Shadowrun
Shadowrun Play => Play-by-Post => Topic started by: Scarecrow71 on <07-27-13/1156:01>
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Saturday, March 30, 2075
1530 hours
The hard, driving rain of the past few days has finally given way to the grey that is the overcast Seattle sky. The clouds hang low, snuffing out most of the natural light that tries to filter through to the ground, and the air is damp and cold. But it's not raining today, and that is reason to be in a partially good mood. Unfortunately, it's only 3:30 PM, which makes it several hours before you are normally moving into the upcoming night, which makes the lack of rain close to unimportant.
You fumble about in your apartment for several minutes, trying to figure out why you are suddenly jolted away from your dreams of blue sky, white sand, and cold beverages. Some kind of buzzing or chirping or singing seems to be coming from near you, but you cannot place where it is or where it's coming from. The fog of not getting enough sleep combined with whatever it was you were drinking last night is causing confusion to seep in, pushing what little reality you want to acknowledge off to the side.
Buzz....Buzz.....
That damned buzzing. What could it be? Where the heck is it coming from? You finally get a grip on yourself and realize that it's coming from the stand next to your bed, your commlink rattling around as it buzzes, trying to get your attention. You get up the strength to open your eyes fully, the blurry screen coming into focus slowly but surely. And when you do finally focus, you see that whoever was calling you has left you a voice-mail message.
You flip over to voice-mail, ready to listen when you see that you don't recognize the icon of whoever left the message. The icon is somewhat reminiscent of a hypodermic needle, but it's swirled with tie-dyed colors of purple and green and yellow, twisting the image into a psychedelic acid trip from the early 2030s. Being rather curious - and now rather awake - you decide to listen before climbing back into bed.
"Hoi, chummer. My name is Hampton, and I got something you might be interested. Little spot of work for a little spot of cred. Your fixer said this might be your kind of ten pins, so I'm going all AT&T.
"Come down to Hampton Holistic Healthcare and we'll get to brass tacks. 2100, tonight. I'll even make it worth your while - 100 cool ones just for showing. Don't be late!"
The last part of the message contains directions to get to the place, and you start asking yourself who the hell this guy is. And why the frak your fixer gave him your name is beyond your comprehension at the moment, but 100 creds is 100 creds. Even through the fog, 20th century references and the slimy British accent you caught that part. 100 creds just for showing up. Now all you gotta do is figure out if you are going...and how your gonna dress for the dance.
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While the comm was signalling for a call, Jack "Snake" Valance was just finishing up boring the barrel for a custom rifle a client had recently commissioned him for. Setting down the barrel and tools, he walks over toward the table were the comm-link was sitting, tossing the safety glasses onto the table and picking up a rag to wipe the oils from his hands.
On checking the message that had been left, he raises an eyebrow and mutters to himself, "100 just for showing up. That one just positively stinks of desperation, but it's basically free money. Whatever this guy wants better pay a lot more than that if he wants anyone with any talent."
With that, he turns and walks through a side door and up the stairs heading to his living space where he keys up a cup of soykaf and what the auto-chef calls a roast beef sandwich before dropping down onto the synthleather sofa and putting the trid onto the highlights from the last Urban Brawl game--he'd had a couple hundred nuyen riding on the local team.
Before he knew it, the clock read 17:30, and he thought to himself, 'I've got plenty of time...' and set the comm to place a call to Alexa, after all, she should be leaving her shift at the precinct around now asking her to dinner before cleaning up and putting on a fresh set of clothing.
[spoiler]
He'd be timing things so that he could arrive outside the meeting location about half an hour early so that he could watch those going in to get a feel for them.
[/spoiler]
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If I get out of bed it's just going to turn out to be a telemarketing bot. Corvus deactivates the commlink ad goes back to sleep. Around 1800 he gets up, has a bowl of soup, and turns on the trid. Around 1830 he remembers he has a message, and decides it might be worth checking. Actually, he has two messages- one of them really is a telemarketer- one of the drawbacks of having a good fake SIN. The other one catches his interest.
A run? Wizzer. Is it normal to pay people just to show up though? And if so, is a hundred typical? Maybe he just has a lot of money. Or maybe he doesn't have much, but he's desperate. Or has a lot and he's desperate. Wait, who meets a holistic healthcare shop? Is he actually having us meet at his own business? I was expecting a dingy, smoky back room somewhere, or maybe an abandoned parking lot. Whatever, a jobs a job, have to start somewhere. I'll just...FUCK! That article's due tomorrow!
Corvus frantically turns off the trid and grabs his commlink. He, or rather "Keith Springer," is supposed to write a short review of the punk rock concert he saw last night and send it in to his boss. The concert was alright, just alright, and he had been thinking about how to put that last night, before he got into the partying. So- one hour to slap together a 500-word article, do one quick revision and send it in, a half hour to get ready, a half hour to get there, and a half hour to stake the place out. It's just barely doable.
An hour and a half later, Corvus sends in his article, checks the time and freaks out. Late to first run? Not happening. He sets a world record for showering speed, scrubs a later of skin off his armpits, and briefly debates what to wear. Holistic healthcare. Respectable business I guess. Is this guy a suit though, or more of a hippy? How upscale is it? ...Better to be overdressed than underdressed. Gotta look expensive. Besides, I might end up being the teams...faceman? Yeah, thats the term, faceman.
Corvus throws on his sleek armored vest, carefully puts on his one nice suit over it, and sets the suit to black with mild pinstripes- the classic power suit. He meant to disguise himself, but there's no time. He grabs his gear and rushes out to catch a cab. One the way over, it occurs to him that he thought the fixer would act as a cutout rather than giving out his commcode. I'll have to ask him about that. That's not standard is it? He arrives at 2050, not really in time to stake the place out. He watches the shop from across the street for five minutes, noticing a white male human also watching it. The man has been there since before Corvus showed up.
Frag. Is he another runner who was called here? maybe he's an enemy? Why did this Johnson have to call a meet at his own fragging business? I mean, presumably. Probably just another member of my team. Well, possible member of my possible team, nothings decided. Maybe I should say hi. NO, what am I going to say, "Hi, are you here for the shadowrun?" Act natural. Corvus does a poor job of acting natural. At 20:55, he heads in. Always good to be a few minutes early.
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Zen sat motionless on a bamboo mat in mantis position. The room around him, reminiscent of a feudal dojo. Scrolls surrounded the walls, some merely symbols for the elements others stories of lords and their great deeds. Through the open sliding doors, a river to his right and an endless forest to the left. One could make out the steady running of the water and birds of some sort in the distance. It was night in this place. As Zen's chest moved with the steady rhythm of his breathing, a figure appeared at the door overlooking the river. The shadowy figure stood there in silence, staring blankly into the room. After what seemed like an eternity within this realm, the figure disappeared, leaving a small black box at the doorstep.
Zen opened his eyes, stood up, and walked to the door. He picked up the box and removed what appeared to be a scroll made of a reflecting metallic material. As Zen unrolled the scroll, neon black words began to appear on the scroll. It was a message in regard to a possible job. As Zen finished reading the message, he sent a command for his realm to dissolve. The world around him began to melt away as he left his host room and entered the general lobby of his apartment complex's host.
As he stepped out of his private host, the apartment's delivery icon appeared before him.
"Hello Mr. Ryu. I hope that you enjoyed your host usage today. I am just here to verify that you received your voice-mail from 15:30 today, March 30.." Zen cut the icon short.
"Yes. I received the message. Thank you. I will be jacking out now." And with that, Zen exited the familiar sensation of the matrix and returned to his meat shell.
Zen's eyes opened as his consciousness returned to his body. He leaned forward in his chair and focused his eyes on his desk. He brought up the AR displays and checked the time. 17:00. He always tended to lose track of time when running his meditation software. It was nice to get away from the hustle and bustle for a bit. He brought up his matrix browser. He had never heard of this Hampton Holistic Healthcare before, but for 100 creds he might as well just see what this "Hampton" wanted. First things first though, time to do some research. Zen started to search for anything he could find on Hampton Holistic Healthcare and made an alarm to notify him at 19:00.
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Eugene looked up from the book he was reading as the call came in. He'd put in a lot of time and effort finding a real, hard copy of The Man In The Iron Mask, and he'd hoped he'd have been able to read a bit more than he had. After Hampton hung up, Eugene thought about the offer. A hundred nuyen would offset a bit of the amount he'd spent for the book, and besides, he didn't have any other prospects at the moment (and he needed to earn his next month's rent at that).
He made note of the address and directions, and began getting ready. After getting his suit looking just right, he smiled in the mirror as he turned for the door. Once outside, he put on his tophat and began walking to his destination, his cane taping on the walk as he went. Perhaps this would be a good evening for Mr. Wilde after all.
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The sounds of tortured wails shakes Jennifer from her cocktail-induced state as a data-scrambled entity. A heavy dose of caffeine manages to turn her into a functional animated corpse, and a scalding-hot shower induces sufficient energy to thaw out her brain. An hour of routine passes until the cause of her rising is remembered and the message received.
Half an hour of studying the newest on Dho-Na curves in Summoning Thresholds - control of which is still mostly beyond her - is accompanied by expanding on what little information she has about the offer. Just basic matrix searches - no point in digging deep when you have no idea where to dig.
Lucky me - i got a job offer from who-knows who, about bugger-knows what. Well, better make sure i'll get out with all my facilities intact when this goes pear-shaped.
Another two hours are spend reading metamathematic articles before she gets to work in the former kitchen of her apartment. Her commlink beeps as it loses its grid-connection due to being inside a faraday-cage, and Jennifer blinks for a minute as her eyes get used to the intense artificial light. Then she gets to work.
After checking that the circuitry of her Hand of Glory - actually just the paw of some roadkill, modern electronics make human ingredients obsolete - and checking the code on her Infrared-camera (decayed as usual) and the containment of a aluminum-silver dodecahedron, Jennifer grabs a taser and a raincoat and waits for the next bus.
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Zen
Your matrix search on Hampton Holistic Healthcare turns up....next to nothing. It's a small operation that specializes in natural, holistic healing for whatever minor aches and pains you may have. It also happens to be situated in a rather run-down section of Downtown Seattle, near the edge of what might be close to Downtown. You get links to articles about this natural remedy, or that herb, or this plant, but nothing really major.
Jennifer
Your matrix search on Hampton Holistic Healthcare turns up....just about nothing. Some random articles on natural remedies and holistic medicine, but nothing concrete about the place itself.
Snake
You sit outside the place, watching and waiting to see who else shows up for this meet. By 2055 you see a couple of humans and a troll enter the place, and they all look like runners. The troll actually looks your way at one point, and you believe he's looking right at you, sizing you up.
All Except Zen
By 2055 you make your way into the building, which looks like a medicine lodge exploded inside it. A small receptionist desk is situated on the far wall, with plants and sticks and bottles upon bottles of every kind of natural remedy lining the walls. A petite blonde woman sits behind the desk, and when you tell her you're here to see Hampton, she immediately shows you to a back office, insisting that "...Mr. Hampton will be with you shortly, as soon as you have all arrived...".
The four of you are sitting there, a series of chairs definitely not built for anyone bigger than a human, a card table in the middle of the room that looks like it's been used for things other than bridge.
Zen
You may arrive at any point AFTER 2055 hours, which makes you the last to arrive.
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Zen walked over to his kitchen as his deck ran the searches on Hampton. He grabbed an iced soykaf from his fridge and sat back down in front of his AR panels. Looks like there wasn't anything really special about Hampton Holistic Healthcare. All the natural remedy stuff always seemed a bit like a con to him. He should know, he'd spent most of his corporate life playing the game of lies and doubletalk. All these advertisement just reeked of the same drek he used to feed the corporate suits to keep them out of his hair. Not that his efforts ended up helping him in the end, but those were memories that Zen would rather not relive right now. Right now, there were creds to be made.
Zen dresses himself in his actioneer business suit, making sure to iron out any creases. Some habits die hard, and the corporate look always seems to work well when discussing terms, regardless of the environment. He packs his Yamaha Pulsar and Browning Ultra both in concealed holsters in his suit and gets his usual supplies ready. Packs his glue sprayer, medkit, couple spar clips and makes sure he has all his paperwork in order. Don't want to be caught out in the shadows without his fake SIN and licenses. At least, not with his background.
Lastly, Zen pops in his contacts and grabs his comm. He takes the elevator down from his apartment level to the garage and locates his Suzuki Mirage. He thinks to himself:
Sure. Taking public transit might be cheaper, but there's nothing like the convenience of having your own wheels when things go sour.
Zen loads up the address to the meet location and heads off. He may have spent a bit too long on the searches, for how little they turned up, but he always would rather be safe than sorry. Besides. He should arrive just before the meet time anyway.
(Zen arrives outside at 20:58)
Zen parks his bike near the front of the healthcare facility. He switches his deck to run silently and walks into the facility. He walks up to the receptionist.
I believe I'm expected.
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Zen
The receptionist has a bit of contempt in her eyes as she looks from her watch to you.
"Yes, you are expected...to be on time, not late. Follow me."
She leads you through the facility and into the same meeting room the others are in.
All Characters
At about 2101 hours the door to the meeting room opens, and the receptionist is followed by Zen.
"Mr. Hampton will be with you all shortly," she says, the words a bit cold coming from her. She then closes the door, and you sit and wait in anticipation or irritation for what seems like forever - because that's what it always feels like when you are waiting for someone in an office - but in reality is only like a minute or so.
When the door opens, the person greeting you is not what you'd expect. From the looks of the lobby, you would probably expect an Amer-Indian shaman of some kind, fetishes and feathers and what-not hanging all over him. What you get is a clean-shaven, middle-aged elf, wearing a really nice suit complete with polished leather wing-tips, horn-rims and a gold watch. For all his classy clothing, however, he has the look of a man who hasn't slept in days, the bags under his eyes belying his apparent good looks. He sits down at the table, looking you each in the eye.
"I've not time to discuss pleasantries, so I'll just get right to it," he starts, the urgency in his voice clear. "The mob's got my daughter. I have to pay them a 'protection fee'," his fingers making the quotation sign, "to keep the local gangs from stomping on the business I've built, but business has been slow lately and I can't afford to make the monthly payment. And it doesn't help that the amount I 'owe' keeps going up and up regardless of how much I complain about not being able to afford it."
He hangs his head slightly, sighing deeply before continuing.
"The Fratellis are holding her hostage until I can pay them. Assuming I can pay them. And if I don't...well, let's just say I bought Moxie a really nice ring for her Sweet Sixteen, and the Fratellis have more than one use for a cigar cutter."
He reaches into one of the pockets of his suit, producing a credstick.
"I don't have much - hell, I can't even afford to ransom my own daughter - but I am willing to pay you for your...assistance...in helping me get my daughter back. It's not much, but there's 2 grand on this credstick. It's yours if you bring my daughter back to me."
He sets the credstick on the table, waiting to hear your response.
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Zen sat back, listening intently to Hampton's story. He made sure to observe Hampton's body language and speech patterns to identify any possible contradictions between his story and the projected emotional response. When you work with computers and code all day, you start to see patterns in not only technical object's routines but the people you meet day to day. Overall, we're just not that special. He waited for Hampton to finish, then took a quick glance around at the others at the table. An interesting group it looked like. Zen wondered, who would speak first, but his propensity for chatter got the best of him.
My name is Zen, Mr. Hampton and I'm sorry to hear about your daughter. Allow me to express my deepest concern. .
As Zen spoke, flashbacks of his murdered family flew through his head. He thought of the blood covered walls, the cold empty eyes that once held so much life and energy, and the screaming that to this day he wasn't sure came from him or was a figment of his imagination. An auditory hallucination brought on by the realization that the most precious thing in his life had been taken away. All this passed through his head within a split second.
I understand what it is like to have a loved one in danger. I speak only for myself, but I would be happy to provide you support in this endeavor to extract your child. However, though I empathize with your situation, you know just as well as I do that unexpected things can come up when dealing with unsavory characters. I do not wish to bleed you for anything that you are unable to provide, but expenses come up quickly when dealing with organized crime. They, after all, have resources that are put in place to prevent just the task that you are asking of us. I would prefer to provide your daughter with the maximum support possible to reduce any mishaps. As such, is there any way that you could provide any more resources for this job? Perhaps if you are unable to get your hands on more creds, there are some services or other resources that you could provide?
With his peace spoken, Zen sat back and waited for the reaction from Hampton and his possible soon-to-be team on this little expedition.
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Listening as Hampton goes into the details, Snake gives a nod as the man finishes and starts to speak until the late arrival cuts in, at which point he holds off until the man is finished casting wary glances at the animal foot worn by the woman.
"I understand that you may not have more than what you've offered, but two thousand split five ways is not very much. Whether you can offer more credit or not, is there anything else that you can offer?"
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Jennifer keeps back while the others engage Mr. Hampthon in conversation.
Sure, kidnapped daughter. Going through non-official channels can mean any number of things. He doesn't seem to be the type to mistrust the police for no reason. And he should be smart enough to know that simply rescuing his daughter won't prevent further retaliation - bet there's more behind this offer, i should better check it out.
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Just for a few seconds, that's enough to imprint the Information content of her surroundings on her own soul. As Jennifer opens her eyes again, her perspective has changed drastically - everything is tinted in a pale blue light shining from below, with green streams flowing without regard for gravity. Yellow light streams from herself and the troll that arrived with her - a clear sign of a information-entangled soul, capable of processing the entropy that comes with accessing other realms - commonly known as magic.
After taking a short look at the Troll, she starts to study Mr. Hampton and the room they are in.
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Eugene leaned back against the wall, watching and listening. There was something about Hampton's story that rang true and made a connection. This man had family that was missing because someone had taken them. That upset Eugene as he would give or do anything to have his parents back. As he observed, he noticed the seemingly relax and close her eyes. He smiled as he recognized the signs of someone assensing things. *Smart girl, you might have a good idea* he thought. The troll did likewise and began reaching out, observing not just the room, but the rest of the building, just in case.
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Corvus feels a mixture of bruised ego and relief that he's not the team faceman. Would be an honor, but a lot of pressure for his first run. Should we start introducing ourselves? Nah, save it till we're away from this guy. Maybe he thinks we know each other already. I wonder who's who? The guy doing the talking is obviously the face, and the troll is probably the street same, which leaves....the human guy must be the mage, and I guess that makes the woman the decker. Sounds about right. Assuming this is a well-rounded team, fingers crossed. Should I tell them I'm an adept or just keep that to myself for now? Of course, he doesn't realize that two of them have either seen his magical nature, or will in short order.
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Zen
You gauge Hampton, trying to tell if he's on the level or not. And your careful, but quick, study of his body movements, tone and inflection of voice, and all the other visual cues lead you to believe that the guy is on the level. He may not be telling the entire truth, but he's definitely not lying.
Jennifer
You check out the astral space around Hampton, and you are quite sure that he's mundane and normal. That is, you sense no presence of magic or cyberware, nor do you detect any disease, poison, or toxin within him
Scanning the room...that's a bit different and is going to require separate rolls for every person therein. Unless there is something specific you are looking at in the room?
All Characters
Both Zen and Snake speak up, asking about more money or other services that could be provided. Mr. Hampton looks at the floor very sheepishly, shame filling his eyes.
"I have given you all I can afford. If I had more money, my daughter might not be in this situation. I'm sorry it's not more. But, for what it's worth, I can at least try to clean up any wounds you may receive as a result of this job.
"I'm so sorry that I have nothing more to give..."
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Snake nods, saying "I suspected as much given the reason for your contacting us, which is why I left my statement open-ended. I'm not one to leave a young girl to suffer at the hands of thugs, so I'll still participate in this endeavor." With that, he leans against the wall, watching the others.
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"Well," Corvus says, "I guess it'll be an adventure." Better that than admitting that this is his first job, and he assumes the fixer put him on it as a test.
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Zen looks around the table, wondering what role each of his associates will play on this little job. Though not all have spoken, none look completely disinterested in helping Hampton. Guess it's time to try and move this job forward.
Mr. Hampton, do you happen to know where your daughter is being kept? Is there any information that you can provide us which can lead us in the right direction?
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Wilde nodded toward Snake. "He has spoken exactly what is on my mind as well. I am not one to leave anyone in such a predicament. I am in."
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All Characters
As each of you begin to accept the offer to take the job, you can see Mr. Hampton begin to relax and breathe a huge sigh of relief. His body language changes, going from shamed businessman to angry father, almost instantly.
"Thank you. My daughter is my life, and I have failed to properly show her that. But I promise that if you bring her back to me, I'll not let a day go by that she isn't reminded of that."
He stands up and removes a folded wad of paper from one of the pockets of the trousers that he's wearing. He begins unfolding the paper, and after a few moments he sets it down on the table. You can clearly see it's a map of Downtown. He sits back down and looks the lot of you over.
"The mobsters holding my daughter are from the Fratelli family. They control pretty much next to nothing in Downtown, except this area right here..."
He traces a small circle on the map, and you recognize that the area contains the building you are currently in. It's not a large area - maybe 10 or so square blocks - but Hampton's business happens to be right in the middle of it.
"Your best bet is to find and follow Vic Fratelli, the slime. Greasy as they come, protoypical old-school Jersey mobster. Usually hangs out at one of the local McHugh's restaurants. Corner of Seneca and 2nd. You find him - he should know where they're keeping my Moxie."
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Leaning down to look over the map once it has been laid out, Snake listens to the explanation. On hearing that following this 'Vic' may be the best bet along with a major hang-out of his, he looks up at the employer, "You happen to know which McHugh's?"
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"Sounds good Mr. Johnson...er, Hampton. We'll need to do some prep and planning before we check out McHugh's. Can we have this room, or one of the rooms here, to ourselves for an hour or so?"
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All Characters
Mr. Hampton stands, nodding a bit nervously as he does so.
"Yes, yes...you may have the use of this room for as long as you need to prepare! If you need anything, just press the black button on the intercom by the door."
He then gets up and leaves, closing the door behind him as he does so.
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As Hampton exits the room and closes the door, Snake looks at the assembled members of this team and says, "Well then, why don't we all give a run down on what we're capable of? Myself, you could call me a Designated Marksman and I've got a good set of eyes."
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Eugene smiled as he leaned against the wall. "You may call me Mr. Wilde, after the playwright and author, not in the sense of the outdoors. My talents lie along the manipulation of the arcane energies and the exploration of the Astral. I am also familiar with the various clubs in the area as well as a bit more of a sense of the what makes for fine food or wine than the average individual these days."
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Zen puts on what appear to be leather gloves and nods his head.
Zen's the name and the matrix is my game. I've also been known to talk my way out of a sticky situation, if the occasion calls for it. Feel free to keep with the introductions. I'm just going to do a quick scan to see if there's anything listening in on our conversation, but I'm still listening.
With an almost imperceptible movement of his hands, Zen executes a matrix scan, the information flooding his image link.
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"I was just going to suggest the same thing," Corvus says. "I specialize in infiltration- I sneak, I climb, I break and enter, I con my way into places. I'm also pretty good in close combat- not so great with a gun. I'm also a physical adept, but can't see into the astral- that'll be Mr. Wilde's domain." "And by the way, I assume this McHugh's will have cameras, so I'm going to alter my appearance a bit just in case. If any of you are comfortable enough in your masculinity- or femininity , and the case may be- to wear a little makeup, I'm happy to do the same for you." At this, Corvus pulls out his disguise kit and starts applying makeup, subtly altering his skin tone, adding a small fake scar at one temple, and giving himself the appearance of stubble higher on his cheeks than is facial hair normally grows.
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While his eyes were open the entire time, Zen's focus seems to fall back onto the group as he looks around. After coming out of his trance, he addresses the group.
Looks like there aren't any bugging devices. We should be able to speak freely. Anybody have any suggestions on how to pursue from here? I'll shoot a message to a Fixer and Mr. Johnson I know. They've always got an ear to the ground. My Fixer especially tends to focus more on information, so he might know something useful about the Fratellis. Any of you heard of them?
Zen brings up an AR keyboard and begins composing his message as he waits for suggestions from the others at the table.
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Snake nods, "I know that my immediate plan would be to stake out that restaurant, so if you," he motions to Zen, "could get me a description of one or more of these Fratellis, that would be an immense help."
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Corvus nods in agreement. "I agree, let's stake out the restaurant, recon it astrally and in the matrix. Once we see Vic in there, let's send one or two people to talk to him while the rest of us hang out in the area incognito, just in case anything goes down. And before we do that, let's see if we can find out why he hangs out at a McHughs of all places- maybe the family, or a friend of his, owns it?" Corvus's eyes then wander to the credstick. "Oh, and we might as well divy up this generous bounty that's been bestowed upon us. Anyone care to do the honors while I look up this McHugh's?"
Corvus begins studying his commlink intently. He's pretty sure he knows where to find out who owns the McHugh's- legally at least. He looks at the IRS business registry, Small Business Administration, and Seattle Chamber of Commerce, but has trouble navigating their matrix hosts. "Fragging government nodes. One of you techies wanna help me look up the ownership of this burger joint? I know where to look, but can't navigate these damned hosts."
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Zen looks up from his commlink, having sent out the messages to his contacts. He looks at Corvus.
I can run a quick search on ownership of the McHugh's.
His eyes lose focus again and his hands fly as he logs onto the public grid to make his search.
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As Zen searches the vast information banks of the Matrix, he is flooded with advertisements, avatars (some appear to be mere reflections of the user others extravagant and detailed), and a dark endless sky. But this world is second nature to Zen. Even in a depressing and noisy place like the public grid, Zen is able to expertly navigate this cyber world. His eyes refocus on his colleagues.
I managed to find a little info on McHugh's. Looks like the registered owner of this McHugh's is a Larry Foote. Appears he's owned the establishment for years. Also looks like he's in good standing with the McHugh's family. I guess the Fratellis are good at keeping up appearances. I'm still waiting on my contacts to get back to me. Anyone else have any information requests?
He sits back and cracks his knuckles.
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"Well," Corvus muses, "I'd say the layout of the McHugh's would be good to know. Entrances, security systems. Also, maybe the reviews mention what kind of guards and staff they have on duty, or something about who works there. I'll check some review sites"
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Zen weighs Corvus' suggestions.
If that's the info we want, we might want to do a physical recon of the place. I could try hacking in, but that might alert them to someone showing interest before we'd prefer. If we're in close enough range, I could scan their nodes without them taking any notice. We could also try some social engineering once we're on site and see if there are any chatty employees there. Let me search for any general information about what other businesses/properties are in the area.
Zen's focuses returns to the Matrix.
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So far, Jennifer has been content to observe the ongoing planning session. She's judging the professionalism of her accomplices, as well as their personalities and possible quirks and issues.
Content with the information she has so far, she budges in on the conservation.
Now then, gentlemen. Let me introduce myself: I am Jennifer O'Brien, computational occultist. If you want to be informal, i prefer Jen. You can read up on me under the codeword AGENT CANDID, if you so desire. My skill set encompasses matrix and magical ops - the former of which one of us seems to have a handle on for now - she indicates Zen with a nod - and thus i think investing the latter into our operation would be advantageous. For the current stage, i could set up remote viewing on the target area and any subject you want to locate, as well as astral observation. Oh, and if any of you need magical concealment or a glamour, i can provide those.
Having presented her spiel, Jennifer leans back again and awaits a response.
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"One more thing springs to mind," Corvus adds. "If possible, we'd like to disguise who we're working for to prevent retaliation against Mr. Hampton. We should find out who the Fratellis' enemies are. We might want to make this look like something else- a robbery, a punitive strike- and make it seem that rescuing Moxie was merely incidental. I must confess I have't been keeping up on local gang politics- have any of you?"
I might be able to ask the guys at the paper if they know anything, but it's hard to say how quickly they'd get back to me. We'll see much these guys know first.
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Zen looks over the map of the exterior area around McHugh's. This might be helpful, but before I share I'll see if I can find some info on the interior too. He continues his search for more info on McHugh's.
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Zen looks over the surrounding area map and interior layout of the McHugh's.
I've got a map of the surrounding area and the interior of the McHugh's. No info on security, but I can scan for that when we do our physical recon. If everyone gives me their comm numbers, I'll forward the data.
He waits to receive the information from the others.
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"Yes, let's all echange commcodes," Corvus agrees. He stares at the map. "What are we actually looking at here? What do all these images represent?"
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Pulling out a small notepad and a pen, Snake jots down his comm-code and sets it in the middle of the table.
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Jennifer hands out her own com-code while she saves those of the others and transfers them to a secure backup.
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Zen sends the maps out to the team.
Shall we begin our physical recon?
He glances around the table and begins to collect his things.
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"Yes, " Corvus says, "Let's go stake the place out and see if Vic's there. We've found out everything we can from over here."
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After sharing his comm code,Wilde nodded. "I agree. We should endeavor to peruse the establishment and to discover all possible quirks of the place in person."
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Giving a nod, Snake says, "Let's go then. I would advise that only a couple of us enter the establishment at first with the rest standing by outside to provide backup. One of our spell slingers can keep an eye on things 'through the veil'." With that, he turns and starts moving to return to his pick-up.
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"Well, I'm thinking first we park outside and have people do some quick astral and matrix recon before we go in," Corvus responds.
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Jennifer audibly clears her throat before addressing the others.
Look, the way i see it, that's not our best option. I gather that we have the time to start with less conspicuous methods than physical recon - the most subtle ones would be remote viewing. Yes, it takes a few hours, but i gather we have those. If not, we should position ourselves at a secure location and do astral and matrix-recon from there, rather than employing them from an exposed location right next door, don't you think? If it fails, we can always employ more direct methods later.
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Zen nods at Jen in agreement.
Does anyone have a safehouse or know of a secure location that we can use while we try matrix and astral recon? I'd rather not hack in from here, just in case a spider starts to notice my actions. The further we can distance our selves from Hampton the better.
Zen looks down and starts to key in a message on his commlink while he waits for a reply.
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"By outside, I meant down the block," Corvus sighs. "And then we can have one person stake it out from across the street for a bit while the specialists run matrix and astral recon. I wouldn't expect matrix and astral security to be too tight here. As for ritual detection magic, the issue I see with that is time. We've been told that there's a danger of this girl's fingers getting chopped off as a message to the Johnson- I don't want that to happen because we simply took too long."
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Zen brings up the map he had located of the surrounding area near McHugh's.
Looks like there's a Cafe to the northeast of the McHugh's, Pegasus Cafe, about a block and a half away. I think that's where I'll dig in while I see what information I can get from their host. I'll also be close enough to where if we decide we want to try and negotiate, I can get there pretty quickly and back up whoever else wants to go in and try to talk things over with Vic. Thoughts?
Zen looks around the table and twirls his bike keys in his right hand.
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"Well," Corvus muses, "As the team's stealth expert I guess I'll help with the physical surveillance. Though I don't really know what I'm looking for just yet. A back entrance where they may have brought the girl in, perhaps."
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All Characters
The trek to McHugh's takes you less time than you thought it would. Traffic is light tonight, and as you get closer to the burger joint the smell of grease and burned fries is enough to make even homeless and hungry people pass on a free meal. It's sickening, really, how the scent of old lettuce and soy-tomatoes hangs in the air, assaulting your noses like freedom fighters in Laos trying to take back their capital city.
Whether you walk or drive, you arrive soon enough with little problem finding the place, the neon sign in front burned out in several spots, so that instead of McHugh's you see "Mc ug 's". The side of the building would resemble brick and mortar, if you could see through the grime and dirt that has built up over several years of not being washed. Hell, even the vomit and urine stains are hard to detect through the caked-on smog and smoke from passing traffic. It's no wonder that the joint has reviews lambasting them for their lack of cleanliness.
The parking lot is relatively empty, save for a couple of pigeons nesting near the outdoor garbage bins. For some reason, they seem to think the food is ok, even though the smell tells you tetanus and diptheria shots would taste better than the food here.
Lights are low and time's short, chums. Better get to cracking, eh?
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Zen pulls into the parking lot and parks his bike near the exit, ensuring that nothing is blocking a quick escape just in case things go sour. He brings up his deck's AR display and begins to configure his programs and settings. He sends a quick message to the others through his subvocal mic.
Hey everyone. I just parked. I'm going to see what I can find on the host before going in.
He lights a cigarette, brings up the Seattle news page for looks, and opens a smaller AR window for his more nefarious actions. With a thought, the work for the night begins.
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Pulling in and parking next to Zen's bike, Snake looks over, "That works, just let us know what you find. By the way," He motions to the cigarette, "Got a spare?"
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Zen nods at Snake after completing his first assault on McHugh's.
No problem Chummer.
He pops an extra cigarette from his pack and offers it to Snake.
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"I'll scout around back for a back entrance," Corvus says. "First though, did you ay you could make an invisibility preparation for me? And are we talking mental or physical invisibility?"
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Jennifer nods in Corvus direction
"Sure, i'll make you a hand of glory. Just take it in your hand and speak the command word, or ignite it with a lighter. While it burns, any light-based information package will be randomly quantum-entangled and...yes, it'll make you invisible, against cameras as well as living beings. You can still be heard or smelled though, and with proper concentration you can still be spotted so be careful. Now excuse me a minute, i see a korean grocer down the street.
Jennifer vanishes into a tiny corner shop, coming out with a few not-quite fresh chickens after a few minutes.
Kay, this'll take a bit and might get messy she informs the others, and then get's to work with a knife, a bunch of wires and a small soldering torch.
Ten minutes of cut-off and burnt chicken-bits later, she hands Corvus a chickens foot, wires sticking out of it and rubbed in grease.
Sorry 'bout that, i usually use better tools she indicates the paw she wears around her neck as i said, just read the command word if you can speak high enochian, or ignite it yourself if you can't. I also have two spares in case anyone needs them.
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Awesome," Corvus says, "thanks. What's the command word? Something I can easily pronounce, I hope." After hearing Candid's reply, Corvus heads out behind the McHugh's, looking for signs of a back entrance while trying to act inconspicuous.