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[6E] Dome Sweet Home IC

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[Tuesday November 14th, 2079; Reaper turf, Northern Redmond, Seattle Metroplex]

Conscious that the gangers seemed to be mobilising their gun wagons only a few hundred meters away certainly added a certain impetus to the quick search of the fire station ambush site.  It was clear from the amount of detritus, Stuffer Shack wrappers, cheap synthol containers and the odd bit of drug paraphernalia that this was a long established stake out position rather than a hastily put together ambush site.  It would be reasonable to assume that there would be another one on the far side of Reaper turf and possibly along 162nd Avenue too as the principle approaches to their lair.  There was little of intrinsic value apart from the rocket launcher and the two spare rockets they had there, something the team were only too happy to relieve them of… and then it was time to high tail it or face the ganger’s wrath as the sound of souped up engines filled the bleak Redmond afternoon air…



Dynamit looked around the ruin, looked like home. She picked up the launcher
"I can't carry thises on bike. OK to put in yer van?"
When she heard the message about the ganger
"I can help with that. I can some patterns that can fix them good" she heard the noise "we better to be gone now" she trotted to her bike and look around for the others before sloping the bike in to gear at moving off

Tipperman was really tempted to hide in the fire station and drop on the punks and bust them up but good.  But a) it wouldn't really help anything, and b) he should probably get patched up before risking more wounds.  But frag it would feel good to see some punk ganger's eyes to wide as he choked them out.

"Yah time to fall back
Time to calm down
Time to plan
Then it can be time to go show 'em what's what."

Omen gunned the gas pedal and accelerated back toward the direction they had come from, glancing now and again into the rearview mirror both to keep an eye out for pursuers and to ensure the ork girl wasn't getting up to shank him while he drove.

Once they had left the gang territory, he slowed down again and asked his chummers: <<We probably shouldn't take them back to the tribe - that could implicate them with some nasty stories. I say, we set up shop in that derelict building over there, patch those two up enough so that they can talk and then ask some pointed questions. You with me on that?>>

"yep, let's get answers quick before they realize we are getting them"


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