Edana nods ruefully at Bishop, "Yeah, lets get to it."

She turns to Mickey, concern creasing her pale brow at the shift in his demeanor. She opens her mouth to speak and a chill breeze blows a lock of white hair across her face. She brushes it away, "Sorry if this has caused any trouble for you. I appreciate it and will pass Piotr's message on."

She pauses, uncomfortable again, "Do we have room enough for another passenger? If we do, I need to send him coordinates to meet us quickly." She looks expectantly at Mickey and smiles weakly, tugging on the collar of the blue coveralls, "Thanks for this. It really does help."

Thanks for scouting.

Rather than reply the spirit materializes in hound form at Edana's side, in the spot just where her hand can just reach an itch on his neck. He leans against her leg. She swallows and breaks her glance away from Mickey, smiling gratefully down at Herne.

Edana:
"Yeah, we can fit one more. Just make sure he hurries, I'm not sitting on a runway with a belly-full of contraband."

Team:
Within twenty minutes, the plane taxis into a small hangar where two large white, kidanapper vans sit with their side doors open. Mickey climbs down from the plane and gestures for the rest of you to follow. He unscrews a hatch from the bottom of the plane and starts loading boxes into the storage compartment.

"Time to earn your tickets."

Without a word, Bishop moves over and helps loading the boxes.

Graves pulls his hood up and pulls down his goggles before helping to load up the boxes.

Edana nods and rapidly finishes her message to Christopher Robbin.

>>>>[Headed out to see our good friend soon. You joining us? We're at coordinates encyrpted. Get here as fast as mortally possible.]<<<<
--Sturmdottir [00:05:30/17-DEC2063]

The tall, thin woman helps as best she can, but rather than doing the heavy-lifting she puts her mind to work arranging the crates so that they will be as efficient as possible to load and unload.

Helios starts packing the stuff, eager to get started on the hunt once again.

Kane quickly rushes ahead to inspect each crate. He turns and barks in JT's direction after each one. "Its ok boy, think of it as evidence."

After a quick pat on the head, Kane goes back to work. JT takes the que from the dog and hurries to work as well.

Edana:
Pulling yourself into the cramped space where none of your larger companions could fit, you quickly organize and arrange boxes to efficiently use the space provided. Just as the last box is loaded in, your p-sec vibrates at your waist startling you. With a brief yelp, you accidentally let go of the lip of the storage area and fall inches onto Herne's back. The stallion shakes his head, causing his mane to ripple in the air, before melting back into his hound form. Your feet reach the ground as the soft bristles of hair start to push through his flesh.

>>>>[I'm about eight rows back right now from our mutual friend. How about we meet there? Message me when you arrive.]<<<<
--Christopher Robbin [00:05:41/17-DEC2063]

Team:
With the loading finished, Mickey gestures everyone on to the plane.

"Your friend coming sister? I want to be in the air as soon as possible."

Tiny get out, having to exercised inthe last couple of hours this is the right time to apply his muscle. Going a head, making as short work as possible of the creates which are to be loaded.

"Thats the last one, lets get going. We need not waste more time..."

Getting back in Tiny settles in with renewed interest.

Edana gulps bracing herself for the impact that doesn’t come. She blinks, taking a moment to register Herne’s presence. Hoo… thanks, Herne. She swallows, heart pounding from the tension of the expected drop. She gives the spirit an affectionate squeeze before checking the chiming p-sec.

She looks up from the small screen at Mickey and shakes her head, “Nope, he’s found his own transportation. We’re ready to go.”

Edana laughs uncomfortably at Kane’s dutiful barking. She grins at JT and scratches behind an ear, sharing a guilty co-conspirator’s glance with the former officer.

Tiny rumbles an admonishment for the group to get a move on and Edana clambers onto the jet. A niggling thought resurfaces. Christopher Robbin sure is on the ball here… a step ahead of us and almost apace with Ballefour. What if he’s an agent of Ballefour’s? She shakes her head. Then we don’t let on that we know. Play double agent and do our own work on the side.

Paranoid much? Herne's sending is laced with lazy humor.

Use slang much?

More like: Been around you too much. I long for The Hunt.

And the Huntsman’s crop? You long for that?

Herne’s presence bristles and a backlash of resentment over millennia of servitude crashes across their link. Edana grips her seat as she rocks back, white knuckles even whiter. She regrets her words as the reality that though she is a kinder mistress than the Huntsman, Herne is still leashed to her will against his own. He reads her reeling thoughts.

Yes, a slave… Mistress.

I’m sorry, Herne. I was… it was a long time ago. I didn’t understand.

And yet I am still here.

Edana swallows. Guilt and anger spiking along the link. No. No, Herne. WE are still here. You are part of me. You are part me. The young woman’s eyes tear, guilt gnawing at her. I would be lost… her thoughts clamp down as the other bounty hunters climb aboard. She turns away, dashing an arm across her eyes.

Taggart straps himself in, and grabs a loose hold of Kane's collar. He doesn't want the him to be startled by the liftoff again. Instead Kane surprises his master, and knows what's coming. He prances in place, followed by some friendly licks to JT's hand. His tail wags in excitement for another flight.

"Okay boy, we'll be going in just a minute."

Team:
With everyone on board, the plane backs out of the hangar and with a few quiet moments on the runway, takes off.

A few hours in to the flight, you realize how long it has been since anyone has eaten anything as the smell of Insta-Kaf fills the cabin. Mickey sips gently at the cheap soy-kaf to wash the energy bar he is eating down with. With a few shared glances, bottles of water and snacks got pulled out of your carry-on luggage and backpacks to be spread around.

The sun passes you, day becoming night as you travel hours forward in time crossing the Atlantic. Members of the team catch up on what little rest they can. Visions of Long Haul patches dance across chemically alert optic nerves.

With a steep downward angle, everyone is alerted that you are coming into land. The jet jerks hard to the right and bounces in the darkness, coming to rest on a rural road. Outside, once the door is unlocked, the sound of two trucks parking is heard. The unseen drivers speaking a bizarre mix of French and German, interspersing words and structures within the same sentence.

"Well, wasn't that fun. Here's my number, remember to call when you need a ride home. The folks outside should have a van waiting for you, drive west on this road until you come to the carrefour which connects you to the highway. Take that into France, I'd recommend exiting nine kilometers before reaching the border and taking the south road. It has fewer, entanglements."

With that, Mickey leaves you to diasembark as he climbs down and begins speaking in hushed tones in a very harsh, crisp German.

Tigger:
The flight is comfortable with meal service, in-flight entertainment, and personal climate control. Arriving in Geneve, the melanin slowly darkens your face, until by the time you reach customs, a dark African male shows his travel visa and is welcomed to Europe. The mark pushes quickly through the hustle and bustle of the airport and meets a limo driver holding a small sign reading "Baiour" and armed with a sharp wit and sharper eyes. Diverting course, you track the mark as he is walked out to the limo and waits with the chauffeur while a porter brings two suitcases to the car.

Bishop grabs his gear and begins to load up the van. As he does so, he askes to the group as a whole, "Anyone speak the local languages? I shoulda thought to pick up a lingasoft..."

"Not unless we are heading to Spain."

Bishop chuckles. "Same here."

"Actually, I speak some German," Helios replies.

Tigger moves forward through the crowd, keeping the mark at the edges of his senses. He stops to speak with an airport worker. He begins a conversation, his french clear and fluid.

Tigger:
The young hospitality clerk is more than willing to answer your questions. She offers you several suggestions on dining and hotel accomodations, her body language shifts from standoffish to completely at ease as the two of you joke softly between recommendations.

You overhear Ballefour, his French crisp, native, and lacking the uncultured American sound. "Take me to the lodge please."

"Of course, sir. Marc, please collect some appropriate luggage."

Amandine, the young woman, calls over a cab. She leans in to open the door for you, slipping a small card into the pocket on your overcoat.

The limo begins to pull away from the curb.

Tigger smiles and slides the card into his pocket-sec. Perhaps I can afford a little lay over this trip. He leans forward to speak with the driver. "Can you tell me which chateau is closer? Sang Real, Paradis or Val Thorens? A friend insisted I stay at one of them this trip."

Tigger:
"Paradis is the closest, monsieur, though Sang Real is assuredly worth the extra drive. Val Thorens is a private lodge, only available to members and their guests. It is between the two, but I do not know anyone who has ever been there."

The cab door shuts softly, Amandine smiling as she turns away and returns to her duties. You watch the limo turn left, it is heading for the airport exit.

"Where would you like to go monsieur? I cannot take you to any of the lodges but could easily take you to a train station that would or perhaps a private car rental facility, possibly your hotel?"

Rural team:
The van is idling as you move towards it, opening the side door you see enough seating for ten if you're cozy with your gear. The heater is turned on full to make the van a wonderful alternative to the snowy hills surrounding you.

Flashback episode Visions of snowy white mountains flaot before your eyes. The view from free fall is simply spectacular. Peaceful white peaks, so incongruous to your purpose here. You are laden with weapons and ammunition, HALOing into... somewhere.

Shaking off the memory, Graves replies,"Sorry, can't speak the lingo."

Tiny get to the van, looking for the most comfortable seat he sits down an enjoys the warmth of the vehicle.

"So where are we off to now. I am already lost." Looking out the window in to the blackness of the night. Talking under his breath.

"So what do you look like out there." His thermal vision just depicting blue land scapes.

"Excellent suggestion. Let's go to a car rental, the nearest is fine." Tigger leans back into the seat and pulls out his poc-sec. Pulling up his last email with the fellow hunter, he quickly sends another email.

>>>>[Ok, I got here safely. Where should we meet? Call me at the attached number so we can meet up.]<<<<
--Christopher Robbin [00:10:32/17-DEC2063]

JT looks around, seeing no one else heading for the driver seat, he climbs in. Kane follows, sitting between the two front buckets, ready for the trip. JT reaches across the consol and checks the glove box for a map.

Tigger:
The drive from the airport is short and uneventful, moments later the cab pulls into a car rental facility. You pay him and head inside. Behind the counter is a North African male in his mid twenties, handsome if not for the acne scars.

Team:
Climbing into the van, JT quickly lays his hands on a folding map of France, Switzerland and Northern Italy. When the rest of the team has climbed in, the side door to the van gets pulled shut and the temperature slowly begins to rise to something more comfortable than the snowy exterior.

Edana:
A quiet chirp comes from underneath your jacket accompanied by the familiar vibration of your p-sec.

Edana sat quietly through the flight, staring out the windows when she wasn’t sleeping. She tried, with little success, to shut out the flood of imagery as Herne ranged out in front of the plane.

The plane landed roughly in the dark. She stood and began to shuck the coverall to give back to Mickey as the engines wound down. He stopped her with a ‘you’re gonna need that’ look. Edana nodded, mind wandering as Mickey said his farewell.

"Well, wasn't … fun? … number … folks outside …west on … carrefour which connects you to the highway. Take that into France, I'd recommend exiting nine kilometers before reaching the border and taking the south road. It has fewer, entanglements."

Carrefour? What in the world? The unfamiliar word had focused her a bit and she smiled at Mickey, eyes shadowed underneath from poor sleep, skin shadowed all over from tension and strain. “Thanks.”

Clambering out onto the roadway awkwardly, stiff from so long in the confines of the small jet, Edana finds herself doubly glad of the coverall as a cutting wind shrieks up the road. The chime of her p-sec goes unnoticed as the cold of the gust drives all thought from her mind but getting into the inviting warmth of the van. She shakes her head in the negative when the inquiries come about languages, “Just Gaelic.”

On the edge of her consciousness Herne’s circuit of the area yields little but cold snow and lots of it. Safety, momentary perhaps, emanates from the corded bundle of Herne’s link to his mistress. She closes her eyes briefly, searching for the strength to be done with him forever. To end it. It was not the first time she’d sought to sever their bond, but she’d never been able to bring herself to do it.

She growls, startling JT, as she helps him down the ramp. Turning and moving at a jog, she piles into the van sitting with Tiny and Gonzales, the wired dwarf looking comically small between the tall, horn-bearing folks flanking him.

As her temperature starts to rise and the lean woman begins to relax, Edana registers something odd in the vibration of the van. Crumbs! She paws for her p-sec. Wonder how long ago I got this? She checks the time stamp. Not too long ago. She scans the message and records the comm number into her secretary. She starts to connect the call and pauses.

“Our friend from the big apple is here and wants to meet up. Where do you think would be a good place? Or should I just call and set that up?” She peers at Graves and Bishop, “We still want to trust this guy? I mean, hook up with him.”

Wonder if Debian has had a chance to look up any additional data for us. She purses her lips and a thought occurs to her, “Say how do you secure a line?”

"Is he still on Bellafour's tail?," JT asks as he scans the map, looking for the airport where the targets plane landed.

"We can meet him en route?," he continues, still following the map with his eyes, as if he were talking it, and not Edena.

After scanning the map for what seems to be the longest two minutes ever, JT puts the van in motion. The rear of the van slides to the left across the icy road. The driver gives a slightly embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, my feet are a bit heavy after two long flights." He again steps on the gas pedal, though this time with a lot more ease. The van slowly accelerates and the team is again underway.

JT takes in the beautiful foreign scenery, but all the while searching for something that may help him locate their position. Let it be a road sign, a major intersection, or a landmark, he needs something...wait a minute.

"Graves, do these Battletach things have GPS? If the van did that would be fraggin great." Kane gives JT a look as if he understood, and was surprised to hear the swear from his master.

"Yeah, or at least I think so," Edana answers JT's question. Quick way to find out. She calls the number that Christopher Robbin sent her. She leans her head toward the window and looks out at the snowy dimness. Beautiful. She smiles as the call connects.

"Mr. Robbin? We're here, all safe and sound. Where do you want to-- " she gasps and grips the door handle as the vehicle fishtails and she darts an anxious glance at JT. "--meet up?"

In the Van:
The two Swiss smugglers jump clear of the road as the van pulls out faster than anyone expected. Edana's voice breaks the steady quiet of the vehicle left after JT's biting commentary.

Slowly the purple gives way to pink on the eastern horizon as the sun begins to rise behind the mountains. Coming up on the intersection of highways heading northeast to Berlin and west to Geneva, you are able to point out where you are on the map. Like any warm-blooded male, you continue along your route, heading west without stopping for directions.

Tigger:
The gentleman behind the counter looks up to help you, but hearing your cell phone begin to chirp, he sits back down. He draws up an Algerian paper and begins skimming through the editorials.

Its the first time Tiny has been in Europe. The beauti of the land scape make him smile.

"Hell yea,this beat seattle. I would live here anyday."

Tigger smiles and fishes out his phone. "Nice to finally talk to a person. I'm in the process of getting a rental to get around but if you have a vehicle, you could just swing by and pick me up. That work for you?"

JT smiles at Tiny's comment. Maybe it would be nice to live out someplace like this again someday. I'm sure it has the same problems CFS had, but it would be a refreshing change. The dog shaman's thoughts drift on, as the van glides down the road, quickly and smoothly making its way towards Geneva.

Tiny smiles and gives a soft giggle, as what he had read about CFS.

"JT how can one give up such land scape, I have also ready some where that the ghouls are rife out here in europe. Where there are ghouls there are other critters. Just wondering on the bounties this side?"

"Maybe we can make some contacts out here. Im sure there is work out here." JT continues to watch the rolling landscaping, speeding at him. "Im sure Kane wouldnt mind chasing down some critters or criminals out here, but Im sure the good old UCAS has some nice places as well."

"You ever been to Mount Shasta?"

"NO, I have not. But does not Caine history come from these parts? I am sure he is a europian breed. He may have a sense of knowing."

Looking out the windows again, absorbing the beauti of the land scape.

Helios looks out the windows of the van at the snow-covered fields, a grim expression on his face.

Cold. Death. Like what will happen to the world if this abominable scientist is not brought to justice.

Everyone else was looking out with wonder and awe, like they were about to jump out of the van and have a snowball fight or something.

Helios sighed heavily as he considered that. Sometimes, he wished he could think like they did, just let go and have fun. But he couldn't. The world needed protecting, and its heroes must remain ever-vigilant, so that the forces of darkness may never gain a foothold.

Besides, any happy memories associated with snow disappeared six years ago.

December 17th, 2057....

Helios sighs heavily once again.

And this time, he feels something unexpected.

A dampness rolling down his face.

Tears?

No! I have to remain strong

The vampire hunter quickly wipes the moisture from his face, only to feel more rush down to replace it. Unable to wipe it all away, he buries his face in his arms, pretending to be asleep.

What's wrong with me?! Why am I faltering now?!! This is no time for weakness!

But Helios's long-repressed tears cannot be held back by force of will alone, and he finds himself with his head in his arms for most of the trip to hide this from his teammates.

"Yeah, it is nice to hear a voice." Edana grins. "We have room for you, it'll be uh... cozy."

She leans forward talking to JT as she moves the phone's mic away from her mouth, "Can you find the airport on that map? We need to pick up CR."

She moves the mic back, "We'll be there as fast as we can. And we can talk about our surprise party plans then."

"Thats where we are heading. Does he still have eyes on?"

Driving through the countryside, soft hillsides are over taken in places by massive corporate enclaves seeming to spring out of nothing and give way back to the rural countryside. JT notices a pair of astral hitchhikers with large packs heading towards Geneva, but by the time he blinks they are gone again.

A toll stop is coming up in about a quarter mile.

JT eases off the gas as the team approaches the stop. The heavily weighed down van decellerates quickly as it closes in on the toll booth.

"Edena...do you see any spirits or mages around? We don't have any papers, and we may have to 'improvise'. I can handle the talking, but I just don't want any watchers on us."

Looking around Tiny Keeps a watchful eye on the going ons at the toll plaza. This is Europe, so keping a look out for anything odd. People may act differently here. Recollecting from the time he flew from his home land China to Seattle. People do act differently, so why should this be any different.

Tigger moves out of the way of the flow of people going i n and out of the rental office. Been on hold here for awhile.

"Everything ok over there?"

It's a weird thing splitting your consciousness. Edana closes her eyes momentarily opening her mind to the Astral presence of this alternately wild and tainted place. She looks for spirits and sees Herne loping alongside the car, spirit tongue lolling. He doesn't look over.

No. No watchers. None that I've seen yet. I'll make another pass. He takes a bounding stride that takes him beyond Edana's limited astral sight. She opens her eyes and shakes her head at JT, catching his questioning eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"Eh, sorry there, Mr. Robbin. Yes, we're on our way. You keeping an eye on our good friend?" Her lilting voice sounds brittle over the comm.

Bishop has remained reletivly quiet in the back of the van for most of the ride, deep in thought. Too many old memories on this side of the world for him to deal with. As things start heating up, he checks his gear and lifts his chin, keeping an eye out for any action.

Pulling up to the toll booth, the fee to continue on is two euros. The van's engine rumbles in the early morning air, wanting to continue onwards. A thick steel bar hangs stertched across the highway waiting for payment before it rises to allow safe passage.

"He's in transit but I can pick up his trail at the airport easily enough. Why don't you head there." Tigger walks back out, looking for a shuttle or cab to take him back to the airport.

Look around the booth, just to make sure there are no surprises. The booths are normally manned by some security type. Maybe catch you further down the road. If they know you have arrived. Tiny shakes his head, releaving himself of the paranoia that has just set in.

Things have been far to quite, beside the stupid mistake he made in Seattle, which has cost him a few Nuyen. But determined to make end meet, and get his head above water.

The ride already seems to long, hopefully the return one is quick, it usually is. But it seems that this one maybe different.

JT digs in his pocket, handing over a couple nuyen. "I hope you take North American currency, we havent had a chance to exchange for Euros yet," he says with a smile to the toll jockey.