00:27:31 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac closed her eyes slowly, trying to rein in her quickening heartbeat and forcing herself to keep her breath steady. This was the adrenaline rush she craved, pushing boundaries, taking dangerous risks, anything to prolong the high that came with it. When she opened her eyes again just as slowly, any trace of a smile had left her face and only her eyes gave away what she wanted.

“Until I tell you to stop.”

00:41:08 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs feels his lips pull back in a feral grin, the energy suddenly loose in his body. He flexes his hands once, twice, curling the fingers into claws. Then he reaches for Mac. Winding his hand in her hair, he pulls her in for a savage, hungry kiss. She winds herself around him, rubbing her body against his. Then he throws her against the wall. Mac gasps in surprise, but she doesn't have time for anything else before Kovacs is on her. He uses his body; fists, forearms, knees, shoulders, shins, to hurt her. The blows are vicious and intense but perfectly controlled, heavy surfaces spreading the impacts so they leave surface and muscle bruises rather than broken bones. She fought back, but he wasn't slowing himself as he did during their training session this morning. Accelerated reflexes and reinforced muscles brushed aside her blows. The blows bounced her off the wall until she was awash in the endorphins of pain, no longer resisting, simply drinking in the energy.

Kovacs yanked her off the wall, pitching her onto the bed. Again he was on her before she could think of escape, once more twisting her arms behind her back, ropes burning over her skin as he bound her tightly. Once more her back arched as he drew her ankles into her shoulders, wringing a gasp from her lips. That quickly became a scream as he sank his teeth into the tender flesh of her side. He bit her down one side then the other, choosing his spots with sadistic glee. Mac sobbed in her bonds, pain rolling through her.

00:45:33 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Fresh waves of tears spilled down Mac’s cheeks with each savage bite, as her body burned white-hot beneath his mouth. Sharp screams of pain as he found just the right spot each time causing her to wrench her body in a vain attempt to get away, straining viciously against the ropes. Deep in her head everything got twisted, pain registered at first and got jumbled and translated into pleasure along the way.

She snarled and she thrashed beneath him the best she could but she never called out for him to stop.

12:36:34 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"Don't tell anyone, but I finks dis machine is defectives! .. It's tryin ta kill me !" Remy tries to make light his current predicament,
but the lances of searing white pain as the raw skin is treated to disinfectant wash and coated with plas-skin give the game away more than he hoped.

"So, I guesses I owes you n' da big fella an apologies? .. shudda called ya, buts ya knows how it goes rights ?"

He looks guiltily up at her and tries to bat the auto-doc treatment arm away with his cheek but doesn't quite manage it

"is Danny and Joslyn okay ? .. I kinda got carried away wiv fings, ya know ... and who in the drek was them guys ?"
The questions suddenly begin to flood Remy's mind and he tries to blurt them all out in one go, for fear of forgetting or of Xade leaving and not answering at least some of them

12:37:34 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn groans and slumps his head forward into his hands, the throbbing headache helping to drown out the ringing in his ears

"Frag it, I'm too old for this drek." he groans before looking up at Noland and frowning.

What the frag happened? Okay, think...I was talking to Xade then someone came in the back door, did I get hit with a concussion grenade or did someone clock me?

He runs his hand over his head checking for lumps then looks up at Noland again

"I tink I missed da party, dem fellas friends o' yours?"

12:43:19 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Noland doesn't answer, his head turning towards Xade, who shrugs. She glances from Josslyn to Remy and back.

"No, that was half the Winternight cell we've been tracking. I'm not sure how they knew, might have made us from remote surveillance, but they know we're after them. And now I can only assume that they think we're working with you or that you're providing some assistance to us."

She looks to Danny. "They don't care too much about collateral damage."

The older man shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "I'd say they got the worst of it this time. And I've got myself covered for damages. But if this is only half, what do you think the others are going to do?"

Again, Xade trades silent communication with Noland before answering Danny's question.

"Most likely the remaining members will execute whatever it is that they've been planning before trying anything offensive against us. Which makes it even more important for us to locate their base of operations and try and disrupt their plans."

She glances to Remy and Josslyn again. "Any chance you two would be up for helping us?"

00:58:17 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Savage energy raced through Kovacs' veins. Mac drank in all he had to offer, her body twisting beneath his as he bit and punched and slapped her, as if there were a vast empty chasm inside her that would never be full, never be satisfied. Rolling her over, he pushed her face into the bed, pulling her hips back, slamming into her with bruising force. Guttural grunts spilled from her mouth as he battered her with his body, changing to a sharp hiss of pain as he grabbed a fistful of hair, arching her back as he pulled her head up. His synthetic hand slipped around her throat, choking off her breath with remorseless strength. Once more she fought against him, bucking inside the ropes. But his strength controlled her, driving her relentlessly towards unconsciousness and ecstasy. Her vision began to gray out, bursts of indigo light dancing in her eyes, and just when she felt the last of her mind slipping away, the hand was gone, precious oxygen boiling through her blood as her orgasm crashed through her.

This time Kovacs had no energy left, his passion grounded out, leaving him empty. He sat back on his ankles, chest heaving, as Mac slid forward onto her side, boneless in her restraints. After a moment he ran a hand through his sweat damp hair, rolling his shoulders out before slowly picking apart the knots that held her prisoner. Long minutes passed in silence as he gently turned her body, freeing her from the ropes. Once finished, he cast them aside to be cleaned up later, curling his body against hers.

01:09:37 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Mac closed her eyes and reveled in the remnants of her endorphin high as well as having the darkest of her needs met. A slow, lazy smile pulled at the corners of her lips as Kovacs untied her. Her damp hair clung to the skin across her back like a pit of ebon snakes. She tensed up briefly as Kovacs curled up behind her, not being used to anything besides a little distance and recovery after a session. As quickly as her body went taut and she held her breath for an instant, she exhaled and melted back against him. 

"Thank you." She murmured softly as her breathing slowed and returned to a more even and steady rhythm.

Something nagged at the back of her mind as she lay there, something she needed to do but at that very moment she couldn't be bothered to remember quite what it was. She was as calm as she had been in days as she nestled back against Kovacs’ chest, the dark core of need sated, for now. Minutes passed before she sat up quickly with a sharp intake of breath as her body ached and her skin screamed back at her from all her marks. A moment of clarity.

“Frag me.” Was all Mac said as she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed heavily. It was well after midnight and she would be at least two hours past her check-in with Wayne, and that was if she left that very second. The last thing she wanted to do was bring trouble to The Underworld’s doorstep or get Kovacs pulled into her mess, and Wayne’s boys would come looking for a reason to start something if he sent them out to find her.

She swung her leather-clad legs over the edge of the bed and sat with her back to Kovacs as she steeled herself for what was to come.

“We should go.” She said flatly.

12:44:00 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn stands up, stumbles slightly as the blood rushes from his head then wanders through into Remy's room, he looks over the Ork and pats him on the shoulder

"You doing good kid?"

Remy starts to laugh but it turns into a painful coughing fit which the Autodoc rushes to fix

"I've had worse." Remy claims with a grin.

Joslyn turns to Xade, steadying himself on Remy's bed as he does so.

"Dis Winternight...I ain't 'erd nothin' 'bout dem," he starts

Frag it, I started with the Anansi drek, might as well keep it up

"Be this tha Universal Brotherhood or sumting like 'at? I 'ad enough o' dem las' time."

"Anyways, long as I can fetch me car an' got a chance ta get 'ome an grab ma bits. I'm up ta teach dese boys a lesson, long as we g'wan what's goin' on, yeah?"

Joslyn finds a chair in Remy's room with it's back to the wall and slumps into it, he takes out his commlink and sends out messages when the conversation lulls.

To Andy: Hey chummer, think I've got myself caught up in a web made of drek, will let you know when I work myself free. Any info on a group called Winternight would be helpful.

To Mob contact : Tell Sergio I've found out what happened to his boy, get him to call me.

12:47:06 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Noland glances sharply at Josslyn at the mention of the Universal Brotherhood, the only significant reaction he's exhibited all day. He remains silent, though, Xade's voice trampling over his movement.

"Similar but worse in a way. The Brotherhood were influenced by the dark magics they wielded. Winternight is driven solely by human hatred. As their name suggests, they embrace the Norse mythology and the concept of Ragnarok: the final battle between good and evil. They seek to precipitate this last war through coordinated sabotage and asymmetric warfare. Because they operate in small cells, insulated from the central organization, it makes them difficult to interdict. Destroying one cell has little to no effect on the organization as a whole. So far they've managed to move faster than law enforcement agencies, which is why other groups have stepped in to try and counteract their operations."

01:16:09 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Dungeon, Underworld, 805 112th St SE Everett‎, Seattle

Kovacs isn't sure what's bothering Mac, only that something is. As he replays the last hour in his mind, he's already dressed, boots on but not sealed, and coiling up the rope. The pistol remains close at hand until his kit is repacked and his hands are clear, then it disappears into its holster. By this time Mac is ready as well, dangerous curves once more accented by their leather coverings. Despite his fatigue, Kovacs feels the energy stir within himself again. He follows her out, pausing only when she recovers her longcoat from the check before they climb into the rover. He drives in relative silence, waiting and watching for a cue from Mac to see if she's ready to talk.

01:31:47 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – South on the I-5, Everett‎, Seattle

As Kovacs pulled back onto the I5, Mac tried to settle into the set for the drive down into Seattle, but she was a full of tense, nervous energy. She already knew Wayne was pissed, the increasing anger in his messages and threats that scrolled past her vision had verified that. She pulled her commlink from her coat pocket and quickly fired off an angry response of her own.

Call off your fraggin’ dogs Wayne, I’m on my way in. If anyone comes after me I’ll ghost for good.

Disgusted, she powered it down and quickly removed the system chip from its side before slipping them both back into her coat rather forcefully. She stared straight ahead as she gathered her thoughts and she could feel Kovacs’ eyes on her as he drove on. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before she turned to him to explain.

“It’s a work thing. They wanted me to check in at midnight, it’s after midnight and I’m not there. He’s pissed and he’s making all kinds of threats to send his boys after me if I don’t go in. Needless to say I don’t need that drek on the Underworld’s shoulders because of me, so I bounced. I just need to swing by my place and change, I’m not going in like this. I’ll just go in and deal with him, be in, out and done.”

She said the last part like she was trying to convince herself it was going to be that easy. Deep down she knew it was going to be anything but.

12:48:06 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"Ya kiddin'? Dey Vikings? Didn' see no horny helmets back dere." Joslyn flashes a wide grin but the smile quickly fades as he sees Xade and Noland don't see it as a joking matter

"Okay so dese Winternight sound like bad news an' I got a bangin' head ta repay...de counteractin' groups would be bein' you I g'wan? You a duet or you got more players in da wings?"

Joslyn stands up straighter and takes a few steps around the room, feeling steadier as the blood flow gets going through his legs.

"Now I can 'old me own in a fight..." he lets out a short laugh and rubs his head "Well, long as I don' get jumped, but gettin' in an' out quiet's me main game...Security Systems as a specialty, don' know if dat's useful but I'll 'elp if I can, what's ya next move?"

12:51:13 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"Security systems you say? That might be very useful to have around." Xade grins at Josslyn. "The next step, though, is to activate the trackers that Noland shot into the van. Hopefully they'll give us some general location information before they get fried by whatever electronic countermeasures the cell is using." She pulls out the screen to her commlink, interfacing via AR with a utility that only she can see.

The autodoc finally swings away from Remy, the last of its ministrations complete. A shiny layer of sprayseal skin covers his face and hands, the wounds beneath still red and angry but protected from infection by the synthetic dermis. Danny nods, examining the work and finding it satisfactory.

"All right, kid, I've got to head out. I've had about enough excitement for one day. Try not to get into any more trouble."

01:46:47 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 2356 E. Valley St. Apt 423, Downtown, Seattle

Kovacs brakes to a halt at the curb in front of Mac's apartment, making no sign that he was going to accompany her upstairs this time. Which suited her and her dark mood just fine. She dropped out of the truck and headed inside, anger mixed with apprehension fueling the lengths of her stride.

Her business with Wayne needed to finish quickly because it was damaging her opportunities with Kovacs. Unfortunately she was nowhere closer to an answer than she had been two nights ago when she coldly contemplated hiring the samurai to permanently remove her pimp from the equation.

02:29:16 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 2356 E. Valley St. Apt 423, Downtown, Seattle

It wasn’t until Mac was well inside her apartment and the door had been slammed closed rather loudly that she let her guard down a little. She slumped against the back of the door and sighed heavily. She was facing the crossroads that she had hoped she could put off just a bit longer and she was going to have to deal with it alone. She closed and opened her eyes slowly silently wishing it would somehow change the situation she faced.

With every minute that ticked off the clock Mac was that much closer to being back under Wayne’s thumb. She likened the feeling of angst blossoming inside of her to how someone must feel who was about to be turned over to jail to serve their sentence. That's what The Stable had become for her, a prison. Angst and anger fueled her across the room as a plan started to form in her head, a half-assed one at best. Mac took a few seconds to call a cab to her front door in 20 minutes before she crossed the distance of the small apartment.

She pulled her bed away from the alcove it was tucked in and sat on the floor of the now empty space. Her eyes ran along the baseboards of the wall until it settled on an exact spot, just in front of a worn out gouge in the laminate flooring. She stuck her fingernails under the edge of the baseboard and clawed at it until it gave way. In the wall was a hole just big enough for Mac’s hand to squeeze through. Reaching in and fumbling behind the plasterboard she pulled out four certified credsticks and a handful of dust and spiderwebs.

She looked at the sliver sticks and her heart sank. She was looking at everything she had saved. She laughed bitterly as Kovacs’ words rang through her head. ” Money comes and goes. Don't ever get used to hanging on to it.”

She shook her head and sighed before she scooped up the credsticks and gripped them tightly before she replaced the piece of baseboard she had pried up. She pushed her bed back in place and quickly traded her clothes from her club wear to a simple pair of jeans, a tank top and her motorcycle boots. She pulled her hair back off her face into a simple ponytail which made her look much younger before she threw her longcoat over the top of everything and slipped the credsticks into the front pocket of her jeans.

She did a final inventory of herself, slipping her ceramic stiletto blade in its sheath before sliding it into her left motorcycle boot so only she would know it was there. She wasn't about to go into her "negotiations" with Wayne unarmed or unprepared.

“Here goes nothing.” She said to an empty room before she squared her shoulders and opened the door to step back into the hallway.

03:03:27 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

When the cab was about five blocks out from The Stable, Mac popped back in her system card into her commlink and “Josie” was back online. She hesitated for a moment inside the relative safety of the cab as it pulled up outside before forcing herself to open the door and step out onto the sidewalk.

The ID broadcasting from her commlink caused the interior security doors to unlock as she approached them as soon as the cameras matched her face to the ID. She walked through the modern lobby and past the reception desk where she nodded to the bookers on duty. She went to the hallway on the left of reception and walked down until she was face to face with Wayne's security.

She could see the sneers on Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb’s faces as she approached, and they both enjoyed giving Mac an overly thorough pat down before they let her enter his office. She didn't take the seat in front of Wayne's desk when he gestured to it, his anger only showing in his eyes, which meant she had to be extra cautious. Instead she remained standing and placed her hands on the edge of the desk. His security lingered just outside the open door and Wayne raised an eyebrow at her. As he opened his mouth to speak she cut him off with the heavy sound of the credsticks hitting the top of his desk.

"I want out."

Mac added to the intensity of her statement and the cash by pulling out the system card out of her commlink containing her working credentials and added it to the pile.

03:05:41 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Wayne didn't even look at the credsticks on his desk.

"Well it's about fraggin' time you got here, sweetmeat. I don't know what kind of program you think you're on, but you need to get your priorities straight. You work for me! You work when I say, you work where I say, you work who I say. Your hoop belongs to me!"

Mac felt her lips curl in a snarl, the hackles on the back of her neck up as Wayne lunged upright from the desk, his face red, eyes ablaze with anger.

"Out? OUT!? There is no out! Not for you! Not until I say!"

03:07:37 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Go frag yourself you arrogant prick…

Where the other girls might have flinched at Wayne’s show of anger, Mac sat there impassively and waited until the “show” was over. She slowed her breathing to keep herself still, her eyes locked on his face as the rest of her senses split their attention between the man in front of her and the two behind her that she couldn’t see, but she could feel nearby. What they could do to her concerned her more than what Wayne might try.

One more long, slow, conscious breath in to remove any trace of the anger, venom and malice she felt towards the man in front of her. Her fingers twitched momentarily at her side as she thought of her knife in her boot, but she made no move to reach for it. She slowly released the breath between her lips before she spoke, her voice a calm purr, as much as she could force it, her body language reading docile and compliant.

“I figured you would have taken advantage of this opportunity, baby. To rid yourself of the biggest thorn in your side, the biggest headache you have in your house. Here I was giving you the opportunity to alleviate the problem, make some extra cash in the process and if you want to take all the credit for my departure, have at it. But there is one thing you need to be crystal clear about sugar…”

Mac leaned in slowly, her hands resting on the edge of Wayne’s desk as her body language became ever more predatory and malice crept back into her voice.

“You. Do. Not. Own. Me. Not anymore Wayne. The sooner you accept that, the better off we’ll all be.”

12:51:13 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"Trouble? Me? Aww Unkah Danny ... dis likes you not knows me at all anymore"
Remy makes an invisible halo sign around his head with his good hand and grins at his friend as he leaves,
"Hey Danny ... Umm... Sorry .... I mean .. about da shop and ... well about everything!"
He looks at a loss for words for once and shrugs apologetically.

"So now dats da murdering doc has finished me .. I is good as new!" Remy turns to the others
"I is also finkin' dat mebbe quiet an' sneaky might be more to my strengfs than maybe gun fights... I's finkin' I totally leaves da gun fights ta Noland!"

He looks at the big ork who stares back with a a stony expression, then Xade and finally Joslyn
"What'd I miss Chummer ?"

12:52:15 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn looks up as Remy starts speaking

"Robot done wit de stabbin'? How you feel?" he nods over to Xade

"Apparently, dem guys at de shop were some kinda Viking group out ta set off de apocalypse...can't say I 'eard o' dem afore now but dey sound like bad news."

He nods at Noland

"De Chatterbox yonder stuck trackers on dem, Xade waitin' for a signal."

After catching Remy up, Joslyn looks to Noland then Xade

"Don' know if you know dis but dem Winternight boys were lookin' for coolin' units, old tech, dunno why. Also, dey had some creepy kid talkin' for dem earlier on, had white cybereyes...you know of 'im?"

As they wait for Xade's tracking to finish, Joslyn loads up some work files on his commlink and starts working through a set of photos and videos he took at a client's business, marking problem areas and jotting down notes about how to fix them and estimates on price, once he's done, he sends it through to Andy.

Workup on Darcy's Talismongers, they really need to get rid of the window in the back but Darcy didn't seem keen, maybe replace with security glass.

03:10:46 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Wayne seemed ready to continue with his screaming tirade, his face blotchy and red. Then, with the suddenness of a door slamming, all the energy seemed to drain from him. He dropped back into his chair and ran a hand through his greasy hair. He finally glanced at the pile of credsticks on the table, idly sorting through them. Then his eyes lifted to meet Mac's gaze. He shook his head.

"You sad, silly little girl. You think you have things figured out, do you? All right. I can feel the ulcer that you're giving me. Get the frag out of here. You've got thirty minutes to get your stuff out of your place and vanish from this building. Don't let me catch you sniffing around here anymore. And don't even think about crawling back here, begging for your place back when all your great plans fall through. I've got nothing left for you. I've seen it all before, sweetmeat. They all think they've got the world wired, but you don't know what it's like to be out in the jungle on your own. You'll see, though. You'll see."

Reaching into the drawer of the desk, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey, taking a healthy slug before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Glancing up, he sees Mac hasn't moved.

"What the frag are you waiting for? Get outta here!"

03:39:22 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac blinked a few times taking in the fact that in an instant Wayne had just let her go without much more of a fight. It didn’t sit right with her and her guard went up ten-fold. When he yelled one last time for her to get out of his office, she glanced up to the security cameras in his office on a hunch as a smile played on her lips as she turned on her heel and made the most of the thirty minutes she had left within the building.

Mac breezed past Wayne’s bodyguards one last time and made a beeline down the hall to the elevator, punching in her code to take her to the 6th floor and the room she had shared with Holly Anne for the last three years. As the maglock on the door registered her fingerprints and released, she stepped through the door into the dorm-like space only to find herself alone. Her goodbyes to Holly Anne and Frankie would have to come another day, if ever. Mac was surprised at how much that realization stung.

With a long exhale of breath she quickly got to work packing what she could and what she wanted to take into a duffel bag she pulled out of the back of the closet. Clothes, jewelry, makeup, all of it got stuffed haphazardly into the bag as she checked and re-checked that she got everything that was hers out of the space. The last thing to leave the apartment with her was a small digital frame that rotated photos of her and the girls of The Stable. Satisfied she had everything, Mac stepped back out into the hall of the 6th floor and let the door close behind her for the last time. With each step she took away from her room, the weight that had been lingering on her shoulders started to lift.

The ride back down to the lobby in the elevator felt like an eternity. When the doors opened, she nearly exploded out of them, her attention focused so tightly on the front door and her freedom. She fully expected the doors to lock her back in as a cruel joke, but she was relieved when she hit the bar that they opened and she was promptly hit with the cold January air once she was on the sidewalk.

Once she was clear of the building, her bag slung over her shoulders she turned back to take one more look at the set of doors that would never open to her again and smiled ruefully. Josie Arlington was no more. Now, she needed a way back to her place and a way out to Renton, all within 4 hours, she had an 8am appointment she had to keep. It was going to be a long day.

03:40:53 Thursday 11 January, 2063 - The Stable, 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac turns back to the street, taking a deep breath of the chill night air and relishing her newfound freedom. She glances up and down the street, hoping to see one of the taxis that normally haunt the area, ferrying in the customers seeking less than legal entertainment for the night. Unfortunately the street is deserted, and she resigns herself to having to hoof it for a couple of blocks to one of the more well travelled arteries.

A noise to her right, though, derails those plans. Around the corner comes a trio of Halloweeners, faces painted in garish orange and white greasepaint. All three of them are armed: a length of bike chain, a pipe, and a set of knives. They fan out a bit as they approach, keeping a meter between them so they won't foul each other if it comes to a dustup.

The middle one grins, revealing a mouth full of teeth filed to sharp points. "Hey, party girl. Wanna party?"

03:42:17 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac cursed violently under her breath as she assessed the situation. Three on one, she was outnumbered physically since they were all carrying. She chastised herself for not making her knife more accessible before she left the building as it remained hidden inside her boot.

There was no point in turning around and looking for refuge at the chrome and glass doors behind her, even if the bookers at the front desk saw her in trouble, Wayne would have already made her persona non grata and there would be hell to pay if they opened the doors to her, besides if she did that Mac would just be proving his point.

She shifted the weight of her duffle bag further back on her shoulder, giving her a bit more leverage if she needed to use it for any reason but tried to keep the rest of her body language chill, she didn’t want to escalate this faster than necessary if at all.

She tilted her head as her eyes raked over each one of the gangers in turn, mentally sizing them up for a fight but playing it off like she approved of what she saw.

“Depends sugar, what kind of party are you offering?” Her voice was a throaty purr as she tried to keep control of the situation, doubting she’d make it a block in the reverse if she chose to run.

12:54:28 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Something electric passes through both Xade and Noland at the mention of the child with the strange eyes. Joslyn picks up on it, filing the information away for later, but Remy is still too preoccupied with putting himself back together after the attentions of the autodoc.

Xade shrugs. "No idea what they might want it for, but clearly it's something that's critical to their plan. If you guys are ready, we'll bring the trackers live and see where the trail leads."

She motions for Noland, and the tall ork disappears out the back door, headed for their truck. She unrolls the screen from her commlink, working in AR for a moment to execute the commands, then waiting for the data to return.

03:42:49 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

"The good kind of party," says a voice from behind her, and Mac risks a glance over her shoulder. A cold knot forms in her stomach as she sees two more gangers round the corner. The one who spoke had a pair of brass knuckles, his eyes glinting hard and cold as he ran his fingers over them. The other simply leered at Mac, his eyes wide in drug-induced psychosis.

"Yer buddy Wayne sez yer a real hot ride. A real tasty treat. Well I am to get me some o' that sugar, sweetness."

The five gangers close in on Mac.

12:54:28 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Remy tenderly rotates his shoulder, testing for any tears in the synthetic skin, either the drugs are just that good or the robot patched him up well.
MY vote is goin to da drugs the thought bringing a small smile to his dry lips.

Reaching over to take a drink of water he listens to Joslyn and the other speaking, it's all new stuff to him, 'Winternight', Vikings and multinational gangs.
This drek is getting heaaveee! another smile and he tries to stand, the covering holds but pulls on frayed and still tender patches of flesh and he winces audibly.

"I's okay, just getting away from the kill-bot here before it take more lumps outta me!"
he waves away any offered help to stand and begins retrieving his personal gear and begins the slow process of dressing.

Holding up his favourite "Bull" tee with the new holes and blood stains on it he groans at the loss and tosses it towards the trashcan, failing in his current state to get it close and kicks it the rest of the way angrily.

"I dunno bouts you, but how the hell do we swat dese vikings ?"
he hisses, the anger in his voice building as he recalls the damage not only to him and his person but also to his Uncles livelihood as he knows it.

"and, who da hells are yous guys anyways ? one of dem organisations you say trying to keep 'em down.. you ain'ts no law enforcment !"

He almost tries to look Xade in the eye with the question but realises meeting that look would be bad for him so concentrates on fastening his boots onto his feet and staring at the checkered floor. half hoping for an answer and the other half not really wanting to know how deep he is getting himself.

[ignore - mis posted sorry]

12:58:49 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Xade shakes her head dismissively. "Law enforcement, what a laughable concept. No, we're independent contractors working for a concerned organization. The exact names don't matter, just that we're on the right side this time. Winternight has to be stopped."

She glanced down at her commlink screen before sharing the data to Noland with a flip of her hand. He nods.

"They're in Everett. Or at least that's where the van stopped. They may have ditched the vehicle or they might have fried the trackers. But it's our best bet now. You two on board?"

12:59:49 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"Yeah, I'm in!" Remy responds on reflex, not even thinking about it really, his head full of the days events and dulled by painkillers.
When he realizes what he has said he looks at Xade and adds "But, I's got no gear and ..Drek .. no job!"
His jaw drops as his train of thought reaches it's ultimate destination Frag, Danny's place is gone, what the actual frag, man!

The thought hovers there adding a confused look to his face which Xade immediately picks up on
"Your Uncle right ? He seems to be doin okay, he's been around the block and come out with his skin, not your responsibility kid!"

It's a reasonable notion but Remy still feels uneasy and mostly responsible, despite the assurances that Danny has more than a few tricks up his sleeves

"Okay, I gots ya, so's ... where do we start?..... and ... can we stop by Pizza-Shack? I'm starved!"
the wicked smile returns to his face

13:00:02 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn nods as Remy talks, feeling a twinge of guilt for having brought attention to the store.

"I'm de same as de kid," he remarks "No gear." he gestures at his clothes, the oil stained work clothes he'd grabbed from the bottom of his wardrobe this morning, hardly what Joslyn would want to die in.

If I'm getting killed by fragging Vikings I'm gonna do it with some style at least...Frag, this day's gone downhill

"You plannin' ta hit 'em soon as? If not, I can go grab me car an we two can go get dressed more right."

He brings up his contact details on his commlink and gestures for it to share with Xade and Noland

"Then you call when you got de location," he shrugs "If we got ta rush, I tink we'll be a liability as we are."

13:02:19 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

"No, not right away. We'll need some time to get organized. I've got your number, I'll link you an address and we'll rendezvous there at...1500?" Xade double checks the time and glances to Noland, who nods. Two hours would be plenty of time to gear up and run enough surveillance to get them through the door of the Winternight safehouse. She visually measures Remy against Noland and Josslyn to her own lanky frame.

"We've got a bit of extra kit weapons-wise if you need the firepower, but I don't think any of our gear will fit you."

13:02:19 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Joslyn checks thee time on his commlink

"Two hours? Yeah...don' worry 'bout gear, I got some stuff back at mine."

He turns to Remy

"I'm gon' go fetch me car, you need a lift?"

13:02:19 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - 2820 Fontanel Ave, Redmond, Seattle

Remy looks around and then grabs his charred and burnt jacket

"Yeah, please ... back to the shop, I hopes my bike survived out the front !"

13:36:08 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - Seattle

Arrangements completed, Xade and Noland embark their truck and head out into the city, preparations underway for initial surveillance followed by a hard hit against whatever safehouse Winternight was using. Minutes after they depart, the taxi summoned by Joslyn arrives. The cabbie doesn't blink at the circuitous route outlined, stopping first by the remains of Danny's pawnshop before heading off to Joslyn's residence. Remy discovers that his bike survived the destruction of the pawnshop along with the subsequent arrival of both the Metroplex Fire Department and Lone Star. A few curious onlookers still remain, watching as the investigators sift through the rubble, a single news drone orbiting overhead. Remy makes a quick entrance and exit, pausing only long enough to glance back at the wreckage one time before heading back to his place.

03:42:52 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac doesn't know if it's luck, skill on her part, or sloppiness on their part, but she suddenly finds herself outside the collapsing ring of opponents.

Maybe Kovacs' training is working?

But she didn't have time to ponder the reason too deeply. Knife in hand she sprinted across the street, booted feet pounding the pavement hard on her heels. She risked a glance over her shoulder as she plunged into the alleyway, and the sight chilled her. Of the five racing after her, two were already within arms reach, their eyes glittering eagerly at the violence to come. Shifting her balance, Mac readied herself. This was likely going to hurt, and most definitely going to be fatal for someone. A crazy smile twisted her lips as she sucked in a deep breath. At her next step she was going to twist and bury her blade hilt deep in the nearest target. After that she'd figure out what to do with what came next.

She took a step.

The world exploded silently.

Light, as brilliant as the noonday sun blazed down the narrow alleyway, revealing in stark detail the worn and cracked brick walls, the rotten lumps of trash and urban detritus strewn about, the six figures frozen in their poses of violence. Suppressed gunfire cracks out, bullets snapping through the air around Mac. Blood mists from the gangers, their faces slowly transforming from looks of rage to pain and bewilderment. They're dead on their feet and not knowing it. Mac stumbled, her pivot and thrust thrown off, turning more into a pivot and dodge.

She finds herself on the ground, shoulder against one of the walls, her hip and knee smarting from where they halted her slide. The light dims to a fraction of its earlier intensity, and she can see the heavy corporate luxury sedan parked at the end of the alleyway. Broad figures in armor slip forward, assault rifles steaming in the chill night air. They probe the bodies lying clumped along the pavement, checking for signs of life before returning to stand over her, weapons at the ready. Mac very deliberately put her knife away.

"Excellent decision," chuckled an urbane voice from beyond the ring of soldiers. Two of whom step back to admit entrance to their leader. Mac watches as a pair of Italian wingtips make their way across the concrete, stopping in front of her. The suit above the shoes is tailored Tres Chic, easily worth as much as the vehicle idling at the end of the alleyway. The eyes that meet her gaze are equally cold, and the smile that twists his lips is as predatory as she has ever seen.

"Good evening," says de Medici. "We haven't been introduced yet, but you may call me de Medici. I'm going to help you out, but first you're going to help me out. I'm not quite sure what Kovacs sees in you, but clearly you have some influence with him. So you're going to help me hire him for a job."

03:43:47 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac blinked slowly as de Medci spoke, coming to terms with all that just happened. Fragments of the other night flashed behind her eyes. Inspire. Redmond. The snow. The blood. Shaking off the memory she boldly looked up and held his gaze from beneath her lashes. Already she didn’t like him and his far too expensive suit.

She made her movements slow and deliberate, as she splayed her fingertips against the crumbling asphalt of the alley and shifted so she was sitting up with her back against the wall. Both literally and figuratively. She desperately wanted a cigarette to take the edge off her nerves, but thought better of reaching for the pack in her inner jacket pocket. She drew one more breath, trying to keep her agitation from bleeding through to her voice.

“And if I were to say no?” She poised the question and de Medici didn’t have to speak a word as his flank of soldiers made the answer brutally clear as their grips shifted noticeably on their assault rifles, and Mac is quick to acquiesce and change her tune slightly.

“I’m flattered you think I have so much sway with Kovacs, and believe me I’m grateful for what you just did… “ She forced herself to relax slightly back against the wall even though her body was tense and still primed for a fight.

“But if you want me to help you get him to work for you again? I’m going to need to bring back more details than “a job” to convince him.”

14:36:22 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - apartment 1313 @ 508 NE 97th Pl, Redmond, Seattle

Pulling into the drive and gently bumping up the kerb into the cover of the overhang Remy kills the low thrum of the engine and sits quietly.
The plinking tinny sound of the engine cooling adds a pleasing staccato to the quietness of the suburbs.

Man, I must be dreamin'.... 'cept I know I ain't he muses and tests the medical skin covering his shoulder once more,
wincing as it reaches the edge of it's elasticity and pulls on the tender flesh underneath "Gnnnnhh!"
the electric shock of pain still takes him by surprise even though it is self inflicted, but confirms the fact that This is totally Kansas and not some weird emerald city where dwarves rule and magic witches cast evil spells.. well, actually the line has been blurred in recent decades ..but still the point stands, he isn't imagining recent events.

He jumps off the bike and leaves it steaming as drops of melted snow fall onto the hot metal hissing.
The door to the building clatters open and he takes two steps in to press the lift summon button, before having to return to close it in the blistering cold breeze just cause some Drek-Head broke the auto-closer.

As the turbo-lift arrives he steps in alone and hits the button for his floor, the doors begin to close and he examines himself in the scuffed reflective surface on the wall between two opposing gang graffiti tags "Tower Jackers" and "Dread Wolves" Jeez', so original he smirks to himself, glad that his Uncle managed tio somehow keep him free of the influence of these local street thugs.

"Misstah Rembrandt !" the voice from behind him catches Remy completely unaware and he almost jumps in the air in shock, spinning on his heel to face Mrs. Akira as she stares open mouthed at the state he is in.
"You need special tea! you come now" the walking cane swings up with lightning speed and with pinpoint precision hits the floor button that her apartment occupies
Remy thinks about declining the offer, but recognises his chances of escape to be Very slim !
"I's fine 'onest!" He pleads but she glares stony faced at him
"Your Unkah Danny, he say you need looked after!" she states as if that explains everything, which for the most part it does and Remy droops his shoulders in resignation.

The apartment is the same size as his own he is sure but the tiny asian woman manages to squeeze ten times as much stuff, from a lifetimes accrual of memories there is a remarkable amount that sits on or hangs from shelves and cupboards of all shapes and sizes, Saves decoratin' if you can't see the walls I guess

Mrs. Akira navigates the place, stumping around with her cane dodging books piled high and looking as stable as a house of cards yet solid as a rock until Remy gets withing half a foot where they begin to topple, he lunges to try and save the inevitable momentum but only helps send ancient paper magazines all over the floor.
"Leave that! it's okay" Her tone is now soothing and compassionate compared to her usual brusque means of communication, Remy does his best to stack them in an untidy pile and leaves them not without noting the date and the cover title <Martial Arts Weekly 2010> She IS a fraggin' Ninja ! That explains it
He's almost shocked to see some kind of confirmation, but puts it aside as maybe it was one of her siblings.

"You sit now and have tea!" Mrs Akira appears from the kitchen carrying a small tray in one hand that bears two small china cups and a steaming pot of fluid
setting the items on a low table she sits opposite Remy and performs a brief almost innoccuous ritual of pouring tea before passing him a cup "drink slow, tastes like drek but is good" she cackles a happy little laugh and sips the tea.
Remy looks down and the clear green liquid and then takes a sip, it's warm and bitter but somehow soothing and he breathes out, relaxing almost instantly.
the aroma is as sweet as the drink is bitter and he wafts it under his nose, savouring it.
"Thanks missus Akira, not had chance to ... think... yet .... toos..daaayy..." he slurrs his wirds as the tea takes effect, the mild sedative aiding his aching body in finding rest.

Wan light shining through the blockaded window drag Remy from his slumber
"Whaaaa tha Drek ?" he rubs his skull expecting to be rubbing away the effects of an adrenaline hangover, but he is surprised to feel wide awake
as if he had slept for a week, when actually, looking at his bedside clock, it had only been about an hour
"Wait a what the who now ?" he looks around again and recalls falling asleep in the comfy chair downstairs, yet now here he was, fully undressed in his own room with fresh bandages over the synth skin covered wounds held on with Mega-glue sterile adhesive .. he knows this as the tube is still on his bedside table.

Note to self .. old lady is a miniaturised TROLL ... how the drek did she carry me up here?
He checks the time and looks at his comm, missed calls and messages from Xade and Joslyn but only a few minutes ago
"Drek, wheres my clothes?"

14:39:22 Tuesday, 09 January 2063 - apartment 1313 @ 508 NE 97th Pl, Redmond, Seattle

Xade's voice, tinny and electronic thanks to her encryption, sounds over his commlink as Remy rummages through the unkempt piles of clothes in his apartment, seeking something both reasonably clean and suitably subdued for the evening's activities.

"Remy, meet us in the parking lot of the Home Improvement Warehouse, 2400 Hewitt Ave, Everett. We'll be in the southwestern corner."

Saving the message for later, especially since it was from her, Remy finally managed to get himself dressed and ready to go. Luckily the weather was holding, the skies threatening but withholding snow for the time being. The wind was biting, though, and he was glad for the warmth leaking from his bike's engine as he once more headed out onto the streets.

14:27:08, Tuesday, 09 January 2063. Spider Security Systems, 1149 Cherry Street, Downtown Seattle

"It's all bad news," cautioned Andy as Joslyn sorted through the kit he planned on taking with him.

"Winternight is a vicious organization. My analysis indicates that Interpol's assessment is accurate to within eighty percent. The organization is led by a pair of Awakened individuals, followers of the Norse traditions. They're veterans of two or three Eurocorps, having last worked with AG Chemie Europa as troubleshooters during the offseason and company commanders during the Desert Wars of 56 and 58. According to some of the manifestos posted on the matrix, they received an apocalyptic vision on December 21st, 2058. Together they abandoned the corporation to found Winternight. Operating in insulated cells, it's difficult to determine just how many personnel Winternight commands, but average estimates put the numbers between 60 and 100. All of them highly trained in urban asymmetrical combat operations, all of them fanatically loyal, all of them bat-drek crazy."

The slim decker glanced over at Joslyn, his eyes lingering on the weapons laid out on the desk. "This isn't a consulting trip you're embarking on."

"Relax, Andy, this isn't my first rodeo." Despite his admonishment, Joslyn could feel the restless stir of adrenaline through his blood. This little adventure with Remy, Xade, and Noland was liable to get a bit dicey.

03:47:52 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

de Medici laughs, a cold sound in the cold air. "Don't get your panties in a twist. When the time comes, I'll have all the information you'll need to convince him that it's a good idea. And the best part of it is, you'll never even have to mention my name."

He crouched down in front of Mac, eyes glittering in the harsh light from the town car's headlights. Deftly plucking her commlink from her jacket pocket, a gesture she deliberately made no attempt to stop, he plugged a small gray box into the OMC port. After a moment, an LED lit green, and he disconnected the device. Handing the commlink back, he stood.

"There. Now I have your number, and you have mine. Expect my call."

He glances around before fixing Mac with one last look.

"Don't try any games either, little girl. You and your boyfriend are valuable tools to me. But you are still only tools. A tool that does not do the job I need it to do will be discarded and replaced."

de Medici's tone leaves little to the imagination as to what will happen to discarded tools. The smile once more appears on his face.

"Have a good evening, or should I say, good morning."

Turning, he strides to the car. The corporate soldiers fall back in practiced formation, half of them splitting off to enter a separate vehicle. As suddenly and soundlessly as they arrived, they're gone, leaving Mac alone with five bodies rapidly approaching ambient temperature.

03:52:11 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Outside 620 Stewart Street, Downtown, Seattle

Mac looked around the now empty alley and let go of the breath she had been holding since before she could remember. The ice cold pavement below her now damp coat was a sharp counterpoint to the warm bile that rose in the back of her throat as she took in the bodies strewn about the alley way.

Not wanting to stick around any longer in case anyone came sniffing around or the heat came down, Mac rose on slightly unsteady legs and gathered herself and her things while a million scenarios, none of them pleasant, ran through her head.

She buttoned up the front of her longcoat, dropped her chin and made her way out of the alley at the most “natural” pace she could muster, something that was just shy of a run. Half of her wanted to rabbit right there and then, but another part of her knew that wasn’t an option. Her blood ran as cold as the air around her. If de Medici could follow her, find her like he just did, it meant he had been watching her. But for how long was the question…

The last place Mac wanted to go that very moment was back to her apartment. The harsh reality was that de Medici probably already knew where she lived, but she didn’t feel like she could go home. Home no longer felt...safe. She was extra paranoid as she kept walking to a now unknown destination, her eyes scanned the streets around her constantly and she tossed more than a casual glance back over her shoulders on more than one occasion.

04:29:37 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Hotel 5, 246 Cherry St., Downtown, Seattle

Mac made her way over to 5th Avenue and headed South. She doubled back on herself as much as possible while sticking to the slightly more populated main streets whenever possible. She took a right onto Cherry St. and made her way down a couple of blocks further until she stopped outside Hotel 5. A simple coffin motel trying to masquerade itself as something more high class. At least this place had a live security guard behind the front desk.

She slipped inside the mediocre lobby and tried to shake the chill that ran through her with little success. Fumbling in her front jeans pocket for the last remaining cred she had to her name, she made her way over to the automated kiosk and slotted her stick, gaining her 6 hours of access to a coffin of her very own on level 4. She could feel the guard behind the desk leering at her while she waited for the cash to be deducted from her already miniscule balance. Once she was approved, she took the stairs two at a time to put distance between herself and anyone else, especially the guard.

Finding her space on the fourth floor, she slotted her stick and felt a slight sense of relief as the lock released and she could pull open the door and climb inside. When she pulled the door tight behind her and the lock reengaged, she couldn’t help but jump slightly at the sound. Her nerves were shot and all she wanted to do was get some sleep before heading down to Renton.

Mac flipped the Trid on in her tiny pod hoping for anything to distract her and settled as far back in the space as she could press her small frame. Pulling out her commlink and setting an alarm she had another realization, what if whatever de Medici had done to provide her his number and to get hers also allowed him to know her location at any time. Cursing herself and everything she had gotten into, she powered off her commlink, shoved it deep into her bag and put her head in her hands as the sounds of the local headline news filled the small space. Eight o’clock was going to come painfully soon, with even bigger decisions to make.

07:13:49 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – Hotel 5, 246 Cherry St., Downtown, Seattle

As hard as Mac tried, sleep eluded her. As the clock rolled past 7am she resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to face whatever today brought without sleep. Digging through her bag she pulled out a few essentials and managed to rebrush her hair into a clean, high ponytail while trying to remove the remnants of last night’s makeup with one of the last wipes in her pack.

She shoved her things haphazardly back in her back and pushed the bag back against the far wall of the coffin. Not wanting to bring more trouble than she already had to Kovacs’ doorstep, but knowing she couldn’t afford to not be available if de Medici called, she shoved her commlink deep into the inner pocket of her longcoat and shimmied to the end of the coffin. She paused only to be certain the door relocked and again in the lobby to add additional time to her rental.

“What’s a few more nu I don’t have…” she muttered darkly to no one in particular.

She was grateful for the change in security who barely acknowledged her as she breezed through. Cherry St. was more alive when she stepped outside as people were headed back to work. Having realized her bike was back at Kovacs’ place, she was forced to hail a cab to take her to Renton. She fidgeted in the backseat the entire drive there. She was on edge and looking over her shoulder constantly to see if she was being followed, her hand wrapped around the blade tucked into the front pocket of her coat.

08:03:17 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac’s finger stabbed angrily at the doorbell at exactly 08:00. While she waited for Kovacs to open the door, she brought her hands to her lips and blew warm air over them to try keep from shaking.

08:05:48 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

"About time," grumbled Mac as Kovacs opened the door, allowing her to slip past and into the warmth of the house. He was already dressed in his running gear, but unlike yesterday he carried a gearslinger bag slung over his shoulder.

"Good morning to you too," he replied, closing the door behind her as she made her way down the hall to the practice room. She ignored him, dumping her gear in the corner and starting in on her stretches. She felt his gaze upon her, silently inquisitive, and cursed her fatigue. She was irritable, and every joint of her body felt like it was coated with rust. After a moment, she felt Kovacs withdraw, his face and body becoming unreadable behind the silent armor of his synthetics. They finished stretching in silence, departing the house and following the same path as yesterday.

Despite her relative fitness level, Mac struggled with the run. She'd been going for twenty four hours now, and her body reeled from the lack of rest as well as the emotional highs and lows of the day. Not to mention her most recent run-in with violence. Kovacs pulled relentlessly ahead, his body moving with a long practiced rhythm. When he realized she was having trouble, he doubled back for her, silently adjusting his pace to match hers. Mac gritted her teeth and pushed harder, her vision hazing with pain as her muscles filled with lead and her lungs burned. Rounding the last corner and seeing the house just a block ahead filled her with a relief so intense it was almost palpable. She stumbled to a halt at the base of the stoop, chest heaving.

Keying the lock, Kovacs let them inside, and they ran through some cool down stretches before moving on to a crossfit workout. Mac had recovered somewhat from the run, but her reserves were quickly exhausted and it wasn't long until Kovacs called a halt to the workout.

"Take a break," he said, gesturing towards the drone standing idle against the wall. "I'm going to work with Sam."

09:07:22 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac made a beeline to the corner of the room where her gear was stashed without hesitation, sinking to the floor beside her things and resting her head against the wall. She watched Kovacs start up the drone with mild interest through an unfocused gaze. Her eyes felt so heavy and she was finding it near impossible to keep them open. Too much more of a workout and she’d be asleep on her feet.

I’d kill for a cup of coffee right now.

Even the dull rhythmic thuds of Kovacs running through forms and landing blows against Sam became a melodic beat that she found almost soothing in its consistency, threatening to lull her to sleep.

14:28:28, Tuesday, 09 January 2063. Spider Security Systems, 1149 Cherry Street, Downtown Seattle

"Didn't you say they kicked your ass just..." Andy checked his commlink "Two hours back?"

"They caught me off guard," Joslyn protested "We'll be jumping them this time."

"Can you still jump?" Andy grinned "I thought your knees gave out a while back."

Joslyn shook his head and shrugged his lined coat over the urban camo armour suit.

"They got better." he shook his head

He's right, this is a bad idea...exciting though, fragging new body wants to get me killed

Pocketing his B&E equipment, Joslyn takes a moment to fish around the back of a drawer, pulling out a dose of Cram, he looks at it uncertainly for a moment then sighs, those guys were too fast, it's necessary, he pocketed it and gave Andy a 'don't start' look.

"It's part of the job Sergio wants done," he reminds Andy "I get this done, maybe we can to hire on someone else, get you a new server or move into security training...we need the money Andy."

Andy snorts "Bulldrek," he retorts "You're just looking for a thrill, the company's doing good and you know it."

"We're doing alright."

"What else do you need, you old fragger?" Andy sighed "Okay, you go let your drekkin' kid's body lead you around like a jackass...but if you die and leave me to do all the fragging paperwork for this place..." he hesitated for a moment, wondering what vengeance he could take on a dead man "I'll frag up your plants...I'll just open up a window and let them all freeze over."

"You're a sick man Andy," Joslyn grinned as he holstered his pistol "I'd best stay alive then."

He pulled out his commlink and quickly sent a message

"Hoi Remy, are you alright for transport or do you fancy a lift?"

Remy contemplates ditching the bike due to the freezing cold wind as it nips at him through gaps in his riding gear.

But still, his independance gets the better of him, preferring to be able to get away alone,

"Thanks Man, nearly there though, wouldn't mind sharing the warm while we stake out though, i'm grabbing Kaf if you want? Treble chocca mocha latte .. Wiv sprinkles ? .... And cake? "

09:31:47 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

It was a cessation of sound that jolted Mac awake, and she cursed under her breath, rubbing a hand across her eyes. She glanced over at Sam, hoping that Kovacs hadn't noticed. No such luck. The tall samurai stood in front of her while Sam watched her, clutching his dismembered left arm.

Kovacs folded himself into a seated lotus, sweat beaded on the skin of his arm and chest. His eyes, blank and grey, showed concern. A second of silence stretched between them as he analyzed and discarded half a dozen different ways to convey his question. He finally settled on simple neutrality.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

09:33:02 Thursday 11 January, 2063 – 35010 Von Schilling Way, Renton, Seattle

Mac chewed on her lip as she tried to buy herself some time. Trying to process a way to explain what was really going on and manage to leave out the piece about de Medici. Her reality of this morning with Wayne and the gangers alone was enough to explain the mood and the fatigue, but Kovacs would see through her managing to simply walk away from the situation unharmed. Besides, she was too tired at that very moment to sell any story she could come up with anyway.

Frag this, I’m seriously putting my life in his hands and I’m considering lying to him or at least leaving out some important details? Complete trust means complete honesty right girl?

Mac took one deep breath and recapped her morning, her words tumbling out and hitting the most important moments.

“Let’s see, after you dropped me off, I got released by my employer, basically jumped by five Halloweeners who managed to corner me into an alley and before I could do anything about it I was ever so politely extricated from that situation by a very prickish colleague of yours better known as de Medici. Half my stuff is sitting in a coffin motel in Downtown, and I don't feel safe enough to go back to my own apartment. So I think I’ve kind of earned my little nap and my mood this morning.”

14:41:40, Tuesday, 09 January 2063. Spider Security Systems, 1149 Cherry Street, Downtown Seattle

Kaf sounds good, maybe save cake for afterwards. Have you got info on the meet? I'll see you there.

Joslyn pockets his commlink and looks back at Andy.

"Stop looking at me like that," he tells the decker "I'll be fine."

"Just go," Andy replies, turning back to his work "Good luck."

Joslyn quickly goes through a final check of his gear, stopping to sign some paperwork on his way out of the office.

"You should get out more Andy," he calls out as he opens the door "You're turning into some kind of old man."

With a laugh, he closes the door behind him, Joslyn heads downstairs to the garage and, after another quick check to make sure it's okay, he hops into the Ford Spiral and haeds out.