Successful Catastrophe

GM: Simone/Gretchen
Players: Vollo, Macro, Imaki, Reinhard, Simone/Gretchen
Synopsis: A group is assembled through various channels to handle an on-site datasteal (building plans) and level the (construction) site once they're through. Each of those two elements would be worth partial payment if that's all that was manageable, but the team went Rambo, slaughtered a team of guards, then accomplished both parts of the mission.
Date: 9/29/2075


« Simone to Imaki »
Something pings your icon as you surf the deep matrix — a popup alerts you that you have a message tagged with a signature you would recognize as being from the Wolf.

Shadow Dancer reads the message quite carefully. Generally such messages only contain 'It is there.' referencing the Johnson's unique set up for their meetings. However, if this message is any different each word will be analyzed almost surgically.

« Simone to Imaki »
The message is characteristically vague, simply indicating that 'you have mail' in the standard dropbox in the meatworld.

«Plot» Simone says, "So Imaki has enough info to pull Reinhard in with, vague as it may be. Feel free to round him up with a pose or two each as I see about bringing in one more player."

Imaki jacks out and while en route to the drop box, she shoots Jeremy Stiles, the shared Fixer contact she has with a certain German fellow, a text message via Transducer to implanted cybernetic telephone. Simply «Tell that German fellow Nubia has a job for him, meet her at the motel.» Once she has the envelope, she opens it up, reads the date and time for the meeting, which is pretty damn soon and she quickly burns the letter as per standard operating procedure on her way back to her motel. Hopefully by the time she's returned to Sal's the German will be waiting outside the coffin motel, her eyes a glacial ice-blue and hair a shiny platinum blonde now as she turns the corner to walk the last block up to the hotel.

Sure enough, a large Nissan SUV was parked outside the motel, a broad shouldered man in a lazily closed brown coat stood smoking a cigar, leaning against said car. When he sees the blonde Russian approach, he pushes off and walks up to her. "Hallo again, Freulein."

Outside Sal's, the city goes about its daily routine, cars drifting past in steady streams, but outnumbered by pedestrians by far. The evening is creeping in, and the streetlamps flash on just before sunset, bathing the sidewalks in their harsh fluorescent light.

Imaki offers Reinhard a charming smile, but continues on without breaking stride for the front door, "Da, come along Voktsohn, ve have a bit of sitting to do." Once inside she takes a left down a hallway, stops in front of one of the coffins and presses her thumb against the lock. It pops open with a slight hiss of steam from the auto-sterilization system and she steps inside. Realizing something, she pops her head out, "Vit… might ve a vit tight for ju in here… Can of course come in, vut… I vill need to lay across ju lap." She waits at the entrance to the coffin for the German to either pick a seat in the lobby or join her in the coffin. Her accent, as always, is dead on perfect Russian.

Reinhard followed the blonde woman inside the motel with long steps, looking around in a moment of paranoia, taking the chance to put out his cigar as well. With a pull in his coat, the German stepped inside and kept behind Imaki. When they arrived at the coffin, he paused to let her go in first and gave a confused expression when she asked him.

He leaned in past Imaki to look inside, "It vill do fine." With that he tried to step along inside the narrow space of the cheap room.

Once Reinhard is inside with his back to the 'bed' of the coffin, Imaki keys the door closed, and positions herself face-to-face with Reinhard. As the coffin slides into a horizontal position she winds up laying on top of him. She smirks for a moment but she's reaching across, sliding open the closet and flipping the lid of her satchel open. A sleek piece of hardware is pulled out, black and white in a stylized version of the yin and yang symbol. One card from the deck goes into the jack in the wall, another cord into her left wrist. "Da, it serves me quite vell." And then she simply slumps to unconsciousness on top of the German as her mind goes flashing into the Matrix.

The shadow being known as Shadow Dancer materalizes on the Denver RTG, then within a few moments she's found the club node DarkWolf designated as the meet up point on the Trix.

« Simone to Macro »
Il Bastardo comes a'calling (or trixmailing, rather), leaving you a link to a disposable trixmail account along with the passcode. He's assembling a team to run a Novatech subsidiary out of the Aztlan sector — they recently received special dispensation to construct a headquarters just off a rundown stretch of I-85… And Il Bastardo wants the building plans from the construction site computers. After that, he wants a message to be sent — Maximum collateral damage, perhaps disguised as a structural failure.

The cheap plastic of Macro's PDA casing creaks warningly under the squeezing stress as he glares at the message's origin, but then the big Ork makes himself breathe and consider. There'll be time to settle accounts later. Right now a job's a job. He fires up his comp and follows the address to the meet point.

Coffins are aptly named, being little more than boxes long enough to sleep in and tall enough for a large person to sit upright. Sharing the space is indeed a tight fit. Padding lines all six sides of the interior, with some minimal environmental controls on a panel next to a trid screen with a couple of small jackpoints, typically used for changing trid channels mentally or surfing the matrix in a limited capacity. Those in the know, however, can slip through the minimal motel firewalls and access the matrix at large.

Reinhard sighs and stays put in the coffin, trying to get comfortable with a limp woman on him. He would cramp a bit if he stayed inside too long. All he did was wait, filling her coffin up with his odor of cigar.

«Plot» Simone says, "Imaki, I left the letter contents unstated, but you have the info for the meet and the general directives of the mission — get the construction plans for a moderately sized office building in the process of being built in the Aztlan sector off the I-85 (the data isn't matrix accessible), then do what you can to utterly destroy the construction site, or at the very least, leave a message by setting back the progress of the project."

After about ten minutes the blonde stirs to consciousness atop the German, ice-blue eyes slowly opening and she stretches out against him, "More comfortable and vet not at the same time, than the coffin bed. Alright, let us go ven da?" She pulls the plugs out of the wall and her wrist, spooling them back into the deck, deck back into the satchel and satchel out of the closet. She closes the closet, reaches over and ques the coffin to slide upright with the open door button. Once she's on her feet she gives Reinhard a wink as she steps backwards out the now open door and slings the satchel's strap over her shoulder, "Time to see just vow good ju driving is."

Once in the car the Asian with the thick Ruskie accent directs the German driving the SUV to the meet location.

Macro leaves a coded message in the usual place for his gang, including the codeword for Bastardo so they'll know who to collect blood debt from if this turns out to be a screw job that gets him killed, then checks his equipment, gets on his bike and heads for the meeting place.

Reinhard gave a simple smirk at Imaki's comment and pulled out of the coffin after her, giving a quick roll of his shoulders to get straight in his back. With a nod, Reinhard went back to the car and drove along with Imaki. The car, by the way, has a blanket and pillow neatly folded on the backseats.

Along the way, Imaki takes an OMC out of her jean's pocket and plugs it into the SUV's media system. What ever Reinhard thinks it might have contained, J-Pop begins pouring out of his speakers, the blonde Asian swaying back and forth in her seat as they drive along towards the border, her singing in perfect Japanese along with the tunes.

Reinhard grimaced as the music began to pour out the speakers with quick rhythmic tunes sung in strange high pitched girl voices. He ignored it the best he could, not even familiar with what language it was in.

The streets are only moderately busy and the drive from Sal's toward the ad-screen illuminated skyscrapers and stepped pyramids of the Aztlan sector is relatively brief. The checkpoint comes into view, traffic splitting off into four lanes, each with their own guard shack and yellow and black barrier arm to restrict passage. As Reinhard pulls into place, a small cred reader on an articulated arm moves within reach on each side of the vehicle. An intercommed voice with a slight Spanish accent comes through the panel with the credstick slot, sounding bored. "SINs please. Do you have anything to declare? Firearms, restricted implants, foreign fruits and vegetables?"

As the checkpoint comes into view Imaki turns down the music until it is a faint drone in the background, "Speak vhat ever language ju know. I vill attempt to handle vis." Once they pull up the Asian rolls down her window, "Ves! Good evening, Nubia Haik, SIN (that long ass string). However, my driver is.. does not speak English at all no. So would be very nice if ju vould let him through vithout running his SIN as I am very late for appointment with vit my boss. It vould cost me my job if I do not arrive vithin next five minutes."

The guard in the shack on Reinhard's side is a Hispanic woman in her early forties in a uniform emblazoned with the Aztlan Border Security logo. Her hair is pulled back in a tight black ponytail and she grimaces, looking tired, but she simply repeats her request after looking over Imaki's SINfo without replying to the plea. "Sir, your information please."

Other vehicles pass without incident past the other checkpoint stalls, and a car in the line behind the runners honks.

The security guard takes a close look at the passengers of the SUV, eyebrows lowering as she taps her console screen in the guard booth.

The guardswoman lazily speaks over the intercom once more, stating, "Please shut off the engine." She looks at her screens, peers over her shoulders, then turns to exit her enclosed stall.

Reinhard blinked a few times and gave the security woman his best blank incomprehensible expression, "Sorry, I am not sure what you ask of me." The bulky German inquired in fluent German. He ignored the cars honking in the back, but had trouble hearing the woman through the noise.

The guard crosses in front of the SUV, passing through the glare of the headlights to approach Imaki on the passenger side. She leans slightly in to peer at the pair before speaking…

Imaki never lets the easy smile falter from her lips, but there is a slight eyeroll when the guard begins exiting the booth. She reaches over from the passenger seat and turns the key to shut off the engine while speaking in Russian, "She is going to be checking us now.", then switching to English, "I assure ju there is no need for dis, and if I am fired for having to be stopped i vill be filing a formal complaint."

The woman peers, then looks sidelong down at the line of backed up traffic. "A thousand 'yen." She looks over her shoulder toward the other guard booths.

Now the smile just gets bigger and without a further word the young Asian pulls a wallet out of her front jean's pocket, unfolds several hundred nuyen bills and holds them just underneath the rim of the window between her index and middle fingers on her right hand. When counted the guard will see a little bonus as well.

The guard accepts the cash in exchange for a "Rapido Pass" as she calls it, and returns to her booth where she raises the barrier arm with a button press. "Bienvenidos a Aztlan," she calls to the shadowrunners with no emotion in her voice, and as the SUV passes her booth, the credstick readers extend toward the next vehicle, then the barrier arm begins to drop once more.

Imaki visibly relaxes when the guard sends the arm up and nods to Reinhard, giving him the go ahead to start the SUV back up and head in. She rolls up her window and turns the music back up, sliding her finger along the track selection button and selecting a specific track, which again she begins to sing along with in her curiously fluent Japanese.

Macro flashes the guard a toothy grin as his SIN passes the check, tips an imaginary hat and drives off past the checkpoint and on the way to the meeting point.

The parking garage is a three-story affair situated by the river that passes through the Aztlan sector, surrounded by magically-aided jungle growth imported from Central and South America. Few vehicles have been left overnight, and the meeting place indicated to the runners is on the rooftop level.

Macro pours on the speed once he's past the checkpoint, keeping at just under the local limit. So far, so good, but he really wants to arrive at the meeting point early so he can check the surroundings.

On the street level, nothing stands out aside from the likely utterly foreign sounds of the transplanted jungle's night creatures — strange insects, reptiles, the squeak of bats perhaps…

Once past the checkpoint, Reinhard visibly relaxed in his driver's seat and rolled his neck as if he had grown sore from having to play ignorant. Never the less, he followed Imaki's instructions and drove to the tall parking garage. "I take those creds vill come off me, later?" he glanced at Imaki as he pulled into a booth to park the SUV, doing so with practiced ease.

Once the car was off, he pulled his seat back and stepped out the car, stretching his legs while he continues to follow Imaki's lead up to the rooftop.

The girl just smiled at Reinhard at his question as she sings along. During the song's chorus she runs her hands through her hair and shoots the German several suggestive looks and smirks as her hands run down along her face and neck, body swaying with the fast-beat of the song. As they are driving to the top floor of the structure a very slow sad sounding song begins playing, but is cut off halfway through when the car is shut off. Imaki retrieves her OMC and slides it into her pocket before getting out of Reinhard's car and looking around as she walks around the SUV to join the German.

The garage itself is minimally protected from access, with a few old, decrepit-looking cameras here and there which are probably just for show, but this garage serves the whole block, and allows 24 hour access, so passersby are of little consequence to anyone who may actually be monitoring the feeds. Ground floor and, mid-level have scattered vehicles, but there are no signs of life until the top is reached, at which point Imaki spies a small female figure leaning against the concrete structure that encloses the stairwell entrance. She has her back to the wall, and is buried in shadow, but a faint glint of reflection off of leather draws the Russian-speaking woman's eye.

Vollo stays hidden, checking comms and his gear hookup. He rolls his neck and bounces once on the balls of his feet, getting the feel for where all his weapons are slung and the weight of them. He transduces to Gretchen over the comm. "I'm feeling pretty much ready. You got any chocolate? I think my blood sugar is low. But I got some new bullets for this one if it gets hot."

On the garage roof, the everpresent ad screens (Aztechnology being the world's leading manufacturer of consumer goods) and the unmistakeable skyline of the Aztlan sector are clearly visible. The sky is fairly clear, and the peaks of the Rockies paint a jagged line across the view to the west, high above the Pueblo sector.

Simone rummages through a pocket…

Commlink-Gretchen> Simone sends, « I have plenty of candy… » The leather-clad figure speaks under her breath in a German accent just as an SUV pulls up to the top level of the garage. « …but no choc— »

Upon reaching the roof, the hefty and tall human took the opportunity to light the cigar he failed to finish off earlier at the motel, the characteristic metallic click of a zippo opening heard in the background. Reinhard was too distarcted with this to notice anyone else but Imaki on the roof, puffing on the tobacco to get it going, orange embers dimly basking his face in its light. With it on, he inhaled and sighed in relief, looking up at the sky above and tugged his coat closer to his body.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « These the others you brought in? What is on the menu? Am I playing heavy or just ghost? »

Noticing the figure in the shadows the blonde asian gives Reinhard's arm a light slap with the back of her hand and points the figure out as she adjusts the strap on her shoulder, "Over there big guy, come on." Her Russian accent thick again when she speaks, and without hesitation Imaki is walking across the blacktop at a casual pace, giving the figure in the shadows a brief nod as she approaches.

With her goggled eyes on the arrival of the SUV, Simone tries to blend into the shadow of the stairwell entrance as she replies to her comm, « I didn't arrange this. I just accepted the offer. This is a blind meet, but we all know the objective. » She ventures a glance to the east, where a few stories of building infrastructure have been erected — just a skeleton of a building in a raw pit of concrete surrounded by earthmovers and cranes parked overnight.

Simone, aka Gretchen, is at the corner of the building where she can get a view of the target site. She's dressed in leather from head to toe — a slim, matching jacket and leather leggings, low-heeled ankle boots, gloves and a white scarf mostly tucked into the collar of her coat. Her hair is dyed candy apple/fire engine red and cut into an angled bob, only an inch long in the back while the bangs hang below her chin, and her face is covered by a pair of goggles and a breather mask.

Macro's ears prick up — well, relative up as right now he's perpendicular to the ground — as he starts overhearing fragments of conversation when he's about three quarters of the way up. He tilts his head and changes course slightly to investigate.

Simone leaves the perceived safety of the shadows and approaches the newly-arrived duo…

Reinhard furrowed his thick grey-blonde brows as Imaki slapped him for attention. He looked down and in the direction the woman pointed towards, only noticing a silhouette in the dark for now. With smoke occasionally exhaling from his nostrils, Reinhard stops not far from Simone and looks her over, giving a brief calculating glance with his brown eyes. "Begrussung," he said as casual german greetings, along with a nod of his head and shifting of the cigar to the other edge of his mouth.

Imaki glances at Reinhard before giving Simone a good look over, nodding to herself for a moment as if accepting the woman's style. "Good evening. I vould assume ju are here for contract as vell?" The asian looks to the side and spies the construction site not far off, giving it a quick look over before returning her attention to Simone, "Ve are for ze job dealing no doubt vith dat site over der."

Behind her goggles and breather, Simone's expression is that of surprise, but outwardly she simply turns toward Reinhard and upnods. She keeps a fair distance from the others — two, three meters — but replies in kind, offering a greeting in German along the lines of, "Long way from home, aren't you, Alter?"

"Don't think anyone here calls this part of the city home," Macro offers as he drops out of the shadows. "Still, guess there's far an' there's /far/. Go in, grab building plans, level as much of the place as possible in a construction accident?"

Vollo pulls his ruthenium light bending hood back to reveal goggle covered eyes and balaclava pulled up like a stocking hat and not down over his face. The face behind the goggles is colored blue in the shadows. The full cloak parts revealing hands parting the fabric and pulling it to the sides, hooking it on the pommels of blades on either hip. There is a wire running from his collar to plug into the datajack behind his ear. His waist and thighs each sport quickdraw holsters. He makes the hand sign for greeting in a pleasant manner.

In general, Simone slouches, shoulders forward, and she assesses the pair of runners before beginning to reply to Imaki. "Mhmm. That's the place…" She turns to be able to look toward the building site in the distance while keeping the strangers in view. But then Macro's surprise entrance catches her offguard…

The German woman spins and whips out a pistol from the small of her back, but keeps it pointed downward, remarking, "Son of a shit," under her breath.

About to answer Simone's question, pulling his cigar out of his mouth between thumb and indexfinger, Reinhard closes his mouth as Macro speaks up instead, making the man turn to look in the ork's direction the same time Simone draws her pistol. With both his fuzzy eyebrows lifted in amusement, the 7'2" human grinned and placed his cigar back between his lips. "More join der party. So, vat else are vir looking at?" he asked Simone, walking over to the rooftop's edge to look at the site, right past Simone's aimed pistol with a straight back and calm steps.

Vollo looks at the blonde woman and smile showing bright teeth in comparison to his skin color. "Good to see you Nubia." He then turns to look at the mercenary, "I am Vollo. And you look to be the beef for this one." He doesn't hold out a hand to shake but he does bow slightly.

Imaki watches the interaction between Simone and Ork-boy wonder with mild amusement, then hearing a familar voice she turns and gives Vollo a bright smile, "Evenin'. Good see ju as vell. Things have settled down vith jur issues and dat john?"

Vollo keeps smiling, giving the woman a nod. "Truce for now." He glances at Simone and then the big guy and the ork. "At least won't cross over into this work."

The German woman's pistol stays pointed at the ground in a two-handed grip, not having risen to aim, but she delays a bit before reholstering until the sense of surprise dissipates. Her shoulders shudder in an uncontrolled shiver before she puts the weapon away with the rasping sound of friction against rigid holster leather. She moves to follow Reinhard to the edge. "Gretchen," she offers, not offering a hand, and keeping her distance still. In German she points out the foreman's trailer, half-visible behind other equipment, and traces the route of the guard she had been observing for a few minutes before anyone else arrived. The guard isn't visible at the moment.

Vollo watches the others move to take a look out over the edge, then walks toward the vehicles he brought. There is a Eurovan and a Land Rover parked side by side.

Imaki joins the pair at the railing and looks over the places being pointed out, however she doesn't know German, and thus that part of the description is lost on her. After a few moments she leaves the pair and heads back to Reinhard's SUV. She climbs in, and several minutes later comes back out in new clothing. Now she's donned up in a slick skin tight armored bodysuit, with her right hand gloved while the left is bare. Her blonde hair has been pulled up into a tight bun and on her feet a pair of simple black athletic runners.

As the Asian returns to Reinhard's side she pulls a pair of black sunglasses out of her satchel and after unfolding the arms slides them into postion on her nose.

Vollo transduces to Edgar and the back door of the Land Rover opens. He climbs in and sits at the wall of wires, screens and buttons. He flips on the White Noise Generator and then starts scanning for the closest signals besides their own. He will use both the vehicle sensors and the signal scanner.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Gretchen if you can have them switch to comm chan seventeen and can wire everyone through the mastertacc. »

Giving the occasional nod in response to Simone's explanations in German, Reinhard finished his cigar with a long draw from it before flicking the remains away, off the edge of the roof. "Reinhard," he replied before starting to question her back in German about the trailer's position and for any reliable path past the guard, and whether the foreman was inside. He did as Imaki, pulling out a pair of round 90's sunglasses with side-shields, fitting the on his wide visage and held a finger on the edge, apparently using them to zoom in on the site. "Vir must scout more. Zhere is never only one guard," he pointed out in english, in case Imaki could help them spot out anyone else on the site.

Vollo plays with his gear, listening to the close signals and trying to pick up on the patroling guard and possible guard house? He'll attempt to pull up a map of the site using his deck, just going off the basic city plans, routing through constructiom permit requests. The Allegiance Sigma has grape fizzy-coke spilled all over it and everything is sticky. He grumbles and says, "Edgar remind me to buy some alcohol wipes. And I need to stock up on zip ties. I think I only have two left. Get me a good pic of the blonde on the cam. Go for a front and a profile if you can get them. Oh hell get a back too I like the suit." He glances at the trid screen and waves his hand over the readout display to moves the map search to another screen. "Run the Merc's face through the database. Scar might be a tell. I remember a KE officer with a scar like that and I wanna make sure." His fingers dance and then he sighs just plugging in with the datajack splitter. "Oh and I need the file on Bellamy, but that is for later."

Imaki taps the side of her own glasses to bump up the zoom a bit and glances along the permiter with her thermo vision glasses, leaning her elbows onto the waist-high wall and leaning forward a bit as she takes her time to survey the place, "Not much security detail it seems like, vhich makes sense for simple construction site. Vould fink plans are in server else where though, not on site itself… though copy in dat trailer probably." She points out the trailer of the foreman, having missed the in depth explination of the layout since people were determined to speak German rather than English or Russian or any other language she does know. Looks like she'll be picking that language up as well now.

Vollo plays with dials and squints at nothing for a moment listening and trying to sift through the static.

Pulling the glasses off again, the overly muscular German gives a click of his tongue, "Light in der trailer, likely foreman." He started out as he took a step back from the edge, poked his glasses on top of his grey-striped, dirty blonde hair and looked around at the two women next to him. "Tvo other guards, second floor - Another on fifth. My guess is rifles, if dei intend to hit any trespassers from there. "See any othar, Nubia?" he asked his Russian companion, giving her a glance over, as he only just now realize she is in an entirely different suit, having to double-take to make sure his eyes did not deceive him.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « This is gonna take a bit Gretchen. But I think I can get the channel. »

Imaki taps the side of her glasses to shut off the thermo vision and maginification, but keeps the shades on for now as she gives the german bloke a nod. Still in her slightly provocative pose leaning forward while bent at the waist and resting her elbows on the waist-hall wall, the athletic asian girl begins booting up her communications gear within her cyebrnetic arm, using her image-link and transducer to manipulate the equipment without moving so much as a muscle or speaking a word.

The assembled team goes about their electronic surveillance amid minimal chatter while they all observe the target location to the extent that they can from here.

Vollo rolls down the window of the van, "I got a hit on channel 42.4, but it has mean decrypt. Also pulled up an old map on screen of the area, but it is pre construction. Just wondering if I can find the electrical main for the area. Blowing that up too would be nice. Oh and everybody comm up to chann seventeen. I'll get us wired through the mastertacc. Makes us harder to decrypt, when we start this up."

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Check check, »

The asian is half-way into scanning frequencies when Vollo pops his head out and declares the channel, so she abandons her search and instead mentally punches in the two seperate channels, one for the mastertacc system and the one coming from the construction site. Once those are set, she begins working at decrypting the broadcat coming from the site, again silently and without moving, though the mastertacc picks up her transducer.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « I hear you. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Nasty bugger indeed. Can't crack it. »

The asian sighs and finally stands up from her position, glancing at the Germans and then back at the van, "Ze second vhing ve should plan for is how to make a boom. Hey, ju pulled up plans, ju have way onto Matrix from vat thing?"

Vollo's voice calls out the window, "I have an extra comm for borrowing. Just like the team to be wired. lets us know when someone is in pain. And easier than shouting back and forth."

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Hey, ju pulled up plans, ju have way onto Matrix from vat thing? »

'Gretchen' takes a stab at eavesdropping on the security team as well, but she just gets scrambled white noise and admits defeat, settling for more observation from the garage roof.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Yeah I have a sat link. But if you come into the van you have to swear to secrecy. And I didn't clean up. I am gonna get into the Euro and sort gear. I have explosives." »

Imaki walks over to the back of the van and gives it three sharp knocks with her left hand's knuckles, the sound a bit more metallic than regular flesh hitting metal. "Let me in vhen, secrecy is name of game da? I can find services to building, maybe even block and knock down."

Reinhard looked relatively bored, occasionally glancing at the sky and the colorful city around him, letting the techies do their work as he joins Simone near the edge again, half squinting his already deep eyes to make out the size of the site from afar. "Work sites usually have butane tanks or fuel sources for their machines und torches. If vir can find any, it can do much damage," he casually pointed out, trying to do a more simplistic and non-machine calculated view of their options ahead.

Vollo climbs out of the back of the Land Rover and has a taccom in his hand looking around at Gretchen and then the large mercenary man. He walks over to the giant and says, "Hey this'll be a loaner. Good to be joined up." He passes the comm off and heads over to the back of the Eurovan, keying the security code in and then opening the doors by hand. It does not seem to be as high tech of a vehicle as the other. "I have thirty ounces of C-4 in three blocks and three radio detonators. Also if anyone gets shot I have a savior in here. All sorts of nanite packs too. I usually get shot so I keep stocked up. I don't usually carry it on the mission, so getting back here if bleeding is important."

Imaki crawls into the van and settles down after Vollo ejects himself out of it. She glances over the system for a moment, locates the uplink jack and pulls her deck out. Slot/Slot and then she runs her uplink program for the satellite. A moment later and she leans back against the van's interior wall. She gives her implants one final command to continue trying to decrypt the broadcast information before ZOOM the decker's mind goes flying up into space.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Oh Gretchen was this a lethal or non sorta gig. I know the J's have their preference. »

Commlink-Gretchen> Gretchen sends, « It's ah… open to interpretation… If they start shooting, I say shoot back… »

Vollo pulls the box with the explosives out, checking the little radio detonators and splitting them into three groups. He moves the box over to where the Gretchen and Reinhard are by the edge setting it down. He doesn't say anything, just pulls out a cigarette and lights it as he walks back toward the land rover. Over the transducer on the channel tied into the vehicle he says, «Edgar you be nice to that girl.» He passes by the land rover and goes into the back of the Eurovan again. He puts the carried fancy blades on their rack and takes down the working blades, fastening the straps of the scabbards to his waist. They are a mismatched pair of katana, one longer than the other for some reason. He seems satisfied and shuts the van door, locking it with the key code.

Looking Vollo over as he had not actually seen the guy up close yet, Reinhard's eyes were both curious and skeptical at the same when the guy walked up. The German guy accepted the comm device and looked it over in his hands, about to thank Vollo but noticed the guy was already going back to his van by then. Instead, he tried to figure out how to put the comm on and experiment with how this model happens to work in compare to the old model he is more accustomed to. It takes him a full ten minutes before he finally gets through to the channel.

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « Prufung.. Prufung.. Is it korrekt? »

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « You got it. »

[ On the outskirts of the Skylink RTG… ]
Imaki's icon floats in a stylized system modeled after, what else?, an Earth-orbiting network of satellites and space stations, with many hubs linking to different points on the image of the planet's surface. North America lies directly below, and bustling transports shuttle data to and fro, planetside to the satellite network in steady streams.

The icon appears at first as just a roiling cloud of shadows, before it resolves into the siloutte of a woman, with pinpoints of light for the eyes and mouth. Without heistation upon the RTG the Persona waves its hands and pulls up a lists of satellite radio stations and begins cataloguing through them, searching for a decent j-pop station the RTG has access too. Once she's locked one in and has that piping through her deck and blaring around her in the Trix, the shadow-girl cracks her knuckles and then begins tapping invisible holographic commands into the air before her to access the Denver LTG.

Reinhard had started pacing a bit along the rooftop, enjoying the atmosphere in his own little Noire imaginations. He was going through their gathered information and tried to set it up in his own head like a play infront of his eyes. He finally came to a stop at the edge again, looking over the site, speaking into his comm.

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « I vote one half of our party plant explosives vhile the others handle der foreman in the trailer. Ve cannot sneak around in a party of five aftar all, unless some of us stays back here to support? »

Vollo moves up next to Gretchen and Reinhard and takes a gander at the target below with elven eyes. He takes another drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out into the night. He tilts his head a little and looks at Reinhard and then at Gretchen.

Imaki's icon travels down the digital gravity well, the Earth rising up from below at incredible speed, until the architecture shifts to that of the Aztlan sector LTG — heavily themed in Hispanic cultural iconography, featuring the powerful yet primitive symbology of Aztechnology, the corp and country being nearly inseparable from one another.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Couldn't crack the decrypt on the guards. Shouldn't be bad if they are just rental meat. If they are corper guards or mercs they could be an issue. No problem on the split. I am better up close and personal when it comes to dealing with guards. »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Likewise. What's the plan. Lethal or non-lethal? »

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Looks like choice is up to us. They didn't say. I'm loaded for either. »

Commlink-Gretchen> Gretchen sends, « Fuck it. » The German girl doesn't necessarily seem pleased with lethality per se, but she withdraws her pistol once more and swaps clips decisively. « Whoever hired out for this wanted to prove a point it sounds like. »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « I have no silencer, but I can try getting to der foreman's trailer. »

Commlink-Shadow Dancer> Imaki sends, « There's a slight hiss that enters the comms system, which is replaced by the quick-beat techno music and slightly highpitched japanese voices of 2075 j-pop at it's finest. "You beneveloent overlord has arrived meat suits. Alright, I have a couple options here. My main ideas are either blackout the site, or cause blackouts across other parts of the sector to draw AZ heat away from here. »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « I vould say across der sector, if vir intend to go blow this up, so ve can escape aftar. »

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « But we do need to get the hard drive out intact. »

Aztlan Armed Forces serve as general police for the sector. From the observations made by the team, the AAF are not guarding the construction site — different uniforms — the on-site security is probably an independent group contracted specifically for the job.

Vollo peers down into the construction yard, then looks at the others. "I'm ready. I say we go down and get our feet wet."

Gretchen fetches her bag from the van Imaki is in, slings it over one shoulder across her chest and pulls her scarf from her neck to cover her head, then slips a thin black hood from the collar of her jacket as well and pulls that over the white fabric of the scarf, cinching it tight with a little tab at her throat. "Ready when you are…"

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « Hmm. I could perhaps take der harddrive out, if I can get to der trailer. Vho vill handle explosives? »

Commlink-Shadow Dancer> Imaki sends, « Don't go leaving without me meatsuits, I'm coming along, I just need to blow these transformers then I'm jacking out. »

Reinhard lifts his coat's folded collar up to high to cover his face past his nose and then flicks his sunglasses back down, making for a reasonable masking, still able to talk in his comm inside the high collar.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Gotcha Shadow Dancer, blow em. »

«Plot» Gretchen says, "You're amazingly lucky Imaki. Incredibly, amazingly lucky. You locate a cluster of AZ sector-operated power transformers in a location across the sector near the old Denver City Hall."

Deep within the bowels of the AZ LTG a shifty little shadow is running search after search, a thousand little windows popping up with IP addresses trying to find a host that… BING, electrical systems. A off-shoot host for a specific cluster, but hell yes! She makes her snappy quirk over the commcall about the meatsuits leaving not leaving her behind before she starts the delicate process of ramming her programming down the host's throat until it screams for mercy and lets her in.

Figuring they are about to begin the run without much tactical discussion, to his dismay, Reinhard steps up to the van with Imaki inside and waits for her. While doing so, he looked towards the site the others were looking at, gesturing for them to go ahead of them.

Commlink-Shadow Dancer> Imaki sends, « Where once was light, I hath created darkness." chirps in the creepy voice off-set by the happy-toned j-pop constantly going in the background. »

The only visible effect of Imaki's remarkable hacking from the team's point of view is a single residential tower winking out in the distance, through the clusters of highrises, disappearing from sight where it had once stood glowing with tiny specks of light from its windows and decorative rooftop lighting for air-taxi flight safety.

Vollo starts loading the C-4 and little radios into a rucksack as he watches the others. "I can coordinate the group when we get down close, in accordance with where the target guards are. I know a little small unit tactics. I play a little chess." He takes a peek over the edge to the area below. "Looks like plenty of cover to work with. I am going to be pretty unseen unless it gets hot."

[ Currently, in the matrix… ]
A squad of stylized AAF soldiers in black milspec with red piping across the armor plates appears near Imaki's position in the LTG, with leopard skins draped over their shoulders. One of the icons wears the skull of a leopard sans its bottom jaw over the top of his black face-plated helmet, and they all take aim, firing in unison.

[ Desced as multiple, but is effectively only one instance of IC ]

Unfortunately for Imaki, Azzie security squads in the matrix are just as effective as those in the real world — their reputation is well-deserved. The decker is harshly wrenched offline by the intrusion countermeasures. Luckily the damage was to the icon, not the meatbody, but dumpshock sets in from the abrupt disruption of the signal.

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « So, vas is our plan? Gretchen, Ork und Elf sets up explosives, Nubia comes vit me for foreman? »

And our valiant shadow-girl gets dumped right off the 'Trix and into her meat suit. The background j-pop on the communits dies out in a split second as Imaki's physical form takes in a harsh breath and rips the datacord from her jack instinctivly as her eyes fly open. She takes several moments breathing as she deals with the backfeed from the Killer IC, but she made it out mostly unscathed thanks to her deck's design and her own resilience.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Well that didn't work out as expected… I'm going to chill in here catching my breath until we're ready to roll out. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Good news is, I should have successfully distracted security forces to the otherside of the sector. »

Commlink-Gretchen> Gretchen sends, « …it looks like power just went out across the sector… Did you do that? »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « That I did, that I did. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Now to be honest I didn't have time to calculate the exact wattage of the transformers I hit but if we consider the standard 12,000 used by most transformers… »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « We're looking at an eight block power outage that should keep the local AAF off our asses for a good hour or two. »

Gretchen is still adjusting the single strap of her bag as she looks with some astonishment over the city toward the darkened highrise. "I guess we should get down on de ground then." She exhales sharply in the way people do when preparing to face a challenge with their adrenaline running at full steam.

Imaki slowly gets to her feet after about five minutes of 'rest' and pushes her way out of the Land Rover. Her face looks a bit pinched but she doesn't seem the worse for wear as she strides over to the Germans and the Ork, "Shall we go raise some hell?"

Commlink-Sticks> "On the other hand, after a couple hours they /will/ come looking… Right, let's dance."

The blonde asian pulls an OMC out of her jean's pocket and slides it into the chipjack in her wrist, her face lightening up a bit as her personal selection of j-pop tracks begins beating a comforting rythm inside her skull to counteract the painful migraine pulsing through her brain. She pats the Reinhard on the shoulder, "Ju ready big boy?"

Reinhard rolled his shoulders, still not gotten a reply to his question regarding approach of the site, but assumed they decided on winging it. He was still standing by the van, having come to lean against it instead, as it had taken a while. When the russian got out of the vehicle, he pushed off and walked along towards the ramp down to the lower levels of the garage.

The group discusses their approach as they make their way down through the parking structure on foot, and Gretchen makes it a point to double and triple check her bag and pockets, slipping gloved hands around to ensure her gear is all where she intends for it to be.

Commlink-Gretchen> Gretchen sends, « V, you vith us? » Vollo is stealthed once again, silently keeping pace with the group until he comes over the comm in response, « I'm on the street. Gonna scout ahead. I'll let you know what I see. » His signal goes quiet and Simone acknowledges him with a simple, « Gut. »

Imaki turns her head slowly back and forth as they make it out of the structure and start heading towards the construction site not much further away now. Suddenly she grins very widely, "I 'ave an idea. Rein, vill you slap me hard? I vill rub some dirt on my face, and vhen adopt a limp and valk over to dah entrance guards. Vill get dher attention, play damsel in distress da?"

Commlink-Sticks> "Scoutin' sounds good," Macro transmits. "You go around left, I'll go around right, meet back up here in fifteen?"

Macro looks at Imaki, then tilts his head. "Could work, but what if they buy inta yer story far enough they decide ta check ya over for serious injuries while callin' the cops ta take yer statement an' get a description of the guy who worked ya over?"

Vollo sends confirmation to the group and ventures off to the west down the street that borders the construction site, just a faint shimmer in the night. He darts from cover to cover, keeping behind street-side vehicles, and slipping between doorway alcoves to alleys, remaining for all intents and purposes, utterly unseen.

A grunt could be heard from behind Reinhard's raised collar at their conversation, following along the party from one building to another, making sure to stay in the shadows when they got closer to the site, tapping his sunglasses to activate their thermo. "Or we could climb the fence, avoid suspicion und confrontation, aha?" he suggested as a more old school option.

Macro takes a moment to grin in appreciation, then unrolls the balaclava over his head before taking off as well, circling in the other direction.

Simone looks to the decision-makers, snugging her gloves by tugging at the wrists. The pair is mismatched, the left being supple black leather while the other is thicker and features white piping down the fingers and across the knuckles and a small manufacturer's logo at the wrist, just hidden by the cuff of her biker jacket. She whispers aloud as she pulls what appear to be a pair of slim pliers that are quite small from her jacket. « Over or through… » She snaps the tools open and shut to reveal the thick blades of a pair of wire cutters.

Imaki pouts a little but shrugs her shoulders, falling silent now as her idea is dismissed. She simply darts forward a little bit from the others for now, slipping into the shadows as she draws closer to the chain link fence. She flips open her satchel and pulls out her shades, sliding them on and turning on her thermo vision as well.

As the group makes their way down the street trying to remain unseen, a pair of vehicles (a compact Tzarina and a Westwind) pass each other as well as the runners, heading opposite directions to disappear in the distance.

"Get us through the fence, dat vay wir have a quick escape too," said Reinhard to the others, his voice naturally louder than most. For his misfortune, that and his sheer size made him a bit less stealthy than the others.

Imaki squats down in the shade of a parked vehicle and slowly scans along the vehicles and dirt mounts out front of the site, spotting one guard and nodding to herself. Still in a slight crouch she moves forward, about a dozen meters, and slides back into the shadows of another parked car while she activates her transducer.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « I see one headed away from the fence among the vehicles inside the compound. »

Macro fades into the shadows, flitting from one bit of cover to another as he takes in the perimeter and the guard patrols.

The guard that Imaki warns the team of continues on his way, disappearing behind a large tractor, then becomes visible for a few moments as he starts heading north past the building. He becomes obscured by the base of the office structure's ground level (the only one with walls at this point — the second and third are open).

Gretchen veers to the right, heading north toward the section of the fence closest to the crane, wire cutters still in hand but tucked up her sleeve. « I'm going to try cutting through on the east side of the fence. Let me know if you spot anything. » She still has some distance to go, and cuts through a parking lot with a number of vehicles and decorative potted shrubs to conceal her movement.

Reinhard tried to follow Imaki's movement, but made sure to actually go prone to better hide once he reached the dirt mound. He watched the russian woman more than he did his surroundings, simply trying to keep up with her, hoping her path was superior to one he might have picked himself.

Vollo chimes in over comms with, « I've got one on the roof, one on the mid-level, and looks like two patrolling on the ground, both circling clockwise… » He cuts out, resuming radio silence.

Imaki waves at the German and cuts a path similar to Simone's, though even further north on a shallower angle, heading towards the port-a-potties. She hunkers down about twenty meters from the fence, glancing around as she stays low, using the night to her advantage, seeming in her element when darkness is present. She turns her head this way and that, spotting her team and then taking another scan over the ground level of the construction site, then she starts looking upwards floor by floor.

Commlink-Sticks> "Copy the one on the roof," Macro replies. "Looks loaded fer bear but can probably take 'im…"

Reinhard came on over to Imaki and went prone when arriving to her side, looking towards the foreman's trailer through the fence, trying to figure out what way its door faces in contrast to the construction building. He stayed put until the rest of the team had checked.

There is light in the nearer windows of the foreman's trailer, but not the farther one. A safe assumption might be that the trailer has two rooms — one is dark.

Commlink-Gretchen> Gretchen sends, « V, let us know if you spot anything. » Vollo replies confirmation before Gretchen continues. « I'm moving up… »

Commlink-Sticks> "Four guards sounds a bit light, tho," Macro comments. "Tech-girl, ya got any comms signals from them fer us?"

No alarms have been raised so far, so Gretchen decides to make her move. She hunkers down and begins to crouch-walk ever so slowly across the remaining distance — a stretch of scrub plants and overgrown weeds native to the area. With great care she tries to keep any plants between herself and the building.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Doesn't work like that. There's one frequency they are sharing it appears, beyond that it's not like their radios give off satnav locations, and even if they did my rig doesn't pick that kind of stuff up. »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard would approach the fence with Imaki, making sure to keep an eye on the surroundings near the portable toiletbooths and trailer, « Let us commence. »

The blonde asian squat-runs across the scrubbrush infested land and then up to the fence. A quick left-right scan, then up she starts climbing on the chainlinks, trying to move fast enough to not get caught in the open, but slow enough to not make much noise in the process. It only takes here about ten seconds to get to the top and then she drops to the ground in a crouch on the other side, getting her bearings and scanning for anyone that might have noticed.

Reinhard tried to follow suit with the fence-rider, trying to spread his weight out across the fence to keep it from just straight up bending over to his weight, thankfully able to pull himself up with all that lovely muscle!

Macro times his moment and crosses the distance more quietly than anything that fast has any right to be, skittering over it in a blur and vanishing into the shadows of the construction site proper, and circling out of the field of view of the armed guy.

The pair of portable toilets inside the fence are a joined unit, commonly rented out for music festivals, construction projects and any number of other situations where they may be large crowds or a lack of plumbing. There is a narrow door for smaller races and a significantly larger door into the second stall for the orks and trolls. This door swings wide and two guards can be seen, one sweeping his head from side to side rapidly while the other appears to be lifting something to his nose and snorting (just taking a little novacoke break, no big deal). The door-opener exclaims as he tries to spot what might be making the fence shake, "The fuck? Que es eso?!"

Gretchen has reached her chosen fence section and is just about to start quietly snipping when this all goes down. The guard still in the bathroom starts rapidly pocketing his little baggie of coke but the one who stepped out reaches for his slung weapon, beginning to raise it in Imaki's direction.

Macro doesn't need to speak Mexican to understand when someone's saying "Hey, who's there!?" He swallows a curse and veers toward the guard, drawing his staff as he breaks into an eerily silent sprint.

The paranoid guard turns to face Macro with eyes wide like a deer in the headlights with a white ring dusting his right nostril. He seems totally unaware of what's happening, except for the fact that there is an insanely fast figure charging straight for him.

Vollo leaps up and over the fence, moving ruthed. He looks like a ripple the air as he moves, footfalls lightly crunching on gravel as he heads toward the port-a-pots. His eyes flit to Macro and his endeavors as he kicks his reflex trigger slowing the world down around him. He is hyper aware in this state, one hand gripping the hilt of a blade beneath his full bodied cloak, the other holding a pistol down low by his right thigh. He halts at the side of the door to the port-a-pots and quietly draws his blade.

Macro crosses the final distance in a blur, lashing out with a combination that's as brutally fast as it's almost entirely noiseless. A few thwacking noises are all that's heard before the guard crumples to the ground.

As Vollo and Macro close in with deadly speed and stealth, Gretchen busies herself with her original plan of clipping her way through the fence. Thin bands of steel wire snap softly as she closes the scissoring blades of the cutters on them, one after another.

After hearing the guard voice speak up, just as he was about to rush out at the two guards, he only managed to react to one actually going down in a brutal instant. So he tried to change course to the remaining one.

Gretchen sticks with her initial idea and busies herself with clipping the thin steel cables of the fence, just cutting in a vertical line to provide enough of an opening to slip through by pushing against both sides.

Assuming that three beats two, Imaki leaves the boys to their toys and starts heading for her own. Since she's in open ground shadows are a bit harder to come by so she just works herself slow and steady acros the consutrction site towards the foreman's trailer, keeping an eye out on the windows to see any change in the lights.

When the first guard slumps to the ground under Macro's deadly flurry of staff blows, the second reacts on pure coke-fueled instinct, raising his own weapon as he swears in Spanish…

The guard in the bathroom just makes a guttural yell, his face contorting in an exaggerated, open-mouthed grimace as he opens fire toward the charging German hulk and the darkness beyond.

Well, that's stealth well and truly dispensed with, and a lot of incoming fire through the door, possibly more than Macro could handle if he were to charge into it. Fortunately, he's standing right over a handy shield that's in no condition to complain about his lot in life…

Macro lifts the unconscious guard up into the air and flings him toward the yelling gunner with a challenging roar of his own:

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

The standing guard's rounds chew into the thrown body's armor until they collide, bringing a stop to the automatic fire but the guard's coked out battle cry still reverberates from the plastic-walled bathroom stall as the first guard's body slumps to the pissy floor.

Vollo moves like a ripple in the air, staying low and keeping straight on course going closer to the building with the guards. His breathing is steady and even. He calculates possibilities for action.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Going in and up. Will deal with targets there. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « I'm headed for the trailer, keep an eye out for a server while you're in there in case it's not in here. »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Copy. Two more on the ground, heading clockwise for the nearest. »

Vollo disappears into the darkness, slipping south down the edge of the ground floor of the partially-constructed office building, knife in hand. Once he turns the corner to head along the south face of the structure, he keeps a close eye out on potential guard positions, and comms in quietly with, « Guard on the second floor nearing the edge, coming your way. Stay behind cover… »

Macro clicks his comm once to acknowledge, then takes a quick sprint from the restroom area to a cover position behind the crane, readying his rifle for a snap shot at whichever of the two guards walks into his field of fire first.

Reinhard tried to his best effort and strength to pull the weapon from the guard in the toilet, but the fellow simply had enough leverage from being seated and equipped with a strap. So they ended up groaning and swearing at each other like children over a toy, pulling it to and fro each other.

The gunfire compels Simone to drop to the ground once she passes through the fence, but after the ork tosses the first guard into the bathroom, she breaks into a crouching sprint toward the base of the crane, drawing a bulky pistol from the small of her back and flipping down the arm of a folding stock that lies across the top of it.

One of the ground level guards peeks around the corner of the building and sights in on Simone as she charges from the fence toward Macro's position at the crane's tank-style treads. He comms to his team as he gauges her speed, then lets out a rapid burst of shots that send her slamming into the dirt. Her voice is heard on the network a moment after the shots ring out. « FUCK. I'm hit, but not bleeding. I'm still moving. » She continues to crawl now, trying to get to cover.

The guard in the stall with Reinhard tries his damnedest to free his weapon from the huge man's grasp, swearing in rapid-fire Spanish the whole time to alert his teammates. When the giant simply won't let go, the smaller Hispanic man just squeezes the trigger. Two bursts of gunfire in an enclosed space are deafening, and the wrestling over the weapon ends up with the German taking a few small caliber rounds to his forearm, thankfully mitigated by the fabric of his long coat for the most part.

After having taken a bullet to the side, which was stopped by the skint ight black boydsuit, Imaki takes a quick glance around and then continues her plotted path, finding some cover in the shadows of the portable restrooms before stalking towards the trailer and presing herself up against the side of it. A quick message sent over her transducer before she begins stepping along the siding towards the north, looking for the door.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « There's one on the corner of the main building to the north, still looking for the entrance into the trailer. »

Gretchen is breathing heavily into her mask which the comms pick up faintly before she replies to Nubia with confirmation. Vollo reports back with a whispered, « I read you… »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Guy in the building headed down the stairs, what yourself Fuzzer. Anyone with a gun, there's someone peeking on the rooftop. Be careful boys and girls. »

Vollo reaches the front entrance of the building in the center of the south wall and makes one more transmission to the team. « I'm going in… »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Heading for the roof, gimme some covering fire! »

With that message, Macro bursts out from behind his cover and sprints for the wall — and then turns 90 degrees and sprints directly *up* the wall without so much as slowing down.

You paged Macro with 'You hear: the thump of boots rounding the northwest corner of the building (on the ground), moving north, then starting to move east. You hear the scuffle in the bathroom. You hear Simone groan (though that's over the comms). You hear a guard inside the ground floor of the building call out, presumably on his own comm, "Estoy aqui!"'.

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Movement in the trailer, watch it. Will overwatch once I take care of the roof. »

Vollo steadily creeps through the half-completed halls of the ground floor, cloaked and silent. He nears his prey, but isn't close enough to deliver a deadly knife to the throat just yet…

Macro blurs up the side of the wall, putting just enough zig and zag in his run to be a harder target to anyone who tries to shoot him.

Macro will also use the second floor landing as cover briefly to 'recharge' the wall running.

Vollo ruthlessly steps up to a guard who had been just about to flip a switch on a large electrical box, and his stealth cloak parts to expose the glint of a wickedly sharp blade. One gloved hand reaches to cover the guard's mouth while the other guides the knife through the man's throat like a hot knife through butter. He snaps the guard's neck for good measure, then lowers the body to the floor, spurting twin streams of lifeblood from severed arteries. The poor guy never even knew what was coming. Maybe that's for the best.

"Rrrraaghhhh..!" The guard squeezes the trigger madly while wrestling with the German giant over his weapon while they struggle inside the bathroom stall with the body of the other guard lying at their feet. A number of the bullets strike Reinhard, but just as many fly wildly, making loud popping sounds as they pierce the plastic walls and ceiling of the portable bathroom. The constant gunfire is absolutely deafening at such close range, but Reinhard can see the Aztlaner rent-a-guard constantly yelling through the shots.

The guard on the roof speaks into his own hands-free comm, remarking in surprise as he looks out over the construction site turned battlefield. He catches a glimpse of the ork scaling the support beams of the building and sights in… He fires a volley down toward the adept, thunking a few small caliber rounds against armor in a feeble attempt to dissuade Macro from reaching his position.

Macro is a surprisingly difficult target, and the few bullets that manage to connect don't seem to hit anything important as he comes barreling upward.

Simone finally reaches the crane, tucking up against the caterpillar treads with the folding stock of her machine pistol jammed into her armpit. The gunfire from the bathrooms ensures that she keeps her head down, and the burst from the rooftop keeps her from peeking out that direction as well. She resorts to her comm for the time being, unable to provide much assistance otherwise. She speaks in German, her call obviously intended for Reinhard, « Get the fuck out of there! »

The ground-level guard takes the rooftop guard's warnings under advisement — He unloads on the ork as well. With a firm grip on his weapon he leans out and does his damnedest to put up an impassable wall of lead, but they may as well be just a slew of ping pong balls for all the good they do in preventing Macro from continuing his climb.

After peeking around the corner the blonde asian mutters a soft curseword under her breathe. Lights shining on the front of the trailer, ah well. Thankfully it seems the guard on the grounds is busy shooting into the air at the gravity defying ork, so Imaki rounds one corner, then the next, as stealthy as she can. While moving her left hand comes up and she tugs the zipper on the front of her body armor down to her navel as she approaches the staircase leading to the trailer's entrance with her back pressed against the metallic siding.

Vollo steps quickly from the guard at the electrical box as the man's lifeblood pools on the unfinished concrete of the building foundation in a rapidly spreading puddle that emanates a glow of warmth in the elf's thermo goggles. He continues to navigate the maze of the ground floor's support beams, hanging wiring and open hallways at a quick walk as he heads north toward the emergency exit on the north side of the structure.

Macro flashes up the side of the building undeterred, then ducks into the shadows on the fourth floor to break line of sight to the remaining guards before planning his next move.

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « I got topside. You head back down and take the ground guards from behind. »

Vollo's path continues north as he slinks along through the darkness, aided by his goggles and well hidden by his cloak. His progress is slow but steady, as he pauses to listen and observe before making each dash between corners, doorways and pillars. He makes it to the emergency exit in the center of the north wall and peeks through the glass to both sides. He doesn't open the door yet though…

Vollo tries the door after quickly looking it over. No traps, and it isn't locked. He pushes it just far enough to slip through sideways…

Vollo slips out unseen and transduces to the team, « Two guards at the northeast corner. I'll take care of them. »

Macro bursts out of his temporary hiding spot and covers the final distance between him and the guard on the roof, drawing and extending his staff in one smooth movement that ends with a brutal swing at the latter's chin.

The guard on the ground firing up toward the ork can be heard calling out to the rooftop, "Rodrigueeeeeez!"

The coked-up guard is still locked in the struggle over his weapon in the portable bathroom stall. He refuses to relinquish his gun to the hulking man and tries a new tactic…

Macro's strike hits Rodriguez' jaw with a crack that's audible even over the gunfire.

Rodrigueeeeeeez soars over the edge of the unfinished building to ragdoll through the other guard's spray of gunfire, arms and legs flopping as his whole body spins end over end to crumple against the packed earth of the construction site with a sickening crunch.

"Dejalo ir, motherfucker!" The guard in the stall rams the giant in the stomach with his shoulder and twists, wrenching the gun from Reinhard's massive hands by earning himself some leverage. He looks like he's planning to make a break out the door as he braces himself to break into a sprint.

Simone darts from the base of the crane to the south end of the connected bathrooms now that the gunfire has come to a momentary stop. She crouches low with her weapon held at the ready, leaning over one knee and looking northeast to see who might exit the bathroom, victorious.

Reinhard gets shoved back to stand a foot or two away from the stall. The kidneyshot left him momentarily staggered on top of his wounds, missing the opportunity to catch the disengaging guard. Instead, he clenched a bleeding smear at his side and tried to get away himself. (When it's his turn that is.)

The guard on the corner of the building calls out in Spanish then waves his left hand forward as if telling someone to move from behind him out to a location in front. He has clearly spotted Imaki and sights in on her, his weapon belching out a shower of lead in a burst of flame from the muzzle.

A second guard moves from behind the shooter, sprinting toward the narrow side of the trailer.

The running guard doesn't quite make it to the edge of the trailer.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « I really need help out here! »

The lithe asian with platinum blonde hair hears the staccato of gunfire, whips ehr head around and spots the guard leveling a machine pistol in her general direction. She presses back flat against the trailer's siding and thankfully the burst of rounds passes her without incident. In the break, she quickly scoots her booty up the stairs of the trailer, nudging open her bodysuit a bit more along the front with her right hand while her left wraps around the handle of the trailer's door and attempts to open it, praying it's unlocked.

Door opens, Yes! Blink, guy… gun.. gun.. guy.. And within a split second Imaki can tell no amount of skin is going to save her from being turned into a splatter zone. So before the man can react she just simply takes a half-step to the side, grabs ahold of the railing and hauls her ass over the edge, landing in the dirt and gravel below and rounding the corner, getting low and trying to 'become one' with the metallic siding.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Like really need help! »

Reinhard groans as the punch struck him in one of the bullet wounds he had suffered from the spray 'n praying guard. He tries to Quickdraw his pistol from inside his coat from his Quickdraw holster and shoot the guard!

Reinhard tried to draw his pistol after getting the air knocked out of him, after the guard's smack in his gut. It meant he was shooting with one hand with such a heavy pistol and ended up sending two large holes in the toilet next to the guard's shoulder and recoil throwing a second hole above his head.

Vollo moves quickly, both pistols moving from their holsters like extensions of his hands. The ruthernium cloak parts in the front and a shot from each barrel spits armor penetrating rounds. The first catches the guard high on the shoulder as he spins. The second hits the target in the neck, sending spray as the body pinwheels and hits the ground.

Macro lets his staff fall to the roof for now and quickly draws his trusty rifle from his back, then takes a moment to aim before sending a burst down toward the ground and the guard heading for the trailer.

Vollo moves to the corner of the building and assesses targets. The world around him still feels slow and he calculates further possible actions.

The second corner guard is dashing toward the trailer across open ground. His head dips as the pair of gunshots behind him take out yet another of his coworkers. This was just supposed to be a routine overnight guard detail!

The guard in the trailer can be heard between the gunfire, yelling frantically into his comm in an attempt to reach his team members.

Macro doesn't /quite/ lead his target enough and the burst goes through the guard's lower legs rather than center mass. Still, he's not going to be doing any moving any time soon, so Macro mentally scratches him off the threat list and kneels to cover the trailer.

The Dirty Harry revolver blasts massive holes in the plastic walls of the stall, so close that the small Aztlaner guard can feel the air ripple near him. He winces, crouches and darts out of the enclosed space to try to put distance between himself and the seven foot behemoth…

The laser sight on Gretchen's machine pistol whips across the ground to try and get a bead on the man — this was the moment she was waiting for…

The rounds from Gretchen's machine pistol rip through the less-armored armpit of the man's uniform, shattering ribs and ricocheting through his internal organs. He falls in instantaneous shock and gasps a final breath as a hand reaches out, his face pressed against the ground.

Vollo darts out from the corner, moving dead on to the trailer that is the target destination. His eyes move to all points in the arc of his sight and then center on the downed man that is still moving and a potential threat. Four whispery cracks bark from his pistols. Each bullet finding a home in the body. He finishes his movement and readies for the final target.

You enter the first room of the trailer which serves as a small breakroom/anteroom before the foreman's office. The lights are on, as is a flatscreen on the wall that is tuned to local news. Something about a power outage in the north part of the Aztlan sector seems to be getting some attention. Otherwise, there is just a kaf-machine, a small couch, a low table some charts on the walls, a small closet and the closed door to the office. You hear rapid, panicked breathing from behind the door, and the shuffling of booted feet.

Vollo moves into the trailer low, looking for targets. He assesses in a split second and moves to the door. Trying it proves it to be locked so he steps to the side and fires twice into the lock housing, once with each pistol.

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « All clear up here. Coverin' the trailer. »

Macro picks up and reholsters his staff, then goes into a crouch, covering the trailer.

You paged Vollo with 'You hear a smooth-sounding sliding noise, nonmetallic, then shuffling and grunting. Please don't act on this or comment on it yet.'.

You paged Macro with 'You see a leg come out the window of the narrow, northwest-facing side of the trailer, then a second leg, then the rest of a guard. He lands and begins sprinting north.'.

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Runner, northwest! »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « And down. »

As the guard in the toiletstall had run off, Reinhard gasped and clenched his bullet wounds in the side of his gut, dragging himself over to Simone's position and crouched down. Once there, he groaned quietly and opened his coat to look at his bleeding stomach. Getting hit by a burst of bullets at point blank clearly isn't a wise move it seems. He can't tell how deep or if it hit vitals however.

Commlink-Gretchen> Simone sends, « Shit, the big man is shot to hell… » Gretchen hastily comments, but sounds slightly relieved that a teammate didn't die in a toilet. « I'm going to see what I can do. Cover us… »

Gretchen shifts to face Reinhard and coaches him to keep pressure on the wound as she opens the top flap of her bag and rummages, pulling out a flat, square kit and a spray canister.

Gretchen doesn't necessarily help much, seeming flustered at having just taken a man's life. She is constantly leaning out past the greenish-blue restroom wall to peek at the corpse to make sure it isn't moving, so her focus on Reinhard's bullet wounds is minimal. "Just…" She turns to the body. "Just keep pressure on it…" The medical kit is open, but not being put to use.

The asian, and apparently only one on the team without a gun, zips her suit back up and glances towards the shithouses with a slight look of concern on her features. Then she stands up from her half crouch and rather nonchalantly strolls around the corner, back to the staircase and scales them to the trailer's door. As she steps into the trailer behind the Night One she is digging into her satchel, pulling out a small rolled up bolt of black cloth tied closed by a pair of simple tassels, looking about the interior care free, assuming that Vollo has already murdered the guard she'd come face to face with just a few moments ago.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Don't you dare die on me Reinhard. »

Vollo moves into the room, leading with guns and watching for any sign of movement. Then he steps to the side allowing Nubia room to enter.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « I saw news on the trid of the blackout in the sector over from here. Office empty. Ready to plant charges. Savior medkit in the van if wounds are bad. »

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « It is all timing now folks. »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Will cover from up here until the data's secure. Don't blow the charges without a ten second warning, please. »

Imaki walks in behind Vollo and spotting the computer just heads on over to the desk, settles her rear into his chair and pulls up to the desk. The kit of tools reminiscent of old world doctor's travelling tool carrier is placed on the desk as Imaki looks the computer over for the power button and begins the process of booting it up.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « You better save my German boys. »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « What, did ya void the warranty on him already? »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « No, but he's non-refundable. »

Simone presses firmly against Reinhard's hands to ensure that he in turn is pressing firmly on his own wounds. She shoves enough sterile gauze under the armor first to help prevent any further dripping, at least for a little while, then busies herself with spraying down the mans path from the stall in case he bled. Once she reaches the battle toilet, she looks around in astonisment at all the bullet holes, then continues to spray jets of fine mist all around while holding a pen-light up to spot any crimson droplets.

Hearing the casual chatter over the comm and with the spray not having done anything to his injury, Reinhard tried to get up after getting the gauze shoved beneath his hands, and went off to try and find the exit to the place. He naturally clenched his side to keep pressure on the wound as instructed, hoping to get back to the garage and get to his car.

Imaki leans back in the chair and takes the time to look over the foreman's desk, gently picking things up and examining them with her bare left hand. She doesn't care about leaving fingerprints since her synthetic RealSkinn doesn't have any, while she waits for the desktop to finish its boot sequence and greet her with a joyful ping.

Vollo looks at the woman getting ready to do her thing and whispers, "Good luck, gonna go plant some flowers." Then he's gone, back out the door of the trailer and heading toward the furthest piece of heavy machinery.

Commlink-Fuzzer> Vollo sends, « Will work my way back toward the exit direction. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Reinhart are you still alive at least? »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Also this thing looks kind of old, I might have to splice together a custom connector to jack into it if I can't crack the OS and bypass the passlock »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « Nnrh, ja. Took a few bullets. Gretchen help me stop der bleeding.. I will be fine. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Alright well, someone's on the clean up right? Please? »

The foreman's office is just a rental, for on-site management, but he has a few personal trinkets on the desk, family photos and such. He's evidently human, with a human wife, judging by their Rocky Mountain hiking pic, and they apparently have six wonderful children ranging from about 6 to 15 years old.

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Good point, we don't want traceable blood stains. »

Imaki gives Vollo a nod as she kicks her feet up onto the desk and really settles into a relaxing state in her chair, slowly getting over the adrenaline high of having a bullet graze her armored suit, ducking out the line of fire just in the nick of time and coming face to face with a gun a second later. Now she's settling into her comfort zone, getting ready to do what she's good at.

The asian looks over the photos for a moment, then leans forward and picks up the picture of the hiking photo opportunity. She flips it over and looks for a way to get the picture out of the frame to check for any names written on it.

It only takes a moment for her to realize they're not physical pictures and with a huff she sets them back down on the desk.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Okay this thing finally booted up, starting a manual bypass on the OS now. »

Imaki leans forward into a proper seated position once the screen comes to life and her fingers go to the keys and start typing away quickly with an ease and practice. She ques up the base command prompt from the login screen with a series of keyboard shortcuts and begins trying to tell the OS to open the computer up without a password with lots of mechanical keyboard sounds coming from her fingertips as she pounds away.

Once the wounded German got back to his SUV in the garage, he opened the trunk and began to rummage through his inventory stored inside it. He tossed his coat off and began to bandage himself to keep the gauze in place so he could drive with both hands free. Once finished and patched up, he shut the trunk with a smack and drove the car on down next to the construction site, waiting for rest of the party to finish up, parked by the fence.

Vollo trots among the earthmovers looking for the best places to plant explosives. What he wants are the petrol tanks. He finds them and spills the liquid out so things will really light up. Then he moves to his first target, setting up the plastic exploosive and the detonator wire that will catch the signal.

The little asian chews on her lower lip as she keeps getting an ERROR: Access Denied, floating across the screen with her every attempt to bypass the system's password lock. She grows a bit frustrated at the fifth error beep and pushes the keyboard away in irritation. She rubs at her temple where the headache is still brewing from her quick dump from the 'Trix and sighs softly.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Manual override is out, looks like I'll be jacking in. »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, in the noise of the car engine, «Kanst du just get the harddrive out?»

Commlink-Gretchen> Simone sends, « I'm almost through with clean-up. He… lost a lot of blood. »

Commlink-Reinhard> Reinhard sends, « Ah, well.. Sorry about that. »

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « So I'm driving, gotcha. »

Commlink-Sticks> Macro sends, « Hey, Fuzz. Leave the trailer and the post intact. I'm sure the investigations team will be real interested in the novacoke residue on the table and in the guards' systems. »

Simone sprays the stall liberally, inside and out, letting the chemicals do their work as she moves to the fallen guard she killed. She kneels near the body and has a quiet moment before she gingerly reaches her hands out toward the corpse, very slowly, very cautiously.

The blonde asian takes a moment, thinks about it then pulls the desktop's tower out a bit and starts looking over cables coming from the back of the device, nodding to herself as she verifies that it's only hardwire is the powerline. Then she reaches into her satchel, pulling out one datacord that jacks into her wrist, then another dip into the leather satchel with another datacord that she slots into the server. She keys her tranducer for a moment before she slumps back into the chair and projects her conciousness into her deck.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « I'm going to verify this is the only server this thing is hooked up to and if it is, fuck it, I'll just take the box. »

In the quasi-existence that is the Matrix, a shadow being has come a knocking on the server's doors, though by knocking instead it just slips in underneath the radar and opens up a search que. For her this representation manifests itself as a series of video screens that begins displaying dozens of bulletin lists of the files on the Index of the server as she tells her little utility to find the architectural designs with a sideswitch for anything tagged 'renovation' as well.

The terminal's iconography once jacked in is very generic, just a basic HoloLISP OS interface with a lot of sliding panels to interface with the digital environment, and everything glows a friendly shade of blue. At your request, the file is easily located and presented before your icon, but it is accompanied by the arrival of intrusion countermeasures — the search brought enough attention to flag Imaki as an intruder, though no alerts have been set off yet. The IC is a famous icon used in enough ads for this OS to be recognizable as the 'Knight' figure, a sort of advertizing mascot. The plate-mailed figure stands ready to defend the system.

Reinhard taps his glasses and checks his surroundings for anyone approaching the construction site with thermo, from the road he is parked by, south of the site's fence.

Gretchen continues to rummage the area in a hurry.

As the Knight appears, Shadow Dancer holds her up hands and a pair of red laser-beams begins emitting from her palms. One set scans the Knight standing infront of the access panels she's not using herself, and the other running over the file she's pulled forward from the Index, attempting to scan their programs, the Knight to see what type of IC he is an the file to see i there are any dataprints that lead outside this Host from a copy being moved.

The knight's purpose is revealed, but the datafile stubbornly resists the query as to whether it is the only copy. The color scheme of the iconography shifts to amber as the passive alert is triggered.

The knight stands stoically, more like a set of armor on display than a combatant.

The suit of armor 'comes to life' as it were, and begins to approach Imaki's icon.

Pew bang pew, the Shadow Dancer icon is beat on and slapped at by the Knight icon's while she desperately tries to erase her dataprint on the server while prepping her simsense systems for the jackout procedure. However the Knight is able to get past her Armor quite a few times and the Icon is foricbly shoved off the server.

As the asian's conciousness becomes a swirling mass down a tube of information that gets slammed back into her body quite forcefully….The girl doesn't even open her eyes, she just yanks the cord out of her wrist like it was a snake latched to her and spewing poison into her veins and leans forward, putting elbows on her knees and face in her palms. The whole dive took a total of maybe a minute, but it felt like an eternity, and the two minutes of silence afterwards are even worse as she deals with the raging pain that has blossomed between her temples. She finally gains enough concentration to use her transducer about four minutes after she had gone silent on the comm channel.

Commlink-Nubia> Imaki sends, « Okay… only one copy… lets just grab this stupid thing and take it with us… »

Once Imaki gets over the initial throbbing ache that has settled in her skull, she sets about spooling her datacords back into her deck and tucking her tool kit back into the satchel before she closes it. She works slowly with a touch of lethargy as she compensates with the swollen brain bouncing around in her skull. There's a groan as she stands up, then she unplugs the cables from the back of the tower hooking it to the wall, monitor and keyboard before hefting it in her arms. What would normally weigh next to nothing almost feels a like boulder as she makes her way out of the trailer and looking around, over to Reinhard's SUV. More slow painful ministrations as she positions the tower's casing against the door with one arm and her torso, then pops open the door, maneuvers around it, slides the server in, then just slides in ontop of it and grunts loudly at the driver as she squeezes her eyes closed.

Once the whole party had fled into the car he had parked and ready, Reinhard stepped on the metal and went right off before the cops would arrive! If Vollo had gone to his own van at the garage to trigger the explosives, they would drive away in a dramatic action filled scenario of fire and dust as the construction site would collapse in a heap of scrap, leaving death and wreckage behind.

Simone keeps in touch with Vollo over comms as the others evacuate. She returns to her hole in the fence, waiting nervously outside until the night one comes hurrying to her location. "The place is set to blow. Time to move," he whispers, then the pair make their way back to the vans at the top of the parking structure, cautious to avoid being spotted (though the elf has a much easier time of that due to his cloak). They make their way to the limit of the radio detonator's range before triggering the explosions, and the construction site is devastated by the wreckage of tractors, vehicles, half of the unfinished structure collapsing in on itself, fuel canisters sending balls of fire skyward, and a great plume of dust surrounds the entire block. That's another run finished, another corporate endeavor stymied.

The data is handed off, cred is distributed, and for the next few weeks the local news bulletins chatter about a team of murdered security guards, a power failure and a mysterious explosion at a construction project in the Aztlan sector. The media coverage will die down in time, but until then, the culprits should have more than enough cred to lay low until their next shadowrun…

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License