[Csjarrat]

Jag nods at Kachina, replying in his softly lilting indian accent.
And a fearsome opponent he would probably make. Violence and outward hatred usually come from some deep inner unhappiness. It sounds like his life is a mess.
Mysteriously discharged following death of those under his care, divorced. All signs of mental instability, perhaps PTSD from something in his service life. Perhaps he medicates? Perhaps this medication is legal, perhaps not? Perhaps we can find some shaming documentation on his abuses and use it for leverage? Perhaps we can alter his medication? Perhaps we can sabotage his cyberware?
{sitting back into the seat, he gestures with his left hand at the open AR terminal} I see opportunities here. For sure, he would make a strong combatant. So we do not fight him on his terms I think.

[obidancer]

Kachina's face rejoiced and with a renewed faith in her teammates.
I like the way you think Jag. Tomorrow we'll start some surveillance of those two guys, gather more information on them to see where to strike.

[Triskavanski]

The cat grinned a little, "Already starting surveillance on them. Tracking down every time they show up on traffic cameras and other open channels like that. I love cameras, they let me hear and see so much after all and they can be itty bitty little things." He began flipping through the camera views, saving what he could to data storage nearby. It'll take a while without some sort of facial recognition software.

After a few hours of flipping through it and doing what little he could without accessing his higher powers, as time to sleep began approaching.. "If we're staying here for the night I have some more work to do with a few of my tools..."

[Csjarrat]

Perhaps you could also see what social feeds they create too, blogs, check-ins at shops and such? An idea of their regular movements and favourite haunts would be a good start.

[Number 2]

"You know..." Rolen spoke up. "I've had quite a bit of both explosives and mechanical training." He looked at the kid. "Could you get me some schematics of the vehicles they will be driving?"

[Triskavanski]

"Well if they're not included in the chip, I'll be happy to find them for you. After all that is most of what my job is, gathering intel and coordinating you all. " the cat gave a cheerful grin. "So.. I would need you all to be on the matrix when we do this."

[obidancer]

Kachina passed her hand in Carbonel's hair and messed it up with an affectionate soft shake, ignoring his plea about Matrix connectivity.
We've done enough for tonight. Let's call it a day, sleep on it, and continue tomorrow. That will include finding us a safehouse where we can plot in peace.

I'll get a cab home unless, you want to give me a ride, Jag?

Kachina was looking forward to start the legwork and get things going with the finding more info on the Shaman. She knew that whatever good a plan, a Shaman could easily mess everything up.

[Csjarrat]

yeah I can drop you off, where you need to go? Right, see you in the morning, what time shall we meet?

[Triskavanski]

"If you don't mind, I'll stay here and continue working on my parts of the plan that I can. "

[obidancer]

Just home, Tacoma. Let's all get in touch tomorrow morning at 9am. You know what you have to do already. While Carbonel gathers more info, Jag you find us transportation, and Rolen a safehouse, where we'll be able to hide and plan in peace. Carbonel, I count on you to assist us all. I look for info on the Shaman. Gentlemen, good night.

Jag, thanks for the ride.

[Csjarrat]

Jag waved good night to the others and headed outside, zipping his jacket up against the cool night air.
His breath hung in small clouds as he descended the small flight of steps down to street level as he led Kachina to the parked car.
The beautiful orange AR dashboard lit up as he slunk into the plush seat, the seat warmers instantly going to work as the demister cleared the windscreen.
It purred into life with a gesture and Jag keyed in the destination in the nav-map.
Where you want dropping off?

[obidancer]

Kachina entered Jag's sport car. A comfortable and well maintained vehicle, she had no doubt Jag was fond of his car.
Quite a beautiful thing you have here. Ain't you worried our 'Run' may put a dent to it?
She pushed a couple keys on her Commlink to ping Jag the cross street she need to be dropped at. It was a long block away from where she actually resided but there was no need for more details just yet. Self-protection.

[Csjarrat]

Its a lovely car, frankly I trust her more than i trust anyone else's machinery. I know how she handles, I know how she drives. I have trustworthy friends who can patch her up if she gets wounded.
I'd rather pilot her than any other machine if I knew we had to make a quick escape. Call me sentimental, but she is more than a car to me, especially when it comes to our little "Runs".She is my armour, my weapon and my steed all-in-one
The sat-nav chimed with the new address details and plotted them a route. They made small talk as they cut through the quieter back-streets, taking a shortcut here and there where Jag knew they existed.
It felt good, talking, being an equal, part of a team. It had been too long since Jag had worked alongside people he had a respect for.
The kid was cooky, but the limited work he'd seen him do showed he had great potential. Kachina had a good rep and their paths had crossed before. He had no doubt of her professionalism.
This was not going to be an easy job by any stretch, but in theory, it was doable. He mentally opened up an AR to-do list and compiled a short set of items to do in the morning whilst the lights took forever to come back round to green.
He pulled into a short-stay bay outside the corner shop at Kachina's junction and waved her goodnight.
Jag suspected she probably still had a bit of a walk home but didn't blame her. It was good opsec to keep distance between people and your home address, gave you time to check for tails too. Jag would do the same, taking a circuitous route back home to throw off or at least identify anyone who was a bit too interested.
His lights swept the underground parking bay as he descended the ramp, sending a stray cat scattering. The air was stale, that smell of not-quite-damp, not-quite-petrol that seemed to haunt all underground parking bays.
Retrieving his kit out of the boot, he slumped back in the lift bay and realised just how tired he was. Setting his alarm, he dropped the folding bed down into the middle of the room and set the audio stream to the familiar sounds of the jungle, drifting off into a restful sleep.