02:16
The night was crystal clear, uncommon for Seattle, stars glimmering through the open sky, throwing dim illumination across the docks. Two men waited on the docks, occasionally glancing around, cradling snub nosed submachine guns, sunglasses tossing back reflections of the men moving around behind them. The similarly cut Italian suits, black loafers, and slicked back black hair were like the twisted uniform for a modern day secret army.

What was that 21st century pop song, I wear my sunglasses at night?

There was a shout, and both heads swiveled in unison, body's twisting as they turned to sprint towards the noise. Automatic fire rings out, brief stacatto bursts of death filling the previously empty night.

An explosion rings out, lighting up the darkness, illuminating the ranks of men moving towards the warehouse, darting between boxes, moving vehicles, and trucks, occasionally drawing rifles up to their shoulder to fire off another burst.

One man stands in the front, waving smaller groups forward, his hands gesturing towards the warehouse as faint outlines hovering over the docks slowly gain resolution, two towering pillars of flame materializing. They sweep towards the beleaguered defenders, pausing only to send jets of flame washing over the pier. The bursts of fire die off, replacing by the sizzle of flesh and the occasional pop of ammunition cooking off in the blaze. A grim smile touches the leaders lips, a sad, resigned satisfaction tinging the expression.

________________________________________________________

21:00

"Gentlemen, last night was a complete success. We destroyed at least a quarter of a million in business material and and weapons. It will take them months to recover."

The speaker nods at another immaculately dressed man across the table, the suit so crisp it almost crinkled as he rose. A slight nod as he acknowledged the assembly, and his Japanese is unaccented and technically perfect.

"We have an established series of surgical strikes designed to further deplete and eliminate the original resource advantage they currently held in the city. I am assembling a group as we speak that will provide maximum efficiency and expendability. The strikes will move in successive momentum until they are left broken and ground under our collective heel."

He gives another small nod, and a smattering of applause accompanies him as he retakes his seat.
_____________________________________________________________

Raton

He slid around the imposing iron door, covered in rivets and sharp spikes, and grinned to himself. There's no way he was going to lose, not in front of all those kids watching.

He surged deeper into the system, down twisting corridors and hallways, stopping just outside a door with light flooding from around the edges. He pushed the door open, raising a hand instinctively to cover his eyes as the light blasted out around him. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses, he slides them on, blocking out most of the glare and allowing him to see the room.

It's dominated by a spinning pillar of light, apparently random bits of data, pure 1's and 0's, flashing through the spectrum of colors. It doesn't read like data, and he can't make sense of the patterns before one of the colors lashes out, bathing him in read light, pinning his arms to his sides and holding him paralyzed. The pattern of data shifts, colliding together and forming an enormous face, data still streaming through the collage of colors and numbers as the face stretches out, mouth open wide as it descends on him...

Raton gasped as he woke up, twisted nightmares of his first decking run still bouncing off the inside of his skull. He snatched at the cell phone, snapping "Hello," at the caller before he even saw who it was. He cursed silently as the icon of a 1920's detective peered back, tipping a fedora and shrugging to re-adjust the trenchcoat. He always wondered who Geoff was...whoever he was, he was either Otaku, or he could afford to burn the bandwidth for a high-res icon.

"Got a job for ya, kid. Couple o' friends looking for help with some security computers, simple stuff, nothing complicated. Pay's alright. Meet's tomorrow night, China town, 10pm." He rattles off an address, and tips the fedora, strolling off out of the light of the streetlamp as a light rain starts to fall in the image.

_________________________________________________________________

Lee

There's a shout, and Lee sighed, stepping to one side as he rounded the corner and fading into the shadows. A few moments later several figures come rushing by, crying out about a theft.

Why so much effort? It's not even like the thing was worth more then a couple of nuyen. The silver plating on it had sparkled under the street lamp though, and Lee hadn't been able to resist the urge to pocket it as he strolled by the stand. If the guy behind him hadn't stopped to buy something, the street vendor never would have noticed it was missing.

He stepped out of the shadows, blending in with the crowd and whistling quietly. Raccoon would be pleased. The value was in the act itself, and it always paid to keep the paws adept and light.

He was so pleased he couldn't help but give Lucy a grin as he recognized her face on the phone. "Evening."

She arched a brow, staring at him for a second. "Just stole something, didn't you?"

He just grinned wider.

She shook her head, fighting to keep the amusement off her features. "Hey, look, something right up your alley. Tomorrow night, China town, 10pm," and she rattles off an address.

__________________________________________________________________

Countdown

He sits, crosslegged, in a classic meditation position, chanting the mantra in a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the very floor to draw him in line with the harmonics of Gaia herself.

He had been lucky to find an apartment with a studio space for meditation and training, and he was thankful once again as he rose, the blinking light on the telecom catching his attention.

It's Lynn, and her face looks slightly pinched as she leaves the message, Catonese flowing in a rapid string.

"Sorry to be so abrupt, but there are many concerns at this moment. There is work for you, if you're interested. The meet is tomorrow night in China town, at this address." She pauses, glancing away from the camera and then looking back, a forced smile coming to her lips. "I think you should take this one. It's good money, and the connections would be...useful."

____________________________________________________________________

Maru-san

A soft thump, and the body collapsed against him. The van parked at the curb slid open it's doors, and Maru leaned the now unconscious body towards it, helping hands already reaching out to draw the gentleman in, making it seem as if they're helping him up into the vehicle. He climbed in behind, and the van pulled sedately away from the curb. It had taken less then six seconds to complete, but more then a week of legwork and planning.

He was toasting Jordan on the successful completion of yet another "trade" when his phone rang. He glanced at the number, holding up a finger as Jordan scowled.

Strings had the same smile she always had, probably the same one she'd worn even before she'd become a fixer, pushed out of her house by the Bigio family.

"I'll keep this brief. I've got a line on a series of jobs, and they want discrete, professional people. The pay's okay, but I'm asking, as a favor, for you to take it if it sounds even remotely okay."

Silent, Maru gazed off into the distance for awhile before responding. Strings never asked for favors. She had always been pure business.

She sighs softly in relief, the sound almost imperceptible, and rattles off an address in China town. "10pm. You'll want to make sure you make a good first impression, not that I have any doubts."

Jordan mumbled something about work always calling at the wrong time and flashed him a playful smile as she took another sip of wine.

___________________________________________________________________

Irving

The steak was excellent, at least 6 inches thick, and every bite made Irving remember how good it was that in America, in Seattle at least, even people from humble beginnings could eat the finest foods and live in grand houses. Alright, perhaps it was an apartment, but at 1200' square feet, most people in houses in Seattle couldn't compete. He pushed the plate away, his third of the night, and cocked his head as he heard the patient beeping of the trid in the other room.

Other room, imagine that, he had eight! He'd come along way from the humble beginnings, and he almost thanked the miliary for their treatment, for it had paved the way for his new career in the shadows.

The image on the phone was Fred's flaming humanoid figure, supposed to be a fire elemental, but Irving wasn't sure they really looked like that. The clatter and thump of the heavy rock and roll played in the club Fred worked at came over the line as Irving opened it. A moment later Fred's face appeared, grinning madly. He'd always had a bit of an insane gleam in his eye, but his jobs always paid well, and he'd met a number of contacts he still kept in touch with.

"Irving, my man, how's it going? Hey, look, I've got another job for you." Questions or not, Fred rarely left room in the conversation for a word to get in edgewise.

"There's a couple of guys from that last run you did coming in too, and the pay's small at first, but it's supposed to scale up pretty seriously if the first run goes well." He rattles off an address, already nodding his head to the heavy bass beat behind him.

"Later!" He cuts the line before Irving had a chance to respond, but what else was new?

___________________________________________________________________

Token

She was warming up, and he could tell. It was obvious, and it always happened. A long look, a quiet conversation, let them touch your ears...never failed. Except when work gets in the way.

She looked annoyed as the cellphone rang, and he shot her a smile as he cursed inside and drug the phone out of his pocket, turning slightly away.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Token, I presume?" A cautious yes followed the question, the elf leaning a little further away from the woman as he talked.

"My name is Yamarito Yamazika, and you were referred to me through a business associate of mine. I'm told you are a freelance appearance professional, is this correct? I have a lucrative contract job I believe will be off interest to you." The precise, Japanese accented voice rattled off an address in China town, and mentioned tomorrow at 10pm as a time when someone might be around.

Token plasters the smile back across his face as he turns back to the woman, already mumbling something about how his business was always calling, and realized she was on her way out of the door with some starched suit sarariman.

Probably billed himself as some kind of Shadowrunner, he snorted. Ah well, she obviously had no taste anyway. He ordered another drink.
____________________________________________________________________

Raton cut the call off. Geoff could leave him feeling creeped out, and he had to surpress the urge to track down the bits of data associated with the call through the Matrix. He'd done it before, many times, but Geoff was either very good or very lucky in his choice of blinds and forwarders, because Raton had never managed to find the source.

He shruged and fumbled for the edge of the sheet before flipping it back, letting the room's cool air wash across him. The room wasn't much, but it was livable. The furniture was mostly older stuff, though servicable. There wasn't much in the way of decoration, but there was a lot in the way of electronics. After a bit of fumbling, he found his ASIST converter on the nightstand underneath a poster for "Sapphire: Shadowrunner for Hire".

The poster was a bit of a joke from his roommates. Raton had been on half a dozen Shadowruns and he'd never met a runner who matched the trids. Stretching, he hobbled to the door and peeked out into the hallway. It was 10am, which meant that most of the tribe was asleep or just getting up. Things didn't really come to life until after noon.

Creeping silently down the hallway, he made his way to the big bathroom. The headquarters was a descent sized house in Newport up in Bellevue and had two bathrooms, though with six kids living under the same roof, two of them female, finding a shower was sometimes difficult.

Of course, with a couple of those kids, getting them to take a shower was the real challenge.

He crept down the hallway and found the door to be locked. He knocked, though he knew better than to force the issue. From the other side of the door, a female voice called out, "Wait your turn!"

The voice belied age, which meant that it could only be Meghan. "You about done, MG?"

"No, just getting started. An' don't think about comin' in, neither, cuz I'll blue your screen if I catch you doin' it again!" came the voice from the other side with an edge that spoke of real retribution.

"Null sweat, I ain't peekin' twice," he said, and added very much under his breath, "even if I really, really want to." Instead he turned on his heel and stumbled through the main room on his way to the bathroom on the "kids" side of the house.

He liked MG. They were sort of dating, and had "done stuff", but only online. Outside of the Matrix, they were both fumbling and awkward with each other and had trouble talking, much less anything else. The incident with the bathroom three days before had made it even more of an issue, of course. He hadn't meant to walk in just as she was getting out of the shower, but the door lock had apparently malfunctioned.

Whereas the living section sof the house were mostly given over to small beds and electrical odds and ends, the main room was very much a nest of technology. Half a dozen recliners, couches, and other places for a meat body to relax were arrayed around the room, each one with a jackplug hanging on a small stand beside it. One recliner was occupied, of course, since someone generally kept an eye on the Well at all times. Today the duty fell on Cody, aka Bait+Switch.

The Well was the lifeblood of the tribe, after all, and it was what brought each of them closer to the Resonance. Raton gave a look toward the bathroom door across the room and decided that being clean could wait till after he'd gotten his email, at least. He flopped into his recliner and clicked the plug into his converter and then into his jack.

He lay back as the world shifted and resolved into a digital landscape all around him. The LTG rezzed around him and he slipped into the digital world. His icon was a stylized version of himself, strong and agile, as it zipped through LTGs and RTGs, laying down a convoluted data trail that spanned the globe. After a few minutes of this basic precaution, he hopped back to the Seattle LTG and dropped into the Redmond grid. Of all of the grids in town, Redmond was one of the most volitlie, with vast spaces of static in between systems if one went the wrong way.

Flying along the paths, Raton's icon zipped across trails and, at a completely innocent turning in the path instead went the opposite direction, into the static. After a carefully measured amount of time, he turned again and went farther into the digital wilds. Finally, he came into a clear patch where a single icon was standing. The icon moved to challenge him, but he sent a quick message and the icon stood down.

In the presence of the well, he coudl feel the nearness to the Resonance. The code almost sang to him with its presence and power. Here, he could submerge himself in the power of the Matrix and come out stronger or find a purpose to his decking. It was his first dive into the Resonance itself which had sent him to Shadowrunning. It simply felt like what he should be doing.

A hour later, he was still floating around the Well, hoping for a sign when MG icon showed up. She'd taken the time to reprogram it into an elven maiden some time ago, something that Raton had never bothered with. He knew that she had some issues from her childhood, though, and this was probably one of them. Everyone in the tribe did.

After the outburst that morning, Raton had assumed that they were still not on civil terms, but her icon ghosted over to his and gave him a smile. He gave her one back and after a while, they went to holding hands. B+S flashed a message about going to catch some sleep and rolled his eyes as he logged out.

In short messages, he imparted to her that he had another job. She didn't like it much, but she understood when the Resonance asked for things that might seem odd. Sometimes, you just had to put your faith in the Code.

An hour later, he was scrubbing himself in the shower and wondering about the enigma that was his tribemate and possibly just mate. Shadowrunners were simpler than girls, even the ones who happened to be girls.

With his morning out of the way, he decided, it was time to get a little real work done. He logged back in and decided to grab the headlines and see if anything was going on in Seattle in general, and in China town specificly.

Upon receiving the information about the meet Irving set aside the remains of his meal Its a good time when I can actually afford to set aside food, never thought i would have this kind of wealth. Standing up Irving walked over to his phone, and dialed up an old friend, When it comes down to it, I'm sure having a little extra mojo, and some one with quick fingers will come in handy When the phone is picked up on the other end Irving spreads a wide grin, "Hey Lee, good to see you again, I got a new job offer, no extra details about it, but it is supposed to pay well, I was wondering if you were available to provide a little mojo backup for the meet, and the for the run later."

"Well Bandit" says Lee to the air, "it looks like we're popular tonight."
He answers the phone for the second time in as many minutes. Seeing the face of his old chummer Irving, Lee smiles. Hearing what Irving has to say makes him smile wider.
"Let me guess, tomarrow at 10pm, right? I was going to call you for backup. How 'bout you pick me up on your way over? Oh yea. Do you got any clue what it's about?"

Looking slightly perplexed for a moment Irving replies to his old friend's question, "yeah, let me guess, you were called about this weren't you. you think we should try to get in touch with Raton, I always liked hiving a decker check out the place before I go in?"

in response to the question about a ride to the meet
"that shouldn't cause too much of a problem, but it'll be a taxi, remember, I'm the one who usually bums a ride off the rigger I'm covering. Sorry I don't have any clue what this is about, Fred tends to be a little short on details, but he does come up with good jobs for me so it works out in the end."

Maru-san looks over to Jordan sighing slightly, "I must cancel tonight's duet, don't look so surprised, we both know this world leaves precious little time for art. Be a dear and convey my apologies to Bili, I know she wanted to bring some clients by the bar to listen."

Dropping off a miffed Jordan at the bar, Maru-san continues on to his own domicile to shower and prepare his equipment. As this goes on almost by rote, he places a call to Countdown,
"Mushi-mushi, Countdown. I do hope I'm not disturbing you. I just received a call to action from a friend, she's, concerned about this job, asked it as a favor. It's out of character for her, the right folks know we work together, I was wondering if you had received a summons as well"

As the fish in the sea, the lines of code that made up the Matrix swam past Raton's icon. Mouse had fetched a few interesting headlines but nothing seemed to stand out as important in a Shadowrun sense. His own searches of the public datastores had turned up little, as well. The part of the brain he'd had replaced with a microchip gave him the time and let him know that he had plenty of time before the meet.

"I wonder if MG'd like to go out..." he asked, though Mouse was the only one around to hear him, and the sprite's ability to grasp complicated human emotions was nearly nill. He sighed and dove back into the datastores, fishing for information on the address he'd been given.

Hours later, he sighed and pulled his plug. Sprite, Eastwood, and Lancelot were jacked in, probably communing at the well. MG wasn't around, nor was B+S. B+S was probably asleep, of course, but he wondered where Meghan had gotten off to.

It didn't take him long to find her, of course, in the small house. The place was only about hundred square meters, after all, and a lot of that was taken up with everyone's rooms. She'd just finished making a list of needed supplies and looked ready to head out the door.

He stopped her, "Hey, want me to go with? Not safe out there, and all..."

She eyed him over. "Mr. Bad Shadowrunner goin' to protect me?"

He could tell if she was seriously still angry or not, but that had been what was on his mind. "Sort of, I guess."

She shrugged and nodded, though she muttered under her breath, "It's just to the fraggin' Stuffer Shack."

Nevertheless, Raton pulled on an armored long coat and holstered his pistol and chipped the skill he'd need to use it. When he'd learned the ropes in the Shadows for the first time, implicit had been that you didn't go anywhere unarmed without a good reason. He'd shot at people before, but he didn't think he'd ever actually hit anyone, much less killed them.

Still, for safety sake, he holstered the piece and slipped out the door into the drawing darkening world behind his sort-of-girlfriend in search for Stuffers. The job was on his mind, of course, as they walked, though he didn't bring it up with MG. He got the feeling that him going on a run made her nervous, which he took as an encouraging sign.

He gave her a sidelong glance and realized that she was deep in her own thoughts. She was just 17, but an old 17. He was 19 going on 20, and thought himself somehow more worldly than she, though her capacity for introspection was greater than his own. He was a hardened criminal, after all, and she was... well, she was a criminal in another way, really. They all were. If the Machine could stamp out the Otaku it would. Their very presence was a threat to the machine's hold on the minds of the youth.

The thought of youth wasn't entirely a happy one. With his upcoming 20th birthday, that left him just one year before the Fading began. The Fading wasn't a topic that he liked to think about. Even moreso because it would drive a wedge between him and the tribe. He'd heard rumors of an Otaku in his fourties who could still commune with the Resonance, but he'd only heard of the one. Every other tribe told the same story that after twenty one, the Resonance grew harder and harder to contact.

They were at the Stuffer Shack by the time he finished his thoughts, and he realized that the two of them hadn't said a word to each other on the trip. They each grabbed a handbasket and Meghan fished out her list so that they could begin the modern ritual of hunting and gathering. They did an aisle by aisle sweep, looking for odds and ends of food and supplies.

THey didn't exchange words until they were browsing the Aztex-mex cuisine.

"Do you think Clint wants some more of those Meltdown burritos?" he asked, thinking out loud more than anything.

"Nah, I don't think he handled them so well," she said as she picked up a handful of "Wussy" reheatable burritos for Sprite.

Standing near the edge of the aisle, he had a half view of the door and caught the outline of something that made him tense. Some sixth sense made him reach out to pull Meghan toward him and back from the edge of the aisle. She gasp and gave him a puzzled look, though she didn't resist.

He looked down and realized that he'd pulled out his pistol and hastily took his finger off the trigger. As he did so, the small red dot his laser sight had been drawing on the ceiling winked out. Almost without thinking, he pushed Meghan back down the aisle as he went after her. They were far from quiet, but by then the clerk had hit the PanicButton™ which was wailing its audible alarm for all to hear.

There was a loud argument at the front of the store and the shotgun whose outline Raton had glimpsed, barked once and the yelling stopped. Another voice shouted out, "Let's go!!!!!" and after a few more seconds, the doors slammed as someone ran out.

Raton relaxed his grip on MG and hesitantly crept toward the end of the aisle. A couple of figures were climbing onto a motorcycle outside, and the clerk was no where to be seen. Hastily, he put away the pistol he still clutched and dared to creep across the open area to peer behind the counter. The clerk was down and out, quite possibly for good.

He turned just in time to stop Meghan from getting a look over the partition and pulled her after him, the stuffers they'd been carrying scattering in all direction as they went out the door. The last thing either of them needed was to be questioned by the Star tonight. The SINless in this part of town were rarely given the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe the cops reviewed the video and didn't take either of them as being worth chasing down. Maybe they were just lucky. In either case, they made it back home empty handed but alive and well. They came through the back and locked the door behind them before they both sat down right there in exhaustion. They'd run the long way from the Shack, through yards and over fences, and neither of them was very athletic.

They panted for a while and looked at each other. They were both sweaty and gross, but the endorphines their bodies had released during the flight still carried them high. Siezed with an impulse that his slightly drunken mind was unable to resist, he leaned forward and grabbed MG, giving her a kiss, full on the lips. For a brief instant, she seemed shocked, then she started kissing him back. After a moment, she became more agressive.

Raton rapidly lost the ability to think about Shadowrunning until at least the following day.

"What's the case here?"

"One body, two shooters."

"Any witnesses?"

"Two, the camera's caught 'em on the way out."

"ID's?"

"Nadda, the visual ID came up with nothing. Probably SIN'less. Might have been part of the group that shot the clerk. One male, one female, both in their teens."

"Any hits?"

"Nah, but we put the pic's out to everyone running the beat, so they'll probably pick them up within the next couple of days. These rats crawl out of the woodwork on a regular basis."

The hot water of the shower washed away some of the haze from Raton's mind as he tried to make sense of everything. Or anything, for that matter. After the events of last night, he wasn't sure what his status with Meghan was, or with the tribe as a whole, for that matter. When he'd woken up, he was alone, and Sprite said that Meghan was in her room with the door locked. He didn't try to pursue her, more out of fear than anything else.

He knew what it had been, in a detached kind of way, but that didn't make it any easier to understand in the light of day. Flaring emotions had lead to something that no child attached to the Matrix for a significant portion of his life could avoid seeing, but had never participated in. Where that left the two of them was a mystery beyond the most arcane quirks code could offer.

The water went tepid and then cold, eventually forcing him out of the shower and into a set of clean but somewhat ragged clothing. He combed his hair and stumbled back out into the house properly, not surprised to see that Meghan wasn't around. The others apparently had no clue as to what was going on, or were doing a good job of acting that way.

With nothing better to do, he dropped onto his chair and jacked in, letting the digital world wrap around him instead of the physical. The code swirled and shifted before resolving into the familiar LTG around the jackpoint with its bland UMS architecture. Dozens of icons moved around the area, frames and users all intent on their business while he floated, trying to decide what his purpose was.

After the fiasco the night before, he wondered what had happened to the clerk and ran a simple search, dipping into the police wires for anything interesting.

Pulling out his pocket secretary, Token entered the Chinatown address, then the name, Yamarito Yamazika, but didn't bother with the time.

He looked at the time and wondered who had recommended him as a Face. Maybe Ellie, since his social skills eclipsed hers. Not Cecelia, she would have mentioned it. Tommy? Or a friend of a friend? He decided not to wonder about the small mystery, it could have simply been a turn of phrase to make an introduction. Surely, if Token knew the referrer, Yamarito would have mentioned the name.

Token started going into run mode. He needed to call Ellie and Tommy, especially Tommy Chang, and see if they had ever heard of Yamarito Yamazika. The name sounded as Japanese as the rice rockets from his youth: Yamaha, Suzuki, ... Needed to think about a safe house for the duration, too. His first thought was an abandoned apartment house in Tarislar, then he thought of the crappy roads on the way there, of the gangs that would want road tax or protection money. And then getting by without running water or electricity or matrix service. Nope, forget about Tarislar for now. The Sheraton sounds good though... He started thinking of about a cover story, about how he would posture himself and do some sweet talking to get a room for cash. Then he had a better idea.

Token gazed about the room, not seeing what he was looking for, and layed a couple nuyen on the bar, finished his drink and left. As he neared his BMW, he shifted his vision to the astral and immediately saw the city spirit he had left watching his ride. "Anything happen I'd like to know about?" He asked.

The spirit said no, and Token thanked him for watching and guarding his property. Then he headed for the Sheraton.

The Sheraton lounge was half full, a pianist smoothly playing a subdued song for the few couples moving on the small dance floor. The elf passed by the room, noting how the patrons were dressed, and headed for the men's room. In the privacy of a stall, Token cast the spell, transforming his clothes into a medium blue suit and slacks, a white dress shirt and a crimson tie. Then came the Healthy Glow.

He took the opportunity to call Cecelia, but she did not answer, and Token wondered if she thought of the phone as alien. He left a message saying he was working and not to wait up for him. He exited the stall and checked his appearance in the mirror. He looked too young, his image belying his 50+ years. He cast makeover, styling his hair in a conservative fashion and highlighting the faint creases in his face. He admired the way he transformed himself into looking at least thirty, and headed back to the lounge.

Token assensed the unaccompanied females, looking for one that showed a tinge of loneliness, maybe a bit of unhappiness. Unfortunately, the room was awash in those tones. Picking the best looking of the lot, he walked past her table, giving her a pleasant smile as he went, and seated himself at the corner of the bar where he could see the room. After a drink and time to let the room accept his presence, Token made eye contact with the woman he had earlier targeted. She immediately looked away as he got to his feet and approached her.

Stopping at her table, Token said, "Hello." The woman turned to him, feigning mild surprise that he was addressing her. "I hope I'm not being to forward, but that dress looks really good...," he trailed off, then added, "on you."

She smiled, thanked him for the compliment, then a little shock of realization hit her as he walked out of the lounge and she thought of where else he had imagined her dress.

Token called one of the watchers he surrounded himself with and sent it to spy on the woman. It returned moments later reporting, "She's got a big grin on her face."

Re-entering the lounge, Token looked toward the woman. She tried hiding her smile and her feelings, but the quick assensing showed she was interested. He asked, "would you like to dance?"

"Sure," she responded and took his hand as he led her to the dance floor. They had only danced a few minutes when he learned this was her last night in town. As the next song started, she mentioned she had a room upstairs.

"Really," Token said. "Is it a nice room?"

"I guess you could decide for yourself," she responded as they glided from the dance floor and headed arm in arm toward the elevators...

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

In the morning, Token ordered breakfast in bed for her from room service. When it arrived, he told the bellboy they would be requiring the room a few more days, if that was okay, and paid for two days with certified cred.

As the lady showered, Token thanked her for a wonderful night, pocketed the rooms card key and left.

From his vehicle, he called Tommy Chang and asked if he had heard of Yamarito Yamazika.

Lee wakes up and looks around the room.
"Time to get moving" he says to no one.
"Could you turn out the light?" says the Racoon sleeping on the old recliner in the "living room".
"Sorry Bandit, gotta get ready to go."
He pulls his duffle from under the bed, and makes sure his sneaky suit and other gear is in it. Then, he gathers up a couple of changes of clothes and a few days worth of ration bars and stuffs them in.
Slipping out of his jeans and t-shirt, he stretches his form fitting body armor across his wiry body, then puts on his dark blue suit, with matching tie and black shirt. A pair of wingtips, three sizes to big, slips on over the boots of his under armor. Checking the load on his super-squirt, he reminds himself to pick up more Narco-jet. 10 shots should last a life time, but running out could be bad. Slipping it back into his holster, he pulls on his Mortimer Greatcoat. The weight of the concealed armor makes it bad for sneaking, but the quality of the coat itself actually makes his suit look more like he bought at Aramante than Mens Wearhouse.
Opening his top drawer, he pulls his "runner" ID, a certified stick with 2500 on it out and puts it in his pocket.
"Bandit?" he says to the air.
"Right here boss" the air answers.
"Good. Ready to get out of here?"
"Ready for some real work, Lee. Even when they chase us, ripping off street vendors is boring."
"Your telling me," Lee says. "I'm looking forward to a challenge."
He drops his "legal" phone and credstick on the table, put's his earphone on, locks the door and heads out the door.
Time for Jerry Lawkins to disappear again.
He hops the Pike St bus and rides down the hill to First and gets off. Walking across first into Pike Place Market he can smell the combination of cooking food and the fish market that's right inside the entrance. He steps into Lowells, and ducks straight into the first restroom. He comes out two minutes later looking like a large Orc.
Back out on the street, he continues down first to Senacca, down under the Seattle Utilities Building, and takes a seat at The Big Rhino, ordering Steak and pasta. After the food arrives, he calls his old chummer Raton's dead drop. "Hey chummer, get back to me at this number."
He heads into the underground, and walks to the other main entrance at Fifth and Pine. He waits until a tour is heading out, then he shifts his Mask to that of a Japanese sariman and joins them up the stairs. Stepping out on the street, he waves down a cab, tells the driver to drop him at The Purple Haze in Tacoma. Again using the restroom to cover his mask change, he becomes a caucasion man in jeans and heads out the door. He catches the bus to within a block of the Marine Drive Storage and Warehousing complex, dropping his mask when he's alone. Giving 20 to the ganger at the gate, he heads down to #207, works the combination, and slips in to "home". He'll wait here til tonight when Irving picks him up. He hangs his clothes, and stretches out on his sleeping bag and air mattress bed, to wait for a call from Irving, Raton or Sleep.

"Sure thing, Lynn. Whatever you say." Countdown's voice was unstressed as he spoke to the air, watching the message. Clearly something was bothering Lynn and whatever or whomever it was, it was too late for him to do anything about it. He copied down the address to his pocket secretary along with the meeting time Lynn talked about and reflexively picked up the phone on the first ring as Maru-san's call comes in.

"Mushi-mushi, Countdown. I do hope I'm not disturbing you. I just received a call to action from a friend, she's concerned about this job, asked it as a favor. It's out of character for her, the right folks know we work together, I was wondering if you had received a summons as well."

"That I did, Maru," He replied in generic Chinese, trying not to slip into his regional Cantonese while on the line. With his English as bad as it was, this was the best he could do. "Perhaps it would be in both of our best interests to check on our friends. Their actions being a little strange and all, I trust you'll attend the meet anyway, right? Strange or not, a job is a job. In any case, I have to cut this short. I have to get to work and visit that friend of mine on the way. Take care. If you need me, you have my mobile number."

Cutting off the telcomm, Countdown sighed deeply and walked across his meditation area. Circles within circles within circles, not quite concentric as they were of differeing sizes and not centered around the same focus point yet all lay within one larger circle. They were woven into a rug he had gotten with the help of Lynn some time ago and was in a sense a replica of the so called 'master's circles' used in training by those who fought hand to hand or with archaic melee weaponry. They taught the student how to approach their target and fight from all distances, ever ready. Suppressing his reminiscence of such estoeric details, he quickly showered and got dressed. Picking up his keys on the way out, he hoped that nothing had happened to Lynn. More for the sake of those responsible to those that did anything to her if he got his hands on them.

Walking out to his Rapier, his white long coat russled quietly against his white shirt and jeans. He didn't normally wear these clothes, given Seattle's propencity for being...well...dirty. But it was an indicator for people that knew him, an indicator that trouble might be coming soon. Starting the motorcycle, he headed out of the complex's parking lot and off to the bad areas of town.

The stop was brief at the 'abandoned' apartment. Suiting up in the skintight form-fitting armor, sans gloves and hood and all thmore obvious accoutrements, and strapping on the thigh holster with the custom-built Northern Star pistol that Sue, Lynn's sister, had made for him. He owed those two women so much; not in nuyen, but in gratitude. Pulling the coat back on, he closed the locker and re-engaged the maglocks, doing the same with the front doors on his way out. Properly geared, he decided to pay Lynn a little visit.

He was sure May wouldn't mind him being a little late, but on the safe side...He pulled to a stop in a parking lot across the street from a Do-Not-Donuts, the number of police cars outside the food establishment turning him off tot he prospects of venturing nearer.

"May." Countdown said as the young woman's face appeared on his poc-sec.

"Ma!" May said, using his false name, the name he had been introduced to her through Lynn. "I was worried, you were late yesterday, I thought you'd taken ill."

"No, no. It isn't that. But one of my friends has," He lied in Cantonese, smoothly though it pained him to lie to May. He wanted to tell her so much that he'd kept hidden. Then he thought about the consequences and decided against it. "He needs me to pick him up some things from the Stuffer Shack, do you mind if I'm a little late today?"

"No, no. Of course not. Wish your friend well for me, alright Ma?"

"Of course, May. I'll see you in a little bit."

Ending the call, his mind lingered on May. Could I really do it? He thought. Maybe quit this life and live the simple life with her, never having to worry again about bullets and people wanting to kill me... Breathing in and out deeply, he cleared such thoughts from his mind. Lynn might be in trouble and here he was daydreaming. He fired up the engine again and headed for Lynn's place.

Setting his alarm to wake him early Irving Sets himself on his bed and prepares to go to sleep. his last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of his parents that he never knew.

the day dawns early, the only sound is that of his breathing and the breathes of his bunkmate. "Get up you lazy good for nothing sloth" his drill sargent, "you may be a bigger than us but you're still worthless when it comes right down to it." Every morning it begins like this, sure he's the best out of all the recruits but does that matter to these pretentious nobodies, of course not. He's a Troll and that's all that matters. "get up now." The morning continues with his training. Up and dressed immediately, the other recruits move on to the mess, but Irving gets the honor of being the test target for weapons check. He begins his day with a 10 mile run, in full gear and body armor. Followed up by his demolitions training. Its only once the other recruits have finished their meals that the real training begins. He and his 10 man squad are assigned to take the enemy position in the war game. He is of course point. As the squad approaches the target point machine gun fire spits out from the trees ahead of the squad. Everyone else hits the dirt, but as point Irving has no time, he takes the full burst directly to his chest. All of the wind is immediately knocked out of him, he can't breathe, the world around him blurs around the machine gun nest. As the fire continues around him he opens up with his weapon, a modified AK-97, while charging the nest. As he approaches the nest he discovers that all of the targets have been neutralized. His squad stands up behind him, and moves on to take the objective. Debriefing, "Maggot, what happened, your squad failed in this mission, and you failed them." does it matter that his squad was the only group to reach the target with the entire squad intact, no. Does it matter that they were assigned the only target with a full machine gun nest, of course not, He's a Troll and that's all that matters

Irving awakens with a jolt, wakened from the memory of his military career, to the sound of his alarm blaring. Rolling over to switch it off Irving thanks the gods above for taking him somewhere that being a troll is appreciated, that people are glad to have someone like him there, rather than his former life. Getting up he places a call to Lee.

"Hey Lee about that ride, if you can, get a hold of Raton for me to do the background info. I'll be by in a cab to head to the meet, you remember no transportation for me, but i'll be there 2 hours before the meet."

After hanging up on Lee Irving grabs his Fromfit body armor and slides into it. picking up his Armor vest he puts that on over top of it. He draws out his vibro sword from its sheath, looking over its edge, and the symbols carved into it I always wondered why the Yaks gave me one with this kind of ornate carvings, maybe they stole it, really now who cares, it has saved my life several times now. He slides the blade back into its sheath, strapping the sword over his hip ready to be drawn if it comes to it. Lastly he shrugs on his Long coat, pausing to rub over a small bullet hole in the end of it. Stepping out into the Seattle air he begins to wander the block, stopping at a stuffer shack to pick up some food. He continues on and finishes his walk returning to his apartment with time left to clean his weapon and shine the blade before the meet. hopefully this job will go better than the last one he muses, stopping once more to examine the bullet hole.

After disconnecting the call, Maru-san decided that the Browning might be the better tool for the task. Donning a pair of surgical gloves, Maru-san begins to clean and service his weapons, taking care to wipe down each bullet to remove stray prints from anyone that might have had contact. He loads several clips with gel rounds, a few that weigh heavily on his heart are loaded with standard ammunition and with grim determination he loads his fuichi with EX rounds.

Satisfied that he has prepared his weapons well, he sets about seeing to his clothing, the Vashion Island Actioneer he was sure needed to be dry cleaned since the slight plastic bag covering it was a little off center and he sent it out to be taken care of through the building service. The FFBA he could wash himself, though it will take the rest of the night to dry fully.

As the under-armor is being cleaned Maru-san decides to dress and pay Jimmy, his old snitch, a visit. For this he dons street clothes and his secure armor jacket, taking the Predator for the effect, along with a secure credstick for the effort.

Maru-san finds Jimmy hustling maps to the homes of famous simstars for 20 apiece.

"Hoi there Jimmy. You got Sapphire's pad on one of these?", Maru-san says with a smile.

Jimmy takes a step back, "T-t-takeo, hey man, was meaning to call you chummer. M-m-my sister, you see, she was having trouble with this guy down a few blocks."

"Jimmy, I don't need to know about the problems your sister is having with her pimp at the moment. I need to know the recent goings on in Chinatown."

Jimmy pales a momant, "Hey, I'm strickly sokujin these days, you know? Straight and narrow, 7 noble truths, all that drek."

"Jimmy, it's 8 nobles truths and I'm not interested in that right now. What kind of details will I find on one of your two-hundred maps, nes pas?"

April 4th, 2064

Raton

The brief search pulls up little of interest. The crime has already been relegated to the archives, a simple murder and hold up in no way comparing to the world shattering draconic conspiracies and Combat Biking tournaments that dominate the large screens that display the screamsheet information on the 'trix.

However, delving a little deeper into the Seattle Intelligencer's story, 'Star does report being on the look out for two witnesses, one male, one female, matching your and MG's general description. A small reward, 1000 , is being offered for information leading to the criminals arrest.

Token

Tommy's sharply accented English picks up after exactly 2 rings. He listens, cutting you off as you mention the name.

"Don't get involved. Yamazika plays by the rules, but the only one holding the book is him. He won't directly screw you over, but he doesn't give a damn about anyone, and won't lift a finger to help you, either, no matter how satisfied he is with your work."

Unfortunately, that's about the extent of Tommy's information, and after exactly 30 seconds of small talk, he disconnects.

Countdown

You always wondered how Lynn could afford the entire top floor of the apartment building she lives in. As you step up to the door, a tall, slender Oriental man, eyes silvered and sporting a discolored scar on his chin bumps into you exiting the building. He gives you one long look, eyes reflecting the light from the streetlamp, and flexes his gloved hands, turning and striding off into the darkness.

You trigger the button for Lynn's intercom, and she answers, he voice noticably shakey.

"Come up, of course."

Maru-San

Jimmy's eyes light up with avarice at your words, and you can almost see the battle between his 'straight and narrow' alibi and the cash you're offering. He licks his lips once, nervously, and glances around.

"All right, look. The Triads and the Yaks have pulled out some kind of peace treaty, and they're all ganging up on the pasta eaters. Some kind of all out thing. Chinatown is definitely not a good place to be, and I'd avoid eating Italian for awhile."

He holds out one of the cheap map chips expectantly.

Frag! A warning in no uncertain terms. At least if he got into this he'd know what to expect. Sounds like someone may be hiring dupes or cannon fodder.

After a quick glance into the astral for any ambushers, Token conjured a watcher and instructed it to attack anyone who attacked him. Feeling a degree safer, he invoked the city spirit. As he started driving he instructed it to guard him and the vehicle from accident.

Token headed toward the chinatown address, not planning on more than a drive by to note landmarks and guideposts for an astral recon. No sense getting too far ahead, this may be nothing more than a rendezvous point prior to adjourning to the real meeting place. Who would know this Yamarito Yamazika guy? Maybe someone else in the biz.

Letting the autonav do the driving, Token fished out the pocket secretary and started calling Countdown, Irving, Lee, Maru-San, and Raton. Maybe one of them had heard more about this guy.

Buying one of the maps and forking over the certified stick for 200, Maru-san takes a step back.
"This better be a good map, I don't like getting lost. Now, provided nobody has managed to install an aftermarket ventilation system in me, when I'm done I'll come back and have a word with the 'guy' that is giving your sister trouble. Remember what confuscious said Jimmy, 'The superior man understands what is right; the inferior man understands what will sell.'"
Walking back toward the monorail station, Maru-san begins to mull over the information, Baka, I hate being thought of as cannon fodder. I thought I left that behind at Furikama. The insistent ringing of his p-sec snags him out of reverie. Seeing the false name on the ID he answers, "Mushi-mushi Token, what's on your mind?"

As the fragments of data flew past Raton at a blinding pace, he reached out to touch one in particular that caught his eye. It expanded in his vision into a datafile of the article and he found the award and his eyes almost bugged out.

"Why are they after us... the tape should have been pretty clear that it wasn't us that did the shooting... hard to confuse a pistol and a shotgun." He skimmed the file and let it go, dropping back to the LTG proper and grabbing the access directory long enough to get a MXP for the Seattle Lone Star host.

With less 12 hours since the incident, he realized, it might be possible to alter some records before they went into backup.

"The quick version, I was wondering if you had ever heard of a guy named Yamarito Yamazika? He's supposed to be recruiting and I want to see what I may be getting into." Token listens as Maru-san explains in english with a sprinkling of japanese that he too had gotten a message. Token's limited japanese barely smooths the bumps out of the conversation.

Token relates the warning he got from Tommy.

Irving answers his phone with a polite hello, and seeing his old chummer Token on the line brightens substatially. "Hey Token, let me guess the meet is tomorrow in China Town, I got the same call yesterday, sorry no info on" at this point Irving seems to stumble over the unfamiliar name, "Yamazika, but on the other hand information was never my strong suit, Lee got the same message and was going to check with Raton to see if he knew anything about the job, but since you have the name of the employer you might want to give Raton a call as well."

Token tells Irving Tommy's warning about Yamazika in simple terms after hearing Irving's info, then suggests, "You might ask your yak buddies if they know anything about Yamazika, he sounds like organized crime.

"I don't know if maybe we shouldn't just walk away from this, but I am curious what the job is and how much it pays. Just got to watch out and not wind up like those cats.

"Let me know if you want a ride to the meet."

Raton finally checks his drop box and curses as he reads the timestamp on Lee's message. He grabs ahold of a data trail on the LTG and forms it into a comm signal. Giving it a whip, he sent it racing through a few other LTGs before bouncing to the directed commcode.

Irving thanks Token for his Information and tells him he would apreciate that ride. He gives him an address to pick him up at and asks when to be there, passing on that he was planning to meet Lee on the way there.

After the end of his talk with Token Irving calls up his Yakuza contact. after the prerquisate small talk he asks if he's heard of Yamazika, and if he has what information he can have on him.

"So ka Token, word on the street points towards a new turf war. Pasta vs. Sushi, and I'm not ready to wind up in someones tempura just yet; but the way the message was relayed, I think this Yamazika is putting the pressure on to get responses for the cattle call, and they are wanting specific individuals. I think if we don't answer we face losing friends. I'll see what I can dig up on my end. We should all meet up and talk before we go to this meeting, pool our resources so to speak."
Maru-san disconnects and messages Phineus Coffee? Takeo, 1 hour, usual place.

Maru-san then grabs a monorail over to the coffee shop and begins going through what little dealings he's had with the Yakuza in the last few years.

While he's waiting he messages Countdown and relays the warning and Token's concerns.

Nikoli - Phines strolls into the shop, glancing around for a second before flicking the still burning cigeratte back out onto the street and throwing his leg over a chair, sitting down across from you.

"What's the occasion?" he drawls, after tapping his order into the small screen set into the table. "It's not every day you buy me coffee."

Irving - You're cycled through three different phone drops before Serasu picks up. It's got a pretty good reception for being routed through Vladivostock.

"My friend, my friend, how are you doing? There are people looking for you, I hope you know?"

Raton - You could tweak the files, and you know it. But it's not always perfect, and LS is a little more paranoid then most. Besides, thinking about it a little longer, it's not really the 'Star patrolling in the big armored cars you have to worry about. It's all the beggar's and the street life that have read the article or seen the pictures, and will happily turn you in for enough for their next fix.

"Irving, the meet is at 10, figure an hour to get there and check around if we have time, and an hour to eat... How does 8 o'clock sound if you're in the mood for chinese?"

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

Replying to Maru-san, Token says, "I can always make more friends, but I don't have a Resurrect spell. It would make me feel a lot more comfortable if I knew who sent Yamazika my way."

Replying to Token, "If you had that, you wouldn't need friends like me. I'll fill you in as the details arrive."

Smiling as Phineus walks in, Maru-san flags the waitress over, "Another cup for myself and whatever he is wants."
As Phineus makes his order to the young lady, Maru-san mulls over how to say this, "Any rowdy parties going on in Chinatown the last few days? I got a call from a friend today, seems someone may be asking real persuasively for my talents in that area and considering she never asks for a favor it naturally has me concerned."
Maru-san sits back and sips his coffee looking over the table at Phineus, listenig to the crowd, watching for anyone a little too interested in this conversation.

Lee awakens to the pleasant sound of The Mexican Hat Dance playing in his ear. Taking a second to oreint himself, he remembers that he'd set that as his ring tone for some reason, and touches the answer stud.
"Housekeeping" he says and waits for a reply.

Raton's digital voice sounds clearly through the phone completely ignorning the bogus answer. Filtered as it is through the Matrix, the voice nevertheless has a faint Latino accent. "Hoi, chummer. You wanted to the mouse?"

Irving responds with no alarm to Seras's comment about being hunted. "Are we reffering to the ones after my services for the job, or is the Star after me for being "dead" again. Either way, do you have any info on Yamazika, he's the boss for the next job, at least so far as I know. I'd like to know if you know anything about the apparent turf war between your family and the Mob, and which side is asking me to work for them."

Lee smiles. "Hello Old Friend. Irv and I have been called to a meet. We were wondering if you were also, and if not, if you could do a little background checking for us. On the clock of course."

"China town at 10?" he asks. "I've got an invite and I've done some digging, though it didn't come up with much. Got anything in particular you want looked at?" He sends over the data he has, which is mainly some information on the meet site.

Wow, the Shadows sure is a small world
"Is anyone else I know going to be there?" he asks, wondering not if, but who?
"Maybe I should head over there and give the place a once over."

Raton says, "Not that I know of. So far you, Irv, and myself are the only ones I know are involved."

There is a short pause, "Say... you wouldn't happen to have a ride to the meet, would you? I kind of need one."

Countdown turns slightly to look at the retreating man and thinks better of it, proceeding up to Lynn's place. Knocking at the door, he adjusts his holster slightly and checks his pocket secretary as Maru's message comes in.

His reply is swift and terse, firing up the text message function on the device and hacking off the missive. "Got it. So, where do you want to meet to talk?"

The animated envelope flying off through the telcomm lines appears on his screen as Lynn opens the door. Smiling amiably, Countdown puts the communication device into a pocket in his coat.

Lynn was younger than Countdown by a good five years or so, understandably he felt a sort of big brother sentiment towards her and her sister, fostered further by his feeling that he should repay them for their help.

"So, Lynn, you want to talk about what just happened? May isn't expecting me at work for a while and I don't think this guy I ran into downstairs was one of your usual clients." Adjusting his coat with a shrug, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Unless, of course, you're dealing with those Japanese 'honorable businessmen', Lynn. Or did they force you?"

Maru-san sends a reply to Countdown via link to his p-sec. Meet me at my place in Queen Anne Hill <address>. 1500 day of meeting to discuss. -Maru-san. on a hunch he forwards the message to the entire team.

Maru-san: Phineas shrugs, digging another cigarette out and lighting it with a flick stick.

"Not alot. There's some stuff going down, but they've just pulled us out of the area. The slant eyes are keeping it between them and the greasers, so we're not getting involved. What, you planning on jumping in the middle of that?"

Irving: Seras chuckles, "The Star is still looking, my friend. But that's of no mind. I'm sorry, I've heard nothing of the upset or any alliance between my family and the others, or problems with the Family."

Countdown: Lynn pulls away, pressing her lips together and stalking away.

"Talk about what? I put you in touch with some people for a job."

She spins around. "Are you unable to do the job?"

Crinkling his nose as the smoke wafts across, Maru-san replies "There seems to be little choice, when certain people invite you to their party you either attend that one or serve as a lawn decoration at the next. Any idea who pulled the blue out of Chinatown?"

Irving replies relaxing substantially, "That's good to hear. And I thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to keep in touch with you about anything that might occur during this job."

A terse frown forms on Countdown's lips. "I've never turned down a job from you, Lynn. And I'm not about to start now. I was just worried about you is all. I won't pry if you don't want to tell me anything because I know you're always up front with me. You know my number if something's up."

"I'm going to get going, I'll see you around Lynn."

Walking away from his fixer's door, Countdown sighs. Mentally noting to stash his gear away again before heading to his more legitimate job, he messages Maru that he's recieved the notification of the meet tommorow.

Countdown - Lynn looks for a moment as if she's going to say something, but the moment passes, and the lines around her mouth and eyes tighten as she nods her head and shows you to the door.

Irving - Seras nods. "Excellent, my friend. By the way, if you're active in the are and in the middle of things anyway, I could use a favor. I'd be willing to toss a bit of nuyen your way for your troubles?"

Maru-san - Phineas snorts. "MacDennett, of course. The longer things go on, the less he worries about hiding just how dirty he is. I think he's hanging something over the heads of the chiefs, too."

Irving looks slightly interested at Seras's proposal. "if the area is China town and the favor doesn't involve killing or selling out my team, or anything else that would compromise the run i'm in, by the way how much Nuyen are we talking here?"

"Isn't that always the way, any idea who is putting his kids through college?"

April 5th, 2064 - 3:00pm

Maru-san - Phineas arches a brow. "Gee, who do you think? Maybe it's got something to do why all the boys in blue pulled out of Chinatown?"

He stretches, grinding out the cigerratte on the plastic surface of the table and standing up.

"I've gotta run, on the job and all that." He takes the coffee from the waitress as she stands up, walks her walk away for a long minute before turning back to you with a lecherous grin and stepping out towards the door.

Irving - Seras chuckles into the phone, and nods. "15k, and your team could be a help. I'll give you more details in a few days."

Irving smiles sligtly, "that sounds fine."

Token arrives at Maru-san's Queen Anne Hill bolthole. Nice digs for a bolthole he thinks. He knocks and is let in then gets to work on the ward.

Token takes a piece of blue chalk and a small container of sea salt out and walks around the perimeter of the dwelling, making an occassional mark resembling a cursive "c" on the wall and throwing a pinch of salt over his shoulder. He asks, "have you got a beer, by any chance?"

Maru-san wants to know if he needs it for the warding.

"Not really, but it would help," Token replies. Let them think it would make it quicker/better/easier, he thinks. But a cold one sure would be nice about now, and it would be a nice payment for this little ward.

After his meeting with Phineus, Maru-san likes the situation less and less, but work is work. No time to go soft.

After a nights rest, he pick s up his laundry from the complex service and heads to Queen Anne Hill around 0900, to clean up and make sure the fridge is stocked with the right fare.

Letting Token inside around 1000 to begin the security preparations.
"Have you got a beer, by any chance?", Token looks to Maru-san hopefully.
Replying, "That for the ward or for the warder? Eh, doesn't matter either way. You keep working I'll get you one. Say, does that stuff have to be there? I mean, the cleaning drone won't destroy what your're doing in a few hours will it?"
After getting him a beer, he goes back to finishing the packing.

April 5th, 2064 11:00pm

Lee - Bandit returns, shaking his head. "No go, boss. That place is warded up tighter then a steel drum, and there's two fire salamanders wound all the way around the building. Serious stuff."

All

You arrive, by various means , at the address you've been given. It's a large office building, 10 floors, and typical corporation, covered in sleek, black glass. The street outside is busy, with vendors hawking wares and paper lanterns strung up along the streets. The pop of firecrackers going off is occasionally audible through the basic street noise.

Those of you with astral perception will see that the entire building is wrapped in a solid ward, and two odd spirits, apparently fire, continually circle the building.

An Asian gentleman with a thin reading glasses (an oddity, in this world of technology and surgery) in a well cut Western style suit stands outside, waiting patiently and silently, aside from a slight nod, for all the members to arrive.

Once everyone has arrived, he waves everyone inside. The lobby is sleek, but small, with a spartan looking receptionist desk sitting alone and empty at this time of night. Two elevators ding open, enough space for everyone to easily fit inside. The ride is brief and smooth, and opens to show another small reception area. The group is quickly led through and into a conference room, with 1 obviously troll modded chair. Each location on the table is fitted with a small display screen, touch keypad set into the surface, and a jack.

After everyone is seated, several women stream quietly out of a door near the opposite wall, dressed in simple white blouse and black skirt ensembles. One woman pauses near each member, asking quietly if refreshment is desired. After the orders are taken, they trail out as quietly as they came in, returning minutes later with whatever was requested.

After food and drink has been served, a slim gentleman in a straight cut Actioneer suit coughs softly for everyone's attention.

"Good evening. My name is Mr. Yamazika. You have been called here to discuss the potential opportunity for our requisite needs and assets to a satisfactory and harmonious union on all parts.

As I'm sure you're all aware of, I represent a certain criminal organization. We are at odds with another criminal organization. As professionals, no doubt that your 'legwork' was revealed this already. We are seeking a team of professionals for discrete operations in our favor.

Our need: For certain assets of this opposing organization to be removed from their custody. Our assets: Monetary compensation.

Your needs: Monetary compensation. Your assets: The ability to remove the aforementioned assets from this opposing company.

Our harmonious satisfaction: For you to use your assets to meet our needs.

Gentlemen, the first target will be a home in Snohomish to be divested of certain resources. The timescale will be one week. The pay will be 10,000 each. No further information will be given before you've accepted the terms as I've layed them out. Do you accept?"

Raton gladly took up the offered ride to make his way to the meet. The whole time outside of his house he's been jumpy, hoping that MG would read his email about their current status before venturing out. He'd left Sprite with orders to make sure she did, but delivering the information himself had been impossible for him.

The office building completely failed to match Raton's expectations. He'd been expecting a much less refined place, owing to its "strip mall" type construction, but, then again, he often found his real-world expectations to be off base.

Inside, he tried to keep his profile low, the hunted feeling somehow more real than usual. It was onething to be a wanted icon on the grid, that was something he understood. Having his description attached to the infamous and everpresent Lone Star bounty line was a different matter.

He eyes the troll nervously, but doesn't make a comment as the group is seated and refreshments are ordered. He waves away his own personal waitress, not wanting anything and mostly just hoping the quaver in his stomache will calm down.

At the mention of legwork uncovering criiminal connections he blinks. He'd looked around, but seen no mention of it on the Matrix, at least not in the time he'd had for looking. Given that this was China Town, though, it didn't take much mental effort to guess. The confirmation is all that had been lacking.

He keeps quiet but can't help but ask, "Umm... when you say "removed", do you mean wetwork?"

Irving nods his thanks to the women when they serve him. "Mr. Yamzika, what kind of discretion is needed for this elimintaion, I have the skills to eliminate the entire neighborhood if that is acceptable, or slightly less obvious methods, oh and yeah I'm obviously in, your Family has given me a large amount of help in the past, and I'm willing to help you out. I just need further details as to what methods are preferable."