2012 05 06 11

Sun May 6 2072

Down in Tir Llewn, it looks like Snow and Fray have set up a little bit of a side business. Smuggling. A sleek Toyota elite with a smuggling compartment. Almost invisible, they say. They can get one person out, and they go to the highest bidder. In the tir they pick up a client - but people are watching. People see. Who's paying to get smuggled out? Who's got the dosh - or the importance - to worry about that?

With Fray in the passenger seat, loaded up and good to go, Snow sets out. It's a bad day, because, almost immediately, Snow runs into a road block of about thirty of our good friends, the Blackboot Skins. Two mercenaries, a flashy car and a hidden cargo. What /COULD/ this be? It smells like money.

Snow guns the engine, throwing the car into reverse as the roadblock opens up. The windshield on the unarmored sportscar shatters, glass spraying in the passenger cabin as she steers from over her shoulder. "Frag frag frag frag!" Says she, whipping the car around, the front end pivoting around the ass end.

Fray calmly loads shell after shell into his combat shot gun. "You. Have a filthy mouth."

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