Konton brought his transceiver, subvocal mic, pocket secretary and wrist phone out to Grendel and Raven.

"My humble comm gear. I don't have an encryption or anything like that. I lack the know how to use that kind of thing effectively."

Grendel stood on the open cargo ramp, listening to the team talk amongst themselves. After a minute, the Condor II drone drifted down on nearly silent electric ducted fan engines. It hovered behind him, floating effortlessly on its helium wings for a second, then maneuvered inside the cargo bay to shut down. On his way forward, he glanced over the job Konton had done strapping down his bike. Secure. Good.

Standing in the aisle between the seats, he scanned across the assembled team. Waiting until there was a break in the conversation, he pitched his voice just loud enough to carry.

"I am Grendel. I provide transportation, communication, surveillance, and fire support. Those of you with communications gear, our primary team frequency will be 299.25, our back-up will be 318.55. I run a rotating 128-bit encryption system which is rated eight on the Ares Communications Security scale. If necessary, I can tune that down to match lower ratings of team gear. If anyone is capable of BattleTac interface, set your encryption to today's date and I'll add you in to my system. If anyone doesn't have comm gear, speak up now and we'll see about getting you set up once we're gear down in Corpus."

As he speaks, the bulky elf tunes Konton's transceiver to the correct frequencies, connecting it to the subvocal mic.

"As for our comm plan, I'll be Base."

He counts clockwise from his left, pointing at Raven first, then Leblanc standing next to her, Konton, and finally the seated Miho.

"One, Two, Three, Four. I'll add in our other teammates once we make the rendezvous."

Here, he pauses, a precise interval not unlike a machine switching to the next task.

"Our Johnson offered us a flight plan and clearances to Corpus, which I turned down. Instead, we're going to head North from Seattle, through Salish territory, into the Algonkian-Manitou Council land, then south into the UCAS. We'll stop outside Sioux Falls, there's an airstrip there that doesn't ask too many questions. After that, it's a straight shot south to Corpus Christi. Leblanc, once we're gear down in the UCAS, I need you online to scrub all trace of our flight plan from the system. Same goes for our run to Corpus. I'll handle the border crossings, unless you think you can get us clearance."

He turned to Konton, handing back the transceiver.

"From your demonstration with the luggage, I assume you're our astral support. Any chance we can get cover from a spirit or elemental during our trip?"

"Sure thing, I've got some friends in the divine wind department. We'll have some support during our flight. I can call us up a storm spirit. It can conceal us while we're flying, and provide a boost of speed or a well placed lightning bolt in a pinch. I'll need to be out under the sky to summon it, so I'll have to board the plane outside the hanger."

Konton could already feel the electric anticipation of summoning the storm spirit. Or maybe it was the energy drink.

"If there is nothing else to do before wheels-up, I can go out and get started right now."

Miho sat back in her chair, the headphones playing a rythm that was barely audible. She didn't seem to take offense to the female, and was actually admiring the level of hearing she obviously possessed. She watched as the others arrived, entering into the transport, and looked intently for the strengths and weaknesses of each one, trying to guess their role in this endeavor. Sadly, they all looked like normal people for the most part, it would take some effort to discern who could do what.

Suddenly she realizes she's been asked a question.... "Comm gear? I've always worked solo, no comm gear....", she says in a much to timid voice.

Q picks up his bag almost as soon as he set them down. "Well lets get going then." Hopping in the back and securing his bigger bag he brings the smaller one up front with him.and takes a seat.

The digital display on the P-Comm lit up a fiery red. It was just bright enough to see if you were looking right at it and only if you were touching the indicator button. The process of programing new freq's only took a few seconds. When she was done she placed the equipment in her ear and around her throat.

"Ok set up, we will get Miho, and anyone else who needs comm. gear setup in Texas, the locals were picking up will hopefully have a fixer we can deal with. Mines Rating 6 on Ares scale Grendel, so I hope thats not to low as to compromise our systems. Lets get this bird in the air and get on with it."

She flashed a smile at Miho. She sat down next to the girl, "listen I may have been a little harsh on you, I don't like being startled is all. How about we give this another try, I'm Raven, nice to meet you."

Miho grinned, "Like I said, it's ok Mom. I Miho, Or Four quick man say. I very stealthy, is what I do best, do better than fighting, and am best fighting in whole of family." Sadly, her broken english leaves alot to be desired, obviously not native to the language. But she never once shows contemp or disdain for anyone, her attitude appearing constantly that of a naive child. "Crowded", is her only other response for a bit.

Konton tucked his transceiver unit in a pocket of the jumpsuit. The wireless earbud fit snugly into his right ear. He attached the subvocal mic to his throat, and give the whole system a test.

"Three to all. Testing. My encrypt is non existent. So if possible I would like to pick up a module once we're on the ground at our first location."

Konton spoke in english, although he preffered Japanese whenever subvocalising. It was a a much cleaner language. There were no troublesome th's, ng's, or st's to get lost in the subvocals. But he stuck to english for everyone elses sake.

"I'll be out in front of the hanger, bringing down the heavens. Some one give me a heads up when we're ready to go."

Konton stood out under the rain, which fell with a bit more fervor than it did when he arrived. He looked up into the night sky, and stretched out his arms. The Norito of Winds was an old one, going back at least 1000 years. But the sound of it was very familiar on his lips.

"I declare in the presence of the sovereign gods, whose praises are fulfilled at Tatsuta..." He intoned in Japanese.

Konton felt the barrier between the realm of sky and this one growing thinner. His voice raise in both volume and tempo.

"As to the Heart of the god which shall come forth in the divinings of all the men who are learned in things, declare what god it is..."

The rain coming down doubled in fury. Konton recalled to mind all of the things named to attract the spirit. He had every type of cloth in his luggage. his Nodachi could pass for a spear, and his armor for a shield. As for a horse with a saddle, the Aurora would have to do. He raised one fist into the sky and lightning cracked in the distance.

"Therefore hear, all ye wardens and vergers...great Offerings to be lifted up and brought, and has fulfilled their praises, sending the princes and counselors as his messengers!"

Konton became absolutely still. He peered into the astral in front of him, and watched as a whirling white form coalesced in front of him. It looked like a miniature eastern dragon, white furred and crackling with lighting. Konton braced himself for the struggle of control, and was relieved when the spirit bowed to his will. He had called one small enough that its power wouldn't drain him before his trip either.

"Hello old friend." he spoke to it as it coiled and spun in astral space. "I am going to need your help with some things."

Grendel nodded, moving forward to the cockpit as Konton exited the rear of the aircraft. Strapping in to the semi-reclined seat, he clipped the plug into the jack at the base of his skull. The cockpit came to life, multifunction displays flickering with engine and navigation readouts. With a whine, the rear cargo ramp closed, shutting off the harsh light from the hangar overheads.

Clear left. Number one coming online.

Grendel's voice carries over the primary tac frequency, and echoes from the cabin's overhead speakers. The port engine starter whines, fed by the external power. At fifteen percent RPM, the fuel manifolds inside the turboprop open, and the engine coughs a halo of smoke towards the ceiling. The six bladed constant speed propeller begins to rotate, reaching idle speed in less than thirty seconds. Once the engine has stabilized at a self-sustaining speed, the starter drops offline. Ram exhaust from the engine rattles against the walls of the hangar.

Clear right. Number two coming online.

In rapid succession, the starboard engine is spinning at idle RPM as well. With a thought, Grendel transfers the aircraft over to internal power, bringing both primary generators online and dropping the external power lead. Responding to the same silent radio signal as before, the massive hangar doors crank open. Grendel opens up his comm interface, switching to his own tactical frequency.

On the roll. Watch element released once wheels off deck.

Two clicks acknowledged his instructions.

Releasing the brakes, Grendel added power to the props, taxiing clear of the hangar. The starboard personnel hatch remained open, and he braked to a halt next to Konton. Once the mage was aboard, he closed the hatch on the roll. Taxiing south, he paused at the hold short of 16-34. Running the engines up to full power, he checked green gauges across the board. Throttling back, he taxied forward onto the runway, making the turn north before applying takeoff power. Nine hundred meters later, the Skytruck shudders into the air, shaking itself free of the ground.

Sitting cross legged on the floor of the large plane, Christophe was all ears to Grendel's instruction. Todd wasn't a man impressed easily, and he had heard of the rigger... to quote him: he was "one of the best left alive". Only that was enough for the young decker to revere the elf. That guy was an experience operative; which was a lot more than the young man could say for himself. He was simply too young to have the kind of life and field experience Grendel, Ravenand Konton seemed to have.

Hopefully, I'll be able to make up in raw talent.

But talent took you only so far. Experience kept you alive. Following the examples set by the others should be good enough to keep him in one piece. Or at least, he hoped so.

Once everyone had said their pieces, the teenager decided to jump in.

"Well, concerning the comm gear; I'm all internal... and I'm only rating up to 4." He pointed toward one of his datajack "but I've got enough room for an external module if need be."

He got up and stretched around, putting his baseball cap backwards.

"As for the cleaning up of our flight plan, it is well within my skills... but to be quite honest, you'd make my work a lot faster, and easier, if you could already point me toward the general nodes. I also think I might be able to get us "legit" passes over the board from UCAS to CAS territory... but I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to alter the records. The best bet would be to rip off some corporate air transponder codes, and tag them to us. Working under an Ares blanket would, I think, be our safest bet... They've got a lot of heavy duty military craft... and they're on good terms with both countries."

He looked straight at Grendel.

"As I said; I'll be more than glad to provide a helping hand. If you'd like to point me in the right direction, since your knowledge of this precise sort of operation probably superceeds mine."

As soon as the rigger started making ways toward the cockpit, Christophe quickly jumped in his trail.

"Mister Grendel... is there any way I can assist you? I don't know anything about flying planes... but electronics, I'm good with. I can also do heavy duty math faster than most computers... well, as fast as this one" taps on his head once more "can run. Still haven't overclocked that SPU or encephalon"

He gave him a broad smile.

Grendel or Base.

The rigger gestures to the copilot's seat, his voice level and emotionless over the comms.

Don't try the ATC servers, those are a decker's nightmare. Go for the admin side, where they store and track flight plans. Go back in the archives and find a flight plan that looks a little like what we want to do. Modify it for today and resubmit. We'll file and activate it in flight. How good are you at electronic warfare? I'm talking the wireless kind.

Grendel banked the aircraft around the low hills East of Redmond, the urban wreckage of the barrens flashing past the aircraft just a dozen meters below the fuselage. Someone in one of the buildings lit off an automatic weapon at the plane, but the Skytruck was by so quickly that the rounds found nothing but empty air.

Sitting his small frame in the seat, the decker decided to converse via his own internal comm gear. Via the transducer, his voice seemed emotionless.

"Yea, I heard the ATC were pretty much a labyrinth. Never ventured there... not yet. Unless you've got a connection right in here, I dont have any wireless access already setted all up. I tend to use them and discard them on each jobs. Anyways, soon as I can jack, I'll arrange what is needed."

During a few minutes, the decker went quiet... watching Seattle speed away under him.

"You know of any megacorp that operates these kind of planes in their fleet? I'd love to tag us as a corp flyer, just to stick it to them... And concerning electronic warfare... well..."

Even through the transducer link, Christophe's uneasiness could be detected.

"Lets just say that I've red the manual, just haven't operated the toggles...ever"

Once the plane was airborn, Konton unbuckled his harness and stood in the center of the cabin. Hearing the sound of gunfire from some where below them, Konton called out to his summoned spirit.

"Raitaro, Conceal us on our journey, son of thunder. And call out if we contact any astral beings"

Nestled atop the plane and manifested as a white dragon, the spirit enveloped the skytruck in it's power. The plane did not become invisible, but some how it was just harder to see, hear and detect.

It wasn't perfect but it would have to do.

"Domo arigato gozaimashita, Raitaro-sama." Konton whispered.

"Three to Base. The Concealment is active. If all goes as planned, it should last the duration of our trip. If the situation changes, I'll let you know."

Rather than return to his seat, Konton removed a small bottle of cleanser from his luggage, along with a large wooden brush. He knelt down in the dirtiest corner of the cabin. While there was time, he decided he would give the interior a good ritual cleaning.

Some of the older transport fleets in South America, the Carib League, and Africa utilize the Skytruck or its many variants. Most of the corporate cargo fleets are jet driven, though, the only props are tilt-rotors and cargo choppers for short haul or CAL deliveries. Most corporations have their own transponder codes reserved as well as preferred routes. If you find one that matches our profile, by all means go for it, but it's not a priority.

Grendel pauses as Konton breaks into the channel.

Three, Base, roger, thanks.

He rolled wings level, the Skytruck coursing just above the low haze layer of rain clouds and smog.

If it comes to it, I may need your help with EW. Here are the schematic diagrams of the Skytruck. Here are the pulse trains, frequencies, and wave characteristics of the UCAS and CAS border radars. Based on that information, can you construct a false return that looks like a commuter aircraft, such as an Embraer-Dassault Mistral or a Boeing B/C Jet?

Raven leaned her head back into the seat as the aircraft lifted from the ground. She always loved the sensations at take off. Being pushed into her seat, the snugness of the 5 point harness.

Her stomach did a flip as the plane broke loos of earth confining gravity. She listened to the comm. chatter between Grendel and the rest of the team, happy that it was working out.

Base, one. Whats our ETA for the first leg of the flight?

"Two to Three; wiz trick chummer! While I'm on the topic... do you have any spirits that can give backrubs?"

Chuckling to himself, the decker went back to his conversation with the pilot.

"Alright. As soon as I can go virtual, I'll clean our flight path and check out the corp tranponder codes."

The young man started slightly twitching in his seat, as if trying to get comfortable.

"For the false return; all I need is a computer and some time. I've got one all packed away in its case"

With his thumb, he gestured to the back of the plane.

"If you got any knowsofts or datasofts that could be helpful, I'm wired to that also."

The decker then decided that, while waiting for some feedback, he'd memories all the information offered by Grendel.

"Three, Two. Actually yes. I once summoned up a hearth spirit in a hot spring bath house outside of Kyoto. Her Shiatsu skill was breath taking." Konton laughed over the comm.

Konton continued scrubbing away at the nooks and niches of the plane. Stopping periodically to take another swig of bottled Genki.

"I was hunting what I thought was a shedim that was stalking the halls of a posh resort hotel. I called the spirit to help me locate it originally. For the record...After slugging it out tooth and nail with a demon possessed flesh eating zombie, a really good back massage is just what the doctor ordered."

"Speaking of hotels. Does anyone have an idea of where we'll be going to ground once we hit Corpus Christi?"

Marco

As soon as you are buckled in, the props start to spin up and within a few minutes you are on your way to Texas. The pilot keeps the plane low, in fact, you fear running into tree-tops a few times, but he seems to know what he is doing.

"I used to be a crop-duster!"

One, Base, ETA to Glawe's Airfield is six hours, twenty two minutes, forty seconds.

For a moment, Grendel wished the team was Snake Eyes equipped. Or even BattleTac equipped. Information requests and replies should flow silently and seamlessly among them, the team united as a network of operators, a synthesis of organics and synthetics.

Roger that Base, I am going to catch some shut eye. Wake me if you need me.

Raven slid on her Oaklies. The lenses polarized to black with the touch of a finger to block out all the light. She slipped in some ear plugs to reduce the immense noise from the prop driven engines. Slowly she worked her muscles through a relaxing routine that she had honed to perfection for her Olympic training, it served her here equally well.

Five minutes later she was sleeping soundly in her harness.

Satisfied for now with the cleanliness of the aircraft, Konton relaxed back into his seat. He broke out his pocket secretary, and went over a few things. It would be a long flight, and he would have plenty of time to think.

Konton INFOOGLED the name of the stuff that Leblanc was drinking. But the only thing the computer could come up with was some kind of wild bird. Konton had heard of UCAS locals drinking something called "Wild Turkey". Perhaps this was the same stuff.

Konton sent off a Trid-Mail message to Shimo back in Seattle.

"Konbonwa Shimo-chan. I'm heading down to Corpus Christi, Texas. I have to help a friend out with some noises in their attic. Have you heard anything recently about what sorts of trouble i might get myself into down there? Also I might find myself in Atzland if the party gets wild enough. Any souvenirs you'd like from feathered serpent country?"

He removed the backdrop of the plane, and filtered out the noise. One drag and drop later switched in a generic Sea-Tac airport background. Then Konton hit the encrypt button, and pressed send. Hopefully he would hear back from her before they reached Texas.

Konton opened another Genki Drink for himself, and passed one down to Miho, who seemed to be rather enjoying whatever she was listening too on her headphones. Noting that as a good idea, Konton wired his pocket secretary into his tranceiver, and used his own earpiece as a speaker for it. He selected some Taiko mp9s and queued up a few hours worth. The sound of drums and chanting filled his ear.

Konton put his feet up, and opened up the Data file at last. He pulled a long thin opti-stylus from the secretary, and started jotting down notes. It was going to be a long flight...

Q get in and the guy starts it up faster then he thought he would. Q still trying to store his bags as the plane hops forward. Falling over Q quickly trys and to finish and get into a seat and strapped in.

Once all strapped in and set Q starts to enjoy this crazy bobbing and weaving over the hills staying close to the ground. he with a load " YEEEEEEEEE HAAAYYY" but that only give the pilot the signal to stop playing it safe (well as safe as he would ever take it being the crazy son of a b that he is). Q's in this for the long haul.

"YEEEEEEEEE HAAAYYY"

Sitting in the copilot's seat, Christophe had started exploring his surrounding; running his hands on the controls and the pannels... with great care not to actually press anything. He tend turned his face toward the elf sitting next to him and stared at him for a full minute; observing and studying him.

There was a million questions the young runner felt like asking... but that would have figured him as a total rookie; something he desperatly wanted to avoid. He opened his mouth, as if he was about to speak, but refrained from it. His attention went back to the scenery outside the cockpit's windows.

This was a big operation... someone was paying the top people top creds... which was starting to make him a bit uneasy. Out of habit, he reached over and started fishing around his pockets for his flask. Once he finaly found it, he brought it to his lips and stopped dead in his tracks; hesitation running throught his mind.

Frag it...

He took a big swig.

So... any of you know a guy who goes by the handle Wraith?"

Miho is very glad for the drink, it was something she hadn't considered, and her mouth was dry at the anticipation of flying. It was wierd the way her brain seemed to be effected by the centrifigal force of the plane, as if the whole of her brain were pushed to the back end of her skull, making her head feel heavy. She leaned back in the tilted seat, and tried to look out the window, but there wasn't really much to see. She found she lacked the will to take her head off the seat, and any attempt to do so made her feel a bit nauseous. So she closed her eyes, and drank the drink. "Domo arigato" she says as she finally pulls the drink from her lips.

Know of him, yes. Worked with him, no. He's supposed to be retired from the business and fixing now, but was a Hell of a thief in his day.

Grendel dimmed the cabin lighting to a faint red glow, hoping to help ease the rest of the team to rest. Flying NOE was uncomfortable at the best of times, NOE in this beast was probably no small nightmare. He watched Leblanc through the cockpit surveillance camera as the young decker watched him, and wondered momentarily at the man's motivations. If this mission went well, he'd consider utilizing him in follow-on work. Deckers willing to get their hands dirty in the field were hard to come by, and invariably valuable.

"Oh I see... Well, thats a reassuring thing to heard. He was the chess playing man... our Johnson for this run. It wasn't necessarly him that was logged into the chat room, but it was him who made the reservation. I was going to dig deeper to assure this was all "legit"... but I came short on time. "

The decker stretched in his seat. It was time for him to go to work. Unpacking his precious custom made deck from his shoulder carrying case, he craddeled it in his lap. Slowly caressing the keyboard for a few second, psyching himself up, he finaly pulled out the hair thin optical fiber cable to his datajack.

"Two to Base; if I start twitching... you pull on this"

A small smirk, and he dived into the virtual realm.

Team, Base, gear up, get hot, we're five minutes out from Corpus. Return your tray tables and seat backs to their upright and locked positions.

Grendel kept a close watch on the #2 engine's oil pressure and oil temperature gauge. Somewhere over the forests of the Algonkian-Manitou Council he'd managed to blow the oil filter, causing a temperature spike in the system and spraying hot oil all over the engine bay. Luckily, Sioux Falls had spares on hand, and the turn-around time was only an hour or so. The failure hadn't surprised him, he was subjecting the forty year old airframe to maneuvers that would be taxing even for a modern aircraft. He would speak to the Johnson about an overhaul here on the ground prior to their return to Seattle.

The Skytruck bumped as it dropped down to two hundred meters of altitude, riding out a wave of thermal turbulence. Grendel felt the upwelling current slide across the fuselage, a towering invisible cyclone driven by solar heating of the multicolored rangeland below.

Four kilometers out from the airfield he dirtied up the aircraft, Fowler flaps deploying and heavy duty landing gear dropping from their recessed bays. The Skytruck rattled and creaked, complaining about the speed of the approach. Grendel spread his fingers, the flaps opening up another notch. He traded airspeed for rate of descent, the nose of the aircraft rising above the horizon. The airfield's fenceline flashed past beneath them. He chopped the throttles on the engines, bleeding off the last of the aircraft's excess speed. They hit with a thump, the nose dropping quickly to the ground. Grendel brought the throttles into beta, listening as the props twisted to add their counter-thrust to the brakes. The two board flashed past at forty knots. Watching the groundspeed slow, the rigger came on the brakes at the one board, finally slowing the aircraft to something resembling a normal taxi speed. He swung the heavy cargo aircraft off the runway on the roll, taking the last exit onto the parallel taxiway.

In the cargo bay, the Condor II drone, dormant since Sioux Falls, came to life. A series of soft clicks echoed from within its fuselage as automated self-checks ran on the sensor system as well as navigation and propulsion. The twin ducted fan engines ran up from standby to idle then back to standby.

A vehicle parked next to one of the hangars lining the taxiway flashed its headlights, and Grendel altered course. He completed the shutdown on number two, feathering the propellor. The flaps and spoilers retracted to their stowed position, and the aircraft's nav and anti-collision lights flickered off. The Skytruck slowed, carefully nosing its way into the confines of the hangar.

Cargo bay door opening.

The rear ramp dropped silently on its hydraulic rams, the punishing flight having loosened the binding corrosion that hampered its earlier operation. With a wheeze, the number one engine spooled down from idle, leaving the airfield once again in relative silence. Grendel stood, ejecting the the aircraft's interface cable from his jack. The Condor II lifted from its position on the deck, negotiating the open cargo door with ease before exiting the hangar and lifting into the sky. Surveillance images immediately came to life in Grendel's vision, the three hundred and sixty degree panorama overlying his normal view in a forty percent mask. The rigger moved back through the cargo bay, disengaging the Bison's tie down straps by giving the ratchets a swift kick to open their locking jaws before pulling enough slack in to unhook them from their padeyes. The Bison's engine snarled to life and the vehicle shifted over to internal power. Grendel disconnected the aircraft's power umbilical, stowing it to the side. The rear left passenger door opened, and he slid into the command couch.

Bison backing, stand clear.

Disengaging the parking brakes, the rigger slowly backed the Bison and its trailer from the aircraft's cargo bay. Once clear, he turns and points the heavy van towards the hangars open doors. During the flight he'd covered the submersible with a pair of plain blue tarps, and altered the settings on the Bison's skin of photovoltaic paint. Instead of its usual storm gray metallic exterior, the heavy van was now dressed in plain utility blue with stenciled white letters on the side reading J & J Marine Salvage and Repair. Reaching over to the travel cooler stashed between the two second row bucket seats, Grendel retrieves a can of 3LIT3 Rush soda, savoring the electric acid bite of the drink. Now it was time to work.

Team, Base, gear up, get hot, we're five minutes out from Corpus. Return your tray tables and seat backs to their upright and locked positions.

The sound of the stoic elf’s voice drifted into Raven unconsciousness. She had been asleep for pretty much the whole trip. She used the time in Sioux Falls to limber up and exercise and then it was back to sleeping on the noisy plane.

Her eyes opened slowly to darkness. A touch of the button depolarized her glasses to just a few shades darker than the non tinted glass. She wanted the eye protection but not the obscuring effect of the heavy tint.

Greatest invention after the Smartlink for shooters.

She stayed hooked up to her crash harness till after the aircraft came to a complete stop. She unhooked herself and quickly collected her gear following the Riggers van out the back of the aircraft.

The first thing she noted about Texas was the wave of stifling heat that slammed into her as she walked down the aircrafts loading ramp. The second thing she noticed was how humid the air was. A layer o sweat instantly formed on her.

This is going to suck for armor.

Base, One, you know what the plan is from here? Oh and is your van AC'd? Please say yes.

One, Base, we should be receiving final tasking and personnel from our Johnson before proceeding with our intial reconnaissance of the target. We need to utilize our local contacts for safehouses and additional comm gear for the team, as well as any supplemental equipment requests we develop in the course of our planning for the extraction. The Bison is fully climate controlled.

Excellent.

Raven climbed into the van and stowed her gear in the rack next to the large side door.

"Hope you don't mind Grendel, I'm not dressed for the hot weather," Raven said out loud.

When he heard the engine slow down, Christophe finally opened his eyes. He hadn't been able to catch any sleep in almost 24 hours... Straight from his clubbing night out, he had went to work on Wraith, then had met his fellow teammates, and had flown halfway through the continent. The lag from the satellite connection had simply increased his already throbbing headache, and as soon as he had been over with it, sleep had overcame him.

Still groggy, the teenager leaned in his seat, getting a glimpse of the surrounding airfield. Yawning and stretching all the way during the landing procedures, he was right behind Grendel when the elf left the cockpit. Giving a large smile, and a wink, to Raven as he passed her, he went to work on his own gear. All his ware had been stowed away securely for the flight, and unbuckling everything was a witch with a capital B.

Munching on his sunglasses, the decker could do nothing but pull, push and curse in french under his breath.

"Yo, Konton-san... yea, mate, would you mind giving me a little hand with all this? The gear isn't really fragile... its just too much for my punny little self to carry"

As he approach the opened rear door, Leblanc immediately backed off in the plane. The outside felt like an oven: the air was terribly hot. Way too hot for him to handle. Sure, it got hot during the summer where he was from... but never that hot and that humid. The flight had already turned his half empty stomach upside down, added with the alcohol he had consumed, the hot air only made him feel sicker.

Taking his busted up baseball cap off, her looped it to his belt, letting his blue hair shine in the texan sun. The color was already quite striking in the normal light of day... but under direct assault from the sun, it was blinding.

Man... and I hate sweat... I'm gonna have to change out of these clothes, and fast.

Approaching Raven, he dropped some of his things next to her's.

"I know what you mean Ravie... I can't stand the heat either."

It took him a few moments to realize that not far from them, was standing someone. Out of paranoia, the decker moved his hand to the small and sleek grip of his narcojet pistol, stowed on the small of his back. He closed his fingers around it... but didn't draw. Neither Raven nor Grendel had made a move... and they were definitely the senior heads amongst the team.

"Who the frag's that?"

Raven shrugged out of her long coat, "frellin heat, " she said under her breath. With the coat of she was a little cooler but not much. She noticed Leblanc make a move for his gun. The corners of her mouth quirked up.

Good instincts Two but I think thats our contact. Base, One, cover me whilst I say 'howdy'.

Raven polarized her glasses and stepped out into the oppressive heat. The air ripled as it rose of the superheated tarmac around her. She kept her hand away from her pistol as she walked out to greet who she hopes is their local contact.

"Hey, you here for the ghost?"

One; better safe than sound: I gotcha. If he even looks at you funny, he's going sleepy.

The man standing outside the hangar looks like the most stereotypical texan you've ever seen. Jeans, white shirt, leather duster and a cowboy hat. Appearance wise, you'd have one heck of a time picking him out of a crowd. He nods his head and tips his hat to [b]Raven[b], "Yes mam, I sure am."

His accent is perfect and as he speaks two things happen. First, another plane comes in for a landing. Its a small single prop with a strange painting that makes it damn hard to pick out of the sky. Second, a taxi pulls up and the door opens.

"Looks like the gangs all 'ere. Why don't yal get acquanted and we'll mosey on inside fer a chat."

"Right." She turned and walked back to the Bison, making sure to leave a clear angle of fire for Leblanc.

Team, One, were meeting the locals inside. Base, I'll leave an open comlink if you would rather stay out here.

Once back inside the Bison she opened her sealed duffle and pulled out a black tank top.

"I'll join you guys in a minute."

"One: can I just shoot him on principles? I mean... we're in Texas and our contact's a cowboy..."

From his position near the Bison's door, and still gripped around the handle, the young decker hailed the texan.

"Hoi mate, I don't want to be rude, but just make sure you stay where I can see you."

He beamed him a large smile.

The texan smirked in responce. "Put that pee-shooter away son, I don't take kindly to kids bein' rude... even if they don't wanna be."

Christophe left his hand right where it was. The guy had a certain charm to him, especially the accent... but most of the team was still in a very vulnerable position.

The young runner would probably had simply backed off, seeing Raven's reaction toward the man... but the word the man had used... the "kid"... that had stung him.

"No hard feeling Pops; just doing my job."

Raven waived her hand at Leblanc.

"Its good Gabe, even if he wanted to hurt us, I imagine those racks of AV missiles in the back would make short work of just about anything."

She absently pointed to the missiles in the auto loaders in the far back of the Bison.

Raven turns her back to the door and Gabriel and strips of the longsleeve shirt she was wearing, followed by the top half of her FFB. Her bear back is exposed for a moment, broken only by the line of her dark braw. She slips the black Tank top over her head and lets out a sigh.

"Man this heats a killer."

Ok, everyone but Base, inside.

Grumling for himself, he took his hand off the pistol, trying to loosen up a bit. With the coolest voice he could muster, he replied to the elf.

"You bet Rave... I don't even think they get snow here..."

The texan pulled out a bag from his pocket, pulled out a white sheet of paper and rolled his own cigarette. Leaned back against the hangar and lit it up, waiting for the crew to gather. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he gave Chris a wink.

Christophe replied to the texan's wink with a large smile of his own, showing his white pearl theet.

Yea... count yourself lucky cowboy... You do just that... Puff away...

Hearing the rustle of clothes just behind him, the decker face was covered with a smirk. Putting his yellow sunglasses back on, he slightly turned his head, stealing a brief look at the beautiful elf changing shirt. After all... the heat wasn't soo bad.

Chuckling on his way, he went inside.

Contrary to Raven's imiplication that he would utilize the Bison's heavy batteries on the Johnson if things got dicey, Grendel knew it would have been expeditious to simply run him over. He was well inside the missile's minimum arming distance. Empty threats were counterproductive. A professional held his hand in reserve until events forced him to act. And then he acted with overwhelming, irresistable force. He spread the windows of his network out around him, releasing the safeties on the Bison's weapons while bringing the EW console active. The network was on a war footing now, one step away from full blown action. He was ready to work.

As the taxi pulled up, Carmen got her first real look at her team mates. Like the matrix, it was a mixed bag. She herself was a sight. Aztlander heritage was apparent, with long dark brown hair and coffee colored eyes. Her clothing was tight and revealing, on the border of taste. She walked with the assurance of one accustomed to turning every head in the room. Heading over to the others, she said "Welcome to Corpus Christi, I'm Carmen."

Miho is cute. Raven is attractive... but this one his HOT

For a few seconds, Christophe didn't reply anything. He quite simply dumbly stood in his spot, starring at her wit his mouth slighly open.

"Mon dieu..." he whispered to himself.

The decker suddently snapped back from whatever fantasy he was in, and erase the amazed look from his face. Taking his most charming smile, the one he kept for backup situation like this one, he made a few steps toward Carmen.

"Miss Carmen" he extend his hand toward her, with the intention of grabbing her's and kissing it "I'm Gabriel. It is..." over his sunglasses, he looked at her from head to toe "more than a pleasure to meet you."

Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Hot. Most not stare. Most not stare. Eyes up dude... EYES UP! She won't notice. Quickly look. No... Eyes up. Focus. Be cool. Yea. Keep your cool.

Carmen let him take her hand, with it's perfectly manicured nails, and gave him a smile meant to put him at ease. She was perfectly aware of the effect she had on men, and while it had it's moments, it would definetly get in the way if her new companion was too awestruck to say more than a couple words to her. "You are too kind."

Konton finished kitting himself out for the meet. He didn't have any body armor that worked with short sleeves, but he decided safety was preferable to comfort. He chose baggy pants and an okinawan long sleeve kariyushi shirt. Most westerners didn't appreciate the bright colors and outlandish designs of the kariyushi. Konton thought it was perfect for Texas. This particular one was every shade of blue, and featured koi swimming among chrysanthemums.

He made sure both conceal holsters were snug behind his back. Ungyo and Agyo were his two huge silver plated long barrel pistols. He loaded one with gel, and the other with live rounds. Into the holsters they went. He smoothed the back of his shirt over them. So long as Konton didn't bow too deeply, the pistols should remain concealed. If he had his druthers, a dual underarm crossdraw shoulder rig would have been best, with a suit jacket to cover them. But with the heat, he was pushing it as is.

Taking one last look at his arsenal, he snapped up a dual charge grenade, and dropped it in a pants pocket. On went the IR shades, and he stuck a wasabi flavored toothpick in his teeth. A micro corder on a lanyard would have completed the illusion, but most Johnsons frowned on bringing video recording gear to a meeting.

Konton was anxious to started. He had looked over the info on the extractee, and had already formulated a plan to contact her. He would have to run it by the team after the meeting. But for now, it was time to see what Texas would make of the young Nippon born sorcerer.

Konton exited the van just as Raven was doubling back to change. She gave the call for everyone to move inside for the face to face. Apparently while he was gearing up, Leblanc and the Johnson almost started a fire fight. Lots of energy on this team...Konton thought to himself.

And now, just as he was about to go inside, he noticed Leblanc fawning over the most stunning elf Konton had ever seen. He nearly gasped but caught himself. LOTS of energy on this team indeed.

Konton broke etiquette and interrupted them to greet Carmen.

"Konbonwa." He bowed deeper than he should have considering his armaments.
"I'm Konton. I was Ki in the chatroom. I'm here for magical support, so if you need a spell or a spirit, do not hesitate to ask.

"Corpus Christi is a very beautiful city, I would love to hear more about it when you have some time."

"Shall we go inside?"

Chris gave the nipon's back a dark look.

Oh yea... you want to play it like that! You just take a number, buddy...

"Konton-san, I think Raven just called you... she had questions for you, or something like that." He immediately turned toward Carmen, stepping in front of Konton.

"May I give you hands with any luggage? That is, if you have any."

The young decker picked up whatever she hands him.

"...So... You're an expert in illusion, right? I can't wait to see you work your hips I MEAN MAGIC. I can't wait to see you work your magic!"

STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID

Trying to act all cool, he gave her another smile. Observing her, as subtly as he could (well... it was more like staring but...) Carmen's face suddently seemed rather... familiar.

"Hey........... are you an ex trid star or model?" he started fumbling over his words "I mean, I'm not just saying that because... ya know... its just that I've got a strange feeling I've seen you somewhere before."

Are those real?

"Strange.. she didn't say anything over the comm after asking us all inside."

Konton immediately realized what Leblanc was up to. The young man was definitely smitten with the beautiful elf. Konton didn't blame him in the least. In fact, he was a little ashamed of his own behavior. Konton would have to be careful of Carmen's effect on him. He had no desire to see what effect a jealous teenage decker would have on his credit rating.

However he was also not going to play wingman for Leblanc's blatant and juvenile passes. He would have to have a chat with Leblanc, as soon as they had a spare moment. Some of the best runners in the biz are women. But often time they can have a hell of an effect on team dynamics.

Konton's thoughts were interrupted when he caught the tail end of Leblanc's last statement. Carmen was spell caster too! His internal judgement was getting worse by the moment. He smiled brightly and lowered his mirror-shades. He gave Carmen a long look astrally.

Perhaps he could steer the team back toward business and get himself some time aside with Carmen.

"Carmen, perhaps you and I should call up a couple of watchers, and maybe a city spirit to keep an eye on the hanger while the meeting takes place?"

"Delighted to have a second spell caster on board, by the way. Illusions, neh? I'm a combat caster myself, Dragon Slayer totem." He said with a smile.

"If you don't mind me asking, what tradition do you follow?"

Okay...now this was getting getting out of hand. Last thing they needed was jealousy getting in the way of operations. "I don't live far from here, so I don't really have anything in the way of baggage." she said when Leblanc offered to carry her luggage. Apparently he had seen some of her films... "I've starred here and there, trying to move up to bigger and better things, though. I'd love to show you guys around if we have the time."

Turning her attention to Konton, she returned his assensing as she said. "Some precautions would indeed be in order. I follow Parrot. But first, I should probably take the time to introduce myself to the others."