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sept. 1. 2061

It's a cold rainy, day in pittsburgh, but when isn't it? at 11 AM



Wormwood:

Mason:

boo:

Stush:

"Havn't heard from you in a while, Thalia. For a moment I thought the rough and tumble life of a professional clubber might've been a bit too much for you." I reply. "So who is this bigwig, and how might this concern me? Am I going to be able to walk right in, or is this your little way of chaining me to your arm for another night?" I walk into the livingroom and use the remote to flip on the trid, switching to KSAF news. "As for getting together, god knows we have a lot of fun together, but Thalia, don't you remember? We're through." I place extra emphasis on the last word. Walking to the fridge and holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I drink orange juice straight from the carton while waiting for her reply, half-listening to the news broadcast.

Wormwood: "Bonjour Jacques. What the F$# are you calling me before noon for? Do you have any idea what time I got in this morning?"..."What was that? You got a job for me? Sounds good. It's been a while since my last run so I could use some cash. You got any info on the Johnson for me? Will the job be a solo like the last one or will I be working with some backup for a change?"

Boo: "Yes, yes... mmm, hmmm. Sure I can be there, kinda busy right now, I'll get back to you pronto." The large Troll quickly tackles the call with his transducer, not missing a beat with his task at hand. He releases the pressure bulb, and looks at his charge with a stern face. "Now, Mrs. Wilson, you haven't been taking your hyperprolol, have you? Your blood pressure is 200 over 80. That's awfully high, don't you think?" He listens and nods as she gives her meek replay. "Can't afford it? I see... well, we're going to have to put you back on a water pill, then." He scribbles out the prescription, then walks out with the lady. The seats surrounding the single doorway are crowded, and the Troll sees his partner, a Hispanic middle-aged woman, already doing examinations on the people in the lobby.

"Ah, Rita. I think I have some work to do. I'm glad you're here, mind covering the clinic for a while?"

"Well, my shift doesn't start for a couple of hours, but I thought you'd need the help, mi amigo." She smiles, and says something in Spanish to the child she was examining. "You'll be back later?"

"Of course. Mind if I take 'the company van'" He chuckles at the little joke.

"Sure thing, 'boss'" she says sarcastically as he ambles out the door, taking off his white coat and stethoscope.

He climbs into the modified Brumby and finishes the call to his fixer. "Alright, scan me. What's the job?"

Its nice comming home to a blinking trid. Its almost always good news, either work or girls, I wish...

Hitting the replay button I get Mr. Fixx's video message. Delete. I dont need to hear his long drawn out speels with less than relevant information.

Speed dial number 1: Fixer

"Hey Mr. Fixx! Whats the job?"

to everyone:

Well, details on the job are a bit sketchy, i was just given the meet info, and told to send the buy guy i know to primanti's, and so i called you. Be there by 5 pm. sorry i dont have more for you.

Womwood: "Merci, Jack. If you find out any info on the Johnson, I'd appreciate a call."
'Guess I better go check the place out ahead of time. With this little information it could be a setup,' he think to myself. Then he does the usual waking up things and he heads out the door on his way to Primanti's.

Wormwood:

As you leave your modest apartment house and begin walking towards the river, you are reminded tot he fact that you live on the northside of Pittsburgh. Crossing into the relatively safe Allegheny square, you hear gunshots behind you, to see two realtively cute hispanic girls around a can with a fire in it... shot dead by a car now racing down the street, towards you. the car goes squealling across three lanes of traffic, and speeding down the forth lane, the wrong direction towards 7th street, on the one way only allegheny commons.

you on the other hand take the realtively safer shortcut through the commons where the best of the best of the northside live (realtive, ofcourse) Coming out on the otherside through a deserted mall. You quickly find yourself passing the ancient PNC park and Heinz field down the road, and crossing the 6th street bridge across the Allegheny. a few more blocks down the street and you find yourself in market square, with all of its... unique smells.Primanti's is on the far side of the square, which you Jostle around people to get too. You immediately see two doors leading into the building, as well as five tables on the outside sporting "Iron City" and "rolling Rock" beach umbralla's.

"Always a stickler for detail as usual, Thalia." Mason replies sarcastically. "If you're not busy, I'll be grabbing lunch at Thai Pavilion around noon. It's been a long time since we've actually done anything together, but maybe we could grab some lunch." he adds cautiously. "To talk about who you've been talking to."

After getting off the phone, Mason takes care of his morning routine and heads out.

Boo: At the designated time for the meet, the tired but well-dressed troll drives the decorated Brumby over to Primanti's. He's been there before, for many occasions (work-related and otherwise). Unsure of whether or not the restaurant is open, he heads to the front door, walking casually.

"Common Fixx, you know I like meets a bit later in the evening. The whole thing sounds like a set up to me. I guess I will check it out, though. Hate to turn down cash, but tell Johnson not to try any funny business-or I'll bop him with The Magic Stick," screen goes blank.

Sounds sketchy, but dont all meets. I would be more suspicious if it wasn't. Better get some sleep anyhow, it's going to be a long night.

ooc: everyone, i applogize for cutting some of the pre meet stuff short but i feel i let this sit long enough and want to get it moving.

Mason:



4:45 PM
Everyone



Right at a quarter til 5, 3 vehicles pull up infront of Primanti's, 2 Bulldog security vans, and one limo in between the Bulldogs. First, 3, trolls, 2 orks and a lone human get out of the Bulldogs al wearing fine suits. The orks walk towards one of the doors each, and the trolls go inside, while the human goes and opesn up to the door to the limo. Stepping out of the limo is an elderly gentleman. They quickly survey the scene around them, and walk into Primanti's.

After a brief moment, the younger human walks outside carrying, and stands by the main entrance, observing the square, as if he's looking for something or someone. as he scans the crowd and notices each one of you, he looks in the folder, and looks back up at you, and nodding at you...

Mason shoots a nod back at the younger man, and approaches, greeting him with imitated familiarity.
"Good to see you. The name's Riley." Mason attempts to shake the man's hand, reaching forward and continuing, "I apolagize if I'm unsure who I'm supposed to be meeting here. Would my business be with you, or your associate?"
Mason punctuates his sentence with a million-nuyen smile.

Wormwood raises his head briefly in acknowledgement of the young man. He weaves his way through the crowd toward him, keeping an eye out for others doing the same.

'Hmm...it looks like somebody else it heading to talk to him,' Wormwood thinks as he spots a well dressed human breaking from the crowd and moving to speak to the young man.

When Wormwood reaches the young man, he bows slightly and says "Monsieur Johnson is expecting me."

Mason:




Wormwood

After watching his two colleagues pass the younger man, Hooter follows them. He attempts to walk past the younger human, without acknowledging him other than an orkish grunt. When he is stopped, he simply replies, "Im wit dem!"

hooter:

"well, if you're with THEM, who ARE they? hmmm?" The young man replies coyly.

Grunt, grunt. "Errr...you should know, ya hired dem!" Hooter continues on past the man, unless physical restraint is attempted.

Hooter:

The man chuckles to himself. "No matter if you know who they are, what is important is that we know who you are, go on in, have whatever you'd like."

The ork grunts again, "Damned right I will have what me want, who gonna stop me?", he mutters as he follows his comrades in.

His speach is deep and slow, but it picks up with excitement as he closes in on his chummers. "Hey guys, whatta dey got dat wont make me sick!? Ewww! is that soy?!" His voice is loud and booming now, "Soy sucks donkey di...oh," his voice trails off again. "Hello Mista Johnson."

The old man speaks. "well, i'm glad the three of you could make it. there was supposed to be a fourth, but i guess he decided my work was beneath him, but no matters. I am sorry so little information was available to all of your fixers, but that was the way it had to be, i dont normally get involved in these sorts of works, but alas it is nescesary. I have been informed that my primary rival is designing a prototype, that if successful, will allow his comany to mass produce at no cost our product..." He continues as he fiddles with a katsup bottle "needless to say this would be disasterious to our company, despite our having the industry lead for over a century and a half now. "i would like you to retreive the plans for this device, and any parts that they have already built. If it is finished, and too large to carry as I'm sure something like this would be, destroy it by any means needed. If there are no other questions for me, my son, John the second will give you the details you'll need."

"Ahhh..?," Hooter questions, raising his hand to get everyone's attention. "Mista Johnson? I know me only a little ork, but there is four of us," he points at each of his teamates as he calls out their name. "One, Wormwood, two, Mason, tree, Boo, and four....wait, who is four?," looking around confused, "...oh yeah dat me, Hooter, hehehehe," his laugh is slow, deep and retarded.

"I must inform you, Mr. Johnson, that Hooter is correct." Mason jumps in. "I am no middleman or negotiator, I am part of the team and will be taking part in the run, so that makes four." Mason looks around the table and continues. "Now if we are to aquire said plans for you, we will need to know who's party we will be crashing, and we'll need to know where this party is. Also, it is of particular interest to us who may already be in attendance." Mason pauses, "Security-wise I must clarify." Motioning to the others with a gentle wave, "Also, as I am sure my collegues are wondering, what may be the pay for this helpful deed?"

With a simple gesture of his hand, Wormwood silently offers to help the old man with opening the katsup bottle since he seemed to be having difficulties with it.
When the old man was finished talking, Wormwood says "Monsieur, as my colleagues have indicated, we do have some questions about the job. But as your son is here, I find I have only one question to direct to yourself. Once it is answered, we will leave you to enjoy your meal in peace."
"Does your son have your confedence and authority in all matters of this run?" asks Wormwood. "If not, I would ask that negotiation of our fee be handled first."

Boo: The troll shifts uncomfortably in his chair, seemingly distracted. He looks at the old man and says, "You know what I'm good at. I'm looking for information about their computers, and what would be necessary for me to help." He seems to have posed the question in a way that it addresses the whole group rather than just the old man. The troll smiles a toothy grin, as he gauges the reactions of the other teammates.

Wormwood is a little surprised to hear that the troll is a decker, since trolls aren't known for their skill with technology. He tries not to let this show on his face though.

"Hmmm, while i'll let my son deal with the who's and whats, i am willing to pay each of you 10, 000 nuyen. From what our insider tells us, if you play your cards right, this should be a rather easy project to successfully complete, and i think that that sum should be more than adequate. Now, my son will share everything else that we know.and yes, he does have my confidance, and more patience than I, if you feel the pay is unsufficient, i'll let him deal with it." With those final words, the old man stands up and goes outside with one of the trolls.

as the old man exits, one of the bartenders produces a briefcase for the younger man. "Alright now, as for what we know. The Target is the Hunts corporation, research division here in Pittsburgh, on 7th ave. Security should be fairly light, if you strike at the right time. We know they have two door guards outside, all day, until about 7 pm, what the rest of the shifts are like, we havent been able to find out. As for their grid, it's all internalized, but we have reason to suspect that the most upto date plans for the devices might only be online.Anything else that you feel i havent covered."

Wormwood stands as a sign of respect when the old man gets up and leaves. He then sits back downn and faces the son.

"That doesn't seem like much information. What can you tell us about the building itself? Are there other entrances besides the front door? If so, how many and where? How large is the building? Do you know how many daytime employees they have working there? Is there more security inside during the day? Is the company known to use automated defenses and/or paracritters for security?"

"Also, your father mentioned that if we could not carry it out we should destroy it using any means necessary. To me that implies a messy run. Is that what you are looking for? Or would you prefer us to do this quietly? Furthermore, can you tell us if the completed item might be easily destroyed or are we going to need to stock up on high explosives for it?"

"Would there be any kind of bonus it for us to lift/destroy other projects that might be worked on at this facility? I would imagine that any damage we do to them would be beneficial to you as their rival."

"And one last question, what kind of time frame do we have for this?"

The building is a conglomerate, hunts uses the top level as housing, two levels beneath that as a research facility, and the floor below them as their... face department, only that floor is open to the public during the day. Although the exact number of employees working there is unknown, we've heard reports of there being atleast 5 teams of scientists working on this project at various points. On the first level of their building, i would doubt automated defenses are being used, but we can not say for certain within the research levels."

He pauses a moment, to think. "For other projects, i would doubt that you would find anything. It's been, in the past, a very specialized work area, and really, aside from this project, the company poses no real threat, our productsall 57 varieties of them. are in almost all major restaurants, and most homes around the UCAS. I suppose the most valuable things to us might be blueprints or other communications about future products."

"Finally, the timeframe is rather open. We do not beleive that the project is that close to completation, so as long as you manage to complete the job before it gets shipped to alabama where the production facility is, you should be fine."

"Merci, that answers all of my questions." Wormwood turns and looks a each of his colleagues, "Do any of you have anything further, mes ami?"

Boo: "Is their security in-house or subcontracted? Or is that something that we're going to have to find out through our own legwork?"

"I tink Mista Johnson is mad at da rival company, cause Hunts makes easy open caps, and his Hienz 57, the caps always crusted wit ol ketsoup an then it dont come outta da bottle. Ya have to hit da bottom and shake it, and stir it wit your knife, an everyone hasta ask the big guys to help dem out."

"I have something as well, actually." Mason calmly states. "You said the bottom floor, this "face department" is open to the public during the day. Could you give us a little more detail into this matter? Such that I may have a reason to snoop around. While I doubt they give guided tours of their facility, it would be nice to have a reason to go in and speak to a few employees. What do they do on the bottom floor?"

"Mason. Maybe it like da Jelly Belly Factory and they do give guided tours," his deep voice filled with excitement. Whether it is from excitement of helping the group in the recon, or actually going on a tour, you dont know. "This one time we went on dis tour of da Jelly Belly, an we gotta see how da candy was made, an we gotta eat all da candies. Yeah dat was fun."

To Hooter: "That's pretty cool, why don't you tell me about it after we're done here, ok?" Mason tries to hide the fact that he's just trying to get Hooter to stop talking about Jelly Bellies in front of the Johnson, but wonders aloud at the Johnson: "This is a huge shot in the dark, but do they give guided tours?"

Wormwood shakes his head at Hooter's lack of professionalism. 'I hope he's not like this on the actual run,' he thinks to himself.

"heh, well, as i said, this is a research facility, i think that'd make the job a bit too easy, dontcha too? Now as far as the first floor goes, there isnt much that goes on, there, accounting, scheduling, all that sort of clerical work, so i doubt you'll find much resistance on that floor."

Wormwood asks, "So when will payment be rendered and how do we contact you once the job is complete?"

" here is my number, oyu can call me when you are done. And payment will be in packets of heing katsup, ofcourse." He, and the trolls laugh heartily, somehow amused. "no, no, i'm just joking with ya chum, each of you will receive a certified Credstick".

" finally," he pauses, as if remembering something "I'm not honestly sure what sort of security mix they have. I think it would be a safe assumption that they are likely in house, at the minimum;response times should be swift, to say the least. rumors have long abound that the Hunt's have an elite personal guard as well, hopefully, they wont come into play, as the family does not live on gorunds themselves, naturally."

"If there's nothing further..."Wormwood looks around the table at his colleagues before continuing. "I suggest we get to work."

"Agreed."

"...but Im still eating," Hooter protests.

Wormwood looks a little disgusted at Hooter and then turns and smiles to the young man. "Looks like we are on job. We will keep in touch and contact you as soon as we have everything."

Wormwood offers his hand to the young man and they shake on the deal. He then gets up as if to leave, checking to see if the others are doing the same.

Mason quietly stands up, adjusting his tie in the proccess. "Let's roll." With that, Mason turns and walks to the entrance, stopping outside to wait for his teammates.

Boo: The troll shuffles out of the tiny (to him) chair and heads out the front door, taking his calzone with him carefully wrapped in plastic. Casually glancing around, while standing out of the restaurant, he speaks to no one in particular. "Where do you want to go?"

Hooter follows Boos lead, carrying his doggy bag out with him.

Mason looks over the others as they leave Primanti's and speaks up. "So how do we want to go about this? I had thought that one of us could case the place tomorrow and when some of the employees go out for lunch, I could accidentally bump into them over lunch." Mason cracks a smile, "One thing leads to another, we start to talk about our jobs, get a little inside info, and then we go on our ways?" Mason punctuates the sentence lightly, addressing the team as a whole, "Unless you had something else in mind?"

"If they have a tour we could get a good interior view of da place, plus free samples."

Mason shakes his head despondantly, "Free samples? he begins sarcastically, "So what are we supposed to bring our own hotdogs or something?"