Herne homes in on Edana and streaks through the shifting bright and dark to her. He slows as he nears the ritual site sensing the gathering power, it sends a strange cold prickling through his astral form. He dives down, shedding the Hunter's guise for the Hound, pausing briefly to startle Sally in her idle tottering with a pounce and a playful nip. He surges away from the outraged spirit howling his laughter and charges up the side of the ramshackle building.

The Rider commands great power. He seeks one of the other Hunters. I do not know which one, but if this man comes you must promise to stand aside.

Really? I'm not qu-- "HOLY---" Edana scrabbles frantically for a sword that she isn't wearing,

Herne leaps out of thin air, materializing at chest height in a dive that lands him right in the middle of the crew on the roof.

"HERNE. Was that entirely neccessary?" Edana growls eyes leaping with electricity and skin darkening over her entire body as adrenaline and panic surge. He pads over to her and looks up, eyes gleaming, tongue lolling.

I think so.

The shaman shakes her head, horns rattling with beads and pendants and other somewhat dire looking things. She turns to JT, "Herne is here. I am ready." She sits down easily grimacing at the wet ground. Her voice takes on a fierce tone, harsh and haunting, horn-like, "Let the Hunt begin."

She sits in the circle she has prepared across from JT with a bowl in her lap. Herne stands between them. Edana twines the longer strands of Ballefour's hair around her fingertips and dips her hand into the bowl. She reaches out to draw a symbol on the massive spirit-Hound's shoulder whispering in a familiar and guttural language. An apple. A crude face surrounded by a circle. A fleur-de-lis. A great spoked wheel. And one long line hatched with shorter lines perpendicular to its length. With outstretched fingers she draws rough lines from Herne's right eye to the bottom of his jaw.

She untwines the hair into the bowl and hands it across Herne's back to JT indicating with a glance that it his turn to mark the Hound with symbols of their quarry's potential whereabouts. Releasing her mind to the rhythm of her body - the ebb and flow of blood and breath - she chants to The Great Huntsman, calling for his favor in their search.

We seek this man. We will find him. We will run him down until he gasps for life. Until he yields. Until he is ground to dust under our heels.

Power builds between the two shamans until both masks pour out of their bodies glowing with an inner light that is clearly visible from the street. Around the circle, the power feels like a building pressure--Gonzales and Helios have the sense that their ears are about to pop but they never do. After nearly an hour the Huntsman appears in the center of the circle, his massive bow drawn back to his cheek. Firing an arrow to the west, it trails a pale green cord.

Seek this bringer of death, hunt this man falling towards apotheosis, revel in the sense of blood and meat this bounty offers.

With that, Herne springs forth chasing after the arrow, coursing across mountain and river not daring to rest and lose his prey. Coming upon a great iron dragon, the hunter-hound makes his way through the speeding train. Fading through the door of the private car, so unlike his actions at home, Edana's Ally finds the prize.

The dual-natured doctor is packing a bag hurriedly, the sense of impending doom filling his bones. He shoves past Herne and races out into the night. A faint trail follows after him for Herne to keep pace with...

Mistress, we are in a massive station of steel and glass with a strong sense of history. The voices say we are in Grand Central Station, New York.

With little rest from the early wake up call and last nights late adventures, a ritual tracking should be quite draining. The aging Dog shaman however, finds it refreshing. Absorbing himself in the mana swirling around the lodge, JT is able to relax his body and focus all his mind and energy into the rite.

He is impressed by the young Huntsmen's devotion to her magic, and the ease she is able to control it. Something most shaman dont handle until they are well into their lives.

After the ceremony is complete, JT stands, rejuvenated. He scans the team, to see if any new faces have arrived.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

Herne tumbles back into the circle, all red mouth and ears. He and Edana share a moment of triumph and the spirit's eyes blaze. All the symbols have been rubbed into indistinguishable smears except one, the apple high on the spirit's shoulder is perfect. Herne trots over to JT and butts his massive mastiff's head into the dog shaman's leg.

Edana stands and stretches, skin swirling with the passion of the chase. Bolts arc across her eyes. Painted and draped with the paraphenalia of the ritual it looks as if some wild spirit might have manifested in your midst. She scratches behind a horn, scrunching her face an the likeness passes.

"Ballefour is in New York. He got off of his train moments ago." She stoops to begin putting the roof back in order. She cocks her head and glances at Helios with a grin.

"Why don't we all head downstairs and have something hot to drink while we figure out what steps we can take next?"

Helios raises an eyebrow at the look Edana gave him.

"What was that look all about?" he asks as he follows her downstairs.

New York. Great. Just great. Corporate Central. No way in hell I'm gonna be able to smuggle weapons in there, unless we use that "Property of the Military Box" idea.

Gonzales follows, wondering about many things. If Ballefour is in the rotten apple, then why the subway incident... also border crossings are alwasy a hassle, I could get the manhinter across, but the squirt should probably go in the box. Also got to get to Chrissie's and get the paperwork and samples to let leak to the press and maybe the government too.

Tiny sips on the hot coffee, cupping his big hand around the Mug trying to warm his hands. Listen to what he can pick up form peoples discussions, and chatting to some of the local business men and women.

After spending 3 hours during a Lunch trying to gather as much infomations as possible. He leaves the shop and head for a last walk around the building, looking for the que for the dipensery if they have for the Antidote. After finding a location Tiny ques for a sample of the serum.

<deleted post>

::Seattle, December 16, 2063 1700::

The massive troll named Tiny clearly stands out as he looms a meter over everyone else in the line. It had been a productive day, over lunch he had spoken to the guards who were working OT to protect the outside of the Ballefour Pharmaceuticals building. They were there to do crowd control and make sure that the riots didn't spread into the complex. Walking around the building, he couldn't see any signs of the previous runners activities or infiltration, only the ever-present guards with assault rifles scanning the surrounding area. With only about fifty people left in front of him the queue actually felt like it was moving. Credsticks were being slotted and debited for further research funding and people were receiving injections into the upper arms, some rubbing at the injection site, others pulling their coats back on and walking past the long lines obvious for their lack of masks. Tiny had already had a small sample of his blood fed through a small device to make sure he was not carrying the VITAS plague in his body. As the sun begins to set, large halogen flood lights are activated filling the area with artificial daylight.

Debian dropped off the computer with the highlights of his findings at Charlie's. Skimming through it on his way to Edana's it became clear that the doctor was ill. The early stages of research for the vaccine had been in traditional retroviral areas. Take the RNA strands of antibodies that the body creates as it fights off VITAS then splice them into Meta-Human DNA to create a natural antibody that lays dormant in the system until it comes under attack.

Ballefour references a pygmy tribe in the Pacific in his research, that is when his research methods changed. He looked into the Krieger strain of HMHVV and captured several feral specimens to begin experimenting with. One of them bit him and Ballefour contracted the disease. That is when his mind fully understood the vaccine. By using his own blood as a source of the virus, he began to tamper with it and test on patients who were coming in for his services as a street doc. Personal journal notes indicate a change in his own tastes and a need for metahuman feeding. He found a way to enable himself to eat without people noticing through his own sexual choices. The journal doesn't go into explicit detail.

By the time Charlie arrives at the Daughter of the Storm's house, most of the team has assembled and they are getting ready to go over their findings.

As the darkness creeps in and the chill of the snow settle above the ground and the air gets heavy. The Chill factor starts to slow the body. Everyone is seeking the warmth of buildings and coffee shops.

Tiny looks to where the antidote is kept. Examining the trays where they are kept, and having one last look around for escape routes and guards. Tiny grabs a good 2 hand fulls of antidote and shoves it in to his pockets.

Tiny:

"Stop right there!"

A booming voice cybernetically augmented comes from the roof of the building. Glancing around you see several guards running in your direction and the guards on the roof take to a knee for better stability in aiming.

Bishop pulls up outside of the Ballefour Pharmaceuticals lab to pick up Tiny. As he pulls up, he brings the BattleTac array online and contacts Tiny through it.

"Your ride is here chummer, I'm at the north-east side of the crowd."

As Edana gets out mugs and glasses she looks a little flustered. I don't even have enough cups for all these folks... let alone places to sit. Shoulda gotten somebody else to host our little jumping off place. Her brain plays seating-Tetris while she fixes hot drinks for anyone who's interested.

"Well, what's our next step? Besides Charlie helping me move the bed so we can accomodate more ABUs?" She gestures Charlie over to the foot of the bed and she moves a low shelf to make space.

Grave:

"Colonel..."

"Yeah, kid, talk fast. Time's tight hereabouts."

"Traced my target to New York, need to ship my firepower over there..."

"What do you need shipped, kid? Frag... Tell you what, I give you a flat shipping fee, UCAS Air Force style but this is coming out of my Black Ops budget so standard fee. 150 for every 20 kilos. I'll leave a Ops Box over at your place, put your stuff in, seal it and I'll send the boys over to collect it."

"Thank you, sir."

"Watch your six, kid. The feds are all over this like white on rice. Be careful they don't pull a juri-your-hoop-diction on you. Hodge, out."

Charlie does as asked, no questions. More room means more sleepspace for everybody, which is always good.

"Say, what've ya got ta drink 'round 'ere anyway?"

Tiny Grabs as many bottle as he can without braking any, shoves them in the pocket of the Large Coat he is wearing. Turning and making the dash for the door. Some people move out the way of the running Troll, but some get forced out of the way with minimal effort from Tiny's large arms.

The electric door which are stuck open from the ques, pose no problem for a quick exit.

Bishops voice comes a sigh of relief over his personal comms unit.

"Stop right there!"
A booming voice Resounded in his ears. The natural adrenaline coursing through his vain, enhancing his sensors.
Bishop could not have arrived at a better time than this.

Heading for the large populated areas, trying to minimise the guards from randomally shooting into the innocent by standers, trying to track a difficult running target.

Tiny:
"Stop thief!"

The shout comes from behind you as you try to break the line of fire and surround yourself with bodies. A sharp report of burst fire comes from behind you as several non-lethal alternatives slam into your back.

Bishop:
Muffled shouts carry over the large line of people waiting hopefully for an injection that will keep them safe from one of the greatest plagues of the sixth age. A burst of gunfire is clearly heard.

The sudden impact as the bullets slam in to Tiny's back, make a thudding crack, as the Form fitting armour absorbs the impact. Even through much of the impact was absorbed the pain was still eminent of the impact. With a slight stumble Tiny regains his footing and continues.

With the crowds now scattering from the resounding gunfire. The path is clear but things are still not home free. Keeping his pace weaving and dodging, trying to cover as much ground as possible.

Gonzales looks at his wathc, it's finally late enough to call

"Hey Chirssie, jsut got the full data on the little blue vials, I need them shiped to the CDC with your reports on what they are... key note list that Luke Baiour is an Alias for Lucien Ballefour.. sorry for the inconvenience, will make this one up to you."

He looks at his coffee, and wonders if stoking caffiene on long haul is really a good idea...

"Drek."

Bishop reaches behind his seat, pulling out his SPAS-22. The underbarreled grenade launcher is already loaded with his riot control rounds, his grenade of choise. The throws the door open and lets the BattleTac tell him the best spot to fire.

"Tiny, follow my commands and I'll get you outta here."

Gonzales:

"Will do and don't worry about it, I'm just keeping a running tab. I figure you'll pay up before your next cyber check up, no one likes their steret doc mad at them." You can hear the smile and joke in that last comment as she hangs up the phone. Looking to the coffee, you've never heard anything bad about mixing stimulants, oh wait, heart attacks, that's right....

Bishop:
A chill runs down you spine as if someone walked over your grave. In the distance you hear the sirens of Lonestar patrols barreling down the street. ETA fifteen seconds.

Seeing there isnt much space in Edena's place, Taggart stands and heads for the door. "I will be right back, I got to make a call."

Taking his coffee with him, JT steps outside in front of the flat. He places a call on his cell phone to his contact at Lone Star. "Hey Tak. Did you recover that poor young lady yet? We went back this morning to see the place in some light. We have tracked the target to New York, so it looks like I will be out of town for a bit. I have permits for my weapons, are there any extra forms I have to fill out, being under this high security state we are in right now?"

JT:
The electronic equivalent of Tak's voice comes over the line, subtly telling you that he's working on enough different projects that he has to transduce because he needs both hands.

"I haven't had time yet, the boys upstairs dropped this whole thing in my lap which means I could become a Captain if this works out, or I coud get canned if it doesn't. I'm en route now to Ballefour's lab, someone got the brilliant idea of trying to steal some of the vaccine and we've had shots fired. Listen, give me the names of everyone on your team. I'll send them to the captain in charge of the blockade, he'll need proof from a certified doctor that you are all clean of the virus. What was your exit plan? The streets are dead-locked, I'd recommend an air-taxi."

Hearing the sirens, Bishop climbs back into the Brumby and replaces his firearm in its hiding spot. He opens a line to call through to JT.

Tiny:
You feel the bruising spread across your back as pain shoots tingling sensations down your fingers. Coming back to your feet you press into the crowd which is starting to realize what you are doing and what you have in your hands. The guards in riot gear have closed the gap and are trying to surround you. Each appears to be armed with a heavy stun baton and a riot shield.

The heavyness of the Gell rounds, pushed Tiny like air blowing a packet.

Following the commands that Bishop has sent.

"Where are you parked!" bursts over the comms. "I can't see you yet."

Bishop:
Tiny's comm call is cut short as the sound of stun batons discharging crackles over the radio. Through the rough battle-tac network, you watch the give and take between four guards armed with oversized cattle-prods and your beleaguered companion. The clear sound of cyberspurs getting unsheathed is anti-climactically met by his massive body sinking to the earth under the never tender mercies of electrical impulses. Within seconds, reinforcements have arrived and have the large troll manacled tightly.

By the third ring of your call to JT, Lonestar patrol cars have barreled past you pulling up on the sidewalk. They don't seem to give you a second glance as they charge into the growing anxiety of the mob.

As the patrol cars pull past him, Bishop kicks the Brumby into gear, pulls a U-turn and drives away like none of this was his bussiness.

::Elsewhere::
A tired businessman runs through the trainstation, not taking the time to notice the wash of color and light around him. Pushing out into the cold night air, he steps straight into a taxi that has just unloaded several passengers.

"2716 Wall St. Double fee if you make there in five minutes."

The cabbie looks into the mirror unbelievingly but pulls into traffic with the suddenness that is known to panic less skilled drivers and passengers. Five minutes and seven near accidents later, the businessman climbs out of the cab and hands over a small wad of UCAS dollars.

Shedding his coat at the door, the middle-aged man assumes the position against the wall while a large troll pats him down for weapons. Satisfied that nothing too dangerous is getting brought into the small coffehouse, the bouncer backs away and lets the man through.

"New York wasn't far enough Jonny, you've got to get me on the other side of the pond by tomorrow night otherwise I'm in a lot more trouble than either of us bargained for."

A man covered in shadows smoking a long cigar chuckles and puts out one hand into the light. Two wads of UCAS dollars and a few plastic chips are dropped into his hand.

"C'est mon plaisir."

Handing a briefcase to the businessman, the troll shows him back out the door to the street and the cold wind-swept winter night.

::Seattle Bellevue Lone Star Precinct::

Signing for the last of his goods on the data slate. Tiny puts the last of his personals in to his pockets andn heads out in to the cold are of the streets. Heading to the closest cab stopping area. Tiny hails a cab.

"To the Bling Bling driver." a little crampped with his knees near his chest, Tiny pulls out his cell. Thumbing through the Numbers he finds Bishops name. Thumbs the green phone button.

Waiting for the call to be answered.

Edana gets a clay crock of sake out of her refrigerator and a couple of matching cups from a cabinet. She pours for Charlie and anyone else who's interested, "Thank Gonzales for this, he got me the bottle as a housewarming gift. It's chilled, but it should warm you up nicely."

She hops up onto the counter and picks up her mug, cradling it for warmth.

"Well, how're we going to get to New York? I'm virtually broke. Between rent and some uh... maintenance on the Brumby, I've got about a thousand nuyen to my name."

Herne clears his Astral throat. Probably should have waited to get that moon roof until after the new year.

But I know you like seeing the sky, Herne, though I could really use that money now. She stares into her coffee... Good work chasing down Ballefour.

Thanks for the moon roof.

Her skin swirls and she looks up, dye from the paints leaving vague blue lines and swirls. The overall effect of her pale, blue-tinged is one of oxygen depravation or maybe hypothermia.

"How long do we have before the city starts shutting down and closing off?" She looks at Grave.

JT gives the names of his teamates to the detective. "I figured we would be going by air, we don't have too much time. Do you think Lone Star can set us up with a trip to New York City-ASAP? I will see if we can get to a doctor and get records right away."


After the call with Tak, JT answers his call waiting. "Whats up Bishop?...Oh drek...Maybe Tak can get him out. I will call you back. He may be able to get us out of the city, but we need clean records from a certified doctor. Talk to you in a few minutes."

Lighting up Tak's phone once again, "Sorry to bother you, but one of our opporatives has been captured. He's a troll who goes by the name of Tiny and youre en route to pick him up now."

Helios sighs in frustration as he hears of Tiny's capture.

"That dumb lug," he mutters. "We gotta get to NYC and stop this guy now. This is gonna delay us hours!"

Not too much after calling in, Bishop arrives where the group is gathered. He strolls up and takes a seat with a heavy sigh. "Whats the SitRep on Tiny?"

JT:
Tak doesn't answer and you leave the message in his voice mail box.

"You mean besides the fact he got his ass thrown in jail and has delayed our pursuit by a good few hours?" Helios says to Bishop, clearly impatient. "Not sure."

"You shoulda been there. I pull into the mod scene and let him know I'm there. Before I even know he is in trouble he is bolting for me, but I'm about a block away and there are hundreds of people, plus a bunch of armed guards between him and I. I didn't even know anything was wrong till the guards started smacking him with stun batons. That boy sure don't know a damn thing about tactics, thats for certain."

Charlie gladly accepted the saki. He nodded to Edana.

"Now now kids, let's not start tearing each other apart. It'll make our job that much harder."

He took a sip.

"Now, 's'far as I see it... We gotta keep a close eye on this guy. If he knows we're after 'im, he's gonna be runnin' as much as he can. There any way we can keep 'im still while we go and pick 'im up fer the prize?"

JT follows Bishop back inside. "Well I left Tak a message, he may be able to assist us in exiting the city, and getting to New York. First though, we need to get cleared by an MD. Anyone got a street doc with actual UCAS certification? He may also be able to get Tiny out of jail. Im just waiting on his call. Also does anyone have any idea how we can get there? Hopefully someone has a friend who can fly us there."

Moments slowly creak by, time clawing its way ever forward past indecision towards inevitability.

Tak calls back. "I'll see what I can do," he says. His lack of confidence in pulling the troll out of lock-down is disheartening but to be expected given the situation. Now you are in the providence of lawyers and a cop can only push the system so far. "No one is getting out of town for the next eighteen hours, except maybe through Cascade." The Lonestar detective's parting comment seemed to be as much an apology as a word of advice.

"18 hours..." Helios says. "Well, we should formulate and refine our plan then, and get everything together that we need to be smuggled."

Edana lets out a pent up breath at JT's news. "I can see if Townsend knows anybody who could smuggle us, though he's been out of it for a while."

She looks at the floor thinking, "We definitely need to get those clean bills of health. If nothing else for peace of mind. I'm scared one of us might be a carrier."

"Gonzales, can your Doc friend check us out? I don't really care at this point if we have certified or fake documents to get out of here and after Ballefour, but I really want to know if we're... ...sick. If one of us is carrying VITAS we're all in danger. And anyone we come in contact with."

She takes a big sip from her steaming mug, hiding her worry unsuccessfully behind the cup. Sliding off the counter she slips out the door to call Townsend.

"Assay Townsend, it's Edana again. I have a favor to ask. Do you know anyone who might be able to get me and my team out of the city?" She pauses, "How far out of the city? ...uh... to New York..." The young woman winces as she waits for Townsend's reply.

Edana:
"Darling, that's a costly request at the moment. I know some people who can do it for you, but you could easily be looking at twelve big ones." He pauses to let you weigh the price of several months rent for a plane ride.

"That trip though could probably take six or eight people..." Townsend offers, trying to ease the blow somewhat.

"Edana I am on thin ice with Chrissie from what i already asked her, but given that the only exposure we've had was with sealed glass vials we should be safe."

"I say we at least try to get some of us out of here as soon as possable. The rest can join us in New York. He may be on his way out of the country, I dont think we have enough time to sit here and wait." JT's voice rises as he speaks with enthusiasm. Maybe it is best that half of the team start on Bellafour's trail, while the others take care of business in Seattle. That fits the original "hammer and anvil plan" anyways.

"good call, though I want in on the first team. This has become personal for me."

Grave:

"Alright, those on the chase team presumably would have to go through several customs checks, the train would have to go through quite a few borders. So people with up to date permits and SINs that can stand up to scrutiny can be on the Hammer team. Team Anvil can skip all the rigamole by shipping their stuff with me. So the question is that if the guys on Hammer needs backup or heavier firepower, you are on your own."

"Anvil cannot afford to lose any time getting to New York, so we do not have time to waste in Seattle either. We need to get there before the target leaves New York for Hidey-Hole, Whereever."

"Huh?" Helios says, confused. "Ok, which team's 'Hammer' and which one's 'Anvil?'"

Bishop looks over to Edana, "Why don't we just take your friend up on his offer to smuggle all of us? It costs a lot, but its worth it."

Edana's jaw drops. That's one entire share of the bounty. Though if it's our only real option... She bites her lip, "Thanks Townsend, I'll talk to my team and call you back. Later." She hangs up and nods at Bishop.

"It's a good option. And if we impress this guy we may be able to use him in the future. Couldn't hurt. And it'll be easier than getting out by more... conventional methods."

She scratches behind a twisting horn, "Uh... I'm short most of my share of the flight. I'll need to borrow it until we bring Ballefour in."