15:40:11 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Cooper's Firearms, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"That depends, what are you up for? Are you looking short term, quick cash ops? Or would your schedule permit a long term engagement, say on the order of a couple of weeks?"

The silence in the background of Zeyda's phonecall is broken only by the muted moan of a lonely sax and the gentle tremble of a piano.

11:28:19 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

John accepts the card from the elf's gloved hand, quickly glancing at the LTG number before sticking it into his shirt pocket. "Hold on a second Max, let's think this through before you go."

Then, he turns back to Twiggy. "C'mon, kid. Can the fraggin' waterworks. That ain't helpin' nobody." Though I can't say that I feel much better.

Ignoring the dirty look Megan shot him over Twiggy's shoulder, the old runner started to count off points on his fingers. "Ok, let's see what we have. First: this clinic puts out an ad to recruit people to volunteer for some tests. For what, we have no idea, but they were payin' so most people wouldn't be asking questions.

"Second: Twiggy and Nora answer the ad, but see something shady and split.

"Third: the place realizes they've been made. Deciding to fix that, they come looking.

"Fourth: Nora get's nabbed, Twiggy here escapes and goes into hiding. But he's found again and has to run, which leads him here.

"Fifth: Keira gets the scoop and goes to check out the clinic. She either makes it back out or never goes in. Either way, they decide she knows too much and come after her.

"Did I miss anything?"

Finally pausing, John takes a deep breath and looks around, before settling on the shaman. "One thing strikes me as weird about this." At Max's raised eyebrow, he smiles grimly, "Yeah, Ok. A lot of it is weird, but why would Keira go off on her own to check this place out? Wouldn't she know it is dangerous, or is she capable of taking care of herself in some way? Is she a wiz...Sorry, Max. I mean awakened?" Looking up at the group, he added, "Anyone know?"

After listening to the response to his question, John stood. "Ok, Max's right. He obviously needs rest before anything else, as do Trancer and his Mom. Megan, can you guys take them home in your van? If so, leave a number where I can reach you guys. Twiggy, you're with me. I want to take a quick look around the Respite before you show me where the clinic is located. Everyone Ok with that?"

Reaching his hand down to help the injured elf to his feet, John said, "Thanks again, Max. As far as your meeting tonight, we should meet after if that works for you. I can go over what I've found out and give you a better link for Nora. Do you want to set up a time and place now, or just give me a call when you're done?"

13:10:09 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Casimir's Office, Condo #8, 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes sighed, slowly spinning around in the office chair. He'd already poked through the desk, coming across half a dozen OMCs, all of which were blank. He rifled through the stack of programs on the nearest shelf, but all check-summed correctly. Obviously, Casimir hadn't added any code to them. Jennifer had poked her head in for a moment, but then left again to see if she could turn up anything in her father's bedroom. Eyes completed another rotation in the chair.

If I were a brilliant but eccentric computer programmer, which I am, involved in some kind of plot? Power struggle? Love triangle? Where would I hide the document which revealed all of my secrets? he mused. His gaze settled on the framed poster as it slowly spun passed, but he quickly dismissed that as too obvious. Braking himself to a halt, he stared at the server tower again.

Maybe a separate, off-line drive? Eyes stands, then freezes.

Wait a minute. Why both a liquid cooling system and a HEPA filter? If there's no air flowing to cool the system, why does he need a filtration system for the tower? Hopping up on the desktop, Eyes examines the air filter for a moment before carefully unscrewing the top. Nestled in the narrow circular interior between the cottony wings of the filter, lies a single piece of hand-written paper.

Very crafty, Doctor, going analog like this. You'd known that if something happened whomever came looking for you would assume that the information was contained within the server. Eyes smiles, unrolling the note.

11:30:01 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

In response to John’s question about Keira, Max shakes his head no, “Keira is tough, she has to be to do what she does, but she is not magically active.”

“It would not be out of character for her to confront someone, but I would think she would know not to go there along. Maybe someone went with her?”

“Twiggy, did Keira go to the clinic herself or did she just ask around about it?” he inquires.

He waits for his answer before responding to John’s question about a meet.

“I do not know how long my meeting will take, so it would be best if I called you when it was over. We can meet at my home. I will give you directions when I call.”

He pauses for a moment before leaving.

“We will find them.”

11:33:41 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

Megan and Tyler look at each other for a moment before Megan speaks up defiantly, "We can drop them off null sweat, but you ain't goin' anywhere with Twiggy without us. They'll be out for blood against him, and it sounds like you'll be outnumbered. We may not be cybered up or whatever, but we know how to hold our own in a fight."

Softly, Twiggy chimes in, "I'll go with you, but I want my friends to come along. If I buy it helping Nora, that's cool. But I don't want to die alone."

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he looks at Max. "I don't know what Miss Keira did, she didn't tell me what she was going to do. I only got here maybe less than two days ago, so I don't know if she had a chance to do anything."

11:20:14 Wednesday 10 January, 2063, Sung’s Dojo Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS
Tony hung is dark brown Vashon three piece suit carefully on a hanger in the small, dim changing area in the back of the dojo. Changing into the workout clothes that he had brought with him, he couldn’t help but shake his head at the situation. Sam’s probably got that kid thinking I really am a banker now. Of course, that kid could also be Sung’s new star pupil as well… either way, the Star is probably on its way to arrest me for child endangerment he thought to himself with a chuckle.

Walking out into the spacious practice area of the dojo, Tony saw that the rest of the students were assembled around the main mat area, mostly kneeling and sitting in a rough square. The troll, Tyzell, was standing at one end of the area. Sam was there next to him, holding a practice pad. The kid seemed quite powerful not too hard to seem when you’re a 2 meter tall troll, but clumsy. His practice punches were slow and weren’t well timed, but every one that connected seemed to drive Sam a half step back, even with the padding.

Sung motioned to the other side of the mat, opposite from Sam and the troll. “Take it easy on the kid. He hits hard, but I doubt that he can even lay a fist on you if you don’t want him to. Oh yeah, here, have a swallow of this” he said, passing a small flask toward Tony

“So, just make him swing ‘till he’s tired?” Tony asked, stretching a little and taking a pull from the flask. Grimacing at the sweet, strong alcohol taste, he said “What the hell is this stuff, old man? You want me to breathe fire all over him?”

“That, gwai-lo, is the best mao-tai in Seattle. Guy I know makes it in his basement. You really aught to drink more than that liquid charcoal you and Sam seem to prefer.” Sung said, fitting Tony into a padded sparring helmet

“If expanding my tastes means drinking lighter fluid, no thanks. Now about the bruiser that doesn’t like me?” Tony said, bringing Sung back from the bottle.

“Just an ex-ganger, doesn’t like humans too well; thinks they’re all wimps. Mom wants him to do good, but he’s got a serious problem: he thinks he can take on the world. Take him down, but don’t leave too many marks.”

“And why not you?”

“Are you kidding? He’s huge. Plus, this will teach you not to miss an appointment. Next time, I’ll bring a real challenge,” Sung said, with a wink, moving away for the two combatants to spar.

“Kid, do you really want to go thru with this?” Tony yelled across the mat.

“Sam told me you’re some Humanist breeder that’s looking to buy out this place,” Tyzell said. Sam standing behind him, tried hard (and succeeded) to suppress a laugh. “So yeah, I’ma goin’ to take you out, fragging breeder. Probably witha one punch.” With that, Tyzell launched himself across the mat, big, long legs carrying him to striking range in a eyeblink, and swung a huge haymaker from his right side

Tony, however, was ready. Stepping inside of the punch, he used the troll’s momentum against him: grabbing Tyzell’s forearm with his right hand, Tony pivoted on his left leg, kicking the troll’s feet out from under with his right leg. Tyzell fell with a thunk onto the mat, Tony having moved back a couple of meters, stood in the wine pouring stance directly facing his opponent. Facing his opponent, he remembered a line from a movie that he used to love back in the Academy. “COBRA KAI, NEVER DIE!” Tony yelled at the top of his lungs, scaring a couple of the younger kids in the audience. Sung cracked a smile as he motioned the two combatants together.

As Tyzell got up, Tony started moving (to the causal observer) in a very uncoordinated fashion: weaving, stumbling, half falling and seeming to pull himself up by waving his arms upward; all the while closing the distance to the very distracted troll.

To Tony (and Sung and Sam), though, this movement wasn’t uncoordinated at all. It was a very calculated series of motions to distract his opponent and not allow defense against an attack that could be coming from an unusual position, all the while closing distance to be able to strike.

Tyzell, however, knew none of this. To him, it was some type of show, or maybe the human really was drunk. Either way, it was difficult for him to know where Tony was going to be with all of the swaying and irregular motion. None of his fights against other gangers had been anything like this; mostly, they were scared off by his size. When he did have to fight, it was usually quick and one-sided in his favor. Still somewhat disoriented from his fall, he launched a jab at his opponent’s head.

Tony, caught a little off guard by the troll’s jab, got a glancing blow that bounced off of the side of his head. Pushing down the ringing in his head that came thru his headgear, he landed a hard punch to Tyzell’s midsection. As if it was the next natural motion, Tony fell down on his knee and, swinging his leg around, swept the troll’s legs out from under him. This, combined with the backwards momentum from Tony’s punch, caused Tyzell to land on his upper back and head area. The troll went down hard on the thin mat, and didn’t get back up.

Sung rushed over and checked the troll. “He’s ok, just dazed. This one’s over, Tony wins,” Whispering something to the troll, the sensei helped him up. Walking over to the troll, Tony “ Good fight kid. Don’t believe everything you see, and sure as drek don’t believe everything you hear. Listen to Sung and your mom, they’ll help you if you let them.” Shaking Tyzell’s hand, Tony turned and walked back to the dressing room.

11:40:57 Wednesday 10 January, 2063, Sung’s Dojo Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

Changing back into his suit after toweling himself down, Tony saw that Sam had come into the area. “Ok, old man, what did that just prove?”
“Dunno. Troll gangers apparently aren’t too common in this neighborhood. Kid used to just mow the rest of ‘em down. Now, maybe, he’ll listen to his mom.”

“Yeah, right. At that age, I would have just learned more and came back to kick both of our hoops,” Tony said, adjusting his tie.

“Well, isn’t that what you did, in a way? And you ain’t him, he’s a scared kid with too much time on his hands.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture.

“Well, I was going to ask what you had planned for the evening, but I guess it’s babysitting Mr. Kill-them-All out there.” Tony said, changing the subject and packing his workout clothes in his satchel.

“Naw, I’ve got some plans tonight, maybe tomorrow.” Sam said. “ Try me on Friday.”

“Well well, aren’t you Mr. Ork Casanova,” Tony said, teasing.

“Shut up, kiddo, before I make you look like Tyzell. And we wouldn’t want that in front of the kiddies out there, now would we,” Sam had never had a girlfriend, to Tony’s knowledge, and didn’t like any prying into his personal affairs.

17:22:44 Wednesday, January 10, 2063, Capitol Hill Terrace, Capitol Hill, Seattle, UCAS

After making his goodbyes to Sung, Tony hung out in his flat for a while, catching up on some reruns of The Awakened World, interspersed with a smattering of Survivor, Renraku Arcology. He even had the chance to catch a catnap, waking up during the start of a rerun of last season’s Urban Brawl match.

Must have caught some motivational drek while I was asleep. Damnit, I’m going to have ‘I’m Awakened, I’m Somebody, I’m Free’ playing over and over in my fragging head now. Teach me to leave the trideo on. Tony thought to himself as he went to the fridge to get a water to clear his mouth out. Taking another shower, he smoothed out his clothing and left for the Landing, being sure to leave himself plenty of time to get there by 1800.

"I am up for anything...being a bit new to the shadows. You place me where you feel my skills are best served. Of course, if I undertake something long term, I will have to arrange something back at the shop, to cover Chavy's extra hours."

13:12:23 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Casimir's Office, Condo #8, 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes chuckled silently at the realization that the message was indeed, "containned within the server," after all. As he read it, however, his smile faded to a grimace. Yet another warning to stay away from the whole thing, this time echoed by the dead man. His eyes flicked over the note a few times, trying to pull any hidden meanings out of the text. Nothing big leaped out at him, but a few phrases caught his attention.

"...pawns advanced to the 8-TH rank," seemed to name his allies as those at Schrodinger's, which would fit with how the people there were treating him but seemed a very dangerous thing to do in a paper that may have been found by enemies.

"...the part I played in bringing about this nightmare," at least confirmed the fact that it was something that Casimir did that involved him. This along with the furnishings of this office suggested that this something was related to that murderous AI that many agree had caused the shutdown of the Renraku Arcology. It also seemed to indicate that the "nightmare" itself was still going on... but that would mean.... Eyes frowned; the words, "us mere mortals," stared back at him hauntingly, as if reminding him that there are more things out there than men and sniper bullets to be afraid of.

Shaking his head and sighing, Eyes dismissed the worry from his head. The whole idea was specious at best, and besides that there was still no evidence. Chastising himself for letting his mind run away from him, as it had so many times before, Eyes turned to show Jennifer the note. Hopefully she would call off the whole thing, pay him, and that would be that. And if she didn't, he could still inquire about taking the server home with him for study; Eyes smiled greedily at that thought.

He found her a moment later, checking under the bed in Casimir's bedroom. "Found something; take a look," he said quietly, and handed her the note as she turned around.

13:15:40 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Jennifer's hands tremble as she reads the note penned in her father's blocky, precise script. Tears spill out onto her cheeks, which she quickly wipes away. Standing, she moves to stare out the windows at the low gray clouds choking the city. Silence fills the room.

"I don't care," she says at last. "I want to know their names, Eyes. No matter what he did, my father deserved better. Find me their names."

Turning back towards him, she shivers as if suddenly cold.

"I'll pay whatever you want, you can have...anything. Just find me their names."

15:42:37 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Cooper's Firearms, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Speaking of that, I've got a guy coming by this evening with a truck that needs work. Why don't you stop by and see what he needs done? I'll check around a little and if there's anything else that comes up I'll brief you then. 1800 at the Landing."

Zeyda makes an amendment to his schedule with a quick series of keystrokes.

11:35:01 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

Quickly scribbling on a shred of paper he'd found on the floor, John turned to Max as he was preparing to leave. "Here's my number. Call when you're free. If not tonight, first thing tomorrow." And then as an afterthought, he ads, "And don't worry about the Respite here. Me and the kids'll close up and secure it the best we can."

Turning back to the others, John took a good look at where Twiggy hung off of Megan, stifling his sniffles. Up to this point, he hadn't spared the time to think about it, but with the physical similarities between the two, the obvious protectiveness, and the simple fact that Twiggy seemed younger than he had expected, he finally wondered if the two elves were related. Maybe, or maybe just good friends. Doesn't really matter, I guess. Whatever the case, I can't be draggin' all these kids around with me everywhere I go. What am I, a fraggin' chaperone?

Obviously starting to grow uncomfortable under his silent scrutiny, Megan finally says, "Well, old man? You gonna answer or stand there starin' at us?"

"Ok, Ok. Can't a guy get a fraggin' minute to think?" He paused to light a cigarette before continuing. "Alright, let's lay it out. We got a lot that needs doin' and the quicker the better, right? So, we need to split up, at least for a while. Now before you get all upset, just listen. You and Tyler can come with us when Twiggy shows me the clinic, but not the whole group. This is going to be a recon mission, right? All covert like. Which are just fancy ways of sayin' that we don't want to be seen. If we roll up in a van-load of kids think someone will notice?"

Taking a pull off of the cheap Korean nico-stick, John lets that sink in a bit before continuing. "Besides, we got other things that need doin' too. Someone has to take Trancer and Melina home to get some rest. I know they wanted to stay and help, but they can barely stand. Also, someone needs to stay here, keep a watch so the Respite don't get looted. Maybe clean up. Now, I may be able to get some help on the watching, but it sure would be easier to use the people we already got here."

Tyler looks at the others before replying, "A'ight. Makes sense, I guess. What're you thinkin'?" Megan quickly adds, "Not that we're sayin' yes or nothin."

Flashing his typical half-smile, John says, "No, of course not. Here's my plan, subject to modification. Tyler here takes one other guy and drives those guys home. While they do that, we stay here and have a look around. The other guys keep watch and clean up, whatever. When Tyler gets back, we go to the clinic."

Finally pulling away from Megan, Twiggy wipes his nose with his shirt. "What about me?"

"Like I said, you stay here with me and Megan. Then we go to the clinic." Squatting down, John looks the young elf in the eye before continuing. "And kid? You're not going to die. I'm gonna do my best to see that no one hurts you. Ok?" When he nods, the older man gets back to his feet before looking around at the rest of the group. "Well? What do you say? Should we get started?"

13:15:40 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes sighed inwardly. Well so much for the easy route. I guess nothing is ever easy.

He carefully did not think about the "whatever you want" part of Jeniffer's words; thinking on them threatened to bring a greedy, coniving grin to his face which was not only inappropriate, but slightly frightening in its sudden intensity. Look at you, acting like a money-grubbing shadowrunner already whispered a little voice in his head, which he ignored just as thoroughly. Instead, he nodded gravely and said in as dispassionate a voice as possible, "All right then; back to work I guess." Giving what he hoped was an sympathetic grin--because really, what she was going through was pretty horrible--he headed back to the office.

"All right then," he said to no one in particular, "First thing's first." Checking through Casimir's own microtronics tools, Eyes picked out a few of the ones he knew would be necessary. Checking to see if the server was unplugged, he got to the (hopefully) quick and easy task of stripping down the machine and looking for booby traps. With the note in the filter it was even less likely that the machine actually had any useful information, but it was still a possibility, and one he wanted to check out, in a place where he had the proper equipment to do so. But first he had to make sure it didn't have any special surprises waiting for fools who would just try to jack in or snag the thing without looking first.

13:32:08 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

After a careful initial scan, Eyes got down to the nitty gritty of taking apart the Enova. The system was in excellent condition, well put together, and probably ran like greased lightning. One by one the components came free from the rack to be layed out on ESD film on the floor before being packed into the padded foam case Eyes found in the closet. Jennifer came in when he was almost done, watching him from the doorway before crossing to her father's desk. She touched the poster with her fingertips, brushing them across the handwritten note, before lifting the Magic 8-Ball from the desktop. Shaking it, she stared at the small circular window before setting it back down on the desk.

"Stupid thing is broken."

17:47:44 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony walks into the Landing, shaking off the cold of the walk from the parking deck. Even with the thick snow on the ground outside, the restaurant downstairs is doing decent business for a Wednesday; the occasional outburst from a group of businessmen, maybe telling the punchline of a joke or punctuating an agreement, echoed above the sounds of people dining.

Even on the walk toward the stairs, Tony could hear Aria's melodic voice, singing a jazz tune that Tony had heard before, but could not name. A few minutes early for his meet with Zedya, Tony still noticed that the fixer was in his usual position in a booth opposite from the bar, ear pressed up to a phone. Never am going to get here earlier than him. Maybe he really does live here. And, perched where he can see anyone that comes in. Nice trick. Taking his cue, he ordered a double bourbon, and enjoyed its warmth and the calming music untill the fixer motioned him over.

"Evening, hombre," Tony said, sliding into the booth across from the fixer. "Don't want to have to take up more of your time than necessary, so here's the pitch: know anyone that want's a truck? Or, if you know the Johnson from my last job, maybe you would want to ask him if he would like his vehicle back?"

11:35:01 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

Max took the piece of paper from John and slid it into his pocket.

“Thanks John.”

Debris crunches beneath his feet as Max tries to avoid the overturned tables and chairs on his way to the day. He nods to one of the kids standing guard. “Take a look inside, Keira keeps a few extra blankets in the utility closet. There is no use freezing our here if you don’t have to.” He boy gives him a grateful nod of his head and bolts inside to grab a blanket for him and his friend.

Max looked up into the grey sky at the light snow that had begun to fall.

‘I think this is the first time I have seen the snow since I moved here.’ He thought. The last time Max had been in the snow was when he lived with his parents. They had taken yearly skiing trips to one of the many resorts in the Sierra’s in his youth. The last time they were to take one of those trips was Max’s senior year in high school, He had wanted to bring along his girlfriend. A beautiful young girl named Melissa, but when his parents found out she was an elf they absolutely forbid it. They fought for hours over it, until his parents cancelled the trip completely and nearly through him out of the house. It was the moment Max finally realized just how deep his parents hate ran and that they would never change. They never went to the snow again.

Max was a little surprised at how much it still hurt him to think about his parents. He had looked to put all of that behind him here in Seattle and had thought that he had been doing a pretty good job, but standing there in the falling snow brought it all back to him. He looked at the gloves that hid his clawed hands. He had always said that he covered them up to keep from startling others, but he couldn’t help thinking that maybe he was still hiding them from himself. Keira had been an elf since birth and she was one of the few that had tried to help him adjust to his change, though they both knew that he was not really an elf she had done the best that she could and now she was gone. Brushing away an errant snowflake that had falling onto his cheek, Max walked towards the alleyway and his car, lost in thought and pain.

17:53:16 Wednesday 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Thanks for stopping by, omae. Your Johnson didn't make any mention of the truck so I figure it's your's to do with as you please. Sit tight, though, as I've got another one of my client's stopping by. He knows a good mechanic, so I think the two of you might be able to do some business."

Zeyda nods towards the entrance, clearly scanning for a familiar face, before checking his pocket secretary to confirm the appointment.

"It's still a little early. Want some dinner or something while we wait?"

13:33:12 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes glances at the 8-ball with curiosity as he slips the last piece of the server into its slot. Having a broken 8-ball in his office did not fit at all with the Casimir he had come to know. The man was almost freakshly neat: his tools were well taken care of; his handwriting was neat--an incredible rarity these days, as fewer and fewer people even bothered to learn to read, let alone handwrite; his desktop computer had a fragging foam case! Something was definately up.

"Oh? Let me see," Eyes said offhandedly, snapping the latches shut on the server case. Sliding the 8-ball towards him, Eyes starts to gently fiddle with the toy, looking into this new task now that the previous one was about as secure as it was going to get.

17:55:16 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Sure, I'll take something to eat. I owe you dinner anyway for hooking me up with Todd. He seems like a good kid," Tony says, scanning the the dinner menu. Mostly real food, thank God.

"I'll take the ribeye, rare; sauteed green beans, and a carafe of the Sutter '58 with the meal." Tony said to the waiter when he approached.

13:36:22 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

The 8-Ball does feel different to Eyes, top heavy in a way that it shouldn't be. And Jennifer is right; turning the orb over does not produce any vague answer display in the small window. Peering closely with his extended vision, Eyes can see small, carefully repaired toolmarks where the upper half and lower half of the sphere have been joined, almost as if the toy had been taken apart and rebuilt. After a couple of minutes examining the globe, Eyes feels a very faint vibration. Immediately he freezes, cold fear coiling about the base of his spine when he realizes that it could be a trap. Instead, a white plastic triangle floats to the window.

47.54897

Eyes blinks in some confusion. A second later, the number is pushed out of the way by a second image.

-122.32

Again, a short pause of two seconds while Eyes copies down the number before it, too, is replaced.

31407

17:55:32 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

It's a long walk in from the parking deck into the Miner's Landing, at least for Marquis. He hates to leave his Caddy so far away, even with the security systems, and the 10 minutes he spent picking out the best spot. Giving the deck one last look before entering, Marq scans the lot.

The rush of warm air blows comfortably over him as he pulls the door open. It seems to fight him, not wanting to let the heat escape, and closes forcefully behind him, after he crosses the threshold. Marq spots Zeyda almost instantly. If I wasn't mistaken', that is where he was sitting last time...in fact I think the time before that as well....

Catching himself in thought he intentionally makes eye contact with the fixer, in an unspoken hello. Marquis maneuvers around the tables and bar toward the oh-so-familiar booth. He has been here a couple of times, mostly just to meet Zeyda, but Marquis is quite fond of it. Good atmosphere, non-soy food, but he just feels out of place. Seems to him this is a place for more reputable runners, and he is still quite new to this side of the city. He has done his share of illegal weapon and automobile modifications, and deconstruction, but he is still new to the actual shadowrun.

Of course this is just a truck that needs work, but if it was just that, why didnt Zeyda just send him over to the shop. There has to be much more to it, well at least Marquis hopes so.

"Hey Zeyda. Hello sir," Marquis greets the two.

He joins the table with Zeyda and his company, looking for where to sit. He decides that its going to be uncomfortable either way, so he slides into the booth next to the stranger. For once he removes his black leather throw back punk jacket, so he can sit without overheating.

17:55:48 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Marq, good to see you, I'm glad you could make it." Zeyda nods to his client, motioning for him to sit.

"This is Tony, the individual we spoke about. He's got some automobile issues, but I'll let him brief you on the specifics. If you need me, I'll be at the bar."

Zeyda takes a last drink from the coffee cup in front of him before pocketing his datapad and heading towards the bar.

13:39:32 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes blinks in wordless confusion. He glances at Jennifer, hoping for a clue, but received a blank stare in return. Absently adjusting his glasses, Eyes frowns and sets to work.

The first thing he did was rewrite all the numbers neatly, aligning them by decimal point:

11:55:52 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

While taking twice as long in the snow, the trip from The Respite to Max’s home was uneventful. He had let the Westwind’s autonav do most of the work with his head still spinning from the events of the morning and the fall from the ladder, he thought it best to have his car do most of the work. After dodging a few polite inquiries from Roxy, Lincoln Tower’s resident security rigger, Max found himself standing in the foyer of his penthouse. He tossed his keys into a terracotta footed bowl on an antique end table near the elevator doors and activated his answering machine, piping it through the speakers located through out his home, it was one of Max’s favorite toys, sensors noted his movement throughout his home, turning on and off the stereo or lights or whatever was programmed into it depending on his location.

“You have two new messages. Message one: Monday, January 8th at 10:14 am.”

The machine clicks over and Antoinette’s bubbly voice issues from the speakers.

“Hey Professor! Tomorrow afternoon sounds great, say one o’clock? If you show up early we can grab some lunch. Thanks for your help. Bye!”

“End of message, if you would like to save the message press or say one, if not press or say two, or just hang up.”

Max makes note of the time in his pocket secretary before saying, “Two”

‘I had better leave Antoinette a message incase I need to cancel,’ he thinks to himself.

“Next message: Monday, January 9th at 11:20 am.” The baritone voice of Max’s old collegue Dr. Eddie Cheung reverberates around the living room. “Maxwell, it’s Eddie. Sorry to say my friend, but I don’t have a line on any independent research that you would be interested in, but I will keep and ear out for anything. Let’s, get together soon for some golf. My treat. I hope to hear from you soon.”

‘Bet your ass it’s your treat.’ Max laughed to himself. Watching the big troll absolutely crush the ball was a truly amazing site, but Eddie also had an incredible short game as well. There was just no beating the guy.

“End of message, if you would like to save the message press or say one, if not press or say two, or just hang up.”

Max deactivated the answering machine and made another note in his pocket secretary to set up a round of golf with Eddie.

With that done he moves to his bath. Wanting nothing more that do slip into the roman style bath, he fights away the urge and instead crosses the large room to the shower where he strips down and washes away the dirt and grime from the morning fire fight, then heads to bed, setting his alarm for 8:00pm.

11:38:01 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

Looking at each other for a few moments, their facial expressions hints of some unknown conversation transpiring between them, Tyler and Megan finally nod at each other. Looking back at John, Tyler says, "All right, we'll go with what you say, with a few changes. I'm sticking around to help you, Megan, and Twiggy look around, and we'll go to the clinic together, the four of us, after we decide there's nothing more to be found here."

Nodding to himself slightly, acknowledging that he was at least listening, John thought to himself that at least they were trusting him enough to go with just three of them as opposed to a whole van full.

"I'll send two of the guys to take the van and Trancer and Melina home, and then to pick up some supplies and maybe a few more bodies. It's not like our crew has anything better to do tonight. They'll come back here and finish cleaning the place and watch over it until we get back or arrange something better. In exchange, they get to crash here until they're relieved of their duty, and make use of the facilities."

John was about to ask why the kid was asking for so little, staying in a freaking soup kitchen didn't really seem like a hell of a lot to ask. Then it hit him that these kids were SINless, and probably in a lot of cases, homeless as well. A building with reasonably functioning utilities that would keep the elements off their backs, maybe let themselves get cleaned up a bit and even stretch out in comparative comfort. Compared to wherever else they usually stayed, it had to be a hell of lot better than looking for a place on the street and trying to watch themselves from getting hoopfragged or worse.

Before he could reply, Megan interrupted, "Yeah, and they won't trash the place or abuse it or nothing old man, so don't be thinking that. But if they're gonna watch the place and clean it up, they deserve to at least crash here. 'Sides, Keira knows us, and she's let us stay a coupla of times before when we had nowhere else to go."

Although he didn't want to think about it, John couldn't help but wonder if Nora had stayed here a couple of times herself, telling Keira that she 'had nowhere else to go'. It hurt him to think like that, but he admitted to himself that she wouldn't have been too far off the mark to say it. Sometimes having a home wasn't a hell of a lot better than not having one. Sometimes it was even worse.

"Well old man, do we got a deal?" Megan asked.

11:40:13 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

Giving Megan a half-smile, John said, "Actually, kid, I kinda figured it was understood that your crew would take care of the place and not frag it up. I mean, you guys just came in here and started cleanin' drek up without nobody asking. So yeah, it sounds like a plan. I figure this Keira lady would appreciate someone she knows takin' care of her place." The girl didn't really look convinced, but she didn't say anything. For once!

Turning to where Trancer and Melina sat, he continued, "I hope you guys don't mind that we're shipping you off, but you really look like you could use the rest. If you feel up to it, I'm sure these kids could use your help tomorrow."

With a quick glance at Megan that John was sure he didn't intend to make, or at least not make so obvious, Trancer piped, "I feel fine, mister. I can't stay and help nul sweat!"

"Oh, no. You're coming with me, kiddo." Looking from her son to John, Melina added, "Thanks for the concern, Mr. Standard, and thanks for arranging the ride. We'll go, since we do need the rest, but we'll be back first thing tomorrow. We owe Keira that much and more, so I'm going to get the Respite up and running again."

John helped them to their feet as Tyler was off recruiting their escorts. "I'm sure you will. If the people around here need this place as much as I think, then it won't be a moment too soon. Take care, and rest easy."

As they left with two of the other gangers, John turned to the remaining kids, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. "So, someone want to show me where the office is so we can get started?"

12:30:13 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

After almost an hour of searching the place, John still wasn't entirely sure the people who made the hit were pros. Although they swept Keira's living quarters and office thoroughly, and the rest of the Respite as well, they found absolutely nothing. Either the hit team had been meticulous, going through everything and clearing the place out, or there just wasn't anything to be found in the first place.

Regardless, it still left them with drek. And whether or not the hit team had intended it to be that way, the fact remained that if someone (read: Lone Star) didn't have Twiggy around to help some of the pieces fall into place, they had a pretty fragging small chance of finding Keira again, or Nora, for that matter.

Sprawled out on a tattered old couch in Keira's office, Megan groaned, "Can we stop searching already old man? There's nothing here! We've torn this place apart every which way, and there's just nothing here to be found. Can we please check out the clinic already?"

Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, Tyler nodded. "I don't think there's anything here either man. We would have found it by now, or Max would've. Face it, that clinic's the only thing we got. Max said that they came here only a couple hours ago. If we're really lucky, we might even catch them before they do...well whatever it is they're going to do to her."

14:05:16 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Another half hour of searching turns up nothing of interest, although Jennifer does find her father's scrapbook, which she takes. Eyes, feeling a bit uncomfortable prying, flips through a couple of pages but sees nothing that would provide additional information. With the Enova packed in the box and the scrapbook and 8-Ball in Jennifer's arms, the two take one last look around the apartment before turning off the lights and locking the door. The elevator ride down to the parking garage is silent, as each is lost in his or her own thoughts.

12:34:22 Monday 08 January 2063 - The Respite Soup Kitchen, Touristville, Redmond

John turned from where he'd been fiddling with the Respite's computer. It was a simple system, simple enough that even his very limited skills had been able to determine that there were no answers hidden on its drives. If there had been, he would have taken the whole system to Finn to check out. Powering it off, he looked at the kids and said, "I guess you guys are right. You have to check though. An hour spent now, no matter how boring, could save time later." He stood and pushed the tattered office chair back into place. "Let's go."

As he led his little group back out through the Respite, he pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his SecureTech jacket and dialed. I've put off making this call for long enough. After a few rings the other party answered, " Good afternoon. Stuffer Shak #4952, this is ..."

"Etta? It's John. Can you talk?"

"John! I was so worried! Why haven't you called? Have you found Nora? When you didn't come home last night I..."

"Hey! Calm down. I'm fine, I'm fine, I just crashed at Finn's doss. I haven't found Nora, but I got a good, solid lead. I'm going to check it out now. I'll call again later this afternoon."

"Wait! What lead? Where are you going? John, I'm going crazy here..."

"Etta, I got to go." And with that, he disconnected.

"What was that all about?" Megan had moved to walk next to him, craning her neck to meet his gaze. "You got a girlfriend or something?"

As they exited the building into the haze and light snow, John barked a short laugh. "Ha! Hardly. That was my sister, Nora's mom. Just keepin' her up to date."

They waited while Tyler stopped to say something to one of the kids on lookout near the doors. The kid had found a blanket somewhere and sat with it draped over his shoulders. John took the opportunity to look around, make sure that they weren't being watched, his left hand inside his open jacket resting on the grip of his pistol. When Tyler had finished, and John was convinced they were relatively safe, the group went over to the unmarked van and climbed in.

After everyone one was in and settled, John turned on the ignition and set the heater to 'high' before twisting around in his seat to look at his passengers. "Ok. We're just going to look around. Check out the building, get an idea of the security, that sort of thing. Unless this place looks like a cakewalk, we are NOT going in at this point. Everyone understand? I want to rush in there as bad as you guys, save the day and all that, but we gotta be smart. We get killed, we're not helpin' no one." Looking them each in the eye, he added, "Make sense?"

After they had all nodded or voiced their agreement, he turned around and put the van into gear. Pulling away from the curb, he said, "OK, Twiggy. Which way do we go?" Following the young elf's directions, the van rumbled into the Barrens.

17:56.01 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Marquis stands with Zeyda, taking his seat after he vacates it.

"Good to meet you Tony. So what are we doing with this truck?"

13:18:19 Monday 08 January 2063 - Research for Practical Applications Clinic, Redmond

About 45 minutes or so later, the van pulled up to the clinic, located on the outskirts of Redmond, near the Redmond-Bellevue border. The clinic appears to be in the middle of a small corporate park, with a main driveway branching off into several smaller roads leading to their respective corporate buildings. Despite being technically in Redmond, it appears safe enough that normal corporate and SIN-possessing types would actually come to it. He also notes that the place sits near several convenient public transportation routes, allowing the SINless easy access as well.

Surprisingly enough, it didn't really seem all that shady, certainly not the type of place an organlegging or worse outfit would operate out of.

Then again, what the hell did you expect, a bright glowing neon sign out front reading 'Organleggers R' Us'? he asked himself.

He had to admit, as he checked it out, that it was the kind of place that seemed legit and respectable, nothing more than what it claimed to be, place to learn how to help others. Of course, that's what the Universal Brotherhood said too, and look at how that all turned out...

14:11:02 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

As the two of them got into Jennifer's car, Eyes finally breaks the silence. "At this point," he starts slowly, trying to be delicate and professional--or at least what he thought was professional--at the same time, "it would probably be best if I went on alone, and met up with you later. I intend on checking out the address we found, and it would be easier if I went alone. After all," he adds, "you're paying me to take the risks, right?"

Eyes pressed on, keenly aware that he was coming very close to being pedantic. "We can meet up again at the Landing, or," he paused, a thought suddenly occuring to him, "have you ever heard of Schrodinger's? It's a coffee shop, not all that far from here actually. It might be a little more discreet." And possibly more safe, he did not add; those mysterious benifactors didn't seem to be very encouraging about, well, anything. The antique token seems to gain weight in his pocket, as if reminding him it was there.

14:14:37 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - 5004 Mariner's Island Blvd #8, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Jennifer nods, pointing the car back towars Miner's Landing.

"I'm familiar with the place. Did you want to set a specific time or just call me when you're finished?"

She fishes through her purse for a moment before withdrawing a business card and passing it over to Eyes

1:19:59 Monday 08 January 2063 - Research for Practical Applications Clinic, Redmond

Slowly, casually taking a drive around the outside of the clinic, John noted every detail he could carefully. Nothing he saw raised any red flags or the unusual. Four exits, one on each side of the building, one being a front door, another a back door, both leading to parking lots on either side of the buidling. Two fire exits on the side totaled up to the four.

The parking lots were about half full, totaling maybe 20 or so vehicles all together, probably staff and some patients in for the day. No visible security equipment or personnel was in sight, prompting John to ask, "Are you sure this is the right place kid? It seems pretty dead out here."

Nodding fearfully, Twiggy replies, "Yeah, I'm sure of it. That's what Nora and I thought when we came out here, seemed totally legit."

"Where'd you see the body getting taken out of?"

Pointing to the western fire escape on the left, Twiggy indicated the pickup point he had seen the truck parked in. "Right there. They just carried the body out.. I swear, this is the place! No way I'd forget it!"

Involuntarily, but punctuating his insistence nonetheless, he looked around nervously, as if he expected trouble to just materialize out of thin air. "OK then, what are we gonna do now?" Tyler asked John, turning to face him from the passenger seat.

17:56.19 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony sits up as best he can in the booth and offers his hand. He looks anywhere from 25 to 30, athletic-, but plain-looking, and is well dressed in a dark brown three piece suit.

"Nice to meet you as well Marq. And yes, the problem is with this truck I've recently got my hands on. I really don't want it, or have much use for it. And I'd like to see how we can take it off of my hands." Tony says pleasently, in a southern accent.

"Also, care for anything to eat? I just ordered some food."

17:56.39 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Marquis returns Tony's handshake across the table. The two must look like an odd pair to the other patrons. One in a three peice suit, the other holding a leather jacket complete with studs and ripped up blue jeans that have probably seen better days. Not to mention his left forearm has a tatooed chain wrapping around it. Two more tatoos are protruding out from under his shirt, but they are mostly covered. He has a little stubble, and his hair is styled messy, but still comes off as clean cut.

"Oh yes, dinner. I will order when the waiter returns. As for the truck, what make is it, and what condition is it in. Is it hot?"

14:15:05 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Traveling through Downtown Seattle

Eyes glanced at the card with interest. Assuming the card was legit--and he had no reason to think it wasn't, not yet anyway--he supposed she might indeed have an idea of the hazards of this investigation, as she had put it earlier. Indeed, she might actually know more about what's going on here than Eyes himself did. This might be a useful person to stay in contact with after the job; certainly I can get more than 2,000 creds out of someone this well-connected.

Eyes blinked. Where had that thought come from? I mean, sure, it made a certain amount of sense. Most of the people with his background had a healthy amount of respect for Dunkelzahn; indeed, some of his peers called him "the only useful thing in the fragging UCAS," and were big fans of the Draco Foundation. Someone like Jennifer would be more likely to deal straight with him than anyone else in this city, except maybe Ran. But since when was he ever interested in getting things out of people? It was totally out of character for him, wasn't it?

Shaking off the thought, Eyes worked his brain back to the actual conversation. "Well I have no idea how long this step will take, or if there are more steps in this little scavenger hunt," Eyes replied after a moment, slipping Jennifer's card into a pocket, "so I'll probably have to contact you later. But it might be a bad idea to make plans for, hm, say seven-thirty tonight?" Hopefully this little rat race didn't have too many more steps to it; with any luck he might be free and clear by this evening.

17:57.08 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony replies to Marq's question. "The truck is an newer model Ford Workhorse, seems in good shape, but then again I'm not a car person. It didn't die on me, and it got me thru this little part of the North Pole," he finishes, with a smile.

Radian's crew didn't seem like it spared much expense, but maybe they would have on a throwaway vehicle. Better to guess wrong on this one. Tony thought to himself as he considered how to answer the last question.

Out loud, he said "Is it hot? Good question. If I had to guess, I'd say 'yes', just based on how I got it. I didn't steal it, but I don't know if the prior owners did or not. They didn't seem to be the type to take many chances, but this may have been a throw away for them."

20:00:00 Monday 08 January 2063 - 6 Bellevue Way, One Lincoln Tower - 41st Floor – Penthouse

The shrill buzzing of Max’s alarm clock roused him from his slumber. Willing his protesting body to move he gingerly pushes himself up to a sitting position, his feet resting on the floor. His head still hurt, but it was more of a dull throbbing as opposed to the sharp stabbing of earlier. He raised his claw to feel the lump on left side of his head and winced a little. Other than his head and what felt like a couple of bruised ribs he felt much better than he had this morning, that was until he looked out of his bedroom and saw a heavy snow falling over the Seattle skyline. It would have been a beautiful site if not for Max’s growing concern over arriving at the Paradigm Shift on time to meet Mr. Fan. And his growing fear that he would not be able to help Keira. It had been hard to sleep, his thoughts had been racing the entire way home from The Respite.

'Why was she taken? What had she, Nora and Twiggy stumbled onto that would cause someone to kidnap her and if they wanted her silent why not just kill them when they had the chance?'

Max moves to his walk-in closet where he pulls out a tailored Futura dark grey sport coat and slacks, which he pairs with a cream-colored mock turtle sweater and a pair of comfortable black Kartesh shoes. This time he remembers to pull out a suit of form- fitting body armor made of a poly-nit Kevlar, it breathed well and would be easily concealed under his clothing.

'I'm not making that mistake again. If I am to help Keira, I need to stay alive to do it.'

Max takes a quick shower and hops onto his matrix connection to grab some quick directions to the Paradigm Shift, that he downloads onto his pocket secretary. He also sends a brief message to Antoinette.

"I somewhat get what you're saying...," the waitress arrives with a glass of water and a menu for Marquis. "Here you are sir, can I get you anything to drink?"

Taking the menu Marquis thanks her and looks away quickly. She is only average looking, but Marq seems to blush anyways. "I will just have an Alaskan Amber, please."

After the waitress takes her leave, Marquis continues, "Well my question to you then is: what do you want to do with it? The sky is the limit."

17:59.57 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony thinks for a second, taking a sip of his bourbon. "Ok, I've got a couple of courses of action. I'd really prefer to sell it, using you as an intermediary with you getting a percentage of the sale price. Alternatively, I guess I could keep it, but I'd need it looked over and a place to store it. If you've got the know-how and the space, I could rent it from you."

"We can change the vehicle ID. That makes it easier to sell, and a lot easier to keep. Does it need any modifications? Or does run and look fine?"

18:02.04 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Seems like it runs fine, no major dents or scratches that I've noticed." Tony said. "Mods? I don't think it needs any, but then again I'm not a car person at all. You wanna take a look at it later on tonight or tomorrow? That way, you can see what it needs better than a guy that can't answer car questions." he finished, smiling again.

18:02.34 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Tomorrow around noon would probably work. Either way, if you want to keep it or sell it, we will re-identify it, and probably paint it to match the identity. Probably keep it in a storage garage for a couple of weeks, too. Let it cool down, just in case."

Marquis returns the smile. His beer arrives with a coster, and some cool condensation clinging to the side of the glass. He takes a large drink, but only after smelling it first. He wants to assure the bar didnt try to slip some soy into his frosty beverage.

18:03.05 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Noon tomorrow's great. Got a place for me to bring it?" Tony asks, motioning the waitress over for another bourbon. Jesus, this is getting a little expensive. Hopefully this truck is worth it. Takes money to make money sometimes. Tony thought to himself as the waitress made her way back over to the booth.

"You want to order, Marq? Me, I'll have another double bourbon." he says to the waitress.

14:15:05 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Parking lot of Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Jennifer nods, pulling up at the entrance to the parking lot.

"I'll be at Schrodinger's tonight at seven thirty, or earlier if I get your call. Thanks. And be careful."

She manages a soft smile, brushing several errant strands of hair back from her face.

13:27:29 Monday 08 January 2063 - Research for Practical Applications Clinic, Redmond

What DO I do now?

Casually driving a discrete distance away from the clinic, John pulls the van over and parks. The spot afforded a view of the main entrance to the building and the parking lot, but was far enough away to avoid unwanted attention, or so he hoped. Looking around at the surrounding industrial park, he shifted the van into 'park' and pulled out his phone. As long as no one from one of these other buildings comes out to chase us off, this should be Ok for now. Now, do I really want to call in the cavalry? Do I have a fraggin' choice?

He tapped the phone against the metal and plastic of his left hand, lost in thought, before finally turning to look at his passengers. "What do we do now? That's a good question, Tyler. I'm going to have to go in there at some point, but I can't just go running in there guns-a-blazin'. If they're involved in the shady drek we think, then they're bound to have some security of some sort. I need intel before I move, which means I need to make some calls."

John dialed the number for Finn's secure line and waited for the familiar series of clicks and beeps before leaving his message. "Hey, it's me again. I know that the tab is just getting bigger, but I need another favor and I need it fraggin' fast. I need everything you can find on a place called the Research for Practical Applications Clinic. Hopefully including a floor-plan of the building. Call me as soon as you have something. Oh, uh, the exact address is..." Pausing to zoom-in on the clinic's sign, John read the address aloud and then hung up.

From the back of the van, Megan said, "That's it? What, now we just wait?"

Sighing, the old runner replied, "Relax, I got another call to make." I'm just not looking forward to making it, that's all...

Dialing from memory, he put the cheap cell phone to his ear and listened while it rang...

14:15:32 Wednesday 10 January 2063 - Parking lot of Miner's Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Eyes nodded, and returned an encouraging smile. "Just doing my job," he replied, his smile turning mischievous.

He hoped the smile didn't look as nervous as he felt. And in truth he had a lot to worry about: he was essentially blindly rushing into an unknown situation, with inadequate tools or preparation, trusting mostly on luck to get him the information he was looking for. In a way it made sense to hurry, as the main danger here was in what may or may not be following him and not so much the trail he was following. The spot he was headed to was just off the freeway in downtown, and so wasn't likely a fortress or a trap. A safehouse, most likely, or maybe a storeroom for Casamir's less-than-legal business assets. It was still dangerous, though.

At the same time another train of thought was keeping him occupied. "Just doing my job"? What was that? Your "job" should have been to jack up the price tenfold at least; she practically begged you do do it. You're getting paid in peanuts for this job and you know it.

Eyes forced the thoughts down again. What kind of a person would take advantage of a vunlerable woman whose father had just died? Hadn't he chosen the path of freedom over the path of amoral backstabbing? Well technically the path had been chosen for him, but still.... He grimaced and started his bike. Shivering not entirely from the cold, he got going, moving slowly so as not to slip on the icy streets.

18:03.05 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

"Oh yes, I will have the New York Steak, please. No Soy, please no soy, non at all, please."

After the waitress takes the order to the slide, Marquis continues his conversation with Tony. "Just bring it down to my shop, its legit. Its called Cooper's Automotive," he slides him a grey business card across the table. In black letters it gives all the basic information you would find on a business card, corporation name and logo, address, phone number, and a small map on the back.

"After we 'fix' it, you can decide what you want to do with it. You can pay me then, or if you decide to sell it, I can just take a cut from that."

18:04.01 Wednesday, 10 January 2063 – Miner’s Landing, Downtown Seattle, UCAS

Tony seemed visabliy releaved by that last statement. "Thanks, hombre, I appreciate it." Taking out his psec, he puts the appointment in, at the address indicated on the card for noon tomorrow.

"By the way, dinner's on me; I guess I called for this meet, least I can do is to pay for dinner." Tony says, looking up from his gadget as the waitress returned with his drink.

13:30:29 Monday 08 January 2063 - Research for Practical Applications Clinic, Redmond

After a few seconds, John's call was connected. "Good Afternoon! Firebird Mystical Security, this is Janice speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"Hoi, Janice. Uh, is Ms. Olivo in today?"

"Yes she is! Please hold while I see if she is available. Who may I say is calling?"

"Just tell her it's John. Thanks."

He could actually hear her smile as she replied, "Of course! Please hold."

As muzak came across the line, John glanced around at the van's other occupants and idly wondered if Janice ever had a bad day. Never fraggin' sounds like it. If I hadn't met her in person I'd think it was just some sort of smart program or recording. Maybe she's under some sorta spell or mood-altering drugs? Hell, maybe she...

"Well. Nice of you to finally check in, John."

"Rosie, I..."

"Don't 'Rosie' me. You know, I waited at that stupid coffee shop for 45 minutes before I decided to check my voice-mail? To think that I actually started to get worried! What was so important that you had to cancel? And why not call me directly? You know I was meeting with clients all day! Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Blinking in confusion at the unexpected outburst, John caught Tyler's lopsided smile out of the corner of his eye. The kid had obviously heard the entire exchange. Covering the mouthpiece with his right hand, he turned to look at the others, "I'll be right back." As he opened the door, he heard Megan giggle as Tyler said, "Sure thing, chummer." Stepping out of the van and shutting the door, he quickly stepped around to the rear of the vehicle, carefully keeping the clinic in view.

He placed the cell back up to his ear in time to hear, "...just going to ignore me now? I certainly have better things to do than listen to myself talk!"

Rosa's sudden heat had him off-guard. Contrary to her former street-name and heritage, she usually remained calm and collected; there was nothing of the stereotypical "fiery latina" in either her speech or manner. These traits were a big reason that she had been such a good runner and certainly helped her to run a successful business. Hell, she was even the one who stayed rational when we split. Why's she so mad now? Frag! I mean, I even called to cancel. I knew this was a bad idea!

"All right! That's it, I'm hanging up now."

Taking a quick breath, John cried "Wait!" into the phone a little louder than he'd intended. Glancing sharply around to see if he'd been noticed, he proceeded in a more normal tone. "Rosie, wait."

"I'm listening." In the background, he could hear a faint yet familiar clicking as she tapped the earpiece of her glasses against her teeth. It was a habit that she'd picked-up during their time apart.

"Ok, listen. I'm sorry I didn't call you directly. I was in a hurry and, well..., I didn't want to get you involved. I..."

"Nice. Look, chummer, don't flatter yourself. I have better things to do now than go off running around through some sewer or back alley with you. Maybe get my hoop shot off. I have a business to run now. As a matter of fact, I had to cancel a dinner with a new client, a good client, to meet you last night. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered. Maybe I..."

Sighing, John covered his eyes with his hand. "It's Nora, Rosie. I didn't call you because it's about Nora."

The silence on the other end was deafening. Finally, "Go on."

"Etta woke me up yesterday morning to tell me that Nora'd been gone for a while. Over a week. Not so unusual these days, right? But Et seemed scared, so I poked around the girl's room. Found a note telling us she was leaving. Thing is, the way it was written makes me think that maybe she was in trouble. In the note she'd left a name of someone who knew the story. Long story short, I find the kid and he spills. Says that they ran into trouble at some fraggin' clinic here in the Barrens."

"What kind of trouble? Is she OK?"

"I don't know. I guess that this place was offering money for some sorta testing and while these guys were there they saw something that they shouldn't. They ran, but when the bad guys caught up to them only the friend managed to get away. Nora wasn't so lucky."

"Jesus, Cole. Why didn't you call me? If Nora is in that much trouble you should have known that I'd want to help!" In the background he could hear the sound of a keyboard. "Where are you now? I can shuffle some appointments around and leave within the hour."

"This is why I didn't call, Rosie. This is exactly what I don't want. I know how you feel about Nora, but I can't have you mixed up in this. If it gets out of hand, well..., I couldn't handle it. Not again."

The keyboard stopped. "I see. Well then, what changed? Why call me now?"

John took a deep breath and dropped his hand back down to his side. "I found the clinic; I'm looking at it right now. I know that I'm gonna to have to go in, but I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do it blind. I know it's a lot to fraggin' ask, but I was thinking maybe you could send one of your people out to do an astral scout of the building? Maybe even tell me if Nora's in there? I mean, I don't even know if it's fraggin' possible for someone to find an address while projecting or whatever, but I figured it was worth a shot. So, can you spare someone for a couple of minutes? I'll pay whatever it takes, but it may take me some time to get the cred. What do you say?

"Oh, and Rosie? Call me John."