Jacques, Gunther, Ludi, and Hank

The drive to Renton was quiet, and smooth. As Gunther maneuvered the car through the empty streets, tiny droplets formed on the Eurocar's windshield as they passes through a slight drizzle. Entering the downscale residentials where Lars was supposed to live, the drizzle gradually increased to a gentle rainfall. Turning onto Lars' street, the two men caught sight of two figures in soggy clothes on the corner, their forms distorted and concealed by the water on Wormwood's passenger window. Appearantly, some sort of 'exchange' was happening.

In no time, they were approaching Lars' residence, stopping a short way up the street. A small, run-down house in need of roofing, the place had a small front yard with a dead lawn, it's only green patches being of crabgrass that was interspersed throughout. There was a short chain-link fence surrounding the yard, no taller than theigh height, which had a gate held shut by what looked to be a sock tied around the gateposts. The concrete walkway that led to the front door was cracked and had grass peeking through said cracks. Beside the walkway on the lawn was various concrete tools and sealed bags of concrete, now soacked by the rain. One section of the walkway at least had been redone, and it appeared plans were in the works to finish the rest at some later date. The house itself had a small porch beside the front door to the right, beside which was a pair of rocking chairs and a very large window with light blue curtains pulled behind it. Through the curtains, Gun and Wormwood could see the glow of a trid. Another window, on the stucco wall to the left of the door at about head-level didn't have any cutain coverings. Further to the left was a small sideyard that extended to the back, with another high window visable on the side of the house. Small places like this didn't have a garage. In front of the house was a newer Honda 3220 in grey, with dirty rims.

Observing the place for a short time, Gun spotted Hank's van pulling up behind them. Out of the van, Hank stepped out of the drivers' side door. Stopping for a moment, Hank turned to Ludi in the passengers' seat.

"We'll be in contact, so sit tight for now. We're going to make this thing right." He assured. "I'll call you in when we're sure it's clear."

"I'll be on the designated frequency" said the russian woman as she shook the transceiver in her hand "so keep me posted".

As Hank was about to shut the door she reached over to catch his arm.

"Hank... be careful."

Without letting him answer, she moved to the back of the van, where she had setted all her gear up. The scanner was already going about its business, watching the air for anything unusual. Ludi's Ingram, fully load with its long sound suppressor attached to it, rested agaisn't the back of the seat she had been in. As she sat down, she absent mindedly reached for it, doing a quick chamber to check... even if her smartlink had confirmed the weapon loaded. Old habits die hard.

Plugging herself in the small surveillance system she had concocted, Ludmila started reciting a prayer her grandmother had taught her when she was a child. For a few seconds, she was back in Vladivostok, sitting on the dirty wooden floor of her parent's living room. Her brothers were fighting in the kitchen. Her baby sister cradled in her arm wouldn't stop crying. The rain... the sound was calming her.

Ludmila snapped back to reality as four small windows showed up in her field of vision. She jumped from one camera to the other, doing a quick check on the connection.

Everything seems to be running smoothly...

Keeping a low profile, Ludmila got her back agaisnt the van's side, and lifted her head just high enough to peak out at Lars' house. With each window occupying a corner of her field of vision, it was a bit difficult to focus on the actual situation... looking at 5 things at a time was somewhat disorienting. She picked up her thermographic binoculars and started scanning the house.

Using his micro-transceiver, Jacques says "Hank, why don't you head around back while I try the front door."

To Gun he says, "You want to backup Hank or me?"

Bringing the binoculars down, Ludmila squeezed the transceiver transmit button.

"Keep sharp boys. The man probably isn't your average sec guy. If he does have military background, he'll probably put up quite a fight if he's here."

She let go of the button a few seconds, trying to collect her thoughts.

"I've got some neurostun and restraints with me if you find him."

"The front door is more my style." Gun got out of the car and straitened his long black coat.

"Stay behind me Jack, and let me do the talking if there is any."

Gun marched up to the sock covered gate bold as brass. He plowed through it without stopping and went right up to the front door. His peripherals spotted movement which he noted as Hanks.

He hit the door like a rhino charging. Leading with one size 14 loafer.

Jacques, Gunther, Hank, and Ludi

Gunther drove his foot into the area of the door where the lockset would be, easily shattering the frame around it, and ripping the chain off the top of the door as it violently swung inward. Bouncing off the opposite wall, Gunther nearly caught the door in the face as it sprung back. Pouring into the room, Gunther and Jacques could see a well-built man completely startled, jumping up from his easychair in front of the trid. On the table beside him sat a can of beer and a pistol, still in it's holster. As the man spun around to face them, Gunther and Jacques could see the man's eyes dart towards the pistol, as if unsure as to whether he should go for it or not. From the back of the house, a violent crunch noise was heard, followed by Hank's voice:

"Sooooon of a fragging-"

To the mens' left was a short hallway leading to what looked like the bathroom and bedroom, and to the rear of the livingroom where they were, it opened up into a kitchen. The kitchen door was out of sight for the moment. With an entertainment center to the right, the man's lazy-boy and couch sat between Gunther and Jacques, and their target.

Hank, Ludi, Jacques, and Gun

The sound of snapping wood and cursing resonated through the house as Hank struggled with something in the kitchen. Meanwhile, in the livingroom, Lars stared silently at the two intruders. With one eye on the pistol that sat on the table, Lars slowly raised his hands, palms forward. "Take whatever you want." He began. "I don't know who you are, just take whatever."

Sitting alone, accompanied only by the sound of the rain, Ludmila was feeling the tension thru her whole being. Hank was out of her field of view, and a few seconds ago, Gunther and the Corsican man had broken in. No flashes of light had illuminated the windows; nor had the sound of gun fire echoed in the night. Either all was going well.... or all was going terribly wrong.

On instinct, the woman's hand reached for the side door handle but she stopped herself. The sudden move had brought a sharp shot of pain down her side. The bandages creaked; the dry blood pulling on her skin.

She activated her comm unit.

Everything ok? Sit rep guys.

"Sidown," Gunther commanded, "lean back." He moved carefully as the man obeyed his orders. He kicked over the table with the gun on it and slid the gun under the couch with his foot.

He looked over at Jaque, "send in the girl, she knows what questions to ask."

Using the micro-transciever's sub-vocal microphone, Jacques radios Ludi: Gun and I have got the guy covered in the front room. Come on in since you probably know what best to ask him about.

To Hank he also radios: Hank, you okay back there?

Nodding to Gunther to designate that he'd radioed Ludmila, Jacques kept his pistol drawn on Lars as he slowly moved towards the sounds of Hank's entry.

Copy that. On my way.

After sticking the transceiver unit in one of her jacket's pocket, Ludmila grabbed her Ingram and slung it across her body. Usually, she would have found going in with that much firepower exagerating... but the morning's firefight was still too fresh in her mind.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and slid the side door of the van open. The cold and the wind bit at her neck and face as she jogged to the house. Approaching the door, she was quite surprised to find it almost dangling from its hinges. Gunther was obviously not the kind of man to kid around with getting things done. As she entered, the woman stopped a few seconds to try to get the door closed behind her. Anyone walking by the house might find it a bit suspicious to see an open door, at night. With a relaxed attitude, as if she was in control of everything, Ludmila walked into the living room. Lars was sitting on a couch, and looked rather nervous. Gunther had no weapons... which didn't make him less intimidating. Jacques was apparently moving toward what seemed like a kitchen to lend a hand to a cursing Hank.

Ludmila drew he Colt, keeping it to her side. Her head cocked on the side, she was smiling at Lars in a very worrying manner. She obviously enjoyed the situation. The Colt's safety could be heard clicking on and off, repeatedly.. as if the woman was hesitating what to do. With her free left hand, she handed to Gunther a set of metal restraints without taking her eyes off Lars.

"Cooperate and no harm will come to you."

The smile she had on her face was still there.

"Who else is in the house?"

Gun acknowledge the restraints. "Roll over," he commanded. He put the mans arms behind his back and tightened the restraints to just shy of cutting of blood flow.

Worm, Ludi, Hank, and Gun

Wormwood cautiously approached the kitchen where Hank could still be heard cursing, only to find the man attempting to remove his leg from the flimsy back door, which he had kicked clean through.

"How 'bout a hand?" Hank suspended his cursing for a moment to solicite Jacques' aid.

In the livingroom, Lars made a painful sounding grunt as Gunther tightened the restraints around his wrists. After ludi addressed him, the man turned his head to see her. A look of fearful recognition came accross his face, which he instantly attempted to veil in bravado. "No harm my ass, you ruskie bitch. I saw your handywork on the trid. If you want to talk, your dogs have to leave."

Not only was Gun strong, he was fast. Fast enough that a casual observer, like Lars, couldn't be exactly sure where the 10 inch black blade came from, but it was there, and just as quickly it was under Lars throat.

"I am only going to tell you this once, call the lady a name again and you will not have to worry about anything ever again, capiche?" He emphasized his warning by pressing the blade to the mans throat hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Hank, Ludi, Gunther, and Worm

Lars gasped suddenly as Gunther pressed the blade against his throat. The warning was appearantly effective, as Lars immediately shut right up.

Glancing back at where Ludmila and Gunther had Lars well in hand, Jacques holstered his pistol as he turned back to help Hank out.

Chuckling a bit, he said "You scared me a bit, thought he had a pack of dogs or something with all the racket you were making."

Just as quick as it appeared, the knife vanished.

"I'll be out front if you need me."

Gun stepped into the shadows of the front entry way.

"Spasiba" the russian thanked Gunther in her mother tongue.

As Ludmila turned away to pull the blinds closed she hailed Jacques and Hank in the kitchen

"Make sure the whole house is clear guys."

She then simply grabbed a sofa chair a pushed it close to where the man was sitting. Still holding the gun in her hand she sat down in a very relaxed manner, and lit herself a cigarette.

As she spoke, the woman took a silencer out of one of her numerous baggy pant's pockets and starting slowly screwing it on the threaded barrel of the Manhunter.

"Since you already know who I am, I think we'll skip the introduction and jump straight to the main topic of the day."

She blew some smoke in his direction.

"I'll be true to my words; if I am satisfied by your answer, I won't hurt you... much."

The silencer now fixed on, she looked straight at him.

"Now... why did you kill Kote?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..." Lars began. Giving Ludi a disgusted look, "Even if you did, you wouldn't understand."

Meanwhile, after helping Hank remove his foot from the door, Jacques performed a quick sweep of the residence. There was nobody else, just them. Limping into the livingroom, Hank was pulling splinters from his leg that had penetrated his jeans. Taking up a position in the room's corner to cover Ludi, Hank gave her a nod, sortof a Now's your chance, look.

Letting her ashes fall on the floor itself, Ludmila leaned forward towards Lars' face. The woman wasn't a particularly intimidating individual... but she had her moments.

"Try me."

Still nonchalantely holding the gun toward Lars, she lifted her eyes toward Hank.

"Find his bathroom. If there's a thub, clog it and start filling it."

Her green eyes went back to the restrained man.

"So, I'll ask you again, why did you kill Kote?"

As Ludmila waited for Lars to muster up a reply, she slowly lifted the cigarette back to her lips. The tip lit in a firey burning red for a few seconds, as the woman sucked the toxic cocktail in her mouth and down her lungs. People said smoking was bad for the lungs... but in this day and age, she could always get new ones... Not even new; better. The cigarette went down again as he lips slightly parted away. Opaque white smoke starting slowly and gently spilling out of her mouth, rising in a slow ballet toward the celling, dissipating before reaching it. The smoke still rolling in her mouth, she leaned forward toward the man, inching her face from his.

As she spoke, the last tobacco breath she had sucked in went in Lars' face.

"Let me be very honest. The next few minutes will determine the rest of your life."

She looked around, as if making sure no one was listening. She then got her left arm around the man's neck and pulled him toward her face, so that his ear was next to her mouth. Almost sensually, she whispered to him.

"Don't frag with me... you'll only give me an excuse to kill you."

She turned her head slightly to the side, depositing an almost gentle kiss on his rough cheek.

As Ludmila leaned back in her seat, she took her cigarette back to her lips.

Hank took a quick look at his watch, as if he was running late for some occassion before nodding acknowledgement to Ludi. As he left to find the tub, he commented: "Hopefully he has a garbage disposal for afterwards...Do you want the Corsican in here to hear all this?"

Lars appeared unphased by Hank's comment and grimaced as the Russian gave him a peck on the cheek. "Kote asked me to do it. She didn't want to be a part of it all anymore...you were just the fall guys."

Even tought Ludmila was quite suprised by what Lars had said, she didn't react.... as if she already knew the fact.

Licking both her index and thumb, she pressed them agaisnt her lit cigarette.

"Let's pretend I believe you for a second. Let's pretend that her demand wasn't some delusion on your part."

Her knuckles were white around the handle of her Colt.

"If Kote wanted out of the business, why was she seeking another management then? And if death was the only way she could find out, why the need for fall guys?"

She once again leaned in a bit closer.

"You like water?"

They could hear the sound of the faucet in the seemingly distant bathroom coming to life as Lars shakily put together his answer. "Kote wasn't looking for new management...management wanted her. They didn't care anything about her and she knew it. She wanted out. Stone's an asshole and his drug-peddling lackey is no better. If something happened to her, Stone wouldn't be able to find a replacement...not like Kote. After this, no girl worth the salt is going to want to work with him. Do yourself a favor and do some digging...this isn't the first time Stone's lost a girl."

As she stared at Lars, Ludmila decided to cut his last statement. She said only one thing.

"Anne Keller"

She got out of her chair, gently drumming the Colt's silencer on her tigh. As she started walking around the couch and behind Lars, she spoke again.

"Why clogging all the drains then? Why the need for fall guys? Why the whole fake thing about Cain? Why this whole mascarade?"

Lars was right about two things, which started to make Ludmila less sure of herself. Stone was indeed an asshole, and Charles did have a long sheet of drug offenses.

As she got behind Lars she lifted the Colt and slowly caressed his neck with the silencer.

"If all you say is true, then why was Kote, herself, pursuing movie managers and such? Why would she meet in private with different managers? That was her decision, and hers alone."

"The whole setup was just to give the reporters more to write about." Lars began. "One model commits suicide, who cares? These girls have so many problems it's practically expected. But one model gets murdered under mysterious circumstances and people in the loop will be talking about it for years. Stone's finished."

Hank enters the room as Lars finishes his sentence, and motions to Ludi's colt, which she is drumming on her thigh. "Gun safety toots. Don't point that at anything you don't wanna destroy." Hank smiles and motions at Lars briefly. "Tub's about ready by the way...nice and hot."

Lars pauses and a worried look shoots accross his face, which tries to cover up. "I don't know why Kote would meet with all those people you're talking about. You have to understand her, I don't think she knew she had a choice. I tried to tell her she did, but...I don't know."

After shooting a smile back at Hank, she whistled in Gunther's direction, to catch his attention.

"Gunther, I'm going to need a hand with this."

Her pistol still in hand, she came back into Lars view.

"On your feet. Now."

It didn't sound like a suggestion. Throughout the whole run, Ludmila had felt compelled to find Kote's killer; to find a reason behind the death of the woman. Now that she apparently had it... she simply didn't want to believe it. Indeed, the woman seemed to be in a desperate situation. But her egocentric behavior had put many lives in jeopardy. Because of what Kote had apparently triggered, people had died, other would soon, and it was probable that the killing wasn't over. The anger... it was already starting to build inside Ludi... Who did Kote think she was to toy with the lives of others like this! How dare she! If Lars was telling the truth, then the real mastermind behind all this was Kote herself. There was simply no way to punish her.

Poor Lars... he was only another pawn in the game. Ludmila's first intention was to torture and kill Lars. Now, she was going to make sure he was telling the truth, and she'd then let him live.

Once Lars was up, she motioned him toward the bathroom.

"Let's go. Don't make me shoot you."

Lars slowly came to his feet, keeping an eye on the front door for the man with the knife. Thouroghly intimidated, and not wanting to invoke the Russian's wrath, or provoke Gunther to violence, Lars complied, stepping slowly to the bathroom.

As he passed Hank, into the hallway, Hank gave the man a disgusted scowl. "I've seen a lot of guys like you in my time...they all thought they could get away with it." He started. "...and always for a girl too. But this takes the cake."

Lars returned Hank's scowl and made his way into the restroom, looking over his shoulder briefly at the Fury who had him at gunpoint.

Hank leaned into Ludi and spoke uncharacteristically soft as she passed. "Do you think this is a good idea? I've seen this drek before and it can make a guy go from compliant to "not" if you're not careful." Hank's voice became even lighter. "We get paid to eliminate this guy. He's a wretch, and I almost felt bad for him for a minute, but in the end, this guy killed a girl. You saw his work, the way it was done...Think for a minute what she looked like on that couch and you'll know what we gotta do. It may have been her idea, or it might not have. For us to get paid, it don't matter. If he wanted to help this girl, he could have taken her to counseling, not indulge in her little game. He could have arranged to kill Stone or Whittington...he certainly had access to them. He made a choice as much as she did...and I think he liked it."

As she made her way to the bathroom, Hank's words kept resonating in her ears. They were indeed getting payed to whack the guy. But somehow, Ludmila couldn't get herself to pull the trigger. What if it was the wrong man? What if, out of so delusion, he had fantasized about killing Kote, but hadn't? People were fragged up...

Hank was right, torturing him probably wouldn't yield much more information. She was sure, all along, that Cain existed... and that the killer had something for water. She wanted him to suffer, and die drowning. Afterwards, they could have simply stripped him and got him back into the bathub. The cops would probably see thru the scheme... but there was always a chance they wouldn't.

But now, she did feel pity toward him. Even if he had made the wrong choice, the man appeared to simply be another pawn in a scheme organised by a dead model.

The woman's gun was now down, pointing toward the floor, her finger tapping on the side.

Kote's face appeared in front of her eyes; he beautiful face emotionless, the pools of blood forming around her body, the two black holes she had for eyes...

"Frag this..."

Ludmila's sad look changed in a second; her jaw was clenched, and she muttered something in russian. Her left hand went around the small silver crucifix around her neck, as her right one raised.

The caseless Colt made little sound as the silenced shot went in Lars head. Out of good measure, Ludmila went over his body and made sure he wouldn't come back from the dead. When she stopped shooting, the slide of her gun was locked back.

As she holstered her gun back, she stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her with her foot. Getting back in the living room, she took two items out of her pockets... but not before wiping them free of prints. Under the couch she hid a Lonestar issued Ares Predator. And on the tv she deposited something that slightly looked like a leather wallet: Sgt. Earl Herrera's badge.

The cops were out for Ludmila's blood... and even if there wasn't any casing left, odds are they would be able to link this execution with the morning's shooting at the train station. If Ludmila could evade them for a few weeks, if not months, they would eventually give up, close the case, and feed some bulldrek to the media. Hey... maybe they'd pin it all on Lars....

Gunthers sharp ears caught the *cough* of the Colt.

Sloppy.

He watched Ludmilla plant the evidence hoping that it would throw the star of her track. The world was full of bad people, Lars was one of them, looks like his Johnson was another.

At lease the mob had rules when it did its buisiness. Death in the shadows was far more random and cold.

"We done here?"

Wrapping her hand in her jacket as not to burn herself, Ludmilla started unscrewing the silencer so she could holster her weapon back.

Her face showed no emotion as she started moving toward the front door.

"Da. Let's get out of here."

Gun gave the house one last look and moved out behind Ludmilla. The woman was a class act no doubt. But something about this job really fragged with her head.

"What next?"

As she stepped outside, Gunther on her heels, Ludmila lit herself yet another cigarette. All three men hadn't spend that much time with her...but their clothes would probably smell of tobacco for the next few days.

"Now?" she took a long drag "Now we collect our money and get this fragging job over with."

By finding out the truth, Ludmila thought she would have felt better... relieved... That her actions of the past week would somehow have been justified. The truth only made her feel sick. And to think that Lana was going to grow up in a such a world.

For a second, she had felt some relief while squeezing the trigger; the wrath finally flowing out of her. But once Lars' blood at painted the walls... she had felt nothing. Only the rotten feeling inside her that something was still very wrong. All those thoughts went aside. She was getting pay good cred for the job, and it was now over. The Lonestar knew her face, and probably her first name, but that was it. All she had to do was to stick to her neighborhood for a few weeks and lay low. Eventually, they would give up. They have better things to do... or so she hoped.

"Lets give Stone a ring, set up a meet and collect our money. We can then part ways."

Her voice was seemingly lacking emotions. She started walking back to Hank's van. Once there, she would transfer all the audio data she had recorded in her head to her pocket computer and send it to Stone as proof.

Everything was over.

Yea right...

As she reached the van, she turned around to face her teammates.

"Somehow... I don't feel safe going back to Stone's place. Lets set up a meet, for tonite. Any places that come in mind?"

"... I don't know about you guys, but I could use a drink." she said, taking another drag.

"Someplace we can hide the body if it goes badly, like the docks," Gun says it with a stone cold face it could be a joke....

"Give me your phone and I will take care of it."

Leaving the cigarette stuck to the corner of her mouth, Ludmila undid the strap of her wrist phone and threw it to Gunther.

"Don't use all my minutes..."

She gave him a little wink.

The big man punched in the code for Stones house. He was leaning against his car looking back down the street.

"Stone, Gun, the job is done. Meet us at pier 11 Tacoma dockside in an hour. Bring the money."

Stone answers up to Gunther's demand in his usual fashion: "So the job has been completed as we discussed? The docks aren't really my scene so I trust you will not be too disappointed if I have one of my associates bring you the payment? Otherwise, we can meet at my place?"

"As long as the money is good, one hour."

Gun flipped the phone to Ludmilla, "we should get going, check the place out before the meet."

Her cigarette pinched between her index and thumb, the russian woman flipped it across the sidewalk and onto someone's lawn.

Pulling the collar of jacket up to protect her neck from the cold, she started walking towards Hank's van.

"Da vai."

As she approached the side door, she started fishing around the pockets of her baggy pants.

"Yebat'-Kopat'..." Ludmila cursed in her mother tongue.

Her green eyes went up to meet Hank's.

"Cigarettes... I'm out."

"You ever consider quitting?" Hank asked. He obviously didn't have any with him. "If the bullets don't kill ya, those things will." The man smiled once again, still a rarity. Firing up the van, Hank followed Gun's Eurocar to the Tacoma docks. He preferred meets in more populated areas, for his protection more than anything else.

They could hear only the sound of the asphalt against the wheels of the van as it plodded through the damp streets towards the port. Sticking close to Gun's vehicle as they approached the pier complex. Pier 11 was vacant and deserted with no ships at the dock for the moment. They still had another half-hour before the appointmet. Along the left side of the pier, which extended some distance out above the water, a series of seatrains were lined up probably awaiting pickup. At the shore was a large crane, Hank guessed to actually move the cargo. The crane's boom extended far into the air, but even the cab was a good 2 story ladder climb. As the two vehicles parked in front of the pier, Hank tugged on Ludi's sleeve to get her attention. "Any chance we can get your Ingram up in that crane?"

As she settled down in the passenger seat, Ludmila at a look of total confusion on her face. It seemed like Hank's last remark shocked the woman.

"Quitting? So I can pick up drinking, like you?" turning her head slighty away from him, it was still easy enough to catch her smirk.

"Plus, I can just get new lungs if it comes to that... Tell you what; I'll quit smoking the day you quit shadowrunning."

Ludmila had only known Hank for about two weeks now... not even. But she liked him. She felt strangely comfortable with him, as if she had known him for all her life. The fact that he was still there, driving the van, spoke a lot about his character. Yes, he was into it for the money... but it wasn't the money that had forced him to get Ludmila out of the sewers, and patch her up.

The drive to the docks went smoothly and in silence.

All Ludi could think about was Lana. She haddn't seen... or spoke to her, since the whole job had started. She had gotten her on the phone, a few times during the week, but only for a few minutes at a time. She missed her daughter... deeply. Maybe, tonite she'd sleep at home. After all, this was the end of the job, in theory.

Once they were arrived, she exited Hank's van, waiting for the others to gather around.

"Well.... getting up there isn't such a bad idea. A bit obvious, but not too bad. Only thing I didn't like is if I have to bail quick, it's a fragging long drop to the ground."

As she spoke, she playing with her lower lips, bitting it. It was obvious she was craving a smoke.

"Just... find a spot near the crane were you could hide your van. At least, I won't have to swim to safety... Anyways, you gentlemen have any suggestions on how you want to deal with this? I'm going to transfer the confesion we got onto my pocket comp, and when Stone's courrier shows up, we'll beam him the information. This way, we'll have some insurance he won't try to plug us on the spot."

Gun looked around the spot. "Yeah this will do. Heres what I think, Ludi up on the crane, they move wrong, you shoot them. Hank, you back the van up so that its a strait shot into it for me, then out of here for all of us. Ludi if it goes bad get out and stay low. We'll try to keep it civil, but if it goes bad don't hesitate. I'll do myu best to buy you guys anytime you need if it looks like they are going to just geek us."

Jacques chimes in "I'm going to scout around for a bit, but I'll return to back you up in meeting them. I'm hoping that it will go smoothly. But if not the two of us are in the best shape to try to break out of a trap."

After making a studious reconnoiter of the area, Jacques was fairly sure there was nothing out of the ordinary waiting for them. The port was quiet and many of the surrounding piers were unoccupied today. Still, there were numerous stacks of seatrains and other cargo containers to provide cover to anybody wanting to approach unseen. Some of the freighters at the more distant piers could even be used by a good sniper...an unsettling thought.

Hank backed the van into a position so that the rear was facing the area Gun intended to meet with the "money". Doing a quick chamber check on each of his pistols, Hank moved to the back of the van and unlocked the back doors so Gun and Jacques could get in quickly if they needed to.

Ludi, scaling the crane, and taking a covered position beside it's cab took position. The steel was cold and wet from the rains, soaking into her clothing immediately. From her vantage point, she was the first to see the headlights moving through the port headed to their pier. Shortly, a silver Ford Amercar pulled into view. On the front license plate frame was an advertisement for a rental dealership. Stopping about 100 meters from the pier, the driver an passenger side doors swung open smoothly. From the driver side, a man in a dark suit stepped out, whose features Ludi couldn't make out from the distance. On the passenger side, a bulkier looking figure with a flowing longcoat stepped out. In his hands, Ludi could make out what appeared to be a sawed-off.

During the few minutes she spent, lying down on the freezing and wet metal crane, Ludmila could only think of one thing: how much she'd like to have a rifle instead of a punny submachine gun. Not that the Ingram was a bad weapon... far from it. In close quarter encouter, the thing was simply deadly. But, at long range, it probably wasn't the most effective weapon.

When she spotted the headlights approaching, her left hand pressed the transceiver near her mouth.

"Here they are."

Setting it close by, the woman then extended the collapsible stock of her weapon, and trainned the sights on the two men. Her finger resting on the trigger guard, the smartlinked weapon clicked off it's safety.

Gesturing that Gun should lead the way, Jacques says, "Ok, let's get this over with. I do not like this situation. Too easy for them to ambush us."

"I hear you bro. Ok, stay behind me."

Gun casually ajusted his suit jacket and walked halfway to the car. He stopped just out of good pistol range.

"You have the money," he lifted his voice to carry the distance to the car.

The man from the driver's side answered Gun: "You are the photographers that were hired? Then yes we have the money." Reaching slowly into the car, the man produced a slim briefcase.

Gun held the chip up that Ludmilla had made. He motioned for the men to come forward.