Hawatari gives Red a slight nod, glances at Jinx and does the same, then looks to the rest; this time, her head's gesture indicates 'further down the street', and she keeps moving, to circle back around to Neutral Ground while giving Red time to retrieve his other vehicle.
"T-t-thanks, omae. This gun help me so good," the man grabs the cash quickly, almost snatching it out of Red's hand. The note vahishes almost instantly. "W-w-whatchu need, man? I bin out here long time, ferrealz, know m-m-mosta the guys 'round here."
JINX nods back and moves in uncomfortably close to the man's eau de body odour and whispers.
"Tarnish."
Either from smoke damage or misuse, his voice has a rasp to it. "Where we can find him?"
"T-t-tarnish? He's the guy what fixes pieces and whatnot, eh? Older dude wit' metal arm? Heard he's got a place down at the Mall. Square dude, what I heard. Straight biz and aint' gon' backstab ya. Decent gear, too."
(1 hit, 1 one)
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Man, where was that roll during negotiation time?
I think I need a clarification - when the Johnson said 'Contained on this yadda yadda', he had just slotted the dataspike into the cheap commlink before activating the latter's display. I took that to mean that the dataspike itself, not the commlink, contained all of the necessary information, including the post-retrieval contact information. Was I wrong? Granted, I don't think the spike was ever ejected, so saying I 'collected the spike' could mean the commlink came too ...
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While home for many squatters it also developed to be the main hub for selling and trading stuff that scavengers found in the near contaminated zone around Glow City.
You know of a handful of generally "regular" establishments that reside there.
Comfortable Living is a brothel and bar, near the lower level entrance. It is run by an elf from Tarislar named Jennifer Lovely, and focuses on basic prostitution & booze. Other biz takes place but its all on the side.
Dr. Loeb (only name he's ever known by) runs a decent street clinic on the western end of the 2nd level. Less of a first-aid & treatment center, he can get his hands on cyberware and some bioware. His implantation technique is pretty damn good as well.
The Gypsies is a third-tier (local area only) street gang which hangs around the Mall in general. Pickpockets, burglars, and low-level fences, they number about 12-15 members total. They wear red and gold colors, usually scarves, but try to blend in as much as possible to help with their biz.
Numerous Temporary Stores crop up from time to time, depending on what has been scavenged or stolen. Big sellers are food (especially produce or real meat), medical supplies (more over-the-counter stuff than hardcore treatment supplies), and personal defense items. They typically set up, sell what they can, and break down as soon as they get their cred.
You are not personally familiar with Tarnish, but if he's an armorer and gun dealer, he should fit right in at the Squatter's Mall.
"Thanks chummer, appreciate the info," Red says as he pulls a crumbled 20 nuyen note and holds it for the street rat to make disappear . "I'll keep ya in mind next time I'm in the area, promise. Enjoy the night." Red says with a nod. Waiting for the man to leave, the rigger looks over at the razor boy.
"Well, that saves us a little bit of time," Red comments as he uncoils his datacord and slides the jack into his temple. Plugging the other end into his Harley, the bike and elf synch up. Leaving his/the steel beasts sensors on Passive, the rigger leaves the engine off.
Mentally, Red dials up Hawatari on his commlink.
"Hey boss, our man is in the Squatter's mall, older male, cyber arm. Sells supposedly decent gear, and does repairs. All biz, from the local rumor mill, he seems to be a "Keeps his word" kinda guy." Red informs the other elf quietly. "Should take me...," Red pauses, bringing up a map from his Harley's memory. Say, 35 minutes given traffic. You want Jinx back, or can I keep him for a little while?"
Synxol considers the man's words, steeling his eyes as he takes the man's measure.
Rolling his neck he waits for an opportune time, free of prying ears, to relay the information he has about the Squatter's Mall in southeast Redmond.
There is a coldness to his bearing that stands in stark contrast to the warmth of Red's interactions.
The older gentleman looks the slender elf woman and seems to come to a decision.
"I was trained at Sandhurst as a sniper, and those skills have seen me in good standing. Best to kill the fuzzy-wuzzies from a distance, what! For close combat I have this!"
He opens the holster at his hip to show the butt of a Ruger Super Warhawk.
S-s-sure, chummer. Thanks fer da cash." the banknote disappears just ad fast as the previous one. "Y-y-ya need sum more stuff, ya j-j-just come ask fer Jimmy 'round heres. Errybody knows m-m-me, kin getcha whatcha needs."
With that, Jimmy the street scum sinks back to his trash can fire, dreaming of what ¥30 can get him.
Nodding, mostly to himself Red lets the line go dead, and looks back at Jinx.
"Alright Captain Cutter, hop on, we're going for a quick ride, and pick up my other set of wheels," Red slides his leg over the big Harley. He half turns and pats the seat behind him. "You been on a bike before?" The rigger asks of the razor boy as the Harley wakes up.
Mounting the iron horse, the street sam sinks down into the plush comfort of its fitted passenger seat. Having been reared in the sparse life of an ascetic one would not expect him to notice such creature comforts as the Harley offers.
This is belied by the broad smile stupidly splayed across his face as he feels the excited purr of the powerful machine beneath him.
Shaking his head in negation he holds on for dear life and forgets to keep his mouth from hanging agape.
Ahlwin sets up a few dozen automated searches for relevant data across public networks: local maps, public traffic cams, back of the truck bargain deals, etc.
"If this is where we're setting up then I need pick up my work clothes. Per Miss Hawa - I'll make our whatever crapshack we get a little more user friendly."
"I believe I have all I need myself."
Having already given permission for his comlink to be slaved, Nathan/Jack finds himself with little to do as far as as preparations for the task ahead are concerned. With two of them going off to get some means of transportation and a third returning to his home to get some apparently much needed equipment, the doctor opts to simply wait for their return alongside the Japanese elf and the self-proclaimed hunter.
(4 hit, 2 ones)
"If we are dividing and meeting up at a later time, I should like to retrieve my rifle. I have a vehicle and I will give you my access number to the comm I use. You may call when a secure site is established. Ok?"
"Most important thing to remember is to lean with me, not against me, when I'm banking turns. You lean against, there's a good chance we're both eating plascrete. Which is highly overrated in case your wondering," Red says. It is the riggers only warning as the elf lets loose the reins and the steel beast takes off with a rumbling roar.
Red heads towards his secondary squat where he keeps his Bulldog currently parked. In addition to the "security" that the apartment complex has, Red had shelled out a little extra to the local gang "protecting" the parking structure. An added incentive to make sure that the GMC wasn't stripped. That, and he told the gang that he would personally feed them to a Troll run Chop-Shop if anything happened to his Van.
Synxol is a quick learner, almost immediately finding the balance and rhythm of the bike. He initially makes the mistake of primarily holding on with his arms, but soon realizes the efficiency of holding on predominantly with his leg muscles....something that is useful in the event of a firefight, since it would leave his arms free to cut people in twain.
Red drops Jinx off a few blocks away from his apartment complex at a decent Noodle shop.
"I'll be back in 10 to 15 minutes. I like this Noodle shop, so play nice while I'm gone. And get something to eat while your at it."
The rigger heads to his apartment to switch out vehicles.
Pulling into the parking structure attached to the apartment complex, "Heaven's Closed" in Redmond, Red slows his bike to a stop. Looking at couple of gang members he could see, Red nods, waiting for the their leader to make his appearance. The big, scarred up breeder doesn't keep him waiting long.
"Hoi, chummer, lovely day," Red says with a half-smile upon his face. The gang posturing that was taking place around the rigger was ignored, he'd seen it all before. The Wire in his head was tracking them, almost eager for the chance to act. "Got some beer money for you guys," the rigger, floats the big breeder 150 nuyen to his AR wallet. "Little bonus, it's been a minute since I visited, and since I can't stick around tonight, you'll have to have a few on me." the rigger chuckles. Rolling past the parting gang, Red makes his way up to the top of the five story car park.
Parking his Harley next to his GMC Bulldog, mentally putting the bike to Lockdown, popping his right truck top, and then kills the engine. Looking at the Harley, the elf pulls out the small duffle bag and closes the trunk flap. Running his fingers alone the side of the heavy duty van, Red's face was near blank. The Bulldog didn't look like it would be worth pulling apart from the outside, which was exactly what he had payed for. The engine and computer of the Bulldog were almost state of the art, a pleasant gift from Ziggy.
Touching the underside of the door handle, the Bulldog unlocks. Slipping into the driver's seat, Red glances in the back of the van, then looks in the mirror. His left hand was plugging into the control console, bringing the jack to his temple. Finishing his visual sweep as the jack clicks into place.
Leaning backward, Red slides the duffle with his Ingram next to his "To Go" bag. Making sure that they where hidden from a quick visual inspection, Red turns around. Finished with the GMC's diagnostic sweep, (and making sure the sensors didn't detect any foreign bodies attached to the van), the rigger makes his way out of the carpark. He didn't need anything from his apartment, which meant he wouldn't keep the others waiting too long.
Waving to the gang members that where starting to get their drink on, Red pulls into the road. Mentally, he dials up Jinx.
"Hey omae, could do me a solid and order me the 10 nuyen Noodle bowl? I got the notes when I pick you up. I'm driving the reddish Bulldog, semitinted windows. I'll shoot ya a message when I'm across the street." Red dictates the messages and sends it to the Razor boy.
Steaming noodles bulge out the "to go" bag lounging next to JINX' foot as he waits, a cigarette all that is standing between him and wanting to explode into a berserker rage.
Perhaps his 'ware needed to be dialled down a notch.
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Pulling into a spot across the the Noodle shop, Red sends a message to Jinx, watching for the razor boy. It was probably a good idea to a read on how the human interacted with others. Especially since for the next 24 hours all of their lives could depend on each other.
'Frag, I'm getting old if I'm thinking like that. What happened to just doing this for parts money?' The elf thinks to himself with a snort of amusement. 'It's been what, 2 years since I woke and started doing this. At least I'm still alive, and I'm planning on keeping it that way.'
"Yo, I'm across the street can't miss the Bulldog. Finish your square before you get in. No smoking in the enclosed vehicles, I keep the inside like-new. :)" Out of an almost archaic sense of humor, the rigger adds a smiley face to his message and sends it. Laughing to himself, Red "looks" around with his fan senors.
Knitting his brow JINX relocates to a different area, wondering if it was something in his mannerisms that was crafting such a negative response to his presence, or something else altogether.
Perhaps Haw had a point about how he presented himself, and the prey were smelling a predator in their midst.
"Predators", he muses as he pats his cross draw holsters as he relocates with his booty of growlies.
Ahlwin leaves his shop, slightly more bulky and slightly more annoyed toting his teenager back to her mom’s.
”Sure, grab a chair sweetums – maybe you’ve got some pointers on how I can find a needle in the barrens and not have to rip some…”
How’d he put it?”Food, medicine, basics of human civilization.”
Yea – wonder if we get hazard pay in case I need to rip off some deaf decagenarian dwarf that just got her bargain-bin doc box.
”Oh, and people may die.” Al briefly recalls Jinx and Hawa. …will die.”
Rolling back up on whoever stayed behind, Al starts gauging signal strength in the area just to pass the time.
When Jinx approaches the passenger side of the GMC Bulldog, Red unlocks the door, letting the razor boy (and the noise from the street) in.
Stomach growling when the scent of the flavored noodles his his nose, Red floats Jinx the 10 spot via his AR wallet. The elf rigger holds out his hand for his portion.
"Wiz, thanks chummer, I'm starving, I missed my normal dinner time," the elf says with a smirk. Tearing into his late dinner, Red lets the GMC's dog brain off it's leash. Entering a destination, the rigger splits his attention between hot soy noddles and his Bulldog's sensors.
"So, I'm not sure if we'll have time later, and I'm not sure if you have a "To Go Bag" all set up, but it possible we won't have time to grab it from your squat." Red pauses to slurp down a few mouthful of noodles. "Fortunately, I have a backup plan," the rigger says around a mouthful of noodles.
"I'm gonna swing by a surplus store. You can grab some cheap clothes and something to keep your face covered. For when we start the actual heavy work today. I'm not sure of your augments, but the place does sell normal gas masks and the like." The rigger chuckles dryly. "If it's legal, they'll mostly likely have it. It's on the way back to where we are meeting up with the others."
"Hey boss," Red says out loud after dialing up Hawatari. "We should be back in say 20 minutes or so. I'll keep ya updated as warranted."
Snuffing his smoke on the heel of a boot he hands over the victuals and takes a seat.
Synxol leans back in the 'dog, taking a moment to take a steadying breath from what just happened outside of the noodle shop. He was wired for sound, all but ready to explode at any second, which was not his norm.
He nods in response to Red's offer of surplus shopping, though he needs nothing. His "to go" bag minimal and on his person.
"So, Miss Hawatari," Nathaniel begins as he waits for the others to return so they can all be on their merry way, "or just Hawatari if you prefer, care for a stroll? Or would you prefer just standing about here, waiting for when our dear new friends will be back?"
Pulling into the army surplus, Red parks the Bulldog, and turns his chopsticks on his noodles with a vengeance.
"Okay, if you need to grab any last minute gear, here is your chance. If you need some suggestions, speak now or forever hold your piece," Red says after slurping down a few mouthfuls. "I'll be here waiting for the boss to message me back with the meet up location."
Mentally, the rigger was going over his map of Redmond, examining the latest update to the area. From what he could remember, it didn't look like much had changed from the last time he checked.
"Any suggestions?"
JINX gives Red the once over of the tactical gear he is carrying, turning the moment into an awkward fashion makeover special for psychos.
The tactical mask was something he was going to pick up though.
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Jinx:
Inside the rundown storefront, the entry way serves almost like a massive airlock. The front doors open easily enough, leading to a 4 meter by 2 meter tunnel. Each side wall shows scars and pockmarks, perhaps of gunfire or blades, with reinforced metal beams obviously protruding from the top. The second door stands closed, heavy metal grate over ballistic glass. A small camera tracks Jinx's entrance with a glowing red light.
"No weapons allowed inside. Keep your hands to yourself. All sales final, no arguments. This is your only warning, lethal force will be applied as needed." whomever comes across the tinny speakers under the camera seems bored, as if they've delivered this same warning a million times already.
Assuming you return any weapons to the van, the front door closes behind you before the grate raises and the ballistic glass doors slide aside.
"Welcome to Wayne's Surplus Emporium. Talk to Scooter if you need something specific." an ARO rings the human behind the counter, and multiple others open up over the racks of merchandise.
On first glance, this place looks a dump. Long racks stretch down the length of the building, stacked with all sorts of gear. You see outdoor clothes, camping and hiking gear, and all manner of such items close by. More hardware and construction type gear sits deeper in the store, with more expensive or destructive items behind the glass counter.
The human behind the counter calls out, "Hey, omae. You lookin' fer somethin' in particular?"
"Well, something to cover up your face. Not just because it scares small children, but to conceal your identity from cameras," Red chuckles. "I have a full gas mask for such things, plus, helpful if we've been gassed." Thinking for a few moments, Red taps the end of the cheap chopsticks against his chin.
"Maybe a small to medium duffle bag, some gloves. I'm not sure how you normally do things, but I prefer a stun baton if things get personal. Dead people almost always have somebody looking to even the score. Not that I'm opposed to giving people a greeting full of hot lead. Most usually have it coming," the elf shrugs his shoulders. "Plus, if you lift something interesting off, let's say a stunned corp guard, blackmail becomes a possible option."
Stirring his noodles with the chopsticks, the rigger looks at Jinx for a few moments.
"If your need some ammo, this would be a couple place to pick a few boxes or extra clips. They have standard ammo, nothing to exciting, but hey, it gets the job done." Red adds with a slight chuckle.
Weapons stowed in the Bulldog, Synxol peruses Wayne's Surplus Emporium with a trained eye for the instruments of death.
First is a duffle, which holds a heavily scarred ballistic mask, heavy gloves and stun baton. It is a passionless time of acquisition until he finds a wicked-looking KA-BAR, which causes a smirk to bubble forth.
JINX nods to Red as he walks forth the ring up his purchases and move out to calm his nerves with a smoke.
Dragging his hoodie up to cover his head, he crouches down against the wall and tries to take it down a dozen or so notches.
Hawatari's route is a lazy, time-wasting casual spiral, with Neutral Ground as the center; she'd been on her way even before Jinx and Red had finished talking to the hungry bum. The circling walk enables anyone who has the need to scoot back to the wannabe-biker bar to grab their vehicle and head out, while enabling everyone to have a place to return to - while not putting them in an unsecured location. "Please do not call me 'Hawa,'" she reiterates when it occurs, "unless we are in combat, when brevity can save a life."
As she walks, though, she slots the dataspike into her commlink and clones the information over; once Ahlwin has set up their temporary VPN, she turns the dataspike over to Ahlwin. "Please distribute the contents to everyone," she asks him, then accesses the burner commlink to peel out the Johnson's commcode.
Her walk, which eventually boils down to her and the mage, is easy and slow - a stroll as she does her own analysis of the information provided by the Johnson. "I would say that if we could find any part of the van, you could track it down magically, but I know how much of a bear that is. Right now the best chance - besides, apparently, this Tarnish gunrunner - is either some analysis of whatever cams from which we can retrieve records, or else a bit of canvanssing about the neighborhood. Ideally, this information has a 'last known' location about it; that'd give us somewhere to start ..."
Comms are linked. Maps are sketchy all over; nothing reliable. If we want anything better it will be on private feeds.
Al loads the dataspike and broadcasts location markers of the vans last known sighting.
Once Jinx had finished up, the rigger gets the Bulldog into gear and heads back to meet up with the others.
"Get some fun toys?" Red asks as they travel.
"Believe it or not, even sketchy maps are okay," replies the woman, apparently calmly (if absently) looking at the surrounding run-down tenaments and businesses. "You get an ancient map of a city, overlay it on a map of the modern city, you'll almost always find that the modern streets follow pretty much the same route as the old ones. Get something from before the first Crash as a baseline, then start swotting everything else you get as overlays at - mmm, forty percent or so, I would think. Get our target's intended and actual routes on there as hundred-percents, and backtrack the traffic cam footage - analyze what you get for unified movement in vehicles that are NOT the target." Hawatari glances sideways at the hacker. "You know, cars and such that are moving together with each other, and especially that are keeping relative distance from the target. It's tough to tail someone properly without it becoming obvious, either right away or on analysis, unless you have at least five different vehicles to do the work. Otherwise you fall into the 'gotta stay in sight range', can't turn away, all that kind of thing."
She asides to Harker, "I have to admit I really need to get wheels again. I've always preferred a bike, but a car might be better just now ..." She smiles whimsically. "Or a truck. I've never had a truck before. Could do the whole 'Japanese cowgirl' thing, maybe, what do you think?" She shakes her head in private amusement at the idea. "Anyhow. A physician-mage. Have you heard of the Bear Doctor Society? They are, admittedly, all Salish-Sidhe bear shamans, but I think you'd probably get along with them. Might help you out."
Snapping dual Ares Predators, complete with Smartgun systems, back into their quickdraw holsters draws back his trench-type coat enough for his katana to sneak a playful peek at the outside world.
The KA-BAR finds a home on his calf, which is festooned with seeping wounds pouring forth into bloody bandages hidden 'neath his clothing, relaying tales of fools that trade their humanity for small advantages.
Stun batons were not his forte, so he takes a moment to become accustomed to its use before throwing it in a deep inner pocket.
Slamming a smoke into his mouth, though he does not light it, Synxol instead finds himself fidgeting, his leg bouncing in time with nervous energy that's brand new to him after a lifetime of mindful control.
He takes a steadying breath and slowly releases it, and the bounce of his leg stops instantly.
"I appreciate your advice. What did you purchase?"
Though you have watched him numb his pain with liquor, there is no slur to his voice, or anything that has dulled the fine edge of his reflexes. The sword must remain ever perfect.
"I have never been all that competent behind a steering wheel myself," Nathaniel remarks with a shrug. And then raises an eyebrow. "Japanese cowgirl? Is that an American thing? I am afraid I am not familiar with the term."
The mage seems to consider what his new associate shares about the Bear Doctor Society. "It certainly is something to consider, yes. Although I find shamanic magic to be a bit more... let us go with intuitive when compared to the hermetic tradition. And I must admit, I rather like the structure of the latter." He smiles. "Still, I am not one to disregard something beforehand. So I may very well seek them out eventually. If for no other reason than professional curiosity."
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Vehicle and Route Specifications:
From:<REDACTED>
To:<REDACTED>
Vehicles: Percheron transport truck. Americar escort vehicle.
Staff: Transport driver (augmented), transport vehicle assistant/security. Escort driver, escort security x3.
Route: Proceed north on I-405. Merge onto SE-522 east. Exit at Maltby, Paradise Lake Rd, proceed to drop off point at <GPS COORDINATES>
There are also a few moments of video included, approx 5-6 seconds total length. The rear vehicle, a large maroon pickup truck with dual axles in the rear and a bed filled with something under tarps, suddenly slams on its brakes just after merging onto the 522. A dark blue Ford Americar follows suit, pulling off to the shoulder about 1/2 km ahead. Both vehicles sit for a second before merging back into traffic. The camera feed goes to static just after they do so.
"Nothing, just chilling for the most part, took a look that was about it, Red says in response to Jinx's question.
Sorting through a playlist in his AR assisted vision, Red puts together a selection of trog rock. Not wanting to shock Jinx and end up with several bullet holes in his speakers, the rigger slowly fades in the music.
Most might consider calling Trog-rock "music" a stretch, considering the music tends to sound like road construction on a busy street mixed with a minigun on full auto. Then, liberally sprinkled with metal ball bearings bouncing around in a dryer. The elf was feeling kind enough to keep the volume low enough so that normal conversation could take place. Plus, it kept the ear bleeding to a minimum.
"A little cruising music while we head back," Red comments as the Bulldog joins traffic.