O'Connor kept apart from the rest of the group as much as possible and ignored them outright. His demeanor remained decidedly sullen and withdrawn for the length of the trip as he brooded over old memories.

"Wonderful." Clementine lamented to herself. "It seems everyone is trying to be blocks apart, in a coffin hotel room. Looks like things would have been better if we waited to fly."

For those that knew her well enough, it was pretty clear that Clementine was in a sour mood. She quietly tends to her katana, and keeps an eye on any of the pirates moving near the group.

Sammy took a spot where she was comfortable enough and tried to get at least a couple of hours of sleep on the way to Lagos. This trip wasn't going all that well and they hadn't even arrived yet.

The time she wasn't asleep she looked around, including in the astral, as she had heard rumours about weird things happening in Africa in all the awakened jungle and she wanted to see those coming.

Clementine eyed the guards and pirates, judging for when they are most alone. She was certain the group would never be completely alone, so she picked the best time she could.

She turned to the group, but to Jane specifically and asked "So what is our exit strategy from Lagos? Depending on how quick we are, flying might still be too dangerous." The Ork woman frowns a bit with the last statement. It didn't seem to sit well with her.

Jane looked at the woman strangely, as if she couldn't quite see where the question was leading to but she didn't like the direction it pointed.

"Whatever is going on at the airport, it will be cleared up in a few days. The corps aren't going to let things get out of hand, there is too much money coming out of this place. Let's worry about finding the elf, not our travel arrangements."

Sammy's last astral search before napping happened at dusk, so she got quite a show happening on the swampy shoreline. A huge flock of birds suddenly rose up throwing off a magical glow as they danced, the effect was not completely visual, there was a hypnotic effect that could be sensed but was not really strong enough to affect any but the weakest willed metahumans.

"Nice birds," Sammy said to the ones in the group who were still awake, keeping her voice down if some were sleeping, "I wonder what those are? They are dual natured though, as they give a very nice show in the astral as well. A bit hypnotic, so either a mating thing or something to get food."

Snow chuckles at Sammy's words and immediately regrets it as it hurts her face a lot. She carefully puts her hands to her face and manages to keep her groan soft, resolving to try not to chuckle for the time being. Or laugh. Or perhaps even talk. She can keep her comments to the 'links for a bit. That decided, she grimaces, knowing that she will probably be required to speak at some point as the boat arrives in Lagos.

Sam had positioned himself where he could watch the crew. He might not be able to understand the language, but he could at least figure out the social structure by watching how they interacted, how they responded to orders, and so on. And that sort of information could be useful, though he wasn't sure how yet. When Sammy broke the silence, he glanced over, and noticed Snow's reaction. Keeping his voice low, he asked Sammy, "Looks like Con was a little rough--can you help Snow out without being obvious about it?" He then turned and resumed his surveillance of the crew.

"Unfortunately not," Sammy said, "healing spells don't work for bruises and things like that. And I would wait until we're in Lagos and out of sight of these low-lifes."

Clementine calmly replies to Jane "Immature strategy is the cause of grief. Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings. We should never go in somewhere, without at least considering our exit strategy."

"Let me rephrase, travel arrangements is on my plate, and it is under control. Your plate is piled high with finding elves, keeping me alive and yourselves out of trouble, okay? If it will settle things for you my local contact, Black Mamba, literally wrote the book on running in these parts, so logistical stuff like that shouldn't be a problem."

The amount of deck space provided to the passengers is small enough that all of them are close, even though several, including Snow, are separated by a couple of feet and she chuckles a bit at the overheard conversation. Snow keeps her head down and speaks softly. "Sorry, Jane. I do not want to be rude, but weren't words similar to that said about our transport into Lagos? It seems to me that things have not gone optimally in that regard so far. As a team, we have overcome the imperfections of the initial plan, so are you sure that you do not want to consider that we do know what we are doing?"

"If I didn't have absolute faith in your abilities, I would not have hired you. This is the point where you have to have some faith in me. Snow, you of all people should know the vagaries of travel internationally are simply an expected consequence when time is a crucial factor. Getting home after the job is over is simply not as important, for a number of reasons. At that point, it is simply a matter of contacts, cred, and caution, and we are well covered on those fronts, so if we run into any additional difficulties, we can worry about it at that time. So ka?"

The purpose of the paracritters' glow seems to be answered in the abatement of insects buzzing around the boat for a little while.

As the night falls into inky blackness, and the jungle's sounds reach a new level under the hum of the motor, you see more stars than any of you thought were ever visible. The only distraction is a small glow on the horizon that your boat is pointed towards.

Snow gives Jane a nod then gives the glow a glance, Shaking her head, she tries to find enough deck space to lay down on and tries to get some rest.

Clementine looked to the glow on the horizon, and cursed that it wasn't close enough while at the same time praying it really was their destination.

She never really took much stock in the dock hands and sailors stories about the bow of the ship being the most uncomfortable place to stay for any length of time. But now she understands full well what they meant when they said even the saltiest of dogs have been known to get a bit queasy, if not toss their lunch, if they stayed there too long. Something to do with the bow being the area most vulnerable to every little motion of the water.

Whatever it was, it sure wasn't helping anyone's "less than ideal" mood they held before even getting on the boat.

As Snow lays out, she sends a text to the team members. >>Hey, team. Please do not feel badly for me or angry at Con. I expected to be hit and actually thought that he was nicer than he needed to be. I am a big girl and can handle a bit of a beatdown from a friend. And we are friends, right? He did what was needed, as did I, in my opinion. He did not hold back and that helped sell the illusion. Thank you all for going along with it. I know from the captain's expression and by what he said that Con's value went up in his eyes every time he hit me and established his dominance. Just wanted you all to know that I appreciate what he did. Thanks. Please remember that he probably cannot hurt me more than I can repair over time.<<

O'Connor's guilt was not assuaged by Snow's message. He was unsure how much longer he could play the role she gave him. He hated what he did, but it had still come easily to him. He was a creature of violence, but he only used his skills against other fighters or to punish those that had wronged him. Beating someone unable to fight back simply to assert control was distasteful and petty in his eyes. Why was it so easy for him to do it then?

Vadik would randomly slap around his girls and their kids, such as himself, just because he could. It made that bastard feel big to hear them beg him to stop. O'Connor always told himself that he would not become like that, but had he without realizing it?

The lights of Lagos, as well as that of other ocean traffic gradually come into view. The brightly lit high-rises of Lagos Island glitter like some fabulous African blood diamond. The boat turns away from these on the final approach though, towards the port.

There is a clear divide between the district of Apapa where the port is located and the island, and it is more than the inlet that feeds Lagos Lagoon. The lights of the island makes the mainland feel so much darker, in spite of sporadic electric and torchlight.

You dock and disembark without incident, and the charade for the pirates discarded when Jane hires a young boy to guide you. He leads you to a wooden booth, surrounded by heavily armed men in light armor. She says something to one of the guards, who steps aside. You follow your employer past the wall of flesh into the booth.

Inside, a wrinkled ebony-skinned man with a cap of tightly curled grey hair sits at a makeshift desk. A large sign hangs behind him, with lettering in twelve different languages. In AR, a similar sign pops up, with “Hawala” spelled out in a dozen tongues.


“E káàrò,” the man says to Jane, nodding to all of you.

“E káàrò,” Jane replies, using a Yoruba linguasoft, then hands him a small slip of paper. As he reads it, Jane turns to you. “Your per diem—five days at 250 nuyen per day—has been deposited in the hawala system here. You can withdraw all or some of it now. As I said before you’ll want to carry some, ah,”—she pauses, searching for the right word—“ah, currency, with you. Out in the city, most people won’t take electronic cred.”

The hawala nods. “I see you each have a deposit of 1,250 nuyen on account. That is equal to, hm … 25,000 naira. I can give you all of this, or if you wish to leave some on deposit, any other hawala in the city can release your funds to you. I’ll give you markers to show them, which will include your remaining account balances.”

Snow watches her bag carefully as it is removed from the boat and claims it immediately. Her time in the slums of Vladivostok have prepared her for what she is experiencing here, but inured her to it. The smell of unwashed bodies vies with that of a fetid sea corrupted by human waste and all manner of flotsam and jetsam. She sees several dead birds floating on the water and the fact that someone has not taken them for food is a telling point. She stays close to Con as they walk, feeling the eyes of the men they pass mentally undressing her. She feels pretty sure that roaming alone is going to be high on the "Bad Idea list.

Inside the booth, she watches the exchange between Jane and the Hawatha man and listens to him speak, translating as needed for the others. When he is finished, she looks at him. "How much naira would it be prudent to carry with us?

Sammy was used to the heat, but the heat and the moisture was quite a lot. It seemed that there was mould everywhere. And weapons. Even in the Barrens you didn't see this many weapons carried openly. Clearly the dangers weren't exagerated. And from the look, she was glad she had her magical shower spell, as it seemed quite necessary here.

After getting her bag, she followed Jane to the Hawala. When she heard the numbers, she did the quick calculation in her head. 20 ... naria was it, to the nuyen. Well, whatever the maximum safe amount was, she wasn't going to run around in this city with heaps of cash. They were rich looking foreigners, they would be targets wherever they would go. Let's not add to that by flashing cash all over the place.

Sam was generally confident in his ability to get what he needed without actually having cash on hand...or even available, in many cases. He was, however, still trying to adjust to the new languages, and although he was able to understand the greeting that Jane and the "banker" had exchanged, he hadn't been able to work out what the pirates were saying to each other. It was going to take a while before he would really feel at home in this new area. Taking the lead, he stepped forward to the hawala and said, "Emi yoo gba ẹgbẹrun marun."--"I'll take five thousand" in Yoruba; better to get the practice in when it didn't matter much.

O'Connor wasn't all that phased by their surroundings. He'd seen similiar in Redmond. He did note that the conditions here on the edge of the city were comparable to the deeper parts of the Barrens, *Guess bordering 'civilization' does have benefits. Wonder how bad the inner city is here.*

Once the old man asked how much they wanted, he put up a hand, "One sec, omae." He poked his head out of the hut to address the guards, "Any of you speak english?" There was a long pause, "Didn't think so. Snow, translate for me...please." Courtesy didn't come naturally to O'Connor by any stretch. His guilt compelled him, however, to go the exta mile, even if she had been the one to create the situation. Through Snow he asked, "There a weapons market around here? What would you say tricking out a pair of AKs would run?"

The Hawala hands Sam and Clem their tokens and naira. To Snow he says "Your companions seem to have the right mind set, unless you have a shopping trip in mind."

Outside, the boy who guided you here answers Snow's question before the guards do, not that they seemed inclined to speak anyway. "I got you Boss! Best shop in the Lagos! I can take you!"

O'Connor high fived the street urchin, "Sounds good little man. What ya name kid?" He turned back to the wrinkled banker, "Cash me out." At the side glances he got, O'Connor replied, "What? Anyone trying to collect on me is getting popped in the face. Simple as that."

"I'll also take 5000," Sammy said. She thought that walking around with a lot of cash wouldn't be a good idea in this town and she could always get more later. The Hawala system was reputed to be quite safe.

"Okay, where to next," she asked Jane when she also got her money and the tokens.

Snow translates for Con as requested and smiles when the boy seems to speak enough English to be helpful. She turns back to the man and also requests 5000 to carry with her. When done, she looks at the others. "Anyone up for some rest in a real bed? My muscles are a bit sore."

She steps up to Con and puts a hand on his arm. "Hey, thanks for.........well, thanks. I am sorry for putting you through that. How can I make it up to you?"

O'Connor looked away from Snow, not meeting her eyes. The bruising and swelling would be a constant reminder to him this entire trip, "I'd say I owed you an apology, but this was your play." He cast a quick look to see if any of the others were paying them any attention. He spoke softly so hopefully only Snow heard, "Please don't make me do this again. I don't think I can."

Snow realizes that Con has not removed her hand from his arm so leaves it there as she leans forward and whispers. "I did not realize it would hurt you so much and I am sorry for putting you through that. I will not do so again unless you think it necessary." She quickly leans closer and kisses him on the cheek then pulls back away. "Thank you for being you."

O'Connor's eyes widened in suprise at Snow's words. He tried to mask it by giving an amused huff, "That's probably the first and only time someone will thank me for being me." Emotionally heavy conversations weren't his forte, so O'Connor turned back to the kid, "What time do shops open 'n' close around here?"

Jane steps between O'Conner and his new friend, "Later for that, we need to get settled in our room before we lose the reservation. Hey kid, take us to the Porto Novo."

The Porto Novo “Luxury Hotel” has precious little to do with luxury—unless you compare it to the slums you went through to get here. The five-story building is a U-shape around a central courtyard. It is made of cinderblocks that were whitewashed two or maybe three decades ago, but now the walls are a uniform red from the pervasive dust that coats everything. Still, the only way into the building is through a sturdy-looking gate into the courtyard, which is guarded by a pack of FNHAR –toting thugs. There are no windows on the first two floors, and inside more armed guards patrol the hallways—well, at least they’re in the hallways. The guard on your floor—an ebony-skinned human man—is slouched back in a rickety chair, smoking a fragrant cigarette, his teeth stained yellow from years of smoking. He introduces himself to you as peaceful, which seems strange until you realize the English word is actually his name. Otherwise, he speaks Yoruba. You also quickly figure out that for a sizable tip, he’ll make sure anything you leave in your rooms stays in there. He also offers to get you “Anything else you might need, boss.” Inside your room, the hotel has a “wet bar,” which is a wooden cupboard with bottled water and a jug of what you’re told is home-brewed palm wine. The manager, a slick operator, already told you he can provide bottled beer or UCAS soft drinks for an extra charge. You’ve also discovered that his boast that his rooms are “insect free” means there is a dog-sized lizard sleeping on your bed.

“Every room,” he tells you, in broken English. “High class, yes? No iba here.” (Your linguasoft translates iba as illness, or perhaps malaria, or perhaps VITAS.) While you’re watching, a cockroach the size of your fist crawls out from under the bed. Without opening its eyes, the lizard snaps out an incredibly long tongue, snatches up the cockroach, and swallows it, almost too fast to see. The manager turns to you, beaming, and says, “See? No insects!”

There’s a shared bathroom with working chemical toilets on each floor, but no running water. Apparently, the manager spends all his money on security guards and not housekeepers, since everything seems to be covered in a layer of red grime.

Grimacing, Jane says to you, “Charming, eh? But I’ve been told it’s the safest place to stay outside the Island, and we don’t have the budget to go there. I’ve got some calls to make and I need to check in with my employer. After that … well, I guess we should get started. Give me fifteen minutes and we can go to the kid's market. I can already tell I didn’t bring enough ammo for my Predator.”

Snow has remained quiet during the walk to the hotel and the tour of the room by the manager. After he leaves, she sits down to wait while Jane makes her calls. "I am uncomfortable leaving my medical supplies in the room while we are out. Does that make sense to anyone? And before I make another mistake, I think we should at least discuss the relationships that we want to portray to the public between the men and women on the team."

O'Connor gave Jane a sour look at her interruption, "Excuse you, I wasn't done talking to my new little homie." He put out his arm to get Jane to take a step back. He took a knee so that he was eye level with the boy, "Sorry about her. She doesn't have the best manners." O'Connor took the opportunity to snicker of the fact that HE got to drek talk someone else's manners. He refocused on the boy, "You were about to tell us your name."

************************

O'Connor had taken a shining to their guide, and invited the kid to stick with him for the time being. Lagos appeared similiar to Redmond in several regards, and death stalked around every corner of his hometown. They seemed to be building a repour, and there was no need to waste a, so far, useful guide.

Once at the hotel, O'Connor and the kid were probably the only ones impressed with the amenities. The giant bug eating lizard was cool as hell. O'Connor lamented that Seattle was probably far too cold for such a creature. He could really use one of these guys in his place. He turned to the manager, "That lizard's dope as drek, omae." O'Connor started searching under the bed for another cockroach, "Lil' Homie, help me find another bug. I wanna see if he can catch one outta the air."

************************

Once Jane left to make her calls and Snow began her discussion, O'Connor dug out his armorer's kit and layed out his weapons on the floor, "While we talk this over, I wanna do maintenance on all our weapons. Conditions here are rough as frag and I won't have us dealing with jammings or misfires during a fight. Hell, I'm planning on tricking out those AKs we picked up so that Clem and I have go-to weapons until the real mission starts."

Snow hands over her predator to Con. "Thank you for doing this."

She looks around counting doors. "Anyone know the sleeping arrangements?"

Sammy had grown up in a place not that different from this one, but over the years, she had gotten used to a bit more comfort. At least there was security and with a couple of hours of work, she could make a ward and make it more secure.

"At least someone's happy," she murmured to Snow when she saw O'Connor.

She also handed over her predator to O'Connor, but she kept her katana herself. That just needed some cleaning, but she could do that herself.
"I probably also need extra ammo," she said to Jane, "but something tells me we can find it around here somewhere. Even in East LA there are not that many weapons. I'll also set up a ward around the rooms. They're not all that big, so I'll probably be able to put them all in one ward. It'll take about 5 hours."

Sam passed his Self-Defender and the Roomsweeper to Con, then turned to the group. "The real question is going to be how to track down information on the elf. This place doesn't look the sort to have a directory that we can pull up, and he's likely to be using a different alias than the one we've got. The Johnson said our primary role was security, but that we're also to help with the investigation. So hopefully she's got some sort of plan. And without knowing what her plan is, it's hard for us to know how to present ourselves. I could go with the 'rich socialite with a thing for old artifacts' role, with body guards and such, but if she decides to be an archaeology professor organizing an expedition, people will realize very quickly that at least one of us isn't telling the truth. But from what we've seen so far, it looks like people will generally be expecting a man to be in charge. Sorry, ladies." He shrugged apologetically, then continued. "I've picked up some of one of the local languages, but as we were walking, I could hear several others. I don't know how much Snow's software can handle, but I'm going to be a little...constrained. Not sure I'll be able to pull anything like the movie director bit back on the mountain," he said, with a smile at Sammy, Con, and Clem, who'd all been there to see the ruse he'd pulled on the sheriff.

O'Connor started his maintenance with Snow's Predator, "Our stuff should be safe here as long as we bribe that guy out in the hallway. Jane's suppose to be covering bribes and such, so see if she'll spring for the extra security." He only half paid attention to the conversation from that point on, focusing instead on his work. After finishing disassembly and inspecting the parts, he gave a rueful huff, "Jesus, when was the last time you had this thing serviced Snow?" He looked between Starlet and Torley, "I'm betting your weapons are in similar sorry states. This might take awhile."

'Lil Homie's' name turns out to be Jai, but he seems quite happy with Lil Homie. He is definitely uncomfortable being in the room with you, the looks he has gotten from the hotel staff make it clear they think he doesn't belong either. He stays within arm's reach of O'Conner at all times, but seems to understand Jane's place as the team lead. While the weapons are being cleaned he is paying close attention to what the gunsmith is doing, but not in an obtrusive way.

Clementine has maintained her stoic bodyguard role, though the three who have known her for a bit recognize this is due as much to professionalism as it is to serious discomfort of the situation. Even in the short walk from the dock, there were a dozen different examples to be seen of the alien culture you have come to. The oppressive poverty, the casual inhumanity and toxic conditions combine to make the places that O'Conner and Starlet grew up in look like nice middle class suburbs, that people can live seemingly normal lives in all of this is slightly maddening. Clem doesn't even begin to relax in the room, she is perched by a window, eyes on the courtyard and the street beyond. She does pass weapons to O'Conner if the offer comes but only one at a time.

When Jane rejoins you, she makes sure that you all still have an image of Samriel to refer to, "We should look for him in areas that foreigners frequent, check with guides or vendors, maybe find a local hacker to check any online registries. We may want to split up and cover more ground."

Snow nods at O'Connor as he hands her pistol back after cleaning it. "Thank you, Con, that was very nice of you."

When Jane comes in, she listens to her for a bit and nods. "I am not sure that I recommend splitting into more than twos or maybe even threes. Especially since not all of us can speak the lingo. Make any sense?"

Once O'Connor noticed Lil' Homie taking an interest in his maintenance routine, he handed the kid one of the AKs. O'Connor picked up the other one, "First step with any weapon is to make sure its not loaded. Always assume a gun is loaded, always. First, put the safety on. Next, remove the magazine, like so. Then pull back the charging handle and visually make sure there isn't a round chambered. From there..." O'Connor showed, step by step, how to disassemble and clean the rifle. Afterwards O'Connor pushed his armorer kit between him and Lil' Homie so that the kid could give it a shot.

He tuned back into the group conversation once Jane came back. He nodded in agreement with Snow, "Probably shouldn't split into more than two teams. Snow and Torley split between the two since they're the ones that speak the lingo. Me and Clem split as the heavy hitters. Starlet should be on the opposite team as me since we both come from places, not this bad maybe, but close enough to pick up things the rest won't. Torley and I have to be split since this place is backwards as frag about women. So in that scenario Team A would be Jane, Snow, and me. Team B would be Torley, Starlet, and Clem. Anything wrong with that?"

Snow shakes her head, unable to come up with anything to fault the proposed division. "I can agree to that. Now, do we divide the city up as well so we don't overlap our efforts?"

Sam hadn't expected that level of analysis from Con. You think you know a guy... he thought to himself. He also didn't mind being separated from Jane; she still rubbed him the wrong way periodically, though not as much as during their first meeting. He nodded. "That sounds good to me, Con. Snow, is there anything we can do so you can keep an eye on our group?"

"Seems like most of us need to pick up ammo.
So we can all start at the weapons market and spread out from there. Before we leave, are we bribing the guard outside to keep our room secure? And speaking of weapons Clem, you want to throw in on modding these AKs? Or do just want to keep your's stock?" The team, specifically Torley, may have noticed that O'Connor's body language had changed dramatically since he started cleaning their weapons. Normally O'Connor was prone to frenetic movement, unable to stay still for any duration of time. His eyes always darted about in search of some threat. Since starting however, his movements have been calm and deliberate, and his eyes were focused and diligent. He handed back weapons as he finished. Once done with the team's weapons he put his hand out expectantly to Jane for her weapon.

Snow nods at Sam. "Sure, maybe." She laughs. "It depends on the noise in the area, to be honest. I have the codes to your 'links and I would like to pass out two of my little drone buddies to each team. If you find anything that warrants surveillance, you can put one of them out and I can try to monitor its feed."

She watches Con carefully, noting that he seems a bit more calm and thinks to herself. **Quiet before the storm, probably.**

Clem's attention never leaves the window, but she does reply to Con.

"We should keep the mods basic and universal, and pay it out of the group fund. The others should be carrying longarms here, even if they can't use them, especially if Sam's going to keep trying to act badass with those little toys of his." It would be a truly monumental feat for her to be joking, maybe she was just tired.

O'Connor shrugged at Clem, "Don't got the tools to do anything fancy. So we need to mod our two AKs, and pick up four more for the rest of the team. Then throw in various types of ammo for all the weapons. We may be bleeding the team fund dry after our shopping trip."

After servicing Jane's pistol and handing it back, he asked, "You really sure you want to hit the ground running Boss Lady? Going out into slums this late is a sketch deal. We'll probably use up all our ammo on gangers and feral ghoul packs just getting to the market and at minimum have to mercy kill Torley along the way."

Snow nods her head. "I agree with Con on that. I have seen the slums of Vladivostok at night, which is one of the most horrid places on earth and would not want to go out here. Besides, some rest is warranted, I think."

"That's fine, we can wait a few hours." Jane checked the action on her pistol, load it, safes it and holsters with a nod of thanks.

O'Connor stood up and stretched to work out the kinks in his legs and back. He motioned to the door, "Gonna walk off the kinks, be back in a bit." He left to prowl about, making note of the layout of the floor they were on and the number of access points. He also went outside to check the number of exteral entryways into the building. After checking the building out, O'Connor went to the front desk to see what the selection and prices of the bottled beer was. He was hesitant to trust the local water. He also checked to see if there were maps of the city for sale.

Snow nods and looks at the others then leaves the room, following Con. "Hey, you probably need help less than anyone else here, but no one should leave the room alone." She walks near him without saying another word unless he initiates the conversation.

Lil' Homie had quickly followed after O'Connor when he left. When Snow followed suit, O'Connor motioned towards the kid, "Whatcha talkin' 'bout? I got my main man with me. You're free to join us though." O'Connor left it unsaid that Snow's attractiveness would draw more trouble than if it was just him and Lil' Homie. Snow was the easiest person on the team to talk to outside of needling Clem, but he didn't know what to say after what he did to her. He mainly talked to Lil' Homie to test what the kid saw during the perimeter inspection.

He bought four six packs of beer at the front desk. He popped one immediately for himself and another for Lil' Homie. He offered one to Snow.

Once they were back on their floor, O'Connor held out one of the six packs to the guard Peaceful, "Mind answering a few questions about the city?"