0240 Saturday January 6, 2063- Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

After following the watcher for almost thirty minutes, Blaze comes to a stop about a block away from a large warehouse. Manifesting and pointing over his shoulder, the watcher purrs, "There it is master...she was in there..." Flicking his vision to astral, Blaze sees nothing...at least outside the warehouse.

Looking down the street at the warehouse, there are numerous abandoned buildings, as well as large piles of rubble, sitting as a testament to where buildings once stood. All in all, an excellent place to hide out from people who are looking for you...or a trap.

1228 Saturday January 6th, 2063 - Virgil's Redmond Safehouse

Pulling the spare Guardian from its holster and sliding it to Sybersnake, never breaking focus, Dragon replies, "It's fully loaded, you probably won't be firing it on burst, so it should last you."

Still keeping his eyes on the door, he unfolds the retractable stock on the shotgun. Hearing it lock into place with a satisfying *click*, he then answers the shaman, "I think it's time to exit, stage left. Can you summon up some spirit cover for us? Maybe even some watchers or something, just to cover us and keep us posted while looking out for trouble?"

(double post...)

(triple post...Dumpshock or my comp is being weird. Sorry)

01:00:00 Monday 01 January 2063 - Somewhere in California Free State

The light was omni-present, a brilliant pure embrace that reached her even through closed eyelids. She smiled, knowing that it was the dream come to comfort her. But subtle things were wrong. The dream was always warm, always filled with a quiet shush of running water. Here was chill, goosebumps rising over her skin, and all she heard was a distant, dull hammer. Eyes still closed, she groped for the covers, a lazy half-asleep motion that froze when her hand touched smooth synthetic. Opening her eyes, she glanced around, her sleep-fogged mind attempting to reconstruct the events of the previous night. Correction: she tried to open her eyes, something sticky was gumming the lids together, and she could only make out indistinct shapes in the room. She reached up to wipe her eyes clear, realizing only too late that the same substance was also coating her hand.

As if triggered by her gesture, a deluge of water cascaded down over her in an icy bath. Her scream of surprise and shock was cut short by the natural seizing of her chest and diaphragm. Groping blindly for the edge of the bed, she flung herself over it, crashing to the cold concrete floor with enough force to bring tears to her eyes. Mercifully, though, she was out of the frigid shower. Blinking her eyes against the stinging brightness and the foul-tasting slime that dripped from her hair, she hugged her legs to her chest, trying to find some warmth.

The room revealed itself to be a small chamber, only four meters wide and eight meters long. Every surface was covered in dingy white tile, even the ceiling and floor. The near end was dominated by the bed she’d awoken on, along with a dozen unidentified pieces of electronic machinery. On the far end was a doorway, closed by an unmarked white panel. Nearby, set along the wall, was a table with several items on it.

Shivering, Cosmo lurched to her feet, holding on to the edge of the table for support. Folded neatly on the table were, in order: a plain white towel, a cotton/poly blend sports bra and panties, the gray shirt and pants of a set of Form Fitting Body Armor, a charcoal gray blouse, black slacks, black socks, and a pair of Magnum Street Tac boots, also black. Next was a small black nylon bag which proved to have a comb, toothbrush, and toothpaste in it. Behind that was a Colt Manhunter, with two clips lying next to it. Also provided were a carbon fiber dress belt and a Milt Sparks IWB holster. But it was the last object on the table that wrapped her heart in icy fear.

The pocket secretary was the latest model from Novatech Consumer Electronics, snapped into its charging cradle. On the small screen glowed the message “Read Me First!” But what caught Cosmo’s eye was the date/time stamp in the upper right hand corner: 01:00:00 / 01 January 2063.

0242 Saturday January 6, 2063

Looking over the area Blaze checks his pistol and looks to the watcher, "Where in the building was she?" As the watcher begins to speak Blaze also dials up Alleycat.

Please forgive me for being so abrupt and such a jerk last time.

01:00:28 Monday 01 January, 2063

Cosmo choked back the rush of bile as it churned up her throat, swallowing the vile-tasting stuff even when her every impulse screamed for her to let it out. The room spun for a moment before she could find her balance again, and while one trembling knee buckled, the other held fast and kept her from crashing to the floor.

01:00:30 / 01 January 2063

01:00:31 / 01 January 2063

01:00:32 / 01 January 2063

The lines branded themselves into her brain, shrieking all sorts of alarms though the only sound that made it past her lips was a high-pitched squeak. Cosmo's breathing quickened, her pulse raced, lending strength to her quivering frame as her quicksilver mind began to process the room, her tearfilled jade green eyes searching for any indication that she's being monitored in any way, that there is perhaps more in this room than she'd initially scanned.

A soft 'click' from somewhere near the table captures her attention, tightening every muscle in her athletic frame before she recognizes that the Colt is already in her hands and that the sound was nothing more than the faint metallic grate of the pistol's slide falling back into place. A second 'click' finds the Manhunter's heavy clip inserted into butt of the weapon with a reassuring finality. Cosmo lets out a long, slow breath, both to rein in her Chi as well as to expel the last of her uncontrolled panic. The indrawn breath is slower still as the woman finds her centre.

Wet strands of impossibly tangled hair fall over pale shoulders as she leans forward to check this new message, the comforting weight of the pistol in her right hand anchoring her in a situation that was rapidly spinning out of control.

From this moment on, time would be against her.

01:01:40 Monday 01 January 2063

Dust and grime form a heavy layer on the floor of the room, the only clean surfaces of which are the table with gear and the bed which you awoke on. No monitoring devices are present in the room: no cameras in the corners, no ultrasound motion detectors, no pressure pads on the floor, nothing. The machinery, humming idly, may be connected to an external monitor, though.

0242 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Pointing out the building it believes it found Melissa in, the watcher says, "She was on the third floor master."

1817 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

As the dwarf is typing, Andie gauges him thoughtfully, using the moments of Durin's distraction to try to examine his aura more closely, now that he could be sure the dwarf wasn't studying him back. Slipping in and out of astral, he's by now picked up enough of Durin's emotional state to realise that there's no direct intention of threat toward him involved here, and wasn't then. Yet there's equally a disturbing level of comfort relating to those weapons. And this -- he glanced down at the diagrams, suddenly realising they were almost clear enough to be distinguishable even in the astral -- from someone who obviously had much more than a basic level of education in metullurgy and design drafting ... and cyber, but no datajack.

It's a puzzle Durin is, for sure. In astral space, it's obvious the dwarf is cybered -- but not heavily, and none of it had been noticeable to Andie at all until he had slipped his vision into the astral. The single thing that most stands out is that, if anything, the dwarf actually looks "blockier", more solid even than he does to mundane vision. Andie's also pretty sure there must be some headware involved -- yet in Durin he's seen no indication of datajack or replacement eyes, the two most common pieces of cyber Andie's encountered. Odd ...

And perhaps the oddest thing of all is that the dwarf looks completely mundane.

Durin looks up again, straight at the mage in that disturbing direct stare, and Andie hastily shifts his vision back into the mundane. "So how much of that money is going into the weapon," he repeats with exaggerated patience, that slight growl back in his voice, "and how much of it is going to you?"

01:01:41 Monday 01 January 2063

Satisfied that she was clear for the moment, Cosmo brought the muzzle of her pistol down, focusing more intently on the P sec's screen as it loaded.

01:01:42 / 01 January 2063

01:01:43 / 01 January 2063

Nearly a minute now ..

She grabs for the neatly folded towel, curious as to how it's remained so pristine when the rest of the room is slippery with grime. Panic nearly overwhelms her again as some of the sickly sweet-smelling goop runs down the small of her back and it would be impossible to tell which was gripped more fiercely, the Manhunter in her right hand or the towel in her left as it was viciously scrubbed against every inch of skin within reach.

The screen went blank, finally ready to load.

It's about bloody time....

1817 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie looks at Durin and responds calmly, "Like I said earlier Durin. Those costs will be determined by what it will cost to acquire the special components for the weapon and that can not be done until the enchanting formula is created for the weapon. Trust me, Durin. At 1.5 million you are getting quite a bargain. Of course, if you feel that I am cheating you we can stop wasting each others time and end this meeting right now."

Andie turns back to the circulation batch and checks all the indicators for any changes; waiting for Durin's response.

01:01:45 Monday 01 January 2063

The screen blanks to a neutral gray before lines of text scroll across it.

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

"Huh," says Durin. After a couple of moments he returns his attention to his typing. Finally he looks up again: "Got a printer?"

The mage suppresses the urge to an exaggerated sigh. "There is a printer up front. One moment."

Andie can retrieve it from its place under the sales counter -- just -- without taking his eyes from the dwarf in the back room. It's not a big thing, little more than a cylinder of paper with an ink cartridge attached, for the rare customers who want something in writing. From somewhere beside the front door -- he must have been quietly pacing as he talked, earlier -- Jack Solomon watches the mage quizzically, the reflected light from the wrist telephone blinking in a hold pattern against his face. "Bring that back when you are done," he says softly to Andie. "I might have something for you by then."

The mage nods acknowledgement, then turns his attention back to the dwarf in the circulation room as someone taps lightly on the outside door before opening it. In the background he can just make out the fixer's hurried "I'll call you back" before the door opens and the sounds from the front shift to the light conversational exchanges of a casual, walk-in customer. The tinkling of the bells hung from the upper hinge of the door blends gently into the flute ambiance.

Durin either hasn't heard or doesn't have any appreciation for the subtle sounds of Firesong. "Try this," he says gruffly, snapping the connector into place and waiting for the scroll of paper to spool out a page of type:

0212 Saturday January 6, 2063 - Stairs of the Puyallup doss

"Lemme see 'ere..." the ganger comes forward and plucks the photograph from Alleycat, who makes no motion to stop him. After a few moments, he shakes his head and says, "Sory chummer, can't 'elp youse. Ain't none a us seen this biff 'round these parts, 'ave we boys?"

The other gangers nod affirmatively. "Neways, partys at our usual place, we be there damn late, ya knows?"

Smiling, Alleycat answers, "I hear ya chum. And...if it's not too much trouble, think ya could see fit ta gimme a ride on to my chum?"

"Where he at?"

"Hold on a sec, lemme see?"

Dialing up Blaze again, she asks when he picks up, "Hoi chummer! You there yet?"

All business, but a little softer and gentler this time, the wizworm replies, "Not yet. Can I call you when I get there?" Hearing the rush of wind on the other end of the line, Alleycat surmises that he's probably still on the move. "Give a call when you get there, kay? Thanks much."

Disconnecting, she turns to the ganger and says, "My chum's somewhere in Redmond, but he ain't sure yet. Canna girl grab a ride when she knows what's up?"

Grinning at her, the ganger replies, "Sure ya can...if yer at the party before ya knows."

Heading out with the Terms to their hangout, which was only a few blocks away, and a few beers and artfully deflected 'propositions' later, Alleycat gets a call from Blaze. "I found the building. Can you come?" He gives her the address, and she replies, "Null sheen chummer, gimme a few minutes. It's not too far away, maybe ten minutes or so."

"Got it. I'm out."

Turning winning smile to the ganger she talked to back at her doss, Alleycat asks, "Hoi chummer, my friend just called and told me where to meet him. Can a girl still get that ride?"

Smiling, the ganger replies, "Sure ya can! Lemme grab one a the noobs for youse." Slapping a freshfaced nearby ganger on the shoulder, he yells a bit loudly, like someone who's had too much to drink, "Ey there! Be givin our chum a ride, yeah?"

In a slightly whiny tone, the ganger answers, "Whys it gotta be me? Send someone else!"

Smacking the 'volunteer' on the back of the head, the older ganger answers, "Cause Ripper's sweet on 'er, that's why! Now get goin'!"

Grumbling, the ganger, motions Alleycat to follow him, and one short bike ride later, arrives at the address Blaze mentioned.

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

From his vantage point, Blaze spots Alleycat arriving on the back of someone's bike. He sees her say something, and the other person laughs in response, then claps her on the shoulder and roars off. Dialing her up, he gives her his location. Casually, she walks down the street, turns a corner, and disappears from view.

About five minutes later, she taps him on the shoulder, and says softly, "I'm here. What's up?"

14:10:24 02 Tuesday January 2063 - Tokyo, Japan

The five figures flowed through the shadows like sharks through deep water, weapons shouldered. The heavy cleats of their boots were quiet on the steel grating of the catwalks, even at the rapid pace they moved. Each wore the armor and stylized helmet of a Red Samurai, but unlike the dress armor these weren't painted red with silver piping. Instead, they were done in digital subdued urban camo tones, patterned to break up their silhouette in front of all optical sensors. Their weapon and equipment loads were all identical to prevent identification based on tactical roles on the team. The assault rifles they carried were Ren Raku standard, firing caseless 7x43mm 120 grain FMJ TEC rounds with an underbarrel 30mm grenade launcher. Each was equipped with an EOTech holographic weapon sight, along with a laser designator. The teams lasers were all keyed to the same digital code, allowing them to spot for heavy ordinance delivery alongside other Red Samurai assets.

The team cornered the hallway silently, moving with swift predatory precision. Each member covered his assigned sector, switching smoothly as new threat vectors opened up. Constant communication flowed among them, heads up displays on their helmets presenting tactical data in sidebars or visual overlays. Radio traffic from external obeservers and drone surveillance snapped over the commlink, providing a macroscopic picture for the team.

As they came to the doorway at the end of the catwalk, they fanned out, two to one side, three to the other. The point man tried the maglock with no success, stepping back and joining the defensive formation while the intrusion specialist bypassed the jammed device. Before the final command was sent, the two operators closest the door palmed flash-packs from their tac gear, thumb pressure on the arming switchs setting each to constant strobe.

The doors hissed open and the flash-packs soard into the room, clattering along the floor. The high intensity halogen strobes shuttered at an offset 120 Hz, dazzling the room. The team moved in from both sides of the doorway, weapons up and ready. No one crossed a muzzle line. Gunfire stabbed across the room as targets sprang from concealment. The team's response was immediate, short controlled bursts scything down their opponents. The Terminal Expansion Control rounds were designed to defeat both light cloth armor and ceramic splinter plates, as well as light vehicle armor. It was over in seconds, ten targets lying dead on the dirty concrete.

The overhead floods came on, bathing the room in harsh, shadowless light. The Samurai rose from their defensive crouches, finishing the motions of reloading and safing their weapons. Two men entered the room from the second doorway, one dressed in a conservative gray business suit the other in dress armor. They ignored the steaming bodies strewn at grotesque angles amidst the wreckage of combat, gazing instead at the five warriors. The man in the business suit coughed once, to clear his throat from the haze of cordite fumes and effluvium that hung in the air, before speaking.

"Congratulations, Class 3352. Your final graduation exercise is complete. You are now Fourth Squad, Fourth Company, Second Battalion, Atlanta Brigade. Well done."

As one, the five Samurai came to attention and saluted.

18:44:30 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Seattle, UCAS

Zeyda sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a tired gesture. Information continued to scroll past on the flat panel display set on his desk. Standing, he shifted the ride of the pistol on his right hip in an unconscious gesture, his eyes glancing out the window to the rain outside. A pile of empty Thai take-out containers cluttered the desk, along with a handful of hard copy printouts and indexed OMCs. Stretching again, he cued the wireless headset he wore.

"Rack."

"Go ahead."

"Tell the boys to get ready, we're heading out to the club in fifteen minutes. We've got a couple of hours of business tonight, meets with half a dozen people." Zeyda double checked the schedule on his pocket secretary.

"Got it. We'll be ready."

The fixer switched channels manually, opening up a phonecall. He didn't expect an answer, waiting the obligatory four rings before the message service picked up.

"Tenmou, it's Zeyda. I've got business for you if you're interested, a quick job. Meet me tonight at 2000 at Miner's Landing."

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

"My friend said that somewhere in there is Melissa, but also, one mean looking fire elemental. She should be on the third floor, if she's still here, and no one's left since I arived. It looks like a nice place to hide out, and plenty of places to set up traps, which is good for her, if she's in there, but bad for us since she won't recognize us off the bat, if at all."

Blaze continues to study the building in front of them.

" I was hoping you could provide a little backup and help me check for her and deal with the elemental if needed."

0253 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat nods understanding. "When we encounter the fire elemental, am I running decoy or point?"

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

"Backup, I should be able to handle most normal Fire Elementals, although it may sting after a while. If you want to you could run a distraction, but I don't know enough to tell you where to go to distract him. Mostly, you're another set of eyes."

Blaze seems to zone out for a minute and when he speaks again his voice is cold, almost emotionless.

"You ready to go?"

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat regards him for a long moment, her eyes hidden behind that visor of hers. At some point the earlier dreadlocks seem to have become undone: her hair is now tied back from her face into a pair of large, crinkly braids, lightly knotted at the nape of her long neck. Against his height and force of personality, it has the effect of making her seem much smaller than she had at the earlier meet. Almost every bit of real colour she'd been wearing earlier is gone.

Almost, she reaches forward to touch his hand; at the last moment seems to think better of it. "I'm ready," she says at last, almost gently. "Lead the way."

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Blaze steps forward and as he enters into the building he draws his pistol, it never hurts to try an look less like a mage. Inside his self built void of emotions he begins checking the first floor astrally as well as physically. As he moves through the building he makes his way towards the stairs as best he can.

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Tight quarters here. Her hand's around the taser in her coat pocket, freeing it from the cloth and readied, but still concealed for now.

Just before she enters the building -- the shaman already a little ahead of her -- Alleycat says softly to the watcher still tailing her: "He tells me that his Melissa might be here, but there might be people between us and her, and some of them might be very dangerous. Can you go ahead of him a little, quietly tell me each time what you see around each corner before he gets to it?"

01:02:20 Monday 01 January 2063

Cosmo refused to stop scrubbing until every bit of her skin glowed bright pink, the last traces of whatever were left to gum up the less than pristine towel. Careful to avoid touching the table with anything but the backs of her hands, she dons each article of clothing with rapid precision, pulling on socks, underwear, form-fitting armor, and pants in record time. The bra and blouse, already fastened, take even less.

Slow, deep breaths punctuated every series of movements until something as simple as dressing in a hurry became more and more like a kata, each movement flowing into the next. Cos knew that there was no point in taking her time with this, too much time had already been wasted. A quick glance at the P Sec confirmed her suspicions:

01:02:38 / Monday 01 January 2063

Damn.

Moving more rapidly, she fastens the belt, adjusting her IWB holster to fit in the considerable curve of her hip, just slightly to the rear on her right side. Laces tied. She loses herself in the routine of dressing, finally rubbing her sodden hair in the towel to get as much of the gunk as possible before pulling the overlong, tangled mess into a tight knot at the nape of her neck.

01:02:50 / Monday 01 January 2063

With a low growl, Cosmo drops the spare clip into her pocket, resolves to brush her teeth as soon as possible, and thrusts the dirty towel and pocket secretary into the nylon duffel with just enough time to free her hand before the zipper slides home. A few long strides leave her at the door, considering the plain white panel and how to get out of this "storage chamber." Her new name was merely another thing to dissect. Later.

01:03:01 Monday 01 January 2063

The doorway is closed by a plain panel, colored the same dingy white as the rest of the room. It appears to be plastic sheeting over a heavier core, with no latch or locking mechanism. As Cosmo stands there, the door slides open with a hiss, revealing a narrow hallway that opens into a small alcove after only five meters. The alcove itself is open to the night, a faint sliver of orange-lit skyline visible to the right. Sitting on a makeshift chair in the alcove is a young man, perhaps mid-twenties, wearing a stylish, if unadorned, pair of gray slacks, a dark crimson hi-collar shirt, and a gray long coat. His boots, though, are the same style as what Cosmo wears herself.

He looks up as the door opens, a smile appearing on his face. Closing the folding knife he'd been using to clean his nails with, he stands.

"Ah, awake I see. I thought I'd heard something from inside. Not looking too worse for wear. Here."

He offers the knife, a slim Benchmade model with a scaled micarta handle. It fits Cosmo's hand like it was made for it.

"Oh, and these as well. You've got the red BMW out there." He holds out a set of keys, a lasercut car key and thin maglock passkey. He smiles. "Good luck."

01:03:48 Monday 01 January 2063

The tip of her knife flickers upwards, deftly slipping between the young man’s sixth and seventh ribs, sliding the top quarter of the slender blade into his lung as easily as a warm knife through Jell-O.

Too worse for wear?

She watched the life drain from his eyes with no expression of her own; she was an instrument .. nothing more. As he slumped back into his makeshift chair with a sigh, the forbidding woman in grey carefully pulled the blade free, directing the flow of his life’s blood downwards, watching the crimson hi-collar shirt turn nearly black with a morbid sort of detachment….

…

Cosmo’s fingers twitch around the knife’s handle as she admires its keen edge, her vivid green eyes widening ever so slightly as she can fairly smell his blood once the waking dream subsides. The tip of her knife flickers downwards, nestling firmly within its guard as she flips the blade shut. A sultry smile tips one side of her mouth as she leans forward to slide the knife into the top of her boot, her gaze trailing across his shirt, belt, pants, and finally to his own boots while she secures her second weapon.

She straightens slowly, taking even more time as her gaze lifts almost casually to meet his own. Her widening smile leaves no doubt as to her conclusion.

“Red BMW, hmm?”

A subtle shift in pitch warms her voice, its silky tone turns caressing as she steps forward.

“Hardly seems standard issue ….”

Slim, tapered fingers brush against his as she reaches for the dangling key chain. One blonde eyebrow lifts artfully as she takes in every ridge and plane of his face .. commits it all to memory .. Cosmo shudders as if struck by the sudden intensity of what she finds there. The tip of her nails slide lightly down the lapel of his long coat.

“But what does a girl have to do to get a coat like that?”

01:04:01 Monday 01 January 2063

Closer, the details of his face concealed by the shadows reveal themselves. His eyes are cold and hard, a synthetic icy blue. The replacements are very high quality, as is the implant surgery: no fine cut lines around the sockets, no abnormal smoothness of the skin, no scarring. The planes of his face are cold and unforgiving, and despite his relaxed nature and the smile he wears, a tension fills his body, like the pressure on a trigger spring just before it trips the sear.

He carries a weapon, most likely a heavy pistol, in a holster just behind his right hip.

His hand, when you touch it, is hard with callous and scar tissue. He chuckles, a low, vicious sound.

"Don't ask me about issue, I wasn't the one who set this up. I'm just the watchdog. But if you're wanting to get into my clothes, I'm sure we could come to some arrangement."

0254 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

The watcher nods and fades out of view. Moving through the first floor, Blaze's senses are tightly on edge, anticipating any sign of trouble. However, looking around, neither he nor Alleycat can see any thing out of the ordinary for an abandoned building. A few moments later, the watcher pops back into existence. "Master, the elemental is gone, and the girl, if she was here, is not anymore. I believe we have lost them."

"Are you sure?" Despite the watcher's words, Alleycat continues scanning the first floor. A few seconds later, Blaze lashes out and punches the wall with his free hand. Alleycat remains silent, and a few moments later, the shaman speaks. "I don't see or sense the elemental either. I don't think the watcher is wrong about this one."

Softly, Alleycat asks, "Is there any clue as to where she might have gone or been taken?"

"Yes masters. I think I found the room where she was located." The watcher pauses, and rubs its front paws together nervously. "At least, I found the room where the elemental was guarding..."

18:57:42 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Seattle UCAS

Tenmou knelt before a makeshift shrine in his bedroom with his eyes closed in meditation. His Daisho sat on the shrine, set in their scabbards as incense burned. The scents were relaxing and set his mind at ease, save for the stick the burned at the center of the shrine. The incense at the center had been his father's favourite scent and it served as a reminder as to why he was here, in Seattle.

He slowly came up, out of his meditation and as he did he became aware of a nagging beeping from the living room. Stretching as he stood, Tenmou walked out of his bedroom into the living room and saw a light blinking on his telecomm.

Pushing the message replay button, the message was short and succinct: "Tenmou, it's Zeyda. I've got business for you if you're interested, a quick job. Meet me tonight at 2000 at Miner's Landing."

Looking at his watch, Tenmou muttered, "I have roughly an hour...I'd best get dressed for work."

He began removing the old kimono he had, opting for a clean shirt and jeans for work. Sliding into his form fitting body armor, before his primary clothes, he decided his weapons were not subtle enough to carry into a public place. He would meet Zeyda as he was. It would allow him to grab some food before heading out to Miner's Landing.

Checking his cupboards and finding little in terms of food, he decided on some quick ramen and tossed it in the microwave. He turned on the trid to catch the weather as he waited for his food to cook. When the microwave signalled that it was finished, he barely waited for his food to cool before shovelling it into his mouth with chopsticks. The night was cold and damp, as per usual, so Tenmou dug out a heavy jacket before grabbing the phone and calling a cab service to pick him up.

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

Andie looks through the contract; shaking his head. "Since you are dead set to have this written down which I feel is a bad idea by the way then you will need to add a line stating 750,000 in advance to cover initial material expenses and my fee is 10% for this project; not 5%. Are you planning on going on jaunts for components when the time comes Durin??"

19:37:04 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Although not a great distance away, the cab ride still takes the better part of half an hour from Tenmou's flat to the restaurant. The downtown streets are still thronged with holiday crowds: shoppers returning unwanted gifts or trying to pick up what they didn't get during the post-holiday sales, New Year's revelers making a second night of it, and those home for the holidays touring the city one last time before leaving for another twelve months.

Miner's Landing is located south of downtown proper, amidst the shops and hotels which form the Waterfront. A successful restaurant with a menu focussing on meat and potatos type fare, the Landing also features an upstairs Jazz and Cigar bar. Zeyda, a longtime jazz fan, preferred to do business there not only for the atmosphere but also because the Waterfront was busy until late at night, providing plenty of cover for his clients to come and go unseen.

Tenmou slid through the doors of the restaurant, shaking off the light rain that fell outside. In answer to the waitress at the maitre d' stand, he nodded towards the stairs leading up to the bar. Taking them two at a time, he followed the rich smell of tobacco and the throaty wail of a saxophone into the dimly lit second floor.

His eyes adjusted automatically to the smoky interior, and he caught sight of his contact at a back booth close to the stage. Zeyda was in deep conversation with a well dressed Ork female. The fixer's eyes glanced across him, though, and he nodded. Tenmou hid a surge of disgust, turning to find a seat at the bar.

01:04:56 Monday 01 January 2063

"Well, Watchdog."

Cosmo smiles in spite of the well-dressed brute's callous reply, her fingers lingering for a few moments longer before she pulls the keychain away.

"It seems as though you've performed," an eyebrow arches as she wonders if he'd visited her while she was unconscious, "admirably. Perhaps if there was more time .. or .. "

Shrugging lightly, she gives his lapel a quick tug as if to adjust the material, testing his balance and training (among other things) under the cover of bringing his ear somewhat closer.

" .. if you could tell me who put you here .. "

Her voice drops to the barest whisper.

" .. how long you've been here, all alone .. "

Where I can find a decent hairbrush….

“ .. or anything from my dossier I might find .. intruiging .. and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

01:05:02 Monday 01 January 2063

Pulling at his lapel reminds you of pulling at the pin of a grenade: the resistance you feel is inertia and the slight shift of his body, lowering his center of gravity. Once you overcome that inertia, though, the results will be just as deadly. You know he won't apply force directly against you, though, should you decide to apply more strength. He will simply slide forward, jamming his off hand up into your floating ribs while bringing his right over to attempt the jointlock. It's exactly what you would do were the roles reversed.

"Sorry, Sleeping Beauty, I've been given no information for you. The terms and conditions of my employment are protected by client/operator priviledge. You'll have to ask them in person, if you ever happen to cross paths."

He pauses, as if to savor the taste of your offer, and a wry, dangerous smile twists his lips.

"In this business, it's invariably fatal to trust anything anyone says, and that goes double for beautiful women. But, I would be lying if I said your offer didn't tempt me."

A slim white business card appears in his left hand.

01:05:48 Monday 01 January 2063

The corners of Cosmo’s lips twitch up in a more genuine smile as she considers the prospect of a bit of sparring. Nothing heavy of course, just a bit of exercise after such a long .. sleep? Her expressive eyes mirror this sudden shift in interest for a few moments before lowering to glance at the white card in his hand.

Arching an eyebrow, she takes the card, scanning what’s written there with no small amount of curiosity.

19:39:01 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou found a stool at the bar where he could keep an eye on his fixer, for when he became free and ready to talk to him.

"What kin I gitcha, chummer?" the barkeep asked.

Tenmou barely spared the bartender a glance. "Sake, please."

"Comin' up..."

Tenmou stared at the ork Zeyda was speaking with. He had been in the shadows for a couple years now, doing little jobs for the fixer here and there, but in that time, he still hadn't quite acclimated to working with the kawaruhito. They made him uncomfortable. He realized some of the most...durable...shadowrunners were often orks or trolls, but he had grown up taught to hate them. It was a hard lesson to ignore.

"There ya go, mac," the bartender stated, placing the sake in front of Tenmou.

"Arigatau," Tenmou replied, as he slotted his credstick into the available port and paid for his drink, with a sizeable tip.

"Yer welcome. And if ya need anythin' else, jest holler."

Tenmou risked a glance at the barkeep as he turned away, impressed that the man had recognized Japanese. He took a light sip of his drink and found that the sake was of a decent quality. He nursed his drink as he watched for his fixer to finish up.

04:10:11 EST Monday 01 January 2063 - Crofton, Maryland, UCAS

She caught the phone on its second ring, muzzy from sleep and Merlot.

"Devlin."

"Request secure line, ma'am."

Fully awake now, Naomi pressed her thumb against the phone's reader, waiting while the unit verified the second half of the encryption algorithm coded into the subdermal chip injected into the digit. The authentication LED glowed green.

"Secure. Go."

"Priority alert via SigInt. One of the sleepers has been activated. Empress 06."

"What? Who ordered the activation?" She rolled out of bed even as she asked the question, groping on the floor for her clothes.

"Unable to determine at this time."

"What happened? Nevermind, I'll be at the office in fifteen minutes. Get the team in."

She killed the connection, cutting off the acknowledgment of her order mid-syllable. Someone, somewhere had discovered the location of one of the operatives she'd put on ice two years ago. Worse, whoever it was had chosen to awaken the individual. Devlin pulled on a turtleneck over her armor. Empress 06, the last of the Spartan project's operatives. Why her? Why now?

01:05:01 Monday 01 January 2063

Printed in a plain block font on the business card is an LTG number, the prefix indicates its a Cal Free State number.

0954 Saturday January 6, 2063 - Key to the Future

Sent. Finally

Avalanche looked blearily at the sunlight streaming through his window. So much for sleeping. I gotta shower and change clothes, meets gonna be soon...

01:05:03 Monday 01 January 2063

Slipping the card into her left back pocket with a soft, sultry chuckle, Cosmo smiles dazzlingly and gives him a bit of a wink.

“Mmmm, you can trust me on this one, Watchdog. If you can tell me something .. worthwhile .. I can assure you….”

She glances meaningfully into his lifeless icy eyes.

“You will not be disappointed.”

With nothing more than a coy nibble at her lower lip, Cosmo turns on her heel, striding towards the red BMW, keycard in hand, walking as slowly as her agenda would allow.

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

The dwarf looks surprised. "Why is it a bad idea? Are you ashamed of your work?" And then, as something else visibly connects, he sputters: "Fifty percent in advance, with absolutely nothing to show for it, and you won't even start to work out the formula for another month??! Are you completely loco?!"

He sounds a bit upset.

0255 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat lets out an audible sigh. "Let's start with that room, then."

But the poised stillness in her utterly belies the seeming exhaustion of her words. No Barrens building with roof and walls as intact as these would be completely uninhabited without very good reason ... and something suggesting an elemental had been spotted not so very long ago. Maybe someone -- maybe even she herself -- had tried to hide? The woman had worked as a corporate mage. The elemental might even be hers ...

Surprise, such as it was, had been lost from the moment Blaze punched the wall, and probably some time before. Alleycat straightens suddenly from a close examination of the doorway. "Melissa," she says evenly, her awareness keenly tuned to any changes in her environment, "your cousin is here, and very worried about you. Are you all right?"

19:55:07 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

As the portly Japanese man on stage wrings one last soulful note from his saxophone, Tenmou sees the female ork give one last nod of her head and slide out from Zeyda's booth. The slim fixer ran a hand through his hair in a tired gesture, staring intently at the small screen of his pocket secretary. After several minutes of data entry, he leans back with a satisfied smile and drinks deeply from the tumbler of amber liquid next to him. With a nod, he beckons Tenmou over from the bar.

"Evening, omae, thanks for coming on short notice. When this job came down the pipe I originally had it slotted for someone else, but they fell through. It's yours if you want it, but I'd be careful with it. The Johnson say's it's straight wetwork but there's never anything straight about them. It's a virtual meet, tonight at midnight. This is the LTG number. If you don't want to hook up from home, I know a place that's out of the way. If you're interested, though, the Johnson was offering 6K for the hit."

01:06:21 Monday 01 January 2063

The BMW Coupe shows the new, aggressive lines of the 2064 models, the dark metallic paint glowing wetly beneath the streetlight. The interior is a masterwork of black and gray ergonomic engineering. Dashboard instrumentation glows to life as the vehicle's engine starts with a throaty growl. Tucked into the sleeve on the back of the driver's side sunshade is a business card for Il Grano Italian Ristorante, 11359 Santa Monica Blvd., West Los Angeles, CFS. The name printed on the back reads Drago.

0256 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Blaze's gaze is ice. "Show me where." As Blaze advances upon the room that had held the elemental his senses remain on edge, and he continues to look around for signs of danger.

Leading the way up the stairs Blaze looks back to Alleycat. For one moment his icy gaze pierces her being, sending chills up her spine, before his gaze softens once again. "Hopefully we can at least find a clue where she went to."

Stepping into the room Blaze begins to look for any sign of what the elemental was guarding.

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop


Andie looks at Durin as if he was learning impaired and responds in a very serious tone. "For someone who doesn't want to get a permit for such a weapon this job will not exactly be legal, Durin, and you want it written down for someone to trace. I'm not going to jail for you or anyone else for that matter. Do we understand each other??"

Andie pauses. "As for the advance, well. Unless you intend to my personal treasurer once the enchanting formula is complete no runner or talismonger will accept credit for the components that will be required for this project and I will not get stiffed with the bill. If you don't like the terms of the deal then leave. I have work to do."

Andie gauges Durin's reaction at this point to see what he will do next; gathering magic energy around himself... This negotiation is over.

0256 Saturday January 6, 2063-Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Alleycat's words hang in the air momentarily, before settling into stillness. Whatever hunch led her to believe that Melissa was here, it played her false...at least this time.

Stepping into the room the watcher pointed out, however, it is quickly obvious to both runners that it was not through Melissa's free will that she was no longer present. Scorch marks were present in various places on the walls, and the sharp smell of blood and battle seared Blaze's nostrils. His cousin had been here all right, and whoever had taken her, she hadn't wanted to go with willingly, for certain.

A red haze seemed to cloud Blaze's vision, and the only thought that was on his mind was death, the death of those who had dared to harm his cousin. Before he could give in to the rage, the need to destroy something, anything, in frustration, Alleycat's soft voice sounded through the air. "I found something."

Holding it up for Blaze to see, the shaman quickly focused in on the object in her hand. It was small, and partially burned, most likely from the flames of the fire elemental. It was small packet of matches and its simple covering was marked with only two words.

Forcing himself not to lash out at Alleycat, not to vent his frustrations unfairly on his teammate who had come to help him, he focused his anger on those who deserved it instead, and asked tightly, "What does it say?"

Running her fingers lightly along the cover, Alleycat looked up at him. The difference in their stature was accented by Blaze's towering rage. Softly she answered, "Paradigm Shift ..."

01:06:48 Monday 01 January 2063

Sighing a little as she sinks into the stylish interior of the coupe, Cosmo glares at the back of the business card and the name printed there, just barely able to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

This is getting bloody irritating. If someone doesn't hurry up and tell me what the HELL is going on, I'll ....

Her growl is nearly as low as the gentle purr of her car as she dials the onboard computer, her deft fingers flying across menu after menu until she's called up several maps of Los Angeles and the surrounding area. If the skyline off in the distance was LA, she could be a few hours away from learning what had happened to her year; if it wasn't .. then at least she'd have a chance to see what this baby can do.

The seatbelt slides home with a 'click' only seconds before she feeds the car a little gas, her glare turning to a look of pure, unemotional focus, and then as the radio kicks in, the beginnings of a smile lighting everything but the determined set of her shoulders.

Bloody bastards.

01:07:10 Monday 01 January 2063

Caska watched the taillights of the red BMW disappear into the night.

"Hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go," he murmured to himself, his smile widening in response to the memory of the languid slide of Cosmo's hips. Pulling out his pocket secretary, he routed a call to the contact number provided at the onset of this job. After several seconds, the stand-by call icon was replaced by a green connected icon.

"It's me. Yes, she's left. You know, if I'd have known she was going to be so hot I would have brought some flowers or something. Whatever. Go ahead. That's it? Easiest nuyen I've ever made. If you've got another task that pays as well, you know how to get in touch with me."

Disconnecting from the call, Caska verified that his fee had been transferred to the disposable account he'd set up for this little job. Smiling, he tucked the p-sec back into his pocket and strode around back to where his car was parked. Reaching into the trunk, he withdrew a small dufflebag. Unzipping the top, he carefully withdrew a fifteen centimeter nylon lanyard from within before closing the bag up again. The pull tab dangled from the duffle like a tail. Moving around to the front of the building again, he glanced around carefully. Then, with a sharp yank he pulled the lanyard free before tossing the duffle into the room. It fell to the floor with a dull thud and slid towards the rear wall. Hustling back to his car, he slid into the driver's side and accelerated into the night.

Seconds later, the satchel charge converted the bed, table, room, and most of the building itself into smoke and rubble.

1818 Monday January 8, 2063 - Land's End Magic Shop

" 'You get what you pay for,' " stubbornly insists the dwarf. "That's what you said earlier. We're not talking about credit. You want me to forward you a 50% advance, here and now, when you aren't even going to be starting the thing for a month? That's sure as frag not what I'm paying for.

"If you're that dead set against a paper contract, fine, I don't care: we can do this on a handshake and a maker's mark. But I want the basic terms spelled out now.

"Tell you what: since you're that hyped about getting stiffed with the bill, why don't I pay you half your full fee -- 4% of 1.5 megs, that's 60 K -- here and now. That'll more than cover your expenses while you're working out the formula. That part of it's not that expensive to make -- I asked around.

"The rest -- well, we'll talk about that once you've created the fomula."

Durin fumbles in his pockets for a moment, comes up with a certified credstick and a couple of wadded bills. "There's 50 K right there, and I've another 10 K here somewhere. Take it or leave it."

0300 Saturday January 6, 2063 - Somewhere in the Redmond Barrens

Does everyone's life go in cycles, or is it just me? Or am I assigning far too much significance to this? I doubt that it's coincidence.

"All right," says Alleycat as she quickly steps to block the entrance ... against her better judgement, but she needs to forestall the imminent explosion before the shaman charged into something neither of them were prepared to deal with yet. Under her breath she hurriedly tells the watcher to watch the hallway behind her, warn her if anything bigger than a devil rat moved. For a moment it looks as though Blaze will just sweep her aside, but at the last second he checks and growls, "Get out of my way."

She doesn't move. "We have a place, but we don't know yet whether the place itself was actually involved. Might have been a different meet there -- but the person we're looking for might also just have been out on the town, for all we know."

It's not the easiest thing in the world to keep up her guard against -- whatever threat might remain -- while trying simultaneously to keep someone a lot more powerful than you from doing something impulsive and marginally suicidal by sheer force of personality. A focus -- a task, that might help, something we'll need: "There was significant magic here. Have you been able to pull any signatures -- something you can recognise when you see them?"

19:57:32 Tuesday 02 January 2063 - Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tenmou studied his fixer for a moment before replying.

"I don't typically consider wetwork...it's a messy job with too many repercussions. Any idea who the target is supposed to be? If I call this J, can I back out if I don't like what he tells me?"

01:41:02 Monday 01 January 2063 - Los Angeles, CFS
The vast river of concrete called Interstate 10 cuts through the middle of Los Angeles, carving through the industrial outlands east of the valley before diving down through the scenic hills of Riverside. From there, it wound through the heart of the city, flanked on either side by towering sentinels of glass and ferroconcrete. The 10 was always busy, always thronged with traffic. Tonight was no different.

Cosmo wove through traffic, threading the BMW through a gap between a pair of Nightskies just large enough for the car. The vehicle's on-board AI was built for racing, all of the standard safety lockouts found on civilian vehicles were disabled. It responded instantly to her power demands, shifting gears in flawless synchrony. Cutting over two lanes, she took the offramp to the 405 North. The BMW snarled out of the tight turn still at 130 kph. She hung in the right lane, though, coming off the throttle to pace the slower traffic. Santa Monica Boulevard was the next exit.