15:40:00 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

In the midst of his relief to be out of the clinic, it took Dragon just a bit too long to realize that something might be amiss. Quiet was good, but too quiet...that was rarely good. And as he rounded the car to the side door, his senses were screaming that it was way too quiet to be good. Reaching under his coat for the concealed Spas hanging from his shoulder, he casually unfolded the stock, hearing the satisfying *snickt* of it locking into place.

Good thing I brought this into the clinic with me instead of putting it in the trunk. Heh, I still can't believe I did that. Must have been too busy rushing to get Sybersnake inside to worry about how it might look. Oh well, it's not like the staff would've been surprised anyway, this being the Barrens and all.

He had checked to make sure his weapons were still fully loaded as soon as he'd gotten them back in the clinic of course. While Virgil had said the place was on the level, there was no way he wasn't going to continue to perform the most basic of preparations, especially with all the yahoos out there gunning for them.

Using the car to cover his hand reaching down to grip the handle of the shotgun, he let the smartlink do its thing, coming online with a status update of the gun. Satisfied that he was as ready as could be in the event of trouble, he prepared to enter the car.

20:05:15 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Ground Floor Coffee Shop

Surprisingly punctual, the gangers showed up around 5 past when they said they would. Five of them total, just like Megan had instructed. John recognized the one she had talked to on the trid. Noticing them, Megan looked over at John and said, "OK chummer, they're here. Ready to go out and meet them?"

20:06:45 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Ground Floor Coffee Shop

John motioned for the check as he said, "Yeah, kid. Let's get this show on the road." Megan rolled her eyes and began to shrug on her coat.

After paying, he and Megan exited the coffee shop into the cold and wind and snow. He paused just outside to light a cigarette. She took a couple of impatient steps towards her chummers, before turning back to John, "Hoi, Nora's Uncle, you comin' or what?"

Taking a deep drag off of the cheap nico-stick, John zoomed in on the gangers, who had just noticed them exit the shop. While one of them, the kid from the trid, raised a hand and waved, John looked them over. He was looking for the usual: concealed weapons, obvious cyber, and the like. Exhaling a thin plume of bluish smoke, he caught up to Megan and said, "Lead the way."

He actually had to walk quickly as she hurried to across the slushy street, obviously anxious for the company of her friends and the relative protection they would provide. As they crossed the street, the old runner did his usual, reflexive scan of rooftops and doorways, darkened alleyways and the spaces between parked cars. You could never be too careful in the Barrens, especially if you happened to be responsible for starting a large gang brawl within the last few hours.

Finally joining up with the larger group, John watched and listened as greetings were exchanged. They all seemed to know Megan to some degree, and she seemed relieved to finally be around people she knew. Finally, the kid from the trid looked over at John, who was standing a little apart from the rest, lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. "So, this the fragger you was talking about? Nora's uncle? He looks old enough to be her grandpa!" This brought a few rude snickers from the rest of the group. "What's he want with Twiggy?"

Another kid piped in, "How you know he's her uncle?" The others stood around and tried to look tough, without a lot of success, at least not to John's eyes.

Megan took a step back from the group and said, "Hoi. Careful chummer. He's slottin' fast and tougher than he looks. As for him bein' Nora's uncle, I think he's on the level. He showed me this picture," she pulled the crumpled holo from her pocket and handed it to the trid-kid, "looks like a school pic or sumthin."

Then, with a quick glance at John, she quietly added, "Plus, I really think he's worried about her."

15:40:01 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Dragon's hand is already on the door handle, Sybersnake behind him, when he picks up the almost inaudibly pitched, sharply Dopplered shriek of an AVM heading straight for them.

Time stops.

He has time for the spatial recogniser to home in on the sound, time to realise that whatever launched it must be beyond the angle of the clinic roof, time to realise that its placement and the fact that the unseen rigger is using intelligent missiles means that all of them are completely cut off from any clinic cover, time almost to see the fragging thing in flight, spiralling down toward Father Bremen's open door -- it's going to go right in --

... time to realise Virgil and the others haven't noticed anything wrong yet ...

10:08:14 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Squinting against the sun leaking in around the blinds on his window, Tenmou sighed.

"When and where?"

20:00:35 January 6, 2063 - Neon Dreams, Ravenna

"Hmmm . . . that does sound sinfully exciting. Like being one of those sexy female assasians action movies use to sell tickets."

Erebus couldn't help but smile at her response, it seemed that her sense of excitement and desire for adventure had overcome any fear. Perhaps the fear unknown risk even excited her further.

"But you wouldn't be leading anyone to their death, though I think few men would care where they were following you."

Peering past the Angel's amazing figure Erebus relished the dirty looks that some of the trendy college kids were shooting him. She knows who the real man in the room is.

"So ,depending on how dangerous this turns out to be, do I get a small cut of the cred?"

20:00:40 January 6, 2063 - Neon Dreams, Ravenna

"Of course you'd be well paid for your time Angel. It would be just on the very edges of the shadows, and a story you could tell your friends."

Erebus allowed his eyes to slide slightly lower than meeting her gaze and then brought them back up to show her the mischievous grin.

"Trust me, you'd be the perfect distraction to any sec guard with an active pulse, and no one could blame the target for buying a lady a drink. I just wanted to know if you were interested or not. If it all comes together, I'll let you know."

Erebus pushed his untouched drink in front of her as she set down the one she'd finished. He leaned in and put a long arm across the back of the seat she occupied. He'd spend a few more minutes in idle conversation, just picking up gossip, to keep up appearances for the idle young men watching.

Angel leaned back into his arm where it rested on the seat, and turned into him a little with a smile full of her own brand of fun. She knew very well that some of the guys were watching her despite the show going on stage, and she also knew that Erebus avoided being the center of attention like it was a VITAS ridden devil rat. When she leaned towards him, giving him a peek at an interesting expanse of soft white flesh, it pulled the sleeve of his jacket tight and threatened to pull it open enough to show his hardware unless he leaned towards in her too. When he face was only a couple of inches away from her she grinned again.

"You stay out of trouble now Tiger, and definitely give me a call, work or no."

With a quick move she planted a light kiss on his cheek and then stood in one smooth motion and sashayed across the floor like she knew that every eye would follow her as surely as water flowed downhill.

Erebus leaned back in his seat and watched the show with idle eyes, giving it enough time so that his own departure wouldn't seem attached to Angel's.

When he judged enough time had passed he scooped up his helmet and headed out for his bike, he had a meet to make.

15:40:02 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

And even as Dragon notices, tracks, searches for its source, thinks he might be picking up something else: he's already moving.

In an impossible blur of motion he hurls Sybersnake away from the vehicle and to the ground, so hard that he almost dislocates her arm -- but she's that crucial few metres clear and on the ground, Dragon's already spun around for the reporter, who is starting to look like maybe, maybe she's picked up that something isn't right -- but there's no time, and completely on instinct she's managed to resist him just enough to break the rhythm of his momentum and accidentally pull herself twisted and off-balance before a bone in her leg audibly snaps and she falls on top of Sybersnake.

Dragon doesn't have time to pay attention to that just now. He's already half jumped, half slid across the trunk of the small car to the other side where Father Bremen is still standing, holding the door open for the incoming missile. But Virgil first: further away, and now completely clear as Dragon spins into him feet first and sends him flying back almost into the clinic -- and the mercenary staggers too, but he'd been expecting that and lets the sudden change of momentum carry his feet back to the ground and his body into Father Bremen. A slight sobbing groan from Virgil as he's lying on the pavement, trying to pull air back into his lungs before he can slowly work on picking himself up -- but as long as he doesn't make it any closer to the car before that missile impacts he should be all right.

Dragon's back and shoulders thud heavily into the priest where he's still standing, holding the car door, just inside it -- and stop --

15:36 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Redmond Barrens, Cao Jaan's halfway house

"Of course, I have no doubt that you are a busy man and I appreciate someone of your training showing interest in what will most likely be a low-level job by your standards. I am fully willing to provide the most flexible constraints on your time that can be applied. Once darkness falls around these parts those left on the streets are truly left for the dogs. I am most interested in you providing your recon skills after nightfall, the day-time hours would leave you free from those responsibilites."

10:08:32 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"It sounds like a simple delivery job. The Johnson who contacted me wants you to pick up a delivery at the Green Thumb Florist in Northern Auburn. Deliver the package to a guy named "Vinnie" at a restaurant called the Spaghetti Palace. The delivery needs to be to the right person, so they've worked out a code-exchange. You say to "Vinnie" the phrase "Time to pay the piper, Vinnie." At that point, "Vinnie" should reply "The check is in the mail." Once you've dropped off the package with the right guy, contact the Johnson and he'll arrange for payment. Questions?"

Zeyda rattles off the details of the job from the notes on his p-sec.

20:08:45 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Street in front of Oodles of Noodles

One of the gangers looks at Megan, then John, as if he's measuring the truth of their words, and finally nods sharply. "All right old man, here's the deal. We help you find Twiggy, you help him and Nora get out of whatever drek they're in. No leaving him hung out to dry after he helps you get what you want, scan?"

Before John can nod, the ganger continues, "We can take you to his usual haunts and Underground 93, which Megan tells me you know about. After that though, you're drek outta luck with help from us, cause if he didn't come running to us to hide, I have no idea where he might have gone."

The kid sticks out a hand. "So how about it, we got a deal?"

10:09:21 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"Sounds pretty straightforward..." Tenmou said. "The Spaghetti Palace... is it in Auburn as well? Also, what time of day does this all go down?"

20:21:21 January 6, 2063 Hwy 520/Bellevue Eastbound

Erebus kept his body low over the purring engine of his Rapier as he moved quickly through traffic towards the 405 exchange. It would have been quicker to take I-90 but that would have required going through the checkpoints on Council Island which would leave an electronic record of Gus Larsen's passing. It happened often enough but he had time tonight so he avoided it on his way towards the Barrens.

He tried to still his thoughts and simply enjoy the purely physical sensations of the ride, but it was hard this evening. He was looking for his focus, that place where his busy thoughts stilled and he simply existed in the moment, but tonight he had trouble settling his mind.

When he was nineteen he'd read Sun Tzu's The Art of War and it had made almost no sense to him until he'd talked it over with Trooper. The older merc had helped explain that a warrior would often view all of existence as an extension of war, and Erebus had come to understand that to a degree. Amanda had certainly viewed all of existence as a war. Part of Sun Tzu's advise dealt with timing.

When the hawk strikes its prey and breaks its back it is surely because of timing.

Erebus felt uneasy because part he was unsure of his timing. He was moving, and in movement there was risk. He had to expose himself to advance his position and that exposure made him uneasy. He knew that he had to move because he was quickly running out of resources to hide, and he also knew that any moves he made would have to involve the network of contacts he'd made here in Seattle. It just felt wrong, he wasn't sure of how to deal with all of them, and it made it difficult to think his way through all of the possible outcomes. The threads and possibilities ran endlessly through his mind, and trying to keep them all straight was like trying to weave a tapestry in the dark, operating totally by feel and not even certain where all the threads were much less where they fit.

Angel for example, Erebus felt little or nothing for her beyond her potential as a source of information or as an agent in one of his plays, but she obviously was interested in a greater connection to him personally. He'd played that game, gotten very close and it hurt. He still felt the longings for personal connections but was afraid of them as a weakness at the same time. Just dealing with the dancer involved a dozen possible outcomes and he needed to keep them all in mind when dealing with her, and that was just one of the many people he dealt with in the shadows. He revved his engine and felt the tug of the wind, a minor venting of his frustration.

Amanda had always kept her distance, even from him, even when he shared her bed and her business both, she made sure he always remembered that he could be replaced. That callous attitude had been both a challenge and an insult and was in part why he'd left, and he kept that in mind when dealing with his own contacts, he wouldn't let them see him as uncaring, it would be counter-productive. He just didn't know how to steer the middle course to keep them from being too close to him as well.

Am I moving too soon? Should I wait to begin operations until I've got a better handle on all of these people?

But he couldn't really wait, it took money to stay hidden and he'd used up his nest egg in his last relocation. Whether the time was right or not would have to be seen but he knew he didn't really have much choice.

Maybe that was the problem, I allowed myself to be put into a position where my actions were dictated by other than my choice. He just wasn't sure.

With an conscious effort he tried to put aside his thought, his concerns for the meet, he plans for the future and just drive. Fisting the throttle yet again he slide through the traffic, far more successful at driving than at stilling his uneasy mind.

20:11:02 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Street in front of Oodles of Noodles

Taking the final drag off of his cigarette, John flicked the smoking butt away. Then, with a quick look towards Megan, he extends his hand and steps forward. "It's a deal as long as one thing is understood: my main concern is Nora. I'll help Twiggy if I can, but if I have to choose between the two... well, he'll be on his own. If you guys can live with that, we got a deal."

Returning his gaze to the young elf, he said, "As far as tracking Twiggy down, I thought Megan here knew where to find him. Not where to look for him. Which is it, kid?"

10:09:37 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"It's on the other side of Auburn, and the delivery is to be made at 2100 sharp."

15:40:32 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Even after the unscheduled stop, it only costs Dragon another split second to orient himself (and another to force breath into his lungs: the impact had knocked the wind out of him).

Between the combination of Dragon's velocity and Father Bremen's sheer mass, the car door shivers and the hinges protest, but somehow remain in one piece. The continuing background whine of the incoming missile reminds the mercenary that it's probably a moot point ... and now he's hearing something else joining it, something beyond the low-level background hum now coming from both sides. "Move it!" he screams at him; and then, when he fails to do so immediately, grabs the troll's arm in a universal come-along that ought to work even on people much bigger than him: "Clusterfuck! Run!"

He's still working on getting Father Bremen moving when that other sound finally connects. He'd been right, he had heard it before -- but never up in the air where an armoured Condor had suddenly descended out of the sky and a pop-down turret had descended out of its belly; and the submachine gun opened up a burst straight at the two women. The fragging thing had not only come down neatly in a fast glide just across the roofs on the opposite side of the street from where the missile was coming at them, but was still using those roofs for cover. Dragon would have been much more inclined to appreciate the elegance of the crossfire that had been set up had he not been one of those caught in it.

It could have been worse. They could have been concealed by a city spirit.

The mercenary tells his inner devil's advocate to shut up, and concentrates rapidly on their options.

15:40 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Redmond Barrens, Cao Jaan's halfway house

Knight's lips curl into a smile "Dusk till dawn watchman, not a problem Mr Jaan, of course I am more than willing to provide my services when ever i am here and not actually resting. I`ve been left for the dogs enough times to know what it means to find a friendly face."

Knight stretches a little and regards the rest of the room before looking back to Cao. "I think any other needs to do with such things can be arranged on a case by case basis and i doubt anything much will be calling to my attentions at all for the next few days. Perfect for settling in and getting a feel for the area, both physically and astrally." his fingers tap idley upon Rosekiss "that will help both with the searching and for any security needs, however i would still advise in investing in a little elemental protection."

Knight sits up straight again, study Cao a little "Is there anything else you need to tell me about the local area, Mr Jaan? I know you said the gangs that may cause problems have no magic, that you know of, but are there say any city shamans who reside locally or street witches? Just incase they have more esotoric turf that i`d hate to intrude upon?..."

Because that would really be awkward if there is his thoughts trail off, finishing the sentance

15:40:33 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

OK, frag the damn priest, I tried twice, and if he's too damn stupid to take a fragging hint, I'm not taking any responsibility here, and I sure as hell ain't gonna be here when this missile hits because he feels like being a slow-witted moron. Grr...one...more...try...

With everything he's got, Dragon kicks Father Bremen square in the hoop, and yells, "Get the frag moving dammit!" Taking his own advice, he instinctively uses the momentum of his kick to propel himself backwards towards the trunk.

Diving into a roll over the trunk, he comes up in a crouch with the shotgun in his hand, running towards the two women. He can tell immediately that Tiffany must have broken something in her fall, and is pinning Sybersnake down inadvertantly as a result.

Honing in on the drone perched on the roof, Dragon carefully aims as best he can while running full tilt, letting the rangefinder mark off the distance while the smartlink does its best to lock in on the drone.

After what seems like a much longer span of time than actually occurred, he comes to a stop over the two women, using his body to shield them from the drone's fire. "Get to cover now!!!" he screams, just as the smartlink alerts him that he's got the best shot he's likely to get under the circumstances.

Here it is...take the shot... Calmly, he settles the shotgun in and pulls the trigger, watching the shell streak towards its target.

21:17:04 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Trade Winds Hotel, Los Angeles, CFS

The drive back to the Trade Winds was long and irritating, made all the more so by the lack of anything to do and anyone to punch when her anger demanded nothing less. She took a deep breath and made an effort to pull her long hair into a ponytail without pulling the roots out as well. Long, slender fingers stabbed at the keypad of her pocket secretary as Cosmo dialed Drago's phone yet again, growling softly when it took longer than one ring for him to answer.

"Tino? Ahh, buona sera. I hope this is not a bad time?" Her tone shifts instantly from gravelly growls to liquid honey. "No, I'm doing well and yes .. lunch was better than anything I've had in months." She laughed softly and shook her head, forcing herself to stop stalking around the small room and take a seat. "Kind of you to say, 'Tino, thank you; I enjoyed your company as well. No, unfortunately this isn't strictly a social call. I have another serial number for you, whenever you're ready...."

Cosmo chuckles and considers the five boxes stacked neatly under her bed. A spare bit of money would do wonders for her mood.

"Yes, I have five boxes in all and I was wondering if you could help me find a home for them."

15:40:40 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Releasing the trigger, Dragon knows he's got a hit even before the shell sprays sparks against the armour of the Condor LDSD-41, staggering it slightly. The question is, will it be enough?

He spares another split second to re-assess his environment.

Propelled by Dragon, the priest had stumbled back, then involuntarily follows the direction of the mercenary's suggested momentum sideways, in the same general direction but at an angle from where Virgil ended up. He keeps his feet, too. But at least he's out of probable blast range ... for now. And it doesn't look like he's likely to move on his own initiative before the missile homes in. Good.

Tiffany's starting to move, trying to get up, crumpling when the leg isn't holding her weight, teeth gritted, crawling, trying to pull Sybersnake behind her -- toward the car? No no NO -- "AWAY from the car!!!" screams the mercenary, suddenly realising that she was obeying his instructions, but that she had no way of knowing anything was attacking them other than the drone's SMG ... and that the car itself would have provided reasonable cover against that. For a minor miracle she hears -- and it connects, she draws her trenchcoat up over her and Sybersnake and, keeping low, begins working her way toward one of the small alleys opposite the clinic.

The missile screaming in is very loud in Dragon's hearing, now. Somehow, I don't think the insurance is going to cover this.

10:10:03 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"Alright. I'll help you out. Any idea how big the parcel is I'm delivering tonight?" Tenmou asked.

10:10:28 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"No clear idea, but the Johnson indicated that it could be comfortably carried by one individual. If you're going to a florist, my guess is it's a flower box."

21:17:19 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Trade Winds Hotel, Los Angeles, CFS

"Five altogether? It's not quite as easy to move together. If you're looking to unload them at once, I can only get you about five thousand each. If you want to space them out a bit, I could get you more. It's up to you."

The sound of the restaurant is audible behind Tino's voice.

1325 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - Puyallup, still not too far from the civic centre, giving up on Shadowland for now, on her way to her doss

"What do you want, Grail?"

"Want? I thought we were an anarcho-syndicalist commune."

Alleycat bit back an unvocalised snarl before the microphone could pick up on it. "You're not calling just to inquire as to the state of my health."

"Now that you mention it we're all fine, just a minor weapons malfunction, radiation leak, thanks for asking. ... How are you?"

Five seconds of utter, flat, silence.

"That good, huh?"

Ten seconds, this time.

"Kibo, the Imperial officers should have taken lessons from you. Listen, you going to keep building yourself into the swamp, or were you actually serious about what you were asking?" And, a few seconds later: "Or shall I just describe what you're wearing, right now?"

Tightly: "I'm listening."

"Finally. Kibo, I guess I shouldn't really be all that surprised, it's a small wonder that you're finally paying attention at all."

Her breath caught. "What?" Where did you get that?

"Now we're back on track. Now that I've finally got your attention, were you really serious about what you were asking? Because if you are, I've got a proposal for you. You tell me about the girl you're trying to find -- and I'll spare you the painful part, it's Blaze's girlfriend, isn't it? --"

"Cousin," Alleycat corrected automatically. Pure coincidence. It had been pure coincidence, that was all.

"Girlfriend, cousin, niece, whatever. Anyway, here's the deal. I do some serious hunting up on her."

"You'd do that anyway," Alleycat pointed out, fighting to regain her balance, far too aware of the near impossibility of doing so in any conversation of which Grail was a part.

"Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't -- but what's to say I'd tell you either way? or maybe I'd tell someone else?"

It's hard, trying to read him like this. She took a chance: "I don't think you would. I don't think it's in you to do."

"And you know me so well, do you?"

"No," she said honestly. "But Hobbes does."

A delighted laugh. "Touché. So we can deal. I need a message delivered, Lance. You need visas and SIN and a bunch of other things that are really starting to rack up your account. Do this, and --"

"And you'll wipe the slate clean?" she asks, not really expecting it.

"Of course not! Do I look like I'm pining for the fjords?"

"Fine," she sighs. "How much, and what exactly do you want in exchange?"

"Just like that? We're supposed to haggle!"

She thinks briefly about mentioning that she really doesn't have the time. Like that has a chance in hell of going over ...

Tick ... Tick ... Tick ...

10:10:58 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"Fair enough. I get my affairs in order and I'll give myself plenty of time between pick up and delivery," Tenmou said.

After a brief pause, Tenmou smirks. "Thanks for the work, Zeyda."

10:11:06 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

"Not a problem. Watch your back out there."

Zeyda disconnects from the call.

20:11:34 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Street in front of Oodles of Noodles

The gangers look at him like he’s on drugs. “Find, look, what the hell’s the difference?” one of them asks. Right…gangers…no education…like they would know the difference. To them it’s probably the same thing. You’re losing your connection with the streets, Johnny-boy.

Shaking his head wearily, John replies, “You’re right, forget I asked. Well, what do you say? We got a deal?”

The gangers look at each other warily for a bit, then one of them nods at Megan who turns to John and smiles. “Deal. Well, where you want to look first? The club, or his place?”

20:13:55 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Street in front of Oodles of Noodles

John wondered if he looked as stunned as he felt. Wha...? That's it? Those are the only leads? The only places that they know to look for this kid? Fraggin' drek, that's no choice at all. What happened to all of Megan's "I know where he's at and I'll lead you to him" talk? Was she bluffing? This better not be some sort of scam.

He took a deep, calming breath and silently regarded the group of street-kids before continuing. "If those are the choices, then we'd better start with the club. If Twiggy has half a brain, and is in as much trouble as you guys say, then there's no way he went back to his place. The clinic men sounded like pros, so I'm sure they've already found his doss. They're probably still watching the place."

The last caused Megan and the kid she'd called on the trid, who John assumed was the leader of the little group, to exchange a quick glance. What, are they worried? Surely they'd already thought of that? The girl seems quicker than that, at least.

"So, let's save his place until we have no other choice. Hopefully Twiggy's cousin will know something. We'll hit the club first and see what's what. Lead the way."

Silently hoping that one of the kids had a car so they wouldn't have to tube or bus it to Puyallup, John resisted the urge to light another cigarette and waited for the kids to reply.

15:41:28 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

The spray of bullets shudders through the armoured jacket, almost through the form-fitting body armour, and the hidden 'ware redistributes the remainder of the translated kinetic energy and absorbs it ... just. The sheer kinetic energy of all those bullets impacting against his armour at once had almost driven him back a step, his heel touching Tiffany's arm, and he forces himself to keep from overbalancing and windmilling, arcing backwards into the car. Certainly there will be bruises: but under the circumstances, getting away with some incidental bruising was very nearly the best Dragon could possibly have hoped for. Even better, he'd actually managed to block the thing from Sybersnake. His armour's starting to take some serious punishment, but better armour than skin and bones. When he'd first spotted that turret come out, a range of much worse possibilities had flashed through his mind.

Unfortunately, one of them had been the Ares Antioch which had now made its appearance from a second pop-down turret. And -- somewhere behind him, at the very edge of his peripheral vision -- no, above -- in front of him? -- had something fallen from the sky?

Before he can make sense of that sudden shriek of clashing metal, Dragon's world turns into a fiery inferno of flying shrapnel.

15:41:28 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

When the fire clears away a little ... Huh. We're all in one piece, more or less. I didn't really believe that would work.

And then all five of them stare as the SMG-wielding drone "staggers", just misses the edge of the rooftops, almost recovers, and then goes arcing down into the street a few metres away from them. The grenade which had been primed in the Ares rolls loose, and begins billowing smoke.

The other, now dented, Condor which had falcon-stooped on it is wobbling a little as it struggles to regain some altitude.

"Ow," says Tiffany.

15:41:30 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Ouch! Daedalus flinches as he struggles to regain his bearings.

Ah headache… that stupid bus…

Reflecting back to the events of that morning: He remembers stumbling off the greyhound at the crack of dawn after what felt like a cross country session of sleep-deprivement torture. Head pounding, he had grabbed his luggage and took a cab to the studio apartment in Tahoma that Shifty had secured for him. Getting up to the room Daedalus had resisted the urge to collapse and sleep like the dead.

A soldier knows his weapons and capabilities, one like Dragon has his guns and his speed, someone like Virgil has his other… mystical attributes to make him dangerous. I have to rely on my mind to make a difference on the field of battle... well, my mind, Talos and Icarus. Remembering that it is never a good idea to be caught without your weapons ready, he wearily set forth reassembling his not-quite-stock LS Strato-9 drone and LDSD 41 “Condor” drone.

Ugh... we’re in the world, its not like this is a warzone, what could possibly happen here? ... But that doubt was quickly quashed knowing full well that in case anything did happen, his mind may not make the same type of impact as Talos’ MMG.

Besides, I can’t leave you guys like this, how undignified.

He smiled tiredly looking at his drones, disassembled for transport and sitting in their luggage bags. And with that he harnessed the discipline afforded him by his military training to stay up just a bit longer to restore his drones to their fully functional selves…

… which turns out to be a darn good thing he remarks to himself as he snaps back to the present and fights to regain control of Icarus to keep the drone from plummeting to the ground after the collision.

Having stabilized himself he looks down and sees Dragon and the others standing around the smoldering wreckage Dragon’s former car, staring up at him and the result of Icarus’ high speed banzai drop on the SMG toting drone.

Hrm… I suppose I should give him a call back now…

Just as Daedalus begins mentally dialing the number, a small flicker of movement catches his eye from edge of Icarus’ sensory field, where the other drone, the one that had just destroyed Dragon’s car had been hovering… oh frag...

1335 Saturday, January 6, 2063 - at her Puyallup doss

"All right," Alleycat sighs, "The visas, telling me what you find out about Blaze's cousin, and the Petra SIN in exchange for delivering your message. SIN should have been tossed in for free anyway ... if it's as hot as you say."

"That SIN's still airtight anywhere outside Seattle," Grail points out reasonably. "It's only in Seattle that it's hot -- and Seattle's not the centre of the universe. Most of the time, anyway."

She waits.

"The visas, they aren't going half bad, even if the whole Bigio situation is unstable as hell, so sure, we'll add those in."

What do the visas have to do with the Bigio situation? Grail had been getting them through Durin's connections ... And then she smiles in that sudden flash of understanding: Of course. He's mob-connected. That's probably the marker that got him pulled off the run.

"But the SIN -- Lance, this is some good work here. It would actually be easier just to fudge the Star records than to create something like this."

"All right," she sighs. "Forget it then."

"Forget it?"

"Isn't that what you meant?"

"No, no," explains Grail patiently, "you counter-offer half its base price now."

"All right," she repeats. "Half price, then."

"Half price?! Are you joking?!"

"But that's what you told me to say."

"Oh, dear."

"Look, just tell me what to say," says a very tired Alleycat, not even fighting it. It's easier, and for sure it will be faster.

"You really aren't used to haggling, are you?"

"Does it show?" she asks ironically.

"No," answers Grail. "Short form: we'll fix it at the visas and a third off the SIN. And I'll even throw in Blaze's cousin for free. Wait, that doesn't come out evenly --"

"Never mind," she says quickly. "Make it a quarter off and we'll agree that the difference covers the search."

"That's all? For that kind of search?"

"But you just gave it to me for nothing."

"Yes, but it's worth ten K!"

She hangs up on him.

15:41:31 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Taking a moment to make sure the drone was no longer a threat, Dragon ran over to Tiffany and Sybersnake . A quick glance at the reporter's leg told him all he needed to know about her mobility. Keeping his senses alert for any other threats that might be out there, he immediately instructed, " Sybersnake, get the two of you to cover now, I'll cover you."

15:42:02 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

The reporter smiles painfully at him. "Stupid, huh?"

Sybersnake struggles slowly to her feet, staring at the wreckage still raining down around her. "Shi-ite," she says slowly, and with feeling. Bracing Tiffany's arm around her shoulders, she manages to get the reporter to her feet as well, balancing awkwardly. "Could use a little help here, Father," she calls out to the priest, who's still standing on the other side of the flaming wreckage of what was once a Ford Americar.

10:11:06 Sunday 07 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Once Zeyda had hung up, Tenmou went through his daily routines of exercise and meditation, before he opened his duffel bag and cleaned his swords and the Ingram Smartgun, before packing them again.

Around 1700, Tenmou suited up in his form fitting armor, before dressing for business in a nice shirt and pants. Grabbing his duffel bag, he walked to his car to scope out the delivery point, before heading out to pick up the package.

20:24:21 January 6, 2063 Hwy 520/Bellevue Eastbound

The feeling of the night air whipping by his exposed form brought Erebus a moment of calm introspection. He'd put a few leads out for potential work and knowing the shadows of this city something was bound to turn up soon. He was even starting to feel more comfortable with the handling of the Rapier.

As he passed a sign indicating his exit in two miles Erebus noticed that the the Nissan Jackrabbit that had recently merged ahead of him was starting to move quite erratically.

Fraggin drunken moron. Autopilot exists for a reason, and even the system on that bargain car has got to be smarter than you.

Twisting the throttle Erebus leans to move to the right lane when the front tires of the Jackrabbit break lose, causing the car to fishtail across the path that he'd just chosen for his lane-change . . .

20:24:21 January 6, 2063 Hwy 520 - Bellevue

Oh fragging drek!

Erebus leaned into the turn more, hoping to sneak in between the spinning commuter car and the thick ferrocrete "Jersey" barrier lining the edge of the busy roadway.

He hesitated, taking a split second to eye the distances and estimate his chances of avoiding a far too personal meeting with either the hood of the car or various portions of the roadway, torn between grabbing a fistful of throttle or slamming on the breaks.

Adrenaline raced through him, powered by the cyberware and bioware augmentations, and he had to fight against his own reactions. All the the body modifications he'd done made him faster and stronger and he'd trained himself to use all of that in time of danger, only now his reactions were all wrong. His muscles quivered with the needed to dive and roll, and he had to fight the automatic reaction of his right hand to release the handlebar and reach for his gun.

All that nuyen spent on these nifty mods and they all mean zilch when some moron can't control his car. If he wasn't busy being terrified he'd probably find it funny. Hmmm, this might hurt.

Erebus clenched his teeth and grabbed a fistful of throttle.

20:14:05 Sunday 07 January 2063 – The Street in front of Oodles of Noodles

Then it occurred to him. They were street kids. SINless. Hell, home was as likely to be the gang hangout with a spare room as it was a real, genuine apartment. So maybe it wasn’t that far of a stretch that the kid headed back there to be with all his friends. Still, it wasn’t like John was going to admit he might be wrong, especially given the circumstances.

The kid from the trid, the one Megan had talked to, nodded and stuck out his hand. “All right, we’ll go to the club first. You can call me Tyler .”

Nodding back and shaking his hand firmly, but not aggressively, John nods. “Lead the way kid.”

Luckily, the group had arrived in a van, albeit a beat up old one that barely looked like it would run, but it’d suffice. Here’s hoping this actually gets me somewhere, and not just a dead end. I’m coming for you Nora .

21:04:45 Sunday 07 January 2063 – Near Underground 93

About an hour or so later, they arrived at Underground 93 , and John could practically hear the kinks in his legs working themselves out as he stepped out of the van. Leaving the group at the corner down the block from the club, Tyler turned to the group. “Wait here, I’m going to find Twiggy’s cousin,” he explains.

A couple minutes later, he comes back, a large, intimidating bouncer dressed in black walking alongside him. When he gets to the group, the bouncer glares at John , not bothering to hide the fact that he’s checking him out. “I hear you’re looking for my cousin. What’s your deal?” It wasn’t really a question, so much as a demand for an explanation.

John sized up the bouncer in return, and gathered his thoughts to reply.

20:24:22 Saturday January 6, 2063 Hwy 520 - Bellevue

Twisting the throttle hard Erebus threw his weight to the left and was greeted with a sharp chirp as the tires came alive with the sudden shift in momentum. He had been very careful to make soft turns during his night's riding so as to not exceed the safe level of his minimal experience . . .safety is all relative at this point.

The Rapier dipped towards the pavement and Erebus felt that in a nanosecond his body would be acting as a secondary brake pad for the speeding bike. But then the suspension of the Rapier took hold, as if to shout agreement with all the trid adds proclaiming the machine's 'race-bred' lineage.

Zipping past what would have been the moment of impact Erebus could just make note of the Jackrabbit slamming passenger-side first into the plascrete barrier on the right side of the highway, he didn't dare risk turning his head to look.

15:41 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Redmond Barrens, Cao Jaan's halfway house

"Those that display the Talent soon realize that they have a quick trip out of an area like this. There are no street Shamans or the like nearby that would be trying to defend their territory Any shamans or mages we'd see around here are most likly laying-low for some reason or another and would probably want to avoid contact even more than those of us here would."

Trying to anticipate what other recon questions Knight might have Cao Jaan continues on with his report . . .

"We are also far enough away from any toxic zones that we don't have to watch for things that might come crawling out of the sewers . . . or worse."

Knight spies a small sudder working it's way up Cao Jaan's spine, though the room is well heated.

"Am I forgetting anything?"

15:42:30 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

By the miracles of technolgy Daedalus connects with with Dragon and the following message pours out at literally the speed of thought:

"Dragon, you are about to have a VERY bad day. Another missle was launched masked by the explosion of the first one. Get everyone out of the way as superhumanly possible."

15:42:30 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Dammit to hell, when it rains it fragging pours. Yeesh, what next? A tank coming down the street? Er, maybe I better not jinx us any more than we already are...

Immediately transmitting his response at the speed of thought, Dragon flies back into action. "Daedalus, I'm already having a very bad day. Gotta hand it to you though, great timing. Do you have a point of impact the missile is targeting? I'd like to avoid running to the place it's going to hit. Which way should I get everyone moving to? And can you do anything about the fragger who's firing these missiles at us?"

20:41:01 January 6, 2063 - 161 S.E. Street Bellevue

His hands had stopped shaking. In retrospect Erebus actually enjoyed that rush, the pounding adrenaline and the knowledge that life and death were only a breath away. He had to fight to keep a grin off his face and he cruised through the streets of Touristville towards the club. If he didn't enjoy that sort of rush, the crystalline sensory awareness and the feeling of being totally wonderfully alive that always seemed to come only when death hung in the balance, he would have found a different occupation a long time ago.

He dropped his bike off in front of a bar about two blocks from the nightclub, the place had almost a dozen other street bikes parked there, and decided to walk to the meeting. He doubted any of the local street apes would be stupid enough to go messing with someone's bike in front of a place like that when they had no way of knowing which of the beer chugging knuckle-draggers inside it belonged to. It was about as secure a location as he was likely to find in the Barrens without having to pay.

20:53:01 Saturday January 6, 2063 - Touristville

Confident that his bike would be as safe as possible considering the area Erebus strode quickly across the two blocks between the biker bar and the Paradigm Shift. Noticing that the small crowds strolling the sidewalks as they milled from nightspot to nightspot Erebus couldn't help but snicker to himself.
Rich corporate brats out 'slumming' in the barrens. rebelling against your uptight corp parents. . . just not far enough to leave the comfy nest egg. As much as it irked him to be surrounded by the uppity youth crowd at least he had less pairs of hands to watch, and the increased Lonestar presence that the rich-crowd brought to the area could be a benefit as well.

Turning a corner Erebus avoided the mass of humanity filtering itself into lines at the massive glowing maw of the Paradigm Shift and instead strode straight around the back of the building. Sure enough the lot behind the club had been purchased and converted to serve as a VIP parking lot. The valets taking keys at the clubs entrance drove the luxury vehicles around and parked them behind the safety of the four meter high chain-link fence. Working for tips that wouldn't even cover the insurance of cars like those.

The gate to the lot featured separate lanes for entering and exiting traffic with a small concrete island separating the drives. The island was host to a small security hut filled with the blinking lights of several surveillance monitors. A human male sat inside the hut bent over the various screens. Standing outside the hut was a large but clean-cut troll wearing street leathers and brandishing an unusually large stun baton. No doubt he's carrying some heavier heat in a more concealed fashion. But spotting an extra bulge on a mass of metahuman that size was virtually impossible.

As he closed the distance to within a half-block Erebus could feel himself at the center of the troll's attention, and locked into his field of vision. . .

15:42:12 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

When your reflexes are not artificially enhanced by advancements in cybertechnology it is difficult to understand just how quick a merc who has had their reflexes wired can be. Staring at the smoldering heap of twisted scrap metal that was Dragon's car but a moment ago Virgil is very aware that if Dragon had not been able to move at such a freakishly high pace, they would all have a place amongst the flaming crater in the street.

It's a good thing that neither of us keeps track of how many times one has saved the life of the other Scanning the scene in front of him Virgil can see Dragon tracing the sky with the muzzle of his spas. No doubt I will have a chance to return the favor very soon.

Tiffany and Sybersnake were struggling to get to better cover and his first step was towards the two women, Wait! One or two men standing alone is a waste of ammo . . .three or more men is a target . . or however one of Dragon's morbid merc sayings went. Knowing that he would not be strong enough to move the women quickly enough to be safe Virgil is relived when the mountain that is Father Bremen moves over towards them.

Time to earn my keep. Backing away from the car and back towards the clinic Virgil begins to gather the words of power around him. We are out-gunned and out-positioned. Watchers of the city, I am in dire need of your help in order to ensure the survival of my friends. Please send me the embrace of your protectors.

Virgil did not think that his called seemed as strong as he would have liked, but his ears were still ringing from the explosion and none of them had time for him to settle himself. However his call was enough and in a heartbeat he felt the comforting presence of a city spirit hovering above his aura.

Now where did those two watchers get to?

15:45 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Redmond Barrens, Cao Jaan's halfway house

Knight shakes his head, though his eyebrow raises almost imperceptively as he detects that momentary hesitation and distaste..

Fear perhaps?..at what I wonder

..in Cao's voice.

"Nothing else that i can think of directly, Mr Jaan, the only question which remains is the rather regrettable one of cred. You have engaged my services for sure, Mr Jaan. But i would like to know how much Nuyen a week you are offering me for my services?"

Knight awaits to hear the number but isnt really listening.

This is a pretty good deal. Crash space and a job that will at least feed me. It's well ignored enough that if anyone does come looking for me I doubt they'll find much of anything and with there being a zero of other Awakened here abouts it will be easy to spot anyone snooping about.

Mentally e also lists the precautions worth doing here, some warding and elemental support will be a must. Despite Cao's reluctance a fire elemental will scare the hell out of most street dwellers and if things do go down during his stay it would provide invaluable fire support. Watchers too will prove useful. But it will all cost.

Knight nods as Cao speaks.

"Very well, Mr Jaan. I shall start tomorrow, I have some things to take care of tonight. Personal things, friends to call, dates to reschedule..you understand."

He leans forwards a little and smiles as Cao takes the offered hand.

"A pleasure to be working with you"

15:42:31 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

"We've got another missile incoming! Stay sharp! Virgil, send a watcher or something, and track down the rigger and the missile ASAP!"

Great, when it rains it pours. Better stay sharp, and see if I can figure out where that missile is heading before it gets here.

15:42:31 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

City guardian, please conceal myself and my companions over there so that we can escape to safety.

Danagrath, move down that alley and scout for enemies. Warn the women holding the gun if there is any danger.

Not even sparing a nano-second to watch the two spirits move across the astral plane to carry out their instructions Virgil instantly begins extending his concentration to fall across the auras of his friends. If this is the same team that ambushed us earlier they might not have had time to replace their fallen mage. But that would be a dangerous assumption to make given an enemy with an unknown amount of resources.

15:44:02 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

As he's laying out the magical protections the missile finally makes its appearance. In fact, it screams right over Virgil's head. It's spiralling and wobbling, like it's having difficulty orienting on its target -- and then it straightens, like it's going to go ... past the burning car?

15:44:02 Saturday, January 6th, 2063 - Puyallup Street Clinic

Realising his inability to assist with the missile, Daedalus quickly redirects his perceptions through Icarus's sensors to check that the downed drone is indeed still down and then looks to track the flight of the Condor that started this situation.

"It looks to be an AVM, should be dodgable. Attacker is fleeing, will moniter. Warning: downed bird is still probably operational. Godspeed."