"I'll be monitoring 767 MHz on my tranceiver" Rip says. "with 746 MHz as a backup channel." As he talks he's crouched down on the floor, checking and rechecking all of his gear.

He gets up and adds. "Good luck. If things go to to drek, I'll bring the Roto-drone in across the rooftop and try to draw any fire away from you guys that I can. I'll try to give you some warning when it gets close. Hopefully you can get out in the resulting confusion."

Sigmund laughs off the Ballerina's acid tone, and takes the jammer off his back, setting it to leave those two channels alone.
"All right, looks like we're ready to go. Lead on, Nerd."

"If no one minds, I will sit in at the meet table. If anyone has a better place to put me, please say so."

Sabosect had chosen to return to his apartment after dawn arrived. The next day and part of the day after were mostly spent in meditation, as he mentally prepared himself for this. He may have to cast spells and call spirits like he never had before if things go bad.

When he arrived at the meeting, he was grim. He hid the bike to the best of his ability, choosing to keep the stim patches and goggles with him rather than leaving them behind. Then, the shaman walked into the safehouse.

The shaman listened to what each said, his face not smiling. He also thought of the signal, wondering what he should use. Then, it hit him.

"If there is anything you should know that is not an immediate, I'll retreat to my body and let Rip know. He can call one of you. Make it look like a date is calling to check up on their love. If it is an ambush, I'll manifest or let you know in some other way. Don't be surprised if I have a few pets on hand to help," Sabosect said.

Then he thought for a moment about whether or not to use one of his surprises. He quickly dismissed it as not important and a waste of resources. After all, this group didn't know and would take possible offense to it.

The Nerd had arrived to the safehouse early in the afternoon. It was good to be a shift manager at the shop, since he had more leeway on when to work... he could always switch shifts with one of the other managers without anybody raising an eyebrow. He checked and rechecked his equipment, setting frequencies in his transceiver and jammer, running diagnostics on all of his hardware, and even making sure he was well-shaved, that his jacket was clean and lint-free, and that he used a discrete cologne. If he was going to negotiate with a corp suit, he might as well play the corp game well.

As the hour approached, he rechecked all his gear twice, put everything in its place, put his mirrored sunglasses on, and looked at the rest of the assemble team. "Time to dance, ladies and gents, so let's start moving."

After about seven o'clock, The Lighthouse begins to increase it's attendance. People getting off work, and the regulars start piling in. Certain younger people get moved out of where they were sitting by the "regulars." The air smells like cheap beer, cigarettes, and piss. The bartender and the waitresses know almost everyone there, and the ones they don't know sit quietly drinking their sorrows away. The bar is filled with music, noise of television, and the laughter of the local patrons. The main door is left unguarded, and the back alleyway has a door that noone seems to go through. The outside has gotten colder, however the rain has slowed to a light drizzle, leaving the ground slick but not flooded. The streets have the hobos out, but te hookers and the normal wanderers are where they call home and out of the rain. The local pizza places and stores are also sparcely populated.

"Yeah this place is real high class," Raven mumbles to herself. The tall elf stepped through the door, immediately feeling out of place. The AP sat comfortably in her back as she made her way through the crowd. She got more than a few looks from men and woman a like.

The back of the place was no better than the front, but it was as good as any.

"I'm in, if this goes ugly, there is going to be a blood bath," she said to her companions over the radio.

Now came the hard part, waiting.

Sabosect slipped into Astral mode, his mind making the transition with ease. Making it a point to remember the location of his body and the van, Sabosect quickly moved into the bar. He looked around, not bothering to try to read anyone yet, and smiled. Then, he walked over to where Raven sat and stuck his hand through her to let her know he's there.

Looking around, Sabosect hoped this guy didn't bring along magic. He really didn't feel like having that battle as of yet. Besides, there was possible money to be made from this.

Ballerina slipped into the rather run down cafe opposite the bar. She watched as Raven slipped inside, looking for anyone that had been trailing the samurai.

Motioning to the pimply waiter, she ordered herself three double cheeseburgers for the wait, the familiar weight of her guns pressed at her sides.

"..in position..." she sent through her internal radio to the rest of the team, her gaze moving up and down the street through the grimy window.

About twelve minutes after Sabosect enters the bar, Ballerina sees a Cadillac pull up to the bar and park in a reserved soit in the street.A man and 2 big trolls get out of the car. They're wearing trenchcoats and carrying umbrellas. They get out and walk into the bar where they vanish from Ballerina's sight

For the insiders, they see a mnan and two trolls walking in, smiling and laughing. They take off their jackets ang give it to one of the trolls, as he walks everything into the restricted access in back. While the other goes up to the bar and nods for his usual, waiting for the pitcher to fill up. Lastly, The man after getting off his jacket and coat, he makes his rounds in the bar, shaking hands with most of the regulars smiling and laughing, but tells everyone, "I gotta take care of some business first." All the patrons seem to hail Jones as one of their own, and are glad to see him around. Eventually, he makes his way to the back behind the restricted access curtain, with the other troll in tow, holding 3 frosted mugs and a pitcher of House.

A jovial Johnson. Huh...doesn't mean a thing.
Sigmund finishes up his game of pool and moves to behind the curtain, flipping the jammer to 'high intensity, short range' as he does so.

Two minutes before the appointed time, the Nerd enters the place with a black winter coat over his attire, and an old Borsalino hat on his head. Although old, the hat is in good condition, and at least it does not let the Nerd's head get wet.

As he enters the place, he savors the smells. Not Parisian perfumes, no sir.. Yet, they do not bother him. He just wants a take on the place, not merely by sight, but also smells, sounds, touch... and the place looks like it is a good one to conduct business in. I might want to become a regular, he thinks, if this deal sees us alive at the end.

Walking with a half-smile on his face, and without taking the coat off yet, the Nerd walks to the bar. Once there, he call the attention of the barman. "Excuse me, but I am looking for a Mr. Jones... I have an appointment with him. Do you happen to know him?" Of course he does, he's probably in the Johnson's payroll or a close relative or chummer, but this is the game of cat and mouse, and the rules of the game have to be followed.

Raven nods to Nerd as he comes in.

"looks all clear," she says over the radio.

She waits for him to go in before following behind him.

Sabosect pauses at the auras. These people were not ones he wanted to play around with. This could be bad.

Returning to his body briefly, Sabosect turns to the rigger and says, "We've got a problem. Both trolls are cybered, but one of the trolls and Johnson are both awakened. Let the others know while I go full astral again."

Shifting back into the astral, Sabosect returned to the bar, just in time to see Nerd head to the counter. He decides to enter the back room before Nerd does, wanting to get an idea of what these guys are like. After all, he was prepared for any eventuallities. If one of them was dealing with the astral, he'd simply say he is unable to make the meet physically and had to show up astrally and he had plans of manifesting during the meeting so people would know he is there.

"you got an appointment with john? you must be a new team, alright then, i'll buzz for one of them. "

Soon, John Jones comes back out, and the entire bar quites to a low whisper. "Hail my new friends, come join me we have much to do, drinks to swallow, and lives to be lived." John smiles and shakes the hand of every runner present. Every one else just waits patiently with small smiles on their faces casually watching John Jones as he walks back to stand on the bar. "Now, for the moment you've ALL been waiting for, The first round... for everyone in this room... is on me!" After hearing this, all the bar patrons clap wildly and chant the name "JOHN JONES, JOHNE JONES, JOHN JONES..."

John jumps back down and barks orders at the bartendress, "Get the new faces whatever they want, and bring them back to the room, and extra pitchers for those three tables back there." He points to three tables of russians, a bit noticeable, but friendly faced enough. Seems everyone here is mostly about having a good time.

John motions everyone to place their drinks and come back into the back, as the bar resimes its usual nightly routines.

The back is a big half circle, as he sits on the flat side, a 3d projecter in the middle, and seats for everyone around the arched edge of the circle. the two trolls vanish into the shadows behind John.

The Nerd follows the Johnson into the back room, after taking a large much of the house's own. Yet, although he openly carries the mug, he has made no sign of drinking from it yet.

The one thing he does is to signal those outside. "We are going in," he says using his subvocal mike. So be on the alert.

He does take off his black winter coat, and puts it on his lap. His briefcase is ever with him too.

Head's up people" Rip says over the radio. We got two heavily Chromed Trolls in there. One of them is awakened, as is Mr Johnson himself...

He continues monitoroing the feeds from his Condor and from the Van, then checks the status of the Strato-nine in his drone rack, verifying that it is ready to launch. As he looks through the Condor's sensors he concentrates both on anything approaching the var, and anything that is approaching the van. He really did not want to have anything sneak up on him here.

He shifts slightly in his chair, making himself more comfortable. He glances at himself lying there through the sensors of his Steel Lynx. He wheels the crawler around so that its facing the back door and waits.

Frag, after getting his glass of house, follows Nerd back with the J. He moves to a corner and leans against the wall, taking small drinks from the cheap beer.

Ah drek Magicals, troll is probably Adept and the Johnson mage. Cinder keeps his thoughts to himself and sits in his back room chair with an impassive expression on his face.

Ballerina sips on a cup of cheap, and fairly lousy, soykaf as she watches from the cafe across the street. The chatter of her teammates lets her know they are well positioned, they may a bunch of oddballs, but they certainly know how to run a meet.

She gets an idea of the commotion the johnson caused with his free drinks, and a slight frown crosses her pale features. Why would someone interested in hiring a team like hers advertise their presence? Shifting a little in her stool, the weight of her pistols provides any reassurance she might need.

"....all quiet on the western front.....hope you're playing nice Frag" she radio whispers to the rest of the team.

Frag chuckles silently, but says nothing otherwise.

Yeah, I'll play nice until they pull somethin'.

He pats his side reassuringly, knowing the mace is just, figuratively, screaming for blood.

Sabosect continues to watch, smiling as he sees the group pile in the room. But, he is impatient. The longer he is in here, the stiffer he'll be when he returns to his meat. After all, the floor of a van isn't the most comfortable place to sleep.

After everyone is seated. John Jones turns and faces the group. "Hello everyone, My name is John Jones which I'm sure Jarvis has told you. I've worked with Jarvis many times, and I trust his judgement. He probably filled you in on the basics of the situation. Like I told him, i need a good team to fulfill a few missions for me. This first run, we need it done in 5 days, the run is simple, we want you to take this man into this facility and let him hack into their intranet. We are giving you floor plans to the facility, and we have you meeting your teammate tomorrow morning. the first run will give your team 100k total, with 20k up front. For now... that's it, any questions?"

'The run is simple'...how many times have I heard THAT one before?
"Ah, but you don't want us for a simple run. You requested our fixer's best team. What's the complication?"

"You're right I did" Jones leans back, as he pushes a button, and the face of a young woman, and a 3d rendering of the facility comes up behind him. I always like to work with the best, but my information department is lacking because we have no information on what's going on down in a certain lab. "This is a simple information gathering, the hard stuff comes later. And that's when I will need the best. now anything else?"

Rip, you're condor seems to have some strange readings, of three pairs of metas walking towards the bar from different locations. Initial sensors and cams show that they are armed, but given your guess of their path, and their current rate of travel they are planning to arrive within 10 minutes. Also, your van sensors have picked up a condor flying over your head a couple times now, it doesn't seem to be following any pre-programmed flight path, but it has zipped past your van a couple times from what you can tell.

Sigmund nods to the Nerd- the negotiation is his work, after all.

There's another Condor flying around up here. Don't know if its made me or not Rip remarks calmly oiver the radio. I also am tracking three different pairs of armed metas heading towards the bar on foot from differentt directions. At their present rate of speed, they should be at the bar in about 10 minutes.

You guys may have some company soon.

Roger that, keep us updated. Heads up, gang, zone just became hot. All safeties off. Repeat, zone is hot, all safeties off. Subvocals were such nice gadgets.

Looking at the Johnson, the Nerd wondered if the intruders were his or not. Good thing everybody was packing heavy. It just would not do if they had been caught like sitting ducks. "Mr. Jones, your fee just doubled, with 50% down payment transfered directly to Jarvis. That is, unless the 3 pairs of metas and the flyer overhead are yours, but I have a gut feeling those boys are not your chummers..."

The Nerd had hardly moved at all. His face remained a mask of calmness, yet those who knew him knew that face of his was like the eye of the huricane. The only noticeable movement he made was slowly lifting his left hand to adjust the position of his eyeglasses... and turning the imaging on. He did not think Mr. Jones was trying to hit on them... they were small fry. He was almost sure Mr. Jones was the target of the hit...

Sigmund nods and stands up.
"'scuse me for a moment."
Then, he walks over to the bartender, speaking in an undertone.
"If you have a shotgun under that thing now would be an excellent time to make sure it's loaded. Trouble's coming...and no, I won't be more specific."
He walks back to the meeting place and flips his jammer onto full, hoping to interfere with OpFor's communications.

After hearing the Nerd's words, Jones leans back. One of the troll brothers has come up to him, whispered something into his ear, and handed him a radio. Jones nods his head at the troll and began talking subvocally into the radio. Then as a sudden flash of memory he turns to the group and says "Hold on," as he spins around in his chair so that the back faces the table. As Sigmund walks back into the room, everyone inside but the Nerd can hear a few clicks and cha-chinks of rounds being chambered, a shotgun or two getting cocked, and for those who's senses seem to be on fire, the click of safeties.

After a few minutes the Johnson turns back around and says, "No. This run isn't worth the amount i'm giving you, it could easily be done by me myself, I just wanna see how well you guys handle it. Take it or leave it. However, those men aren't mine, I know who they are, and my friends have already been notified. They are still far away, so I'm not sure why you guys started alerting my bartenders about it. But, if you want, I'll give your group a 5k bonus up front, if you guys get in position to back me up. And, if things go south i'll throw in another 20k of personal money."

"So, what say you, are you in? there's only 10 of them, and their rent-a-cop level, it'll be fun! besides otherwise you're just waiting in here..." Jones stands up and subdermally talks through his radio again, and then gives you guys a look as he waves his hand at the door.

Sigmund says nothing, but looks at the Nerd and takes his position at a window with his huge assault rifle.
The deal sounds good to me...but he owns the whole place? An interesting man, Mr. Jones...
And how in HELL is his subdermal mic working through all this jamming? A most interesting man indeed.

"If were going to go, now is the time. If we don't buzz turbo in the next two minutes, it's a firefight." Raven says to the Nerd.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Jones, but as a show of goodwill, we side with you. After all there is nothing like bleedig together to start a busines relationship." The Nerd sighed inwardly. He had read the situation right. It would have been foolish to draw guns on this Johnson... when it was not necessary. "So, where do you want us, boss?" The nerd opened his briefcase and took out his jammer. He then asked, "what frequencies do you want open? I'm jamming all except yours and ours."

Then, without waiting for the reply, he spoke into his subvocal. This is a go, go, go. Jones is the principal and is to be protected. Team safety is a close second. So, ladies we go weapons hot, repeat, weapons hot.

It was not going to be as easy as those closing in thought... they were in for a nasty surprise. As he thought about that, he withdrew his SMG from under his jacket, made sure safety was off, and in burst mode. He then waited for mister Jones to tell him what to do.

Frag reached in a pocket and pulled out his shock gloves, then started snapping them on. After that, he reached under his jacket and let the mace fall into his hands.

"Ya ready, baby? Gonna taste some blood t'night."

He flourished the mace a few times then rested it on his shoulder.

"Let's do this."

Raven stepped back, turned and leaned against the door, he left hand reached behind her and pulled out the AP2. The weapons electronic suite interfaced with her own. The display in her eye registered the safety as off, and that 15 rounds of XX were loaded in the chamber.

"Question, are they coming for us, or for you," she directed to the Johnson.

Sabosect saw Nerd's and Raven's actions and moved to outside the building, taking a look at those approaching the building. He wanted an idea of what he was up against. Then he quickly retreated to his body.

While there, he chose to call out for aid, softly humming a song from his youth as his mind reached out for a spirit of the city. The spirit, much to his surprise, appeared and left him not even feeling affected. Smiling, he decided to wait on giving it tasks.

"Rip, fill me in. It looks like we're preparing for a battle, and not against the Johnson. Also, tell the others to not get close to the drekheads we're fighting against. If they are as many as I think, I'm going to be using my bigger spells," Sabosect said.

"Great, you deploy your team as you see fit, roof access is there, you'll see a couple of my guys up there. The bar's sealed with blast walls as is the door, and we have slits for covering fire, but we like to keep attention away as much as possible, I'll be standing in front of this little cafe accross the way. It's being evaced in 1 minute, and you might want your agent leaving there soon, next time tell her to keep radio silence. Altough people don't hear you, people notice you speaking subdermally. personally my guys are deployed fanned out and keeping melees and mages here in the bar to rush out when necessary. But I don't want to murder these men, we'll try to scare with numbers first, but if things do go south, be ready for anything. We'll monitor my radio, here's one with 3 main presets, link up with that."

John Jones then nods at the brothers and they walk out of the bar which has deafened, as many patrons have gone into hiding in the basement. He maintains his place right in front of the cafe, sitting in a chair at a little table, his trolls go in to clear out the place and getting themselves a pot of coffee and a whole bunch cups, he puts it down on another raggedy table.

On the roof you hear a few clanks as it seems some heavy boxes were being pulled out.

Ballerina looks singularly unimpressed as she watches the johnson move toward the cafe. Casting him a knowing glance she is up and out of the front door just as he arrives to begin his sit-in.

"Taking up position opposite the bar, I'll eliminate any identifiable command figure, non-lethally if possible" she transduces the message to he team network as she slips into an alleyway opposite the bar. Her skin is already starting to meld with the surrounding environment, ruthemium polymers concealing her smalll form as she draws her tazer and makes ready.

"We've been hired to protect the Johnson" Rip says as he prepares to launch his Strato-nine drone. "I've seen 6 potential bad guys out there, three sets of two, heading this way. There's also a Condor out there, doesn't belong to me. "

He watches to see where the opposition's Condor is, and waits to launch the drone until the Condor is out of sight.

The Strato-nine launches from his van and stays low. It backs down the alley, and around the corner, working its way around the block where it idles, waiting.

He keys up the Radi, saying Sabosect recommends keeping some distance from any targets, don't wanna get caught in the mojo he'll be flinging....

Can someone update me on any friendlies we have in the area please?"

"Nerd to team. Bar is full of friendlies, including melees and mages. Civilians in the basement. On the roof there are other friendlies, and from the sound of it, the hardware is bigger than the crew. As I see it, Sigmund, Raven, Frag, and I are inside the building, which Jones just said is blast-proof, Ballerina is out there doing her thing, and Rip and Sabosect are in the mobile CP, unless Sabosect is still roaming. One more thing. Do not fire unless the principal is attacked of he starts the fray. We are backup, so we do not, repeat do not, begin hostilities." The Nerd took position at one of the available windows, with weapon at the ready, fiddling with his jammer, freeing Jone's three frequencies, and keeping Jones' radio in his belt.

Damn, that Jones is one cool, tough, customer. He looks like an English gent drinking his 5 o'clock tea. Man, my adrenaline would be pumping like crazy, and yet he's ready to exchange pleasantries with the incloming bogeys.

"Sigmund, your position is good, but you might also want to try the roof. Your piece is big enough to be pretty accurate from up there, while my HK is too short-barrelled to be of much use. besides, if the hardware up there is too heavy, it'll need protecting against lighter, swifter enemies."

He's trying to impress us- my-black-ops-penis-is-bigger type stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if the attack was staged.
If the run's as interesting as the meet, then this could be quite fun.
Sigmund nods to the Nerd.
"Done. I'll be on the roof...probably go for the Condor if things go ugly."

Sabosect hmphed and said, "I'm beginning to get suspicious. I want to know who's trying to geek the Johnson. But, we'll need one alive for that. When the shooting starts, I plan on having a pet take on one of them. When it comes time to have some fun, I'll be ready."

Sabosect checks his gun, making sure the safety is off, and remembers the other times they had gone on missions. He respected their combat sense and was going to hold off like asked. And his earlier thoughts, kept secret, about geeking the Johnson were buried beneath his professionalism. He closed his eyes and began to lightly chant the mantra of his totem, taught to him all those years ago, to prepare himself for the efforts to come.

"I am the Coyote, a Trickster and a Wise Man. My word is my honor, my word is my law, and my rules are the game. All who stand before my are decieved, and all who stand beside me are protected," Sabosect said.

Then, he opened his eyes and smiled. The Old Man was ready.

Frag chuckled to himself.

"I'll stay back 'ere. Mebbe stand right at the doorway for when the fraggers show der faces."

As you all enter the outside area, you see Jones sitting on the sidewalk, sipping his coffee, and one of the trolls is sitting in a chair at the other side. The last one seems to be gone from sight. the bar itself has half of the area cleared, and the other half of the area is a bar as usual, as some of the regular patrons are sitting there drinking and having a grand 'ole time. There are about 8 guys in the other half of the area. 2 at one window, and one at the other, all heavily armed with rifles or assault rifles. There are 2 guys cleaning off their swords, and have SMGs slinged to their shoulders. 1 of the other people seems to meditating, and the last 2 dressed in just form fitting body armor with pouches for what look like throwing knives at their back, (and for those who can see well they're actually elves OOC: perception 10) are just stretching out here and there. At what looked like a side closet door seems to be a mini-armory with strong armaments, and lots of gel/rubber rounds.

There are two men on the roof, one looking in binoculars. the oher person armed with a nice rifle, and they seem to have heavier armaments at their side, including a Rocket.

After everyone settles in where they want to be, you could hear the drop of a pin. John Jones comes in over the radio saying, "ok team, my guys know the drill, however basic plan.... drive the group towards the bar, then unleash all hell and destroy these fraggers." Laughs come through the radios as the rest of his team respond. As soon as it gets to be about one minute until contact, Jones' voice can be heard, "One minute people, radio silence now."

The street goes quite again, as you hear the shuffle of shoes and clanking of boots on the pavement on their route to the bar. As 4 people comes into view, the men are wearing armor jackets and seemed all to have some type of larger weaponry on their back. The woman is wearing a suit, she has long blonde hair, and though her clothes aren't revealing, you can tell she is utterly gorgeous. She spots Jones and gets a big grin across her face. The crew follows her as they walk towards Jones.

For those close enough to hear, or have good hearing, she walks up alone and sits down. "Well, well John Jones, always treating a lady, eh? Well, it seems you had some chance to be forewarned about us. Increased your security recently? getting scared of someone? Heh... the great JJ, you know I made you. I can unmake you."

John Jones standing there with an expression of annoyance on his face. "Of all the people it had to be you huh? Or did you ask for this? Don't worry about me and my rep. I'm fine. In fact, I've gone beyond surpassed you. Or don't you think Mitsuhama would have come to me first? Now, you'll get my fair warning, then say what you have to say and run away." Then over the radio your hear One warning shot, take off silencers, in 3...2...1...fire Everyone that caught it fired in unison, near the visible crew making sure not to actually hit anything, The gunshots came as one big loud *BLAM* After seeing everyone jump, and the crew members readying their weapons. They start seeing some laser pointers aimed at their bodies, and their leaders.

"Point taken, I knew we weren't going to be taken on. But let me just tell you this. Yes, i was picked second to you, ut that doesn't mean that I'm not going to make sure that MCT and I are succeeding in this mission. I'm just letting you know, I will do whatever it takes to beat you to the punch. This time, it's personal. Watch your back Jones." The lady starts walking back to the crew, who begin to fan out looking like they're protecting her.

Sigmund gets a bead on the Condor, firing if it displays very unusual behavior.
(Take Aim actions until the stand-off's over)

The Nerd, having his SMG in burst mode, did not fire when everybody else did. He kept his weapon targeted at the largest of the bogeys, though, with the crosshairs 4 inches bellow where his bellybutton should be. He's never been trigger happy, but being prepared had never hurt. In fact, it had saved his skin, or someone else's, more than once.

But if this was not a Mexican Standoff, he'd never seen one...

"That's it? I summoned a fragging spirit for nothing? Well, I guess it's better than being underprepared. Rip, when we get back to the hideout, I'll have the spirit wash your van," Sabosect said.

Rip grinned at Sabosect's comment, but kep his attention on the Sensor feeds. He was in Captin's chair mode, juggling the feeds from the Condor, the Strato-nine, and the van.

Make sure you don't shoot my Condor by mistake he says over the radio. Mine's the Blue one

He keeps the Strato-nine hovering in the next alley over, waiting to see what happens.

"Well that was over the top." Raven says over the radio as she puts the AP back in it's holster.

Sigmund speaks into his.
"Is over the top. It isn't over yet, don't relax until it is."