[Jack_Spade]

Isaint groaned inwardly as Al went for the confrontational approach. But then, this was Al and Al had this weird charisma that made you stay just to see what would happen next. So Isaint just got himself casually into position to interfere should the guy pull a weapon.
Otherwise he'd just wait for a sign to interfere - either on Al's or the mark's behalf.

Wernström surprised Isaint by smiling at the little man's behavior: "Oh boy, careful, you go on like that and I'll get an erection. If you are spoiling for a fight I can assure you I've got something much, much better here." He pulled out a small one pill blister with a little green sphere and put it in Al's front pocket.

[Mercy Merchant]

The valet at Jarvin's opens the cab's door and assists Robyn and Greg out onto walkway.  Greg offers his arm to the Keeb and they walk up the covered red carpet to the entryway, which a doorman already has open for them.  His smile and greeting come off far less rehearsed than Robyn believes them to be, which is a good sign of a professional establishment.  The interior of the restaurant is very posh with subdued lighting and carpeted floors.  The maitre d'  opens his arms as if to greet long-time patrons and snaps his fingers to get a hostess to take them to their table after verifying that this is indeed the Samantha Scott party.  Greg follows behind Robyn and his eyes never really leave her butt as she walks to the table.  A waiter is already in place and has Robyn's chair pulled out for her.  She thanks the man and gives Greg a careful look as the wine steward appears from nowhere, but she need not have worried as Greg does everything correctly.  Soon the waiter is back to hand a menu to Greg and the wine steward brings a bottle of some very nice wine.  Meals are ordered and Robyn engages Greg in small talk, mostly about gambling and some of the outrageous things that have happened to either of them, either inside a casino or on the matrix.

Dinner is excellent and Robyn takes the opportunity to slip her leg across to Greg's and rub up and down it a few times, bringing a knowing smile to the man's face.  Robyn is one of the hottest women in the restaurant and he is damned sure getting lucky tonight.  Robyn had made sure to stop at the hotel desk after buying the dress to get some currency nuyen to cover various expenses for the evening and giving very generous tips in cash to the various waiters and stewards is easily covered.  The final bill is discreetly paid by slotting a credstick and the two are back on the street, where the valet tips his hat and offers to summon a cab.  Robyn shakes her head.  "No, thank you very much.  I think it is a very nice evening and I would like to walk to the casino as it is not far."

Greg nods and he escorts Robyn away from the eatery.  The walk is indeed not far and they are at the casino entrance in just a few minutes.  The doorman tips a tall hat and holds the door for them as they enter into a far different and noisier world.  Robyn and Greg look out at the casino floor before walking to the teller's cage to exchange nuyen for chips.  She notices a sign at the teller's cage that indicates that matrix monitoring is ongoing for the security of the patrons.  Robyn smiles to herself and makes sure that her drones are shut down and resting in her hair and reminds herself that hacking the machines is not likely to win her any friends here.  She does not need to have an issue here tonight.  She exchanges 50000 nuyen for chips, an amount that causes Greg's eyes to widen a bit as he takes 20000 against his line of credit.  There are a few moments of unease as the teller hesitates to provide the chips to Greg but then nods her head and does so.  Robyn smiles to herself as they head out to the floor; she had spent a good part of the dinner meal ransacking Greg's 'link and had found a number of messages from the casino about some serious overdrafts on his credit limit.  He is apparently already in debt to the tune of 33000 nuyen and the management is getting a bit antsy about getting their money.  She is not surprised that they have given the teller the green light to give him a bit more rope, after all, his wife is a wealthy woman and can certainly cover his debts. 

She smiles at Greg and pushes close to him as they walk through the crowded main room.  They spend a few minutes walking from table to table, getting a feel for the games then Greg nods to one of the roulette tables.  "That one has a nice feel to it.  I have been fairly successful there over the past week.  Fancy giving it a small whirl?"

Robyn nods. "Why not?  I prefer craps, but the evening is young.  Lead on."  She knows that he is lying to her, but that will only work in her favor.  They walk over to the long table and find spaces at the rail.  The man at the wheel nods to them, welcoming Greg as if he were an old friend.  Robyn bets carefully and is only down 5000 when she suggests that perhaps they might have better luck at another game.  Greg, already down over 7000 nods his head and ruefully agrees.  They toss chips to the man at the wheel and mover on to one of the craps tables.  The next hour slips by as if in a few minutes.  At the end of that time, Robyn is back up 2000 for the night but Greg is down another 4000.  After ignoring Robyn's advice on betting, he realizes that his own method is not doing well and begins to bet as she does, winning a bit back.  Robyn asks the croupier if there is a table with nigher stakes and he nods, offering to call one of the floor managers over.  She nods and after a short conversation, the two are escorted to a semi private room where the decor is more opulent and the patrons better dressed.  The lighting and the noise are both more subdued and the expressions on the faces of those gathered around the table are serious.  Robyn glides up to the table, followed by Greg, who has a deer in the headlights sort of expression as he realizes that this is a level of gambling he has not seen before.

Quiet voices direct the placement of bets and no one is being annoying by clicking their chips together as is completely common in the main room.  Greg gulps as he looks at the table and realizes that he barely has enough money to make more than a few bets and he seriously considers taking his date's arm and leaving, but she is already ensconced on one of the stools around the table and does not look like she is ready to leave.  He places a bet in one of the places that Robyn does and is gratified when it pays off, extending the time he can remain in the room.  Every toss of the dice is not a winner for them, but slowly the piles of chips in front of each grows to a more than respectable size.  Greg's bets are much smaller that Robyn's so he loses and wins less, but he wins more than he loses.  He gets a bit excited at a large win but calms down when Robyn puts a hand on his arm and smiles at him.  Finally, Robyn signals that she is done and Greg opens his mouth in disbelief.

"We are on a hot streak.  We can't just walk away."

Robyn smiles and shakes her head.  "Of course we can, Greg.  Things have been going too well and the luck is bound to change.  Besides, I have different plans for how I wish to spend the rest of my night."

Greg shakes his head twice then nods. "Alright, you are the boss.  I don't know how you do it, but that was some sharp betting."

Robyn smiles again.  "Just luck, Greg, just luck."

Greg snorts in disbelief as they tip the croupiers and leave the room as winners.

[adamu]

Al grinned and hauled the taller man back up to his feet.

His plan had been to provide an in for Isaint, give the ork a chance to come to the mark's rescue, win some instant trust. But the guy had handled the situation rather smoothly himself. Good news on two fronts - it suggested he may indeed be someone useful, and it meant Al would not have to be punched by his large friend.

"Well, at least ya ain't no pussy." He fished the blister out of his jacket pocket, opened it, and popped the dose without a moment's hesitation, washing it down with a slug of beer. Of course he had, in fact, palmed the drug, but there was little chance of Wernström noticing - Al was very good with his hands. Just a reverse of his usual appearing-cigarette trick, really. "This kicks in, we'll see if it's worth a pass on what ya done ta my boots. What say you an' me scope some poon while we wait fer the jury ta come back?"

It wasn't really a request, and Al steered the man toward some seats at the stage. On the way there, he passed Isaint, discreetly handing the drug on to him. Then, Wernström still in front of him, he tapped a simple message on the 'link in his pocket: <<Find out what that's supposed to be doing to me.>>

Then he sat beside the mark as a young girl named Trixie took the stage wearing nothing but whipped cream. Al watched her with half an eye, the rest of his attention on whether Wernström had any discreet protection hanging about.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint gave the pill a sniff and a lick before pocketing it.
<<According to the label it's some pain med, morphine based. Never heard oft it. Seems like the head janitor skims more than just bioware from the labs below. And he's not subtle about it. So we can expect that he has some protection from bis Corp. If I hat to guess I'd say he is sanctioned to do that and it's part of their prototype testing. Show him some money and see if he looks greedy. That is likely our best bet to get equipment down there. He doesn't need to know that we are going to travel there through HR.>>

[adamu]

Al listened to Isaint on his earbud as he tipped Trixie in a way that gave a whole new meaning to the expression "slotting your credstick." He turned to Wernström to share a chuckle at his antics, then caught his breath and closed his eyes. Leaned back in his chair a little, neck at an odd angle. Then he opened his eyes and shook his head vigorously. "Shee-it, jefe, you got some worthwhile chems goin' on there. Lemme git ya a fresh drink. Name's Al."

An hour later, Al and his mark had moved to a quieter corner of the bar, where Al regaled the corp guy with tales of running guns across the Channel into England. Wernström listened and made an occasional appreciative comment. He seemed to be having a good time, but was not taking the bait to discuss any smuggling exploits of his own. So when the timing was right, Al tossed out the next hook. "Listen Vernie, reckon I could use me some more o' whatever that was ya done give me."

Wernström acted cautious, but Al knew he'd bite this time - drug dealers don't hand out free samples unless they are looking to make a sale. The topic of price came up, the guy starting way too high, but Al just shrugged and said sure, asked for twenty. "Certified cred okay?"

He collected the drugs under the table, conveniently forgot to set his stick to hide the balance as it transferred the funds - typical drunk mistake - and touched it to Wernström's commlink. It spoke well of the man that his expression did not change at the sight of way more zeroes than anyone that looked like Al should have on their account.

"Enjoy those, Al. But go easy, right?"

"Hell, ol' Al ain't no binge partier. Reckon one dose a day keeps the pain at bay. Good shit though. Reckon I know some folks'd like ta git they hands on some - 'ceptin' that ain't the sorta business I'm in. Ya go that route, ya gotta deal with ev'ry two-bit wannabe with a little weight an' a street corner."

"Really, what sort of business is that then, where you don't face that sort of competition?"

"Well, reckon I specialize in gittin' certain products ta folk in, um, traditionally inaccessible environments. Ya take my meanin' there, kemo sabe?"

[Mercy Merchant]

When Greg and Robyn stepped out of the casino they were feeling good about the night.  Greg had won enough to pay a bit down on his debt and Robyn had also come out with a profit, which although not necessary to the plan, is a nice thing nevertheless.  Greg takes Robyn's are and escorts her to a waiting cab.  "You were certainly my lucky charm tonight.  How long are you staying on the island?"

Robyn laughs.  "Not too long, I am afraid.  It is just a short holiday.  My husband will be expecting me back in a couple of weeks when he returns from his own holiday."

Greg's ears perked up at the mention that she was married. "Husband, eh?  Well, no reason you can't have fun for a couple of weeks, right."  His mind is already working through the possibilities.  Certainly, if her luck held at the casino, he might be able to pay down most or all of his debt and perhaps even come out ahead and Janice would never have to know.  Also, depending on the woman's marital status, there is always the chance that she would pay well to not have her husband find out.

Robyn nods.  "I am up for some action but we will have to be careful.  Michael is OK with me having a bit of fun, but he draws the line at the bed.  It is like I need to be his only."  She looks over to Greg and puts a hand on his arm.  "Not that I feel that way, you understand, but we have to be discrete in that activity."

Greg also nods.  "I understand entirely, Sam.  Dinner, drinks, and some casino time in public, but the nighttime activities need to be quiet."

She laughs.  "I cannot promise too much there, Greg.  I am usually pretty loud, but I was thinking about displaying affection in public."

Greg chuckles and squeezes her hand. "I understand perfectly, Sam.  You can count on me."

Back at the hotel and in the elevator, Greg is already mentally undressing the woman next to him and thinking of the night ahead...........and the several more he hopes to have with her.   The small camera drone he has used in the past will certainly come in handy in providing enough evidence to get her to pay to keep it from her husband.  And she will pay.  They all pay.  He likes this one, but his heart is already hardened to extracting as much from her as possible.  As they exit the elevator, he slips a hand to her back and slides it down to her ass to give it a squeeze.  The woman gives a throaty hum but does not move away from the slight pressure and he smiles as he realizes that she is already his to pluck.

Once in the room, he pulls her into an embrace, which is returned passionately.  He tries to activate his drone but gets an error message that the feed is not functioning.  He mentally swears at cheap drones and resolves to see about getting a new one with the money he will get from the woman in his arms.  He is blissfully unaware that Robyn had detected the drone on her earlier visit and had marked it and hacked it to give it a problem with its sensors.  The damage is easily repaired and she has already wiped her marks from the device.  Still, he smiles; he might not have pictures from tonight, but she seems pretty much on the hook and he can either repair or replace the damned drone tomorrow and use it tomorrow night. 

Robyn steps back out of the embrace and reaches back to touch the release and the gown falls, pooling at her feet in a shimmering pile of expensive cloth.  It had been obvious all night that she was not wearing any sort of bra and his touch as they left the elevator had led him to believe that she was wearing no underwear, either.  He is glad to find that he still has the touch as he gazes at the naked woman in front of him  She turns and walks to the bed, turning down the sheets and slipping between them. "Don't wait too long, Greg."

The man needs no further invitation, although it does take longer to get undressed than she had taken.  She is sitting up with her back to the headboard, watching him.  The sheets are gathered at her waist, letting his eyes explore the vision of her breasts.  Finally naked himself, he joins Robyn in the bed and the two go at each other.  He might not have a drone up, but Robyn has three in the room taking pictures from different angles.  She will edit the feeds later to be sure that her face is not in any of the shots she will use.  For now, though, she just sets them to go active and lets herself enjoy the sex.  Greg is a talented lover but he has never met anyone as talented as Robyn is and he is left used up and exhausted by the time she is done with him. 

[Jack_Spade]

"Enjoy those, Al. But go easy, right?"

"Hell, ol' Al ain't no binge partier. Reckon one dose a day keeps the pain at bay. Good shit though. Reckon I know some folks'd like ta git they hands on some - 'ceptin' that ain't the sorta business I'm in. Ya go that route, ya gotta deal with ev'ry two-bit wannabe with a little weight an' a street corner."

"Really, what sort of business is that then, where you don't face that sort of competition?"

"Well, reckon I specialize in gittin' certain products ta folk in, um, traditionally inaccessible environments. Ya take my meanin' there, kemo sabe?"

Wernström paused with his drink half to his lips and smiled: "You are fucking with me, right? Are you honestly asking what I think you are asking me?" he laughed.
"Gee. You almost had me with that act of yours. Ok, let's talk business - you aren't looking to score some experimental meds. You aren't corp and you aren't gov. Tats don't fit for Yak or Triad. Makes me wonder. So what is it you want and what do you offer?"

Isaint had moved to the side, keeping an eye on trouble and an ear out for the muted conversation between Al and the dealer. Wernström appeared to be a lot sharper than expected.

[adamu]

Tats, huh?

Al realized that since he'd taken his jacket off he'd been sitting with his right hand palm-down on the table, so apparently the guy hadn't seen the big, colorful Proteus brand on his forearm. At the guy's statement, Al moved his left hand to cover that forearm, almost as if it was a subconscious, protective move. The guy still couldn't see the tatoo, but now he'd be angling for a look at that arm - Al would make sure he caught a quick glimpse later - a little misdirection never hurt anyone.

"Yak or Triad? Amigo, I'd not imagine ye'd have ta look so far as ol' Al's ink ta ascertain I ain't got no part in those enterprises. Shee-it. Whatta I got ta offer? Well, reckon I could git ya a sweet deal on cultured black pearls outta New Caledonia, or the skinny on the best spots ta harvest longtailed red snapper. Or if'n I was feelin' generous I could spend some time, show ya ol' Al's sure-fire pick-up techniques, keep ya in prime poon till yer dyin' day. Smart play'd be ta go fer that. But I'm guessin' yer after cash." This little man shrugged. "That is also somethin' I can do."

There was a cigarette in his mouth where there had been none before. A big Zippo similarly appeared in his left hand, and he lit up, affording the man a brief flash of the Proteus logo. Just for fun.

"As fer what I want...ain't nothin', really. Jist a simple crate. Sealed. Left in a location ta be specified."

"How much cash?"  Hah - had him now, Al thought. "And the sealed part is a problem. My family lives down there. I have to see what's in the crate," the man answered.

Al held the mans gaze. "Reckon I know exactly who lives down there, kemo sabe. An' that's knowledge I hope you'll never make me use." After a tense moment, Al spat out a raw bark of laughter and grinned hugely. "Aww, who'm I tryin' ta kid. Ol' Al'd never hurt a fly. But that's the sort o' thing the bad guys always say on Tales. Ya watch Tales, amigo? Anyhoo. listen, I wanted ta do anythng mass murderey, hell, I'd do it a hell of a lot easier from the outside, wouldn't have to talk ta you, risk ya blowin' no whistles. Now you can walk away an' pass up a big payday on the one in a zillion chance I'm a congenital idiot, or ya can deliver my li'l ol' crate an' take ever'one out ta ice cream after. That my intentions are entirely benign I'll not insult ya by promisin'. But don't think of insultin' me by pretendin' ya care. All ya need ta know is ya make a lotta money an' no one that keeps they trap shut gits hurt."

[Jack_Spade]

Wernström nodded: "Now we are getting somewhere. I certainly can deliver a sealed box - there are daily supply runs. Getting restricted stuff down there won't be a problem. But the line is drawn at the forbidden stuff only corp sec is allowed. Nothing that can pierce the hull or is contagious. And no pressurized liquids or gasses. But I probably don't have to tell that to a deep sea contractor, do I?

So a fair warning:
I'm operating here on a very fine line with certain authorities turning a blind eye - if anything you carry down there causes them to come after me, they'll also come after you and with a vengeance you wouldn't believe. This is a very small island and unless you've booked a passage on an atomic submarine they will find you. And when that happens you'll wish that you'd heeded my warnings."

He took a little paper napkin and wrote on it with a pen. "Here's the address and the price tag. Leave the specifications where you want it delivered handwritten on the package. I'll take care of the rest."

[adamu]

Al decided, based on no knowledge whatsoever, that the price looked fair. "Alrighty then, reckon that's it." He got up, shrugged his jacket back on, and traded the bar's air-conditioned interior to the scorching South Pacific sun. He got into a cab, directed it to a hotel he'd never been to, congratulated himself on his meticulous tradecraft, and voice-texted Isaint the details of the deal, adding: <<Might wanna keep an eye on this feller fer a spell - he'll turn on his own corp, he'll jist as easily play both sides on us'n.>>

Arriving at the new hotel, Al went to the poolside bar to add several beers to those he'd had at his own hotel and then at the tittie bar. Here as well there were a number of well-heeled women spending a lot of money to bake in the sun with very little on. He felt all their eyes undressing him hungrily, but as usual his aura was too intimidating for any of them to approach with the lascivious propositions spinning through their heads.

A few beers later, he was sure that none of his admirers were more than they appeared to be, and got another cab back to his own hotel. He supposed he should look for tails on that leg of the journey as well, but figured he'd already done enough hard work for one day. So he smoked and looked at the ocean, and once back hit the restaurant for dinner.

[Aria]

[Monday September 14th, 2076; Tonga]
 
While the other runners separated to begin prepping their insertion in to the underwater facility Silk settled down to do her own version of recon.  Once, as Balefire’s infiltrator, she would have been studying duct layouts and security schematics, but this was Isaint’s run and it was his right to choose the social engineering route over covert lock breaking…and she was forced to admit was probably more likely to succeed, despite her misgivings.
 
So instead she began to prepare one last Reading before they took the plunge, literally…
 
Although Ritual, it wouldn’t be a divination that many mages would recognise, it was closer to the experiences that Summer described when she assessed the Resonance for the ebb and flow of data that determined probabilities.  Silk sat in a sea of AR windows, far more than anyone could read, and let her Gift take over, searching for the Patterns that would aid them or those that could hamper their efforts and so were best avoided, or twisted to a new path…
 
***
#14

[Mercy Merchant]

Robyn's internal alarm goes off at 0530 and she wakes to the sound of Greg snoring heavily.  She gently moves his arm from where it is laying across her torso and slips from the bed, slipping her dress on but taking her shoes in her hand.  She sends Greg a text timed to spool to his 'link at 0630 and quietly leaves the room to the sleeping man.  Robyn walks barefoot down the carpeted corridor, looking a bit disheveled and smiles at a young man pushing a room service cart out of the elevator.  Reaching her floor, she steps off the lift and heads to her room, where she quickly undresses and heads to the bathroom to use the toilet and shower.  While soaking under tha hot water she sends a message to her companions.  >>Team [Robyn]:  First phase of the plan is complete.  Do I need to string him along any more or do we lower the hammer on this guy this morning?  How many of us am I arranging passage for and should I go for gear or is that taken care of?<<

After finished with the shower, Robyn dries off and returns to the bedroom to brush her hair and examine the feed footage from Greg's room.  She smiles and begins editing the footage to fir their plans, making sure that there is no doubt that the man is having sex with a woman not his wife while leaving the face concealed.  She even edits out the tats and is rather proud of her work when it is all done.

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint promptly replied: <<Gear is taken care off - it's better if the mark doesn't know we have a shipment waiting for us - makes him less likely to develop a conscience.
And yeah, time to spring the trap on him. But just in case wait until we are in position to back you up - if that guy suddenly gets enraged and his monkey brain thinks violence is the answer to his problems I do want you to have other options than your little monowhip.
As for who: This one will need all of us down there.

Also, to sweeten the deal for him, offer him money too. We need his cooperation to get out again.>>

[adamu]

Soft lips tickled playfully at Al's, which was nice, but she seemed not to have shaved this morning. She didn't smell very good either, he realized as wakefulness crept up on him. He opened his eyes to find himself in a filthy alley, overflowing dumpsters billowing reek in the morning sun. His lover was a large sow licking flecks dried vomit from around his mouth. An insistent pressure in his bladder provided happy confirmation he hadn't wet himself again.

Shooing away his porcine paramour, he fished out his link and checked his messages. Seemed Alyce had bagged her mark, so they might be pulling out anytime now. He dragged his ten-pound head off the concrete and staggered back in the direction of his hotel.

[Aria]

[Tuesday September 15th, 2076; Tonga]
 
In the early hours of the morning Silk finally dragged herself out of her trance, exhausted, hungry, thirsty and in need of a toilet.  Brushing aside the AROs that still orbited her she sent a message out to the team
 
<<I hope your preparations are going well…this needs to happen tonight, or early tomorrow at the latest if we are going to succeed…after that the probability of reaching Monarch crashes through the floor at an exponential rate.  I am sorry if this accelerates the programme faster than you might like, but if it makes you feel better I’m tracking a tropical storm inbound and it might be good to use that as cover…it could take a couple of days to pass us by!>>
 
That done she set about making herself considerably more comfortable
 
***
#15