21:15

The kitchen is expansive, to say the least. Stainless steel countertops and appliances range off into the distance, reflected fluorescent creating sort of a harsh white glow that radiates from everywhere.

The table is long, other counters and appliances pushed aside to make space for it. The man gathered around the table appear to range from all walks of life, some dressed in the latest Zoe fashions to stroll off the line, others in little more then cheap Securetech running suits. They are all, however, smiling.

"Vinnie," one of the men says, "You have done a great thing. This is a blow those Chinks will not forget soon." Sitting at the head of the table, the man steeples his fingers and looks at each of the others for a long moment, finally focusing on a shorter man, dressed in what used to be an Armani suit. The jacket is gone, though, and the tie is loosened, shirt hanging open. The shorter man grins as the man speaks again.

"But we must do more. We must strike at the very head of this multi-headed...snake. I want Yamikaza dead. This will leave them in disarray for weeks or months, reorganizing, while limiting the attacks against us. The perfect time to consolidate our holdings."

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Iblis

"Miss Iblis?" The speaker is tall for a human, standing almost seven feet. A pronounced brow ridge hangs over dark sunglasses, framed by a face almost Simian-like, with swathes of dark, course hair and protruding nose and lips. Broad shoulders stretch the straight black suit and white shirt beneath.

The much smaller, much slimmer, but equally furry, although in a pale white, elf turns from shouting something at a lighting crew. "Yeah?"

"Passive security's in place, and we're installing the automatic guns outside and on the dance floor." He indicates a far distant corner of the open warehouse space, where a work crew was hoisting a concealable turret into place.

He hands her a stack of mag cards. "These will function to open the front door on the first floor, the cargo elevator, and the guest area." A second and third stack, much smaller, follow. "These will open all those plus the staff quarters, and this final group is everything, including your and Miss OK's residence on the top floor."

The conversation is cut short as a call comes in, marked priority.

"You're quarter." she picks it up quickly, identifying the source.

"You sweet little furry thing," End-Run's voice is almost as familiar to her as her own. "You raising rates on me?" The meaningless chatter continued for a few more minutes as the file downloads, two casual friends making vague plans about a dinner that would never happen.

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Jake

Another of Carvaggio's boys taps on the doorframe and saunters into a bedroom, obviously at comfort here in the private quarters. He brushes hair away from Jake's eyes, flashing a grin that could have made millions on a runway, and sets a business card down on the nightstand.

"Another request from Stephan and Mr. Carvaggio," he says, strolling back out of the door with all the inborn grace of a natural dancer.

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Nameless

Styx's monotone voice blares out of the vidscreen. The day he'd stopped actually placing calls and started routing messages directly to the telecom unit had been a horrible one indeed.

"I don't know if you're there or not, because of course, as usual, you don't answer the 'com. On the bright side, you're fairly reliable, so you're either listening or psychic." The words themselves might indicate frustrated or amused, but the voice maintained it's constant monotone drawl. It rattles off a location, one now familiar on the Tacoma docks, and the message ends, dropping the room into darkness once more.

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Howling Wolf

A soft, sultry voice purred over the comms. Knozone always sounded like she was inviting you to do all sorts of potentially wonderful things, even when she was reciting equipment lists.

"2 centimeter gaskets, and 2 square feet of duraplast. Got it. You've really got to start dodging those bullets better, sweety." A throaty chuckle.

"Oh, and I've got info for you, if you're up for it. New Johnson, but he's hiring a couple of 'runners you've worked with before. Turns out it's pretty much the opposite objective this time though. His name's Vinnie." She rattles off an address down by the Tacoma docks, and blows you a kiss as she signs off. Drop dead gorgeous, Knozone always made sure to use what nature gave her to further her work as a fixer.

________________________________________________________

Jake rolls over gently and slips out of Fixx's arms. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he runs one hand across his face to banish the signs of sleep and then back through his hair.

He and Fixx had been together for years. Nothing was exclusive within Carvaggio's coterie, except Stephan, but the large man with a hint of cyber had shown Jake the ropes when he arrived in Seattle. Since that point, the two men had worked together in the club and the larger shadow scene doing work and favors for Carvaggio and his right hand Stephan.

Within Extassis, old world blood and old money mixed with the highest ranking execs to show off the greatest natural beauties in the world in a subtle game of want and desire.

Shaking off the reverie caused by Fixx's long blonde hair wrapping around the man's torso and under the silk sheets and light blanket, Jake reaches across to pick up the card left by Marcus. The smooth handwriting reads "Transcontinental Shipping, Tacoma. 10 pm, Vinnie".

He'd had six weeks off, time to get back to work.

Rising, Jake moves off to take a shower. Once he is clean, the Italian Shaman kneels in front of the small altar to his ancient gods. He anoints his body with lightly fragranced oils as he burns incense and meditates to find the deep calm within himself that would allow him to focus and bend the world around him to his own will as needed.

He dresses in the black jumpsuit that he had created out of the most protective materials he could buy in the shadow market and with sword and shield in hand goes out to practice. The armor was remarkably heavy despite its lightwieght appearance and Jake was still adjusting somewhat.

Around 2 pm that day, he places a call to Iblis.

"Hey Fuzzy-Bunny, I've got some work for an old friend with a large yacht. Wanted to know if you were joining us on the cruise."

Staring silently at the static that rode up and down the telecom screen, Nameless sighed quietly to himself. After their last job, he'd had some cyber and bio installed in himself, to make himself more well rounded, especially in combat, since it had looked like he'd really be needing it a bit more.

While recovering, he'd tried to see Steel, but she'd been avoiding him, or so it seemed. Maybe this job was what he needed, to take his mind off of things, to refocus on work, and ignore his personal issues.

That decided, he dialed up Jake, and got an answering machine. "Hey boss, it's the nameless one. I'm just checking in for the meet. Who else on the team is in for this one? Give me a call if you want me to do anything beforehand."

That done, he decided to take his own advice, and closed his eyes for a moment to meditate, and drifted gently into peaceful silence...

"WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU NUMB NUTS DOING!?!" The shout comes through the hand that has been placed over the phone. "I SAID TO THE RIGHT!! THAT WOULD BE THE OTHER HAND YOU SCRATCH YOUR COLLECTIVE HOOPS WITH!! RIGHT!!" The sound jumps to clarity as Iblis answers, her voice dripping with honey and forced through clenched teeth. "Why yes, J-J I will be going before I shoot one of these nice work people dead. Do you know if anyone else is working this gig?" A small but firm voice sounds out in the distance. "Iblis I need another signature for the rest of the order." The voice sounds young and male. You hear the sound of a stylus being dragged across the screen of a touch pad. "Thanks Izzy hun."

Jake chuckles to himself, careful to keep the sound away from the phone. "Actually, he who shall remain nameless dropped me a message earlier, so I think he's going out on the boat with us. That's all I've heard so far. Can I assume I'll see you and the little silver streak tonight?"

"I am so there. Mama has bills to pay and her white furry hoop is tapped out as far as money goes. See ya then!" With a click the line goes dead.

Howling Wolf sighs and dials Knozone back.

"I'm going to need a time for the meet, as well, Knozone."

Howling Wolf

Knozone grins and smiles that delicious smile, using visual as she always does.

"Oh, sorry about that, sweety." The icon blinks a moment later to indicate the receipt of data.

Everyone

The docks are foggy and fairly deserted at this time of night. The low bellow of a fog horn somewhere out on the harbor adds to the loneliness. As you arrive at the given address, a familiar location for some, you're stopped by lines of blinking, glow-in-the-dark police tape.

==CRIME SCENE - DO NOT CROSS TAPE==

As you look beyond the flimsy barriers, it's obvious why the tape is here. Transcontinental Shipping looks like the site of a mercenary testing grounds. The plate glass windows that made the majority of the front of the shop, which most of you know to be high grade bullet-proof material, are shattered and broken. The office itself is riddled with bullet holes, chunks the size of small fruit blown out of the cheap office furniture in the front lobby. You can see at least 3 chalk outlines on the ground outside of the office, one of them troll-sized.

As the four of you glance around at the carnage and at each other, a black Americar pulls up, and Vinnie pops out of the driver's side door.

"Hey guys, hop in your cars...errr, and bike's or, well, whatever, and follow me."

A man wearing a greatcoat over traditional amerindian clothes steps out of a Gaz-Willis Nomad SUV. You see that he is clearly a SURGE changeling, judging by the fact that he has digitigrade legs and troll-like osteoderms sprouting from his face, which is the only bit of skin you can currently see. A what looks like what would have been a pair of horns are cut off close to his snow-white skin, and his white hair is trimmed very short. His eyes are obscured by a pair of wraparound sunglasses, and the very observant can see an Ares Predator, a morning star, a tomahawk, and what looks like a monowire whip concealled about his person (TN 9 for the first three, TN 18 for the last).

He looks around the scene trying to make out what happened here.

When the Johnson arrives, he will state the words "Very well." before hopping back into his Nomad and following the Johnson.

Jake rolls back into the seat of his motorcycle, the cruiser was built for long drives more than winning races. Following Vinnie, he keeps on eye on the silver vespa in his mirror.

Iblis rolls her eyes at the crime scene. "Nice Vinnie, love what ya've done to the place. Early American Gang War, very hip right now." She hops back on to her silver Vespa and falls into line behind Jake's bike.

Vinne takes the group down through one of the seedier sides of Tacoma, finally stopping in front of what appears to be an old pastry factory. The gates hang half-open, and a creaking metal sign swinging in the wind outside proclaims "Good Eats!".

The Americar pulls up to the human sized door on one side of the building, and Vinnie hustles out and fumbles with some keys for a moment before unlocking the door.

Jake scans the area around the pastry factory before stepping inside. Mafia work had its dangers as evidenced by Vinnie's office. Still, the Italian Shaman felt a sense of camaraderie with the European gang lords that he didn't have with the Asian syndicates.

And Vinnie paid well...

With weaves of mana prepared to tear apart anything with a hostile intent towards his team, Jake nods once to Nameless and flashes a smile towards Iblis before crossing the threshold into the building.

Howling Wolf pulls the Nomad to a smooth stop, and hops out, his senses scanning for any possible dangers, following the others into the building.

Nodding back at Jake, Nameless follows silently in his leader's wake, a few steps back and to the right, scanning the physical and astral alternately for any signs of foul play.

The space inside is small, and much like Vinnie's office back on the Tacoma docks. Cheap office furniture, like a desk and it's chair, adorn the far wall. Closer to the door, a folding table sits with 5 chairs around it.

Vinnie waves all of you towards the chair and glances back to make sure the door gets shut behind you.

The Amerindian man smacks into something invisible head on. He rubs his forehead then tries to walk through the door again.

Iblis slides past him, raising an eyebrow at his antics. "Uhh......everything ok there?"

Jake steps through the door. Feeling the hair raising tingle of passing through active magic, he slips his senses up into the astral and immediately spots the ward.

"Love what you've done with the place Vinnie...this doesn't have anything to do with retaliation over that rowboat does it?"

Waiting to see if the Amerindian is able to blend his astral signature to match that of the ward, the shaman looks to Iblis.

"Our companion is running into the same problem that spirits do when they try to come by the house."

Vinnie chuckles. "Maybe. I hear stories, ya know?" As he notices Wolf bounce off the barrier once more, he shakes his head and motions to someone else in the room.

From around the corner steps a man, average height, average build. His hair is bright red, and his features appear Irish. He's obviously dressed for a run, with a flat black jumpsuit sporting sensor-camouflage and an armored vest under a longcoat. He holds an Ares Alpha casually tucked against one shoulder. Those of you currently astrally percieving see him slide into the astral. His astral form is animalistic, almost feral, with glowing eyes, fangs, and an almost muzzle. He spends a moment with his gaze locked on Wolf, and then reaches out to the ward, shifting something minute in the mana flows. He drops out of astral and nods to Wolf. "Ya should be able ta' com' in nah.", he drawls, Irish brogue thick in his voice.

Interesting Astral form...

He turns to the mage.

"Thank you."

He walks into the rooms and takes a seat, if one is provided.

"So, let's cut to the chase then, shall we? I am given to understand that we are being hired for some wetwork, correct?"

Nameless watches Wolf bounce off the wall a couple times in dry amusement, and raises an eyebrow slightly when the man starts talking. He's used to Jake doing all the talking, but hey, if the other guy wanted in on the conversation, it was no sweat off his back.

Wetwork, huh? Now that's right up my alley. This could get very interesting indeed...

As the team assembles in the small room, you can see it's obviously a hastily erected office. A pre-fab desk, table, and chairs are piled into the room, no attempt made at pleasing aesthetics.

Vinnie motions the group to grab a seat if they want one, and tucks a half-burned cigar into the corner of his mouth.

"Okay, aiirght, right, I'm not going to beat around the bush. Things are definitely heating up around here, and we need to make a major score. Most 'ta you guys helped me out with the boat thing, but this is bigger. I've got Yak's breathing down my neck constantly, and I got no doubt they'll be breathing down yours, too, if'a yous take this job. I aint tryinta scare ya, just laying out the facts, right? So here it is. We want Yamikaza whacked."

The amerindian man leans forward slightly and begins talking.

"While I am not too afraid of the Yakuza's retribution is we carry this out right, I need more information. Who he is, where he lives, who he lives with, how many bodygaudrs he has, and of what type, et cetera. Basically, everything you know about him.

There is also the question of how much we are to be paid."

Vinnie arches a brow at the Amerindian's outburst, and looks to Jake questioningly.

Jake looks at Vinnie with speculative interest, trying to keep the smirk off his face.

"given that Yaamikaza is a Yak and still a member of the family, I'm going to presume he mantained his racial purity", the last words dripping with sarcasm, "after the comet passed from beyond our sight. No outward changes keeps him off certain "hands off" lists. I know myself and my friends have no specific love for the Yaks, but given the circumstances surrounding the name you just dropped I trust you won't mind if I take a moment to confer with a few off-site colleagues."

Jake rises pulling his cell phone from an inner pocket, tailored so as not to disrupt the line and fit of the jacket.

"We'll put a pause on any further information from your end about the mark until other considerations have been dealt with. I certainly don't want to have to look over my shoulder for frineds of the Family for knowing something I shouldn't."

He speaks gently into the phone calling speed-dial 7, Italian rolling gently through the quiet spaces in the room.

Closing the cell phone, Jake retakes his seat.

"My apologies Vinnie. I'm sure you know how these things are, don't get entangled in places the boss doesn't want, that kind of thing."

A quick glance gets thrown to Nameless who shrugs his shoulders and another to Iblis who just smiles.

"Alright, I know the three of us are in. Now given our last little job for you and our efficient tactics for helping your side of the field...let's start talking at say a million each..."

The shaman can't possibly keep a straight face when he throws the number out at the Mafioso...but then again the number wasn't meant to be taken seriously.

Vinnie nods approvingly as Jake takes over negotiations again,and waits patiently as the phone call is made. Looking relieved that Jake's connections haven't veto'd the run, he actually laughs out loud when the number is tossed out.

"You've gotta be kidding me? You're kidding me, right? Of course you are, of course you're kidding me. Look, I'm tacking on a lil' to the price 'cause I need you to accept or not without much other info. Let's start at, say, 100k each, maybe some extra for expenses, a quarter up front."

He settles back into the flimsy chair, already shifting gears for the haggling.

Glancing to Wolf, "Am I negotiating your end of this as well or just my part of the family?"

Back to Vinnie,

"I'm sure you didn't just say a quarter...I must have misheard you saying half up front. That 100k would be our half up front, plus an extra 50 for expenses. That's 50 on the street, but we'll come through you, so obviously your actual cost would be closer to 20. And that's presuming you got raked over the coals by the gangers who happened to pick up what fell off the back of a truck..."

Jake's voice is playful for the most part. Negotiations with Vinnie were always a give and take, with each of them holding strong at certain points and bending in other places.

When Jake asks him a question, Howling Wolf grins and replies, "Sure, as long as you don't drive the price down."

The haggling seems to represent something completely different to Vinnie then is readily obvious. As they go back and forth, each offering up reasons for shifting the price in their favor, and seeming incredulous at the ridiculous amounts the other is suggesting, Vinnie seems more and more like his old self, calmer somehow.

The final offered price is 150,000 a piece, with 50,000 a piece upfront, and including 50,000 for expenses, and provided he acquired said items.

"Well Vinnie, you drive a hard bargain. What can you tell us about the target? After you break down the basics, we'll do a bit of nosing around and bring back the shopping list."

With negotiations complete, and a handshake exchanged, Jake leans back carefully in the flimsy chair. The chairs would hold Iblis without a second thought, but the shaman had a heavy Italian build, so he was careful.

At least he's still in there...some times an attack like that will rattle a person so loose that who they are slips out by accident...

Vinnie gives a slightly chagrined chuckle and passes over a high-resolution photo.

The shot squarely frames an office building, obviously downtown, probably 30-40 stories. The shot is from some distance, as even zoomed in some of the details on the building are a little fuzzy. There's an address which confirms the downtown location at the bottom of the photo.

Behind that is a second photo showing a meticulously dressed Asian man, probably 40-50 years old, but with modern technology it's hard to pin that down. He's climbing into a limosine with two people in pressed suits standing protectively nearby.

The third photograph is of some kind of complex, obviously outside the limits of the city itself. There is a mutli-story parking garage, what looks like a condominum building, and another building, smaller, that resembles a club house of some sort.

"That's Yamikaza there, getting into the car. We know he works at that building," Vinnie taps the skyscraper, "and he lives in that complex," as he taps the collection of buildings.

"That's it." He leans back in another of the flimsy chairs, apparently oblivious to the hazard.

"Two questions. Any time line you want this done by, and does he follow the same route between hime and work, or does he vary it each day?"

Iblis takes in the back and forth of the team and Vinnie. She smirks at the see saw motion of the price but confident that they'll get paid and more work will come. Vinnie was a gold mine, a short and balding one but one none the less. He always came back if you did right by him. She looks around, a little put off by the change of venue but trying to roll with it. It was the nature of the business. You shoot at people, they shoot back at you.

After the questions fly she pops in her own. "Also how slick and quiet does this have to be?"

"Do you have any special requirements for the job, such as making it look like an accident, sending a message, killing his whole family, killing only the target, etc.?" Nameless adds to the list of questions.

Double Post

Vinnie gives a long suffering sigh. "We know he changes his work route at least once a week, but we haven't been able to track when or why he changes it. Besides being about once a week, the changes seem random. That's assuming we actually managed to track him. He's lost us dozens of times just going back and forth to that office building.

I'm not real big on the slick and quiet, but it does need to be discrete. I don't want anything linked back to us. There's going to be enough suspicion anyway, we don't want to give them any proof. You guys have two weeks. We need this done pretty quick, he's hitting our operations pretty hard. Whack whoever you have to to get him, I don't care if it looks like an accident or fraggin' Glow City when you're done."

"Who else would have reason for hitting Yamikaza? Preferably someone you wouldn't mind seeing dropped a few pegs when this is all over..."

Vinnie laughs. "I gotta list a mile long. The Japanese Yakuza could use some quality time with their brethren. Then there's the fraggin' Micks, the Seoulpa, and a gang of bangers out of the Barren's called the Bloodthorns. Anya' them'll do."

Vinnie looks around nervously as his own laughter dies out.

"Heya, look guys, is there any other info you need? This place isn't exactly the most secure, and I'd like ta get outta here as soon as possible."

Iblis rises and walks over to Vinnie as she speaks. "I think we're good for now. We can always call if we need more info." She bends at the waist by his side and plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, pausing to whisper by his ear. "Glad to see you're ok, let me know if you need anything." She rises slightly then bends back down. "And get some new ties." She turns looking to the rest of the team for the exit cue. Style is everything.

Jake shakes his head as Iblis leans down to kiss Vinnie.

"We'll keep in touch. Send the money through the usual channels unless you have the cred with you here. Oh, and give our flower a call and make sure she's still growing."

He motions for the rest of the team to make their exit, the shaman taking up the rear.

Smoothly settling into position slightly behind Jake and to the shaman's right, Nameless nods once at Vinnie and silently exits with the team.

Howling Wolf gets up and follows the others out.

"So, where will we be going to plan? I have a few safehouses that should prove adequate."

Vinnie chuckles a bit as Iblis leaves, shaking his head and nodding the mage towards the door. There's a subtle shift in the mana, probably the restructuring of the wards again.

Mounting his motorcycle, Jake looks over the group.

"Let's head over to Wolf's place. We can use that as a temporary base while we get our feet on the ground."

With the convoy falling in line with Wolf, they leave the pastry factory behind them.

The ride to Wolf's safehouse is quiet and uneventful, each member riding solo and wrapped in their own thoughts.

Jake surveys the squat with bemused interest. This certainly wasn't the kind of place that anyone who knew his team's habits would come looking.

The shaman waits for Wolf to invite them all inside before handing out a list of instructions to his teammates.

Iblis looks around and seems to sigh with relief. "Poor always says home to me." With a giant grin she squats in an out of the way corner as she slings her back pack to the floor in front of her. She begins setting up her deck as she talks. "Ok boys wnat exactly do you want me to look for out in the big bad matrix?"