Darkness Falls

Chapter One: Project Falcon

You arrive at the Locust a bit before 9, your usual time for meets with Zeke. You head down the stairs to the door into the basement level bar and duck inside just in time to avoid the start of the slight drizzle the weathermen have been predicting all day. You're struck, as always, by the unusal decor - the bar's black painted woodwork and red leather always makes you think of someplace that should smell of either sex or cigar smoke, but the Locust smells of neither - indeed, the air is far fresher then the normal city fare, lacking even the faint, omni-present taint of pollution. The long, low bar is of granite and polished to a high gloss and instead of the usual taps and cheap liquors, the wall behind it is taken up with an extensive wine rack, each bottle individually climate controlled.

You slip the greeter one of Zeke's cards and he nods politely and leads you through a door behind the bar and down a short hall to a private room. The room is decorated much more tastefully in cool blues and greens and two men (plus any other runners who arive before you) sit at a table, which is covered with a snowy white table cloth and set with seven wine glasses. Zeke looks like he always does - if trolls could be short, skinny, acne-covered teenagers, then Zeke would be one. As it is, he remains about the least threatening troll you've ever seen. The other man is clearly the Johnson. He's pure corporate - nice, but not over the top, grey suit, red neo-silk tie, leather briefcase. No obvious weapons or armor. His face is bland and forgetable - the face of an accountant or some other back room number cruncher. Zeke nods for you to pull up a chair and continues his low voiced coversation with the suit.

Shortly after everyone arrives, a server enters with a dusty bottle. Popping the cork, he passes it to Zeke, who sniffs it, then nods. The server pours a small amount into Zeke's glass and the troll tastes it delicately and nods again. "Good enough." The server poors both Zeke and the suit a glass, and tucks the bottle away in a climate controlled bucket before turning back to Zeke and asking "And anything for your other guests?" Zeke raises a questioning eyebrow at the group. "Order if you like, then we'll get started."

OOC: Go ahead and post your arrival/introduction and we'll get things rolling. Remember that you've been on at least one run with the each of the others before, even if you haven't all worked together as a unified team. You know from past experience that drinks at the Locust are not cheap - if you want to order something, you'll have to buy by the bottle and nothing they carry goes for less then 200y.

A very nondescript man in a buisness suit walks in from the public room, he's tanned enough that his ethnicity is difficult to point out - average height and weight - non descript fairly high quality suit. The oddest thing about him is that he's so damned non-descript - like the Johnson only more so.

And his gait matched the corperates that make up a good portion of the customers. Not the prowl of a constantly alert predator, but the leasurely walk of someone more concerned with appearence then being ready for an imminent threat.

* * *

If he had his druthers, Needle would have ordered the wine on general principal - both for the experience and to cement his reputation as a connesieur with a new Johnson, but his hatest indulgence had put him so far in the red he just couldn't justify it. Maybe after his next run - after he picked up an olfactory or tastesense booster.. that would be absolutely amazing... he shook himself out of his daydream after a moment. He really should get himself an attention co-proccesor.

Needles took a quick cursitory glance at the wine rack as though he knew or cared about the vintage, using it to give himself the excuse to check the room for traps and kick the layout into his orientation system. After a moment he gave a breif shake of his head. "I'm more interested in hearing the business proposition from Mr.. Johnson was it?" he said casually, taking a seat at the table and loading up his empathy soft on his internal commlink.

A heavily armored Bulldog Step-Van with a turret-mounted machine gun pulls up in front of the club, and out steps a woman of Japanese descent. She's dressed in a long jade-colored dress that goes well against her skin, hugging her curves. A long slit runs up one side, exposing a liberal amount of leg, just as the back of the dress dips low, all the way to her waist. A small purse hangs from her shoulder.

As the woman steps away from the van, it is clear that nobody is driving. The door shuts of its own accord, and the van drives off, finding a good parking spot nearby. One might note that the van's markings put it as belonging to a local security corporation.

Walking down into the meet site, the hacker/rigger known as Motoko Kusanagi smiled at the server who ushered her into the room. In this setting, she was known simply as Motoko, but those who had dived the matrix with her found that she was normally known simply as "the Major" there, though she didn't seem the type to have any kind of military background.

She nodded to Zeke, and Needle, as she took her seat. Smiling at the Johnson, she said, simply, "Oh, no thank you. I don't drink when I'm working. Last thing I need is for my brain to get fuzzy with fine wine, afterall. My babies depend on me being in top form." Of course, when she talks about her babies, she means the van, and the drones its carrying.

A busted-up pickup screeches around the corner, nearly on two wheels, coming to a too-short stop just as it passes an available spot just across the street from the Locust. The driver parallel parks it with textbook precision, and cuts the engine.

Artemis takes a deep breath, and a quick look around her truck's interior. She pulls up the left leg of her pants, checking the hollowed out part of her leg - smoke grenade and trauma patches, check. She then grabs the holstered 620S from the glove box, checking the safety and tucking the whole thing into her belt at the small of her back. Finally, she makes sure that the automatic grenade launcher resting in the back of the extended cab is not readily visible from the exterior.

Looks good, she thinks to herself, opening the door and pulling herself out of the truck with a groan.

Artemis was 35 years old, but looked closer to 40. Her rough, weathered hands betrayed a life of manual labor, and her leathery skin meant she'd spent far too much time in the sun. The pronounced limp and close-cut hair didn't make her look any younger. Most noticeable, however, was the slight discoloration on much of the left side of her face and neck, an indication of burns so deep even the modern medicine hadn't been able to completely hide the scars. That, coupled with the gunmetal left hand coming out of her the sleeve of her military-issue flak jacket , and the pronounced limp, favcoring her left leg, spelled out someone who'd been through something truly horrible, but lived to talk about it.

Artemis flips her PAN ifrom hidden to passive mode as she approaches the bar, arriving at more or less the same time as the others.

"How goes it, Zeke?" she asks tiredly, her English heavily tained by a French-Canadian accent. She gives the server a bit of a stink-eye as he pours Zeke's drink. "Still drinking this imported drek, I see. Why do you waste your money?"

An enshrouded figure knelt in the night on the rooftop of a building that sat high above most of the cityscape. She enjoyed all the sights the city offered from this view, the sounds and the smells enveloped her. The dark figure closed her eyes and felt the very pulse of the city flow along with hers as she stood from her lonely perch. Reading a passage from a red book that she protected from the rain. Her target was a meeting at a bar several miles from where she was at, a short run for her. "Wracked with your charm I am circled like prey Back in the forest where whispers persuade more sugar trails where white lady laid than pillars of salt. We owe our lives to those that lay before us, and our souls to the city that feeds us." she snapped her book shut as a several hidden voices behind her replied in unison. "And we shall follow you that saved us, Amen." From the deepest shadows 5 figures, dressed exactly like her stood silently and leaped from the high rise roof, scattering to the winds. the lower half of the womans face could be seen as she raised her head slightly. "And i shall lead you who saved me, Amen." The shadowy figure raised one foot off the ledge as she let her balance give way to gravity, pulling her down the edge of the building.

The path of the righteous is beset on all sides by the inequities of evil men.

the feeling of the rushing air let her know that she was still alive as her eyes closed to the bright lights that rushed passed, from the streets below all anyone could see was a figure made of darkness rushing towards the ground, as her feet met the side of the building, she deftly began to pump her legs, gaining momentum as she neared the ground. lights rushing up at her, faster and faster, her eyes still closed as a soft smile slid onto her face.

As she neared the ground, almost a dozen people had noticed her by now, she raised a hand as a line shot out from her grappling hook, latching onto another building across the street, she felt the line grow taught as she lifted her legs, letting the rope take her weight and momentum, swinging her with great speed through an alleyway and up onto another rooftop, she sent a soft mental command to the hook through her commlink to release as she landed with a slide onto the rooftop, rolling to her feet as she opened her eyes. now running with great speed.

Up over air conditioners, under pipes and up and over ledges to more and more buildings, the city blazed past her, the rushing air being the only thing that let her now exactly how alive she was.

Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness.

The commlink now beaped, letting her know she was nearing the Locust as she took one last jump and slid down a rooftop ledge that lead more than enough stories to kill anyone that fell this distance, but she was not anyone, letting her feet once more feel the surface, she curled into a ball as she pushed off as hard as she could changing her momentum from a fall to a great leap that spanned an entire city block with only one more jump, finally she saw her target, she closed her eyes to the city, letting it lead our dark figure where she needed to go, her left hand felt a hard metal pipe as she neared the edge of a final building. grabbing it, she swung down into an alleyway that lead to the hard ground, far from her home within the great heights of such a city.

Looking up at her rooftops as she saw similar acts going on, dark figures bounding and disappearing into the shadows as the rest of her sanctuary carried out their business, letting her know that no matter what, she need not be alone anymore.

She crossed the street and entered the Locust. The roof over her head while protecting her from the rain, also made her long once more for the outside. The greeter leading her though the rear door, Matron would refuse the usual drink, it was an annoyance with Zeke, but she never drank anything but water. "Though we have walked through the valley of shadow and death, we feared no evil and came out alive. Good Evening Gentlemen, and Ladies. I see we are here again at the behest of our benefactor." She decided it was best to take a seat, the run to the bar was nothing new, but she still needed time to adjust to the equipment that had been given to her.

Despite being gifted at only letting his emotions show when he wanted, Needle gave a momentary twitch of his mouth when Matron walked into the room as he spied her.. there was something not quite right about the way she moved.. maybe some magical ju-ju was making her faster. Or maybe he was just imagining things from the last run he'd been on with her. They'd gotten paid, but he'd spent hours having most of his gear cleaned - blood was SUCH a pain to get out.

Not to mention the serious amount of time he'd spent trying to forget the incident. He'd even considered smoking one of his own Laes cigarettes.

It wasn't that he DISLIKED her, it was just he associated her with the ugliest bloodbath he'd ever experienced this side of the "Coffin" sim series, and the fact that his corperate upbringing, subliminally buried in a deep primal part of his brain, kept telling him that crazy people who spouted scripture and could probobly kill everyone in the room should be avoided.

After a moment, he plastered as good a smile on his face as he could manage.

Matron... your looking well. I haven't seen you since that thing with the guys at the place. Is this everyone?

He went over the rest of the team so far in his head...

The Major was interesting, military background probobly with a name like that - but she certainly seemed at home in a high class place like the Locust - maybe it was just the way she filled out that dress. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he'd seen her somewhere before. He'd worked with her on a milk run - he'd been about as useless as a pre-crash deck on that run - his biggest contribution he had delivered that time been negotiating with the Johnson and getting another 20%.

Artemis had clearly been in the drek, countless times by the look of her. Zeke had told him one time that there were some fraking stupid runners, and there were old runners, but there was no such thing as an old stupid runner. Experience either made you good or dissapeared you. She'd probobly been in more firefights then the
rest of the team put together.

Well... maybe not Matron.

Looking at the others, Motoko grinned. Ah, there were some interesting memories there, to be sure. And if this group had all been assembled for one job, then it was something big, and something that would pay.

Sure, there was that little job she'd done with Needle. Simple job, but the guy had done his part, getting them the extra coin. It would have been a rough hack, but she'd had a chat with Divvy, and he'd pointed out an easily exploited back door to the system that made the job cake. All that was left was to deliver the goods. Easy as pie.

Artemis. Now there was a true badass. She remembered the second job she took with the warrior woman. That job could have gone sour, fast. It was supposed to be a simple assassination. That part went fine. Four shots, four dead bodies, just as planned. Except some idiot managed to spot a muzzleflash, and security came swarming. If it wasn't for Artemis, Motoko doubted she'd be here. But they managed to get out, without any real holes put in them.

And of course there was the Matron. The woman knew how to put holes in people, that much was certain. What a run that first meeting with her was. Delivering supplies to some corp outpost doing experiments on Infected was crazy enough. Especially since they were slap in the middle of ghoul territory. And then the damn things broke out of their cages! They got paid, sure, but more importantly, they got out alive. Though she did have to replace a few hundred rounds of ammo that she'd used on that run.

Bringing her attention back to the present, Motoko looked around, waiting to see what would happen next.

Despite her age and obvious experience, Artemis had probably been running the shortest of the group. She'd done a good job of not letting it show, but she wondered how much they actually knew as she sized them up, recalling their past experiences together.

Needles, she'd worked with the most, and understood the least - mostly because while he was getting things done, she was sitting in the truck, van, chopper, or safehouse, waiting for things to go wrong. They rarely did when Needles was involved, so she knew he must be capable, but she'd not once actually seen him in action. Maybe this time . . .

The Major she knew even less. The girl's drones were something else, but she didn't seem as tech-savvy as you'd expect from a - what the hell did they called them here? - a rigger. No, she wasn't just a rigger. The drones weren't machines to her, they were colleagues, friends, even family. They meant something to her. And the Matrix wasn't just a place to download sims and check up on Johnson's to her - the girl talked about the place like it was real. Maybe she was just crazy, treating machines and programs and network like real people and places, but she got the job done.

Matron, she related to the best, but had worked with the least. She was a warrior, and all warriors were the same inside . . . even the ones who could fly - literally fly. Artemis had laughed like a little girl seeing her first fireworks show the first (and only) time she saw Motoko pull off that particular trick. The Saeder-Krupp hit squad she'd pulled it on hadn't found it nearly as amusing, though. That had been a particularly ugly encounter.

Next to these three, she felt downright ordinary, but of course she couldn't let that show. If there was one great secret to military training that few outside of the service ever truly understood, it was that it made you a fine actor. They called it "bearing," but it was actually more like bluffing. A soldier had to quickly learn how not to laugh at the funniest jokes, not to tremble at the most terrifying sights, and not to look the slightest bit confused when in reality you hadn't a clue what was going on or how you were going to deal with it. Artemis had been better at it in years past, before she had the constant distraction of the never-ending aches where her metal met her flesh, but she still had enough to look the part of longtime shadowrunner with forty levels of badass.

"So what's cooking Zeke? I hope it pays well, 'cause the rent is due, and the library called today about some books I borrowed in '66. Apparently their records are completely Crash-proof. Them, and the IRS, I'm told."

OOC: Go ahead and post when you've got a chance thrakir, in the meantime I'm going to go ahead and get his ball rolling. Assume the others fill you in once you've arrived but after the meet with the Johnson.

IC:

Zeke snorts and glares at Artemis. "The reason I drink it is called 'Good taste' as you well know. And you're right, I guess its time to get started. I had one more runner who I was hoping would show, but it looks like he may have been detained." Zeke looks around at those assembled, weighing them with his eyes as he stands to greet them properly. He turns and offers a hand to Sarah. "Matron." Mokoto gets the same. "Major." Needle gets a slightly different greeting. "You look like dreck, just like normal. Glad you could make it." Sitting, Zeke gestures for the others to resume their own seats. Once everyone is settles, he continues. "This, as I'm sure you've guessed, is Mr Johnson. He is interested in retaining your services for a matter of some delicacy. I'll now turn over this briefing to him." Zeke gestures for the Johnson to begin, then reaches under the table to tap something and the room immediatly takes on a slightly hollow, echoy feeling.

The suit nods politely to Zeke, and sets his briefcase on the table top. The first item out of it is a holo-projector which he sets in the middle of the table. Tapping a button on its side powers it up, and it displays small holo-pictures of three individuals. One's a suit who could be the Johnson's brother. The second is an older human wearing old fashion bi-focals. The third is an orc with a blue mohawk. "These three individuals are members of LoneStar. Their names and jobs are don't matter for the purposes of this discussion, except for two salient facts. First, all three have been positively identified as working for a top secret division code-named 'Project Falcon.' Second, they have all been spotted mutliple times here..."

The Johnson taps the projector again, causing the view to shift to a two-story building. Its longer then it is wide and while reasonable sized, its not going to be giving any mega-scrapers a run for their money. The glass double doors which appear to be the main enterance are topped with an unfamiliar gun and target logo. The Johnson continues the brief. "This is an office of TacTech. For those unfamilar with the corp, its a subsidiary of LoneStar specializing in the training of officers and the development of new law enforcement tactics. We believe this particular facility is also being used as a front for work on Project Falcon."

The suit pauses for a sip of his wine, then continues. "As I imagine you've guessed, my employeers desire information of Project Falcon. We want your to aquire it for us. We aren't picky about the methods, but I will inform you that we have had experts attempt remote access to the site's node. Either the information isn't loaded online at all, or its loaded on an internal node not connected to the matrix. Your fee for the retrevial of this information is 20,000y, a quarter up front."

"Additionally, we would prefer that no one at LoneStar realize their project has been comprimised. If at all possible, we would prefer you slip in, COPY, rather then take, the information and slip out without anyone realizing the run has taken place. If you manage to do so, there will be a 25,000y bonus in it. If you can't cover your tracks entirely but can manage to lay a red herring and convince the Star that the target of the run was something else and the Project Falcon data is still secure, there will be a smaller 10,000y bonus."

The Johnson reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a manila envelop, which he slides across the table to the group. "This contains 2-d hard-copies of the employee and building holos as well as a certified cred stick for your inital payment and a mapsoft with the location of the building. We ask that you load no information concerning this run or Project Falcon on any node connected to the Matrix and maintain conditions of complete secrecy. You may choose to decline the run with no hard feelings as long as you keep your mouth shut. If you leak information after either decining or accepting the run, a 100,000y bounty will be placed upon your heads. Questions?"

Needle stroked his chin after a moment. Going up against the Star, even a subsidiary, didn't sound too fun, but it wasn't like flagged by Ares or Fuchi was any less dangerous.

A few. The first is if there's any timeframe we should know about.

The second is if the facility is an actual training facility or if it's just development site.

The third is about the remote access attempt - I'm curious to know if it twigged any alarms or if you have any recoreded info from the information could be useful for infiltration purposes.

The suit nods. "Good points all. To the best of our knowledge, the facility is an active training site, but we haven't had anyone inside so we can't say for sure. The probe was handled by independent contractors such as yourselves. They advised us that they were unable to obtain the data put provided no information on what else they may have found. They made no mention of alarms one way or another, but we have seen no signs of increased physical or matrix based security at the site in the two weeks since the attempt was made. As for a time frame, we have no indication that the project will be moved in the near future, but that means little - if we had that depth of penetration we would likely not need your services. I would recommend moving as quickly as you can, but I doubt the project is going to walk off or go public in the next day or two."

Artemis listens carefully, nodding as key points are mentioned, and then quickly does the math in her head. 20,000 split four, no five ways would cover her for at least three weeks. Add in one of the bonuses, and it's a full month's pay and expenses. So, the nuyen looked good.

But quietly getting in and out of such a small facility, and one that trains security personnel was not going to be easy. Noisily in and out - that'd be no sweat. But quietly was another matter entirely. Still, with Needle's skills on the ground, and Major's in the Matrix, it might just work out. One of them would probably have a plan put together soon enough. In the meanwhile, a stake-out of the target was definitely called for. Her truck would be perfect for that - it blended in pretty well almost anywhere. Hell, she blended in pretty well in such a place - could probably just walk in the front door and start asking questions. She'd have to mention that to Needle - see what he thought it was too risky.

"Information extract. Okay. Makes sense. One question: A facility like that is bound to have some impressive gear inside - for training purposes. If some of that were to go missing, would it compromise you in any way?"

The Johnson shrugs. "I'm sure they've got a a fair amount of gear onsite, though I doubt they just leave it lying around in the open when not in use. Taking some would clearly prevent you from getting the full bonus, but might be useful in getting the lower one - if it looks like the run was to grab gear, that might do the trick."

Artemis nods, thinking that if it doesn't look possible to get in and out undetected, making it look like an old-fashioned burglary might do the trick, and might even make up for the reduced pay if there's anything valuable inside. She'll have to mention it to the others when the negotiations are finished.

Motoko gritted her teeth as Zeke pressed the button under the table, glaring at him as she did so. If looks could kill, this was a megaton nuclear blast. She began breathing heavily as she listened to what the Johnson said, but couldn't really pay attention to what was going on, as she tried to force her hands to keep from twitching. For those that knew her, this was a side of her that they might not have seen. She looked like an addict who just had the IV ripped out of his arm.

"Fine, I'm in! Just shut that damn thing off!"

Needles took a quick momentary glance at the Major in thermoptic - one of the best things about having a proper internal commlink was still having your local PAN functions tied to your cyberware even in the face of jamming. According to his thermo and empathic software, something had twigged her blood pressure up...

He waited a moment for any other questions before delivering his pitch - he wasn't sure about the Johnson, but he wouldn't be a salesman or negotiator if he didn't try and up the take.



Well, looks like you've hooked the Major...

It sounds doable - we'll know more once we start with some legwork, but I do have some misgivings about the target.



His tone abruptly changed a bit, and he started dipping a little more into the old familiar patterns of corp jargon.



From our perspective the risk/reward ratio is a little skewed against us.

Normally your offer would be acceptable for standard business practices, but commencing an executive action against a division of the subject strikes me as
requiring more work outflow then standard practices would justify at your current proposed level of compensation.

Consider that if something goes sub-optimal - even if we manage to acquire the product and don't discover their security failure until later - they would have access to what is probably the largest corperate security force in Seattle, with additional legal authority that extends to any non extra teritorial zone.

They also possess one of the widest nets of non-corperate human resources (I.E. Stoolies and Vice officers) in Seattle as well on their payroll, and have sizable forensic assets.

There is also the additional issue of on site security - the site you propose has the potential to have an effective security force four or five times larger then normal.



Needle paused for a moment as though mulling it over.



It's not a deal breaker, but I don't think the compensation for your outsourced-contractors adequately reflects the additional risks involved.

The Johnson gives Needle a somewhat odd look at the sudden onset of corporate jargon, then seems to think for a minute and shrugs. "The base fee is non-negotiable. However, feel free to tack another 5,000y onto the bonus if you earn it - either one. Additionally, my employers have access to a lot of items that are hard to find at the street level. Zeke knows how to get in touch with me - if you are having trouble tracking down a piece of gear, I might be able to offer a bit of aid."

Needle mulls it over for a moment, and then nods.

I think we've reached an understanding.

Artemis reaches for the envelope with her "bad" (read: metal) hand, pausing with her reach across the table. "Are we done here?" she glances at each of her comrades, Zeke, and Mr. Johnson, in that order, "because I think the Major would very much like it if we were."

"Isn't that so, comrade?" she adds in her native tongue (Quebecois French), smirking at Motoko.

Motoko didn't understand a word Artemis said when she stopped speaking English, and at this point, she wasn't in a mood to care. If Zeke didn't turn that damn jammer off soon, she would get a migraine. With a final glare at Zeke, she utters a string of words in Japanese that were less than flattering. Something about Zeke's heritage, and the prominent role several farm animals and first cousins played in it. There was also a good deal about what she would do to him if he used something like that around her again without giving her at least a warning. That part was very explicit, and involved a great deal of property destruction, as well as calling in a favor or two she had with the Yaks to 'deal' with him. As she spoke, she rose, and left the room, not caring in the slightest how this looked. Zeke should have known better than to pull something like that without warning.

Back outside, Motoko sighed as she retreated to the comfort of her van, the satellite connection inside soothing to her. She began changing out of her dress as the van drove off, preferring to stay mobile for the time being, and got into her 'work' clothes, a chameleon suit that hugged her curves closely.

The Johnson looks abit taken aback at Mokoto's abrupt exit, but after staring at the door for a moment, eventually shrugs it off. An uncomfortable silence follows. After a couple minutes, Zeke clears his through. The Johnson turns and looks at his, the back at the group. "Ah... yes. Well, that seems to be that. Zeke knows how to reach me. Contact him when you have the data and we'll arrange a meet to transfer it and your pay." He turns back to Zeke and out his hand. "The device?" Zeke taps a box under the table and sound in the room returns to normal. He hands the box to the Johnson, who tucks it away in his briefcase and leaves without any further fuss, leaving his half full wine glass on the table.

Zeke turns back to the group and shrugs. "Johnsons. Can't live with 'em, don't get paid without 'em. Give Mokoto my best when you talk to her - didn't know that thing would hit her that hard. I'd recommend sitting down for a brain storming session on how ya want to go about this thing - and calling Mokoto so she stays in the loop - but its your job, so its your call. This room is rented for the night if you want to hash things out here, but I'm turning in. Call when ya got the data or if you need anything." Zeke, unlike the Johnson, carefully finished his wine, then stands and makes his way to the door.

Once the Johnson left, Needle relaxed visibly, and his voice lost it's gravitas, replaced instead by a more natural tone. He turns quickly over to Zeke and waves as he leaves.

Happy fixin Zeke, I'll try and smooth things over with the Major when she cools down a bit.

After both of them leave Needle sends a quick message back to the Major. All systems OK Major? Mr. Suit has left the building with his crazy contraption. Safe to come back in if you want or we can head somewhere else. I'd rather not use our PAN's for our legwork planning. Oh, by the way, he left his wine glass half empty in case you want his prints / DNA. : )

Once he'd sent that off, he turned to his two other teammates.
So.. now what chummers?

Artemis opened the envelope and began shuffling through the photos inside. Holos gave one a level of detail and a sense of structure that could never be matched in any 2-D rendering, no matter the resolution, but something that you could actually hold in your hand and pass around the table always felt more real. Johnsons seemed to be aware of that, too, since they always provided these print-outs even though a datachip with the holos on it would always work just as well (and probably be just as secure).

"Y'know, if we played this just right, we could probably just walk through the front door, and walk out the same with the data. Folks like us might actually blend in at a place like this."

And then Motoko appears in everyone's PAN, as her customary avatar. I'm going home, to start checking out their system. Need to go full VR for that. If you like, I can try and put you guys on the payroll, give us legit reasons to be walking around in there. Send me copies of everything the jerk left us, and I'll get to work on cracking the system. I can brute force it, but that will set off alarms. So its going to take a few hours to do it quiet-like.

I'll send word when I'm in. Message me if there's anything you need from the Matrix. And with that she closes the link, apparently still upset by the man who tried to drive a dagger in her brain.

In her van, Motoko gave a mental command, sending the vehicle back to her home. She didn't know how long she'd be under, so she should eat something before going in. And she would NOT stop at some fast food place unless she had to. Anyways, after how her day had gone, she needed a decent meal.

Needle spoke into both the communicator and verbally. You got it. Passing encryption key in case were being listened to and some image link files of the three pics we got.

If you can, try and find info on the three in the photograph. Maybe you can put the rest of the team on the payroll - but I might want to turn myself into one of these three. I could use some info on them though - voice data, background, video files. We might want to do a data search and see what we can turn up on them.

I'm kind of curious to check to see if we can't find those independant contractors who did the matrix recon - they might have some info on system vulnurability they could sell us if the Major runs into any problems. Not that I expect she can't get through it.



He added momentarily a private line over the commlink along with Johnson's response to his questions and the pictures he'd been given.

Zeke came about as close to actually appologizing as I've ever seen him do. Oh yeah, and Mr. Suit left his DNA and his prints on his wineglass if your interested. Just thought I'd mention =. ; )

His little message done, he looked around at the rest of his team.

Any other ideas?