Loose Ends

Lin walks out of the cabin, nods to Mr. Johnson, and takes a seat. She's dressed in a pair of loose blue jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, and has a pistol holstered on her right hip. Sitting down next to the others, she grins at her employer. "A rush job like this? You know as well as we do that we're going to have to cut corners on getting this done, and that means extra expenses - you are going to be reimbursing us for such, aren't you? Also, since your primary concern is that your cargo isn't noticed, it shouldn't be that great a loss if a minor investigation is triggered which doesn't amount to anything - I would say that's worth a 20% reduction in fee at most, not the 40% you're stipulating."

The cat suddenly sits up upon seeing the new arrival.

"hER!"
"HEr!"
"her."

The cat resumes grooming himself.

Arpey listened to both requests, nodding solemnly. He had expected some demands from the newcomers, but he had hoped the one 'runner he had secured before just a few minutes ago would be a bit more supportive of his terms... it's not like they were new to her. Still, he understood this stage of the negotiations, and he knew the importance of participating in it.

Turning first to Lin, he shook his head firmly. "The 'reduction,' as you call it, is not so I nor my client can save some nuyen. It is to make sure you understand the importance of what is at stake here. I would like nothing more than to pay you the entire twenty thousand a piece, but that reward is not for doing a half-baked job. I don't want you going in thinking it is alright for you to be sloppy and get noticed... Even if you do set up some distraction, it does not insure that your main goal will be obscured. I want you to do this right, to not be spotted at all. Do that, and you won't have to worry about any reduction. The lower amount should be your fallback, to cover the worst case scenario, not your primary goal. I hope that is clear..."

That unpleasantness out of the way, he realized it was time to make some concessions. "That said, I want you to succeed. I know this is short notice, and again... I'm sorry it had to be done this way. Since that can't be helped, I'll do everything I can to assist you in this task." He turned to Bruddah, nodding his appreciation of the ork's to-the-point attitude and obvious experience. "I probably shouldn't do this, but I will disclose the map and personnel records about the site that we- my client has on file. It is up to date, although it hasn't been verified as one hundred percent accurate. In other words, you can trust it, but keep your eyes open."

He leaned back and patted the suitcase carefully. "As for the package, no, it's not explosives. It is fragile, however. Inside are four glass containers filled with liquid, so be very careful with it. The case has discreet armor and structural reinforcement, plus a layer of very secure padding, so it should survive a fall from up to five feet. But don't push your luck."

"And finally... yes, I will cover extra expenses, up to a ten thousand nuyen advance." Very slowly, he reached into his pocket to remove a credstick, and placed it cautiously on the table with a quiet 'clink.' Never paid to be careful with shadowrunners, especially ones with no qualms about displaying weaponry in the open. "You'll find the funds on there, and I'm sure you will only spend it on necessities for the mission," he glanced grimly at the team, before cracking a slight smile. "If not, consider the rest a bonus to be divided up amongst yourselves."

Ten thousand nuyen, sitting right there in front of him. All he had to do was pop the skulls on the rest of the Runners, and it was his in the bag.

But then, what about reputation? That was worth a helluva lot more than 10k, no matter the situation. Get a bad rep, and you'll starve; Not even that much nuyen lasts forever. Bruddah grunts a moment, working his tusked jaw again, before nodding at the Johnson.

"A'ight, fella. Dis de part ya'll wanna head on up fron' fo' a moment." He states. The monkey had been about as up front as he'd ever experienced; Had to give him credit for that. "Trus' me on dis. Ya'll don' wanna hear whut commin' next." He then turns to his other 'partners' in this, and blows out a breath through his broken nose. Before speaking.

"Folk call me Bruddah. If it runnin', I ken pull 'er down. Heart beatin' or not. Time t' ante up and figgur out iffin we gonna split it, o' jes' pile it togetha fo' de gear. And what we gonna do fo' it." He points a big, thick finger at Gwydion. "Yo up."

Arpey nodded his acceptance at Bruddah's insistence. "Yes, of course. I will let you discuss it amongst yourselves. Please get me when you've come to a decision." He stood, taking the suitcase with him, but paused at the entrance to the yacht cabin. "Take as long as you need, but I would prefer if you informed me as soon as possible. If these terms are unacceptable to you, I will need to find a new team and time is... woefully short." With that he bowed once and closed the door behind him, leaving the team to talk in peace as the harbor widened and the yacht turned leisurely towards the north, headed slowly in the general direction of Puget Sound.

"Im up for it" he replies shortly "I'm Colton, I have a little bit of a background in black ops... and im fair to middlin at the silent stuff but ill do my best to follow suit." looks around to the rest of the group. "i have gear for distractions already if needed and for silent running so I really can't think of any gear i would need"

The cat ceased to preen, settling down to nap. Eyes close.

A voice, speaking without sound, conveying not entirely with words, whispered for Arpey's ears. "You are being followed and watched, Mr. Johnson. You knew this. Otherwise you would not have made such extensive preparations. Why? And will we be watched as you are? Rid me of ignorance, Mr. Johnson, or present more coin."

I simply sit, and study all the other 'guests' on this yacht while thinking about how crazy this run sounds... And who is this new guy? No matter, for the time being we are all on the same side. Mr. Johnson filled us in pretty well about our task, but the sum we are receiving seems low... There is something going on here, and I am going to find out. The wind chills my skin as I peer off into the distance, thinking about tonight. Forward observation would be the best thing to do in a situation like this... and silently and invisibly watching is what i do. Brudda doesn't seem too light on his feet, I hope we can figure something out about that.

Speaking of him, "Brudda, I could care less what you do with the table scraps on that credstick" I announce sharply.

Interior closed quarters combat and maneuvering... Luckily I got extensive training in MOUT and intrusion and extraction techniques, which will indirectly help out here most surely.

"Hey, you guys. So I have been thinking about this run, from what I know so far. Where do all your strengths lie? If we all lay our cards on the table, I think we might have a good shot at figuring out a damn swift plan. I'll start..." I fill them in on my combat history and specific knowledge in S.T.A. rural and urban and operating in closed in corridors with speed and precision. I guess we will see what everyones working with.

Arpey bolted up in his seat in the cabin, his eyes darting about the room. Luckily he was alone, otherwise he might feel foolish addressing the air. "Who is this, are you the cat sleeping on the deck? What game are you trying to play! You have a lot of nerve, you know that? You make up some mysterious observer to scare me and then demand more money for your 'service'?!" Arpey took a deep breath, returning to his normal calm demeanor. "You have a job to do, quit these games and get to it, and you'll be paid, same price as everyone else. Otherwise, get off the boat: we don't have time for this."

A gentle laugh. "An interesting reaction, Mr. Johnson. Very well, we'll play it your way. Only one more question, then, if you will permit me. If those men are watching you, will they watch us as well? If we are to avoid notice, it would be good to know whose we are avoiding."

"There are, no, men..." Arpey bit out every word, counting to ten to keep his tone even. "But... if you have people following you, then please excuse yourself from this group. I can't have this mission failing because you are too conspicuous for this sort of subterfuge."

"Intriguing...." And with that, the presence is gone.

On the deck, the cat stirs, his eyes slightly open.

"Huh."

Grunts Bruddah, rubbing a thumb along one of his tusks as he peers at both Trigger and Colton. "S'good. But dis'ractin' ain't gonna help us none, lessen we can make it easy t' mistake fer somethang else when dey git dere. Best way not t'meet 'em at all. Even we give 'er guards a lil' nap time, dat -still- a re'port, an' dat still half my damn pay." Bruddah crosses his thick arms again, grey eyes flicking back to Trigger again. "Huh. Den we jes' split yo share up 'mongst de rest of us?" There is a dark little chuckle, before Bruddah's somber bass rumbles again.

"I figgur we needs us a wire jockey. Sum'body able t'get dey self 'round de system, pull folk in de udder direction. Sum'buddy ain't gonna go prying in no files 'till we -tells- 'em too. 'Cause, second part o' dis is iffin we git found out, dey gotta be lookin' in 'nudder way. Data crunch sound real fine t' me. Iffin none ya'll folk is coded up, may time come t' hire us a one jes' fer dupin'." He glances back down to the credstick, thinking for a moment.

"Mebee fo' seven thousand. Dey gonna want mo', and dat way we ken offer it. Aftah de usual belly achin'. Ain't bad pay when all dey gotta do is keep 'em busy, wit'out crackin' nuttin'."

Soft laughter wafts into the minds of those present. "'Wire jockey'. I will need to remember that one." The voice was soft-spoken, precise, slightly rough, and less heard than thought by the gathered runners. "Infiltration will be tricky, but doable. Of this I have no doubt. A more immediate concern is the fellows tailing our employer. I am uncertain if you have noticed, but our Mr. Johnson was being quite thoroughly watched on the pier."

While the group was discussing their plans, the air above the glass table leapt outward, surging with light as the built-in holoprojector filled the spot with a graphic, a building layout by the looks of it:



(Although not visible, note that only the southern wall has windows to the outside, the other three walls do not.)

Along with the map was a small note:

Employee Breakdown
Management: 2
Manual Laborers: 5
Office Workers: 9
Security Personnel: 4 (3 on location, 1 remote worker on standby)
Researchers: 4

Lin gives the cat a bit of a surprised look, then shrugs. Examining the map for a moment, she says "I agree that getting a hacker of some kind to help would be a good thing... Probably the best bet would be to have them shut down the security alarms and use the cameras to track the security personnel for us... if there's a camera feed being monitored somewhere, we'd also probably want to have them run a loop from before we show up, so that we don't appear on any monitors. I don't think we want to do anything that would alert the guards unless we have to - anything of that nature risks an investigation. That having been said, it seems to me that this group is overly... large for a covert run like this - wouldn't it be better to send in two, maybe three people with the package, while the rest remain outside in case they need extraction?"

Bruddah nods once to Winged Crane, and grunts. "S'what I was thinkin'. Dat, o' break de package down 't fou' parts. Easiah t' hide, since dey ain't even s'pposed t' see de briefcase. But if de Johnson hirin' dis many folk, and we already gonna outnumber de security, den dere somethang he ain't tellin' us. Somethang might gonna -need- dis many folk."

Bruddah straightens up again, glancing over to the cat, but doesn't say anything about words in his head. Generally speaking, it's a good idea not to tell folks when you get someone chatting up in your skull. Especially if it ain't your voice doing the chatting.

"'Sides. Ain't gonna complain, iffin he really -didn't- need dis many, an' we gits 'em anyway. I ain't footin' de bill fo' de extra muskle." Bruddah works his tusked jaw for a moment, looking across the group again. Daisy eaters, smoother monkeys, and a damn cat. Worse. Group. EVER.

"Huh. But dat anothah point. Iffin ya'll jes' got ping like -I- jes' got ping, we may be have somebody follerin' along our Mistah Jay. Which mean, we may have somebody follerin' along us. Don' know 'bout ya'll folk, but I ain't 'zactlly happy t' be spied upon whennit may be riskin' half our pay." A glance towards the Map, now, before Bruddah nods. "So. Ideas on de run isself, and on dis.. uh.. foller?"

The soft voice resumes. "A touch of mind control may help clear things up regarding our little stalkers. As for the delivery, we need more information. This is insufficient. Once we have the address, I shall see what I can find via projection."

Smolder rages. "tHIS JoB rEEKs oF TREAcHeRY! wHy DO yOu PeRsIsT tO PArTiciPATe iN ThiS deBACle?"
Sand laughs. "i think we all know why."
Scald sighs. "sUcH aN OLd FAShioNeD FELLow oUR mAsTeR Is."
Kit ignores them.

"well im defenitly good for the silent entrance..." he looks at the rest of the group "with so many people in a building like this we might have a bigger problem with this." he looks at the cat "can you do invisibility? if you can we could probably get in and hide it fairly easily with the right silencing equipment" shrugs "unless they have watcher spirits around that will be a royal pain in the behind"

Big Bad Bruddah grunts for a moment, looking at the map. There were a few things that he needed, that they weren't going to get without commitment.

. o O (Suppose now's a good a time as ever.) O o .

He straightens up again, and speaks to the group. "I s'pose, since we's already plannin' dis anti-heist, dat it be fair an' proper t' say ya'll is intr'ested. I tink I go tell Mistah Jay dat we all in, so we ken git ourself some -actual- info, radder dan jes' pissin' in de wind wit'out knowin' de where an' de why. Iffin one ya'll folk -ain't- in fo' it.." Bruddah flicks a thumb over his shoulder, towards the water.

"Dat yo' exit."

He's going to wait a moment for any complaints, before moving towards the front - and the Mister Johnson. To give the news that they're all in, so they can finally get the 'who' on the other side of the drop-off.

A velvet chuckle. "I have no objections to moving forward, despite my reservations regarding our employer." A pause. "I am still concerned about that surveillance, however. When I asked him about it, he acted like he didn't know about it and accused me of fabricating it." Radiated amusement. "A strange accusation. I wish I knew if he were lying, but he hid his motives well. I sensed irritation and growing doubt, nothing else. I shall go along with this, but I warn you all that there will be more to this than meets the eye. Make your decisions accordingly."

Lin stands, smoothing the back of her sweatshirt. "If there are outside observers to work around, then splitting the team may be even more advantageous. One team can infiltrate the facility with the cargo, the other can distract the observers, and possibly intercept and question them. Besides which, that task may be more suited to those among us less skilled at... subtle maneuvers."

Bruddah leaves the keebs and the smoothers to talk amongst themselves as he approaches the room in which Johnson went. He then raps on the paneling with those thick, heavy knuckles of his, and speaks very briefly.

"Whar in, Mistah Jah. Bettah come give us de rest o' it, so we can git on 'bout solvin' ya'lls lil' problem." He works his tusked jaw for a moment, then turns and heads back towards the little impromptu meeting on the deck. Speaking as he goes.

"Ain't bad idea, sendin' de heavies t' deal wit' de follars. Lessen' dis fellar who say he be a wizzer ken take 'em on he own." A soft snort through a broken nose, and Bruddah pulls the brim of his hat a bit lower. "Less wise, keep 'em busy fo' a bit."

The wait was long and torturous for Arpey, sitting in the cabin with his elbows on his knees, eyes cemented to the suitcase. If this didn't work out, he would need to find another team, and every minute that slipped by made that seem less and less possible. In the case of a rejection Arpey resolved to interview the team to determine the reason for their decision. He couldn't afford to let this learning opportunity to go to waste.

Then came the knock, and the moment of truth. Arpey stood, taking a deep breath to steel himself, and started walking toward the door. But before he even cleared it, he heard Bruddah's announcement, and granted himself a moment to sigh with relief. Finally, something wasn't going wrong.

Arpey joined the others on the deck, squinting momentarily as he took in the glistening emerald waters. Everything looked much brighter on this side of the process. "I'm very glad to hear that. I want you to know that I don't need to hear your plans; I've laid out my wishes and requirements, and I trust you to come up with an appropriate plan. That said, I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have, and fill you in on the other details. Your contact's name is Craig Cane, and you're set to meet him at 9:30 PM tonight. The warehouse is located at 5950 North 9th Street, in Tacoma. Here's a picture of the man you will be meeting, so you can recognize him." He turned to the holo projector in the table and issued a mental command, replacing the layout of the building with an image of a human male.

"I... trust you can figure out how to find the place on your own?"

Bruddah turns as the Johnson comes back out, gives the 'when', 'where', and 'who'. Then narrows his grey eyes, peering intently at the smoother monkey; He had to train himself to tell the difference, they all looked alike. Fat faces and baby teeth. He then grunts, rubbing a thumb along his hard jaw and it's forward jutting chin.

"He gonna be waitin' in any place part'clar, er we gonna hafta look all ovah de drekin' place fo' dat boy?"