Butterfly Kisses

So much to be annoyed with, so little time. Vanessa decided it would be most expedient to just ignore 'Mr. Johnson' and his pointless indignation, and that applied doubly so for Auburn and Taurus' apparent intents on imbibing alcohol immediately before departure on a mission (contemptible though that may be).

Instead she turned to Eva and nodded curtly. "Fery vell, I vill escort yoo out aff zee bar. I hat been plannink on tekkink a taxi bek, baht a rite voult be most appreeshiatet." She leaned back, away from the chair, and eyed the other inhabitants of the room one last time. "I hope to be seeink yoo all tomorrow mornink. Gute nacht." Then she walked out, holding the door briefly for Eva to follow.

<"Phir milangae.."> Murmurs Supra, pressing his hands together once again before dropping them. "In the morning, then."

He has no 'shopping' list to construct for the Johnsons; Not one he'll place in a public area, at least. The cloaked figure nods once towards Vanessa at her own farewell, and takes a moment to peer at the other 'Runners'. Whatever comment he might have, whether it be annoyance or acceptance, goes unspoken as he simply dips his head and begins to make his way outwards. He has to prepare; Both to pray and to check his equipment. His exit is as anonymous as his entrance, just easing his way outwards around the crowd. To rush is to draw attention, to hang about is to invite disaster.

Once he's off and home, and in far more comfortable surroundings? THEN his shopping list is sent to Mr. Johnson's itenerary, although quite light; Motion is going to be a lot more useful than trading.

>> Comm Status - Hidden
>> Beginning Transit
>>
>>
Camouflage net (Urban Decay)
20x Water Purifications Tablets
Protection Tent
4x Spyball
3x Laes
Copy of Ares Security Footage of Target being abducted, in chipset form.
>>
>> Sent.

Ghost shrugs and nods to Eva. It was probably safer for everyone if he left the meeting alone did not want anyone to think these people meant anything to him. That would be bad all around. Kenji and his thugs were not above hostages. He thought about that on his way out nodding to Auburn and Taurus everyone else seemed to have left. Kenji knew better then to take hostages, and he knew better then to involve outsiders. That however never seemed to stop him did it.

The thoughts drifted into thoughts of his adoptive sister Shizunae who taught him that there is value in honor, and that mercy is not for the weak. The rain pored down on ghost as he ordered a cab home. He awaited the cab and thought of her words to him.

"Forgiveness is honorable Manny" an the 18 year old Japanese girl dressed in gi and Hakima patted a 13 year old Ghost on the top of his head. He frowned and looked back at his adoptive brother Kenji Receiving high praise from the other students for winning the previous sparing match with Ghost. The tips of Shizunae's fingers trailed little Manny's chin to look upon her once more. As she smiled at him. "though it is not always deserved." she said, and he smiled at her.

Back in the real world of the present Ghost was shaken when the cab pulled up "You in or what!" a grungy Ork asked in a distasteful manner. "Yeah" Ghost said "I am"....

Auburn gives a quick nod of departure to everyone as the table begins to empty. Knowing how Taurus is about being among the last to leave, Auburn walks over to the wall near the door and reclines slightly, holding the door for most as they exit. She allows the grin of amusement to cross her face as Eva explains that she needs a chaperon while leaving. Eva was turning out to be downright amusing, and the situation in Chicago may actually, surprisingly, turn out to be quite useful with her along. Most men, and few women, can resist the little-girl-dimples...

"Wanna hit this place, or should we move on to another one?" Auburn asks to Taurus, leading him out the door when he is ready to go. This was a decent enough bar, and there wasn't much chance either of them would be in any particular shape to drop something important. Not with only 6 hours to recover. They would have to keep their drinking to a "work night" regimen.

"E'res good as anywhere." Taurus responds candidly enough. The large Minotaur getting up at last to move to join Auburn. "Might they even gots something decent at the bar here too." he notes, waiting for Auburn to lead the way, or suggest somewhere else to go. Taurus had no particular preference, and his going along with the suggestion of drinking here was more a matter of convenience.

Auburn walks up to the bar and orders for herself. She slots a credstick and nods to Taurus as well. "Gimme a local beer. Brown, good flavor, not too hoppy, not too bitter, not too dark, not golden. I'm'a cover his drinks too, this time." She says, grinning as she put her ridiculous hat back on. The brim was almost as wide as her shoulders, slender as they were. Taurus, of course, knew better than to think she couldn't carry her own weight. Especially after he had watched her run her paces with the Combat Axe.
"What'll it be T-Large?" She asks, nodding toward Taurus and waiting for his order. She gives half an eye and half an ear to the "entertainment" on stage, noting that the singing was actually quite talented, if you were into that sort of thing.

Taurus considers the available drinks before letting out a slight grunt "Tequila, n' iffn it's real even better." there is one thing he has to consider however, and that's where to go to sit. Not every place had suitable Troll sized furniture. Some places didn't want them around, others just.. didn't provide proper sized seating because of the added cost and they were too cheap to care. Of course most places often had some seating that would work for a Troll but he wasn't certain this was one of them.

Body roll as per GM request: Body 10 = 4 hits

As people start to leave, Eva slips back into her "cute little girl" persona. Slipping her hand into Vanessa's she smiles trustingly up at the woman, and starts walking towards the exit. As she reaches the front door, she smiles at the bouncer, saying "Thanks again, mister!" Moving on before he has a chance to say anything, she leads Vanessa to her car, where she gets into the drivers seat and darkens the windows. As she enters the passenger seat, Vanessa notices that the drivers seat and controls are configured and set up with pedal extenders and a thick seat cushion to allow somebody of Eva's size to safely and effectively operate the vehicle.

Starting up the car, Eva pulls it out of the side street where she had parked, and into traffic. Looking at her passenger, she says "All right then, where am I taking you?"


Edited to fit in before T_Hawk's post ~Dura

Rapidly Vanessa found herself reconsidering her initial estimation of her coworkers. The difficulty in getting in the front door to a UCAS bar while looking like a child was one she had not considered, but Eva handled it with practiced ease. Vanessa did her best to play the part of a parent, though she had a feeling she came off as stiff and unconvincing. Still, they made it out just fine, and Vanessa took a moment to admire the car, specially modified for Eva to drive it. Her mind went to thoughts on how it could be improved, using a rigger adaptation so the girl could control the vehicle without such an ungainly addition, but the system obviously worked for her.

When asked for a destination, Vanessa realized belatedly that she didn't remember the address for her apartment or, more importantly the parking garage where she had left the Roadmaster. Fortunately she was able to cover the slip-up long enough to check her 'link for the note she had left herself. "Ah, eet eez in Tecoma." She cursed her lack of an external commlink so she could show the address on a display screen, and instead read it out slowly, to make sure she pronounced it correctly. Having to admit to living in Tacoma was hardly something she enjoyed doing, but hopefully after this job she'd be able to afford to live somewhere nicer. It wasn't so much the conditions that bothered her; she had lived in worse. It was the air there, it carried an omnipresent odor thanks to the industrial sector in the district, and the smell permeated.

"I appreshiate zee rite, Eva. Like I set, I hat plant on takink a taxi, unt zees ees match cheaper unt zafer," she paused for a moment, thinking in silence. "How match do I owe yoo for zee rite?"


Continuing the scene ~Jon

Eva listens as Vanessa reads off her address - although she gives Vanessa a bit of an odd look for doing so, and quickly thumbs it into her own 'link, and as the address - and a map for how to get there - pops up along the left side of her contacts, she drives off, following the directions on the map. As she enters Tacoma, she changes the car's environmental systems to stop taking in outside air, and to re-filter the air it does use, to avoid as many of the exterior odors as possible. Hearing Vanessa's question, she thinks for a moment, then says "Why don't we make an arrangement of sorts? I have no great desire to take my car to Chicago, or to leave it parked at an airport for some great length of time. Also, driving past a security checkpoint might raise some questions which would be a bit harder to answer than those posed by the bouncer at the bar. Perhaps you could pick me up in the morning, on your way to the airport?"

As she proposes the idea, she calls up her own address and the local map of the Elven district and loads them into a file that she can transfer to Vanessa's commlink, assuming the other woman agrees to the plan.


Bam! ~Dura

That made sense to Vanessa, and she nodded in agreement. "Zertainly, alzough I doubt my fehicle vill be any less cahnspicuous zan yoors," she chuckled a moment, amused at the idea of driving a modified Roadmaster into an airport. "But I voult be happy to return zee favoor tomorrow mornink. One fehicle eez zafer enyvay." She sat in silence as they rode, considering the mission briefing and, more importantly to her, the team they had to work with. She had several questions and concerns, and considered discussing them with Eva to get the girl's take on the situation, but there would be time for that later. Perhaps she would be pleasantly surprised and the whole team would be competent and organized. Or maybe not.

After too long a silence, Vanessa turned halfway toward Eva, her attention still on the road. "Vat do yoo tink aff zees mission? Haff yoo effer been to Chicago before? Zee only tink I know about zee city eez vat I haff heart een zee news, unt I doubt all aff eet is troo..."


Ding ~Jon

Eva ponders the question for a moment. "No, I have never been to Chicago - I lived in France until two years ago, when I left the university to come here. I honestly doubt that the newsfeeds are completely accurate... but inaccurate in which direction, I wonder? I've been in this business long enough to always assume that I know less than I should. The job that you think you know everything you need to is the one that blows up under your feet - probably because of something you didn't know about. As for the mission... it seems straightforward enough. Rescue of a hopefully healthy person from a high-risk zone. Not really the type of job I specialize in, but I can understand why my skills will be useful. I'm a bit worried about the insect spirits... understand, I have no real knowledge of magical phenomena, but what little I've heard about them is all bad."


Hey, getchyer own color! ~Dura

That response only served to emphasize Vanessa's belief that they needed more information about their enemy. "I am vorriet too, about zees magic enemy. I haff learnt unt practist fightink militants, terrorists, unt ozer ahpponents, but zees bug tinks... I do not know. Eef bullets ken hurt zem, zen I vill be aple to do my part. Eef not... vee may be een trabble. I... just hope our magicians vill be aple to do zheir parts..." She fell silent again, thinking. Eva's point about her skills made Vanessa wonder what other aspects would be involved in this job, especially when it came to dealing with local authorities, Ares Macrotechnology specifically, if she recalled what the bull/troll 'runner had mentioned correctly.

They were nearing the parking garage quickly, and Vanessa resettled in her seat in preparation to point it out to her driver. The gesture was obviously unnecessary though, considering the electronic assistance that guided Eva to the address. "I vill drop by tomorrow mornink in an olt Ares Roatmaschter, eet zhoult be easy to recoknize. Let ahs zay, about fife tirty, zount goot?"


No! I like this one. ~Jon

Eva nods at Vanessa's question, and says "Yes, that should work well." As she says this, she sends the data file with her address and relevant information to Vanessa. Pulling up to the curb outside the garage, she pauses for a moment, then regards her passenger. "I can try to see if any of my contacts could acquire some of the ammunition you were interested in... what exactly were you looking for?"


Fine, be that way! ~Dura

"Vell, I voult be most interestet een armor-piercink ammunishun," she began, a hint of hesitation in her voice. "Tventy-millimeter calibre, caseless." She sighed and tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Eef yoo kennot fint eny, do not vorry. I haff zum ekschplosiff rounts vich may proof to be enaff. Baht... eet neffer hurts to haff opshuns, yah?"

The car door clicked open, her hand lingering on the handle a moment before she turned to glance at Eva. "Tank yoo again for zee rite... unt for helpink vit zee ammunishun. I vill be zeeink you in zee mornink." Only then did she push open the door and step out, walking into the shadows of the parking garage with only a single glance in either direction.

Auburn nods approvingly as Taurus makes his order. Since this was going to be one time in few, it didn't really hurt to pony up for the good stuff. Auburn sighed in obvious contentment as the brown liquid placed in front of her slid down her throat. Having spent enough time at bars throughout her life, and in the company of enough drinkers, she had developed a refined taste for a good beer. Not being particularly concerned with what or where the beer is from, she never bothered to formalize her taste.
"MmmmMMm... This is some good stuff." She said, not bothering to hide her appreciation. Whatever it was that the bartender had sent her way was clearly going to set her back a few creds, particularly knowing what a good microbrew was going for these days. Again, it was worth it.
"They give you the good stuff T?" She asks, peering over the edge of her beer glass, imagining in her head that it was an old-style pewter german beer stein.

OOC: Body 2

The member 'Gala' has done the following action : Dices roll

'D6' :

It had been three hours since Ghost had tried to contact Majesty. And he had received no word back. it was puzzling at best there were only a few things that would stop her from answering his call. One of them was Kenji but they had a system worked out, and he'd not received the proper distress call. So he put that out of his mind. The other was a romantic encounter. However unlikely as that was. He hoped that was what it was. Then he frowned that would acutely be unlike her. She would have said something like i wont be available. Oh well. But really it was not like her to not get back to him.

When he was done wondering he turned his attention to packing for what he was considering an extended mission taking various med kit supplies, and sharpening throwing knives. Neatly packing his fatigue suits.

That done he went into a meditative trance his body making steps and changes his arms flailing about in rhythmic patterns. Ghost went over kata's with precision for sometime. Beads of perspiration dripped from him and he stopped on his knees his stereo blaring electro sun also stopped. Manny took a one knee stance his arms shooting out from behind him producing three throwing knives. the music started again from its brief pause thump thump thump it prodded him to action he took another step forward with his downed knee the first knife left his hand in a blurring motion then another and another all three finding there targets across the room in the two in one target one in a second. Ghost twisted his hips and shoulders around his center. And ended up facing east. back to his knees.

His hands clasped before him he settled his mind no more worrying for friends. In Seeza position he knelt his head bowed low. The lighting blinked and Manny knew he was not alone. "Welcome Shidoshi Sanada" Ghost bowed low to the ground and did not rise until he felt the cool air brush the back of his neck. In his mind he herd You have a mission but something else troubles you. "Yes" Ghost whispered "My friend has not yet contacted me with word of supplies. She is a dear friend and i fear for her safety." YOU FEAR!?! "Forgive me I did not mean fear for myself" Do not fear for your friends Think only of the mission "There is no emotion, There is no past nor future, There is only the mission" Manny recited. Then he bowed low again his face a centimeter from the ground. As for your supplies. A ninja should be able to gather what he needs from his surroundings, and or carry what he needs to the mission, anything else is a luxury.Then the presence was gone as fast as it had come departing only a tid bit of info to Ghost. But it had lit a fire under him, and he felt renewed.

Manny took a shower Then got dressed in his black fatigues, and slipped on his half mask and vest. It was time to leave. He gathered his things by the door, called a cab. Shut the door behind him but first turned out the lights...

154th Street runs along the northern periphery of Sea-Tac Airport. The area around the airport was largely clear: The mass of the airport dominated everything to your left-hand side, while on the right are only a few grassy lots and low-lying buildings for nearly half a kilometer before the brilliant lights of the Seattle sprawl starts to climb back into the sky.

You take a turn-off to your left, and are stopped at a checkpoint. Luckily, rather than the typical airport security (complete with MAD scanners, chemical sniffers, and other assorted bits of fun), there is only a single gate guard. He approaches you and asks your business, to which you reply as Hubert had instructed. The guard nods, and points down the access road, pointing to a very large building next to the far run-way. He then opens the gate and allows you through.

As you approach the hangar, you see the huge mass of the C-130 filling the dark void of the hangar's doors. An older military plane, the C-130 was designed to drop heavy equipment such as tanks and artillery into dangerous landing spots. Although old, the craft is still impressive. This one has been painted in silver and blue, making it look more like a prop-driven air-liner than the old war-bird that it is.

Pulling into the hangar next to the gargantuan aircraft, you see the familiar face of Hubert standing under one of the large wings, puffing away at a cigarette with his hands stuffed into his pockets against the early morning chill. Getting out of your vehicle and walking over to you, the man nods to you and says, "Go ahead and get stowed away, chummer. Wheels-up in thirty. Once everyone's here, I'll go ahead and finish up your briefing before you leave."

Auburn stuffs a hand into her pocket, pulling out some paper Nuyen. She selects a few of the bills, enjoying, and letting it show, the show of old-time paper money. Leaning into the window on the passenger side, Auburn crumples the paper money up in her hand, clearly sticking with the appropriately hard-lined exterior she has on, today matching (at least somewhat) yesterday's getup. She thrusts her hands into the opening window of the cab and drops the freshly wadded paper into the outstretched hand.
"That shud cuver it." She says, resisting the urge to spit on the ground after she finished her statement, knowing that the cash she had just handed over would constitute not just payment, but also a substantial tip. She stands, turning her back on the Cabbie and pulls her canvas duffel bag over her shoulder. It's large lumps go nicely with her polished exterior. And by polished, of course, her look is so far from that it could only be equally intentional. She wears the same Jumpsuit as the night before. Today, however, she is wearing old military style combat boots and no hat. Further, she has what looks like black leather driving gloves pulled over her hands, and the sunglasses on her face nicely resemble the old flatvid styled "Aviators," which were strangely favored a good 80 years before, or so. It is hard to imagine where she got her hands on a pair of those these days without having had them custom made. They seemed to do the job, however, as they covered a good third of her face based on the enormous size difference between her and whomever they were originally designed for. Their reflective surface also effectively concealed any and all eye movements from sight, making it nearly impossible to guess what she was looking at, and even somewhat difficult to read her facial expressions. They looks every bit as absurd as the hat did the night before.
Auburn nods to the guard, answering his question as directed, and turns to walk down the road toward the hangar. She doesn't, however, walk. She saunters, like a male cat stalking a courtyard it has "owned" for it's adult life. Her movements, and body posture, resemble nothing more than a feudal lord looking down over his land. Mixing this with her girlish stature, and rediculous garb, resisting the urge to laugh out loud would be difficult.

"Yup. I'll jes go make meself cumfy." She says, responding to the Johnson, Hubert. "D'jou manage to git'cher hands on summa that Form Fitting Full Body Armor, or the Chameleon Suit?" She asks, probably just for the fun of it, since she already recieved the confirmation email, with the dimensions of her armor, as if to point out that she had forgotten to include her own dimensions originally. To be fair, he clearly was a pretty good guesser, even with the recordings he must have had to study. The Jumpsuit does a generally good job of hiding her extreme athletic fitness, and it would be easy to assume that her body had been somewhat "let go" considering her appearance behind the jumpsuit, and her apparent choice of careers. Magicians, in general, didn't maintain their fitness with the same degree of care as the other 'Runners out there. Auburn, of course, was an unobvious exception to that rule.

Ghost made his way threw the air port mostly geared up. Drawing probably more then one stare. After the guard pointed out where to go he moved as quickly as possible, to get out of the public area.

He nodded to the Johnson and looked for a suitable place to set down his backpack. When his eye caught the caution label on some canisters in the plain. KE IV the labels read. There were a few of them, and Ghost thought to himself Great! They got some stuff. At that point he makes his way out of the plain and back to the Johnson. "Hubert was it?" he says pointing at the man. "I see you took my advice on the KE IV. Well that's just great! Ill talk it over with the stand up types see what they want to do about a delivery system. Just wanted to say thanks for that. My own supply line went dry. Soo thanks." He nods to the man "Ill do my best" realizing he never did say that.

He then enters the plain and finds a window after nodding to Auburn he sets up his surround music but low so's he can hear whats going on in the room he's in. He considers the cans then taps Auburn on the shoulder pointing at the cans he says "What do you think should we just punch a whole in the cans and throw them or what?" taking out a knife he considers coating it....

Today would see Taurus showing up in considerably different attire than he'd worn the night before. The night before he'd had little more on for protection than his formfitting body armor, but today would see him decked out in almost his full kit, with anything that would draw too much attention kept in bags slung over the back of a massive troll sized Thundercloud Contrail, or.. at least it looks like it had once been one. Like most owners of that brand of vehicle, Taurus had his heavily modified to the point it was barely recognizable. Smart tires driven by a high horsepower multifuel engine encased in what had to be some pretty heavy armor plating completed the ensemble. Of course as he drove up to the airport he'd had his chameleon armor and bike's camouflage exterior set to deliberately try and conceal the added bulk, something that would pass perhaps for a quick inspection as he zipped past others on the road here, but it wouldn't hide the reality for more than two seconds at best standing still. Fortunately the spoofer ID and matched morphing plate would keep anyone from tracking his vehicle long enough to get it aboard the massive cargo aircraft.

Given the bulk of stuff awaiting him as he pulled up to the C-130, it turned out to be a rather good thing he'd had his bike. As it was, he wasn't sure how the hell he'd carry it all. Indeed he'd probably have to see about getting others to carry a few things long enough for him to get it to an appropriate safe house once at the other end, where upon he could conveniently dump everything he didn't need on his fellows, who could likely use the supplies. Hell with this much stuff, maybe he could just call up some one and arrange for them to pick it all up at the airport...

Well he'd worry about that when they got there.

"Morning folks."

"Cans? What're'ya talkin about?" Auburn says to Ghost as he peers about for a seat. The knife in his hand looks well loved, and well taken care of.
"Is there somethin' important in the cans ovah therr?" She said, looking interested. She was in the process of checking through the large, heavy-weight canvas duffel on her lap. The Combat Axe was sticking out of the top of the bag, since she had both arms in up to her elbow while she was doing whatever she was doing. Probably taking inventory, or something.
"Oh, hey." Auburn says with a grin at Taurus. "I'c'n see you managed to recover jes fien frem last night... Good thing too... Drivin' that therr hog wouldda been a good time with a hangover." Her grin grows; she is clearly amused by her own comments. She also, obviously, knew that Taurus was nowhere near affected by the booze he was kicking back, and wouldn't likely have been even after a full bottle.
"I saved you a seat." She says, her grin remaining. Since only the three of them were in so far, there were obviously far more seats than bodies at the moment.

Morning prayers were important. With his body contorted into the limb-loosening forms required of Hatha Vidya, Supra's mind was left to quiet itself. There was death in his future; That was a given. His own was inevitable as the turning world, and required no additional thought. Even if he survived to a ripe old age, his life would end. As always, his thoughts turned once more to the prize; Money. Money to purge his flesh of abomination. His eyes flutter open as the commlink quietly hums, the pre-set alarm ringing. Supra unfolds himself, and begins to quietly buckle on his various implements; The brush and palette for an artist of flesh and shadow. The application of his aghori ash mark was not without contemplation, however, as he considered the implications; Turning to a world of shadows to correct a holy punishment? Perhaps he was more of a heretic than he originally imagined.

That brought a quiet smile.

Ten minutes later, and Supra was driving along through the streets towards the rendezvous on his bike, a loaded backpack strapped behind him. His cloak and hood pinned closed to prevent it from flying away from his reptile features without blocking his view, his various weapons hidden up sleeves, along his hips, in his clothes. He slows as the massive Sea-Tac swallows the horizon to his left, and moves towards the gate; It was a novel idea, approaching from the front. Supra's hands remain tense on the throttle as he responds as the Johnson had instructed - and is rewarded with the obstruction being removed. Bemused, the hindi drives in and towards the designated gate, kicking his stand loose as he approaches and sliding from the bike.

"<Namaste>.." He greets the Johnson, his face hidden in the early morning shadow. And then, without further word, begins to walk his utilitarian bike along the ramp. Casting his hidden gaze across those already stowed aboard, and tilting his head once in quiet greeting. These are, after all, the people that will be bodies soon. If his expectations of this run are correct, at least. SOME respect is necessary. And now to find a place to lay the bike aside and strap it down.

The rumble of an overtaxed diesel engine marked the first sign of Vanessa's arrival in the early hours of the morning. She knew her Roadmaster wasn't remotely capable of any subtlety at all, and she capitalized on that, making no attempt to hide the boxy vehicle. Sometimes the best disguise was the one that left her out in the open. The same could not be said about the folded-up combat walker sitting in the back of the Roadmaster.

Her transport situation was one that frequently elicited a frustrated sigh from Vanessa, a product of necessity rather than preference or convenience. Never before, in Switzerland, had she needed to rely on subterfuge when transporting her Panzerkampfjäger. In fact, she had rarely arranged for its transportation herself, the team's support crew tending to that autonomously. But now she had no staffers to see to it, and that meant she had to do it all herself. Quite often she found that she missed those days, as one nostalgically regards a fond but concluded stage of their life.

A helpful tone and a flashing ARO brought Vanessa out of her reverie, snapping her back into the present, and the end of their trip. Or rather, this leg of it. She was glad that she managed to bypass any sort of security, just the lone guard who quickly waved her on. That demonstrated some level of confidence in Mr. Johnson, but then again he should be adept at sending groups off by now, considering Mr. Q's apparent willingness to throw misinformed and ill-prepared teams into Chicago. All she could hope was that this would be the final attempt at recovering his daughter, for the team's sake as much as her employer and target's.

She glanced over at Eva in the passenger seat, smiling ruefully for a second at the lack of an adaption for her small frame. "Zorree zee accomodashuns are not fery appropriate for yoo. Baht, vee are here," she announced as she popped open the door and slid out, her Roadmaster parked just outside the hangar, off to the side where it wouldn't be in the way. It would still probably need to be moved, but at least it was out of the way if they had to take off on sudden notice.

The group appeared to be all gathered already, apparently the detour to the Elven District had set her behind more than she expected. The lapse in punctuality was irritating, but acceptable. After a brief hesitation to check if Eva needed any help getting out of the tall vehicle, Vanessa called up the remote control for the oversized mechanical contraption built into the back, setting in motion a string of events that would open up the Roadmaster and shift the combat walker hiding inside into ready mode. Time to get loaded up and move out.

Eva pops the door open and slips out easily, obviously accustomed to dealing with vehicles designed for larger people. Pulling her backpack out and slipping it on, she closes the door, and walks over to the group. With a cheerful "Hi!", she takes a seat, and waits for Hubert to finish the briefing, and wire them their advance.

Hubert watched with obvious interest as the large walker drone unfolded from the opening bay of the Roadmaster. The entire rear end had peeled open, roof and walls peeling back on hydraulic hinges, and the large walker vehicle slid out on top of a section of the flooring, which rolled down over the ramp at the back. Once it had cleared the space where it had been held, the machine lifted up. The reverse joints on the legs slid up, and the machine assumed a fully upright position.

Hubert whistled softly. Motioning to Vanessa and Eva, he walked into the cargo hold of the C-130 and called everyone to him. "Alright, I'm glad to see everyone made it. I know I wasn't able to get all the equipment everyone wanted; I simply didn't have enough time before we had to meet back here. I hope what I did get will do for you all though."

He takes a portable holoprojector from his pocket and hands it over to Supra. He then took out his comm and spends a moment keying in instructions to it. "I've got a recording of the footage taken by the Ares drone on the projector. I've also just sent the same footage to all of your 'links, along with a mapsoft of Cermak compiled from satellite imagery.'

'Now, given that that footage was acquired through... non-official means from Ares, the copies I've sent to all of you are set to decay after around four hours. That means that you'll only have access to it for about the amount of time you'll spend in the air between here and O'hare. The copy saved on the projector doesn't have the self-deletion program on it." He looks round at the group, meeting everyone's eyes (or guessing at where the eyes should be, since Supra's hood left his face in shadow). "Letting Ares get a hold of that footage could cause some issues, so you need to be certain that doesn't happen. Destroy it if that seems like it could be a possibility. Understood?"

'I've included the name of the Ares researcher who sent us the footage, as well as the LTG link through which we communicate with him. We've not been able to get a hold of him since we sent the payment for the footage to him, but if you need more info about the footage, he's the only way." Hubert shrugs apologetically at this. "I know we're sending you all off with little info or prep, but I think you can all understand why, given the mission and what started all of this."

"Your flight will only take about four and a half hours, at which point you'll set down at a rented hangar at O'hare International. O'hare is under government control, and is kept secure with a heavy military presence, along with corporate militia teams." He puts a hand into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a sheath of papers. "These papers will help you get through the security checks with minimal hassle. They set you all up as a team of security consultants for a dummy shipping firm that operates out of Gary. We've tried to establish fake SINs for each of you, but with the limited amount of time we've had to put this together, I don't think that they'll stand up to close scrutiny.
I've sent copies of these papers to your 'links, but keep the papers on you at all times. The matrix in Chicago is hit or miss, so old-fashioned hard-copies are necessary there.'

'I would suggest that if any of you have SINs, legitimate or not, that you send that information over to my comm, and I'll print out some additional papers for you before you leave. Doing so would help your cover in case you find some government red-tape type pouring over your credentials." He pauses. "I understand that giving your SIN out is a major risk for you, so I'll understand if any of you pass on this. But as I said, it would definitely help your cover. Our people have worked hard on this cover, but, like this whole fraggin' mission, it was a rush job."

He takes a breath. "Once you're in Chicago, you're on your own. You'll have to get into the CZ and then find the target. I wish we had more to give you, but... well." He shakes his head slightly. "Once you find the target, you'll have to get out of the CZ and contact us. Included in that file are a couple of one-use LTG links for that purpose. When we hear from you, we'll begin moving to extract you all and bring you back here."

He takes a deep breath. "That's it. Any questions or concerns?"

"...Destroy it if that seems like it could be a possibility. Understood?"
"I think I'c'n take care of that..." She says, allowing a small ball of crackling bright blue light to appear above her palm, before releasing the spell and closing her hand. "I have come to understand that lightning is somewhat bad for electronics..." She says, grinning slightly.
Auburn doesn't even hesitate. If the Johnson wanted to kill her, not having her SIN wasn't going to dissuade him at all, nor would it slow him down in any reasonably advantageous ways. She touched a button on her 'link, and started to flick her fingers across the virtual keyboard that only she could see. In a matter of moments, Hubert's commlink blinked with a message from Auburn including her SIN, her direct personal measurements, and a recent photograph of her face in high resolution to allow for maximum efficiency in facial recognition management programs.
"I am pretty surr that the message I jes sent yer way shudd have most'a wat'cher gunna need." She looks to the rest of the group. "If you don' mind my opinion on the matter, havin' a dude actively workin' ta keep yer cover live is uh good thing. Give 'em what ever they need to make it work." She nods to herself. Looking back to Hubert, Auburn asks the obvious question.
"Did'ja manage ta convince them sec. types that we're bringin' in a whole bunch'a good stuff?" She asks, nodding toward all the cargo already loaded. And the walker...

Taurus considered the request for a SIN a little odd, but then with a shrug sent over his own information. He had little if anything to actually hide from anyone as far as he was concerned. Technically he'd never done anything illegal, at least that was on record anywhere that he knew of. He actually still tried to think of himself as a pretty straight arrow despite his recent involvement with runners both this group and those back in Chicago. That said he realized the line was always getting just a little bit more blurry as time went on.

None the less he turned his attention to getting his motorcycle properly secured for the trip. "I'd suggest our first stop once we get to Chicago is to drop in on some friends of mine, I can likely help get us setup with a decent place to work out of while we do our thing. Hell if were lucky they may even have some place to hold up in, in the CZ if we make it worth their while. But I wouldn't bet too much on it. Still worth ask'n though."

Hubert raises an eyebrow at Auburn. "You mean the security guards on the access road?" He chuckles. "Actually, it's not all that uncommon for individuals such as yourselves to use this part of the airport." Reaching into a pocket, he pulls out his cigarettes and lighter. Puffing one into life, he continues, "This isn't actually part of Sea-Tac proper. Well, it is and it isn't. This part of the airport is rented out to private contractors, and isn't under the same administration as the rest."

Pausing to consider, he adds, "The legalities are a little involved, but it has to do with the extra-territoriality of mega-corps. There are plenty of companies bringing personnel and material through Seattle, right? If it all had to be run through the red-tape your average flier encounters just trying to get from point A to point B, it would really slow things down to a standstill, neh?'

'To avoid that, the airport rents out runway and lot space. In essence, this part of the runway exists beyond the laws of the UCAS... to an extent." He motions behind him, out into the hangar. "If you wanted to stick your head out the back there, you'd notice an individual with a datapad taking notes. He's an inspector from the government, and the only red-tape we have to go through." Hubert grins. "Luckily, since we shouldn't have anything on board that we're not licensed to move, all that should come from him is an 'okay' when we're ready to wheels up." Hubert chuckles, then takes a deep drag on his cigarette. "That answer the question?

Ghost did not want to ruin the mission. He watched as the other runners sent there com info to the Johnson. He stared at the man measuring him. could he trust him he approached the man with his hands typing in AR. Assembling the info asked for before sending it he spoke. "This data is not given lightly sir".... He paused I trust this will not fall into the wrong hands." Ghost made a grab and toss motion in the mans direction. in that moment Hubert's com beeped.... he was not trying to be rude but he figured it might have come off that way. he just wanted to convey the gravity of the situation to the Johnson. plus he did not want to be the reason the mission failed be cause they were not consistent.

He considered Taurus. He and auburn had mentioned connections in chi town. As well as the cowled weird skin guy. And he still had no delivery system for the bug juice as he was now affectionately calling the KE IV. He looked at the team and took the moment to let them know. He put his foot on top of one of the canisters and adjusted his mask and spoke to the group. "Guys and Gals this is the chemical i spoke of that screws with the bugs. Best i could think of. Problem! we have no delivery system. so something to think about on the way. stuff works its just how do we use it. I was thinking of coating knives with it but that is a last ditch effort. Some of you gunner types might have something more interesting. I don't know as we don't have time for it now we should thank Hubert for the chemicals and think about calling who ever you guys know in town just a suggestion"... with that he strapped in...

The commentary about the holoprojector being destroyed rather than captured pulled no response from the reptile man; None were needed, as the instructions were quite clear. Instead, Supra's hands dip beneath the confines of his robe once again, the projector disappearing into the armored folds beneath the dark cowl. And then he tilts his head a moment at the arrival of papers, which are once again gripped in his hands and carefully sorted through. For the simple purpose of determining where to start studying up, in the event of issues arrising. With a faint nod, these papers are also neatly folded into a booklet and tucked away as well, before Supra turns that xeno gaze towards Hubert.

"A name is power. Be careful that such a thing does not spill from lips to ears that need not have it." Red images etch themselves across his retinae from the contacts he uses, a quiet gesture of a hand within the AR sending his own fake SIN slipping into Hubert's.

>> SIN Business Card
>>
>> Name: 'Fajeet Muhammad'
>> SIN: TUR-0334-122
>> Occ: 'Pest Control/General Contractor'
>> Rel: 'Bhakti'
>>
>> Transmission Sent.

The red pupils are torn aside as a new distraction makes itself known; Vanessa, and her giant walking combat machine. The hindi's head tilts once more, decidely un-mammal in it's motions, before he once more turns to Hubert. "Your ... faith ... is not ill-placed. What there is to return will be returned." Supra takes one more glance at the monstrosity of Vanessa's war machine, before quietly moving for his own seat.

. o O (One prepares for war. Another for camping. Does the solution lay between these two extremes?) O o .