Cordero's Folly

GM: Mirage
Players: Crowe, Dean, Fergie, Mr. Terrific, West.
Synopsis: A meet for a job…from the Corderos.
Date: March 27, 2071.

«Plot» Mirage says, "So the call goes out from the not so usual channels that Rui Cordero, head of the Cordero family in Denver, wants to hire some extra hands for a bit of wetwork. You five got the call, just now, to come and meet up at a shipping warehouse in the CAS in 10 hours. Start the poses for your phone calls and whatevers."

Mr.Terrific doesn't have a whole lot of contacts that go straight to la Famiglia. But he will ask the guy who passes him the message - "Wetwork. Is this guy cool about walking, if you don't like the hit? Does he give you Laes, does he just say 'shut the hell up you don't know nothing' or does he take it as an insult if you hear the pitch and say you're not for it?"

"Dean, it's Slick. Got something for you, heavy, well paid. Looks rough, but you'll make a killing. Just the thing you've been needing my man." Dean mulls it over, or pretends to, while quelling a tremour in the hand holding the phone. "I'm interested, usual place for details?"

West has few qualms about doing a kick when Nikolai contacts him via their usual methods - a cellphone call, and some obscure code involving various types of fruit. West's assent is received in fairly short order, allowing the well-connected Russian to report to his own contacts that he's got at least one for the list. In the meantime, West goes through the motions of assembling his shit into his sea bag, and, after a casual stroll down the stairs of the Crank with it slung over his shoulder, and a jaunty little wave to Dwyre, he's out front, headed 'round back to where the 3220's parked. The stuff that'd get him tossed into a cell is secured away in the chemsealed smuggling compartment, the rest tossed into the driver's seat, and he fires up the Honda's engine and starts to navigate his way towards the CAS district.

Crowe gets the call in his nosebleed apartment at Project Green Island, which, when you look out the window, isn't so green. Just another fancy name for a crappy condoplex. The details he gets are of course are very scarce, but the promise of big money is good enough for him to prep up and leave. Risk? What's life without risk.

Usual fare, he puts on his FFBA to cover his body, then puts his Actioneer Suit and Longcoat over that. In his pocket he stores the usual things, some fishing line, some double sided tape, zip ties, but no weapons. He leaves with just enough time allocated to walk to the meet.

Fergie gets the call and will ask about the same questions that Mister Terrific is asking pretty much. She takes it in transduced style, a cable running from the datajack in her temple that is hidden in her hair. She starts getting dressed for a mafioso occassion, getting into her Ferguson outfit while the call is continued via electronic means. "Yeah… Miranda, are we able to ditch the job if we don't like it, eh? And is it against the Vory? Any info on the target?"

Fergie will of course suit up in some armor, FFBA and the usual for this disguise.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Disguise for "+5 (Poly Mask and Fiber Optics)":

1 1 5 7 9

Mr.Terrific , in most any case, will be doing an astral sweep of the outside to see if the whole warehouse is a set-up with a trap waiting to spring. When he arranges his arrival, he'll do a sweep in person; as armed and armored and equipaged as he can reasonable be for the location. Being who he is, he doesn't require a whole heck of a lot of equipment as such things go, but there's enough for a daypack/shoulder satchel.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The response is quick and simple for Mr.T's questions, and his surveillence of the area. The man on the phone gives him the easy response of "I said it's wetwork, but by no means is this blackhat. You're gonna be doing the world a favor on this. It's dangerous, but hey? Life without risks, mang, you know the deal."… To the astral sweep, it appears the whole place is warded. Astral security here isn't a joke, and you decide it's probably best left untampered with. Probably."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Moving forward, does anyone have anything they'd like to do before the meet starts and I ask for arriving stuffs."

«Plot» West says, "No."

Mr.Terrific performed only an astral overview for sniper positions and the like, nothing intrusive. It's his rule: I do not screw the mission by astrally scouting and letting all the bad guys know what's about to go down. Since it does not have the appearance of obvious evil trap, he is only too happy to arrive.

Dean cases the joint, doing a quick drive-by on an overpass in the distance, magnified vision showing the exterior of the meet, some warehouse, in crisp, pixilated detail. Just a guy on a bike, just a guy on a bike, nothing to see here. Sleek black leather jacket, over what he likes to think of as 'the safest pyjamas on earth'. Pocket rocket, check, ricerocket, check, the rest is details, stuffed here and there. Dean checks out the layout, absorbing details, speculating how he would setup security, keeping exits in mind. Here goes nothin', swimmen with the big fish tonight.

Fergie seems satisfied with the answers about doing the world a favor. Happy to do those kinds of things, she gets a few odds and ends in weapons under her stylish mortimer greatcoat and then goes out to the BMW and heads for the meet.

«Plot» Mr.Terrific says, "I get all my reasonable and concealable equipment. I leave behind my big stuff like unconcealable submachineguns and my stuff that has no place here, like my winter camo underoos."

Crowe stops at a shop on the way and picks up a rather nice Fedora, before continuing on his way to the meet with the fancy black hat that only adds to the sharpness of his sleek suit.

«Plot» Mirage says, "As you start to arive, you are shown in through the back, and are told to wait at a loading dock. Nothing fancy going on, it's starting to get to be dusk out, and the loading dock is otherwise unoccupied. The occasional guard seems to be walking around, and everyone here is packing serious heat, SMG's or bigger! Pose being let in, and once everyone is waiting inside the loading dock, we'll get underway with the meet."

Mr.Terrific is dressed in his usual western-casual, well-armored though it is. His duster shows the scars of a few bullets on the trauma plates, though the denim-look of everything under that is relatively new. He smiles and salutes jauntily to the friendly-looking men in the dark suits or dockworker's clothes with the large firearms, and follows their orders with appropriate friendliness.

Dean parks the bike up the block, drawing stares from the SMG toting hardcases, when he strolls around the corner of the industrial streets. Wide open, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Clean shaven for the first time in far too long, it shows, his face irritated and blemished. He does have a nice jacket though, probably cost as much as a good suit. Makes one think he might be a vice detective, or a pimp turned toughguy. They don't hassle him too much, he's using the old jedi-mind-trick, I don't look at you because I don't give a frag. Your boss' boss wants me here, you're a grunt. I'm a specialist. Still, he keeps it on the downlow, keeps it cool and civil.

Fergie is on her best behavior today, having let her tics out on the way here, and she parks her bike somewhere where she hopes it will not get stolen… looping one of those old bike chains with a combination through the tire and taking her keys with her. Hey, wire clippers could own the first safety measure, but not everyone remembers to get those! She leaves it in shadows, nothing of value inside, taking along her duffel bag. Finally being let into the loading dock, she looks over to Mister Terrific with a smile and copies his friendly attitude toward the heat-packing mafia guys. She acts casual but actually utilizes her acute hearing and sight modifications to perceive… and listen to what might be going on in other areas that are near to this. Noticing Dean, she gives him a bit of a wave and smile before tucking her hands (slowly) down into her pockets and resting them there for now, waiting.

Crowe nods his head towards the guards as he's shown in through the back. Otherwise he completely disregards all of the workers packing heat. For one reason or another, he seems to just glide about on the ground with unnatural grace that ultimately belies the extensive modifications made to his body over the course of time. Otherwise, to those just glancing at him, he's just a slightly tall gentleman in a nice coat and fancy hat. When finally shown to the loading dock, he stands there with solemnity, hands clasped together at his front even as he has minor tremors.

West doesn't do any of that checking for security stuff when he arrives. If the Mafia wants to ice him out here, they'll probably pull it off. Fatalism's fun for the whole family. Sliding his Cavalier into its inside-the-waistband concealed holster, he leaves the crazy stuff - swords, big-ass assault rifles, etc - safely in the Honda before he starts to make his way towards the warehouse. A quiet nod is given to the gent that ushers him in, and in he goes, joining the rest of the coyote crew at the loading dock. If he recognizes anybody - and he should - he doesn't let on to the fact, simply keeping himself to himself, hands in his pockets, scowling expression studiously blank.

«Plot» Mirage says, "As you wait, it feels like an eternity passes, until finally a man comes walking by, entorage of hired guns and scary people in tow. It takes a moment to register, but that was Don Rui Cordero himself! He walks out the door with his goons, and doesn't say a word in passing. Half the security in the warehouse seems to go with him, and the place seems much less the imposing fortress it was a few minutes ago. Still more waiting…"

Mr.Terrific actually has no idea what the man looks like. He's only guessing that the guy is special because he has a lot of security. Of course he gives the astral glance (and no shamanic mask for him.) But otherwise, he is happy to make introductions. "Hey there. People call me 'Mister Terrific.' I don't claim to be supreme, superior, or even awesome. But I am terrific. And, unless I miss my guess from glancing around, I'll be your wizard this evening."

Dean shimmers and quakes, orderly 'at ease' posture made something of a mockery of, he's a bit blurry standing still. Probably shouldn't 've had that coffee. "So, come here much?" He says to Fergie, with a cocky grin. Turning to answer Mr T's beckoning, proffers a hand. "Dean, most everybody calls me Dean. What's shakin'?"

West is in much the same boat as Mr. T, not really having familiarized himself with who's who amongst Denver's cosa nostra. Still, important people are pretty easy to spot, especially when twenty guns go with them whenever they leave home. After Rui has left the building and the round of introductions has started, he turns his attention back to the crew, his introduction brief: "West. Weapons."

Fergie glances at everyone else and then does that 'come hither' look… and, for those that do as beckoned, she whispers softly, "I'm Ferguson, or Fergie, and I heard something." She double checks something, but then looks back to them and explains softly, "I heard some guards talking… someone named Maccio tried to put a hit out on his own father. And they say that the big boss man found out and that he didn't do much but slap him on the wrists. Anyway, maybe it has something to do with all this." She shrugs. Then explains, "I get stuff and convince people my or our ideas are awesome."

Fergie adds the end to tell the tale of what she does.

Crowe continues standing like a statue, aside from random tremors and shakes. When he finally speaks up during introductions he speaks in an equally cool and monotone voice. "Evening Gentleman and Miss, I am Crowe." He glances briefly at Mr. Terrific, "I'll be your Razor or Ghost tonight."

Mr.Terrific clasps indeed. After hearing from West and hearing him, like, actually say what he's good at, he'll chime in with, "You should expect me to do things like invisibility, knocking out groups of people, up-armoring people, healing the wounded, and about once a day I can take over a tight group of people like all those guys surrounding the man in charge; but that'll pretty much exhaust my resources. And get me shot by everyone I don't take over." He listens to Fergie as well.

West's fingers come up to scratch at his rusty beard, fingers rustling through the whiskers. He heard Fergie's pronouncement without comment, though his expression tightens a little, mostly 'round the eyes. "You sure they said it was a guy named Moccio?" he asks, quietly, his longest sentence of the night thus far. For whatever reason, that name seems to bother him.

Dean fumbles after something deep in his pockets, fishes out a crumpled paper pack of smokes. Loops a finger into that little pocket that come inside the right pocket of sturdy pants, pulls out a zippo. 'Dem Bones' emblazoned on the side, above thrown dice showing snake eyes. Blowing smoke in twin streams out his nostrils, "Guess it's my turn. Pistol fighter, tactician, can jigger basic electronics, got a decent network o' folks call me friend. One o' the faster guys around. Don't take it as a dare, or a challenge. I'd rather think my way out of a paper bag, than shoot my way out."

"Dunno any o' these names, never been pals with a made man… Keep talkin' though, little know-how never hurt nobody.?

Fergie nods to West, recognizing him but not attacking him rabidly like she had tried that one time at Cybered Arms. She appears more professional, today. "Ah, yes, quite sure. Anyone know anything about that person?" she inquires and then looks around the group.

Mr.Terrific must shake his head no.

Crowe clears his throat, covering his mouth with a polite fist before turning towars Fergie, "Moccio is the son of Don Cordero, for sure." He doesn't smile, instead resuming his statuesque pose.

Dean reconfirms his lack of any idea with an expansive shrug, cigarette bobbing about, smoke blown away from anyone's face out the corner of his mouth.

"I do," is West's quiet answer, though he's not immediately more forthcoming than that. Instead, he lets Crowe do the talking, content to shove his hands back into his pockets and take a step back from the little group, his head turning towards the end of the loading ramp leading back into the warehouse, as though watching for something.

"Enlighten us poor ignorant folk." Dean says, earnest look belying what might otherwise be mistaken for sarcasm.

Fergie prompts West, "You do? Would you give us some insight, ser?"

West's head simply shakes, and then he does a little chin-lift towards Crowe, perhaps indicating that Kid Stealth's said it all. Either way, he seems reluctant to speak all that much out here for some reason or another. Or perhaps he's just an anti-social jackass.

Fergie frowns a little. She shrugs, then shakes her head and looks around and tries to listen for more.

Dean's eyes flit back and forth between the two men, not knowing what to make of the exchange. "Anything you two fellas might know could be useful here…"

Crowe shrugs prompty, "There's more to the story. Just know that a power struggle may be involved." Finally he clasps his hands back at his front and returns to his solemn demeanor. There's probably more to the story but that's a fair summary.

"Ain't ther always?" Dean complains. "D'ya think that means they'll be expecting our little roadshow? Prob'ly, no?"

"We don't know what the job is yet," West opines, his shoulders shifting. "Aside from the fact that it needs kick artists. Could have nothing to do with all this."

Dean butts out the cigarette before it's finished, grinding it out beneath his toe. Wouldn't do to have Mr J walk in on them, see him pollutin' his purty warehouse. "World's a bit small for coincidence, despite its everlovin' expansiveness, don't ya say? Could be right though, might have not a thing tado with us. Not a thing at all."

«Plot» Mirage says, "After a bit more time passes, a… caucasian human male for lack of any better ethnic definition, brown hair with brown eyes, no decernable features as the standard goes, comes out from somewhere beyond the pallets and loading bay. He says something to one of the guards in passing, and continues forward, ariving at the lot of you. "Lets have a chat back in the office, shall we?" the man tells more than asks, turning back around and walking back towards the front of the warehouse."

"Whatever, best not go figurin' what's what before we find out we're here to wax some douche 'stole the Don's nephew's convertable or somthin'" Dan adds.

Crowe promptly 'glides' behind the man with no outstanding features. His hands constantly remain at his front, and he politely nods to the guard in passing.

Dean clams up, following the man. Taking in the surround, without so much as turning his head.

Mr.Terrific yea verily, follows the expertly nondescript man. He knows people who make a lifestyle of it, and who design disguises around it.

West follows after, too, but only after letting Fergie go first - age before beauty? Or maybe just intent on bringing up the rear.

Fergie was going to bring up the rear but at seeing West let her, she nods and then goes along in front of him, behind the other three.

Fergie also notes that she will stay perceptive of her environment during this!

Dean looks around the room, sharp eyes soaking in the detail, inscrutable mind doing who-knows-what to all that detail. Maybe calculating trajectories, perhaps noting security setup, could be just singing 'meowmeowmeowmeow', it's hard to say.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The nondescript man lets everyone enter the 'office' ahead of him. Waiting is a large room, with an almost as large confrence table that could seat perhaps 20. At the far end sits a large man dressed in the top designer tres chic, a mini-terminal in front of him with an old fashion display and keyboard. The room itself is spartan with it's white walls and lack of furnishings, though the chairs look comfortable enough, which is a good thing as the important man at the other end of the room simply says "Sit." in his most scary, perhaps practiced voice. The non-descript man closes the door behind you and leans against it from inside the room, preventing any further entry or exit."

Mr.Terrific sits indeed. Shaddup shuttin' up, that's him. He takes a chair from which he can be completely attentive without being personal.

Dean sits, taking a seat on the far side, where he can see the door. Whispering to his neighbour, "As I'm so fond of saying," puts on a crisp, gung-ho tone "some things cannot be resolved with a sunny disposition." Dean quips, like he's reciting some long heralded military tradition.

Crowe takes a glance at Fergie for a moment before moving into his own seat at the middle of the table. There is a complete lack of any perceptible emotion on his face.

West settles in as well, about midway down the table. He stays quiet, and, if he's attentive, that's not all that evident, either. Seems he's just sort of keeping his eyes in the general vicinity of the micro-terminal and letting everybody else do their own thing.

Fergie is scared and will definitely sit when told to do so. She goes to take a seat over there by Mister Terrific, staying close to the mage because he will be the first one to get geeked, or so the rules of shadowrun state, and thus she will be warned of any altercations. And, she maybe likes him. That, too.

Dean looks around the table, eyeballing each discretely in turn. Wondering what's going on in there heads. Guessing Chica's looking for angles, but he's distracted by her curves. Eyes rove regretfully to the next. Mr T, distant, professional, maybe waiting for more information. West, hardly seems to give a frag. What's his deal? Can't figure it. Crowe, deadpan, razorguy chic. Now, this guy at the terminal…

Dean's gaze wanders back to the lady, scrutinizing. He takes on a contemplative look now, not quirking his mouth anymore. Somethin's not quite right there, bone structure doesn't quite match the crinkle around her eyes. What's with that? Forget it, looks the gangster, presumably a mafioso, presumably the J, square in the face, trying to catch his eyes. Trying to get in the man's head.

Fergie feels Dean looking at her, and she turns her eyes upon him and then gives a small but brief smile before looking ahead to the large man yonder.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The non-descript man at the door begins the conversation with introductions, "I think we know who you lot are, so let me make things eaiser for you. I myself am known to most as Valtez. The man before you is Underboss Emanuel Cordero. He is my boss, and for this operation he will be yours as well." he says, jesturing for your attention towards the large man. Emanuel appears to be a large, older man, perhaps in his 50's, his grey hair is a bit patchy in places. He wears a tres chic suite, and carries an serious expression on his face. He appears to be paying more attention to the micro-terminal for the moment than the team assembled before him."

Mr.Terrific performs a necessary genuflection from his seated position so as to acknowledge the power of the man over them without interrupting flow.

West mimics Mr.Terrific. Great minds, they think alike. So do the not-so-great ones.

Fergie uses her awesome cybereyes. Zooming in, she takes a closer look at all of the details of this 'Emanuel Cordero' fellow and his micro terminal, too. "Good evening, and thank you for this business opportunity." She says it with not only sincerety but also with her new charismatic enhancements at play.

Disappointed at the seeming lack of response from the man, Dean nods his head and stares into middle space, attentively respectful.

Crowe glances from the Bossman to Valtez. He doesn't say a word, instead acknowledging the previous statement with a polite nod. Not much can affect his grave expression, it seems.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Closing the terminal, Emanuel looks up at the team for the first time since their arrival. As he begins to speak, it's almost blatant that he values his own time more than anyone here's lives, by the simple way he rushes to the heart of the matter. "Let me tell you a story. It's about a boy who had everything he could ever want, and a father who made sure his boy got what he wanted whenever he asked. The boy wanted his father's approval, and so the boy began to work his father's trade. The boy thought perhaps he was better than his father at this trade, and decided he'd take over the fragging business. Now the boy hires a hit to take daddy out, and daddy is simply disappointed when he finds out about this. So the boy gets sent to his room, and now some people have been called to deal with the little boys mess." he says, gesturing about the room at that last sentence. "Are you all with me so far?" he adds."

Mr.Terrific remains yet attentive, and gives the nod, so similar to his genuflection of before, that indicates that he's following on. After all, it was hinted at earlier by Fergie's overhearing.

Dean lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, exhaling slowly, quietly. Nods acceptance. Simple enough.

West nods his understanding as well, still not speaking. Seems better that way.

Fergie nods, as well. This time, she stays quiet.

Crowe lets off a small tremor, though that's just one more symptom of being a walking electric dishwasher. He gives another polite nod, still watching the man with veiled interested.

Fergie might have to tic too, but for other reasons, currently being repressed.

Wondering what 'mess' might mean, more exactly, in this little fable. Dean's hands flat on the table, holding them still with care. One blurs up to adjust his collar. Seems hot in here, doesn't it? Looks around at the others briefly. Slowly, deliberately, placing the stray hand back on the table.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Emanuel continues with his exposition. "Good to see we're all listening. So let me tell you another story. Back in 2057 or so, there was a group of extremely talented, best of the best, corporate go to guys. They worked for a now defunct mega corporation, known as Fuchi, perhaps you've heard of them. These go to guys were some of the scariest men and women in North America. When this mega corp went down in flames, most of it was consumed by the other megas. A few pieces, however, went missing in the fire. One of these was this group of scary people, known as Wrath's Hand these days. Who's lost? Anyone?""

Fergie shakes her head at the final questions asked after the tale, "All good."

Mr.Terrific shaketh his head no. Wrath's Hand. Scary bad people. Inside his head, he can only guess. Did the boy hire said Wrath's Hand? Since the boy has been punished, is it Wrath's Hand that must now be punished? He must wait.

West's head shakes in the negative this time. Like Fergie, he, too, is all good.

Crowe simply watches the man intently, waiting for the story to continue.

Googly eyed, Dean facetiously feigns ignorance at the mention of Fuchi. "Ahem, follow you, but never heard of this… Wrath's hand. Bad people, I take it. Jus' like ta ask, what's their connection to this? Though I'm sure you're coming to that…" His voice is steady, not missing a beat, not speaking very loudly either.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez winces at the question, as Emanuel seems to seethe in anger a tad. The underboss stands up, shoves the micro-terminal to the center of the table, "The pay is whatever is left of the gold bullion that was used to contract their services. The payment was made rather recently, and the gold hasn't been fenced in the local area. Five targets, kill them all, you have two days." the underboss states, as Valtez opens the door for him with a forced smile. A few moments after he's gone, Valtez comments "Shouldn't have made him mad…""

Crowe looks to Valtez, "Pleasant gentleman, please send him my regards." Crowe forces a smile for the first time during this whole meet. Since the terminal is in the middle of the table, and that's where Crowe is, he takes the terminal and begins reviewing the information.

Dean blanches, hadn't known he could still do that. Swallows, and watches the man leave. Like grandma always said, "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all…" She thought it was funny as hell, Dean thinks it just bit his ass.

Mr.Terrific waits until Cordero is gone, which means, the door is closed and a few moments pass. Even though all kinds of hearing enhancements mean he could still be heard, he speaks to Dean politely. "Don't talk back in such situations." He gathers with various people looking at information. "Now we are looking for actionable intelligence."

Giving Mr Terrific an unreadable look, a hard glint in his eye, Dean answers, "Apparently, you're right. Let's move on."

West unseats himself, digging his cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting up a Maverick as he wanders around to the other side of the table, looking over whatever shoulders he has to in order to see what's on the terminal screen. In addition to the cigarettes, out comes the pocket secretary, used to notate anything of interest. He stays quiet, for now, letting everyone else talk as they please.

Fergie listens to this and then sighs. She looks over to the rest of the people and then back to Valtez. Imagining Dean is somewhere beside her while Mr. T is on the other side, she reaches a hand over and pats Dean on the back once, as if to try to reassure him that we won't all die due to lack of information. "We'll be frosty, don'tchya worry chum."

Mr.Terrific , now, gets on the horn to his peeps in the Velvet Runway. "Hey, got a task that will pay you for ears to the ground. Group of runners called 'Wrath's Hand, used to be with Fuchi a long time ago, got paid in gold bullion. They'll be looking to move the bullion. Let me know if you hear about them looking to make the move."

«Auto-Judge[]» Mr.Terrific (#7242) has the Contact Velvet Runway with the following information:

----> Contact for Mr.Terrific (#7242) <----

Contact Name: Velvet Runway

Level: 1

Type: gang

GM Note: They are a wealthy gang of uptown socialites and thrill seekers.The Velvet Runway is a wealthy gang of uptown socialites and thrill seekers. This gang is based out of the Broadmoor area (PCC) and uses their knowledge of high society and fashion for a variety of crimes. They limit such crimes usually to breaking and entering and auto theft as well as low level matrix crimes.

The gang members are predominantly female with a higher than average percentage being elven as well. In general they are better equipped and dressed than your average gangers and use the following stats:

Body 3/Quickness 4/Strength 3/Charisma 5/Intelligence 5/Willpower 4. The individual members will have a variety of semi-useful society based skills as well as minor combat ability. This gang is NOT combat oriented but can hold their own and count on high class patrons such as Silk to provide better than average armaments.

Mr.Terrific clearly counts on their monetary connections as being their likeliness to know something about someone trying to move gold.

West's pocsec switches over to e-mail mode, and he starts hitting up the shadow network as well; first e-mail's put out to a Novatech J he knows. Novatech bought up a shitload of Fuchi assets during the corp war, and is run by an ex-Fuchi man; since the hitters are former Fuchi, it seems like a good idea to ask. The message is simple: 'Query: Wraith's Hand. Intel?'.

«Auto-Judge[]» West (#11410) has the Contact Carter King with the following information:

-----> Contact for West (#11410) <-----

Contact Name: Carter King

Level: 1

Type: johnson

GM Note: Mr. King is an employee of Novatech Incorporated's security division. His specialty is recruiting 'irregular assets,' one of the many individuals responsible for executing Miles Lanier's goal of rebuilding Novatech's black ops talent. He is assigned to Novatech's CAS branch, and focuses primarily on recruiting runners for operations in the CAS, though he keeps an ear to the ground for targets of opportunity in neighboring regions as well. West has worked several runs that have come down through King, primarily extractions and cargo interdiction. Like most Novatech Johnsons, he is incredibly thorough in picking through the backgrounds of assets hired for a given operation, and while he sticks to Novatech's policy of not holding past actions against a team or an individual, he is certainly not above using them for leverage.

King is a well-fed gentleman in his early 40s, and, while not above descending to a runner's level, he generally prefers discreet meetings in more upscale establishments, where both he and his security detail will not stand out. He is straight to the point in most interactions, and has little tolerance for idle conversation.

Body: 2, Quickness: 2, Strength: 2, Charisma: 4, Intelligence: 6, Willpower: 5, Reaction: 4, KP: 2

Etiquette: 4 (Corp: 8), Negotiation: 8, Megacorporate Politics: 6, Corporate Rumors: 6

Dean steps out of the hunched group, a little uncomfortable at being the focus of attention. Mutters into his mastoid phone. Calls his arms dealer pal, fixer buddy, and what the heck, the sam and merc he knows, along with his favourite snoop, Squid the Data Analyst. Putting out the word, little commission on useable intel.

Fergie gets a cable out of her coat and then jacks it into her long blonde hair. Hey, did she even have a datajack in there? Apparently. Once socketted, then she goes about contacting Mikhail Zarkovic, to see if he knows something about this corporate-go-to group and who was left and where they are now, etc.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) has the Contact Mikhail Zarkovich with the following information:

----—> Contact for Fergie (#10746) <----

Contact Name: Mikhail Zarkovich

Level: 1

Type: snitch

GM Note: Mikhail Zarkovich aka Vich the Snitch, is a former Spetnaz member who immigrated here from Russia a number of years ago. An information specialist in his previous life, Zarkovich takes great pride in knowing everything about everything in Denver and the surrounding area. He has ties to the Russian mob, and always puts business first before anything else. Zarkovich is also friends with Cassidy's asian pal Hsu, and was assisted by both Alice and Cassidy when he was pursued by Luther Reigns over a misunderstanding. For a price, Zarkovich can tell you if he knows about anything going down in the Mile High City.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Contact Sam with the following information:

-----> Contact for Dean (#9998) <------

Contact Name: Sam

Level: 1

Type: mercenary

GM Note: Former Merc, turned part-time armed robber. Met through Sam's fixer, who knows Dean's fixer Slick, when Dean was looking for muscle/backup on a shipment jacking job.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Contact Tallboy with the following information:

-----> Contact for Dean (#9998) <------

Contact Name: Tallboy

Level: 1

Type: samurai

GM Note: Fantastically tall and fast Ork Samurai. Does it old school, grotty high level cybernetics, smg with grenade launcher, improvised explosives and a taste for turning things into little bits of things. Strong gang connections, especially when it comes to Trogs.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Contact Slick Silver with the following information:

-----> Contact for Dean (#9998) <------

Contact Name: Slick Silver

Level: 2

Type: fixer

GM Note: Elven male. Unbelievable slick, stylish, and well informed. Almost as smug. Typically found in the company of his 3 bodyguards - a Troll Samurai named Nightmare, an Elven Street Mage called Spitfire, and another associate who goes by Chips.

Dean met Slick when Slick interceded on Dean's behalf at a meet, when Slick's bodyguard Nightmare tried to intimidate Dean, who began provoking the beast of a troll. Slick talked them both down and saved a life, whose, we'll never know. Recognizing that Dean wasn't tough-guy posing, but had the wherewithal to backup his play, and the fact that the Samurai hadn't overstepped his bounds and instigated unecessary violence but simply waited for the Troll to try something, Slick had the kernel by which he would develop certain respect for Dean.

This base of mutual respect for the other's capabilities in their respective fields developed over time, Dean being rewarded with tips, jobs, and 'fixing', while Slick received efforts above and beyond the call of duty from Dean, who felt he must live up to Slick's professional regard for him. Dean and Nightmare are now on speaking terms, if a little distant.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Contact Squid with the following information:

-----> Contact for Dean (#9998) <------

Contact Name: Squid

Level: 1

Type: decker

GM Note: PDA - Professional Data Analyst, Squid is an electronic sleuth extraordinaire. Obsessed with his machines, and his privacy, this guy (?) is a technophile agoraphobe. Does brilliant research though, rather good at the electronic background in creating a fake ID too.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Contact Wheela Deala with the following information:

-----> Contact for Dean (#9998) <------

Contact Name: Wheela Deala

Level: 2

Type: arms dealer

GM Note: A sultry Ork lady with a taste for dangerous men and a penchant for big guns. Wears a beret and gold caps on her well-formed tusks. One of those Ork women who make norms wonder if it's worth getting gored… They met through Slick Silver, who referred Dean to Wheela due to the Samurai's peculiar taste in armaments - she was the only one the Fixer knew who might be able to fill his order. They got to talking weapons specs, ballistic curves, penetration vs blunt trauma vs cavity vs hydraulic shock, and ent up settling the argument on the firing range. Either one frequently invites the other when heading off for some shooting or tactical firearms course training. Wheela is rumoured to be a retired Gunnery Sergeant form the UCAS Marines, she won't confirm or deny. Marines and former Marines do seem to get especially good deals though…

«Plot» Mirage says, "The terminal contains all kinds of information gained on these individuals, from police files to CIA, interpol, Fuchi records, and even elusive Saeder-Krupp dossiers that make you wonder if they include their favorite brand of gum. You have just about everything you could ask for right here on all five members, and what's this? A tracking code for the AOD emitters imbedded in some of the gold bullion."

Crowe clears his throat, but doesn't actually say anything to all of those making phonecalls or diving into the matrix. It would be rude to interrupt them. Instead he just begins downloading the information onto his sizable wristwatch. Tracking codes, Saeder-Krupp dossiers…

Dean's attention snaps to at the mention of the AOD's and dirtfiles, "Uhh… I'll call ya back Slick. Gimme a tick." Scooting back toward the others, cigarette pack in hand, forgotten for the moment, as is the cellphone dial pad.

Fergie is unaware of the wealth of info that Crowe has at hand. She continues with Mikhail for now, wondering if he has anything. "Anyone got medkit gear for advanced savior system? Per chance? I'm low on supplies." she comments.

Fergie glances toward Valtez as her call is transduced, she multitasks, "You? Do you have anything like that you can offer us, for pay of course?"

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Multitasking for "Cause it's awesome.":

1 1 2

Fergie goes glazey eyed a moment and apolozies momentarily to her phone person, for having spaced out there briefly! LOL.

"Can't help ya lady, got a regular - type kit, dunno what you just said." Dean says, distracted by what he's spotted on the screen, fielding questions not directed at him. Settles on the monitor, waiting his turn to download it onto his pocsec.

Mr.Terrific sees that tracking code stuff, and >bing!<. "Is anyone here decker enough to get a hit on those AOD tracking codes, or should we call in a decker?

West sent an email, that's all, so fortunately he's not on the phone with six different people at once. Instead, he has plenty of time to watch as Crowe downloads everything to his wristwatch, though that quickly gets old. Instead, he turns from the queue forming, taking a long drag off of his cigarette and returning around to the other side of the table, sinking back into his chair. He'll get it before they leave, but he's not going to wait in line. "Not I," he answers Mr. T, head shaking in the negative. "Though on the same sort of topic, how many hitters do we actually have here, anyway?"

"I know one, but he's not the field type. Would never see the guy." Dean puts in.

Crowe finishes download the information and just passes the laptop immediately to Fergie instead of the next person in line. Tough shit.

Mr.Terrific says to Dean, "It says five," which he clearly got by looking over-shoulder.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) spends 5000 nuyen for "Thanks, Mik! <3".

Fergie smiles to Crowe and then hooks the terminal up to her pocket computer and goes about downloading the information, too. She says to Crowe, "Thanks, Man."

Fergie finishes the work, unjacks it from her pocket computer, which now has the information upon its storage. She unjacks her own head cable from the phone after sending Mik money. Then, she jacks into the pocket computer and starts to access visuals and as much of it as she can possibly read to be familiarized, and she also tries to commit to memory as much as she can, using the ME3.

Mr.Terrific gets a message back from his contacts in the Velvet Runway. They got nothing.

Dean downloads the data, lighting a smoke while he waits. "This is gonna get interestin'."

Fergie says "A friend of mine says that these guys are known in the world of spooks as being top tier assassins. Said something about how 40 SK guys came to kill a Fuchi exec and got rolled by the five of them like they were kids."

«Plot» Mirage says, "5 known members. A rigger, a face, a caster, a sammy, and the leader, who happens to be a spec op. Who would you like to know about first?"

Mr.Terrific is only too happy to go last, because when he does, he's going to go through all 5 with everyone, psych-profiling them with the copious data out there as we go.

Fergie says "as for a decker, I know a good one. He's not very nice, but he gets the job done."

Fergie shrugs!

"So," West begins, his brows perking a little. "Forty boys from Germany came to kill these gents, and they got rolled. And we want to attempt to take them down with two, possibly three trigger-men?" Neither his tone nor his inflection really change, but his thoughts on the job are pretty clear based on the question alone.

"We play the field, not the players." Whatever that means, Dean frowns, pulling on his cig.

Fergie smirks, "Or play the players, one at a time." she offers. Then, shrugs!

West's head bobs, once. "Right. Except a tight-knit team…one goes down, the others burrow. For instance, if we left here, and I heard tomorrow you got popped? I'd assume it was related to this, and I'd be in Moscow by sun up. And we're not even tight-knit. Easier to take on their own, I'm sure. As soon as the first one's down, the other four know we're coming."

«Plot» Mirage says, "The leader is a bit of an enigma. Not that little is known about him, quite the contrary. There is so much information available on him, that 90% of it is contradictory. He has at least a dozen SINs, and is known to be increadibly skilled at just about everything from decking, to shooting people, to stealth, to flying planes, to martial arts, surgical techniques, eveything. One thing all the information agrees on: He can effectively blend in to any crowd, or be anyone."

Fergie thinks about that and then tells West, "You've got a point there." Hmm. Thinking… she sighs. There's gotta be a way… something they can do. But, for now, she continues to review the information concerning the five peeps.

"Fraggin wonderful, a murderin' renaissance man." Dean eyes it, looking for tell-tales as to how the man operates.

Mr.Terrific figures the renaissance man for a Skillwires+knowsofts+other enhancements guru.

Mr.Terrific will be watching for the chipjack switcher box that such people often have.

«Plot» Crowe says, "Is there any information on their daily activities?"

«Plot» Mirage says, "He is heavily cybered, with reaction and durability reinforcement being his most major systems. His IQ is higher than most science and research professionals. Considered armed, extremely dangerous. He is coded "target Alpha" by the Saeder-Krupp reports, and is reffered to as such in his dossier for lack of verified evidence of his true identity."

"I'm with West there, likely skillwires galore, dermal armour whatever, cranked reflexes. Best to circumvent the others, catch him by surprise, else we find he's the guy sitting beside us having coffee. BLAM!" Dean says.

"That wasn't my suggestion," West offers, helpfully. Seems he wants to make that clear.

Crowe folds his hands on the table, "There isn't enough information to make a plan." He pauses for a moment, having been largely ignoring the other runners, not unlike Valtez. Who receives a mildly amused glance from Crowe. "Let's contact them and put out a hit on one of us."

Mr.Terrific says, "That was me," as he reads on.

"Oh. Well, think it holds water anyway. Moving on." Dean placates.

Fergie looks to their mage and then taps the side of her head a little bit here, looking at him with curiosity! Is she off her rocker?

Dean says, "Hum, not bad. That could work. Don't know that I want them coming after us, however. Let's finish the role-call, then get into details, no?"

Fergie agrees.

Crowe looks forward, "If one of them gets killed during a hit job, it isn't that suspicious."

Fergie comments, "What if they all come at the same time to assist?" she asks. :P

"You wanna be the mark, Crowe?" Dean almost snickers, but eyes the Samurai with a modicum of respect, not meaning any harm.

Crowe grins at Fergie, "Then we set a big enough trap." He then looks to Dean, "It doesn't have to be a real one of us, it's easy enough to make a fake identity or even duplicate the methods that their leader is doing."

Mr.Terrific mentions, "They just got a bunch of gold, they may not be too excited about another mission really fast - especially since this mission was a loser."

Mr.Terrific says "I'm a little surprised they got paid at all for a mission that failed."

"Like I said, good idea in my opinion, but let's get the dirt on everybody first." Dean's getting a bit insistent, looking to the others for opinions.

"I'm a little surprised a team of world-class ex-Fuchi assassins with a reputation as long as my dick couldn't get past a Don's security team in the first place," West offers, lighting himself a fresh cigarette.

Fergie finally thinks about something, "Maybe they're getting old? That was like, you know decades ago, likely?"

Fergie does say this, as well!

Crowe looks at the group, "He never said the hit was failed. The hit is still on, I believe."

«Plot» Mirage says, "The caster appears to be, by the interpol assessment, a 7th grade Initiate from a group of hermetic mages tied to a terrorist organization out of Aztlan. Apparently they are criminals of the state, due to their tendency to murder Aztechnology blood mages as a quarterly ritual. The Saeder-Krupp report disagrees, stating that he is at LEAST 10th grade initiate, from an order of hermetic monks in Japan. This report claims he may be in the top 100 most powerful mages in the world, including such individuals as immortal elves and greater dragons. Whichever report you go by, they both seem to agree that he in general keeps every protective spell on himself as much as possible, has a dangerous group of connections, including several free spirits, and has a large assortment of great form elementals at his command. His personal habbits include helping others when given the oportunity, as well as enjoying the company of men. Further information can be accessed…"

Mr.Terrific , when everyone has the rundown on him, says, "Well, he's obviously the one that I get in bed with and stab with the gamma-scop needle."

Mr.Terrific , at this point, turns to Valtez and says, "Really?" in that way that is just like South Park.

Fergie also turns to look at Valtez, wishing he wasn't here listening, and all!

Fergie has an idea, but won't say in front of homeboy, buwhaaha!

Fergie turns back to Mister Terrific and then nods, "Definitely, and I can help get you all pretty for the 'affair', if you like."

«Plot» Mirage says, "The sammy goes by the name "Arcane". The S-K report heavily cites a stolen medical record… From a Mitsuhama Delta Clinic, dated 3 months ago. Full drug immunization, full conversion ultra reinforced cyberbody, the decker setup, ballistic plating, mag shielding, impact plating, standard damage control bioware including damage comp, pain editor, platelet factory, trauma damper, auto-injectors that include a coctail of various chemicals… It doesn't seem to list any reaction ware, though. It lists him as an expert in all weaponry, having a sweet spot for lasers. He is heavily backed by the Mitsuhama corporation, and maintains his own social network. God knows how, as he's practically a cyber zombie."

Mr.Terrific looks quietly from person to person around the room as the gang goes through the files. He also amuses himself looking for one-way mirrors, hidden cameras - although all of that recording equipment could be on Valtez.

Fergie nudges Mister Terrific!

Crowe notes, "We'll want to pack smoke grenades. If he packs lasers, the smoke will nullify the laser strength."

West simply smokes, like Maverick Menthols are going out of style. Which they probably will be, soon. He makes the occasional note in his little datapad, or else he's simply playing a rousing game of Snakes, pausing it now and then to not make it obvious.

Fergie mutters to Mr.Terrific, "… … … …"

Mr.Terrific amuses himself by assensing Valtez.

Fergie leans back and watches someone else watch someone else.

Dean's lost in thought, no longer registering any of them. Brooding with a frown. His cigarette singes, his fingers, snapping him out of it. "Frag!" He curses softly, under his breath.

Mr.Terrific elbows Fergie back. "He's an adept, he murmurs."

Fergie blinks and then comes to reality from her space-off. She twitches briefly before nodding to Mister Terrific and says softly, "We should get these people to line up in the street and hit them with a bus." she says. Wow. Tactics.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The rigger isn't anything special, comparative to the rest of the group. Skilled, no doubt, but not anything to write home about. Standard riggerware, known to favor vehicles over drones almost to exclusion. Enjoys racing cars, enjoys building cars even more so. He's layed back, but is definitely the newest member of their team, joining POST fall of Fuchi."

Fergie asks Ser Mage Mister Terrific, "Do you know that lightning bolt stuffs?"

«Plot» Mirage says, "The face is something of an underworld icon, having connections with just about every major and minor organization in the shadow world. She's beutiful to any man's eye, is thought to perhaps be awakened (Some sources cite she is a vampire lord from south africa. They give lots… and lots… of evidence to support this…), and is known to be of sufficient skill with enough skills as to be useful in any circumstance. It is thought that she does most of her damage through general casting, mind control, and good old fashioned fast talk and negotiation."

Mr.Terrific answers Fergie in a distant way, because he's thinking of something else: "I have no damaging manipulations. I can destroy automobiles with armor 3 or less very very easily all day long."

West says "Maybe they drive an Americar."

Fergie soaks up all the info and then stands up from her office chair and lets it pivot of its own accord after she has left it. She looks around and then to Valtrez and then back to the group, "Perhaps, we should give them back their conference room and speak of this further elsewhere? You never know…" Maybe, she's paranoid of Valtrez for some reason.

Mr.Terrific now turns to Valtez, again, and says, "Really? All this? Really? And you hired us for this?"

"One thing first, what do we have in the way of an expense account, Mr Valtez?" Addressing the bland mafia suit in the doorway.

West's head nods as Mr. Terrific speaks. "I think I've got to agree with my Awakened colleague there." He stops fiddling with his pocket secretary, snapping it shut and putting it - where else? - back in a pocket, eyes locked on Valtez. He looks…skeptical, to say the least.

Crowe watches with an amused grin.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez replies to Mr. T, "What's the problem, don't think you can handle it?""

Mr.Terrific says quite calmly to Valtez, "If these papers are correct, then this is a Slinger-level wizard. We here are all save one relatively new to Denver and to this life. To send us out against what you have on that paper would be a waste of your valuable time, as well as Mister Cordero's. I have a tough time believing that you waste your time this way. And so I cannot help but note that three of those five dossiers just happen to be twisted mirror images of ourselves; while numbers four and five are strangely bland by comparison as if a psych-profile evaluator had run out of data."

Mr.Terrific says "So I have to ask, because I assume I'm on a hidden camera; is this just a psych-profile? Is this just a test or is it for real?""

Mr.Terrific of those five dossiers three just happen

Fergie listens to the words of Mister Terrific and then grins at what he states, nodding over toward Valtez. Now, she's staring at him! Watching him! Oh noes.

West arches his brows at Mr. Terrific, head tilting slightly to the side. "You don't believe we can take down a Delta 'borg with more armor than a panzer, a vampire lord from South Africa, and a mage who made the list with Lofwyr and Hestaby?" The idea seems to amuse him immensely, a dry chuckle occurring in his throat before he silences it with another long drag off of his cigarette. "It's gas lighting. Gotta be."

Crowe looks to West, "You going to stick around, Omae?" Back to his grave self, it appears to be a serious question.

Dean looks around at his newfound colleagues, pausing to fish out another smoke, which he lights with a 'Clack!' from the zippo when it's lit. Where's he goin' with this? Or is He just trying to get the guy's goat?

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez replies rather matter of factly, "This is quite real. These people are very much alive, in the PCC right now, and plotting to take down our Don. You have been hired to handle the situation, prefferably via lateral thinking. There is several million in gold at stake. This is not a joke. You're it. All that was available on short notice.""

Fergie then asks this, "Where is the son of the don right now?"

Dean pauses at that, thinking, 'that's a no-no', but immensely curious where it'll end up.

Mr.Terrific ahas. Well, that is pretty much the only viable answer, and he does have it to hand. "And you claim to know their location. And yet you haven't, say, blown it up with rockets or chosen to use your own combat forces…" He's musing now, not demanding (if demand is the right word) any answer, but just making it plain.

Fergie is cute and is supposed to be good at asking questions and talking even if her player is rather bad at it in Real Life. :P

«Plot» Mirage says, "Knowing our good Don, probably being held in a safe house somewhere such that he's nowhere near when and where this hit will go down, or any other attacks of opportunity it will provoke if the Don does kick it." Valtez says, after consideration."

Mr.Terrific says, "All right. I think we have to go elsewhere to plan, and maybe surveil this location and a few others. Do you have a piece of equipment to trigger that AOD on the gold if we don't have it ourselves?"

Fergie also asks, "Have you any idea how he came to be in contact with these 5? Surely, there was a route of contacts and places that he used to obtain their assistance in the hit he placed. Also, if we could find out how to retract the hit on the Don, via the word of his son, who hired him… that might help."

"And why haven't you simply had him call up his buddies and ask them not to kill his dad after all? These blokes out in Pueblo territory want to get paid. I'm sure if they're allowed to keep their gold…" West nods along with Fergie as she beats him to the chain of logic.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez answers,"There's a box in the other room that has a transmitter for it, yes.""

Mr.Terrific is now satisfied, and will make sure someone picks up the box on the way out.

"That one last question, I'm not diggin' into your pockets, but we've got to know Mr Valtez - what we got in the way of expenses here? What 'we got to work with?" Dean, addressing the bland mafia suit in the doorway.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez smirks, "You think the don is stupid? If he hadn't already tried that, I would be laughing. But you know half these guys are deckers, they know how easy calls and other info can be manipulated, so they simply refuse to cancel any hit once payment has been made. Quite simple, really.""

Fergie smirks some, "but, that was his father speaking to the boy. And if we could get the son to speak to the 5 face to face… perhaps with some feminine persuasion, or whatever else it takes to make him happier, then that might work, too."

Fergie says "it's different when outside sources, not your own father, are in your face."

Mr.Terrific says "No, no, the whole 'no tap backs' is relatively common in assassinations and wetwork. Golgo 13 made use of it for sixty years."

Crowe looks over to Valtez casually from his seat. "I'll return my share of the gold in exchange for a request from the Don. Ergo this request, I will accept the run."

West's chair swivels around as he faces Valtez further, head lifting slightly. "We still free to walk, or did this become an offer we can't refuse?"

«Plot» Mirage says, "Valtez responds, "I won't tie the Don's hands, but I will say if you manage this, the Don will be mighty pleased I am certain. As far as negotiating with Wrath's Hands, that bridge has been burned, scan? Not gonna happen.""

Crowe raises his hands in mock surrender before folding them on his lap. He turns back towards the table, "I'll take the run."

Mr.Terrific says "I think it is worth a look and a plan, and it's time to head out and do that."

"I'm in." Dean puts in.

Fergie ahs to what Valtez says, sighing. She makes her best pouty face but does not say anything else, just looks over to West and then back to Valtez.

«Plot» Mirage says, "As far as offers you can't refuse, well…" Valtez considers, "Lets just say that if you decline the offer, you will be our guests here for a few days while things go down. It isn't a threat, no harm will be done, we just aren't in a situation where we'd like people walking around in the know, scan?""

Mr.Terrific has no problem.

Fergie pushes her chair into the table and then puts her various devices in the pockets of her coat. She does so with slow and moderate movements as if she were contemplating how moving is nice. She might not be moving after all this is said and done. They could all very well die. She breathes out slow.

Crowe stands up from his seat and begins to move towards the door after placing a card on the table, "Pardon me, Ser Valtez." He stops to look back at the group, "I'm going to go make some phone calls. My card's on the table." Then he looks forward again with another brief, forced smile as he waits for Valtez to open the door.

Mr.Terrific makes sure he has Crowe's number, and says, "We'll call you for the meet."

Fergie leans to look at Crowe's card to make sure that she has the info she needs to make sure she can get everyone roped together again. She has Mister T's, just needs the other two, now.

West's lips pull back into a quick, mirthless grin. "Yeah. Sure," is his only answer, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. He lights a fresh cigarette with the embers of the old one. Millions, huh? That's about what it'd take to get him to step into a situation as so remarkably one-sided as this one. If the run were against just one of the dossiers, it'd still be suicide.

Dean moves out, looking around the room, wondering what the frag he's gotten into this time.

Fergie racks her brains for some way to deal with all this. She steps out after Dean and then nudges him for his phone number and what not and all that jazz.

Dean stamps his foot impatiently

Fergie offers that we all chill at a conference room in Chrome if anyone wants, claiming to have rented it for the special occassion. There is a room that looks quite similar to that in which they were just discussing things. If… everyone wants to go there.

Mr.Terrific is totally down with the well-secured back room of Chrome.

West will go where he's told.

Fergie tells him to.

Dean "Sounds good to me chummers."

"Way I see it, we got a few starting options here." Dean says, taking a deep breath before beginning.

"1. Try to pinpoint their AO, activate the AOD, when we have a clue. Main problem there, they'll likely have it covered or spoofed already, we'll need to add another twist or two.

2. Set up a bogus mark, give them a chance to take a swing. Main problem w'that - they'll come geared up, ready for a brawl.

3. Get dirt on one of them, get that one in some kind of personal trouble. 'Cause the others to come and fish 'm out, without thinking there's somethin' uh… afoot.

4. Slip them a collective mickey, in their chow, leaving the 'zombie, and maybe needing a distraction fer the magicker, so he doesn't sniff us out with his 'protective spell' doohickeys.

5. Use advance money to hire a distraction, gang, bribed cops, or the like. Needs further development."

Fergie closes the doors. Hopefully, she has also rented the unlocking codes, for the maglocks bolt. The music outside is mostly dampened now, barely at a conscious level of volume. "Ok…"

Mr.Terrific says "If we catch one or two of them alone and they are not the wizard, I have a decent chance of taking over their mind and using them against the others."

Mr.Terrific says "The rigger is, to me, the weakest link."

West says "Depending on what he's driving, sure."

Mr.Terrific says "He has the power to kill the rest of them, while he is the weakest at defending himself against me, if I can see him and the wizards are not with him."

"Interesting, I like the mind control. Agreed about the Rigger.

Fergie grins and likes this idea. She looks to Mister Terrific, "That would be: epic." and then she looks to the rest of them and sighs, "We could do this, but these people are super. Also, we're working for mobsters against… other shadowrunners? It's kinda like, I dunno." She throws that out there, shrugs.

Mr.Terrific says "If any of us have vehicles, and the rigger is mind controlled, he could use the rigger to use those other vehicles as suiciders."

Mr.Terrific says "These are fuchi wetwork assassins gone rogue."

Mr.Terrific says "No foul to take them down."

Mr.Terrific says "The problem with mind controlling the rigger to undertake various suicidal actions is that I have to be with him, in line of sight, to keep him on my side."

Dean says "Agreed, we're doing the world a favor."

Mr.Terrific says "I could, for example, be in an enclosed car with him while he drives several vehicles in to kill the others, and the rest of you engage in your own ways."

Dean says "Use him to get some or one of the others vulverable…"

Mr.Terrific says "I am also skilled at questioning people - so if we could capture him, we could get a lot of information out of him."

West says "What about gassing 'em out? Their delta 'borg ain't gonna go down from it, but I didn't hear anything on any of the others that'd make me think pumping a shitload of, say, Seven-7 into their abandoned steel mill."

Fergie thinks about this, "And the mob, they're pretty bad, too. Right? Or am I stuck with trid goggles?" She shrugs and then sits down. "If they're not all present at the rigger bombing… I could try to play fake hooker or something really weird."

Mr.Terrific says "It's a great idea, but do you have enough drug?"

Dean says "Anybody got seven-7 on hand?"

Dean says "Okay, we can maybe isolate the rigger, we've got an approxiamate fix on 'm. Can we confirm their location?"

Fergie thinks of West's idea and then comments, "No, but nausea gas. Got some of that crap. Lots of it. Also, what if we had a building where people go often and were able to vent it out through the purposefully-built air systems?"

West concludes, "…was a bad idea," so that his previous statement actually made some level of sense. He may be tired. "And nah, I do not have any Seven-7. I'd be willing to bet our friends from the Cordova family could help us out with it, though. They want their Don around - really think they're going to haggle if we come up with a plan that'll work and need some specific items?"

Fergie looks to West, wondering what he thinks of intentionally vented building.

Mr.Terrific says "At some point, we are going to have to try distantly surveilling that abandoned steel mill to see if they are thee and if it is actually being used."

West thinks it's a fine idea, though he's not entirely sure what Fergie meant, so they may be at cross purposes.

Dean says "Yeah, let's get bare bones first."

Mr.Terrific thinks, with his telepathic wizard skills, that Fergie wanted to lure these guys into a specially prepared building.

Fergie thinks Mister Terrific is RIGHT. :P

Dean says "Can you do that? Control more than one?"

Mr.Terrific says "I have a radius of seven meters, which makes a circle of fourteen meters. I have a shot at controlling anyone inside that circle as long as their wizard is not there."

Mr.Terrific says "Any command I give, all targets will try to fulfill."

Dean says, Anyone in 14m? Not too shabby.

Mr.Terrific says "Magic is not guaranteed, just like shooting someone in the head is not guaranteed. Just so you know. It's an art, not a science."

Dean says, The cyberzombie, if he's actually in that territory, might be a problem for that. The 'vamp' too, if the rumors are true.

Fergie wows to what Mister Terrific can do. "That's… scary."

"And if their wizard's there," West offers, speaking slowly. "Then he can do the same to us. Probably all of us. At the same time. They wouldn't even need to fire a shot. Just have us kill each other. Do we really want to consider options that involve us getting close to any of these assholes?"

Mr.Terrific says "The cyberzombie has a mind - he's not immune. The vamp would be tougher than the others, most likely."

Fergie pipes up again, "I think we should rent the special vented building and uh get who we can in that fiasco. That might make Mister Terrific's trick easier to do if they're all distracted with something screwing them up."

Dean says, "The zombie may not be immune, but might be a problem. Especially with 5 a once

Fergie says "we might not wanna use seven if there's a horde of other people there, but something else. Something that screws people up but doesn't kill em."

Mr.Terrific says "Remember, if I cast the mind-screw, that will likely be all I'm doing. I'll do it if I have a good shot. But unconsciousness is much, much, much easier."

Dean says, "Knock out is fine."

Fergie says "can you single out one person to mind frag?"

Mr.Terrific says "I cannot."

Mr.Terrific says "I only have area of effect on that."

Fergie smirks and asks Mister Terrific, "Can you learn it over night?!" joking.

Dean says, "So if we're in the zone, we're fragged too?"

Fergie says "Not necessarily, let's say that all of them except the zombie are gassed, and then Mister Terrific is using some binoculars up in some area that is not getting the gas, he might be able to bust a zone of folks and tell them all to kill the zombie. It'd be a fray of that and the zombie killing himself?"

Mr.Terrific says "You'll follow the same orders I give to whoever gets hit."

Dean says, "Great…"

Mr.Terrific says to Fergie, "That could happen."

Fergie says "so then you'd be attacking the zombie in that case, while he stabs himself or lazors himself…?"

Mr.Terrific tells everyone, "I'm pretty good at laying down my AOE not to hit my pals."

Mr.Terrific tells Fergie, "Don't have the formula."

Fergie asks Mr. T, "I hope I'm your pal, then."

Dean says, "I'm hoping none of us get close enough anyway…

Fergie durns, "I could write one but prolly not fast enough." She le sighs.

Dean says, "Anyway. How do we handle the shielded mage?"

Mr. Terrific says, "Big Guns, Heavy Autofire, Don't Get Seen."

Dean says, "And say he's got heavy ballistic shielding?"

"Hmm, yes. That. And maybe a melee person." Ferguson says.

Mr. Terrific says, "Explosives, rockets, gas. It's hard to be that well defended against serious weaponry that I'm assuming at least one of us has."

Fergie says softly, "I got a PAC on a bike. I would have to drive the bike up into the building… if we use the building idea."

Dean says, "Who's got the heavy weapons then?

Mr. Terrific rolls his eyes ceilingward. "I have APDS and AV for the heavy pistol. I have some autofire weapons I haven't really trained with."

Dean says, "You good enough withthat beast to play artillery, Ferg?"

Fergie shrugs her shoulders, "Never tried, just read about it… never shot it."

"So I'm guessing I'm the only guy here who can reliably hit the broadside of a barn with anything heavier than a pistol, yeah?" is West's question.

Dean says, "Me, gyrojet. Packs a punch, in a small package.""

Dean says, "Looks like."

To West, Ferg nods, "I think so. Can you shoot a mounted PAC?"

Mr. Terrific says, "I have an assault rifle and and SMG and I have EXEX for both of them, and I am happy to put those in the hands of anyone who can use them."

West shakes his head slowly, rubbing his beard. "So. We've got a mission to assassinate some assholes that none of want to get anywhere close to, and the only person we have who can hit from long range, other than our mage…is me."

Dean says, "We're outclassed for heavy weapons, no matter how we cut it, go another route."

Mr. Terrific says, "Welcome to hell, here's your accordion."

Fergie makes the accordian demo, miming the hell out of it, and you almost swear you can hear the sound.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Acting (Miming):

1 1 1 2 4 5 7 9

Dean says, "Individual vulnerabilities on the opposition?"

Dean says, "Leader, I think we need surprise. Or Magic."

Dean says, "Rigger, anything out of his vehicle, or lay some explosives."

Dean says, "Help me out here."

Still playing the accordian that does not exist, Fergie looks over to Dean and then says, "I think we need to lure the mage with a pretty boy, perhaps you, into an area with heavy background count. Then, we take him from all sides. And, if we can do this quick and snappy on all of them, perhaps they might not all know that their buddies are dying one by one. But, if we take too long…"

Mr. Terrific says, "My idea is that the rigger is the weakest link. I want to take him out when he's out on the town because he's the only one who really goes out on the town."

Dean says, "Agreed about the rigger. How can we capitalize on him?"

Dean says, "Mind control, we were onto something there. How can we use HIM as bait?"

Mr. Terrific says, "We have to surveil them from a distance, and spot him coming or going.

West furrows his brow into a slight frown. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but these moffies are preparing for a hit, are they not? On a Mafia don? I'm not so sure that getting them where we want them to be is going to simply consist of walking up and going, 'Hi, I'm Drake. Want to come with me?' Tomorrow morning, someone tries to get you somewhere where you don't normally go, are you going? I'm sure as hell not. Not on this job."

Dean says, "We need to use him to get to the others."

Mr. Terrific says, "I also need to know if their whole place is Warded. It's hard to do a big space, but you never know. If the whole place is Warded, then it's possible that a mind-controlled person is set free upon entering the steel mill."

Crowe enters the private room after some time, "Hey, gents and lady,"

Mr. Terrific concurs with West. "They DO have to come and go, to manage their contacts, scam up information, make meets, and so forth."

Dean says, "Hey man." Returning to the discussion. "So we distract them, rig the whole place to blow."

Thinking further and still moving her hands in a small confined space of empty air, Fergie nods to West and then gets up. She had to go unlock the door for their compadre. She did, though. Then, closed it and relocked it behind. "Assuming that a 7th grade initiate… or possibly 10th grade… mage is probably good at anchoring, we can't take him out first if the rest use stuff that he made for them. Everyone would know something was wrong if their foci just suddenly died. Just a thing I thought."

Mr. Terrific grins. "If we have a shot at the mage, just go for it with everything you got."

"Actually… fuck yeah." Fergie says, changing her mind about that one!

Crowe raises a point, "You can't just blindly attack these members, comrades." He says in a distinctly Russian accent.

Fergie looks toward Crowe and head tilts, "What'd you learn, omae?"

Crowe tacks on, "Make it look like an accident, if they know we're after them, we're fucked. We'll be skinned. What we need to do is set a mark and a trap."

West lights himself a fresh cigarette, sucking air through his teeth for a few moments. "Mind control the rigger. Pack his car full of as much explosives as he can. Mind control his ass into their little compound. Detonate. Shoot anybody that comes out, or…you know. Whatever it is the rest of you do."

Mr.Terrific nods to West. "That is a wonderful plan, except that I have to have a visual on the rigger until the very end.. if he can remotely drive his cars though, we can pack a car, and he can sit with me, and remote-drive the car in to do the boom boom.

Dean says, "Sounds like a good plan. Any problems?"

Crowe raises his hands, "Hear me out, chummers. Listen to my plan and dissect it from there as you wish."

Fergie listens to what West says and then nods, "I got 19 kilos of C4… would that be enough?" Then, she looks to Crowe, and she goes quiet.

Dean says, "Get him driving a boosted convertable."

Dean waits for the gillette to finish, watching him with renewed interest.

Crowe moves over to the table, "Let's get the Don to host a party. An official gathering. Something that'll say, 'If you want to get me, come at me now.' and have his thuggish spread the word. What we'll do is set a trap amongst all the people. The 'Don' will be in the back room accepting favors from guests. With luck, one or all of these Assassins will come disguised as a patron to make a favor with the Father." He indicates he isn't finished.

Crowe looks to Fergie now, "Our 'lady of the evening' will be the one to guide the guests one by one to that room. Meanwhile the room will be our trap." He looks back to the table, "We'll know it's our guy if he tries to kill the person posing as the Don. We'll spring our trap. Mind control the first, trace his vehicle bomb it. The next of the guests is allowed in and we flytrap the rest of them."

Crowe makes an elaborate gesture, "There we have them. One at a time."

"Okay. The problem with that is? One of them, against five of us, in an enclosed room? I'll put my money on the one of them, any day of the week, especially as it ain't gonna be the rigger," is West's assessment of that plan.

Crowe looks at West, "Would you rather drive a vehicle full of bombs into a building that may not contain all of them? Then we fail, comrade. At least this way we can engineer a death for each one. Plus we have the home territory advantage."

Dean says, "I like it. But d'ya expect them to come in one at a time, all meek-like?

Fergie smiles slightly, "If I were them, I would wait until the Don moved from the party to the vehicle in which he would travel to head home, and get him in that slot of time there. Also, if I were being escorted and had any chance to knock out the escort, I would probably do that as well, so there is me by myself getting ganked… maybe?"

Mr.Terrific says "If we kill enough of them, it is entirely likely they will scrub the mission."

Crowe looks to Dean, "What choice do they have?" He looks to Fergie then, "They can't draw attention to themselves. You notice there's no story of major assassinations on the news. They need to stay hidden."

Mr. Terrific says, "I think we need surveillance information now."

Mr. Terrific says, "Is there anyeone here decent enough at supreme distance surveillance? Appropriate vision magnification?"

Dean says, "You'll notice that three of them might blend in, the mage and the sammy, I doubt it."

Fergie listens and then says, "What do you think of being able to use a building that can vent toxins to its audience? Would that assist in all this?"

Fergie waves a hand to Mister Terrific.

Dean says, "Not bad myself."

West says, flat out, "I'm not putting myself in a room with a hostile high-level initiate that's on a list that includes fucking Lofwyr. End of goddamn story."

Dean says, "Ditto. Explosives sound like an elegant solution to me.""

Mr. Terrific says, "With good vision mag, we can surveil that place from three kilometers out, and the area they have to cover to see us is very very wide indeed. That's what we need from here."

Crowe looks at West, "Elegant? What about the response from the police? You all seem to be forgetting the purpose of this run. We need to kill every single one of them or we don't get paid."

Fergie comments, "If we keep it in the warrens, or castle rock, or somewhere… where the police don't like to go, that might help."

Crowe looks to Fergie, "We can set up a gas trap in the 'Don's Meeting Room'. Like I said, we have the home field advantage and can set up anything."

Mr. Terrific says, "Remember, the gold - and anything they have on them - is our payment.

Crowe says "It's a lot better than running a drekload of explosives into their compound. And what about the gold? You'll destroy that too."

Mr. Terrific says, "It doesn't matter if we kill them as long as we get the gold. Actually, if we stole the gold, that would be the only likely thing to convince them not to exert themselves."

Fergie shakes her head and tells Mister Terrific, "He said to kill em."

"Not killing them and making off with the gold just has the dagos after us next," is West's answer.

Dean says, "That was my understandin' too."

Mr. Terrific says, "Plastique doesn't blow up that way - it's directed. And gold is dense. We'll lose value, but it won't be 'gone'. And get me, I am totally for killing them all."

Crowe says "Gold is also soft and easily damaged."

Mr. Terrific says,"We are getting off topic. And we don't even know where the gold is or how it is secured.

Mr. Terrific says, "Or how we're getting it across the border."

"So, we use the party advantage. If we can get all the thugs to help, and to work together with us, to perhaps act as security on our comm network while using a ventilated building… without telling anyone that they are going to be gassed during this, of course… perhaps we could figure out who does and does not fit in the crowd. When enough of them are present, blow the gas… go for mind controlling and kicking ass… and… borders, ugh." She kinda rambles on for a bit there, just thinking aloud. Some of it works. Some doesn't.

Fergie said that!

Mr. Terrific says, "May I now make a motion for more evidence?"

Fergie says "I have a PCC sin."

Crowe nods, "That's possible, or even invite the whole five man wetwork team into the don's room, seal it, and gas the entire room."

"Yeah," West nods to Mr. Terrific.

Dean says, "Let's scope them out, no?"

Fergie says "I can also fix us SINs easy in a couple hours, if I need to. But, y'all will need to pay me like 16k for em if you want a 4th grade one… and not even sure that will pass border check."

Mr. Terrific says, "Anyone know a good smuggler to move weapons into the PCC?"

Mr. Terrific says, "And does anyone need my assault rifle with exex and my smg with exex?"

West asks, "What's the rifle?"

Mr. Terrific says, "Colt M-23

"Nah," West answers. "I'll take the rounds, though."

Dean says, "Nope and nope. Got a camo suit and the optic mods, not a fantastic SIN though, not watertight."

Dean says, "Bout as good as what Fergie described. Think it'll pass muster? I'm not so sure."

Mr. Terrific passes over 4 10-round clips of assault rifle ExEx to West for his use as needed when the time comes.

"As far as gettin' weapons into the PCC," West continues. "I've got chemsealed smuggler's holes on my bike, and on my car. Not sure I want to test them against the tech Injuns, but as a last resort, it might work, so long as my SIN doesn't pop."

Crowe shakes his head and stands up, "I'm sorry, chummers. If you're going to smuggle weapons and explosives, I'm opting out."

Dean tries to placate the man, "I've got a buddy deals in weapons, maybe get us a contact over there. Or even a smuggler t' help out."

Mr. Terrific says, "I mean hey, at this point, if we spot that 'borg in the PCC why don't we just tell the PCC on them?"

Mr. Terrific says, "Snipe them in the escape."

Dean says, "My thoughts earlier, why not just use the cops, the army, whoever to get these guys?"

Fergie listens to what everyone says and then comments, "Maybe the contact idea… I like that, someone across the border who can supply gear." Then, she nods to Mister Terrific, "Why do tomorrow what you can get others to do for you today, right?" She grins. "Though, that's considering that they do not have tight buddies in the law enforcement there. They prolly had to."

Crowe waves it off, "They'll ask how you got the information, and you'll be in knee-deep drek then. Anyways, I'm out hombres. Drawing attention to myself isn't my deal in the Shadowrunner business." He makes his way to the door.

Mr. Terrific sadly nods to Fergie. "Alas, it just isn't guaranteed like us being the ones who di it."

Mr. Terrific tells Crowe, "If you walk, I suggest you walk right back to Mister Valtez to take him up on his offer for a two-day vacation."

Crowe turns back to grin, "That's exactly what I was going to do. It's preferable."

Fergie sighs over toward Crowe, "No one is doing anything just yet, just talking over possibilities, mano." She shrugs and looks to Mister Terrific, nodding slightly.

Mr. Terrific says, "You can still help us with the surveillance?"

"I know how we can get the cops involved," West observes, quietly, after several moments of thought, apparently not feeling the urge to get involved in Crowe's departure.

Crowe shakes his head, stopping at the door. "Mage will be able to see me. I'm not any good at circumventing mage encounters. Ciao, chummers. Good luck on your run."

Dean lights another smoke, losing patience with the bickering. Watching the fireworks. "Crowe, why you out now?"

West nods to Mr. Terrific's suggestion. "Hell, I actually vote we go across clean, if all we're doing is recon. We're not moving on these moffies without a plan, right?"

Mr. Terrific says, "Absolutely."

Dean says, "Right. Bona fide tourists. Bird watchers." Dean chuckles to himself.

Fergie says, "Clean surveillance sounds good. Maybe even get binoculars to go along with our bird watcher stuff… and our mage man can assense from afar with those. That'd be a great idea." She grins to Dean, "Awesome."

Mr. Terrific says, "I do in fact have binoculars."

Dean says, "Was a joke, actually. But what they hey!"

"Sometimes, the silliest shit gets you awesomeness." Ferguson says. "Anyway…" She stands and heads for the door and unlocks it for Crowe, "Sorry, man."

Fergie says "Be cool. See you some day."

«Plot» Mirage says, "And we resume. Back at the meeting room…"

"So no survey? I thought we were doing that and then deciding what to do based on intel." Dean asks, clearly disconcerted at all the angles which seem to amount to… nada

"Before we all go running off to get popped by the Injuns," West interrupts, or whatever verb is appropriate given what happened just prior to him saying all of this. "I think we oughta consider a couple cold, hard facts, mate. Bottom line, as I see it? We try and fight these fuckers, we're smoked to the man, if they're even have as good as their dossiers suggest. Ain't gonna speak for anybody but myself, but my counterpart in that little crew would geek me before I even knew he was there. We end up anywhere within five hundred meters of these slots and they've got a clear line of sight to us, I think that's it. So…" He takes a breath, and a catchy little ensemble peace starts to play in the background. "We gotta get somebody else to do the fightin' for us. My thoughts? PSE, the PCC security service. Cops, military…call 'em what you want. We con 'em, straight up, into going in there so we don't have to, or at least not as combatants. I'm thinking implanted memories, trid phantasms, anything we can think of to get a wide-ass number of their boys thinkin' somethin' big and serious and involvin' the PCC is goin' down, so that they go in hard. We come in after 'em, dressed up like Injun DocWagoners, and, if the gold's there, we make the haul with it covered up like bodies on stretchers, or at least as much of it as we can. If it ain't there, we high tail it right back out."

"Either that, or we surveil, and crash a plane into the site." Dean adds, all in favour of making someone else risk their necks.

Mr.Terrific says "I'm not the best in the world at it, but I can implant memories."

Mr.Terrific says "The PSE is supposed to be pretty hot and heavily magical spiritwise."

"Yes, let's forget the gold and do something by proxy. I'm into that, and just having it nice with the Cordero is good enough for me. And, to not have their wrath on our heads for fucking up." Ferguson says, settling into one of the seats after she's locked the door after the exit of ser Crowe.

West tilts his head slightly at Mr. Terrific. "Not sure what you're gettin' at, mate."

Mr.Terrific says "I'm saying the PSE has the tools to overwhelm their magician."

"Ah. Right. Good," is West's response to this information, his head bobbing enthusiastically. "And I'm bettin' they've got the tools to overwhelm everythin' else, too, at least more than we got. Anybody else really wanna end up in a gunfight with a 'borg that favors lasers? Not somethin' I'm lookin' forward to. Cordero wants 'em dead, but unless he's an extremely literal man, I doubt we gotta pull the triggers ourselves to make that happen. And hey, maybe we get lucky - send all kinds of rolling death in their on them, hit that little AOD tracker, and find out the gold was stored somewhere else."

Dean says, "I'm all for it. Nuke the fraggers by messin' with some Colonel's head, hope for the best wit' regards ta the gold."

Mr.Terrific says "Do we have any knowledge as to what connections these guys might have with the PCC already for to be allowed to have all their heavy crap with them in there? Or do we think they snuck it in and they don't have high end contacts covering for them?"

Mr.Terrific experimentally checks out the dossier just to be sure.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The mage has connections with the PCC, the leader has heavy connections with the PCC and their military, the vamp is connected to everything you can think of."

" We could raise a false biohazard, nuclear, or mana frag alarm, get the army types to cordon off the area. Then, we crash a plane or that car fulla explosive into the place. Look fer the loot once the alarm is known t'be bogus." Dean speaks up, "Whaddaya think?"

Mr.Terrific hms at the dossier. "We'd have to really piss them off, looks like; considering they Know People."

Mr.Terrific asks Dean, "Do you have a spare plane or car or large amount of explosives?"

Fergie says "I got 19 kilos of c4."

"I know this is a stupid question before I ask it," West begins. "But there's no way to fake, say, the creation of an insect spirit hive, is there?" The question seems to be primarily directed at Mr. Terrific.

" Car's not a problem. Fergie's got the explosives. Who has a car for a half mil?" Dean retorts.

Mr.Terrific brings up an app on his pocsec to calculate the blast radius of that amount of C4. "That might injure one of them if it lands right on them."

Fergie decides to access the info and figure out how old they are, "How old are these guys?" She mumbles, reading.

"Or wake the 'borg up," West adds. "Though I do like the idea of waitin' for 'em to die of old age, if that's where you're going."

Fergie snickers softly.

Mr.Terrific shakes his head. "No. I met a Mantis Free Spirit once and gave it some advice. It was also immune to everything anyone could do. I could send it a message and ask it for a favor. Kind of like dealing with the devil."

Mr.Terrific says "Supposedly we got two days."

West shrugs again. "What's that line about reigning in hell versus serving in heaven? Deal with the devil sounds like the better alternative here, short of meeting him outright by taking this head-on."

Fergie says, "I wish we had an awesome decker that could handle some of this."

Dean interjects with, "But you guys think the 'alarm' thing, plus explosives is doable, or am I blowing air past my teeth here?"

Mr.Terrific tells Dean, "It's something, but it's not enough. It's not the entire plan."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Ages for the targets are: Leader-Likely over 50. Mage-35. Cyborg-42. Vamp Lord-Unknown, either 38, or over 500. Rigger-27."

"I think if you had some explosives with a yield calculated in kilotons, we might be in business. Otherwise?" West shrugs. "And it sounds like they're dug in with the PCC pretty good, so it's doubtful we could even get the PCC to move…short of having something with a yield calculated in kilotons."

Mr.Terrific nods to this. "We'd pretty much need to engage in a crime spree that we could logically pin to their asses. Like I think someone mentioned - capture the rigger if he leaves the house, kill a bunch of a cops, implicate him, put in memories.

Dean puts in, "Sounds decent. Nabbing the rigger, making the cops or military /have to/ tail him back to his badass buddies."

West shakes his head slightly. "We might be committing the sin of assuming the rigger's the weak link just because he's the newest team member. World-class assassins probably didn't pick up some guy with a datajack and a souped-up 3220."

Mr.Terrific says "Weak just being a matter of scale."

Dean asks, "What else we got? Every plan get shot down 'cause these fraggers are so baaaad."

Mr.Terrific says "So again, we also don't know if they're actually at the steel mill, we don't know if they ever leave it considering they have an active mission for which they've been paid."

"So, are we back to square one, checking out the site with no plan on the table?" West asks.

Dean grates out, " I say we scope the place, mind-frag the rigger, load his car with c4, leaving the heat to tail him after he's run amok, blow the fraggers once we confirm the AO, and the fuzz gets to watch the fireworks and move in to mop up." He lights another smoke, glaring at the ember like he wants to kill.

" Then we check on the bullion at 'r leisure." Dean adds.

Mr.Terrific says "A lot of these plans are fine and good starts. But like you yourself say, if we get spotted and recognized within five hundred meters of these guys, as they are on paper, we're dead. Most of our plans take that into account, but we still are going on evidence we haven't confirmed."

West nods. "Time to take a look around, then."

Mr.Terrific says "If the rigger never leaves considering they have an active mission, then there's no way to isolate him. If the mage never goes to a gay bar, I can't seduce him. And so on."

Dean grumbles, " Get the intel. Hire some fragger ta do it, ya don't want to go yerself. Not that I'm too keen on it."

Mr.Terrific says "Ya want me to hire my decker, I can do that. Anyone got any questions for him?"

Dean speaks up, " Anybody pilot?"

Mr.Terrific does not, and shakes his head.

Dean speaks up, " Still not a bad idea to frag the whole scene with a hijacked cargo plane or the like. Provided we got eyes-on."

Dean checks the dossiers, looking closely. Smoke rolling around him.

«Plot» Mirage says, "They've made enemies with a few small governments, organizations… But usually these are after major hits, and all the ones on the list are either gone or destabilized."

Dean blows smoke through his teeth, saying in an even voice, " We get some baddies involved, as anonymously as possible, like Alamos 20k, or whoever. Tell them a tale o' gold and stupid mercs. Let them do the dirty work. Hope they don't find us while we use the tracker, which they don't have to know about. Huh?"

Mr.Terrific says "If only we knew some good vampire hunters. But I shouldn't bother saying 'if only.'"

Dean goes, " So we got something? You guys bite on this plan? Just bare bones, feel free to speak up. 'Course."

"If they're not tied in even tighter with Alamos 20K and Chimera than they are with the PCC, that might work," West offers. "But it would involve us getting in touch with serious people inside two days, and explaining why we don't personally want the gold ourselves."

Mr.Terrific peers inquisitively over at Fergie. "Well, we DO have a face who has years of experience and knows a hell of a lot of people."

Mr.Terrific says "She COULD put out the word to a hell of a lot of people."

Mr.Terrific says "If they are at that steel mill, we could have it crawling with lame-ass to mid-grade players, depending."

Dean brightens up, " Make it public, or semi-public, or just shadow board public! We'll have plenty of competition, but better than this crew. And we'd still have the AOD."

Fergie hears this and snaps her fingers, "Awesome! Everyone and their dog after all this… if they don't all cop out due to intimidation."

Mr.Terrific says "And we play along the edges, and take our snipes if we have them but don't pull aggro."

Mr.Terrific says "Oh, there's enough stupid people who'd go out to the PCC and give it a look.. look at us!"

"People have got to buy it," West observes. "Why is there millions' worth of bullion sitting in the PCC? We mention the hit, Cordero gets pissed."

Dean's on a roll, " Yeah, this'll work, I got a good feelin'! Never underestimate the power o' stupidity, or greed fer that matter."

Dean's perking up, well pleased to feel some progress, " Let's hash this out then."

"So if they're there," West concludes. "We get the word out to everyone we know, 'cept…how do we keep these super-duper know-everybody-worth-knowin' assassins from hearing about it and just moving one block over?"

Fergie thinks and then says, "Then they'd leave the base wide open, and all the stuff in it. But, they prolly got a security grid. Which could prolly be controlled from the trix if they hook it up." She sighs.

Dean butts out the last half of his bent cigarette, " Good question. We Johnson it, saying we want the gold. You mere runners get a healthy cut. Our 'greed' makes it more believable. They work on commission, for the jackpot." Dean smiles.

Mr.Terrific begins developing the story. "The lure is the gold. Some 'runners, based in the PCC, stole a motherload of gold from some Talismongers taking in a shipment to refine down and make Orichalcum like the PCC mages do to power their gear. But now they're holed up in the PCC tryin' to work their way out.

Mr.Terrific adds, "We got an address where they're at, but they're trying to move, so if you want to make a hit on them, you gotta hit fast."

Dean squints around at the others, following intently, " With ya so far, sounding good mah man. What if they do evac, like Fergie said?"

Mr.Terrific says "If we're on site for the evac, we hit their vvehicle with a plane crash and C4?"

Mr.Terrific says "If we're not then who knows?"

Mr.Terrific says "So, the thing is, this is a rumor taht we are giving out."

Mr.Terrific says "We are not the johnson, we are not the seller, we are not the connector."

Mr.Terrific says "We are giving this out to fixers and faces, to deckers, to people 'in the know.'"

Mr.Terrific says "They circulate it, they develop their own intel, they try to make their own hit within the two days."

West shakes his head, "No. It can't be a rumor. It's a rumor, they hear it. They know the head of the PCC military, remember? Hell, they probably ARE the head of the PCC military. They probably know every J in town, every fixer in town, every ganger in town. We do a public reveal, they vanish."

Dean puts in his two cents, " Plane problemo again. Don't have one, don't know how to fly one. Yeah, but we don't want them hightailin' it, do we?"

Mr.Terrific says "I don't know how many million in gold they have or how easy it is to move. Another thing we don't know."

Mr.Terrific says "I expect them to hear the rumor, actually."

Mr.Terrific says "I think they won't ghost until they have to kill a bunch of people. Because they are that cool, rememeber?"

Fergie says "I'm somehow thinking that even if we did get the millions that fencing the drek would not produce millions but only hundreds of thousands."

Mr.Terrific says "Obviously, no guarantees, but on the other hand, if they are moving their entire op they aren't killing the Don."

Mr.Terrific concurs with Fergie.

"We also don't know if they have the gold there at the site, like idiots, or if they have it stashed in Antarctica. Or the Amazon. Packing up and vanishing may be as simple as turning off the lights and locking the doors," is West's opinion.

Mr.Terrific says "Ah, but they have cars, vehicles, heavy lazers, ammo."

Mr.Terrific says "They have security systems, etc. I'm sure they have a bug-out plan, but it limits them."

Mr.Terrific says "They do have a base and utility to defend."

"Maybe they do, maybe the don't," West counters. "To be honest with you, if we're the best that Cordero can come up with as a counter-assassination team, they might just have a ganger with an Ares Predator, because that's apparently all you'd need."

Dean adds conversationally, eyes looking up at 'imagination space', " So you want them ta run? or make a stand? Ahhh, bet on their egos. Has merit. Sounds pretty damn good. They run, we get a clearer shot at the gold. They can't carry it all so easy. They stick, it's a war o' attrition, with other fools doin' the dying."

Mr.Terrific grins to West.

Mr.Terrific says "So. Do we want to start a rumor-based plan, or not? Do we want to refine it differently?""

Dean grins despite himself, looking to the others for the same.

Mr.Terrific says "Is it acceptable to fail by making them spend their time moving and running away?"

Mr.Terrific says "If they're on the run, then theoretically, they aren't hitting on the Don with their usual perfectness of skill and aplomb."

Dean says, "Sounds okay if they run away. We can set that c4 as land mines, other non-contact ambushes. Then activate the AOD."

West shakes his head. "The job isn't to make them fail. Who's to say Cordero's not a dick and will say, nah, they're still out there, job was to kill them in two days? Who's to say they even need to be in Denver to plan their hit? Most assassins I've heard of fly into town rather than hanging out for a week waiting to get picked up. That said, I think our only shot is mobbing the site with as many bodies as possible, but we run into logistical problems - how do we get the word out without it going so public everybody hears, and thus they hear? How do we make sure everybody shows up at the same time? Bob's band of gangers gets there first, they know they're blown, they move. By the time the screaming horde hits the site…"

Mr.Terrific says "Cordero also said the gold is our payment. He's not paying us no matter what."

Mr.Terrific says "I think those are acceptable risks in this plan because those acceptable risks happen to other people."

Dean says, "Zero contact. Null exposure. Take anybody a week to track who started the rumour. Swarm them with opposition. Wear them down, take our shot. We can lure them back to the gold if need be, after we have it. Kill 'em with a new plan then."

Dean says "No?"

Dean says, "I can get the Ancients involved. Think that'll cut it?"

West says, "The problems, as I see them are this: we don't know for sure they're even at this site. I don't know how we could possibly know all five of them are. If we could confirm that somehow, it might be a reasonable plan. The second problem is…I mean, seriously, guys. Guy with Cordero's wealth and resources and contact list, we're the ones he gets when his life's threatened by world-class assassins? There's something that just doesn't add up about any of this."

Fergie pipes up then, "I got connections with the Saints… solid, but uhm, I don't think I like the idea of sacrificing my own homies, and I have had it come back on me when I asked the gangers stuff before just about the uh, Crimson Smoke and all that drek."

Dean says, "Seriously, I know one o' the Ancients' fixers. Put the word out nicely, these hombres got Ancients connections?"

Mr.Terrific says to West, "We know that already. His answer is, "You were what's available on this time frame." So the answer to that is, we are sacrificial lambs with big dreams and hey, if we pull it off, great.

Dean says, "We're likely not the only team on contract… But that's fine. We got a decent plan, and the AOD ace up our sleeves."

Mr.Terrific says "Our maneuver of using rumors to drag in a zillion guys and bury the baddies in them pursuant to trying to tag them on the way our or something is our way to sell the risk along to the next person."

"So maybe our plan should be trying to collect a security consultant's fee," West answers. "Give me a million 'yen and twelve hours, I'll have a decent team lined up for this gig." He lights a cigarette. "One and only problem with the rumor plan is blowback. We put out word that there's bullion out there, and nobody finds it, or, even worse, there actually isn't, that's eventually gonna get tracked back to us, and anybody who lost chummers going after it might wanna have a word."

Mr.Terrific says "We'll give them Cordero's info."

Mr.Terrific says "He's the one who told us about the gold."

Fergie says "say we heard about it from the mob?"

Mr.Terrific says "The thing is we don't have the money to pay anyone to do this for us. I certainly don't."

Dean says, "So how does your 'Security Consultant' Scam get us our bodies, West?"

"It was more of a joke," West answers Dean. "And we say we got our info from the mob, we take two in the head. They told us not to go public with word that they're getting hit, remember? That's why Kid Stealth's spending two days in solitary."

Mr.Terrific says "This is for if people come after us later, though."

Dean says, "Yeah, we don't have to mention any hit. No need to mention the mobsters at all, I think. 'I heard about this gold, but too chickenshit to fetch it myself' should cut it, no?"

Fergie says "we could get a decker to post it on the trix, and then have them take a vacation somewhere. If we had a good decker. How about my ex? I hate my ex and he's sorta good… just not that at the level these guys are, likely. Hence, we really need someone better."

Mr.Terrific says "Everyone's gotta have the rumor, Fergie."

Mr.Terrific says "But I actually have a degree in designing memes and rumors."

Fergie nods some, "Put it up in the air with a plane and one of them banners."

Fergie oohs.

Mr.Terrific says "I can tailor it for 'trix, for gangers, for 'runners', for corp teams."

West sighs, "Again, if everyone gets the rumor, how do the targets not hear it?"

Mr.Terrific says "If they are actively contacting their contacts, they hear it. If they are closed up because they are working on their hit on the Don, they don't."

Mr.Terrific says "It's just the way of the world."

Dean says, "Nah, I think Fergie's right. We don't need /everyone/ to know, we just need a group or two who really want it, and can do some damage."

Mr.Terrific says "I like mob."

Mr.Terrific says "These guys roll twenty-man teams, or so say the dossiers."

Dean says "Well, they seem disinterested."

Fergie says "Mob is right, but we can hit more people on the matrix. Everyone in the shadow world is on there."

Mr.Terrific says "Fergie, I'm saying, matrix AND word of mouth."

Dean says, "So WHO /CAN/ we get?"

Mr.Terrific says "It's not a question who 'we' get. It's a question of who shows up. Remember, we were told to use lateral thinking."

Mr.Terrific says "This is lateral."

Dean says "Agreed. But you don't want this crew to hear about it, do you?"

Mr.Terrific says "I don't care. I think that even if they hear about it, they won't care. If they do fade, that's still good for us."

Fergie looks to Mister Terrific, "Yeah, and I've done the whole word of mouth thing and had a lot of backlash, so we gotta make sure we aren't 'it'."

West says, "Okay, let's talk this through. We put the word out. Everybody gets it. We still probably don't end up with a mob. Some wired-up assholes will decide to be in there two seconds after they've got the location. Some methodical guys will show up right before the deadline expires 'cause they planned everything out and did recon. Everyone else will show up in between. It's not like we can plan to have half of Denver's shadows at this one site in the PCC at 9AM tomorrow."

Mr.Terrific says "We hang out on the edges, and try to be opportunistic."

Mr.Terrific says "If we sense weakness, we strike with what we got."

Dean says "Sounds err… sound."

Dean says "Do we recon first, or skip that?"

"Opportunistic for what?" West asks. "We're making a huge assumption that a band of professional assassins will stick around for repeated attacks on their hideout over the course of the next two days."

Mr.Terrific says "I agree, they may get tired of it at some point."

Mr.Terrific says "Probably after someone actually hurts some of them."

Mr.Terrific says "Their wizard can heal, of course."

Mr.Terrific says "But if he goes down or out, things change."

Dean says "Would your bugman be interested in his mana or the like, Mr T?"

West asks, "Why go through the trouble? Why not just, you know, leave?"

Mr.Terrific says "I talked to the bugman once six months ago. I don't even know if he's alive."

Dean says "West has a point. That's why I say a select few are contacted. Not everybody and their dog."

Mr.Terrific says "He's a mantis spirit, so his wife might have eaten him by now."

Mr.Terrific says "I don't think we'll get enough with a select few. I don't think we'll get enough chaos."

Dean says, "So we need to air it with a few, select groups. Ancients, Saints, who else?" Ignoring the last comment.

Dean says "Maybe the bugman."

Mr.Terrific smiles and settles back, then.

Mr.Terrific says "Bugman won't want gold. I would pay him in magic."

Dean says "West? Mr T? Who can you tap?"

"It's time to make sure the site's actually where we think it is and not just a Stuffer Shack and this isn't some bizarre mindfuck," West announces.

Mr.Terrific says "Oh thank god."

Dean says "Lets do it."

Fergie nods, "Hey guys, did anyone ever imagine the self destruct option? What if they run, and they set something like that in the base?"

Dean says "Fergie?"

Fergie just kinda points that out and nods.

Mr.Terrific chalks up Fergie's fine point under 'yet more stuff we don't and can't know."

Dean says "Yeah, but can't be helped."

Fergie says "after bird watching, I'd like to go talk to some of the guards at the warehouse where we were hired. I just wondered, if they failed the hit before how that happened. And, if all the guards are in on all this and know anything… just to solidify all the legitness of everything, if we find anything."

Fergie says "or would that be wasting time?"

Fergie says "and what weakness kept them from win?"

Fergie stammers a bit, having held back her genetics far too long. She's loopin.

Mr.Terrific says "I wouldn't mind you asking that on the way out, Fergie."

"Fuck it," West announces, finishing his cigarette. "I'm coming with. Separate cars, though."

Mr.Terrific makes a mental note to himself - contact some smugglers and take them out to lunch and do crap for them.

Dean says "Well, if everybody's in. I couldn't hardly sit on my hands here, could I? I'm in."

West will offer anyone who wants one a ride, as long as they're aware he's smuggling guns. He will then proceed home, pick up his AK and a Savalette, slot them away in the concealed smuggler's compartment in his 3220, and head for the site.

Mr.Terrific will be going as legally as possible, with his camping gear and bird books and like that.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls 4 vs TN 6 for "This is just a test.":

1 3 3 5 = 0 Successes

West has plenty of time to reconsider actually trying any of this as he makes his way towards the PCC border station. "Y'know, this is stupid. None of it adds up, and even if it did? Doesn't make it any easy. We're not equipped for this fight. We're barely equipped to get across the border." He says all this to Dean, who is apparently riding with him. "I'm droppin' you back at Chrome and walking. I'll sit for two days if I have to."

Fergie will ride with Mister Terrific but not cross the border with him, but will be on the comm if needed. She says to her mage comrade, "You might want to drop me off somewhere, cause my SIN is prolly gonna bust if I try this, thinking about it and all. I can try to contact my fixer to see if they can get rest of us across somehow… maybe they got some people they know." She sighs.

Mr.Terrific asides. "What would be hilarious is if this whole thing was just to get us planning in a room so that the Don could get the benefit of disorganized minds."

Mr.Terrific goes acrost to go bird-watching!

Fergie smirks to Mister Terrific, "Think they thought we'd move the meeting?"

Fergie stays behind!

Mr.Terrific says "Eh, they likely bugged us no matter where we were."

Fergie frowns, not liking that idea too much. "How?" and then gets out a bug scanner and starts to scan herself! She totally uses the transduced comm!

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls 8 for "My bug scanner is fucking awesome.":

1 2 3 4 5 5 5 9

Mr.Terrific says "I go. In the middle of the night. With a rented car. And a real SIN. And no crimes on my record."

Mr.Terrific says "And all appropriate gear."

Dean lights another smoke. What the frag.

«Plot» Mirage says, "You detect nothing of note, cellphones and other stuff you expected, but that's it for transmitters and stuff."

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "I don't think we're bugged."

Mr.Terrific is turned back at the border then. "Sorry, sir. I just didn't know you had to apply four days ahead of time for a camping trip into your fine wilderness areas."

Mr.Terrific comes back. "Okay. I can't get across legally. Apparently you need to apply for a visa four days ahead of time. I was under the impression that the reason there was such a thing as a 'free trade zone' and a 'SIN' is so that people could cross borders under scrutiny like this. But I guess not.

Fergie sighs and then looks him up and down and asks, "Got phys mask spell?"

Mr.Terrific says "I do not. And they would see that. They have mages at the border."

Fergie ahs and nods, frowning. "Was thinking about jacking someone in the mouth and stealing their visa."

Mr.Terrific says "Okay. At this point we don't even have the tools to get to the steel mill."

Mr.Terrific says "If anything is there."

Fergie says "I think this has been a grave learning experience."

Fergie dials up her fixer now, "Hey, Daddy… you got any connections that can get some of us through the PCC borders and back out, eh?"

Fergie says "Preferably, without us dying. I got some money, how much? Round trip."

Fergie shivers at the last time she crossed the border in a wheat truck, ewwy.

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Etiquette (Street):

1 2 3 3 5 5

«Plot» Mirage says, "You fail to convince the Ancients it's a legit job."

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Etiquette for "Help!":

1 3 3 4 5 16

«Plot» Mirage says, "He says he might be able to slip you in, how many, and how much luggage?"

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "How many of us are goin?"

«Plot» Mirage says, "Luggage by 100 kilo lots, and number of people?"

Fergie waits to get her info from the others and that hopefully does not take too long here now. "3 of us. And 100kilo is fine. How much is that?"

«Plot» Armrha says, "220 lbs."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Make a negotiations roll."

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Negotiation:

1 2 3 3 4 10

Fergie is on the phone here and looking over at Terrific but letting him hear what she's doing with this guy and why. And everything.

Fergie has it on one way speaker phone! :P

Mr.Terrific is making the 'o-kay' sign with his fingers.

Dean mumbles into his phone in a corner somewhere some more.

«Plot» Mirage says, "He says make it 5,500 a body, and another 5,500 for the luggage. Got a deal?"

Mr.Terrific gives the 'thumbs up'.

Dean nods distractedly, still on the phone.

Fergie goes, "Deal. Thanks, omae. I appreciate your awesome."

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "Guys, I got us through each body at 5.5k and our luggage not to exceed 100kilos for 5.5k. So, that's 22k total!""

Commlink-Mr.Terrific> Mr.Terrific says, "How much you want from me?"

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "Don't worry about it yet, we'll figure that out later. I can at least cover that expense for now."

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Etiquette (Street):

2 3 3 4 5 9

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "You still going Deano?"

Commlink-Mr.Terrific> Mr.Terrific says, "Okay, deal. I am happy to cover my share and moreso."

Commlink-Dean> Dean says, "yeay"

Commlink-Mr.Terrific> Mr.Terrific says, "since I have been the big surveillance fellow all along."

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "west? (cause Alice wasn't near him.)"

Commlink-West> West says, "No."

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "Meet up at <locale infoz>."

Fergie keeps her armor on and makes sure she has her gun with her and her bag, and that's all she cares to bring with her. She will ride with Mister T, tho. :P

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "I got us paid for border crossing both ways."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Sam says he's a no go, not into mercenary work anymore and says you know it."

Commlink-Mr.Terrific> Mr.Terrific says, "I just want to frickin' see something with my own eyes."

Commlink-Fergie> Fergie says, "Let's get there!"

«Plot» Mirage says, "The truck will pick you up tomorrow at a warehouse in the FTZ, be there around noon."

«Plot» Mr.Terrific is there, yea verily.

Dean glides up on his humming Yamaha, parking in an underground lot nearby, 'tipping' the attendant and some toughs on the corner to keep it intact for a couple days. Walks up the block and grabs a taxi to the industrial sector. Spots a gaggle of people, ambles over with a courier's bag over one shoulder. Nice day for a ride.

Mr.Terrific has taken public transport to the meet.

«Plot» Mirage says, "So I see Dean posed going over to the smuggler meet, everyone else?"

Mr.Terrific arrives at the meet using public transport, with his gear, and like, a daypack.

Fergie is riding public trans with Mister Terrific then. She exits after Mister T.
Mr.Terrific , being a LIVING WEAPON, has kept himself to legality. He has camping gear, clothing, backpack, binoculars, goggles, and many things of general utility to someone going birding who might camp completely legally in a completely legal place.

Dean sets the overstuffed courier bag down on the 'crete, heavy with extra supplies. Most of the weight and bulk is from the armoured fatigues, doesn't use 'em too often, but they might come in handy. There's an assortment of electronics too, a slimmed down electronics security kit, even the nav-dat and some med-gear, just for those worst case scenarios. 'Looks like that's what this'll be anyway, 'worst case'. He quells the thought, damping down the jittering and twinging in the larger muscle groups of his back. Lights a smoke, grabs a water bottle from his bag on the ground. Where the frag is everybody? Let's get this shitshow on the road.

Fergie looks over her comrades, and then she looks to her gym bag for a brief moment. She has a bug scanner with her and some wire clippers and some old school lock picks. She asks Mister Terrific, "Since you don't have all the crap that we do, do you think we might not want to hang right up alongside of you just in case we have to deal with snoopy people?" Under her long coat, she has a cerberus pistol with gel/av loaded. Also in her gym bag, there are plasteel restraints, splitter cables, a few knowsofts. Various this and that, 10 more of AV and APDS ammo each. There's even some smoke grenades, only 4. C4 and detonators, and also microtronics kit. Likely, little stuff. Oh, and her comm is in her coat, hooked to her via her datajack port, transduced.

Mr.Terrific says "We'll see! That might be nice. I don't want us to get any closer than 3 klicks to the target area."

Mr.Terrific says "You should be able to see just fine from there."

Mr.Terrific says "I will have to go closer, but only magically."

Fergie nods just a little, "Aye, I should. And, please be careful of those who might be stealthed on your astral plane. I heard about spirits… and all." She seems genuinely worried for Mister Terrific, for some reason! :P

«Plot» Fergie also has everything on +equip.

«Plot» Fergie says, "Forearm Guards, Secure Clothing (Fashioned to the Desc), FFBA FULL SUIT, Mortimer Greatcoat Line."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Before too long, the Smugglers show up in a pair of refridgerated trucks. Pulling over, one hops out, introducing himself as Charlie, saying he's here for the Ferg, her crew, and a hundred kilos gear. After this welcoming, he shows you all to the back of the trucks."

Fergie waves to Charlie and says, "Hey, care if I jot down your info? Later, I might need to pay for some more of these services." She gives her best winning smile as she follows along and goes to the back of the trucks.

Mr.Terrific is only too happy to move along to where he's supposed to be.

"Great! We get to ride for a day in a mobile refrigerator?" Dean mumbles to himself, hoping it's worth the reduction in heat signature. Watching the other two interact just before their ride arrives, wondering where they know each other from. They must know each other. He takes a last, long drag on his cigarette, stamping it out. May have to go without for a day or two. Meh, wouldn't be the first time.

«STAFF» Mirage says, "I'll let you roll etiquette and negotiations if you want to slip them the pay for a contact."

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Etiquette + 4 (R2CTPs) for "Eti Check":

1 2 3 3 4 4 4 4 7 10

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Negotiation + 4 (R2CTPs) for "Nego Check":

1 1 2 2 3 3 3 4 11 13

«Auto-Judge[]» Mirage (#5721) rolls 5 vs TN 8:

1 2 5 7 7 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Mirage (#5721) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Kp 1":

1 3 3 5 13 = 1 Success

«STAFF» Mirage says, "They're all booked up for the next 3 days, but are willing to work with you afterwards, if you're willing to give them 10k in good faith."

«Plot» Mirage says, "In the back of the refridgeration truck is various biotech and medical supplies, all legal stuff, some noted as biohazardous. Charlie hits a wall behind some shelves with a loud "Bang" of sheet metal giving for a moment and flexing back into place, then does so another two times. After the third time the panel gives way, showing a hidden smuggling compartment. "Just climb through these shelves, and be extra careful around the grenades." he says, pointing towards the compartments with one hand and giving a flashlight to Fergie with the other. "One of you will need to ride in the other truck, along with the 100 kilo payload.""

Mr.Terrific opines aloud that there are enough illegal things there that it doesn't matter where he is, and so he chooses at random.

«Plot» Mirage says, "After you climb in the truck, noticing you're standing on cases of plastic explosives while trying not to bump cases of grenades, Charlie seals the panneling back up and starts the small convoy on their way to the PCC."

Fergie looks to the guys and then says, "Guys versus girls?" and then motions off to the other truck if it is even here. She looks to the others.

Mr.Terrific says, "If you'll be okay, then certainly."

Fergie nods and gives a wink. Her aura is not sure, but her bravado seems so.

Mr.Terrific plans to sleep during the drive, if possible.

"Show me how to open the door from the inside, in case of exigent circumstances, hombre?" Says Dean to the smuggler, raising his eyebrows at the 'biohazard', and redoubling his efforts at mention of grenades. "Might buy a handful of those grenades off ya at the drop off, if yer game omae." H e switches back to the others, "You guys can ride together if you want, I wanna place some calls before we approach the border. But I'm easy.?

«Plot» Mirage says, "This stuff ain't mine ta sell, scan?" Charlie replies, adding "And the pannels don't open from the inside.""

Dean says "Rightio then. Drive safe omae, see ya on the flipside.""

Mr.Terrific says "Just saying. If there's any way to call the guy who CAN sell them, we might be real interested. Especially if it's the good stuff, and by the good stuff, I mean, c-12.""

«Plot» Mirage says, "No can do, mang. Strict confidentiality. You know the biz." Charlie replies, snapping the pannels into place, sealing you inside."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Truck 1 contains Fergie and the gear, Truck 2 contains Dean and Mr.T"

Dean doesn't like this, doesn't like anything about it at all. Except fer that blond, heh. Mr Magic seems to know his shit, that don't hurt none either. Being trapped in a friggin box, no way to know what's goin' down, being hand delivered to the five horsemen of the apocalypse. Just. Fraggin. Peachy. Hope this guy wore deodorant. Frag me. He suppresses a sour look, "Soooo, you got a deck o' cards 'r sumthin' there Mr T? Mind if I call ya Mr T, or you prefer the whole shebang?"

Mr.Terrific smiles. "Mister T is fine. As it turns out I have a bunch of ways to kill time." He has paper and pencils, which he can use to play a variety of dot and line games, and the great thing about them is that they are silent and make no electronic signature if this box is scanned."

Dean sighs, just his luck. "Listen, friend. Before we get into that, if ya don't mind, I'd like t'do a couple things. First I'm gonna see if I /can/ make a call from in here, or if I gotta wait till we're out in the open. Second, I think we oughta see how to jigger this bastard open, 'case we need out in a hurry. With me?" He pinches the bridge of his nose at the thought of playing fraggin' x's and o's with this guy fro the next age and a half. Chummer probably calls it crosses and naughts, to boot.

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Willpower:

2 2 2 2 3 10

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Willpower vs TN 19 for "Play x's & o's for hours on end, smelling his own b.o.":

2 5 5 11 = 0 Successes

Fergie is stuck in a truck. Yes. She is locked in with the gear and no one else. Luckily, that is how she wants it to be. She lets out a few things that were repressed, some "Mother Fackles" but then goes quiet and jacks into her phone to listen to ICP and a few other songs by Alice Cooper that are old but that she has obtained through various ways. She finds it a bit hard to breathe for a moment, and she starts to tremble… to sweat… she does not really like this much. But, she deals without going into a break down. Yay!

Mr.Terrific manages, somehow, to be relentlessly cheery. How does he manage it? It's mood. It's meditation. He's centered. Must be a wizard thing. Or maybe he just knows himself. Maybe he wanted to be a sniper all his life and sit in a cramped spider hole for hours on end to make the perfect shot and this is as close as he's going to be.

«Plot» Mirage says, "After an hour of stop and go traffic and another thirty minutes of waiting, the trucks begin the inspection process. Thirty minutes of waiting while Native Americans talk about logs and undeclared items go by, but finally the trucks start moving again. Another hour later, the smugglers drop you off a few kilometers off from the Steel Mill."

Fergie is let out of the truck, and she basically grabs what she can and bails from the back. Likely, she probably drug everything they own out with her at once if it had a strap to a bag or package. She must be… strong.

"Well then, let's get to cover. Best to stay radio silent. Shall we play bird watcher or just hide in the hills here?" Dean says, grabbing his courier bag.

Mr.Terrific says "Bird-watcher AND hiding."

Fergie seems to be shaking for some reason, taking the trip harder than normal people. She lets Dean fetch his bag, fumbling with some straps that are hanging over her arms. She looks like she might lose her marbles, but is starting to finally chill as she gets breaths of the fresh rural air.

Mr.Terrific says "And so, as we play at our birding and look for something approaching wilderness, because we are distant (perhaps we are hunting rare voles) the ones with the awesome vision magnification are going to scope the place from so far away that it is totally rational that they can glance in a certain direction from time to time."

«Auto-Judge[]» Mirage (#5721) rolls 1 for "Odd it's in West's car.":


«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Intelligence:

1 2 2 3 4 4 7 13

«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) has the Cyberware Vision Magnification (optical) with the following information:

----> Cyberware Item for Dean (#9998) <----

Item Name: Vision Magnification (optical)

Rating: 3


Contained In: Cybereyes (Pair)

Essence: 0.16

Installed: Yes

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) has the Cyberware Cybereyes (Pair) with the following information:

----> Cyberware Item for Fergie (#10746) <-----

Item Name: Cybereyes (Pair)


Contains: Image Link

Range Finder


Low-Light Vision

Eye Light Systems

Flare Compensation

Vision Magnification (electronic)

Protective Covers

Cosmetic Modification (Eye)

Polychromatic Iris

Essence: .1

Installed: Yes

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Intelligence for "Vision Mag 3!":

1 2 3 4 4 4 5 10

«Auto-Judge[]» Fergie (#10746) rolls Intelligence for "Vision Mag 3! (KP1)":

1 1 4 4 4 5 7 9

Dean is standing around.

Mr.Terrific is hunting voles, examining soil, and taking notes! Maybe he's the scientist here.

«Plot» Mirage says, "Neither of you spot any activity. None at all, no lights, no vehicles, nothing. It's locked up pretty tight."

Dean offers Fergie one of his 6 pack, shrink wrapped bottles of water. Seeing she's in something of a state. He rummages for that bird book, looking at what's wiz in the locale.

Fergie takes the water shakily, thankfully. She probably ends up just hugging on Dean for a moment. Weird girl. Eventually, she let him go and then wandered around after him, taking a look at things here and there, and… down the canyon, doing so from afar.

«Plot» Mirage says, "The place is in fact warded."

"Well then, do we play 'lost tourist' and go a knockin' or camp out here or what?" Dean wonders aloud, not really expecting an answer.

Mr.Terrific says "We camp out here, and surrounding environs, for several hours, moving as needed.""

Mr.Terrific says "Eventually, I will bed me down to rest and go in for something closer and get killed. If my body spouts blood, give me medical attention."

Fergie nods to what Mister Terrific says, and she stays pretty quiet, for now, getting her mind straight. She drinks some of the water, too.

"You wanna go in MrT, scope out them wards?" Dean asks, raised eyebrows at the man volunteering. Well, suppose they all three volunteered somewhere along the line.

Mr.Terrific says "Oh, I won't be going inside the wards."

Dean says "I mean walk in closer, how 'close' do ya mean?"

Mr.Terrific , when he beds himself down, will go Astral, and separate from his body. he will go to the nearest road cross-off from this Steel Mill. He will peer at the street sign there, or the post there, as if, as is common for wizards, he is trying to figure out the emotional attachment there to figure out where the hell he is because there ARE NO STREET SIGNS IN THE ASTRAL.

"Hey guys! I just saw a Golden-backed Weaver!" Dean suddenly exclaims, putting down his cheapo binoculars and fumbling around with his bird book, flipping through it. "Think that's what it was… over there, by the big oak copse."

«Plot» Mirage says, "Mr.T spots a single watcher spirit for a moment, but then it disappears just as quickly. No other spirits are anywhere to be seen."

Fergie trembles and then looks toward where Dean indicates about the big oak copse. "What? Where?" she squints!

Dean sits in the grass, enjoying the texture of it between his fingers, breathing in the fresh air with a calm look on his face. It's the first time anyone here has seen him without stress lines under the eyes, and the occasional twitch below the left eyebrow seems to have subsided. Maybe he should get out into the country side more often. He sips from the water bottle, sprawled in a half-lying lounge on the ground.

Dean says "Over by the big trees there."

«Plot» Mr.Terrific says, "Force of?"

Dean points off to the left

«Plot» Mirage says, "You didn't have time enough to assense it before it disappeared."

Mr.Terrific , since there are such things as 'polarized wards' where you can look from the inside out, he Spell Defends himself and waves to where the Watcher was.

Mr.Terrific doesn't go down the road to the steel mill at all. That would be trespassing. But out here on the road, anyone could quite easily and legally be.

Talking in low tones, Dean says, "Well, if it's a box canyon, at least we've got a good chance of rigging the only exit with explosives. We'd still need an army to actually box them in, but blowing their vehicle or vehicles is a fine 'hello assholes', if ya ask me."

Mr.Terrific looks frustrated, like he was just asking direction, geez. And he fast-travels about five different places, making sure he's not being fast-travel-followed, before he returns to his body.

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