Tamarind regretfully leaves her drones in the van. Well, other than Beauty. First she pulls out her tools and removes the bird's taser. At the least it is still a good set of eyes, and she feels better having it with her.

When they get to the room and see the letter she really wish that she'd been able to bring in Stitch, as she'd rather that the drone open the envelope with its arm. But then she thinks a bit more, and concludes that she should manage to open it with Beauty.

"I'm sure I'm being paranoid, but Raven or Bobby can you check for magic on the letter?" Meanwhile she gives it a hard check for matrix presence. Presuming that there is no magic or matrix on it, she will open the envelope, then command Beauty to reach in and pull out the contents of the envelope.

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief, when they make it back to the casino without any incident. She was a little worried, that something would happen outside, but everything stayed quiet. Probably the quiet before the storm, she wonders. Something is going to happen at some point. Hopefully, it is not going to be too bad.

"Yes, of course," the witch replies to Tamarind's request, and shifts her senses to the astral to check the room, and especially the letter, for any magical shenanigans.

Bobby answered Lysander:
<<Thanks, I'll get in contact with them. And yes, those offers are well below what we are going to sell for. 50k is currently the highest offer.>>

Leaving Raven to look at the envelope, Bobby gave Frisson and the Collector a quick call: <<The auction for the card currently stands at 50k. Are you interested in matching?>>

Frisson comments >> I cannot match these only got 15k for this, but I am reliable, and my money is already with your contact. The collector says 55k, but you deliver the card to me.

As much as a technological and magical examination is concerned, the letter is genuine. It reads, "I wish you a pleasant stay at the Gates, Tammie."

"Well, we have the first offer above what we would get paid, any suggestions what I should answer?"

Bobby asked the others.

"Leave the cookies," Mato says, scowling. At some core level he realizes that this is a hotel and that the hotel staff have access to the room - how else could they clean it - but right now it seems like an operational security risk.

"Let's decline housekeeping for the time being. Or any sort of hotel service, for that matter," he suggests. "Anything directed toward us or specific to us has the potential to be compromised."

He holds up the digital encryption key. "If we trust the safe deposit box then we're the weakest link at the moment. I'll tuck this away in the smuggling compartment unless someone can suggest somewhere more secure." There's a hidden slit in his pants that gives him easy access to the concealed compartment in his left cyberleg.

He goes over to the cookies and uses his olfactory sensors to detect if there's anything amiss. He also uses his chemsniffer ring that he got for the job at Pike Hall.

As to Bobby's question, Mato asks, "Well how are we handling the auction? Are we doing a first-price sealed-bid auction, where everyone only gets one opportunity to bid? Or a more traditional auction where we're the auctioneers and we're going to constantly update bidders about the current winning price?

"The latter gets us the best price, but the challenge is that we might not select the best price. I think we want the flexibility to steer the card to an intended recipient. If that's not the highest bidder - and if we've effectively informed everyone what the highest bid is - then there could be complications.

"I would say don't respond. Give us the most flexibility to slip the card into the stream when and where we want it. To avoid ruffling any feathers we can always claim that proffered payment was unique, or alternative, or something better suited to our needs than straight nuyen. Might be a lie, but could help the losers save face."

"Agreed, with what we are doing, money becomes a secondary thing to optimize, primary is figuring out how to get the card where we want it to." She was pretty sure that the room was safe, but there was no need to state to say the 'where' out loud.

Tamarind tried not to scowl. It doesn't tend to put people in a good mood. But this had all the hallmarks of having to make a hard decision, the kind where people's basic assumptions came into play.

"We are agreed that the primary goal is getting this to where we want it to go, correct? I mean, I need money, but we took a contract and all."

Rachel raises an eyebrow at the comment about the cookies.

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose."

She thinks it is being overly paranoid, but the others have been doing this for quite a while longer, so maybe they have had their share of bad experiences.

"As for the housekeeping, we could also ask them to always send the same person. So, if someone else shows up, we know that something is wrong."


"As for the auction, this isn't only about money, but also reputation. We need to tread carefully here."

Bobby shrugged: "Fine by me, I'd have put a fixed time limit on the auction and said the best offer wins at the end of the day. Which one that is, we don't have to disclose. Personally, I don't want them to have too much time to get their ducks in a row to attack us. We just have to do more, to advertise the time limit. That should light a fire under Nightmare's ass - if he actually wants the card. I'm less and less sure, that Vala has all the facts on that."

Mato nods. "That sounds like a good plan. Fixed time limit. 'Best bid wins' with no definition of what constitutes 'best'."

He drums his cyberfingers about Bobby's last point.

"If Nightmare doesn't want the card then this whole job is shot. If Nightmare isn't going to actively pursue it then... we'd have to trick the Halloweeners into taking it. That's a steeper mountain to climb."

Mato wonders if terrain metaphors mean anything to Bobby, who can just turn into an eagle or a mountain goat or anything else that's oblivious to topography.

"No, let's assume that Nightmare does want it, if only to embarrass us or because it thinks that we don't want the free spirit to have it.

"Who else should we tell? Five Fingers Gau?" This is a local talismonger and jerk. "I wouldn't mind if Nightmare plucked it out of his smoldering fingers."

He looks to Tamarind but then realizes she might not know that many people in Seattle yet.

He then turns to Raven. "Do you know any talismongers? They might know people who would want such a thing."

"I asked her about those cards before, and her recommendation was to stay away from them," Rachel replies.

"I really doubt she has the kind of clientele for this."

Mato nods at being reminded of that exchange.

"I feel like we know more people that this," he says mostly to himself, although he acknowledges that he's a part of the problem.

If AM were here she could slip something to Janet Dime, he thinks. Jawsey could drop some info to Comcomly, maybe even McElroy from Pike Hall. But he's not going to say this part out loud because it might sound like Tamarind and Raven aren't as useful as the absent members of the agency. Hell, in this instance Mato isn't feeling very useful either.

"To Bobby's earlier point, should we get some surveillance up in Redmond?" he asks. "Tamarind, a pigeon, or Raven, a spirit? It seems like we should be keeping the pulse of the Funhouse, and maybe HQ as well. That will give us some clues about what to expect. Bobby, what about that shoeseller who is paying you back over time?"

"That guy has as much contacts as a typical mall shoe seller who is married with kids. Forget about it. I'm giving Andrew, our Yakuza contact, a heads-up.
While we are at it: Hey Tamarind, how good are you at spoofing? We should hack one of the low level comms of one of the Halloweeners. With that we can spoof a message to Carn-Evil that tells him about our auction."

Bobby followed through on this announcement:

<<Hey Andrew, as a courtesy to you: We are at the moment conducting an auction for a client. Merchandize is the Fool from a certain deck of cards. The auction will run for the next 16 hours, best bid wins - just in case you have a boss who's interested in that kind of stuff.
Best
Bobby>>

"What?" Mato asks Bobby, utterly confused.

"I'm not saying to get the shoeseller to sell the card. I'm saying let's get him to report on what's happening at SIS. Like, 'are the Halloweeners on a rampage,' that sort of thing."

Mato scowls, wondering how that suggestion could have been misconstrued, especially since he had also suggested one of Tamarind's pigeons and one of Raven's spirits.

"Oh sorry, my focus was somewhere else. Yeah I can ask him to keep us informed. Though I don't see why - unless he catches the bad guys carrying a barrels of petrol into our flat. And even then there's nothing I would want him to do. Anything less than a full fledged spirit won't be able to protect our home."

Bobby replied, still typing away.

Andrew responds very quickly >> Thanks, Bobby San but I am not particularly interested in playing cards; is there anyone specific you want me to pass a message to?


@A bit later that night 23:30 Frisson texts shortly after. >> I got a vibe that you are looking into other offers. I wanted to change your mind, so I send you a few <fire emoji> pictures to get you in the right mood for a deal.


As I promised, I am the most exciting to deal with - I am not like these boring collectors that would put your card on display. So what do you say? 15k for a clean sell?

There are no dirty pictures, though; the pictures are of buildings. A closer inspection shows the Five Finger Talismonger shop, Cutty's gym, sys HQ, and the Gates casino.

Bobby texted back to Andrew: <<Just wanted to include you - no pressure. Maybe someone in the syndicate is interested in the Tarot cards.>>

Bobby texted Frisson back: <<... you are an idiot if you think that would work. We are a cuttout for the seller, exactly to prevent a situation like that. We are a detective agency - with a full mage and a matrix wizard on retainer. Targeting our contacts... You have no idea what a world of trouble you'll be calling down on yourself. Hand in a better offer or lose this number.>>

"I was thinking that the shoeseller could report on neighborhood activity. Wouldn't have them do anything other than be eyes and ears. Certainly don't intervene in any way."

He's actually pleased when the threat comes in from Frisson. If anything it's almost a relief that things are starting to play out as expected.

Bobby replies quickly though.

"Woah, let's string them along a little bit," Mato suggests, perhaps too late. "A threat like that is a way for us to save face if that's the best way to get the card to Nightmare.

"SIS HQ, who cares. Cutty's Gym is mostly concrete and metal so there's little to burn. Besides Cutty, of course. Wouldn't want him to get torched. Five Finger Talismonger shop doesn't mean much to me but it might to you. Gates Casino, I'd like to see them try." He rotates his shoulders and rolls his head around his neck. "We could get some exercise."

Mato taps his chin thoughtfully.

"Really what we should be doing is counteroffering. Break the rule and tell them what the bidding is at. Give credence to the threat but tell them that with the financial resources available to their backer that they should be more competitive. We're willing to discount off the top bid but not that much. They think we're soft humanitarians just because we're not psychopathic pyromaniacs. We can't be wholly callous but nor can we walk from an extra 40K. That's the line we should walk."

He has another thought.

"If we sell it to Gau, the Halloweeners will likely extort it out of him. That might get us a better price, and help the pretense that we don't want the Halloweeners to have it." He holds his hands open to leave the idea hanging in the air. This would be putting Gau's hoop on the fishing hook, but it's known that Mato doesn't have a high opinion of the man so he's willing to suggest it.

Frisson responds with a selfie and texts >> Oh, I like you already! You are invited to drink with me at the bar on the first floor.

She is caucasian, perhaps French, a slim blonde elf in a black biker jacket, and is holding a bottle of an imported beer, and her smile seems inviting.

"Does anyone else want to meet Frisson? I'm not much on bartering, but I'm great at not getting intimidated."

Bobby asked the others while he got ready to go down to the bar.

Mato spends a moment thinking about the best way to handle this.

"I'll go too," he says, reasonably confident in his ability to resist her feminine wiles because apparently his "type" is a dark-haired Latina elf in business clothes rather than this blonde biker chick.

He debates the best approach for Raven and Tamarind.

"Raven, do you want to work the rest of the bar to look for the blonde's backup? Anyone paying attention to me and Bobby instead of you is suspicious.

"Tamarind, on overwatch?"

His tone indicates that these are suggestions rather than instructions. He looks to see if anyone has better ideas.

Rachel nods to Mato.

"I guess, I could do that... but I need a moment to change. Judging by the pictures she sent, she might have seen all of us before."

She then looks into a fitting dress and appearance for the casino bar.

"Alright, I'll go ahead once you have disguised yourself. Let's see if this strongarming firebrand isn't actually working for Nightmare - that would make this whole thing pretty easy. But I don't think we have so much luck."

Once everyone was ready, Bobby went down to the bar with Mato in tow.

The bar is busy, and the gambling floor is packed mostly with low-level suits looking for some thrill after work. Frisson stands out as neither rich nor trying to look that way. She would have been more in place in Redmond than in the Gates, but you have never seen her in Redmond. She does not seem particularly alert, and as far as you can tell nobody is watching over her.

Bobby didn't care too much about bars, but he liked the free peanuts. So he went over, took a bowl of them with him and plopped himself next to the woman.

"Good evening. Peanuts?
So, tell me, who do you represent and why should we give you the card? If you lack liquid funds, our client is willing to consider alternative trades, but you have to make it good."

The woman sizes Bobby and comments without recognition , "A card? is that a euphemism for something?" and then adds "I know what peanuts are, and Yes, please." she takes a handful and mouths them in a most unladylike manner.

Bobby frowned: "It seems I've made a mistake - good evening." He got back up to leave.

Frisson sighs. "You make it too easy." she takes a sip from her beer and places it loudly on the bar. Frisson she says to introduce herself.

Bobby is as direct as a charging bull. Which, given his propensity to shapeshift, is not entirely out of the question.

"We're not really into games, Frisson," Mato says, utterly failing to introduce himself.

"What we have from you are photos that, from our perspective, constitute threats. Given that, we're going to cut straight to the chase."

Mato looks her over, sweeping her with his radar sensors to see if she smuggled any weapons past the guards. He also works her over with his olfactory sensors, sniffing for any explosives or accelerants. She looks a little more street than he would have assumed that the Gates would permit, but perhaps the low-level suits on the gambling floor like having a blond in a biker jacket to schmooze with when they come to the bar to drink away their losses. Mato imagines it as a curious mixture of aspirational gambling combined with slumming flirtation.

"So," he says, "to business. Why are you the most exciting to deal with? What's your pitch, or is the only halo around your lowball offer just more veiled threats?"

Bobby turned to Mato: "You sure, you want to talk to her? Sounds to me like a waste of time. Punk ass kid doesn't have a clue - likely just a dupe for someone else who knows what will happen to her if this goes sideways."


Bobby gave her the coldest glare he could muster, while letting a spark of electricity dance across his knuckles.

Frisson takes another sip of her beer and then orders another one by tapping on the empty bottle. If Bobby's intimidation technique worked it did not have the desired effect as Frisson's grin widens, and she feels excited by the prospect of danger made more apparent by Bobby's spark of electricity. So, tough guys, what do you drink? she says and invites them to sit with a small tap on the stool next to her.

Rachel is heading for the bar a bit later. Her hair is now a flaming red, which goes well with her green eyes, and worn open.

The tiny white dress she is wearing nicely underlines her attractive figure, and is expensive enough to fit the classy environment. Despite wearing a pair of high heels, she is still pretty small. Nonetheless, Rachel will likely gather some attention, as intended. And she is certainly not averse to some flirting.

While looking around for a place to sit, she keeps her eyes open for those, who do not seem to be interested in her entrance, but rather what is going on with Mato and Bobby and the blonde biker lady at the bar.

Mato wanted to click his tongue but he resisted. He has met this type before, the ones drawn to the bad boys. If she liked growling bikers then she'd probably love a snarling Bobby.

Pre-cyber, Mato had fantasized about all the women who would fall into his arms once he was strong. It turned out the be the opposite: the cyberlimbs were a big turn-off for most women. But at that point his humanity had largely left him - along with his arms and legs - so he found himself not caring anymore.

~~~

Frisson pats the stool next to her to invite them to sit down.

"No, thank you," he says somewhat more politely than he intended. "As I said, no games. This isn't about whether you can get us to sit or subtly start to do what you want us to do. This is your opportunity to make a pitch to two impatient men who are unamused and unamusing. The clock is ticking."

There not being much that she could add at the bar, Tamarind stayed in the hotel room, and tried to set surveillance in motion. If Frisson already had a good read on their location she had to assume that the van had also been made, so driving close to the Jack O'Lantern was off the table. But she'd packed up almost all of her drones into the van, so as not to leave valuables where they were vulnerable.

The ideal observation tool would have been Lazy and/or Mimic, which were designed to loiter almost indefinitely. But inflating the balloons was not a subtle process, and their traveled so slowly that it was best to launch them reasonably close to the target. To set something up now, without making a spectacle, the Pelliper (delivery drones) were the best solution. They just needed to get out of the garage.

She called Tammy <<I need to send a couple of drones out from our van down in the parking garage. Can you arrange for the door to be opened for them, or put me in touch wiith whoever can authorize that?>>

Then she reached out to Saumya, owner of "Dumplings? Dumplings!" in Touristville. She'd done delivery work for Saumya the last time she'd been in town and had reached out to her upon her return. <<Hi Saumya, could I rent some drone charging time from you, when you have an outlet available? I have a couple of standard delivery drones that are going to be out past curfew and need somewhere to rest up occasionally>>

Then she started plotting out fake delivery runs that would keep the Jack o-Lantern under observation most of the time, without having the drones hovering there too obviously.

Frisson shrugs . I did not invite you to make a pitch; I wanted to do some networking and make friends. She handles Mato a black business card with her street name in gold letters and a comlink number different from the one used for correspondence. I am new in town and don't have many contacts yet; you guys seem like good people to know.

To not disappoint you, let me think about it... Why should you accept my offer when other collectors have better bids." she genuinely takes a moment to straighten her thoughts and then speaks very fluently to the point that you are uncertain if she is intoxicated.


My employer is evil and solves problems with excessive violence. I don't like violence, and I am new in town and would like to establish my reputation as a good problem solver. I figured I could offer you my retainer to try and buy the card, losing 15k but gaining a reputation that would lend me new jobs in a new city where nobody knows me. A reasonable trade from my side - but what about you?

She thinks a bit and taps the bar nervously with her hand, jerking her head uncomfortably to try and look at Mato despite the height distance of a standing orc vs. a seated elf. I Hate to break it to you, stranger, but all your other offers get people killed or injured. It is a question of values..." she says, and her speech grows more confident.

What kind of people are you? Do you care about the possible consequences? Boss can strike you pretty close to home, would making more money make up for it? Do you compromise to preserve your relationships with friends and clients - or do you take the highest bid and watch the fireworks? Short-term gains or long-term relationships, think about it. and with a hint of a smile, she adds ...and think of me if you need a woman of my caliber. looking at Bobby or if mister electricity wants someone to buy him a drink. she takes a big gulp of her beer, her cheeks are blushed, and she seems a bit spent from the mental load.

@Tamarind
Tammie sent back a digitally signed authorization for the suite area and nongambling parts of the hotel.
Saumya texts >> Sure thing, I'd be happy for your business.


@Raven
Your appearance attracts quite a bit of male attention. While numerous guys are looking at Frisson also, especially now that she is talking to two considerably taller and angry males, none of them seems like a backup. Most are mildly intoxicated or are playing slots and glancing at the events from time to time.

Bobby raised an eyebrow and went for a bluff: "Have you done a lot of work for the Halloweeners before?"
He was totally focused on Frission, not noticing anything about his surroundings, looking for a sign that he had hit right with his guess.

She shrugs "Sadly, there were no pixies and unicorns at the Lantern." Bobby finds no indication of deception.

Authorization code in hand, or at least in RCC, Tamarind activates her drones and puts them to work. Two little bugs crawl onto the delivery drones and cling on, while Auntie 1 and 2 hover into Pelliper 1 and 2 respectively. She puts other drones on observation duty to make sure that nothing untoward happens when the van doors are open, then opens the doors and flies out the drones. She sends the code to the garage doors so that the drones are permitted to leave, then she has them quickly climb, then arc towards touristville. Once there they both stop in at Dumpling! Dumpling? but not to actually pick up an order, purely as cover. Then she sends them off on the previously planned paths, zigging and zagging around Redmond. At times they dip down, as if to deliver, but never so close to the ground or window or doorway that they are too much danger. And when they are in a good viewing position for The Lantern, they slow down enough to open their storage compartments and let out their Auntie (Horizon Flying Eyes). The flying eyes hover for a bit while the delivery drones are out of line of sight, then get picked up on the next past to rest for a bit and save on battery life

Anyone carefully watching the sky would realize that there are not so many deliveries in that part of Redmond, but it should take a careful observer. And it means that she has near constant observation through a drone with half decent sensors. She strokes Beauty as she admits than none of the rest of her flock have nearly the same resolutoin as does her perfect chrome bird, but they'll have to do.

Mato isn't sure that this all adds up.

<<Let's string her along while prodding her for information>> he suggests to Bobby. <<If she really is working for Nightmare - and that's a big if that I am a long way from allowing - then getting the card to her would be an easy way to complete their assigned task.>>

But, yet, it is so easy that he can't help but question it. He thinks that it's just as likely that Frisson knows about their task and is trying to con the card from them by pretending to be in the middle of the deal.

"You didn't invite us to make a pitch?" he asks somewhat incredulously. "Did you not just send us a message quoting a proposed price, along with some photos that constitute a threat? What would you call that other than a pitch?"

Her story about networking and making friends seems just as outlandish.

"You're new in town... and need friends... but you've already managed to come into employment with an evil boss? Or did you bring the evil boss to town with you?

"You don't like violence, but your employer - possible employer, as I am not yet convinced - is known to psychotic pyromaniac with a side of fire damage?

"Why would an evil employer hire you? Why would you work for an evil employer? You want to ask about what kind of people we are and if we care about the consequences? Well what do your choices say about you? Because from where I'm standing it looks like you're the one who made the deal with the devil, not us."

Mato doesn't look particularly moved when she points out that all other offers get people killed or injured.

"Yeah, welcome to the Sixth World, neh? A zero-sum game where everyone's benefit comes from someone else's loss. Every job we do frags someone, otherwise there wouldn't be any money in it, would there?" He rubs his forefinger over his thumb in a mocking fashion. "That's me playing the world's smallest violin just for you."

He's laying it on a bit thick; Mato isn't really that mercenary, but she might not know that.

Frisson seems to struggle with the pressure. "Please, don't make it into a damsel in distress scene, seat." it is more of a plea than an order. The stressful situation seems to weigh on her, and she appears genuinely out of her comfort zone, perhaps even afraid, but these are small nuances, and she keeps her composure and forces herself to look at the much larger man. She pauses for a moment and then responds. Why would they hire me? she smiles a mischievous smile and provocatively says Oh, I fucked you guys badly. Don't you realize what I have already done? With a soft tone to not be heard by half the bar, she says It took me a few hours to find you, identify you, find your contacts, and some of the other bidders. Wouldn't you pay 15k for such a service, cowboys?

You may find it hard to believe, but I am usually very friendly. Especially to those providing the vices I like... These tend to be evil people regardless of the specifics. I am not very proud of my life choices but are they relevant here?



Tamarind: Zigging and zagging to the Lantern is of no consequence, there are not many delivery drones at Redmond at night, but nobody would think much of them. The Lantern is quiet; it is closed and dark. It is still guarded, and there are hints of a fight, like glasses on the floor and several burned-up bikes in the parking lot but all that is not very fresh. It is likely to have happened a few days ago. Despite that, two people are outside guarding the place with automatic weapons in their hands, and about a dozen vehicles are in working order in the parking lot, indicating some activity in the Lantern.

"Two things:
You are a pretty sloppy gumshoe - what you unearthed are our neighbors, not our contacts. Any idiot could find those - especially the Weeners.
We are active in our community, but you are mistaking that as leverage. I'd be more impressed if you knew who our employer is.

Secondly and much more important: At the moment, we are not discussing to use your services. We are looking for a good reason why we shouldn't ask Tony to show you the murder basement of this fine establishment.
And for the record, there aren't any plusses on your balance sheet yet.

A good start would be to tell us exactly how and who has hired you and what your exact mission statement is."
Bobby replied with casual cruelty.

The mention of Tony catches her off guard. but I broke none of their rules... she whispers almost silently, and clearly to herself.

Though she bounces back and says Well, if I achieved so little, then no need for murder basements, right? right! I was hoping for that.

She sighs Job statement is easy I keep my eyes open for cards all the time for some day-to-day necessities. Then when a new card arrives, I collect all the information I can about its origins and interested buyers, including leverages that one can use on any of them.

She thinks About who exactly is my employer? It is a difficult call - and to see that ask yourself what really you know about this card. Why would a one-of-a-kind magical artifact hands up in your hands?"Why not the Draco foundation, or some national gallery? I mean the local collectors are ambitious and modestly wealthy - but why not go worldwide?

Is your card stolen? It would explain why it is sold in the darkness. Also, why sell the cards one at a time rather than sell the entire deck? What kind of game is paying our bills? I would be impressed if you could shed light on this mystery.

I think it is the weeners because my drug dealer is a weener, and I hang around the Lantern occasionally to feel alive. Who else in this world would know to hire me? My contacts have told me the weeners got the card, and I got an extra generous funbox from my drug dealer as a bonus. I also have some circumstantial evidence that is the info they consume in their crusade, and the last time one of the people on my list was murdered. Don't know about you - but it gets a bit too dangerous even for me.


Why do you care so much about my employer's identity? Did the Halloweeners rub you the wrong way?... They tend to do that to people. then she adds in a decisive voice which is why I don't want to be in the same room with my employer, that is as close to the bonfire as I want to be SISters. I can feel the heat through the Trix just as well.

It is crystal to me that someone that pays a considerable amount for information to pressure you and the other bidders is willing to go to great lengths to acquire the card.

Oh, this is going to be fun thinks Tamarind. The end goal is clear, get eyes and ears inside The Lantern. The challenge: The delivery drones are too big to show up unnoticed. And it isn't likely that if they showed up with food that it would go unnoticed if they stuck around. Not that she can really afford to give away a bunch of food currently. Her little Kanmushi 'bug' drones could likely get in unnoticed, especially if she drives directly, but theyy can't fly, and are hanging onto the delivery drones currently. Quickly she fills in the steps of the plan to make it happen.

1. Has her delivery drones run their own pilot programs
2. As back-up, loads the kanmushi with pilot and clearsight
3 Tells one of the delivery drones to stop, when it is not too close to The Lantern, and open up its access door a bit
4. Tells the Kanmushi that is clinging to the outside of the delivery drone to crawl inside, and then onto the Flying Eye that is also inside
5. Sets the delivery drone in motion again, and when it passes roughly overhead of the lantern she takes direct control of the Flying Eye and flies it carefully out of the delivery drone (the down draft from the rotors make ti trick), and then carefully flies it down to the ground on the opposite side of the lantern from the guards
6. She has the Kanmushi crawl off the Flying Eye and she parks it in a dark shadow
7. Taking control of the Flying Eye again, she rolls it around the building slowly, looking for likely gaps that the microdrone could crawl through
8. Then she rolls the Flying Eye carefully around until it can watch the parking lot
9. Finally she takes control of the Kanmushi and stealthily crawls it into The Lantern

"Ah, that explains a lot."
Bobby nodded. "You are an addict.
We care about who pays, because it allows us to know how much and what they can pay. There are certain non-monetary commodities that the Halloweeners could provide that might interest our employer.
Alright. We'll talk to them directly. You did your job, but I'd advice you to get out of this situation post haste. Give us the contact number."

@Tamarind There is no indication of anyone giving notice to the delivery drones; the Lantern is pretty difficult because it is winter and the windows are closed. She'll have to wait for someone to get in or out or in the place to sneak in. The drone is unlikely to be stealthy with a clientele that tends to be heavy under the influence. It is a very small drone and carefully piloted to be out of the way - but it may not be so easy to leave once the drone is in - so Tamarind considers if she is willing to commit to that course of action.

Then the flying eye spots a small, slightly open window to the Latrines, and the drone may enter from there though there may still be shut doors.


@Frisson frowns. "I delivered your contact details a few hours ago, and I guess they don't want to talk. Though you may hear from them once they gain some leverage. I cannot deliver you any information, so it is best if you forget to be cruel to me at the bar. It was a long shot, to begin with, I did not really think you'll go with me. Just thought the ride would be... more exciting." She leaves a cheap credstick on the table and tells the bartender, "Keep the change hon." With that, Frisson makes her way toward the elevators.

Tamarind sends the Kanmushi climbing the wall up to the window. Even if it can't see, it might be able to hear. Its sensor suite is not too sophisticated, but then again The Lantern doesn't seem like the sort of place for hushed voices.

Mato shakes his head, not exactly sad to see Frisson go.

"Bobby, do I not understand women or did that just make no sense whatsoever?"

Or both, he allows, but he doesn't say that part out loud.

His mind spins a bit. Should have tried to flip her? Maybe the good-cop-bad-cop routine would work. Bobby could be all intimidating and Mato could be sweet and offering chems that presumably (hopefully) Doc Painless could provide. Would that have been a worthwhile play?

"If she found us, our contacts, and some bidders in a couple hours then she's not bad," he allows. "But talk about tainted goods." He shakes his head again. "How can you trust someone on the smack?" Then, upon further consideration, "unless the smack is what you use to keep them on a short leash, I suppose."

He looks to see if Frisson and Bobby left any peanuts in the bowl. Finding a few he fishes them out and crunches on them, finding them as salty as expected.

Mato gets the sense that other people in the bar are looking at him. It's not an uncommon feeling. Smoothies are usually nervous around orks. Gringos are usually nervous around Natives. Add the two together and it can make their nerves twitch. Sometimes the nice suit can inoculate him from that response, or at least provide social armor, but in this case Mato knows that they can tell that the conversation with the blond was not a friendly one. He knows where their sympathies reside. He wants to bark, What are you looking at? and What of it? but refrains from doing so.

<<Bit of a bust>> he reports to Tamarind and Raven, just in case Raven could track things. <<We'll see if anything comes of it but at this point I'm skeptical.>>

At About 1:00 am.

@Tamarind - Flying eye
hears a very civilized debate about combat tactics and strategy planning. Having arrived late, she is uncertain what the wider context is, but it appears like several people inside are making plans for a military operation. The exact details are difficult to decipher without the proper context.


The Kanmushi drone climbs into the restrooms, and, unfortunately, the door is currently closed, so it is stuck there. It cannot enter the bar until someone uses the bathrooms, but about 10, 5-gallon gasoline containers are stored in the lavatory. So it is uncertain if it is of active use now that the place is closed.

@Bobby - Andrew texts >>Bobby San, I have an interested party in the Syndicate, but they say you are not at the office.

Bobby shrugged at Mato's question: "Addicts. Anything for the next fix. At least now we have a valid reason to call Carn-Evil directly."

To Andrew he answered: <<That is correct. We are currently housed at a hotel casino. For security reasons, you understand. Please let your honored elder know that they can reach us through the matrix to arrange a meeting or give a bid. Thank you for forwarding this information. I won't forget it.>>

Bobby sent in the group chat: <<If no-one objects, I'm going to call Carn-Evil now. Frisson gave us enough info that it should appear natural to do so.>>