Shadowrun Play > Play-by-Post

Panzerknacker [IC]

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"It's a very difficult job and the only way to get through it is we all work together as a team. And that means you do everything I say."
Charlie Croker: The Italian Job

Seattle, November 5th, early morning

The sun hadn't rissen yet, but the cold, crisp air was clear and the steady wind from the sea promised a clear day. Giant automated freight ships landed and took of from Seattle harbor, leaving little grey clouds of exhaust in their wake.
Dr. Schmitt took a sip from his thermos cup. The aroma of real Brazilian coffee filled the SUV while it's vapors slowly fogged the windows. The city hadn't changed appreciatively since he had been here the last time, but still...
The passenger door opened and an Ork in a long coat sat himself unasked inside, rubbing life back into his cold fingers. Without a word Schmitt poured him a cup.
"Ah, that's better."
"I assume you were successful?"
"Wasn't easy, they have gone to ground and the fixer wasn't in the mood to give out any info."
"Can't say that I blame him. Looking out for the interest of his assets. But you know: Problems and opportunities - two sides of the same coin. Now out with it, have you found them?"
"Sure, at least there current contacts."
"Excellent. And what about the other specialists?"
"I have three. Two mages and a rigger. Rather new on the scene."
"Talent's hard to find. Alright. Send the invite and get the warehouse ready."
"You've got it boss. Usual protocols."
"As you say. Time to crack this nut once and for all."

Seattle, November 5th, noon

The day was remarkably warm for November, sun shine filled the city so that even the most grim looking troll couldn't help but smile.
The serenity was broken by the various notification sounds and methods the various commlinks had.
bnc, Krestov, Slobbertooth and Torrent received a message from a contact they hadn't heard from for almost a year:
<<Greetings, based on our previous experiences I'd like to hire your team for a new mission. Don't worry, this time you won't have to travel far. Meet me this evening at 6 at Charly's Bar'n Grill, Steward street.
Best regards,
Dr. Schmitt.>>

Yael, Flatline and Kite found a similar message, but from their respective fixers, Debbie, Black-Eye Pete and Brian Delaney:
<<Just got a job offer for you. Handsome S-K fellow, goes by Dr. Schmitt, want's to hire your talents for a big job. Says to come tonight to Charly's Bar'n Grill, Steward street around 6.>>

When Devon gets the message from Three-Toes, he quickly clears his schedule for the rest of the day, postponing a surgery and getting a nurse updated on his patients in the clinic.  He goes to his lab/lodge to prep his gear and grab a nap.  A few hours later he heads into town, taking his truck and parking it at a lot on the edge of Downtown and using public transportation to Seward.  Knowing nothing more than the message he got, he arrives at Charly’s at 10 to 6, checks his medical bag and takes a seat at the bar to wait, ordering a beer but not drinking it.

Anna receives the message in her dormitory apartment as she was struggling to digest what her food processor passed as 'nutritious chicken flavored delight'...  I wander if Debbie uses the word handsome with the same audacity that suffer home  use the word 'delight'.  She texted Debbie >> As long as he is 'handsome', I am in though he is probably old enough to be my dad.

The next text was to her friend Irene >> Something came up, I might cancel for the party tonight so make some alternative plans, will let you know.  Should Anna be occupied that night she is going to miss a rap performance at the Banshee. 

Anna projects to the meet about an hour before she physically go there, she scans the place for anything unusual, she'll arrive few minutes ahead of time as long as the scouting does not uncover anything unusual.

Slobbertooth was happy to see the message from Schmidt. It meant that things were at least about to get more interesting and less dangerous than his current life out in the barrens. Not unsurprising even though the last time the team had received a job from Schmidt it had involved submarines, blood mages, and Aztechnology commando teams. Commando squads were at least more predictable than BTL junkies too scrambled to realize he wasn't a dealer.

Josiah packed up his equipment into some of the duffel-bags he had "borrowed" from drug runners (after removing all of their "baking soda"), and threw his guns into their cases. Mounting his Suzuki Mirage, weighed down by all of the bags, Slobbertooth was sure that he made a strange sight as he tired to simultaneously keep everything in one place and drive safely at high speed. There wouldn't b e any slowing down. Just because he was familiar and could survive in the Barrens didn't keep him from relishing any opportunity to leave. He hoped that the combination of his helmet and jacket would do enough to cover his identity from any street cameras that might be prying at the odd motorcycle turned baggage train.

When Slobbertooth pulled up to the restaurant he parked in the lot and waited for Krestov to arrive with the team's truck. When Special K arrived, Slobbertooth gave him a nod and threw his duffel bags and excess worn equipment into the back of the Rover. He couldn't very well take a duffel bag filled with body armor, APDS ammunition and grenades into a restaurant and he certainly couldn't leave it sitting out in the open. He kept himself minimally armed, even taking off his helmet. This was a social call after all.

Taking off his respirator for the first time iin weeks, he smelled something foul. He initially thought it was just the "fresh" air in Seattle. After a little personal exploration, Slobbertooth realized it was his own musk earned from his time in hiding among trash without easy access to clean running water. He put his respirator back on and entered the restaurant. Hopefully this wouldn't be another seafood restaurant or he'd be ruining everyone else's dinner. Maybe the place wouldn't be crowded and he could sit in a corner and just ruin some other patron's meals.

[spoiler]Slobbertooth is armed with concealed Ruger loaded with gel ammunition. He has a smoke grenade and a single speedloader with APDS in his pocket.[/spoiler]

Oh no, not today! Damn you, Gerhard...

bnc had smiled when she saw Gerhard's face popping up before herself. Not so much after she'd read the message.

She began to text.
<@Robin <hey pal i'm dead sorry i cnt cum today. there's Damn, what can be important enough to postpone a handsome doctor-to-be? Uhm...a really important meet a friend of mine. She's one's gonna believe that. Not anyone who'd be smart enough to entertain me a single week.a really important job interview. sry, I'll buy you a drink next time!>

Crap. No. That way I create a asymmetrical relationship definition, leaning towards him as the dominant part. That way, I am never going to get him to do anything for me.

Sighing, bnc deletes the message.

<@Robin <sorry robin. I really wanted to get to meet ya 2day. smthng really important came up, though. I'll tell u next time. What about 1 week later, 12th? kisses, bianca>
Way better. Creating a kind of mystery to catch him on the hook. Taking the initiative, making him respond to me. A bit cocky, creating a frame in which I don't seem to depend on him. Friendly still, and a tiny bit of sex. Send!

Once the message is out, bnc yells out in frustration, hits the wall with her fist, screams FUCK at the next person she meets and buys herself a 500ml can of Pepper Plus (with cherry flavor).

Two hours and a bit of Whoom! later, she's way more relaxed. She does her routine homework (checking out Schmitt's commlink, doing a thourough research on his life, focussing on the last 365 days, but redoing all the stuff before for good measure, visiting the matrix representation of the restaurant, checking their matrix security and so on). She then dons tight leather pants, a yellow-red band shirt (over a proper push-up) and an equally tight leather jacket. After fixing the make up, she styles her hair into green spikes (she figures that her youth attracted him; no mistake in underlining that feature of hers) she takes public transports to the restaurant and arrives roughly 15 minutes early.

Before she enters the grill, she makes sure, her deck is switched off. She conceals Tom in a concealable holster then waits for the others to arrive.

When Devon enters the room, she eyes him carefully and takes a closer look at his commlink. Once Slob enters, she sits right next to him, then decides to shift a few inches further from him. "Hey, sempai. How's it hangin'?"


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