14:19:13 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

Fragging kids these days, don't know the value of a dollar...nuyen, whatever.

"300." Joslyn counters "And that's me being soft coz you remind me of someone I used to know." Joslyn lets a smile play across his face as he remembers the pig farm that his father used to keep outside the hotel. "Hell, you get me in a good mood and I might feel like spending some money in your fine establishment too."

Joslyn casually surveys the goods in the store as the shopkeep decides, a mildly dented trumpet catching his eye for a moment before he turns back to the fat man expectantly.

15:15:23 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

The machine revealed is at least thirty years old, well-cared for but dusty and worn. The dwarf makes a great show of tidying up the numerous wires snaking across the back of the machine before turning it to face Remy. The first thing he realizes is that the brand name etched into the metal cover is for a corporation that's no longer even in existence. The second is that he has no idea what, exactly he's looking at.

"This is a piece of history, my friend," confides the dwarf. "You won't find any of them around anymore. It was a limited run by Novatech, state of the art when they were first produced. This is one of the first ever simsense recording decks!"

14:21:46 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

The man drops the mag on the counter again, clear avarice in his eyes. "All right, I suppose I can settle for three hundred."

He holds out his palm.

"No money until I know what you've got," says Joslyn.

"Cash first or no deal," replies the shop keeper, reaching for his mag.

15:17:37 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Reaching out slowly to run a light hand over the smooth anodised alloy of the outer casing, Remy gives a low whistle as he draws breath over his tusks in the time honoured tradition of any workmen of any technical devotion around the world.
Shaking his head gently, he looks at his hand, held low above the counter and rubs finger against thumb sloughing off flecks of alloy gained by just the softest of touches on the ancient machine. the specks glisten like tiny gossamer winged bugs in the harsh light of the store lamps as he lets them flutter to the floor.

"Does it works 'den?" He enquires of the dwarven client and is instantly rewarded with another bout of bluster and red faced accusations of besmirching his honour in broadest daylight, as if someone of his heritage was beyond reproach and could be trusted as far as he could be thrown.

Remy steps back holding his hands up in mock surrender at the outburst, turning around he grabs a ring binder from the shelves sagging under the weight of many similar tomes, opening it on the counter he flicks through old volumes of "Decks & Dreams" Magazine looking for sales advertisements that scream in neon colours about each product of the time and how it offers one hundred and twenty percent improvement over last months tech!

Eventually and after re-attaching some of the aging sheets of real paper back into the magazines with sticky tape, he finds what he's looking for

The advert is blindingly atrocious and shows its heritage in a time forgotten age, but it lists a price in NuYen for an original in pristine condition which this seems to be.
The wires and cables streaming from the top and rear all seem to be in decent repair or at least easily replaceable for someone able to find non-fiberoptic wiring these days.
Opening the back, Remy finds the storage mechanism to be free from "DCD" Dirt, Corrosion, Damage, the chip slots themselves are an older form, larger and more vulgar in their manufacture but there are still places to get converters and adapters so that's not a concern either.

The Dwarf hops impatiently from foot to foot on the raised platform, occasionally almost losing balance as he tries to keep his interest in an item to his right or while staring directly into the gaping maw of the PAC over their heads.
"Well? What's it ta be Chummer? I ain't got all day here ya know!" He eventually breaks and Remy knows he's got him where he wants him now, the guy isn't going to just wrap it all back up and trudge back through the awful weather conditions with it to his car to go and try another place that doesn't cater to the same kind of 'ware as Danny's place does.

"okay Sir, it seems in good condition but there's just not much call for these fings no more, Soooo, I gives you fifty for it, cash or creds"
he crosses his arms in a That's my final offer stance and continues examining the machine as if looking for defects to bring the price down some more.

15:18:08 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

The dwarf is outraged at Remy's offer, his face red and the prominent vein at his temple throbs.

"FIFTY NUYEN?! Don't insult me, boy! This is a museum quality piece! History, right here in front of you! There are collectors worldwide who would be falling over each other to own this! I won't accept anything less than five thousand!"

He glares at Remy, who bites back the snarling retort he's prepared and employs one of his uncle's most powerful weapons: The Stare^TM. The dwarf glares holding Remy's gaze for as long as he can until the reality of his position sinks in. He grumbles to himself, trying to find some way to maintain the high ground and failing.

"Fine," he snarls at last. "A thousand and it's yours."

15:18:08 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

"A Fousand ? you finks I just woke up from cryostasis and fink it's da year two fousand again ? " He exclaims in another practice show of utter shock and horror ™ Uncle Danny be so prouds, I keeps practisin' dat one
"... sheesh... any collectors wanting 'dis are falling over cuz dey got broken hips Chummer.."
Remy comes back at him in the passive aggressive mode that his Uncle has tried to teach him.

"museum piece is about right too... " He takes a breath and glancing around as if being overheard, gives the customer a conspiratorial nod of the head, beckoning him closer to whisper
"last offer, or I has to disturb da boss ! .... two hundred fidty .. " He glances fearfully over his shoulder into the rear office as if invoking the name of some great evil slumbering there..

15:18:55 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

"Unacceptable! I will accept nothing less than five hundred for this prized piece of machinery!" The dwarf folds his arms over his chest resolutely.

15:19:05 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

"Okay DEAL, and I's cuttin' me own froat here...!"
Remy tries to hold back the excitement at his purchase, which suddenly becomes a much easier task, as he considers that Danny might not be so pleased at the sudden expenditure.

"So, if yous fills in dis paper work here and signs in black ink in triplicate, I gets yous da bill of sale and we is done, easy"
with the papers signed the dwarf almost gleefully hops off the step counting his cash on the way down with a great grin on his face ...
Wots dat all about I wonder? Remy's eyebrows knit together in a momentary contemplation
but it passes like a cloud across the sun and he retrieves the deck to lug it back to his workbench, trying to look casual and not alert his Uncle to anything untoward.

Setting it down gently he returns to his seat and pushes Mrs. Akiras VCR out of the way and begins preliminary checks on the deck, all seems in order and the trodes don't seem to have industrial adhesive on them, thirty years possibly dulled the sticky-ness. Remy lets himself be absorbed into his new and exciting task, so much so he doesn't even take his usual afternoon snack from the refridgerator.

14:21:46 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

This surly fragger needs to learn to respect his elders

"Oh?" Joslyn feigns surprise with a grin "You don't want the money then?"

He turns and takes a few steps towards the door before stopping to inspect a row of electronics, he spends a few seconds looking at them before turning his head slightly, back towards the counter.

"I have other leads to follow up," he seems to ponder this for a moment before continuing, smile still on his face "Of course, if they don't pan out, I'll be back."

His characteristic joviality instantly drops from his expression, replaced with a menacing glare

"And my next visit will be a lot less pleasant." he growls the last sentence and starts walking for the door.

14:41:37 Monday, 08 January 2063 - 24/7 Pawn Star, 3035 W 140th St, Renton, Seattle

"I hear you talking, street grease!" snarled the shop keeper. He seemed disinclined to stop Joslyn from exiting, which made the slim security specialist think that the shop keeper had no information to sell in the first place. Angry and frustrated, he stomped back to the Spiral. Keying the ignition, he spun the wheel and hurled the vehicle down the block at a speed twice what was sane for the road conditions. After a couple of blocks he dialed it back a bit before spotting an Astrobucks. Pulling into the parking lot, he took a moment to steady his breathing before heading inside. A venti mocha was just what he needed right now. With two shots of espresso.

Ensconced at a corner table with his drink, Joslyn stared at the drifting snow outside, running down a mental checklist of what he knew and what he'd found out. It was disturbingly short, although to be fair he hadn't been given a lot to work with in the first place. He had one more store to check out, and if that didn't pan out he'd be out of luck. At least as far as the legwork went. If he ran this to ground without a hit, he'd have to bring Andy into the mix, get him to start hacking security cameras around the stores to see if he could catch a glimpse of his erstwhile Mafia soldato.

One more stop to make.

Joslyn eyed the snow outside before pausing to take another sip from his cup. He decided that the bitter cold could wait ten minutes for him to finish his coffee.

00:19:53 Monday 08 January 2063 – Outside 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The drive to the other side of Renton had been rather uneventful. Along the way Mac could see the lights blazing over the Knight Errant Training Facility which seemed to be full of activity 24-7. Pulling her longcoat tighter around her, the one piece of clothing she had on that was actually hers, she quickly did an inventory of the zippered pockets. Grateful, she pulled a pack of both Haukodo Clove Cigarettes as well as Simple Panda Mega Cherry! Bubblegum. Deciding she shouldn’t light up in the back of David’s pristine and spotless Towncar she settled for unwrapping a piece of gum.

Chewing caused her stinging pain and yet calmed her at the same time. She sat staring out the window silently as the city flashed by outside.

As David pulled to a smooth stop in front of the address she had given him, nerves tingled in the pit of her stomach, making her on edge as she stepped out into the street. Taking her things with her as she made her way to what she believed to be the front door. As she took in the neighborhood around her she looked around for a camera security system, and intercom or a bell so that she could announce her arrival.

”Please be here. You have to be here, you just have to.” She frowned softly, her disappointment growing as she waited for someone to answer the door. ”Damnit Kovacs open your fraggin’ door!”

Patiently David remained with the Towncar idling in front of the building.

00:21:04 Monday 08 January 2063 – Outside 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

It was a long, cold two minutes she waited before she heard the bolts click back on the door's maglock. The panel swung open, revealing a hall that was cast in the same shadows as the wintery street outside. Only the pale sodium orange light from the corner streetlight reveals anything, and even that is just half of Kovacs' face.

He's wearing a pair of sweatpants and a black muscle t-shirt with a gym logo silkscreened on. His chin is dusted with stubble and his dark hair is mussed. Mac feels the floor drop out from beneath her as she realizes that it's after midnight on what's probably a work night, and that she has most likely woken her rescuer from much needed sleep before he starts his week. Behind her, she hears the town car accelerate into the night, ruining any possibility of a retreat from this point.

"I've been expecting you," says Kovacs, "come in."

Standing aside, he lets Mac slip past him into the foyer of the house, closing and locking the door behind her. To her right is a small living room, with a couch and recliner in front of a pricey trideo unit. In front of her and to the right is the dining room that she can see also adjoins the kitchen, most of which is hidden behind the hall that leads off to her left, down which she assumes are the bedrooms and bathroom. She shifts awkwardly, unsure as to what to do or say.

Kovacs walks past her, through the dining room and into the kitchen. After a moment she hears water running, then what sounds like a pot being placed on the stove.

00:23:12 Monday 08 January 2063 – Inside 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

”Expecting me hmm… Lovely.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment in thought as she peered into the kitchen following Kovacs’ until he turned the corner out of her sight. She continued to keep her guard up, Linda’s words still ringing in her ears, her “warning” of sorts about the man that saved her life. She walked almost sliently forward and leaned as casually as she could against the doorframe to the kitchen trying to avoid pressure on the worst of her bruises. She raised a brow as she studied the back of the man in front of the stove.

“Coffee?” She said a little too eagerly. "And what do you mean, 'expecting me'?"

00:31:49 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"Tea," replies Kovacs, reaching up to the cupboard next to the stove to retrieve a pair of plain ceramic mugs. The infusers hide in the drawer by the sink. He packs them with loose leaves from a clear glass container before letting them rest in the mugs to wait for the water. In the clearer light of the kitchen, Mac realises that he's armed. The butt of a heavy pistol rides just behind his right hip. His right arm is a synthetic replacement, a dark matte gray limb that makes no effort to pass as organic.

"Linda called earlier, asking if she could give you my address. There were only two reasons why you could be asking for it."

He glances back over his shoulder at her, looking at her for the first time since she walked into his house. Mac took in the look and the weapon on his hip and began to rearrange a few of her assumptions about this man called Kovacs. He was in that strange age that men arrive at, sometime after thirty five and sometime before fifty, when one year blends into another. She guessed somewhere mid-forties, but it was impossible to tell. His dark hair was sprinkled with gray, as was the dusting of whiskers across his cheeks and chin. He still carried the dense muscles of an active youth, but a layer of fat had robbed him of what had probably been impressive definition.

The whistle of the teapot interrupted anything she might have said. Kovacs turned off the burner, filling each mug in turn. He carried both to the table, setting one down close to her while he slid into the end seat. Steam from the mug curls around his hands as he tents them in front of him.

"Coffee always gave me an upset stomach," he says quietly. "Tea helps me sleep."

00:34:41 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

”I could think of more than two reasons I would have come over…”

It was obvious that the way her mind processed things and the darker of her thoughts hadn’t been damaged by her near-death experience. She wrapped her hands around the mug he set before her and reveled in the warmth that her cold hands leeched from its ceramic surface.

”Tea hmm… I would have had you pegged for a whiskey guy after Midnight.”

“I hope you’re not upset with Linda for giving me your information? I just felt like I needed to see you… to thank you for what you did… you know, in person.” She stifled a bit of a laugh at herself, for the soreness of her throat where Platt had held and choked her, made her words come out with more huskiness to her voice and much more entendre then intended.

15:42:50 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

One last mouthful in the cup, Joslyn took it away from his lips and set it back down on the table, prolonging the moment of warmth as long as he could.

Taking his hands off the coffee, he picked up his commlink, idly flicking through his stored documents as he surreptitiously watched the other patrons, there were plenty of corp boys in the place. A moment of silent listening told Joslyn all he needed to know about them...the next promotion, the big account...it all sounded so childish these days, he'd lived the corp life once and he knew where it led for the small fish. He mentally aged the three (he guessed) middle management boys chatting on the table across from him; he saw them bent and broken, finally ripped from the corporate teat once their usefulness had come to an end, and left to fend for themselves with no skills, no support and no hope...he smiled again, the anger finally seeping out of him.

He felt a twinge of guilt for the pleasure he got from these thoughts, as he finally finished off his soycaf, but quickly dismissed the ill feeling by refocussing on his objective.

One more to go, fifth time lucky perhaps.

Standing up and pulling his coat back around him, Joslyn hurried back to his car, cursing the winter for the hundredth time today before starting the engine and heading to the final dot he'd programmed onto the Spiral's dashboard.



Parking up around the corner from the shop, Joslyn loaded the doctored picture Andy had sent him onto the commlink's screen and took a moment to get into character.

Missing friend, worried wife

Feeling prepared, he stepped out of the car into the biting wind, pulling his coat tight around him, he swore under his breath as he hurried down the street and burst into the shop, quickly shutting the door behind him.

"Hoi Chummer," he said to no-one inparticular as he took a moment to glance around the store, then changed his focus to his tingling hands, vigorously rubbing them together, he continued without looking up "I was hoping you could help me out."

00:36:15 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"No, of course not. I was the one who told her she could pass the information on to you."

Kovacs paused to sip from his tea, finally looking at Mac straight for the first time. She can tell that his eyes are synthetic as well, the pale gray irises opaque to her questing gaze. He takes another sip of tea.

"You're welcome," he says, at last. "I'm glad to see that you're up and about. A little worse for wear, apparently, but clearly a survivor."

His eyes travel the room, less restlessness and more a constant surveillance, a constant awareness. Even now, at this relaxed moment, Mac can feel an energy to him, a readiness in his body language that speaks to action held just in check. His gaze finds her again, this time with a more physical presence. She can see a sliver of emotion through the armor shielding his soul.

"It's late. Do you have a place for the night?" he asks, his posture and his tone perfectly casual.

00:38:42 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac instantly nodded in response to the question out of habit before the realization hit her.

"Oh shit."

David was long gone with the Towncar, her bike was likely racking up fees with the Valet boys who knew her in the lot over by Shatter, she didn't have the cred to spare to call a cab and there was seriously no fraggin' way in hell she'd be calling Wayne for help out of this mess.

"No. Actually I don't, nothing easily accessible tonight at least." She couldn't help herself. She could feel this energy pulsing under the silence of the room, something about the vibe Kovacs was giving off as she tried to figure him out mixed with her own messed up head, wants and desires along with gratitude and suddenly she really didn't want to leave.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but can I crash on your couch? I'll be out of your hair after the sun comes up, promise."

00:45:17 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs tilts his head minutely, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. "Sure, I don't mind the company. Not sure you're going to be able to leave tomorrow, though. The weather report tonight wasn't promising. We're supposed to get several centimeters overnight."

He sipped from his tea, nearly finished with the mug.

"I really don't want to impose," started Mac, working her way through the maze of feelings in her head. The pain from her injuries was resurfacing as well, fighting through the blanket of adrenaline that grew thinner with each passing minute.

Kovacs shook his head once and finished his tea. Again the smile turned the corners of his mouth up, a mouth that had nicely full lips she noticed. Mac knew what he was saying, that it would be inhuman if he left her, literally, out in the cold. She was unused to generosity, though, in the past there had always been a price to pay for a warm bed to sleep in and a roof over her head. Something about Kovacs made her hesitant to use the one currency she always had. He was different than just about any other man she'd met before. In the end, she simply drank her tea, waiting for him.

After a minute he stands and drops his mug into the kitchen sink before disappearing down the hallway. Mac can hear a closet opening and the sounds of him rummaging through something for a bit. He returns with an armful of bedding, pillow, and a sleeping bag. Unrolling the sleeping bag on the couch, he unzips it before settling a sheet inside, then a thin blanket over the sheet. Fluffing the pillow, he tucks it beneath the blanket.

"The bag's Arc'teryx, rated to minus five cee. It'll keep you warm enough but might be too much for inside, so you've got the blanket. Bathroom's down the hall, first door on the right. Towels are on the shelf above the toilet, you can use whatever you want except my toothbrush. Turn the kitchen light out before you go to sleep."

Turning, he heads down the hallway. Mac stands as quickly as her bruised muscles will let her, making it to the hall as he reaches the bedroom.

"Kovacs?" she called. He turned to look at her, his face unreadable, his body masked in shadows.

"Thanks."

He inclines his head, a gesture of elegant simplicity. "Sleep well."

He disappears into the bedroom, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving Mac alone in the silent house.

15:43:15 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

This must be da busiest drekkin' day I've seen in this place! Remy muses as the door buzzer sounds and sets items on shelves around the shop to rattling and vibrating, for the seventh time today he is forced to extract himself from his current work after first looking at his uncle for confirmation that it's Your turn Kid!.

Nearby, Danny is head down, deep in a frantic conversation with someone on a call, the subvocal microphone is of little use, his emotions escape him and certain words or phrases are spat out at the recipient, Remy knows better than to intrude or try his luck in getting him to answer any customers approaching right now, so begins disengaging with the ancient tech that he is so engrossed in.

He gingerly extratcs his hands, now covered in small sticking plasters to stem the crimson tide of his injuries and keep the blood from staining the entirety of the innards of the VCR he is still working on,

he imagines it like a game of Auto-Doc 2070™ where you try to avoid killing your patient as you rip vital organs from the patients still warm body,
the VR version out now rated certificate 21. the decision to not buy it now firmly cemented in his mind by the accidental passing of another 'hot' capacitor, the *snap* of electric discharge into his flesh sends a puff of smoke into the room, smelling of ozone and rib-eye steak,

the injured digit quickly posited into his mouth for natural medical attention. He decides there and then that the next piece of 'ware he will get is going to be pain editors!

Stepping into the shop area he retracts the stinging appendage and gives the new customer a cheery "Hoi, yourself!... welcome to Danny's Pawn and Loan"

while eyeing up the guy before him and making as many snap judgements as he can to guage the level to set his sales pitch,
Not the usual type dis one! dressed nice, making eye contact, not trying to hide, not looking over his shoulder every two seconds or fiddling uncomfortably with a package ... let's go for .... late birfday present for his mistress, doesn't want da wife to knows ... easy target for da fake jewels Danny keeps under da till

"I got's dese just in this weeks for a gent likes yourself sir," He drawls trying to affect a posh Bellevue accent over his Orkish accent over his normal voice, not particularly effectively.
He reaches into the glass container and pulls out a small tray of diamonte ear-rings and matching necklaces, setting them on the counter top.

01:03:52 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

She was conflicted on so many levels. Half of her wanted to grab her things and make a run for it, convinced through her nineteen years of experience that there would be one hell of a check to pay for all of Kovacs' help and generosity. The other half was curious and that's the piece that got the better of her as she tip toed around the silent home, trying to get inside this man's head and figure out what 'made him tick' so to speak.

"Daddy issues, isn't that what the pseudo-shrink called them?" she mused as she poked around the living room, taking in her surroundings and looking for any clues as to just who this man really was, or who he used to be at least. That much she had picked up on, what he was and what he had become were two separate things.

After a while she realized she'd have to give up on her search for answers as there wasn't much more of the house she could explore without risking waking Kovacs. She stepped into the bathroom and got herself ready for bed. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she looked about the small room for toiletries and towels and her eyes landed on his toothbrush. The one thing she couldn't use. She kept her defiant streak in check as she gently washed her face.

Stepping back into the living room she made her way back to the couch and crawled on top of the sleeping bag and under the blankets. She was quickly wrapped in warmth which was so very welcome as well as the lingering scent of "man" that she actually found comforting instead of repulsive for a change. It wasn't long before she was drifting back off to sleep.

01:24:14 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac stared at the ceiling, feeling sleep stealing over her, but still wrestling with what she'd found. Kovacs remained an enigma, a study in contrasts based on her snooping. On top of the coffee table was an expensive art book, a real book to boot, not one full of digital paper pages. The most marked page was a spread on a painting called The Night Watch by somebody called Rembrandt van Rijn. Mac guessed it was his favorite since he also had a large reproduction of it hanging on the dining room table wall. The rest of the artwork around the living room were prints of Japanese drawings depicting landscapes or samurai in action.

The solitary shelf in the living room also held a host of books, although these were all academic treatises. Economics, mechanical engineering, probability and statistics, ballistics, metallurgy, and industrial design were all well represented by at least one thick book. Mac shook her head, either Kovacs was showing off or he was one of those seven kilo braniacs.

A few nicknacks cluttered the shelf, a novelty bottle opener from somewhere, two carved obsidian figurines, a small dagger with what looked like a bone handle. A framed picture sat in the corner of the shelf, covered with a thin film of dust. It was a mostly in focus shot of a group of young men, eight in all, wearing a motley assortment of shorts and multi-colored hawaiian shirts standing on a beach somewhere. The men are all fit and muscled, their hair uniformly short.

Mounted beneath the shelf, out of sight of casual prying eyes, is a flashpak and an Ares Predator IV. The weapon is well taken care of, oiled and ready, with a full clip and a round in the chamber. Mac carefully wiped her fingerprints off it and slid it back into the kydex holster it lived in.

The kitchen was more than she expected as well, having pegged him initially for a bachelor used to eating out or getting delivery. But there is a healthy collection of cooking utensils, and the refrigerator is mostly stocked. A flatscreen display unit, well spattered with grease, opens up to a cook book when she powers it on, and she smiles at the annotations he's made in the margins that translate the cooking directions into something useful he can follow. Apparently the lemon caper sauce for the whitefish he tried recently did not turn out as planned.

She found an HK227 SMG stashed in the cupboard next to the stove as well, slid into a bracket bolted against the wall. In the drawer next to the sink were a pair of grenades stenciled with ARES MK43A1 DPHE. Mac left those alone. In the back corner of the kitchen was a set of stairs leading down to the garage she assumed, as well as a door that opened to the backyard. Propped in the corner was an aluminum baseball bat.

Out of curiosity, coupled with growing suspicion, she checked underneath the dining room table where Kovacs sat to drink his tea. Slung from a bracket was a Defiance T-250 short barreled shotgun. She glanced around. Everywhere he might conceivably be during the day he had stationed a weapon within immediate reach. She wondered what he had in the bedroom. She wondered if he slept naked. She wondered how he handled himself in bed.

Mac scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head. Thoughts like that would not be conducive to sleep. Thoughts like that would most definitely get her in trouble. She rolled over and pillowed her head on her arm, staring at the open page of the artbook and the shadowed figures in the painting until sleep finally did claim her.

04:57:26 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The silence of Kovacs’ house had the exact opposite effect on Mac as most would expect. The quiet made it harder to sleep, every strange creak or squeak of the house was amplified against the lack of sound and it made her jumpy and continually woke her out of her listless sleep.

Unearthing herself from beneath the cocoon of blankets, sheets and sleeping bag she had nestled into when she was able to sleep, she tried to shake the lack of sleep out of her fuzzy head. Seeing the bathroom door was open, she figured it was time to take advantage of another hot shower.

In the sterile light of the bathroom Mac peered at herself in the mirror, the depths of her bruises across her face were showing their ugliness. Deep blue and purple fingers snaked their way along her jaw fading to angry green and yellow marks along the edges. She turned away, disgusted with the view and didn’t bother to take another inventory of the rest of her body. She wasn’t about to be working anytime soon. At least not without a ton of body makeup and an extra gentile client.

She found peace underneath the warm, almost scalding hot water for a good 20 minutes before she forced herself to turn it off and step out into the now steamy bathroom, grateful that the mirror was covered in condensation and her reflection wasn’t visible.

With no other options for clothing, she slipped back on the items Linda had so graciously provided her before stepping back out into the living room in her bare feet. She was still craving a cigarette like there was no tomorrow, but a quick glance towards the front hallway and the windows confirmed her suspicion that if she opened either of them, alarms would start screaming. She settled for her last piece of gum and padded her way into the kitchen. She was hungry, and since she was pretty sure Kovacs was ex-military, she didn’t expect him to stay in bed much beyond 5am.

She started to rummage through the kitchen, finding odds and ends in the fridge to throw together, finding enough ingredients to put together an egg-substitute scramble. There were at least a few things she could cook and luckily this was one of them. She alternated her jobs in the kitchen between prepping food, washing up the mugs from tea the night before, and starting a new pot of water on the stove. She felt it was the least she could do, to continue to say thanks.

”Either he’ll wake up on his own, or the smell of food will get him out of bed…”

A quick glance out the kitchen window showed that Kovacs had been right about the weather, a thin glossy sheet of ice glinted out from underneath a light blanket of snow as fat flakes continued to fall from the sky bathing the neighborhood in pristine white.

15:45:10 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Joslyn raises an eyebrow in mild confusion then lets out a short laugh.

"As...nice...as they look, I don't think they'd really go with this suit." he reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve his commlink

"What I'm after isn't on your shelves or under the counter." he pulls up the picture of himself and Sergio's enforcer "I need information and I'll be happy to compensate you for your time if you can help me out."

Showing Remy the picture, Joslyn continues with his prepared spiel

"My friend here went looking for some old electronics yesterday and he never came home. His commlink's ringing out and he's not been seen at any of his regular haunts." Joslyn sighs and shakes his head "Shirley...his wife...is going mad with worry and the Star say they can't help, so I'm doing what I can."

Joslyn takes a moment to let the information sink in, glancing around the shop as Remy looks at the picture with his brow furrowed, wondering how this sale went wrong so quickly.

"Do you remember if he came in here? And if he said anything unusual?"

15:46:03 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Remy groans inwardly, sliding the tray back into the display case. Another useless information request.

His annoyance dies, though, as he glances at the picture Joslyn is displaying. It's a picture of one of the five men that Xade inquired after earlier in the day. He takes a deep breath, controlling his reaction, and steals another glance at Joslyn, trying to further analyze the stranger.

The buzz of the front door interrupts him, though, and both he and Joslyn glance at the group of newcomers who enter along with a blast of wintery wind. Now Remy's throat goes completely dry.

Standing in the entrance foyer are the other four men that Xade asked about.

One of them remains by the front door while another begins to poke through the musical instruments cached against the far wall. The remaining two approach Remy, halting just shy of conversational distance, clearly waiting for him to finish with Joslyn.

08:08:12 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Contrary to her expectations, Kovacs doesn't emerge from his room, even after the omelette is finished and the toast has popped. Mac shrugs, eating quietly, her thoughts still disordered. Rinsing her dishes off, she drops them in the dishwasher, then gazes about the kitchen at a loss.

With nothing better to do she drops onto the couch again, powering up the trideo but muting the sound. Working through the menu options she turns on the closed captioning so she can at least keep track of what's going on. The cable package is a step up from basic, giving her the better part of a thousand channels to surf through.

Warmth and a full belly catch up to her, though, and she finds herself dozing on and off. Movement in the house finally wakes her, and she glances at the clock on the trideo to see that it's just after eight. Kovacs emerges from the bedroom wearing a goretex running suit and sneakers. He steps into the bathroom and after a minute Mac hears the toilet flush. He spares her a glance as he heads to the front door, pulling on a neoprene facemask as he does so.

"I'll be back in half an hour. Make yourself at home."

He keys the alarm off before stepping out the front door and into the morning wind.

08:21:32 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

She shook her head as the front door closed behind him.

"Trusting son of a bitch, aren't ya?"

She flipped her attention back to the trid for an instant, her random surfing interrupted on a repeat of Ivory Coast. All the explosions and gunplay reminded her of all the guns she found on her short but uninterrupted search of the place last night. Realizing she had the place to herself for at least the next fifteen minutes or more, she decided to capitalize in checking out the nooks and crannies of the house that had otherwise been off-limits last night. First up, his bedroom.

"He did say make yourself at home afterall."

She padded down the hallway, the oversized shirt she wore slipping from her shoulder as she made her way towards her target. Just before she slipped inside his room, she glanced behind her just to cover her ass. One could only begin to imagine what she might find inside.

08:47:02 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The bedroom was as spartan as she expected, revealing nothing interesting at first glance. The queen bed was unmade, the sheets an unremarkable charcoal checkerboard pattern. The bedside table held a lamp, and a combination alarm clock and commlink charging base station. Pulling open the drawer, Mac expected to find another weapon inside. Instead, she found a small book titled Sand and Foam, Khalil Gibran. Neither the author, nor the work was familiar to her.

The freestanding armoire reveals nothing, packed with neatly folded clothes for all seasons. Apparently Kovacs is a boxers man.

Opening his closet, she finds more racked clothes, although these are newer and aimed towards business casual: button down shirts, polos, and khakis dominate. In the back, though, she finds what she expected. Three pairs of camouflage armor, one woodland, one tundra, and one urban, the pixelated patterns unfamiliar to her eye. A full set of form-fitting body armor, as well as a suit of thick nylon that has some kind of built in cape. A large black rolling duffel bag is stuffed with modular tactical gear, although no other weapons are present.

Mac whirls around at the sound of the front door closing, and Kovacs' steps in the hall. For a moment she considers diving into the closet and closing the doors behind her, but an irrational anger seizes her. She stands defiant, ready for the imminent confrontation.

It never comes.

Kovacs never glances her way, simply turning left into the other bedroom she hasn't explored at this point. It turns out to be a kind of workout room, with a total gym machine in the corner, the floor covered with tatami mats. Against the far wall stands an old RenRaku manservant drone. Kovacs moves before it, now wearing only a compression t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. Mac lets her gaze wander over his body, still well muscled and clearly in shape for his age. She can see a roadmap of scars on the exposed flesh, though, some neat and surgical but most jagged and rough.

"Ready, Sam?" he asks.

"Whenever you are, sir," replies the drone. The two stand unmoving in front of one another for a moment, before Kovacs strikes. The blow is blindingly fast, Mac doesn't see the start of it, only the finish as Sam blocks and responds in kind. The dull thud of flesh against synthetic fills the room, punctuated regularly by the higher pitched clack of synthetic on synthetic. This is a full speed, full power fight, neither opponent pulling punches or giving ground.

The drone's lower torso is a boxy, wheeled base, allowing it to absorb the full power, torquing strikes delivered by Kovacs. Its stationary position, though, prevented him from using maneuver and position to his advantage, forcing him to remain inside striking range at all times.

Mac knows first hand that the exercise is exhausting, she remembers well the burn of fatigue poisons through muscles, how your arms feel leaden and how the sweat stings your eyes. She recognizes some of what Kovacs is using, though, he's studied krav maga as well. He's blending techniques from some other art, though, maybe judo or one of the Korean karate variants. Mac can't say for sure, but she's fascinated.

The speed and power of the fight clearly demonstrate his augmentations, his responses are inhumanly fast, the snake-like fluidity of his arms as they lash out, the iron hard tension in his muscles as his blows land. Mac looks at the clock and is amazed to see that almost ten minutes have passed.

"Ready, sir?" asks Sam suddenly.

"Go!" wheezes Kovacs in reply. The drone produces a knife, a straight combat blade of about fifteen centimeters. The draw is fast and smooth, seamlessly flowing into the attack. In response, a pair of cyberspurs snap out from Kovacs' synthetic arm, locking into place and blocking the blow with a ring of steel on steel.

Mac's blood runs cold as a dim memory, suppressed by fatigue and shock, surfaces with sudden clarity.

Light, glinting off chrome and arcs of crimson.

Her stomach roils as she realizes just what happened to the man who attacked her, and what it was that caused the sounds she heard, and what the wetness on her skin must have been. Sliding to the floor, she hugs her knees to her body, unable to tear her eyes from the spectacle in front of her.

The fight continues, lethal now as the live blades cross. It ends much faster, though. Kovacs catches Sam's blade in a parry, feeds through a control and an open hand blow before turning through faster than the drone can catch. The blade, still clutched in Sam's hand, clatters to the floor. The drone lifts its arm so that it can examine the ruined wrist, fiber optics and servo lines dangling uselessly from the open casing. Kovacs grunts, retracting his spurs with a silent command.

"Repairs will require approximately two hours, sir," advises Sam, retrieving both its blade and its hand from the floor.

"Spares are in the usual place," acknowledges Kovacs, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel lifted from the workout bench. Turning, his eyes find Mac for the first time, taking in her slumped position on the floor, his bedroom, and the open closet beyond.

"You all right?" he asks.

08:56:31 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

With her forehead now against her knees, and the sharp, bitter tang of the remnants of bile in her mouth, she shook her head and let out a meek “no” that was muffled at best. Her breath was ragged still and when she finally did lift her head up to look at Kovacs her extra-long wear mascara had finally broken down by tears leaving black flakes and smudges around her eyes.

She struggled to get to her feet, her eyes locked on Kovacs’ as she slowly approached him. The closer she got, the more she was drawn to him. Her eyes dropped from his and landed on the patchwork of scars across his biceps. Without even thinking she reached up, the difference in their height never more apparent, and gently let her fingertip trace over one of the gnarliest of scars.

“Who are you?” Was all she could whisper before turning her face up to him.

15:46:53 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Pieces of the puzzle still not clicking together to form a whole picture, Remy desperately tries to figure out just what the hell is going down.
Why the hell is everyone so drekkin' intrested in these chummers alla sudden ? he wonders, as he looks at the picture of the man before him, standing alongside one of the previous five that Xade had enquired about only hours ago.
The blue green glow of the comm illuminating his face as he squints at the detail, this time actually interested in case this picture adds more detail to the missing man than the previous one.

Trying hard to keep the flicker of recognition from his eyes and and from the tone of voice he responds with as neutral a statement as he can delivered flatly and evenly, he hopes.
"I dunnos, maybe he did, maybe he didn't, we gets lots of chummers in da shop and we's not e'sactly short on weird electricals, ya scan" indicating with a wide arc of his right arm at the sheer expanse of junk that adorns the shelves of the small salesroom.

Thinking Lessee if this guy is offering more than white cards and more mysteries, He reviews the lessons Danny has instilled, carefully trying to select the most appropriate pitch that will keep him talking and dropping hints as to how much he wants the information, without saying something to drop the cast iron door of disinterest into the proceedings.
And then the infernal door buzzer activates, the noise rattling in between the hemispheres of his brain, beginning a migraine as he sees the strings of the deal unravelling before his eyes.

The door opens and admits four gentlemen, if Remy managed to conceal the recognition in his face of one of their colleagues before, he completely fails to do so now confronted by the full team.
Along the nape of his neck, a bead of sweat forms despite the icy blast from the open portal and begins to trail down his spine, feeling every millimetre of it's movements as frozen razor blades, flaying his flesh as it begins it's downward motion, while the panic begins to set in.

His first instinct now, is to not let this guy leave, he is tied to this somehow and Remy is desperate to figure out the puzzle, he wracks his brain for a ruse to play both the guy in front of him and to get him away from the mooks.

"Ummmm... yeah ...No uhhh... no problem Sir, I has sum spare parts for a comm likes dat, should be an easy fix, say five hunnerd bucks?"
He rushes to blurt out the whole thing to the customer without taking his eyes away from following the latest arrivals and emphasising the relevant parts to him as if explaining to a five year old child that everything is okay, just let the adults handle it!
Urgently shoving the arm of the client away with it's attached device, praying to any deity listening right now that he has de-activated the comm and that the picture has faded from view,
he adds "ifs you waits a few minutes I gets da job done, dere's a waiting room inna back!" Throwing a thumb over his shoulder past the glass bead curtain into the repair shop and kitchenette area.
Hoping the guy has sense to move quickly rather than spend all day questioning things that Remy now has no time to consider.

Still maintaining eye contact with the mooks he addresses the nearest two as they approach the counter "Hoi Gents, Welcome to Danny's Pawn and Loan, how cans I help you?"
The icy razor blade of sweat has now reached the arch of his lower back and as if it has severed the nerves there, his legs feel numb and almost turned to jelly as he again tries to keep his composure.

his left hand on the counter top keeping him steady and holding on as if it were the only solid and stable object in a rapidly spinning hurricane of a world.
The right hand pinned at his side, he contemplates just grabbing and holding the gun for some measure of self security, but DREK IT he remembers he hasn't returned it from his coat in the excitement of his return from Auburn.

15:48:02 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

"Spare parts?" Joslyn asks in confusion, starting to wonder if this Ork's been listening to a damn thing he's been saying, but then notes the panic in the young Ork's eyes.

Glancing at one of the new customers, Joslyn's trained eyes note the characteristic bulge of a concealed weapon.

Interesting clientele...maybe today won't be a complete bust.

Quickly turning back to Remy, he glances at the commlink again then nonchalantly sets it recording audio and locks the device.

"I'd hoped it was just a software problem." he continues nonchalantly, setting the link down on the counter "Do be careful with that, I have some holiday snaps I've not backed up yet."

With a nod to the panicked lad, he calmly steps through the bead curtain and, checking that there's no-one else in the kitchen area, draws his Predator.

Placing the pistol on the counter for a moment, he quickly rinses out a used glass and fills it with water then retrieves the pistol and lets it hang down by his side as he leans against the counter, occasionally sipping the water as he quietly tries to listen in on the meeting next door.

A gang looking for protection money maybe? Joslyn considers No, they were too civil for that...and the boy definitely didn't want them hearing about Romano he grinned and took a sip of water My interest is officially piqued.

09:41:16 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"Probably just who you need right now," replies Kovacs, his voice level and matter of fact. This close, she can smell the sweat and heat from his body, an earthy, masculine aroma that draws her irresistibly forward. He covers her hand with his own, enveloping it with calloused strength. Mac moves with him as he steps forward as if they were dancing, following his head as he guides her into the bathroom.

With an ease that looks effortless, he lifts her onto the countertop. Reaching behind her, he moistens a washcloth and gently wipes away her tears and the black smears of mascara. The gesture is one of such unexpected tenderness that for a moment Mac forgets the livid bruises decorating her face. The reality crashes in on her, and she turns away from Kovacs.

"Don't look at me," she mutters, one again feeling the uncontrollable sting of tears in her eyes, and hating herself for the weakness of it all. She felt the smooth, cool synthetic grip of his right hand turn her head back towards him. She resisted, but only momentarily. He waited to speak until she finally glanced up to meet his gaze.

"The flashbacks are normal. You've experienced a traumatic assault. Your mind will try and cope with it in a number of ways. First, it will repress things which are too painful to deal with now. Second, you will forget details. Third, you will feel anxious, moody and on edge. All of these are natural, normal things. Don't think that you're going crazy. The most important thing to do now is to recognize that your mind and body are trying to heal themselves and to let them do so."

Standing back, he peeled off his compression shirt, revealing a further patina of scars beneath. To Mac's surprise, he strips out of his shorts as well, standing casually naked before her for a moment before stepping into the shower. He sighs happily beneath the hot spray of water.

"As you heal, you will remember things about the incident." His voice is muffled by the spray of water and the shower curtain, but still audible. "Don't try and second guess yourself. Don't blame yourself. What happened, happened. If mistakes were made, learn from them. Do not let self-doubt get the better of you."

Mac fights a battle within herself, wanting so badly to strip off her borrowed clothes and stand naked before him, but hating the ugly purple and yellow marks tattooed across her body. There's something about him, though, that drew her onward. His casual authority, the easy control that he asserted in every situation, the dominance that he exuded as easily as breathing. She couldn't help herself.

Slowly at first, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head, then slipped the pants down before kicking them into the corner. Still, she hesitated.

Dammit, get it together, girl! This isn't the first time you've been naked with a man before!

Mac smirked at the plentiful truth of that statement, but the sardonic expression faded from her lips as she followed that thought. There was something about Kovacs which made her feel more naked. With the other Johns, it was never Mac that was naked. It was just some girl, just an anonymous female body. This, though, was different. When Kovacs looked at her, it was like he was looking right through her, as if the artifice and facade she had spent a lifetime crafting were nothing more than translucent curtains for his penetrating gaze.

Taking a deep breath in an effort to steady her nerves, she slipped through the shower curtain. For a moment she did nothing but watch his feet, and the water swirling down the drain between them. Then she lifted her eyes, finding the unsettling gray gaze from his cybereyes watching her. He reached out, sliding his arm around her waist, and she lifted her mouth to him, waiting. Instead of accepting her implicit offer, though, he simply encircled her with his arms, pulling her body into his.

For a moment, Mac stood stiffly in his embrace, finding herself in uncertain territory. Her arms came up, though, almost of their own volition, and hugged him back. He was warm from the shower, smelling of some kind of citrus body wash. His skin against hers sent a heady rush of pleasure through her body, and she felt her nipples harden in response.

Mac had played this scene so many times before that she was ready for anything other than what Kovacs did. Which was to lift her up and turn in place, setting her down so the spray of hot water coursed over her skin. She gasped at the heat, shaking her head as a bit splashed in her face. She looked up to see him filling his hand with another puddle of the body wash, setting the bottle aside before lathering it over her shoulders.

If she'd felt naked before, having him wash her made her feel downright transparent. It was unbelievably intimate, a situation so unique in her experience that she didn't quite know how to respond, standing mute as he turned her around so that he could wash her back. His hands are broad and strong, and she can feel the callouses there from a lifetime of work. His touch, though, is gentle and careful, mindful of her bruises. It does nothing to ease the arousal bubbling through her. Mac bites her lip as his hands smooth the body wash over her breasts, her nipples hard beneath the massage of his palms. And as he works his way lower, across her stomach to the smooth curves of her hips, she delights in seeing that she's having an effect on him as well.

But when he stands again, reaching past her to rinse the soap from his hands, he catches her as she reaches for his groin, shaking his head softly.

"Not yet. You're not ready. And, more importantly, I'm not ready."

He brings her hand up so he can press his lips to the back of it, before quirking a smile at her and stepping out of the shower to towel off.

15:50:20 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

If Joslyn's abrupt departure raised any suspicions, neither man addresses them. The first simply watches him go while the second turns to Remy.

"Yeah, a chummer of ours stopped in here a couple of days ago looking for some old liquid cooling units for server towers. He said you had one in stock. May I see it? We'd like to purchase it if it's in good working order."

Remy doesn't remember anyone in asking about the boxed up cooling unit that's been sitting on the shelf waiting for him to get around to repairing it, but it might have been Danny who handled that transaction.

"Uh, let me check in back," he says, once more glancing around at the four men before exiting quickly through the curtain. He sees Joslyn standing in the doorway to the kitchenette, a glass of water in one hand and a pistol in the other. Danny appears from the office, also armed, but with his commlink open.

"Is it trouble enough for the Star, kid?" he asks.

10:11:41 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Watching him walk out of the shower, leaving her behind caused her to clench her fists and sigh heavily. This moment right there was the exact reason she never let her guard down, never got involved. Mac knew better, had been taught better, and yet here she was. Rejection in any form, was a bitch.

Stupid move, rookie.

She chastised herself for a few moments before all she wanted to do was get out of the shower, get dressed and grab a smoke. She ignored the slightly awkward silence between them as she turned the water off, grabbed a towel and quickly got dressed. Throwing the same pair of clothes on for the third time made her crave the comfort and privacy of her own little place not to mention her own things. She stalked back into the living room, jamming her feet into the pair of sneakers before tossing on her longcoat for warmth.

She tore open the front door and pulled it shut hard behind her, much like the impudent teenager she would have been had life not chosen this path for her. The cold air made it hard to take the first breath but she quickly fished the pack of Haukodo’s from her pocket and used the auto-igniter on the pack to light the first cigarette she’d had in days. One deep inhale in, and a slow exhale of blue-grey smoke flared from her nostrils like a baby dragon learning to breathe fire.

With each inhale, she started to calm, to feel the walls building back up to protect her. She was getting her bearings again, separating Mac from the girl in the shower. Becoming Josie or Rose or whomever someone wanted, expected and paid for her to be.

She carefully extinguished the butt of her cigarette before stepping back inside Kovacs’ house. She hung her coat in the foyer on a spare hook, left her shoes at the front door as to not track in moisture and made a bee-line for the couch. The smell of smoke, spice and clove followed her wherever she walked, snowflakes stood out pure white against the dark black of her hair before they melted into dampness.

Mac wrapped herself with the sleeping bag and tucked her feet up beneath her and started channel surfing on the trideo when Kovacs walked through. Not even tearing her eyes away from the screen as he walked towards the kitchen, she spoke up softly.

“I made breakfast. Leftovers are in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

15:52:40 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

With the sudden increase in the pace of events Remy's mind spins with possibilities and not all of them fill him with anything but a growing sense of dread.

"No, no needs for da star, I finks I gots dis" He quickly placates his uncle with a manic grin broadening on his young face "But, cooling unit? dis fing ring any bells wiv you ? dem five guys the pretty girl was after is here after it"
Without caring if the other party present can hear this discourse he quickly examines the room for something he can use to his advantage.
Recognising the box he needs, he calls out loud enough the clients in the front shop can hear him "Dis fings not got fixed yet, yous still wants it ?" He expects the answer to be affirmative and continues working.

Reaching up on tiptoes for the unmarked brown card storage box he carefully brings it down to the ground by his bench and in doing so finally spots the item he wants, in a pile in a corner,
an old tech peltier cooler & dehumidifier , another project he never got round to finishing for his hyper cooled hacker deck for his crew man GiggerByte.

Moving quickly and with a purpose now he removes the requested cooler from its container and replaces it with the hastily assembled consumer electronic device.
Joslyn leans at the door frame, listening intently into the other room with pistol in hand, sips the water and indicates with a twist of his head toward the front room, that Remy should hurry, Danny meanwhile, moves quickly, quietly to the coat hook and retrieves the pistol from Remy's coat pocket, looking back to meet the kids shocked eyes as he chambers a round and readies the weapon.
"What?!!... you think you're that sneaky your old man wouldn't know? Drek kid you got some growin' to do yet afore ya get the drop on me!"

Remy goes back to the task at hand with a groan but also with a purpose now, his hands moving quickly, pushing the contraband under his workbench out of sight he collects the box of what he hopes now looks like a similar jumbled set of cooler parts and hoists it in front of his chest, gripping it with both hands.
with a shout of "Ahhh, Got's it ... coming now sir!" he returns past Joslyn, sharing a silent prayer and a look of Well, here goes nothing! he steps into the bead curtained door frame and steels himself for the customers imminent rebuke.

The clients raise their gaze to see the returning Ork with the box of their goods, Remy emerges from the bead curtain breathing noisily and making it sound as if he is being both urgent and careful with the precious cargo.
Without looking down he catches his quickly moving leg on the bottom of the curtain, hooking his foot around it and hoping it performs as is usual and tries to assassinate him
This is gunna hurts! he promises himself as the steel wire core of the glass bead door covering tautens and indeed catches on his clothing as he passes,
reaching the limit of it's extension it halts Remy's forward movement, his hind leg tries reflexively to hold his weight but only succeeds in propelling him forward toward the gap in the counter to the open area of the shop.

Feigning a look of aghast surprise, Remy holds tightly to the box, in fact rather than any attempt to protect it, he uses it to try and prevent himself from any injury, twisting in the air he uses it as a break fall putting all his momentum into slamming it hard into the ground in front of the clients while still attempting to maintain the ruse of it being an utter accident.
The box emits a crash and the satisying tinkle of broken delicate electrical components and plastic casings.

Lying face down prone at full extension with the box lying crumpled and still in his grasp he begins to wail and cry "Oooow, oooh gods, noo I's so sorry mister, " he crawls onto his knees and gives the box a gentle shake, more tinkles of broken silicon and glass from the box "I can fixes it! .. I promises I can ... leaves us a number .. I calls you soon as it's fixed yeah ??"
He pleads with the guy, tears of legitimate pain oooh, Mights have overdone that! streak his face as he writhes on the ground.

10:32:19 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs shook his head, either ignoring or unaware of her shift in mood. "You're a woman of hidden talents, thank you."

Retrieving the covered dish from the fridge, he slides it into the microwave and zaps it back to warmth. While the food is heating, he pulls a bowl from the cupboard and fills it with a whole grain cereal. By the time he's added a sliced banana and milk, the leftovers are done reheating and he carries them all to the table. He eats methodically, quickly plowing through the food in front of him to stock his body with nutrients.

He has only a few bites left on his plate when his commlink rings. Mac glances over in time to catch his look of surprise.

"Go ahead," he answers. "Oh, hey man, what's up?"

He listens for a minute, and she watches as his face goes cold and hard.

"No. I told you I don't do that work anymore."

Another moment passes, and she watches as his shoulders slump. He kneads his forehead with the knuckles of his left hand.

"All right. But this is the last time. That well is dry. Send me the details."

Kovacs puts down his phone and leans back in his chair. The commlink buzzes with an incoming file, but he ignores it, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. After a minute he drinks the last of his glass of water in a deliberate series of swallows. His eyes find Mac.

"I've got to go for a drive, you want to come with?"

15:55:27 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

There's a moment of utter silence in the shop, broken only by the tinkle of broken electronics as Remy glances up to find the cold gaze of the two customers on him. He begins to babble an apology and an offer to repair the item before he's cut off by the first.

"Goddamn useless trog," he mutters, turning towards the front door. The second man holds out a hand.

"We've got other places to check. We shouldn't do this now."

The first man remains silent for a moment, then nods. Without further word, he heads towards the front door. His other two companions are already out on the street. The second man turns to look back at Remy, still stretched on the floor and wincing in real pain now as the effects of his stunt catch up to him.

"You should be more careful in the future, kid. It'll save your life." He turns and heads out the front door as well.

10:34:51 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

The idea of getting out of the house and the possibility of convincing Kovacs to either drop her off at her place or at least stop somewhere that she could get a proper change of clothes and a couple of packs of gum sounded like a dream trip.

She shrugged non-shalantly.

"Sure, everything ok?" She raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance towards his commlink.

10:40:09 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Kovacs glances at his commlink before standing from the table.

"For now. Although things are about to become pretty fragging far from okay."

Rinsing his dishes in the sink, he drops them into the dishwasher before heading down the hall into his room. After a few minutes he reappears, dressed this time in a charcoal gray Vashon Island long coat and suit. His cybereyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and he has a heavy duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice distant. Mac nodded, eager to finally be in motion after all this time. She follows him down the stairs into the garage, sliding into the passenger seat of a late model Land Rover SUV. Kovacs opens the garage door before firing up the heavy truck's turbo diesel and backing into the street.

The overnight snow has left a heavy dusting across the city, and although the skies are bright, a cold wind still blows. The streets are sparse with traffic despite the workday. Kovacs points the Land Rover towards downtown.

"Gotta place where I can drop you?" he asks, his voice distant and hollow.

10:43:36 Monday 08 January 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"You sure that's such a good idea? I mean I could keep the car running for you..."

Mac retrieved a hair binder from a pocket of her longcoat and quickly pulled her hair back off her face in a messy ponytail that made her look even younger than usual as she rode along side Kovacs and waited for his response.

Getting nothing but a stern face focused on driving and a silent wall that felt as cold as the air outside she shook her head and realized this is where their journey would end.

"If You have to drop me off, and you're headed into downtown and could swing by Shatter, I'd love to get my bike out of hock with the valet gremlins before I owe them more than my rent."

15:59:31 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Joslyn holsters his pistol and carefully steps past the bead curtain. He catches a glimpse of the last two men leaving the shop and considers following for the briefest moment.

And do what? Citizen's arrest?

He bends down to help Remy to his feet.

"You okay kid? Looked like a hard fall."

"I's fine mista." Remy sniffles slightly as he stands, looking ruefully at the mess of parts strewn across the floor. Joslyn pats him on the shoulder and gently leads him towards the front door.

"Good lad," he says with a smile "Now show me some of the stuff by the window here."

As the young Ork starts to point to and name various items, Joslyn glances out the window, hoping to see what vehicles the men head to.

Once they're out of sight, Joslyn sighs and walks across to the counter to retrieve his commlink, tucking it back in his pocket, he turns back to Remy and smiles.

"So, about my missing friend," he crouches, rights the dropped box and starts carefully placing the spilled contents back inside "He was looking for a cooling system too, can't figure out why though." he gestures at the door with a bent piece of metal "Are most of your customers armoured and armed or is this just one of those days?"

11:09:12 Monday 08 January 2063 – Shatter, 2815 Juneau St, Downtown, Seattle

A harsh chuckle is the only reply from Kovacs as the Range Rover takes the onramp to the 405 that'll route them to 5 into downtown. Mac stares out the window at the traffic passing by, the buildings in the distance huddle beneath their dusting of snow, stark and silent in the winter wind. She feels the same emptiness within, her eyes focusing momentarily on Kovacs' reflection in the window.

She didn't want their time to end. At least, not like this. He was the first man in a long time to treat her with any kind of respect. And real trust as well. He'd left her alone in his home while he'd gone for his morning jog. In anyone else Mac would have scoffed at their naivete, but his street savvy was not in question. Why had he trusted her, then? Questions danced in her mind, but a glance at the opaque expression he wore told her that answers were not likely to be forthcoming.

They pulled into Shatter's parking lot before she was ready, but that wasn't the worst of the news. Mac glanced around the nearly empty lot, her eyes traveling over the spot where she knew her bike had been parked three times before she was willing to entertain the most likely reason why her prized Mirage was absent.

"Sonufabitch." Mac cursed.

"What's wrong?" asked Kovacs.

11:15:28 Monday 08 January 2063 – Shatter, 2815 Juneau St, Downtown, Seattle

Kovacs barely had the Rover come to a complete stop before Mac was leaping from the passenger door and stalking towards the now empty parking lot, heading directly to the spot where her bike should have been. Frustration, anger and exasperation were written all over her face.

"God fraggin' damnit! Seriously what next? Gonna burn my apartment down too while your at it?"

She kicked at the debris that littered the parking lot and her urge to lose her cool was at the breaking point.

11:21:04 Monday 08 January 2063 – Shatter, 2815 Juneau St, Downtown, Seattle

Kovacs watched the petite girl snarl at the nearly empty parking lot, hurling curses that a fair number of street sams might have blushed at into the cold winter air. He didn't, mostly because his mind was already at combat footing, running numbers down with the speed and sagacity born of years of living on the edge. He'd spent the entirety of the drive over digesting the dossier that de Medici had sent him, along with the details of the club and the target. Now, he pushed that display to the background, routing a call through his headware comms.

Kovacs. I assume this isn't a social call? Isomer, who never communicated in anything other than text, still managed to make his tone sound dry and amused. Kovacs never understood how he did it.

You know me too well. Two things. First, can you dump the surveillance cameras for the past twenty four hours surrounding 2815 Juneau Street, downtown? All the views of the parking lot for that building if you can. Second, interior and exterior surveillance of Inspire, 7044 Northampton Boulevard, downtown. That order of precedence, as quick as five thousand can get them to me. Kovacs keyed in the routing number for the secure dropbox that Isomer used for all his payments.

Thirty minutes, replied the decker without hesitation. Kovacs killed the connection. He turned the heater up a bit in the truck. As he watched Mac he wondered at his actions for the past twenty four hours. Why had he let Linda give this girl his address? Why had he let her stay the night rather than just taking her home? Why hadn't he thrown her down on the floor and fragged her until she couldn't walk straight?

That last question was easy to answer. She was clearly damaged goods, and not just due to the ballistic pattern of bruises left by the would be rapist/murder he'd torn off her Saturday night. Her mind would still be dealing with the aftermath of that attack, with all of its impacts on her ability to trust and communicate, especially with an alpha male. But beyond that, based on what Linda had told him, she was one of the girls who grew up using her body to get what she needed on the streets. She was liable to equate physical intimacy with emotional intimacy, and certainly she would be unable to distinguish his ability to care for her without wanting to frag her.

A wry smile twisted his lips. The problem was he did want to frag her. He wanted to tie her down and do bad things to her, savage, painful things, until she wept and bled and screamed for him. There was no way she was ready for that. Not now, perhaps not ever.

Not even that, though, could explain why he wanted to help her. Why he let her sleep on his couch over night, why he'd just spent twenty five hundred nuyen in an effort to find out what happened to her motorcycle, and why he was currently contemplating taking her with him when he ran the reconnaissance on the club.

A different thought surfaced through the combat machinery of his mind. Alone, he might trip the alarms of security and/or bodyguards. But if he had protective coloration, a shiny bauble to distract them....

Kovacs mulled over the possibilities while Mac cursed herself out before stomping back to the rover, climbing into the cab and slamming the door shut. Silence filled the air inside while the heater strove to lift the temperature to something comfortable.

"Would you rather go to lunch, or would you rather swing by your place?" asked Kovacs, his voice blandly casual, as if her fifteen minute rant had never happened.

16:05:11 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Standing upright now, with his chin rested on his chest to get a better view of his own torso, poking gingerly with finger tips at his sore ribs between the impact gel packs of the armoured vest, Remy hunts for anything more than the tender flesh he finds there
"Owie!.. I'm gud fanks, nuffink a fresh Sammich wouldn't fix anyways"

Preliminary medical checks concluded he relaxes and kicks angrily at the box of parts that he used as decoy, sending it skittering across the floor and into the counter,
more tinny sounds of broken electronics accompany the dull thud of the impact.
"Frag it all, I wuz hopin' dey'd leave a number or address like dat uvver woman whats wuz after them!!"
the frustration visible in the way he scrunches his face up in thought and eyebrows knit together like angry warring caterpillars.

In the doorway to the back, Danny has retrieved the curtain from the floor and holding it up to the top of the frame where it was previously affixed,
the fasteners bent out of shape and screws ripped from the timber frame
"I'm gonna get my tools from the lock up, put the CLOSED sign up kid and lock the door, let's call this a day huh ?"
with a backward glance at Joslyn that says all he needs to say without speaking a word, he pointedly holsters the Savalette Guardian and then walks out past the kitchenette,
grabbing a warm jacket before heading out into the bitter cold.

Remy looks at one and then the other of the two men as his uncle leaves him Wut the Drek? he considers asking but remains silent as the realisation hits him that he's suddenly very alone and vulnerable here in the place where these people keep finding him.
"Those guys could come back, could't they?" the quietly spoken question isn't really aimed at Joslyn, more a rhetorical one to the universe as the kid gazes out the window and
into the thickening blizzard where dark shadows of people passing appear and as quickly vanish.

It's only now that the full impact of the days events replay in his mind and with an imperceptible *Click* a piece of the puzzle aligns with one other to form a corner of the whole.
"HEY! ... not so fast mister !" he spins on his heel and points angrily at Joslyn "Dey were here after your chummer! .. an' I wants ta know why's! .. Who are you .. who is dey ?"
arms held wide in exasperation he demands some answers from Joslyn
"And what the drek is dat cooling system ?" moving carefully but quickly, he beckons Joslyn to follow him, Remy dashes out back and to his workbench to retrieve the carcass he rescued.
laying it on the desk he stands and stares at it, confused, not knowing what he's really looking at or where to begin any examination"
"What the frag has I gotten into ?" he sighs.

11:23:41 Monday 08 January 2063 – Shatter, 2815 Juneau St, Downtown, Seattle

Kovacs’ too casual demeanor was a stark contrast to the boiling rage that she held just beneath the surface. For a moment she looked at him like he had two heads before deciding that a ride to her place would be better than having to hail a cab. Besides, a change of clothes and cleaning herself up would go far if she was going to find her bike.

“My place would be great actually. 24th and East Valley.”

Mac settled back against the front seat and grabbed the safety belt, jamming it into place as her eyes moved back towards where her bike had once stood. One last sigh sealed the deal as Kovacs pulled the Rover into traffic and headed north.

12:18:03 Monday 08 January 2063 – 2356 E. Valley St., Downtown, Seattle

It was just before noon when Kovacs rolled to a stop at the corner of 24th and E. Valley.

“Hang a left, grab a spot. You’re welcome to come up if you’d like, I won’t be long.”

The neighborhood was low-rent and it showed. All the buildings were in a state of disrepair. Homeless took up residence in almost every front stoop, and Mac’s building was no different. A filthy old man with barely any teeth and a matted, curly grey beard that went on for days flashed a brilliant smile as Mac and Kovacs approached the front door.

“Top o’ the morning to ya Miz Turner” the man said as he tipped a non-existent cap at the pair. He raised a filthy plastic bottle in a mock toast, the liquid contained inside was murky, foul looking and probably not consumable. His brow furrowed as he studied the matrix of bruises across Mac’s face. Her cheeks pulled into a soft, genuine smile upon seeing the man at the front door.

“Good morning Wally. No time for a beer this morning, can my friend and I take a raincheck?”

Wally frowned for an instant and then nodded his ok as he turned a suspicious eye towards Kovacs.

“You don’t bring friends around here Miz Turner. What makes him so different?”

Very good question my friend, very good question.

Mac flashed him a smile as she stepped carefully past Wally and opened the front door. Stepping inside, she opted for the stairs vs. the crappy elevator that got stuck every other time she was in it. Once they hit the 4th floor, she took a quick left down the hallway and stopped in front of 423 and made quick work unlocking the many locks on the door. The apartment was minimal, but it was well cared for. Laid out like a studio, you stepped immediately into the living area with Mac’s bed tucked in the corner closest to the few windows in the apartment. Her bed was the only “luxury” in the room, full of fluffy pillows and warm blankets. Everything else appeared to be second or even third hand items.

“It’s not much, but it’s mine. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be out in a few.”

Breezing through the small space she pulled a few items of clothing from a neat stack of freshly laundered clothes and made a bee-line into her bathroom to freshen up. She stayed true to her promise, emerging from the bathroom in under 15 minutes looking like an entirely different person. Gone was the grungy ponytail, replaced by soft flowing waves of dark hair. Her bruises vanished under expertly applied body makeup and she stalked out of the room in a pair of synth leather pants which looked like they had been painted on. Strappy black platform sandals gave her back some height and the bold peacock blue of the faux silk halter she wore showed more skin than it covered.

Grabbing a skinny tube out of a container on a dresser she finished off the look with a pale, baby pink lip gloss and turned back to look at Kovacs as she transferred a few items from the pockets of her longcoat into a more appropriate looking synth leather jacket.

"I believe I owe you lunch. Not much around here besides greasy dives and vendomats, so if you have something in mind..."

16:07:12 Monday, 08 January 2063 - Danny's Pawn and Loan, 15710 SE Newport Way, Bellevue, Seattle

Looking at the cooling unit, Joslyn wonders again what it could be useful for, he'd seen things like this on server farms back when he was setting out as a security guard but not for a long time.

"Well kid," he ignores the cooling system for now and turns to the inquisitive Ork "Sounds like we've both got a stake in whatever's going down here."

Looking at the panicked face on the young Ork disturbed Joslyn, vague memories of smoke and flame pushed in at the corners of his mind and the sound of not-quite-human voices screaming for help dimly echoed in his skull, urging him to calm the boy down.

Might as well toss him a bone, kid's gonna have a heart attack.

"Those four gents, as far as I scan, just came into town this past week or so. They've been looking for untraceable tech and, for some reason, a cooling system. They're...how should I put this? Not legitimate businessmen...of the extra-legal persuasion."

"Now, you said a lady was looking for them...do you know anything about her?"

12:21:16 Monday 08 January 2063 – 2356 E. Valley St., Downtown, Seattle

It wasn't lost on Kovacs that Mac's demeanor changed closer to her home turf, nor that she was pushing to take control of the situation. He filed away her address for later, responding to Isomer's notification of an incoming file with a request for details about the location as he stood in the kitchenette of her studio apartment.

Data flashed past on a forty percent overlay in his vision, a security camera feed that he spun through at ten times speed, his practiced gaze picking out the required timestamp. He was ready for her when she came out of the bathroom, but not quite for just how much better she looked. Now he really wanted to do bad things to her.

Instead, he smiled. "Lunch sounds like a capital idea. I have just the place. But first...."

Leaving the sentence hanging, he unrolled the screen on his commlink, orienting it so that she could see, before playing the camera feed at 1:1 speed. The image shows the parking lot at oh five hundred, heavy snowflakes dusting past the camera. The pair of valets exit the club, hands jammed down into the pockets of their coats. One stops the other, though, and points to Mac's motorcycle, sitting alone in the lot. They confer momentarily before one heads off to the loading dock, raising the rolling door while the other pushes the motorcycle inside, leaving it in the wide hall that connects the loading bay with the club's kitchen stores. The two close the door and disappear from view.

"Seems like someone was looking out for you. Anyway, you're on for lunch. Although don't sweat this one. It's going to be a business expense. I'll explain later."

So saying, Kovacs turned and exited the apartment, checking up and down the hall as Mac laboriously relocked the door, before heading down to the range rover.

12:37:22 Monday 08 January 2063 – Inspire, 7044 Northampton Boulevard, Downtown, Seattle

Copy all? asked Isomer. Kovacs stepped out of the Land Rover, his silent communication with his decker unremarked upon by his lunch companion, who simply gave him a questioning eyebrow at his choice of restaurants. He smiled in return.

Good copy. I need loopback coverage on all the interior cameras that cover the entrance, dining room, and restrooms. Probably for an hour. I'll get the bill afterwards. Starting now. Kovacs held the door for Mac.

"After you, my dear."

"So now you're a gentleman?" she teased, eyes mischievous behind her sunglasses. He shrugged as she walked past.

"Gentleman, scoundrel. All this and more."

Loopback on, came Isomer's message. Kovacs cut the call, eyes adjusting to the indoor lighting automatically.

Gentleman. Scoundrel. Assassin.

12:39:35 Monday 08 January 2063 – Inspire, 7044 Northampton Boulevard, Downtown, Seattle

With the weight of the status of her bike off her shoulders Mac had gained a bit of spring in her step as she brushed past Kovacs as he held the door. She moved with a cat-like grace even though most movements still stung. As she breezed into the entryway, her jacket slipped from her shoulders and draped over her arm, exposing creamy pale skin and the hint of a peek-a-boo tattoo where the bottom of her halter draped against the small of her back.

She blinked twice as her eyes adjusted to the interior lighting scheme, revealing to her a sea of dark hardwood, gleaming chrome and high polished black glass. She bit her tongue as she much preferred the dark, dirty, smoky fetish clubs to a high-end place like this.

The switch had been flipped. It was almost unavoidable, places like this just brought out a certain performance from her. A higher-class carriage with a hint of trouble just lingering beneath the surface. Something most men who could afford to dine in a restaurant like this found, irresistible. She had to play the arm candy when working a place like this, paid to be pretty, a trophy of sorts. Old habits die hard and she was comfortably slipping into that role as the pair approached the Maître d’.

Mac pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and flashed a coy smile up at Kovacs.

“So, if this is a business lunch, just whose business are we conducting?”

12:44:09 Monday 08 January 2063 – Inspire, 7044 Northampton Boulevard, Downtown, Seattle

"Mine," replied Kovacs, matter of fact and not just a little sotto voce. He flashed a smile at the maitre' d, who took in his corporate attire as well as the pretty young thing on his arm and made the exact quick slice judgment Kovacs wanted him to make.

"This way, sir," she said, drily. She lead them back past the bar and through the maze of small tables to a booth in the corner, an intimately comfortable distance away from any of the other patrons. Kovacs scanned the menu as she departed, his eyes mostly on the exit lanes and security cameras, the windows and the hallways leading back to the kitchen and restrooms.

"Order whatever you want," he told Mac. "If the food here is particularly unpalatable, we'll stop for something real on the way back to the house."

12:48:36 Monday 08 January 2063 – Inspire, 7044 Northampton Boulevard, Downtown, Seattle

A small, almost imperceptible raise of an eyebrow is all the response she gave towards the mention of "home" before picking up the tablet that rested on the table. Mac read over a menu that contained a ton of things she had never eaten let alone could barely pronounce.

The attentive waitstaff wasted no time politely approaching the table, checking on the pair. Mac flashed a million watt smile at the young woman who stood before them.

“Could I please have the house salad with grilled chicken, dressing on the side? Oh and sparkling water, with orange if you’d be so kind?”

Inwardly, Mac laughed. It was better than acting, and it felt like so much more “fun” than when she was working.