. The memory foam took him in and immobilized him (after John had entered "Possible spine fracture") and let the bio monitor do its thing. Just to be sure, John used the manual restraints to keep the man from using his arms.
Once he was sure the man wouldn't be able to riot, he let the autodoc do its job: Applying a weak stimulant to wake him up again - John purposefully stopped the machine from applying painkillers or the antidote to Pepperpunch.

John went behind the wheel and started to drive away with his captive.
"Rise and shine my friend. You are the lucky one today - still alive and not burned to a crisp. You guys really should follow the OSHA guidelines. That restaurant was a real fire trap.
In a second I'll ask you a question. Your first impulse will be to tell me to go fuck myself. I totally understand that, really. It's what I'd do to if I thought as myself as a tough guy in a tough organization.
But I ask you to consider the following: You are within a Autodoc unit that I control. At the moment I entered that you are in dire need of an amputation of your toes. After that I can remove your lower legs, followed by your upper legs. Followed by your genitals. From there we can see how long it takes to reduce you to a door mat - especially after I remove your eyes and arms. This will be a really fun ride.

So after this preliminary information: Where is the exchange supposed to happen?

Oh and don't play for time. I'm starting at your little pinky toe now."

Friday, 22 November, 1927; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

The two officers considered the attractive young detective's words for a moment, looking at each other. Finally, one of the orks said, "Hey, didn't khow you were on the job. So we'd hate to blow your cover - why not make like you're leaving, drive around a bit. Then when we're gone you can come back and park again. Otherwise, anyone with eyes on you wonders why we gave you a pass....and then while you're driving around for a few minutes, we'll have our captain call yours. No hurt feelings, no blown job, and if all goes well you'll never see us again. We'll wait in our car while you get wheels up - that's what we'd normally do."

Friday, 22 November, 1924; driving away from Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

Driving away from the blazing building, John saw the restaurant's sign and it occurred to him that Korean BBQ was taking on a whole new meaning.

Beside him, his captive was coughing and gagging as a tiny mechanical arm from inside the Valkyrie was directing suction at his right nostril, attempting to clear the man's airway of the profuse phlegm discharge triggered by the overexposure to oleoresin capsicum. And through the gagging he was starting to scream, presumably as a blade John couldn't quite see went to work on his toe.

It took a minute, but John realized the choking scream formed words - Costco Drive off Andover Park East, burned out car center - over and over, and with increasing urgency.

John stopped the Valkyrie module so the screaming subsided a bit: "Good, but where is the place where we were supposed to start our escort?
If you answer quickly, I might be inclined to reattach your toe."

<<Team, I've got my informant and the main force is currently being roasted to a crisp. He just confirmed that the hand over will be at your location, but I might be able to learn at which part of the border they are bringing in the kids. I'll keep you posted, but be ready to abandon your current position. We might be able to catch them before they can mobilize their reserves.>>

Friday, 22 November, 1925; driving away from Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

"Enumclaw," the man panted, "service area just inside the 164 border crossing...if they go ahead...lots of back-up plans...I don't know them."

Friday, 22 November, 1925; driving away from Korean BBQ Restaurant, Capital Hill, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex #97

"Thanks, that wasn't so hard, was it?" True to his word he reversed the operation, telling the VM to reattach the toe and apply a painkiller.

<<Got it: Enumclaw, service area just inside the 164 border crossing. I'm heading there now.>>

Friday, 22 November, 1929; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

“We’ve got little birds in the air. Let us get them back in the nest and we’ll be on our way, surveillance isn’t panning out here and we may have been fed bogus information. Feel free to save face by keeping me out here until we can go wheels up.”

She digested the info coming in via John in real time while feeding back simple text messages to DES and then the entire team respectively.

[DES]: Bring your eyes in the sky home. This location may now be compromised by Knight Errant, or at least their officers are now interested in what we’re doing here.

[TEAM]: We’ve got company in blue aware of some of our presence on site. They may or may not be thrown off the scent completely, but they seem curious. May make the most sense to attempt the border crossing, might be the easier of the two handoffs, especially if this is the decoy location after all.

Friday, 22 November, 1930; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

It hadn't been as much sleep as Rocky was hoping to get when Jan woke him at 18:30 to head back out to their hiding spots closer in to the warehouse to continue waiting for the meet to go down. But 2 plus hours was better than running for his life the whole time so he wasn't going to complain.

He had spent ten minutes stretching and then reloading his gun and speed loaders with the new ammo Rascle had secured with him. Lastly he loaded the grenades in to the pockets of his lined coat.

Jan had led them out to the same spots they had used the night before and taken up watch. They each would watch for fifteen minutes and then swap so neither would zone out and miss something. The first hour or so had been the same as the last part of the morning. One shift of wage slaves finishing their day as another, smaller shift showed up to start theirs.

Then five minutes ago the drek hit the fan. From what Rocky could gather the Korean's had started to pack up to leave and the robot John had set off the surprises he had cooked up for them and then slipped away with the boss. Then Rave had called letting them know the cops were sniffing around and that the group was mounting up to meet John.

As they moved from their hiding spot Rocky responded to Rave's call, [TEAM]:Jan & I will meet you around the corner from your current spot so your new friends don't see us.

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1930; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

<<@All: Do we want head straight there?>> The speech-to-text from his Sensei spoke better english than Jan did, and tried it's best to correct his Azanian twang, but often resulted in chopped words and sentences.

Jan's head was in Action mode. He felt people were acting too fast, on impulse, maybe not thinking things through.
<<@All: We already set up here. Scouted the location, know our terrain. We rushing into unknown here. Unknown enemy, number, location, situation. There isn't much we control>>

He felt his messages may already be falling on deaf ears as the RV accelerated away towards the border. 'Favour' damnit. This favour was going to get him killed...

Friday, 22 November, 1925; driving towards service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex #98

<<I might not have made myself clear: I just blew up two dozen Korean mobsters meant to do the escorting of our target. Luckily I did this after they were ordered to adhere to radio silence. We have maybe a quarter of an hour before the Koreans learn about this and about the same time before they muster their relieve forces. They would have to be pretty stupid to use the planed transfer point after this.
We have now the chance to hijack the truck - with the knowledge of my new friend here and a show of force from your side, we might be able to convince them that we are in fact the relieve team.

Provided of course one of you can play this role convincingly. Otherwise the plan on my part is to shoot the driver of the truck, jump in and steal the thing, but that requires a bit of cooperation on your part as well.>>

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1930; warehouse district between I-5 and Green River, Tukwila, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

Jan sighed. <<@All: I understood. We've written off our plan to go with a 'wing it' approach. None of us can convincingly be Korean>> It was obvious from his tone that he was frustrated by how events had transpired. He didn't like the robot. Didn't fully trust him. Not yet, anyway. Who knows what's really driving that thing? For a man who didn't even have a DNI, the concept of rigging and anthroforms was completely alien.

As an afterthought, and after a suitable pause he added <<@All: We're en route>>

Friday, 22 November, 1806; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

The way DES filtered the lumbering RV through evening Seattle traffic was a testament to the efficacy of a motivated rigger. Thirty-five minutes into what should have been a one-hour drive, the beast pulled into a lonely side street, where it found John standing next to his own ride. They were three blocks from the service area where the Korean soldiers were meant to meet the cargo just a few minutes from now - if it showed.

Friday, 22 November, 1945; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex #99

John waited for the team next to his car.
"Great to see you again. Do you have some drones we can use for aerial recon?
For that matter does anyone want to ask the Korean lieutenant anything about this operation? He is quite cooperative since I found his one weakness: He doesn't like if someone removes parts of his body."

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Seattle, Seattle Metroplex

Jan snorted a quick laugh. He and John did, at least, seem to share a fondness for old-school interrogation techniques. "People get pissy about these things. You'd understand, if you had a body to speak of."

"I don't mind leading off. I can look inconspicuous if I need to."

Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

The border crossing, and the nearby service area, had been readily visible as they approached. From kilometers out, traffic AROs had made travellers aware of the border, though it wasn't a busy enough crossing to have much impact on local traffic patterns.

Still, the sight was (purposely) imposing, with high, zig-zagging cement barriers across the Griffin Avenue, all topped with razor wire and obvious sensors. Which the seasoned runners knew were for show, and to distract from the monowire and the less-obvious sensors. Two huge spirits - man and beast - floated around the checkpoint menacingly. Border guards with vests and sidearms inspected AR and hardcopy documents while K-9 teams decided which vehicles to physically search.

Just within the crossing point, two Knight-Errant cruisers sat, four patrol officers loitering about not doing much besides drinking soykaf and eating free donuts from the nearby MisuDo.

The service area was fairly busy, as were the surrounding streets, it being fairly early on a Friday night. But there was no sign of any truck that looked like the one Rave had showed them photos of, or anything that looked like it had a lot of protection.

Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #100

"So, it seems like we'll need a bit of trickery with the KE around. I mean unless we just wanted to call them in because slavery is still illegal and crossing borders without SIN even more so.
If they are smart they will wait here until the reserve squat arrives. I have no problem with walking straight up to the truck and pretend I'm part of the advance party - since I was actually hired to be that. For that it would be helpful if we could convince my captive to go along with this ruse. Does anyone of you have the ability to mind control, possess, enchant or drug that guy into compliance?
I'd like to avoid carving of his face and wearing it as a flesh mask, although the shock value might give me a few seconds to act.

Alternatively, I could leave my body, try to take over the truck and just outright steal it through ownership change.

Also, I'm open to any other smart ideas."

Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

As the team mulled their options, they got a call from D-Pop.

<<Once our Watchers marked your movements, we set our minions to watching the roads in the vicinity. A vehicle matching the photos Rave provided is approaching the border station from the Salish side now - you've got five to ten minutes depending on how long the crossing takes. Also, I can confirm that about an hour ago the matrix and drone support elements of their security were taken out by other Chosen agents. Would have let you know sooner, but wanted to see if they would find a way to replace them, but it doesn't seem they have. Still, it seems likely they won't try to compensate somehow...Good luck.>>

No sooner had she finished speaking than everyone heard the roar of heavy bikes, and looking down the street saw a dozen choppers roar into the service area parking lot. They were a ragtag bunch: long hair, beards, tattered clothing and lots of tats. They sported a variety of medieval weapons - and plenty of modern firepower as well - and seemed unconcerned about the nearby police presence. As if their themed appearance and coordinated riding did not mark them as a group, it was easy to note a clear red-and-brown color them to their ragtag collection of leathers and furs.

Coincidence?

Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

Having just listened to the message from D-Pop Rocky gestures over at the crowd of bikers that had just arrived. "These slags part of the party too?"

Considering it for a second he gestures at John's car. "Wanna see if your new chummer knows anything about these guys?"

"Well I was going to offer to distract the KE slags, not sure it will make a difference now."

Friday, 22 November, 19:45; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #101

"If I had to guess, I'd say they are the B-Team called in to reinforce the A-Team after the T-Team lost their matrix and drone protection.

I can ask him, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't informed about them." John went to sedated man and had the VM wake him up again, asking after the biker gang and for any passwords or identification he would have had to present at the meeting.

While he waited for the answer he turned back to Rocky: "They look pretty undisciplined. Maybe we can provoke them into abandoning their position."

Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

Drugs or not, it took the man a minute or two to become fully coherent. He kept his eyes closed. He was a dead man with a voice. And now that he knew John spoke Korean, that was all he used. "Those are the Blood Mountain Boys. We use them sometimes. They must have been called in."

To John's questions about passwords or signs, he shook his head. "We are known to each other. I am known. They will not deal with strangers."

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

"I'm getting closer in." Jan said as he exited the RV; his rifle remaining in the back. He vanished in the direction of the nearby shops only to emerge 3 minutes later in a padded red/black check shirt and a blue/white trucker baseball cap. He'd shaken the newness out of them, but his filthy jeans and t-shirt complemented the look well. His MP was tucked away inside the shirt, and his comm earbud was pressed into his left ear. He was also eating a sandwich - partly to complement the look but mostly because he was starving. A drop of mustard adorned the new apparel.

He headed out of the shops and across to the gas station, and b-lined for a big rig in truck park near the back. It wasn't a perfect cover, but he wouldn't be here long, it provided him with good temporary cover (both disguise, and from covering fire) and most importantly put him closer to the action if he needed to snatch and grab...

Friday, 22 November, 19:46; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #102

John needed a few moments to digest the new information
'Situation: 12 highly mobile combatants, used to road combat. 1 cargo truck, slow acceleration but durable. Two KE patrol cruisers with option on additional support.'

'Query: Can we take out 12 ganger before truck appears?
Situation: relatively tight formation ideal for grenade use.
Negation: Guaranteed escalation with KE.
Solution: Stealth approach, distraction necessary -> Use captive.'

John activated smile No. 2 while he spoke to the team channel

<<Alright. Those gangers will probably split up: 4 in front, 4 behind, 1 scout ahead, 1 scout behind once they realize that the Koreans won't appear.

There are three solutions to this problem:
1) We wait until the convoy is out of sight of the KE. If you can distract the gangers I can jump onto the truck and try to capture it. This is the plan with the highest risk of failure, unless one of you can use my Ares Alpha grenade launcher reliably to take out moving targets while I climb.

2) We take the truck here and risk KE involvement. We'd need a distraction so one or two of us can sneak get to the truck while it's stopped or at least slowed down after passing customs. I could remove the tongue of my captive or wire his mouth shut, fit him with a grenade and send him in the direction of the gangers. While he tries to convey the message I can blow him up. KE will call reinforcements, but hopefully they'll deal with the gangers instead of looking for an outside perpetrator. This relies heavily on the truck actually slowing down.

3) Full on assault and trap: I have microwire with me. IF we rig a small pass with it at head height and start shit with the gangers, we could lure some of them away and hopefully make them decapitate themselves, then the rest of us moves in and shoots the remaining forces from ambush before KE can react. Again we use the commotion to capture the truck.

If anyone has a better idea, please say so.>>

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

<<@All: I have a better idea. We don't need a truck. We only need this Audric kid. I say we blow a hole in the side of the truck, herd the kids out, grab the one we want and bolt. KE will be occupied with the screaming kids, the Koreans will be trying to protect their income. We could be free and clear in minutes.>> The plan seemed obvious to Jan. Harsh? Possibly. Effective? Certainly. As soon as they got hung up on trying to 'save the children' they were all in the shit.

Friday, 22 November, 19:47; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #103

<<Normally I'd be all over such a simple solution, but you neglect to consider what happens if we blow a hole at the place where our target just happens to be. Also we'd need to apply cutting tamped cutting charges for something approximating a clean opening where the hostages can run out without slicing their legs to ribbons - if they aren't all lying drugged and chained on the floor to keep them silent.>>

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

<<@All: I aren't neglecting shit. Your robot eyes can't see through that thing? I figure the kids will be huddled together. They've had to come through the border so they won't be at the back. They'll have boxes or some shit stacked there in case they get pulled. We can blow the doors pretty safe. If not and they're chained to the floor we just aim high. They aren't very tall...>> Jan seemed slightly pissed off at the implication he hadn't thought this through. He was a cruel fucker, but he certainly wasn't half-cocked. In this team of wannabe party kids he reckoned he was about as professional as they came.

Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #104
<<We don't have time to argue about this, but you are still going to chuck burning slag inside the container without knowing who'll get hit and if they even can use the opening. Cutting of the locks on the back to open the doors would seem to be the safer option - not to mention more silent.

Also you haven't mentioned how you want to get close to the truck to do all this. That's the real concern from my point of view - especially with trigger happy gangers around.>>

John didn't have teeth to grit, or adrenal glands to make him angry, but he certainly felt the time pressure. So far this whole teamwork thing didn't really convince him.
He wanted to reply more but Rave cut in with her message:

<<Just for your info about these KE Cruisers: These guys are probably tasked to deal with any border-related stuff that gets past the border guards themselves (since those can't leave their post). Like, if someone blows past them and on into the plex, that's what these guys are for. They would have discretion, of course, to deal with any nearby problems they see.

But if a call at another location went out, these guys at the border would not likely be dispatched there.

But a call on an "explosives threat" on that specific truck once it clears customs/the border might get them to isolated it KE and we could manage to attempt to plant something on it to validate the presence of explosives and then force them to open the truck, free ALL the kids and then create a diversion and smuggle Auric away from the scene?>>

John read the message and replied:
<<That could work. We would have to content with the bomb squad, but at least the gangers wouldn't be in the picture. If we call in Acetonperoxid, better known as "Mother of Satan" they'll have to isolate it quickly and open it up with drones for visual inspection since that stuff is really hard to detect by chemsniffers (and incredibly unstable).>>

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

<<I'll duck and run>> Jan said, as if that's how everyone should approach a truck under armed guard. <<I'm already close. They won't be ready for it. I'll be on it before too many have reacted>>

<<Blowing the doors off is a figure speech. Cut them, drill them, fokking magic them off and spirit them away all I care. Explosives is quickest though. I'm gon file this under Plan B for when our elaborate scheme is truly befok. Calling in law seems bad news to me, where I'm from you don't do that, and if you did the cops are as bad as the criminals. Maybe it's different here>> Jan adjusted his cap and moved around the truck, getting the best visual angle and shortest distance to where he imagined the target would stop.

A little exasperated, he continued. <<I'm in position when you heroes have decided what you're doing. Til then, out>>

Friday, 22 November, 1947; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #105

<<Be my guest, I'll supply the distraction. Time for the Korean to repay me for the ride and the free medical care since there aren't any other ideas how we should do this. But be ready for the truck to start moving suddenly.>>

John checked that the Korean was just conscious enough to be able to walk - if not in a straight line and then went about rigging a mini-grenade for remote detonation and hit it in one of the tactical pockets of the Korean's vest.

Friday, 22 November, 1949; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

Rave had left the RV and made her way over to the parking lot of the Buds & Blooms franchise where the K-E pawns were stationed. Now dressed down from the night at the club, she still filled out her street clothes nicely and was having no trouble playing curious cop-groupie. She was going to keep the team apprised of their reaction, and be ready to pull her badge and try to steer their response as neeeded.

DES had put a surveillance drone up high, and now reported: <<The quarry approaches. Rave?>>

Any of them could have matched the image relayed from the drone with the stills provided by Rave, but she confirmed it herself. <<That's the truck.>>

It was travelling with what looked like a Salish go-gang, but they peeled off into the service area on that side about a klick from the crossing.

The truck would hit the crossing in about one minute, and there wasn't much of a queue.

Friday, 22 November, 1949; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #106

John had finished the preparations and opened the Valkyrie Module. The Korean looked like 10 miles of bad road. His face still puffy from the pp as well as the crying - despite the applied anti-histamine. By now the worst burning would have gone, but his lungs were still not recovered completely, according to the readout. John put the man's shoes back on his feet, taking moderate care not to jostle the bandage on his left foot.
"Rise and shine my friend.
Good news. You have a chance to live after all. All you have to do is walk over there to the gangers and tell their leader to send out his main force , because there is an ambush waiting behind the bend five miles down the road. If you do that I won't shoot your head of with my shiny Ares Alpha.
I tell, you that is the best deal you are going to get. I might even feel generous enough to help you crossing over into Salish territory afterwards in a way that you don't have to worry about money or the Seoulpa.

Now let me just make you a bit more presentable and once the truck comes in, just walk over there and do your best.
I'm counting on you, Buddy."

John finished that sentence with cheerful grin no.3. while helping the man back into his vest and coat.

Friday, 22 November, 1949; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

The man made no reply. His head hung.

Once his coat was on he began his unsteady, weaving journey to two blocks to his assigned destination, zombielike.

DES: <<They're at the checkpoint.>>

Friday, 22 November, 19:49; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

Rocky was unsure what he could do to help until the drek hit the fan, so he kept his eyes and ears open. Listening to the updates on the comm and watching for any signs of other trouble, ready to take off at a sprint to back someone up.

Friday, 22 November, 1949; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #107

Like his erstwhile prisoner, John moved into position, keeping an eye on the Korean. His rifle was inside his bag, ready to be brought forth if the situation required another grenade.

He didn't really care what the Korean told the bikers, just that they were for the most part in the explosion radius.

<<Alright, any minute now. As soon as the truck has stopped I'll start the distraction. Keep your mouths open and your dampers on for the boom.>>

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

The feed from DES's drone showed the tractor trailer practically fly through the checkpoint, the guards giving the exterior the most cursory of checks as they waved it through. It was already passing Rave - playing with her hair and asking the Knight-Errant cops about their guns - when the Korean stumbled into the parking lot. With the truck just signalling its turn into the service area's parking area, waiting for an opening in oncoming traffic to hang the left, the bikers noticed the Seoulpa man, who was waving his arms vaguely at both them and the truck. Three burly bikers spurred their steeds forward a few meters to talk to him.

Friday, 22 November, 1949; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #108

John gave the truck time to enter the service area and come to a stop. He didn't need to see the bikers faces to know that they didn't buy what the Seoulpa was saying. Just as they were turning back towards their comrades on wheels, John decided to start the party.

<<This is it. 3,2,1... Party>>
And with that he sent the command to the small rifle grenade in the Korean's pocket, which obediently detonated in a shockwave that made all windows in the nearer area vibrate and scattered the Korean and the four gangers into all directions.

'Told you I'd help you cross the border...'

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

Fortunately for those that cared, and whatever for those that didn't, the arrival of the Blood Mountain Boys had sent all the other citizens in the parking lot scattering, so that none were hurt by the brutal explosion that dismembered the Korean and killed the gang's leader outright. Other bikers were hit by the blast as well, weathering it better or worse depending on proximity to the explosion.

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #109

John didn't waste any time: While chaos just began to reign and body parts to rain, he grabbed the rifle from his bag brought it up to his shoulder and sent one precise shot into the part of the truck where his infrared sensor indicated that the engine sat.
With satisfaction John noted the spraying oil and steam escaping from the newly formed hole.

Whatever happened, the smuggling truck wouldn't escape from this scene anytime soon.

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

With the bikers distracted, Jan broke from his cover and sprinted, head down, for the back of the truck. He'd slid John's micro-welder from inside his shirt and started heating it as he approached, his MP gripped firmly in the other hand. 'Who carries a micro-welder?' Jan though to himself. 'Maybe this was a droid's first aid kit? Creepy fucker.'

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

As hissing steam billowed around the tractor and ears rang from the blast, the air was immediately filled with gunfire. Many of the gangers were reeling from the attack or coming the realization that something had gone down, but the more seasoned among them had been well on their guard, and immediately directed effective fire in John's direction.

With all eyes that were facing anywhere facing the guy at the corner of the building with the assault rifle, no one seemed to see Jan has he took a line behind them and climbed onto the tail of the trailer.

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #110

John just stepped aside for the return fire, having it hit only brick and concrete.
'Thanks for playing, but no dice'

It was moments like this that brought back clear memories from his past as part of MET2000's drone strike group. Everything was just like a matrix shooter in an UV host. Actually, he often wondered if he wasn't in fact still in an UV host that only simulated his experiences.
But in any case he wasn't going to lose this match, although he had to draw it out to give Jan time to do his breaking and entering thing.
So instead of returning fire with expensive APDS he just switched to the grenade launcher mode and shot a cheap pepperpunch grenade in the midst of the three organized gangers for a bit of added chaos.

Jan
Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

He arrived at the truck seconds later. No-one had seen him - a combination of a reasonably simple disguise and a carefully planned route. Welder primed, he pinged the locks off the box in seconds and swung the door open a few feet. Boxes, as he'd suspected. He pulled himself up into the back maneuvered through the gap in the boxes. Even his enhanced elven eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness as he scanned the faces in the back.

Friday, 22 November, 1950; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex #111

The return fire was withering although the grenade dispensed its fog exactly where John wanted it. He was forced to step back around the corner as he noticed to bikes charging towards him and Rocky. Swing their clubs at him had little effect on the chassis beneath his armor.

John saw with great satisfaction how Rocky punched one of the gangers clear of his bike, making the other lose control and slide across the asphalt. More as an after thought than anything else, John put a bullet through the head of the fallen one before he took of at speed, rounding the building and reappearing behind cover in the next alley, ready to hurt the gangers some more.
During all that he found the time to send a message to Jan: <<What's your status? I can confirm that the bikers are well and truly distracted and in a few seconds probably crying as well.>>

Friday, 22 November, 19:50; near service area just inside the 164 border crossing, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex

The wait for the other shoe to drop and the drek hit the fan didn't take long. The truck they had been waiting for had made it through the check point and was heading for the parking lot where the bikers were waiting. As the truck pulled to a stop the guy John had captured headed for it and the bikers, waving his hands and probably saying something to them. Then he was gone in a cloud of bloody mist and chunks.

Rocky winced and then figured he should help keep the bikers distracted since Jan was making the move on the truck, or at least that’s what he thought he had heard. He took off at a sprint moving as fast as huge legs would carry him toward the truck, gripping a smoke grenade in one hand and a frag in the other, waiting to see what happened and to get closer before tossing one or both of them.

He had covered about a quarter of the distance to the truck when two bikes came out of the smoke John's grenade had spewed and were headed straight for him. As he got to the halfway point they closed with him, luckily they opted not to adjust or couldn't react fast enough as he altered his direction slightly to pass next to only one of them, instead of between them. This mistake gave Rocky the room he needed to try something a little crazy. As the closer biker passed him, Rocky used his long reach to punch the rider and catch him at an angle that launched the now unconscious rider at his partner.

Rocky never stopped running but heard the first bike go down and then a fraction of a second later the second one went down as well. Which was then quickly followed by a single shoot from what Rocky guessed was John's rifle. These bikers handled Rocky looked ahead to see what was coming next.