Stealing a car
GM: Cannonball
Players: Cannonball, Hood.
Synopsis: A little cakewalk where Cannon and Hood took a car for the man. Cannon mostly needing something to flex her muscles, while Hood needs the ride.
Date: Febuary 26th 2071
+Disclaimer

The guys at the CAS/UCAS border seem to be bored, another day of thousands of passing people and another bulldog is not really getting that much attention. After all there is a damn lot of border corssing transports of all kinds going to and fro. Cannon hands her SIN over and after Hood as well the check is done in a quick way. The officer nods to the twoo and waves them off without a second look. Cannon then drives some more until you end in one of the less respectable, but not really scary parts. There she parks her van and simply waits for something it seems.
The early morning traffic passes you not really taking any note of another delivery van.

Hood stays silent throughout the drive, his attention focused, near as can be told, on the passing sprawl; though his head moves little, there's a good chance those cybereyes are constantly roaming, making note of where they are, where they're going. He's new to the city, but, like anybody who wants to stay alive in his line of work, the first thing he did upon arriving was get the lay of the land. As the Bulldog comes to a stop, he casts a single sidelong glance at Cannonball, but seems content to wait for her signal; it's her show, and he's a patient son of a bitch when the situation calls for it. The silence hangs heavy, other than the occasional mechanical whirr of his window being rolled down, followed by the sound of spit hitting the pavement beyond. The guy's got more nicotine running through his veins than blood, it seems like.

Cannonball does not say much, not if the guy is not talking to her, but after about half an hour you can see a little americar pull up into one of the closeby garages. Cannons seems to have waited for that. She waits another half hour, then rises, still clad in her nondescipt, dirty coveralls (how she keeps her ride that clean while wearing so dirty stuff is a mystery) and leaing the van, little a small toolbox in her hands over to that garage to start opening the thing up. As if it was the most natural thing to pick a lock in plain daylight. Well, no one really seems to care.

+breaking some locks and short wiring the car

Hood slips out of the Bulldog a few moments after Cannonball's on the move, letting her gather her things and walk off towards her target before he, too, eventually climbs out. Rather than following after her, he simply walks on by, doing a pretty good impression of just some guy making his way down the sidewalk, not even bothering to glance at the elf as she does her work. Instead, he posts himself up maybe ten or twenty meters further down, finding a convenient lamp post to lean himself up against, a pocket secretary all of a sudden in his hand, thumb moving as though scrolling through information, though a close observation would reveal that his head's not tilted down quite far enough to be actually looking at the screen; instead, his eyes are roving up and down the street, looking for any signs of trouble, or anyone noticing the elf doing her thing.

The entire act of getting into the garage and into the car takes less than two minutes. The elf at first frowning a bit as the lock of the garage at first refuses to open. But then all goes as smooth that you'd say she does stuff as this every day of her life. Well, maybe she does. She simply enters the drivers seat after opening up the door and then drives the car out of the garage. Waving, she offers Hood to join her.

Hood purses his lips to spit more tobacco juice onto the sidewalk, and then stuffs his pocsec back into its - where else? - pocket, abandoning his position and ambling on over towards the idling Americar. As he reaches it, he clicks open the passenger door, sliding on in next to Cannonball, brows perking upwards a bit. "Leaving the Bulldog?" he queries, his attention still focused on the world outside rather than the elf next to him. As far as crimes go, car boosting is a pretty common one in Denver, but he's no less cautious about running into issues.

Cannonball grins and points to the jack still in her temple, "No worry about Bully. It's a very … clingy vehicle.", she says to the man. And truly as she enters the americar he can hear the van's engine roar to life. "I can't drive this thing remote, so I guess letting Bully follow us is the thing to do until we're out of the neighbourhood." So far all seems to go quite well.

Hood's head shakes ruefully. "You riggers. Always got some kinda trick up your sleeve." His concerns satisfied, he settles back into the passenger seat, though 'relaxes' would probably be going a bit too far; the twitching muscles still seem to plague him, though Hood himself gives no notice of the occasional tremble or twitch, as though entirely unaware of them.

Cannonball does notice them, though, then after a while of driving, she notes, "The last time I saw that kind of twitching I was working with a colleague who got himself a Move-by-wire system. Evil in matters of performace, but it's crazy as sideeffects go…", she says slightly concerned.

"Reflex trigger's a little quirky," is Hood's casual response, as though he were discussing the weather. Seems he's denying the prospect of having Move-By-Wire installed, though Wired Reflexes that weren't under the control of a reflex trigger would definitely account for the occasional twitch. "Thinkin' 'bout gettin' it yanked altogether. Move-By-Wire might've been the way to go." He shrugs, not seeming terribly regretful about it.

Cannonball shakes her head, "Just get it fixed. MbW is hell. Unless you get regular access to suppressants, you're mental toast in no time. And even then chances are the wrong wound will send you into shrink land… That guy I was talking about lasted for two years, then he broke apart mentally. Bad thing, that… He was a good guy." Makes one wonder where this girl had a chance to meet a guy with Move-by-Wire. She finally stops on a parking and moves over to her van. "From here, you drive…", she says.

Hood listens to the advice on 'ware without commentary, and rather than bothering to get out of the Americar, he waits until Cannonball's out before he simply lifts himself over the center console, sliding into the driver's seat. The seat's immediately adjusted back, until he's comfortable enough with the layout to not drive the thing into a building because his legs got jammed up under the steering wheel or something. Once he sees Cannonball installed in the Bulldog in the rear view, he gives it gas, and off he goes.

While Cannon moves over, you can see a few guys on bikes drive into the car parking. They dismount and slowly approach the elf. All of them are wearing gang colors, though it seems Cannon is not too much worried. You can see that slowly the turret pops out of the van as the guys approach her.

"Ah, shit," is muttered quietly by hood as he catches sight of the gangers, followed by a heavy sigh as the breaks are immediately hit. The door's popped open, slightly, not swung full out, but simply unlatched from the catch mechanism, so that a simple nudge will allow him to push it open rather than having to work the handle. His hips shift enough for him to draw the Predator III from the waistband holster, the slide racked back just far enough for him to do a quick brass check. Satisfied that he's got one in the chamber, the gun's held between his knees, eyes focused on the scene playing out just behind him in the rearview mirror.

Cannonball is approached by the guys with the words, "Hey, chica! This is our turf and we really do not like to have people scavenge in it! We want a bit of the cacke or you'll regret playing that trick on us!", they say. Cannonball just smiles to them and asks all too softly, "Oh? I'm sorry guys, what kind of … recompensation did you hav ein mind?", she asks, then the sound of her HMG's servo's is taking the attention of one of the guys. He looks over to the van and seeing the massive gun point his way, his eyes go wide. He stutters, "D-d-d-Don! L-l-l-lets move it!", he says as he points panicked over to the heavy artillery. The guy talked to at first seems disturbed by the reaction of his chummer, then as he casually glances over, he blanches. It's quite obvious the guys had not prepared for that kind of oposition. Cannon simply moves over to her van after that as the gangers simply run. The elf winks over to you as she enters the van. That top mounted gun already poping back in.

Hood's safety is clicked back on, and the gun once more slipped into its concealed carry holster inside his waistband. With a final check in the rearview mirror to make sure the gangers are good and truly on the run, he once more gives the Americar gas, rolling it smoothly back out into the street. Seems he knows where he's going, at least.

+Getting back to CAS

Passing the borders is the same cakewalk the entire action was. Cannon finally stops on in the Garage of the Mustang Ranch, smiling at you. "See, some credits saved, no bullets fired and all people are happy living their lifes.", she says with a grin. Then she at once starts to examine the freshly stolen ride, closely.
"Not a bad little trip," Hood admits as he steps out of the Americar. "Again, I really do appreciate it." He, too, takes a moment to stare at the vehicle, though certainly not with a mechanic's eye. "So. Plates, transponder library, smugglin' compartment. How long ya reckon it'll take, and what it'll end up runnin' me?"

Cannonball shrugs, "Depending on what rating you want for the Transponder lib … around 10K per Morphing plate and the lib, the compartment cost ya 1K per Cargo unit I have to install… You want what gun in there again?"
"If you want chemseal to prevent a silly dog sniffing up ammo in there that's 2K per rating. I can install that later, though…", she adds.

"Needin' it big enough to safely carry an assault rifle," Hood answers, as his hand descends into his jacket pocket once more to tug his pack of cigarettes free. "Tryin' not to go over, say, twenty-five kay with the whole thing, right now. Cash is a lil' tight, so, not wantin' to break the bank." That is, in fact, already well over what he has on hand, but he's counting on work to have the difference made up by the time the car's ready to go. "Whatever you can cram into that price range, hey, go nuts. More worried 'bout quality work on the smugglin' hole than anythin', not plannin' to use it as a getaway car or nothin'."
Cannonball nods, "Okie…", she then says. "I'll see what I can do.", she adds.

Hood nods in return, "'ppreciate it." A small little card is offered over, nothing on it but numbers in blocky black lettering. "That's my number. Can give me a call when everything's good to go."
page revision: 1, last edited: 27 Feb 2011 18:07
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