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adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 1400; West Seattle

Raven Hartley was busy cleaning her Browning Ultra Power at her kitchen table when her commlink buzzed. It was Shane's tone. She hadn't "worked" in a couple of weeks - Knight Errant was pretty good about giving her long breaks to let her decompress after extended undercover ops, but she'd known it couldn't last.

They made some small talk, not much. He said, "Vor are opening a new club tonight on 5th and Olive, called Chaika. I need eyes inside. Better make Viktoria a fixture there. Place is an anthill right now with all the prep - if you can get in before they actually open, so much the better. I'll be in touch later when I have a better idea of what specifically you're looking for."
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 1454; West Seattle

Vacation's officially over I guess.

Raven sighed as Shane disconnected, reseating the slide of her pistol until it caught and driving the magazine home with satisfying force. She chambered the first round out of habit and set the weapon aside before she gathered up the cleaning supplies, gun oil and the used patches coated in carbon. Disposing the waste in the trash she spared a glance at the time before she wound her way through her tiny apartment and made a beeline towards her closets. She did mental inventory of what was in her closets here at this apartment vs. that of her cover identity. It didn't take long for her to realize she would have to make a trip there before she could conceivably make a run at at new club.

Shane hadn't shared more than she needed to hear by phone, but she expected the details he had conveniently left out to arrive electronically. Anything she would need to gain the edge tonight, to game her way into the club without an invitation. Names, rumors, facts. It didn't matter to her ultimate endgame really, but they definitely made things a bit easier as she wouldn't have time to go through her normal routine to slip back into character. To leave Raven behind and become Viktoria.

Viktoria's cover had been a trip back to Russia, and she had "left" on a flight over two weeks ago for anyone who bothered to check, and she was fairly certain Ilia would check. The club opening would be the perfect excuse for her return to Seattle after being off the grid as far as the Vory were concerned. Raven started to gather the dirty clothes from her apartment and shove them into the suitcase that had sat beside the door to her bedroom for seventeen days. She needed to keep up appearances and returning to Viktoria's apartment without her suitcase or dirty laundry wouldn't fly.

She slipped on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt that bared her shoulder. Something comfortable that would pass for traveling clothes on a trans-pacific flight. She piled her hair up on top of her head in a messy top knot and packed and rechecked her carry on bag. Locking all of her identifying items that tied her back to Raven in the safe imbedded in the floor, she pulled out Viktoria's matching documents and as she went to make arrangements for a cab to pick her up a few blocks away, her commlink shivered with the notification of an incoming file. Details from Shane, she hoped.
adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 1456; West Seattle

<<Anything and everything on one D-Pop. No image available, but supposed to be young, well turned out Russian woman due to hit town soon if not already here. Not necessarily Vor, but at least well connected. We need to know why she's here and keep eyes on if possible. May be a bust, in which case gather any general intel on the club and Vor activity, blah blah blah. Honestly, all the brass care about is this girl - and keep it quiet - this came down straight to me from the top, very hush hush.>>
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 15:13; West Seattle

The lack of details coupled with the missing images elicited another deep sigh from Raven. Really, she expected no less, especially with something coming down from "on high" vs. within the ranks. She didn't discriminate when she had to find ways to get close to her mark though she had been expecting for some reason to have to work her way into yet another male-dominated inner circle. Chasing after D-Pop, whomever she might be would be a welcomed change of pace. Already her mind was spinning, shifting gears and changing the way she'd approach tonight. Either way she needed to meet her cab and that meant she needed to be out the door already as her cab would be at the requested pick up before she would. She settled the oversized hat on top of her head to cover her purple hair and grabbed her bag before setting out on the streets of her neighborhood.

Tuesday, 19 November, 15:57; Downtown Seattle

As the cab pulled up in front of Viktoria's apartment, the cabbie spun in his seat to spare a glance back at the Elven woman, the concern evident in his eyes.

"You sure a girl like you is supposed to be in a place like this?"

"Da." Was all she said as she nodded and slotted a platinum banded credstick to cover her fare. With reluctance that sped up only when the cabbie saw the generous tip he was left, he pulled her bag from the back and pulled away from the curb only once she was securely inside the front door of the building.

Once inside, she bee-lined for the stairs and placed the call that had been on her mind then entire cab ride as soon as it connected and before the other voice could speak, Raven was already talking at a rapid pace in heavily accented English as she paused on the stairs.

"Ilia, lyubov moya, tell me a girl didn't take a suborbital flight back from Vladivostok just to be turned away at the door of the new club in town? I hear it's the place to see and be seen!"

She knew how to play him, how to appeal to his vanity, his desire to appear well-connected as well as playing up the naive celebutante persona she had crafted for Viktoria.
adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 15:58; Downtown Seattle

"Viktoria."

There is almost a smile in his voice.

"I am...entertaining...at the moment. No time to talk."

In the background there are sounds. Metahuman sounds that Rave can't quite identify as pleasure or pain.

"But I will be at Chalka tonight, and will put you on my list."

A staccato metallic sound. Then creaking.

"You must not be a stranger after you get there, though."
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 16:27; Downtown Seattle

“No, of course not Ilia. You have all of my attention as long as you want it. Thank you for your generosity, I cannot wait to see you this evening.”

“Paka Viktoria.”

She couldn't get a word in edge wise before the line went dead in her head which meant she could make other calls while she started her preparations for the evening.

Her first call was to a car service that Ilia insisted she use in order to obtain suitable transportation to the club opening. Raven was certain his insistence that she use the service was because of its loose ties to the Vory as much as it was one more way for him to keep tabs on her.

Once the car was squared away she got to work prepping herself for the evening. She jumped in the shower and washed off the day, making sure to use the bath and body products Ilia had commented positively on in the past and avoiding the ones he said made her smell like a ‘cheap whore.’ She dug through her limited closet and pulled what she thought would be the perfect outfit for the evening and laid it across her bed along with shoes, accessories and she tossed beside it a makeup bag that contained all the products that would create Viktoria’s signature look.

With her long hair wrapped in a towel and her body dwarfed by a warm, fluffy robe she settled into the armchair in Viktoria’s space living room and tucked her feet up beneath her. She needed to devote some of her limited time to digging a bit deeper into both the club and what else she might find on D-Pop that Shane hadn’t provided. To do that she needed a connection to KE’s databases and then she’d start down the rabbit-hole that was the entertainment and gossip sites on the matrix. She set an alarm that would give her a 45 minute warning in case she got too deep down various threads.

She dove into KE’s mainframe first, pulling any data on Chalka and it’s assumed owners and ties to the Vory so she had a good grasp on the main players of the evening to manipulate that to her advantage in getting closer to the mysterious D-Pop.
adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 18:12; Downtown Seattle

Using her access, Raven skimmed everything that might relate to the Seattle Vor, then into the global KE database on the Vor, then D-Pop. Only passing references to the girl as a known associate, although it was interesting that Ilia's name came up as one of those. But as far as KE knew, she was not in fact recognized as a thief-in-law.

And that was it, which did not surprise her, because Shane would have given her more if he'd had it. Probably.

But what if he hadn't known? She started looking other places in the KE host, starting with other criminal organizations with which Shane's work did not bring him into regular contact. And there it was, and there it was again. Raven had learned long ago that for all the computers and analysts and agents, any institution as big as Knight-Errant security was going to have left hands not knowing what the right hands were doing.

Because there in the yakuza files she found notes on an open contract on one D-Pop.

And then another one, a separate one, in the Seoulpa files.
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 16:27; Downtown Seattle

The Yakuza connection first intrigued her, and then the Seoulpa link started to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. She would need to say something, but nothing said she had to do it before her night of recon however. She would have to note the connections and point out the non-linked files in her after action report that Lucas would expect after tonight’s events at Chalka.

She knew there had to be a thread or two that tied D-Pop to all three (and possibly more) crime families and she started to whittle down the veins of crime and vice that the Vory, Yakuza and Seoulpa rings all participated in and if any of it could be the link to finding out more about just who D-Pop was and why she was in Seattle. At least her connection to Ilia would make her approach and hopeful introduction to the mystery woman that much simpler.

She took her time leafing through the files pertaining to the Yaks and Seoulpa seeing if anything stuck out to her and overlapped anything else she had read in the other files. Before she knew it, her alarm tone was rousing her from her research with a piercing reminder she needed to start getting ready.
adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 2042; Downtown Seattle

Of course there were connections, dozens of them, all neatly cross-indexed by top-of-the-line datasort agents. Vor and Yak. Ring and Vor. Yak and Ring. Nothing with all three...but there must be something in all this data...she had worked the multimedia files for hours, until she saw the truck in the yak file. She'd seen it before - she didn't even have to check back, her steel trap memory more sure than her eyes, to know it was the same truck she'd seen with the same date-stamp as in the Seoulpa file - same chips on the paint, same hubcaps. She pulled up more surveillance imagery, scanning weeks of it as fast as she dared. K-E had surveillance on literally hundreds of suspected smuggling runs by both organiazations - there had been so much data to sift.

Finally she had it. That truck and another just like it, again identified by incidental markings, had been driven somewhere - she never saw where, but it must have been a different spot on each occasion - eight times in the past eight months. There was never footage of them meeting, but always the one driven by the yaks ended up an hour later with the rings, and vice versa. About once a month, the two organizations were exchanging trucks - big tractor trailers hauling shipping containers. But they always had different plates after the exchange - easy enough to do, and easy enough to spot if you were looking - but it was enough to stop the datasort agents from spotting them as the same trucks and flagging the connection.

Eight times. March first. April second. May fourth. June sixth. July tenth. August twelfth. September sixteenth. October eighteenth.

She knew that sort of shipping container - the type with subtle additions of air vents.

And the person that might know about it was supposedly going to be at Chalka sometime soon. Yes, it was time to get ready.
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 21:39; Downtown Seattle

She got to work with much speed. She threw off the towel that had dried her hair to at least slightly damp and quickly ran a handful of styling products through it before braiding the length of it tight against her head. She quickly applied her makeup, soft golds and pinks, almost angelic in counterpoint to the outfit she had chosen for opening night. Sifting through another closet in her tiny space that she lovingly referred to the costume closet, she procured the perfect wig and jewelry for the evening.

She slipped into the skin-tight black dress with its mesh panels that ran along the entire side of the dress and exposed every curve. Sensible, but still stiletto black heels that were more strap than shoe buckled onto her feet and settled the wig on top of her braids, fastening the garter and the combs to ensure it wouldn’t slip off at a most inopportune time. She put simple glittering studs into her ears and she fastened the necklace behind her neck and took one last look in the mirror. A tight choker of sparkling diamond-like stones glittered at her throat as she brushed the loose raven curls away from her face.

This will have to do.

She spritzed one last spray of Ilya’s favorite perfume at her decollate when her attention was pulled from her reflection to something in the corner of her vision. She watched in her 50% mask overlay as her hired car turned the corner on the map just blocks from her apartment. She slipped into the black trench coat and belted it tight at her waist as she left the apartment and locked the door behind her.

Game time.

She stepped out her front door as the luxury sedan with it’s near-black tinted windows slowed to a stop outside her run-down apartment building. She looked out of place, not by all the shadowy fabrics that enveloped her, but that she looked more high-class than the neighborhood could bear. Her eyes narrowed at the car’s door and it was a moment later the locks disengaged and she slid across the buttery soft leather in the back seat.

“To Chalka. With speed please.” She clipped out in her heavily accented English.
adamu
Tuesday, 19 November, 2330; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

The car pulled as the clock was striking ten. There was already a line of hopefuls stretching around the block for the opening of the hot new club, and the doorman, having long since shooed several undesirables from the front of the line, was about to open the doors to Chalka's first regular guests. Then the car door opened and Viktoria stepped out with a tantalizing flash of leg. Without looking around but vivacious eyes locked in confident greeting on the doorman, she strode straight up and into his embrace. "Viktoria - you missed the pre-party - but perhaps you'd like to officially be Chalka's first customer," he said loudly, before adding quietly in her ear, "Not that your cred is any good here, as Ilia's guest for the evening."

The couple who'd waited three hours - she in six-inch heels - were vocally dismayed, but a beefy ork behind the doorman stared them to silence.

Having learned from the doorman that Ilia's party had yet to arrive,, Viktoria entered a near empty space - a few booths here and there seating other Russian social climbers that had made the list for the more sedate pre-event. The music was likewas understated at the moment, the DJ naturally planning to rev it up after the first flood of entrants had made their initial drink orders. Rave - as Viktoria - wasted no time in making the rounds of those already there, catching up - as was her assignment - on all the latest gossip in the Russian gray market.

Subtle enquiries - more like passing mentions in conversation - got no bites or even hints of recognition, though. She hadn't expected much from these people, they were clubbers, not gangsters. Ilia would know more, but who knew when he'd show, and calling him would look too eager.

Around eleven-thirty, though, she did better with Pyotr. He was running the bar, as he had and probably still did some nights at Red October. "Yeah, citizens don't know her, but the in-laws do. She's a...friend...of the brotherhood. Supposed to show up here soon, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow." He shrugged, and she thanked him. As she took her drink, he added, "But hey, that young guy in the white tux, he was asking about her too. Never seen him before, but he knew who she was."
Raiderj
Vexboy couldn't keep his composure for too long. He had remembered all the fight he had to fight as a street kid. Then he remembered all the ones he had as a street kid that he lost. He gulped and decided to screw it and just talk to the lady in black. He went up to the bar. "Forgive my forwardness but a great deal is on the line for me. Miss... D-pop?" He asked Rave.
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 23:47; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

She was grateful for Pyotr’s hedged but forthcoming share of information. She thanked him with a hefty tip from a credstick produced from her slim handbag, knowing full well her drink would be attached to Ilya’s tab whether or not he showed. Pyotr’s mention of someone else looking for D-Pop intrigued her and she spun lazily to rest her back against the bar and took a long sip from her drink as she was quick to pick out the young man in the white tux and before she could commit to making her way across the bar herself, she was rewarded with his approach.

She studied him as he walked, recognizing the subtle gait and movements of someone who was out of his element, much like she had been on her initial undercover stings. Her hair bristled at the back of her neck, surely Knight Errant wouldn’t have sent in someone so green to either back her up or worse, keep additional eyes on her. She’d have to tread carefully with this one.

“Forgive my forwardness but a great deal is on the line for me. Miss… D-pop?”

She could practically feel Pyotr’s head shaking behind her as the young man in the tux opened his mouth. Definitely not the smoothest approach, nor the most subtle, but she would give the gentleman points for attempting. Her face remained cooly impassive and the only sense of expression she offered was a perfectly sculpted dark eyebrow raised in point.

She did nothing to “hide” the accent she worked hard to master, but she gave nothing else away.

“Who wants to know?"
Raiderj
Vexboy was screwed. He knew it... he decided to throw the decorum away. He had one thing to offer her. "Vexboy is my handle. And im the only hope for the kiddie shipment... truth is... im a noob." He chuckled a bit. "Seriously. I have no idea how this works... but I am desperate... I... I have no idea what the Hell my totem sees in this... I feel like a stupid kid..." He chuckles again... then spoke softly. "But...have... have you ever been raped... as a child, Miss D-pop?" Vexboy said laughing sadly. His eyes go back to the first fight he ever lost... his first fight period. "Do you know how it feels?" His eyes told the story. Though he smiled...


Vincent ran like hell... he even used the new wall running trick but the man got him. He wanted to use his... special trick... but couldn't. The Dragonslayer spoke. The swashbuckle gone... "Be strong kid... focus... when I say go... do it. No matter what happens be strong..."

"First... they tend to go for your pants and such if you have them. They wont waste time with the shirt unless your a girl. Even then... its easier you know..." He managed to relate this without losing his control. He kept his emotions at bay. A trick years of killing taught him.

What came next for Vincent goes without saying. He could hear his totem yelling at him to keep control.

"They often... lack care about... when their moment happens... I won't go into detail. The feeling is... its not one a human can describe...." He chuckled. "And at the end... when they are done violating you... they tend to shoot you."

Vincent... in all his life past, present, and future... had never needed to be faster then the other person in all his life. Vincent had once looted a ganger after he got shot. After that The Dragonslayer guided him.. and after 3 weeks he managed to get all the necessary items to sow a pocket in the inside of his shirt. Hidden underneath his jacket the gun, a streetline special, was in wait. "NOW!" He unzipped his jacket during the moment... and reached in with all his speed. As he was turned around he pulled out and fired a round. The man was bleeding from his forehead and fell back...

"I got... lucky... my first time." Vexboy said. "But the kids... the kids in this shipment... won't. Once they get in thats it. Game over. Im begging you miss.. ill pay whatever you ask. I need that info... you need me to.. to kill someone? Steal something? Im an adept! I can do amazing things. Let me at it! But please... Just tell me what you know..." Vexboy said finishing his story with a face of exhaustion. "Just ignore decorum this one time... back in Lone Star I was the brawn ok? My partner was the brains. Please... just tell me... I will do anything. Name your price..."
Vegas
Tuesday, 19 November, 23:56; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

Rave attempted to take a step back to distance herself from the word vomit that was spewing from the kids mouth and was met with the cold brass bar rail at the small of her back. His story registered with her and landed credibility to her own theories on just who D-Pop was, but she didn't let it show on her face.

"Desperation isn't a good look for you." Her pink lips twisted in a cruelly beautiful look of distain. She watched the young man's face fall, faltering slightly when his honest storytelling seemed to gain him no foothold in her good graces. While he squirmed, she dropped her voice for his ears only and leaned forward to block her lips from being read on camera or by anyone paying too close of attention.

"A bit of advice, kid. In a place like this, a subtle approach will do you wonders. Coming off like you did to the wrong person in here will get you killed."
Raiderj
Something in the way she said that made him feel like a kid.

"I..."

"AM..."

"NOT..."

"A"

"GODDAMN KID!" He screamed in his head.

"Desperation isn't one I practice very much Miss D-Pop. I much rather prefer the one that flashes yellow or red eyes before the bullet hits." He said suddenly gaining confidence. "Look. Ok... I have no idea how shit like this works..." He thought of something... he... examined Rave and tried to work out her behavior.
Vegas
Wednesday, 20 November, 00:03; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

She couldn't stop the subtle shake of her head as the young man in front of her cycled through varying displays of emotion, aggression and settling back into what she determined was the closest state of calm he portrayed. Extending one delicate arm out along the bartop, she gently tapped two fingers and was rewarded with a glass filled with two fingers worth of a rich amber liquid by Potyr.

She took a long sip, the whiskey trailing like liquid fire down her throat until it pooled its warmth through her belly and took the edge off her desire to show this kid just how dangerous both she and the true patrons of this club could be.

"Relax my young friend, you simply have me mistaken for someone else."

She extended her left hand, her palm facing the floor as the fingers of her right still wrapped around the glass.

"My name is Viktoria."
Raiderj
"Im... Vex. Short for Vexboy... well... Um... this is awkward. Sorry if I seem weird. This should come as no surprise but I am exceedingly weird." Vexboy looked around. "Uh... look I seriously think im outmatched in this conversation. So what happens now do I tell you everything I know or are you gonna set the many various contacts I am sure you have at your..." He sighed. "Disposal at me? Or both? Because if my opinion means anything I think we should just skip ahead to either working together or seperate ways. And its obvious one of two things are happening right now." He stopped and took a sip of a drink he had earlier.
Vegas
Wednesday, 20 November, 00:13; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

Again she raised a sculpted brow in Vexboy's direction, her face still cool in composure a moment before a burst of musical laughter escaped her pink glossy lips.

"Set all my various contacts on you? Surely you must be mistaken as to just who I am Mr. Vexboy." Her face softened further and a hint of a smile curved the corners of her mouth. "You make this seem all cloak and dagger, like I'm some kind of agent or better yet, some kind of shadowrunner. I'm not sure how you envision the two of us working together, or what your business is with the woman you're looking for, but I assure you, unless you do something to anger me or those that would look down upon that aggression, I have no plans to turn anyone against you."

She raised the glass to her lips and downed the remaining whiskey.
Raiderj
"Im that case... I think... a partnership... based... on mutual assistance. I can't last in a enviroment like this but I can hide in alleyways easy and see in the dark and..." He blinked and his irises turned red. "The heat spectrum..." He blinked again to yellow. "And Lone Star taught me how to track people in the urban sprawl. Maybe... you talk her up here and I stake her out when she leaves?" Vexboy offered.
Vegas
Wednesday, 20 November, 00:22; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

Viktoria fought to keep her brow from skyrocketing somewhere mid-forehead at the mention of the ‘Star.

Lone Star recruited this kid?

Surprise flashed in her eyes but her voice was still honey-rich and smooth when she spoke.

“Of course, your plan sounds wise. Much better for both of us really, given these circumstances. If I see the object of our affection this evening, how do you want me to contact you?”

She was careful not to offer her information up outright, but she would have to at least go through the motions of appearing to be willing to help. Her fingers strayed from the glass of whiskey she set atop the bar to the silver band of the Transys Avalon decorating her wrist.

“Your comcode, please?"
Raiderj
Vexboy took out his Renraku and gave her his code. "By all means contact me if you find her. I'll compensate you if you like. In the meantime I am gonna go home." He got up and bowed. "Saraba to anzen ga sekushīna senpai o idō shimasu." He made a call to the driver of the limo and stepped outside.
Raiderj
[ Spoiler ]
adamu
Wednesday, 20 November, 2075, 2355; Vicinity of Chalka, Downtown Seattle Seattle Metroplex

Always wanting to see before being seen, Rave has used her contacts in the club to arrive before opening. She'd had a light meal catching up with contacts among the staff, then settled into Ilia's VIP room with a couple of his usual girls who'd also arrived early. The tarts had nothing else to do with their lives. Why wouldn't they already be here, trying to get first in the door for the dark mobster's attentions. They smiled at Rave like sisters, but she knew they hated her for the connection she seemed to have with Ilia.

The VIP room overlooked the whole main floor of the club.

She did her job and scooped up what she could from the Vor rumor mill, and then got a call from Pyotr. <<She just walked in. Black and purple. Underdressed native guy with her. If you don't mind, I'd like to tell your little friend from last night, too - he's got deep pockets. Or I can shut him out, but you'll owe me one, solnishko.>>
Vegas
Wednesday, 20 November, 23:57; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

If she was the dark goddess last night in all black, tonight she was the compete vision of an angel. The tips of Rave’s ears poked out from the white strands of the platinum bob wig she wore as her body was barely encased in a white halter jumpsuit that plunged almost obscenely in the front and skimmed the small of her back. Sky-high silver platform heels made her legs appear to go on for days and her makeup was all smoke and silver. A long chain pendant dripping in glittering red stones dangled in the middle of her cleavage. She smiled to herself as the two women who flanked either side of her were incompetent at hiding their jealousy and hate beneath saccharine sweet smiles. They were all bad dye jobs, fake tits and short skirts. Rave did her best to radiate money and class that matched Viktoria’s backstory, so for the time being she bided her time quietly in VIP waiting for either Ilya or D-Pop to make their appearance since neither showed last night.

Rave used the increase in tempo of the music in the main room to disentangle herself from Ilya’s girls. She crossed the space to the open railing of the VIP room to gaze down at the main floor, looking specifically for the couple Pyotr was pointing out to her from his vantage point at the bar. Her green eyes swept the floor, and it didn’t take her long to spot the nearly painted-on purple synthleather of the one he ID’d as D-Pop and she noted the gentleman who was accompanying her as well and filed away a couple of dark, slightly grainy images for future reference.

As she leaned into the railing, and kept her gaze tracking across the main room as to keep her query as low-key as possible while keeping tabs on the pair, she dropped her voice to a whisper as she replied to Pyotr, her glossy red lips moving almost imperceptibly.

“Never would I dream of getting between you and your payday my love. Make your call and I shall do the same there after so we are both left with a win, no?”

She pushed away from the railing and made her way over towards the bar in the VIP lounge and settled on top shelf vodka on the rocks before taking a seat away from the catty tarts that still allowed her a view of the main room. She wanted to observe the pair a while longer as she decided on her method of approach.

“Pyotr, let me know when you’ve made your connection.”

With that she killed her call and subtly played her game of cat and mouse with the pair below, hoping her good luck and their possible ties to Ilya, would draw them upstairs before too long.
adamu
Wednesday, 20 November, 23:57; Chalka, Downtown Seattle

It was barely thirty seconds before Pyotr called her back as requested. <<I've put the earnest little terrier with the deep pockets onto the scent. And Vik, tread lightly with this one. She may not be a sister, but she has powerful friends and more powerful enemies.>>
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