Camp Iwannahateameta

GM: Vulcan
Players: Tanasen, Wickliff, Julian, Kassandra
Synopsis: A synopsis of what happened here.
Date: August 7th, 2069


The Meet

And so: YOU GET TO PICK what contact calls you. The contact is not hiring you, but instead, is passing on a job offer, a sort of reach-out-and-touch someone for the shadow world. The instructions are simple: Be at the Platte River Social Club, a Marina in the Pueblo Corporate Council, at 11pm tonight. Come ready to work.

Tanasen prepares himself as best he can, getting his rover loaded up with drones and getting his bribe money ready to get him past the boarder. He really needs to cultivate his contacts to the south.

It was so nice when friends came through, Wickliff thought, as he zipped up his armored undersuit. It had been fifteen minutes since he'd gotten back from the gym, 13 since he'd unstrapped his Colt Manhunter from a concealed rig and gotten out of his other, smaller armored undersuit, and 10 minutes since he'd had a chat with his Dealer, Gottard, about an exciting new job opportunity. He neartly folds his camouflage full suit, and shoves it into his kitbag, along with his Kalashnikov, load bearing gear, ammunition, and other supplies. Zipping up his secure jacket and street clothes, and checking the time on the exterior display to his wristphone, he shoulders the bag, and heads out the door. A call to a smuggler friend gets him a route to the Marina. He smirks. Maybe he'd get to hijack a boat.

Julian packs a few things into his massive dufflebag, tossing it into the back of a GMC Bulldog. He drives towards the PCC, his R6 SIN ready, hoping a UCAS security permit will have some weight in the Corp Council. If not, a credstick sits in the cupholder. He makes the checkpoint at 8pm.

The marina. Man. 'Social Club'. 'Marina'. Both are absurd stretches of the common uses of those terms. There's a few bassboats tied up to the small river dock, and the peeling paint of the old saloon reads 'Social Club'. It's the kind of back woods, backwater bar that is serviced by a couple locals and exists entirely on the graces of local alcoholism.

Julian gets out of the van, wearing a nice pair of khaki slacks and a black polo shirt. He's even thrown a brush through his snow-white hair, and trimmed his muttonchops. He grimaces and rubs his chin. "I got dressed up for /this/?" he grumbles, shrugging and moving towards the entrance.

Tanasen shows up a little before the stated time, tires coming to a stop in the parking area and the engine stalling. Steping out, he takes a look around the location shadowed by the late night hour before locking up his truck and heading inwards after a quick pat to make sure his pistol is holstered inside his jacket.

Hopping off his Aurora, and activating the anti-theft system, Wickliff walks a little ways to the Social Club, making sure to park at least a couple blocks, or their equivalent, away. Wearing jeans, boots, and a black secure jacket, he tries to look like any other schmoe walking to a bar. He sighs a little, disappointing as he sees the Marina. "Fragging Oh-Esses."

Researching the site beforehand, Kassandra will be dressed for the sector and the marina. She leaves the van of the evening a block away and makes her way towards the marina with a speculative eye towards the building. Ocean had told her there was work to be had, and so she is here.

The bar is somewhat active, it being a saturday night. The Pueblo Corporate Council, she's not so anti-anglo as the others. The Hopi and zuni who formed the nation had a good solid head on their shoulders and saw what casting 'all the white man' out would do their economy. AS such, they have the most superheated economy of the Native American Nations.

And the highest population of white trash. Which is what you have here. Entering the bar, it's a dark place, no big screen trid with the game, instead its an old juke box, a pool table, a dart board, a small band-stand thats currently used for storage space instead of banding or standing. There are people here, at the bar, in a pair of booths along the wall, and then there's the booth at the back of the bar, the sort of thing that says RUNNERS GO HERE. Only not, because that would be absurd.

Julian steps into the bar smoothly, confidently, and tusked. Once he notices the clientele, he's instantly on alert, trying to keep a casual expression as he regards the people in the bar as if to determine which one might pull a lynching rope from under a table. He slips up to the bar, reaching into a pocket. "You accept UCAS scrip?" He asks the bartender politely, his guttural troll voice rumbling.

"Mister." Says the bar keeper, who knows better than to lip off to a trog that can toss a punch like a freight train. "I take anything thats tradeable. I prefer nuyen, but I'll take script." A pause then. "You ain't a local, is ya, big boy?"

First stop, the bar. Wickliff takes a step inside, glancing around at those that frequent the place as he makes his way to the bar, waiting his turn for the bartenders attention, he takes a some paper currency, nuyen, out of his jacket pocket, counting out enough to get a bottle at least. De facto international currency was a mercenaries best friend, especially in Denver. When he gets a chance, he orders something domestic, not planning on drinking it. "Know a place I can charter a boat?" He asks, as a bit of small talk.

Indian? Maybe some, maybe some Mexican in her. Hard to say, but one thing Kassandra is NOT is Anglo. She makes her way into the Social Club, the billed Arizona Diamondback's cap casting shadows across her face. The woman hrms and shrugs, heading to the 'ladies' room first and careful not to touch much. On the way she gives the place a once over, checking for the usual suspects and in general just being careful.

Tanasen is figuring he isn't going to be the only one on the job, but hasn't seen anyone yet he knows..until he steps into the bar. The huge form of the trog standing at the bar is pretty unmistakable for anyone that knows him well, and he naturaly gravitates towards Julian. "Don't tell me this is where you go for vacation?" He says with a chuckle and punches the trolls arm, lightly. He doesn't want to hurt himself.

Julian grins a bit. "That obvious, huh?" He chuckles and seperates some bills onto the bar, about half again as much as the drink costs, pushing it over. "Call it an exchange fee… I'll have a bourbon, neat" He shoves the rest of the currency back into his pocket. "I came with the understanding there was work to be had here?" He turns to Tanasen and gives the man a nod. "Well if it isn't my favorite Cutman. Good to know you'll be watching my enormous green-skinned backside."

In the booth at the back, the one with the neon-sign-that-isnt, is a young man, somewhat in his mid 20s. Hard to tell with elves, but you know how it goes. There's a placard on his table that reads 'marina club'.

Coughing a little, and thanking the barkeep for his beer, whenever it arrives, Wickliff pushes off from the bar, and heads towards the oh-so-inconspicuous back table, approaching the man sitting there, "Evening, Sir. I was thinking about inquiring about membership." He says, motioning to the placard, taking a sip of his beer.

The gentleman in the booth looks up to Wickliff… "Your… the sailor? The guy who knows boats?"

Returning from the ladies room, Kass will make her way towards Mr. Corner Booth. She stops at a polite distance away, letting Wickliff chat up the man first while she waits her turn, casting another glance around.

"Glad my chum's boosting me up. Depends on the boat, but yeah, thats me." Wickliff responds, motioning his head towards a seat in an inquiring manner, politely.
Name set.

Julian collects his lowball glass when it's delivered and nods his thanks to the bartender, gripping it in his massive hand as he turns towards the back. He pauses, same as Kass does, letting Wickliff do his thing before approaching. He lifts the glass to his face and sniffs it once, then brings it to his lips and tips it back, sipping a bit of the liquid before righting the cup and pausing to let the bourbon roll through him.

Jorden gestures then to the seat. "Come on, have a seat." He says, looking past Wickliff to Kassandra. "And… you are… the… facilitator?"

Wickliff takes his seat at the booth quietly, schooching in because, with the looks of that troll, someone might have a tough fit.

Nodding to the gentleman, Kassandra remarks, "Indeed." She considers the booth and slides in as well, pulling the bill of her cap down a bit more.

Tanasen hands with Julian. No better protection than a big meatshield to keep him safe if shit starts flying. And while waiting with him keeps an eye on who else might be showing to this little shindig. "You think this is on the up and up?"

"That means…" Says Jorden, accepting the answer… "That this is the muscle…" And the he looks past the trog to Tanasen… "That means he's the reconnaissance specialist?

Julian approaches the booth, sliding by an empty table and snagging a chair, carrying it with him. He leans over to Tan and mutters. "If it's not, it'll be a fun night." He arrives at the booth and raises his glass. "You must be the Contractor?" He nods and sets the chair down along the side of the booth in the aisle. He regards the chair suspiciously for a few moments, even pushing down on the seat a few times to test it before sitting.

Tanasen settles in with the rest easily enough, not having to test his own seat for sturdiness. "I'm guessing so. SO, whats the news that brings us out to this…place of buisness?"

"My name's Jorden… Jorden Carinthiel… and I'm an elf." he says as though thats some sort of secret. "My wife." He says, pulling out a folder, offering it over to whomever wants it… "Is Maria. Our daughter, Theresa. They are Robustus, not Nobilis. It's why we left the Tir, actually. I'm a farmer by trade, and we moved to Brooks, California Free State. I had a bit of money I used to buy land there, back in 59. It was good land, and while there was racism, it wasn't like in the Tir."

Kassandra reaches for the folder, nodding quietly to the story the man is telling. Her expression is neutral at the moment, not letting any evidence of what she may be thinking rise to the surface.

Julian listens quietly and sips his bourbon. With Kassandra here, he knows who should do the talking.

New to this neck of the woods, Wickliff keeps quiet, taking a look at the folder when its available, "Hmm…" He ponders… leaving words to the woman dubbed the 'facilitator'.

Tanasen rubs his fingers together in thought. "I see." he mutters softly, obviously thinking something else about the situation.

Kassandra will only keep the folder for a few seconds, flipping through the file and passing it off, reviewing what she's seen as their possible employeer talks. She keeps her hands on the table after dealing with the file and in sight. A small smile, professional and not flirting, crosses her lips as if encouraging the man to talk about something that might be a bit hard for him.

THe folder contains pictures of an adolescent orkish girl, pretty enough despite her robustus nature. "We moved down here, got two good crops under us… and then Saito." He shakes his head. "Suddenly we had 90 different roadblocks to shipping our grain… getting fertilizer. Suddenly we had a lot more problems. Two years ago, we had a Japanese advance force take our tractor and half our cattle. We muscled on though, figuring that was the worst of it." he exhales then.

"Three weeks ago, she went in to town to get supplies. TooK theresa with her.. I don't know exactly what happened, but it was minor, some kind of accidental insult to a Japanese Captain currently in town… and now…" he shakes his head. "She and my daughter are in their fucking internment camps."

Julian looks at the folder a moment, then passes it along. "I'm in." he says simply as he moves the folder to the next person. He thinks for a second. "Oh, right… forgot… money." He leaves the negotiations to Kasandra, but he's already made his decision.

Tanasen gives a little nod himself, obviously not a big fan of the japanese occupation forces down there. "I'm with him. You want us to get them out?"

Finishing with the folder, Wickliff passes it on, "Ambitious. I'm on. Though, if its not overstepping my bounds, why not look for some more local talent?" A merc, he was more used to straightforward negotiations. He doesn't give any noble mention about foregoing payment.

Kassandra seems content to check on the others at the table and let them answer and talk as they may, not making any move to shush or occupy the conversation. Instead, she glances at their Johnson for the evening to see his answer to the questions put to him.

"You are local." Says Jorden then. "And everyone in my area has passed on the job. The Berryessa Island camp, where they are being held at? It's well defended and no one wants to risk it. Or… to be honest, risk it for what I can offer. I already sold my farm, but I only got 100,000 after taxes. It's yours, I just want them back."

Julian nods and considers, turning to Tan. "You bring Big Brother?" He asks the man before looking back towards the others.

Tanasen nods to Julian. "Big Brother and Brother Widow. Never leave home without them." he says as he takes his own peek at the file as it reaches him. "Well, place like that, always good chances to liberate them of various items in the process of letting all hell loose to suppliment any needs that come up." He smiles a little as he finishes the file.

'When did the whole world switch to gold dust as a currency.' Wickliff thinks, nodding, visibly, at the answer.

Nodding, Kassandra says to Jorden, "We all seem to be in agreement that we are willing to take on your case, Sir."

prisoncamp.jpg

Jorden nods then, looking very releived for a moment. He raises one hand to wipe his brow, then gestures… "In th folder, you'll see Lake Berryessa. It's a resivoir, used for the japanese agri-coms… the dam's 120 years old, but sold…"

Julian eyes the image quickly, reaching up to rub his chin. "We're gonna need a bunch of boats…" he says more to himself. But he says it out loud.

Closein.jpg

Kassandra nods and remarks, "All right. When we have recovered them, where should we bring them to? Is there any sort of phrase they would associate with you so that we can identify ourselves to them?"

Jorden exhales. "I've gotten some word to them, so they know I want to do something. They know if they see… A purple unincorn, to trust and go with them."

Tanasen nods a bit and lets out a soft sigh. "Well, this is gonna take a bit of planning, to say the least. You don't take a place like that down without serious planning and gear. Thankfully we've got plenty of the latter, and just need time to get the former."

"Easy enough to access, with the funds provided…" Wickliff muses out loud, "Small inflatable with a quiet outboard…" The rest zips back to his internal monolouge, nodding slightly to Tanasen.

Julian frowns and points. "What are these red dots? Guard towers?"

Jorden gestures to those as Julian asks… "Actually, yes. It's a fairly low tech camp, relying on the deep water, the relative isolation… Those are guard towers with spotlights and some visual scanning gear, primarily thermographic." eh says, reaching in to a dufflebag next to him. He pulls up a box, which he opens. "I.. got you one. Figured they may be helpful. Mitsuhama Electronics 302 Thermographically activated Camera."

Purple unicorn. Kassandra produces a small secretary and makes a few notes, eyes traveling to the camera a moment and the map as the questions are asked. She scribbes a few more electronic notes as the others speak.

Julian nods his head and rubs his chin. His eyes are scanning the map as one hand dips into his slacks pocket, coming up with a granola bar. He unwraps it without looking and begins to chew as he starts to form plans and tactics…

"So… I don't know what to do. I tried every reasonable measure, including bribing the commandant. He just took my money and didn't release them."

Wickliff glances at the geography when he has a chance, pondering a few things, looking at it for accessible harbors, beaches, and other places to land a small watercraft. "He might need an additional measure of persuasion… a man that high up has to have some fithly little secrets."

"We will get them back." Kassandra closes down the datapad and tucks it away, "These are good people, all, and they are professionals. I won't tell you to trust us or some other platitude, Mr. Carinthiel. I'll just tell you that we will not fail, we will do what we say we will. Unless there are other questions or information, I suggest we depart and get on with our planning and mission?"

Tanasen looks to the others. "Well, since we are decided on this, maybe we should retire to a more secure location to plan this out. Don't want word leaking we might be attempting something soon."

"I… I'll be be available on this cellphone." He says, pointing to a number in the file. "I'm really very grateful you're even considering this. I can give you half the money up front, if you need to know I'm good for it."

Julian raises a hand. "Half might be helpful, not becuase I don't trust you, but in case we need to contract any extra assistance."

"An advance would be necessary, at this point. At the very least, there are travel considerations to think of." Wickliff chimes in, nodding in agreement to Julian.

Jorden nods then, pulling out a credstick. He places it on the table… "50,000 nuyen. Please god, do not run off with my money. It's all I've got."

Kassandra remarks, "Your money is safe with us." Silk rises from her seat and nods to Mr. Carinthiel, "We will be in touch."

Julian stands and replaces the chair he'd moved following Kassandra to the safespot.

Reaching forward, Charlie snags the credstick within view of the others, displaying it before pocketing it for safe keeping.

With that, Mr. Carinthiel stands up, straightens his coat, then heads for the front door, murmuring a prayer for the safe return of six souls.

Legwork Phase

Julian tries google.

«Plot» Jorden says, " Setting plotspeed to 'player'. You have the ball."
«Plot» Jorden says, " If and when you want to get information, let me know via the plots command '= stuff here' what you need and want. that will help me pick it out of your copious OOC :)"
«Plot» Julian will do an info search on the prison camp
«Plot» Jorden says, " I'm not doing matrix per the book, so give me a computers check, TN 8. No hacking pool."
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Computers vs TN 8:
2 3 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Computers vs TN 8 for "KP1/13":
3 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Julian (#2692) rolls Computers vs TN 8 for "KP3/13":
2 4 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Julian stands

Google fails you. To be clear; There are only scattered references to the camp, but no actual information.

Julian finds a place to set up a sat dish, and pulls a leatherbound bible from his bag. A bible with FUPs… He sets up the deck quickly, finding a place to relax before jacking in. He's gone for about 5 minutes before he blinks his eyes open and blows a long sigh, pulling the cable from his neck. "I got nothing… might want to call a /real/ decker if you know one."

Silk calls Sexyguy069

«Plot» Jorden says, " Kassandra: Etti, TN 4."
«Auto-Judge[]» Kassandra (#9777) rolls Etiquette vs TN 4 for "Contacting Sexyguy069. Information on this camp, please?":
1 1 2 3 4 5 10 14 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Jorden (#3087) rolls 6 for "Sexyguy069 looooooooooves to deck Kassandra.":
1 2 2 2 4 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Jorden (#3087) rolls 6 for "Sexyguy069 looooooooooves to deck Kassandra. KP 1":
1 1 1 4 4 11

Kassandra is busy in the little hotel room they picked up in order to do their round table. While sipping on a bottle of water she'll put in a little call to a friend, one good with the deck.

Sexyguy069-> Hello Silk.

Silk-> Good evening, Sexyguy069.

Sexyguy069-> What can I do for you?

Silk-> I have some friends who long to travel. They've heard good things about a camp on Berryessa Island and were wondering if they could get the /real/ scoop.

Sexyguy069-> Give me a few minutes. I don't know the place off hand, but I'll see what I can dig up.

Silk-> Of course. I'll busy myself sending funds.

5 minutes later….

Sexyguy069-> Silk?

Silk-> Yes?

Sexyguy069-> I do not advise a vacation to this place. It's a japanese 'cultural' camp.

Silk-> Oh dear, that does sound bad. I don't suppose there are brochures or handy pictures I can use to convince them to try somewhere less dangerous?

Sexyguy069-> No. But I did some digging for you. The commander of this cultural enclave is Colonel Abe no Hirafu, a veteran of the conquest of the Phillipeans. He's called the Hero of Manila when they are being kind, and the Rapist of Luzon when they are not.

Sexyguy069-> Based on the weekly supply runs, if I divide the caloric requirements of the base by 700, thats the bare minimum to keep someone operational for labor… We're looking at nearly a thousand internees.

Silk-> Weekly supply runs you say? When do those run, just out of curiousity?

Sexyguy069-> The supplier is Winters Agri-feed, a small producer of mostly animal feed located in Winters about 20 miles from the camp. The next shipment is expected to leave winters day after tomorrow. They used to use daily trucks, but the trucks were getting snipped at by resistance fighters in the area. They now use a barge to make weekly transfers. Of course, this was a reason for the camp to cut back rations across the board.

Silk-> I see, that is interesting. At this rate they are going to starve them. Is there any other horrible news about this place?

Sexyguy069-> Hirafu is good. He's got a personal squad of special forces that use the base as a rest-and-relaxation port after doing time in the north valley Skirmishing with the CFS loyalists there. I'd need more specific questions to get more specific information.

Silk-> R&R Port …. I see. Any air traffic in and out of this place or local animals that are less than friendly to visitors?

Sexyguy069-> Only airtraffic I see is the commanders helo that he uses to travel back and forth to San Francsico and Sacremento with. Otherwise it's restricted airspace.

Silk-> Understood. I'll be sure to let my client know they should try a friendlier island. Your payment is in the usual location and thank you for the travel tip.

Sexyguy069-> Safe travels.

«Plot» Kassandra says, "Subtract 10,000 from my payment for Sexyguy069"
«Plot» Vulcan says, " Payout cut to 90,000 nuyen"

Continued discussion

Julian spends his time inventorying the gear he brought with. 1 Assault Rifle, 1 Sniper rifle, clips for both, Lockpicker, electronics set, thermite burning bars, a few kilos of c12 with a couple of radio detonators, and a box of chocochip granola bars. Julian adds his ruth cloak to that collection, but stows the leatherbound bible he'd been plugged into. It had been of all the help it was going to be on this trip.

Tanasen takes his time studying the lay of the land, and planning possible air routes to fly in and out of the area. Gonna take some skill to do it properly.

Done with chatting her decker friend, Silk says, "I have bad news, really bad news, and possibly worse news. Which would you like first?"

Julian grins. "Start with the worst, that way it's all uphill from there."

Looking up from cleaning his gun, which is about the only thing constructive he /can/ do, other then previously retrieving some other equipment, Wickliff glances to Silk, "All's relative."

Tanasen nods as he turns to listen up. "Might as well get the whole enchalada. I'm sure it's not cakewalk, but lets hear the full story."

"I think we can nix trying to blackmail the man in charge. Someone you call 'the Rapist of Luzon' is likely just not one of those people that naked pictures is going to influence. Moving on from there, you are looking at around a thousand prisoners, depending on the daily death tolls. We have restricted air space over the island with the exception of the man's private transport. Food transport will be by barge the day after tomorrow, and Mr. Hirafu is a veritable badass with a personal squad who use the base as their own little Fantasy Island."

Kass sums up, "And the man is a veteran of combat so he is going to be ready for the usual tricks, I imagine, given they are harried by guerillas and the like."

Yeah. This would be why no one local took the job.

"Barge. That'll be easy enough to hijack, if we need to…" Wickliff hrms, "Guerrilas? So there are local groups situated near by?"

Julian considers for a few moments. "So we sneak in on the food barge, we hold off on Tan's drone until the last possible moment, and we play it fast and loose. If the guy knows the book, we throw it out."

Julian shrugs. "Or, we crash the command post first, go for a decapitation."

Tanasen nods a little. "That barge could be the ticket to getting those prisoners out, thinking on it. Even at minimal rations, it's still a weeks worth of food for a thousand people."

"Free State loyalists, folks that don's really care for the Japanese rule, those sort of folks." Kassandra shrugs, "Main problem with using them would be making the necessary connections and making them believe us."

The elven girl hmms, "I'm not seeing the profit in attacking the command post. That is starting the fight *before* we get the nice people out that we are being paid for. We get torn up before we do any rescuing, we've not done the job."

Tanasen hmms softly. "What if we don't contact the resistance until the last moment, let them know when they hear the booms, that shit is going down and it's a ripe time to attack? Even haveing them ready to cart away the refugees would be a big help.

"Yeah, and if we're going to be dragging even a /hundred/ emaciated, weak, abused internees, we're going to need to contact some of these 'loyalists'. If we aren't going to be able to put the time and effort into cultivating contact with the locals, we need to focus on our objective, and only our objective." He huffs, "That being said, we stand to gain more then we'd lose. Those guys probably wanna see the place hit just as bad as our client. They're going to have more intel, like when the commander's guard is away committing war crimes or whatever it is they do."

Wickliff says, adding, "If we're moving them, we need to plan with them. Just giving them some loose framework is gonna leave a lot of dead people."

Julian nods. "Ok, so we do it the other way around. Hit the island, extract the people, draw the commandant out so Tan can hit his chopper with Big Brother." He scratches his neck. "Thing is, I'm sure you realize, this wont work if we spring /just/ the target prisoners."

Tanasen nods. "Not to mention the time it woudl take to find them among all the others there."

Thats complication number 2: How to find the littlist unicorn in a population of 700.

Julian shakes his head. "No no, we still need to /find/ them and make sure they make it out ok, else we blow the job, but it'll be a lot easier to get them out smoothly if we're getting /everyone/ out."

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Kass remarks, "Dragging hundreds of people out is going to require a significant outlay of cash and resources or else you are going to drag them out of the camp and then what? Where are you going to take them? How are we going to protect them while running and gunning with the troops here and any resources they call in?"

Julian fishes out another granola bar, unwrapping and chewing as he thinks. "That's what we could use the local guerillas for… or Metahuman Rights advocates if you know any… or we just put them on the food barge, float them down the river, and let them get off wherever they want. I'm /sure/ they'd be glad to be anywere but there."

Tanasen nods a little. "Well, at this point, we HAVE to take out the troops before we do anything. They are not gonna let us move people while even a single one remains. We take them out, we'll have a small amount of time to orginize and get the refugeees out. We can use the food transport for that, and if we can get the help of local rebels, they can take care of most of them to get them out of the way. We find our pair in the meantime and take off with them."

"She's right." Wickliff says, crossing his arms over his chest as he paces from one end of the room to the other, "If we're going to move near a thousand people, we going to be taking the entire fragging place out. It isn't going to be quiet, and we're going to have to play war. Contact with the locals should help us with the aftermath. But we shouldn't drop them off anywhere. I doubt these people are going to be in any condition to scatter and make new lives for themselves." He looks to Julian, "Without safe harbor, we're just leaving them to be picked up again."

Julian shurgs. "Fine, we'll just spring the two targets, and let everyone else watch as those two get to leave becuase their loved ones could afford shadowrunners. Everyone else just has to stay because hey, nothing is free." He takes another bite of granola and chews in an agitated fashion. "Good luck keeping the populace quiet during that. Maybe we'll get lucky and they /won't/ start shouting for us to save them and alert the guards."

Wickliff calls Gottard

Wickliff tabs his head, "Think big, shipmate. We'll get 'em all out. Its just gonna take more battle, less operation, if you get my meaning." He glances down. "Let me make a call, see what I can scrounge up." Flipping his cellphone display up from his wrist, he dials…

«Auto-Judge[]» Wickliff (#3585) rolls Etiquette + 1 vs TN 4:
1 1 2 10 = 1 Success

Silk sighs and starts to say something and then cuts off, shaking her head.

Gottard answers the phone…. "Clausen Import-Export…."

"Evening, Gott. Its Charlie. Wondering if you could help me out. I'm taking a little trip to the west coast, little camp northeast of San Francisco. I wanted to get with some people there who might be… less then adament about the current government. Know any quartermasters?"

"Ohhh… California. Land of dreams. Where everyone is desperately looking for a gun. I know lots of people there."

"I'm looking for a group of loyalists operating near Lake Berryessa. I have some intereasts that may intersect with theirs. Theres some nuyen and, probably an order for some equipment over there if we can get this to work." Wickliff says, into his phone.

"Pope Valley Templars, St. Helena Irregulars… Cal-Guard Calistoga… Midddletown Rangers…. There are many. Some small, some large."

"Who's most prepared to start a little war?"

"Start? There's been a war going there for 7 years now, my friend. You need to get up on your west coast politics!"

"I was living underwater, remember? Havana was complex enough." Wickliff hrms, pacing once more, "Alright, put me in contact with the largest organization intereasted in meta-rights. Paramilitaries would be preferable.
=
"Oh, you're gonnna be sratchen the barrel on that one. Most got no love for the Japanese, but the indians and metahumans run a close second to that… Wars with the NAN, the Azltlan and the Tir have left the military they do have, very very unhappy with pretty much anyone not them. That said… there's a division of the Orktown Raiders that are suspected of operation in the are of Moskowote reservor. Thats about 10 miles south of the lake."

Walking towards his duffel bag, stored somewhere in the corner of the room, Wickliff rummages around and finds his Nav-Dat GPS unit, putting in some information, "They'll do just fine. Got a line to them?"

"I'll need a few hours. Also going to need some reason you want to talk to them. Gonna need some bona-fides and some expenses."

"Like I said, my intereasts intersect theirs. Let them know that I have a client who wants to move in on some property in the area. Aggressive real estate. Looking for someone who knows the market, possibly wants to be a partner. I'll remit the usual fee on the usual channels. Five kay enough for some of the finest rum, straight from Barbados?" (Read: A cheap bottle of booze to launder the invoice.)

"That will be fine. Give me a bit. I can hook you up."

*Call ends*

Tanasen works with Julian while the call is made, making sure both are reading the map properly, and probably avenues of approach and possible resistance they'll meet to get there in the first place.

Silk departs.

Silk waits quietly, watching the far wall and likely lost in thought. She hasn't paid much attention to the call or the rest of the room for several minutes.

«OOC» Gottard says, "How much longer do peopel have?"
Name set.
«OOC» Wickliff says, "A little bit, for me."
«OOC» Wickliff says, "I might have some queues to toss in."
«OOC» Vulcan says, "Can you quantify 'a little bit' :)"
«OOC» Wickliff says, "Another 1-2 hours."
«OOC» Vulcan nods. Tan, Jul, Kass?
«OOC» Tanasen is good long as needed
«OOC» Kassandra can be here longer, just thinking if you are going GIJOE assault on the island you may want to swap me for someone combat rugged

«OOC» Vulcan says, "I don't think a GIJOE assault is goign to work."
«OOC» Vulcan says, "But I'm going to let the players do whatever they want."
«OOC» Tanasen says, "We don't have nearly enough people for a GIjoe assault. But honestly finese planning isn't a strong point for me."
«OOC» Wickliff says, "I'm open for suggestions. I don't like the idea of full on war with a squad of special forces either. But, the point has been made."
«OOC» Wickliff says, "The idea, at least I think, with making contact with a paramilitary group, is to get them to do the heavy lifting, while we perform a more surgical deal."
«OOC» Vulcan says, "The local contact is a good move nomatter what."
«OOC» Vulcan says, "I agree on that."
«OOC» Vulcan says, "But, just to be clear incase I wasn't earlier: I will kill people :)"
«OOC» Wickliff says, "I just maaaade the character. :) But, what are our other options, brainstorming!"
«OOC» Vulcan gestures you guys totalk!
«OOC» Kassandra nods and knows you will. just saying that Silk walks if the plan is 'we attack the command post with big guns'. Sorry, not a combat heavy and aint dying. :)
«OOC» Julian returns to keyboard
«OOC» Tanasen only has one big gun. Not nearly enough.
«OOC» Vulcan grins.

Julian says "So, if we have a local contact, we can all sneak in aboard the barge, and make a mess of things on the island. With luck, we can draw out the commandant and Tan can ace him…" He shrugs. "I think our best bet is to catch them with their pants down."

Hanging up his wristphone, Wickliff turns around, "Okay. With a little luck, I can get in touch with some paramilitaries operating in the area. If you guys got any equipment needs, just do me a favor and let me make the orders through my Dealer. Him being such a nice guy and all." He closes his eyes and sighs a little, "So, what're our options here?"

Tanasen nods and sighs. "I really don't like this, and we are definatly being underpaid for this, considering the ramifications of this job. We dont have nearly the manpower to handle an assault on any sizable scale. The best I can do is provide heavy cover for what ever little operation we are pulling off, but no way do I have enough drones to take on an elite strike force."

Julian shrugs. "Well, it's a /big/ island… If the strike force is going to get anywhere with any speed, they'll have to chopper in themselves."

Silk turns her attention from her survey of the far wall and considers, nodding to Tanasen's commentary. "I agree. I'd say you need another heavy or two to pull of this sort of thing, even with the locals making noise." She frowns and shakes her head, "And I cannot say I am happy with this level of possible combat."

"So we don't take on the elite strike force. If we're willing to advance some of their objectives, we might be able to fashion a diversion." Wickliff notes, referring to his GPS a moment, "Get the samurai scattered out to deal with local problems, cut the communications with a jammer, punch a hole in the fence, drag who we can out. Alternatively, we could try posing as workers from the grain company, shut what we can down from the inside."

Julian jerks his thumb towards the van. "I have a jammer, but it'll jam /us/ too, unless one of you has a few spare comms I can use to hotmike." He nods. "I can sneak in and start offing guards, rustle up some chaos."

Tanasen nods a little. "I have a jammer as well, and some very good tactical coms. Dunno if they'd be able to cut through it, but the base unit I have is far more powerful.

Wickliff cocks his head, snorting a bit, "This reminds me, one time I heard… well, some scuttlebutt from some… folks who went… somewhere." He glances towards Julian, "These gentlemen took some zodiacs, rubber inflatables with an outboard, came in about 500 feet from shore, shut off, swam the rest of the way in, got their target, and got out. They knew where they were going, but the principle is essentially the same."

Frowning slightly, Silk shakes her head and says, "I think, gentleman, I am going to deal myself out of this. I'll cover the cost of the information attained for the mission and you can use the funds to hire people more suited for the sort of engagement you are heading into." She pushes away from the end of the couch, "Room is paid up till wednesday, so that is another detail taken care of."

Wickliff glances to Silk, "We could use a talker, when we get down there. I can only speak Navy so far. You don't have to accompany us on the boats, but we're going to need some starpower." He shrugs a little though. No keeping her if she didn't want to stick around. "Its possible to get in without combat, get out without combat. Nice, and quiet, if we know where we're going. We could even plant something when we're in there, for the locals.

Tanasen rubs at his temples. "This is quickly turning into a real troublesome trick to pull off. Low wages, high risk, and the moral high ground doesn't really pay the bills that well. I'm no good at this kind of planning, never have been and it's getting us nowhere."

Julian shakes his head. "You want more, Tan? You can take my cut. We'll need your drones for air support." He turns to Silk. "If this can be done without shooting, I'd love to hear a way, but if we can't get recon before hand, we have to play it by ear." He speaks in a slightly pleading voice to Silk.

Tanasen shakes his head. "Ain't about more, it's about numbers. Even if we get help, finding just those two and getting them back out without a hundred other refugees trying to cling on is a task that just might be beyond us. I honestly don't think any of those local groups will be willing to tangle with the base itself, or they would have by now. Espeicaly if they hear that only three or four people are going in."

Shaking her head, Silk remarks, "I think a lot of the talking has already been done, and there is no use hogging the cash and slot or slots you'd need for more attuned operatives for this sort of endevour. If things go south, all the golden words in the world won't make up for not having the people you'd want for this sort of thing there with you. And, as Tinman said, there are elements to this that are problematic."

She shakes her head and pulls the ball cap back on. "Nope. I have a bad feeling that I will regret being there, so I am going to head back to another sector and let this one go. I wish you all the best, however."

"Lemmie talk to the local guy. Maybe they know someone we can pay off for the information, maybe they have info themselves, maybe we can pull a prisoner inventory from the 'trix. We've still got options here." Wickliff adds, looking to Tanasen, "We're going in. We could put down some explosives, a a jammer they could use later… this is possible…" He looks to Silk and nods, "Nice meeting you, then, Ma'am."

Julian nods to Silk. "See you around." He gives a breif wave, then blows a long sigh, wandering back over towards the map. "So who else do we know that can be here in a few hours?" He asks allowed, mostly to Tanasen, but leaving plently of room for Wickliff to chime in.

Silk nods cordially and heads out the door to give them time to plan and scheme. She already knows more than she wants to know.

Julian continues to regard the map. "What if we're going about this the wrong way…"

Another granola bar is fished out and unwrapped, evidence that the wheels are spinning in the trogs head…

Julian turns around to regard the others. "Do either of you know any experts on these kinds of camps? Or political camps in general?"

Tanasen says "What other ways are there? It's either sneaking in, or assault. I'm not seeing much other for options."

Tanasen shakes his head. "Not something I really studied up on."

Julian takes a bite, chewing and looking to Wickliff, waiting for his answer.

Wickliff shakes his head, "I've done some similar things… this one time in Liberia…" He sighs, "Nothing that applies directly though… with our current numbers, we don't have so many options. We just don't know enough about the camp, at the moment. We don't know how many guards they have, their training, when shift change is, where they focus their attentions, any holes in the security. We need more information to make /any/ plan."

Julian swallows and nods. "We've been looking at this from the point of view of assault, of us going in. Of /us/ doing all the work…" He takes another bite and begins to chew, speaking through the mouthful of granola. "But what would it take to make /them/ bring the two prisoners to /us/? What does it take to get someone transfered or released, or any official action that will let them just walk right through the gate?" He swallows the granola.

"THATS thinking. Though if this was as easy as a forged release, it would've been done already. A piece of paper and some sweettalk could get us something temporary, especially if juniors were seperated from communication with seniors. But our talker just walked out the door." Wickliff replies, before snapping his fingers, "LABOR!"

Tanasen shrugs. "Don't have a clue on that one. Hire a good decker and see if he can do something?"

"The camp is large, but, the Japanese being who they are, with a bunch of large, strong individuals, would probably use them for /forced labor/, right? If they do, they might move them out of the camp, or at least out of the fenceline…" Charlie ponders, "This is a long shot, but if they do, and we could get them on a work crew…"

Julian nods and jabs buttons wildly on his pocsec, shooting off a trixmail, then sets the device down. "Not so sure about the labor thing, since I don't know if they'd put women on the crews, but it's a start."

Wickliff's phone rings.

Glancing down, "That'd probably be my chum." He flicks open the display, looking into it, "Wickliff, here."

The voice on the other end is not your chum. "I got words in my ears you need some people on the ground, Call me G-Money, and don't waste my time, so get to the words you wanna say, scan me?"

"Straight to the point, then." Wickliff says, "I, and a few friends of mine are going on a little excursion to a nearby lake. We've been hired by a client to procure something breathing from that nearby lake, and I'm looking for some local eyes who might know a little about that nearby lake and its inhabitants, and who might be willing to help a little, if our interests intersect enough."

"You cut the Raiders in for a slice of your pie, the Raiders can do a lot for a man who wants to go swimming."

"We're still getting a plan together, but we'll be in country to reconnoiter the site fairly soon. If you've got a secure e-mail, I can forward you some of our concerns, and we can meet to discuss things further? No offense intended, Sir, but my line isn't the most secure. Don't want to chance anyone picking up on our little excursion."

"You wanna talk? You come out this way. Anyone can talk a good game from -Denver-." Says GMoney. "You come to Santa Rosa, then call me back. We'll talk then."

"I heartily agree. I'll be in touch, sometime in the next week or two. I look forward to meeting you, G-Money." Wickliff says, letting the man have a chance at the final word, before closing his display and ending the call, if he doesn't have anything more to say.

"Ayeah, you bring your boys this way. Gmoney Out." *Click*

Shaking his head, "I ask for paramilitaries, I get someone who sounds like a go-ganger." Wickliff laments, "We'll have a chat when we get down there. For now, lets call it a night, see if theres anything else we could learn independently. Unless anyone's got any better ideas, I can talk to a friend of mine, and try to secure travel arraignments. Anything else?"

Charlie says, speaking to the two runners in the room, after the phone is disconnected.

Tanasen shrugs as that. "I'll talk to a friend that happens to be a decker. Maybe that can dig us up some more pertinent info, like personal listings or even something about workparties."

Julian shakes his head. "Don't confuse manner for professionalism… at least not until you meet Blindside." He grins and continues to examine the map, nodding. "Yeah, best call it good for one night… we'll start fresh in the morning."

Tanasen nods. "That'll be the next hurdle, getting into the country with our gear."

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