The reply came through as Derren had finished unloading the shopping back home.
Thank fuck for that... didn't want to have to lug the big guns down to that end of town..
Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, Derren kicked the kitchen rug away and pulled up the hatch to the small basement, flicking on the bare energy efficient bulb to cast a weak light over his weapon racks.
The light had increased in strength by the time he'd descended the ladder and he reviewed what he'd need for the meet later.
Nothing too flashy, nothing too heavy.
He grabbed his bowie knife and concealable sheath and a streetline from his pistol rack, hand hovering over one of his trusty fichetti's.
It's just a meet, in a nice part of town.. You wont need her.
He got as far as the ladder before doubling back; grabbing the fichetti, a full spare clip and the arm slide it was clipped into.
My team? I haven't got a fucking team...
Secreting the weapons about his person, he changes into some slightly smarter clothes and pulls his long coat on over the top.
There's no way I can get that SiN off his 'link without a decker. Wonder if he's got the wrong bloody number?..
Derren pushes the door to the apartment shut, kicking the accumulated RFID advertising spam away from the letterbox and hit each of the three door locks in order.
He crossed the underground parking lot, dodging the drips from the ancient and unmaintained pipework and climbed into the little commuter car, once again firing up the AR display and pulling into traffic.
Glad to leave the damp stink of the parking lot behind him as the weak sunshine hit his arm through the window, he knew this meet was going to be weird. For one thing, he was gonna end up there solo at this rate. And without either a deck or a means to use one.
Mentally opening a message terminal, he weighed up his options. The only decent decker he really knew of was an old acquaintance from his days in the forces. He knew he'd fallen into the shadows, but it was just as likely that he'd be on the opposing team; if that wasn't just some bullshit ruse to hurry things along of course..
//<<Matrix Message protocol:: James>>//Hey buddy. I know its a longshot, but you're the best decker I know. Any chance you've had a cryptic job offer today?//
Waiting on the reply whilst stuck in traffic, he drummed his fingers on the steering gear; somewhat analogous to old-style airplane controls.
If we get this job we'll need a mojo-slinger. Any target worth his bread is gonna have some kind of mojo to deal with...
//<<Matrix Message protocol:: Tobias>>//Hoi chummer, look I know its been a long time since our paths last crossed pal, but I was wondering.. where you at nowadays? you still playing the game? hit me up if you're anywhere near Seattle. Might just have some work for you, details are sketchy at the mo though.//