The Twilight Chamber: A Shadowrun Story (Inactive)

Game Master JDPhipps

"Okay, lemme know when we juke, I'm a try ta skate dese fraggera right offa da road!"

Bronze primes and throws his slick grenade, full of industrial lubricant, at the front wheels of the vehicle when next it seems to make a change of direction or maneuver.

7d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 1, 3, 2, 4, 2) = 18 throwing weapons 1 hit.

I believe the grenade will scatter 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (3, 3) - 1 = 5 M, in the 2d6 ⇒ (6, 3) = 9 direction

Bogatir's barrage of bullets catches the newest wielder of the weapon in the face as he pops out of the sunroof, and he loses his balance and tumbles backward, both he and the assault cannon now flopping aimlessly in the street. While Alter doesn't twitch, a second later your commlinks see an alert that she's taken control of the pursuing vehicle as the truck lists slowly away back onto the street. Another ping lets Bronze know that Derek is about the juke the driver, and the orc lets the grenade fly; while his aim isn't perfect, it's enough that when Derek slams the break and spins a 180 in the middle of the highway that the pursuing vehicle spins out and slams into a lamp post while smoke pours from the food. Derek slams the gas again the van is speeding away from the scene, the faint sound of police sirens echoing far off in the distance.

After a while of driving to make sure no more vehicles—corporate or police—are following them, a short message from Derek comes up.

'Heading home?

Sorry about lateness in posting, I was travelling for the weekend.

Bogatir nods grimly as the second cannon wielder drops, then remains sitting, the machinegun checking corners with insane speed and precision. "Yes. Let's go home.", he replies to Derek, as he leans onto the wall, rubbing a hand on his head. I'll feel this soon..., he sighs to himself, as he lays down Molodets next to him. "So what is with the egg?", he asks Michael, pointing at the artefact-looking item.

I'm all for setting next scene in the hideout?

With the immediate danger past, Blue looks around at the others, "Is anyone hurt?"

"Nah, I'm wiz. Me an' Junkyard managed ta scoot before dey got deir hoops in gear. Dat boom ta get outta da job, Dat was a good 'un. Saved our skin, I bet."

Bronze checks his load in the shotgun, then swaps to his spare drum.

"Good drivin, Bogatir, and you too, D. An' dose trucks, dat was a stroke a genius, Alter!"

Alter's body jerks and twitches for a moment as her consciousness slithers back into her brain from the datajack. Her eyes fluttering for a moment as her hearing stops ringing and returns just in time to hear, "An' dose trucks, dat was a stroke a genius, Alter!"

Alter gives a laugh as she rights herself up in her seat, pulling the six-point harness back into position rather than cutting into her chest. "I know! That was so cool!"

Alter looks around the small van and looks over to Michael, "Hey, you said you found something eh? A bug? We can turn on the area jammer now that we're away. We should spend some time travelling around the streets before we head home."

Alter is ready to do the drop off and get paid. She's also going to turn on her Area Jammer so the bug stops sending its signal.

Sorry for my absence.

Michael calmly nods at Bogatir and Alter as they turn to him. "The egg itself is normal. Beyond being a valuable and unique piece of art, anyway. But this..." He holds up the fake part that conceals the tracking device. "This was cleverly concealed and obviously important enough to potentially affect the piece's appearance. I don't think we should just trash or drop it. I'd like to know a little about who was tracking this, if you can trace it." He nods as Alter turns on her jammer. "And then maybe send them on a goose chase."

Blue looks at the small device, "When you are done, I can take it on a trip around the city as a bird."

"I'll take us around town for a bit before I head home. We can decide what to do once we're there." Derek sits up, the jack in his head still dangling. Even so, the rigger has transitioned int VR and stretches, then rubs his neck. "Next time, someone prop my body so my head isn't neck deep in the glove box. Let's do a nice little tour of Seattle and head back to the docks, shall we? We can figure out what to do with that bug once we're safe and sound." Derek turns down a side street, and already you hear the wailing sirens falling behind.

As the hidden door to the safe house rumbles shut behind you, Aasimov whirs above you as the droid's spider-like legs cling to the ceiling. It scurries over to the other side of the room before dropping down, its one large optical sensor looking at you all unerringly. "So, you still want to work with this bug, yeah? If you want to trace it, that's gonna require letting it send a signal... which we probably shouldn't do here. I don't really want the spooks knowing where we—" Derek pauses, and scratches the back of his neck. The elf sighs and plops down on the couch. "—Where I live, you know? We might be able to get some basic details just from the hardware they used, but other than that there's not a lot to do without letting it send a signal. We could take the van out for a spin to take a look at it, I guess. As long as we're moving, it's unlikely they'll find any trace of us in the short span of time it'll be broadcasting."

"Other than that, not much else to do other than weight for the drop. The Johnson wanted to wait a week or so, to let the trail get a little colder before we pass it off. Unless you all have things to do, you can stay here until we make the exchange."

Bogatir remains mostly silent for the rest of the van trip. His motionless is interrupted by the occasional small spasm, which results in a frown momentarily appearing on his face, replaced a split second later by a sad look of acceptance.

As the rest settles back into the hideout, he takes off his armour and gently places the machinegun on the ground. His hands disappear in his backpack, taking out a ridiculously out of fashion cosmetics bag. He slowly sits down on a rickety coach. As he opens the box, he starts pulling out several pillboxes, two syringes and a small bottle of water. He sighs deeply, as he mentally sends the command to disengage the move-by-wire protocols.

A moment later, the orc slumps back, a trickle of blood trailing from his nose. The lighting fast reflexes and precise movements seem like something out of a vision as a trembling hand moves up to wipe it. He reaches for the pillbox and gives it several unsuccessful attempt to open it. Surrendering, he slumps back into the chair, continuing to unnaturally shake, as he looks at the group, a bitter smile on his lips. I'll just... do it later. It should be alright..., he thinks, as he clears his throat. "Eh...", he says quietly, the bolsterous shouts in the van seeming like distant memory. "Unless you need backup for tracking trip... I'll take a small break, yes?", he lets out, his eyes staring in the distance at the people moving. I wonder what Dr. Mendez will say about this particular... endeavor. "I still got it, right?", he mentions to nobody in particular as he remembers the fresh memory of cutting down the man with the assault cannon. "I still got it." A moment later, he reaches for the pillbox with shaking hands again, continuing his struggle.

For a few moments Blue is utterly unable to reconcile the Bogotir he knows with this seemingly broken and shaking old man fumbling with medications. Not acting like a junkie, but what is...what...how... Unable to even really frame his thoughts into words that do not sound cheap and cliche even in his own head, Blue forces them down and sits beside the older man. Without a word he gently takes the pill bottle from Bogotir's fingers and opens it before handing it back. Blue speaks softly as he holds it out for Bogotir, "You've still got it, old friend."

Alter gives a nod as she waits for Bogatir to get situated with his pills before turning back to Derek, "We'll take it out for a spin... Something still isn't adding up. I mean, we're good but we practically waltzed out of that drek."

Alter stands up and walks past Bogatir to give him a pat on the shoulder, "You rest, I've got this part." Giving a bit of a grin as she remembers the last time she said that.

Once Derek and Alter are back in the van and rolling for a bit, she turns off her area jammer and immediately starts tracing the signal.

Hacking: 19d6 ⇒ (6, 1, 2, 1, 3, 1, 5, 2, 3, 4, 2, 4, 5, 1, 1, 4, 3, 6, 5) = 59 = 5 hits.

"Waltz? Hah, dat was sum fancy dancin' on da streets, fer sure. I dunno who dose goons was prepped fer, but a boom-exfil and a runnin' gunfight on da road, wit' a fast dump inta da Barrens? Seems like we wuz pro in dat part, at leas'."

Bronze strips off his outer armor layers and begins to clean it of the sewer grime. Once satisfied with that, he breaks down the Enfield and cleans it, then reloads the used drum magazine.

"Any idea on our wait time? Week, month, more?"

Back at the safe house, Michael looks at Bogatir with concern, but he doesn't say anything. Comforting words were never exactly his forte, and it's been some time since he saw the old ork. An attempt at sympathy might console him, or it might stoke the fires that Michael knows Bogatir still has burning inside... and Michael himself isn't sure which he'd prefer.

So instead, he simply dresses for the new outing, exchanging his suit for his armored camouflage attire, and slotting some extra magazines for his pistol into the pockets. He also picks up his ballistic mask, figuring it might be good to take along for some additional protection. Once he's ready to go, he turns to join Alter and Derek, with all of his gear either worn or carried in a briefcase. "I'm ready when you are."

In the van, Michael sits on standby, ready to assist as needed, or just keep an eye out for trouble. When Alter turns off the area jammer, he nods and dons his mask.

"Johnson wanted a wait a week before the drop. We're making the drop at a parking garage about a block from the Seattle aquarium. There's a black van on the seventh level, marked with a placard for the aquarium and two tickets on the windshield. I've got a code to unlock the trunk, where we'll place the Dragon's Egg. There's a case inside that will broadcast to the Johnson once we've done our part." Derek follows Bronze's lead and pulls off his jacket, rubbing the site of his former gunshot wound tenderly. He tosses the jacket to the side and stands up, coming back with a bottle of soy cola. "You ever notice that even once you're patched up, magical healing still leaves a sting? I'll have to go easy on it for the next couple days..."

Out in the sprawl, Alter takes a crack at looking into the transmission data of the bug. She eats through several levels of proxy transmissions, until the data stream ends for a while in Germany. She's about ready to give up as the data goes through a second round of proxies, and it settles back in North America. She narrows in on Tir Tairngire, somewhere farther down the Pacific coast, before the transmission goes dark and she starts being bombarded by error messages.

Bogatir nods solemnly as Blue opens the pillbox for him. "Thank you...", he says after a small moment of clearing his throat. Nodding slowly at Blue, he smiles, his eyes suggesting both worry and pride. "You do, rebyonka", he chuckles. Taking out two small orange pills, he swallows them with a sip of water and leans back down. A few minutes later, his trembling seems to calm itself to a manageable level, and he finishes with his medical procedures with seemingly too practiced motions. How many days did I lose? Either too many or not enough. He sits staring in the distance for a moment longer, then a determined look sits on his face. "Bah!", he lets out, standing up. "I will make tea. Does anyone want?", he asks, slowly rising himself up, shuffling slowly towards the kitchenette.

As Derek comes back to regale regarding the meet, Bogatir is sitting by the boarded window, eyes glued onto a screen with an ancient trid show on it. "This is not true!", he barks at the screen with arms raised. "Badgers weren't around in the Second Euro War! They rolled them out in field at the end of it, but they weren't in combat!", he points towards the APC showing on the screen with clear resentment. "Expecting Ares to display history properly. Bah! Next thing they'll say is they make best automatic weaponry and fighter jets! Bah!", he mutters, turning off the screen and slowly standing up. "So, down the coast?", he asks, staring once again through the boarded window. "Ha! I haven't left town in years! When do we go?", he asks, more in the tone of someone whose kids are taking him to a field trip, rather than an experienced shadowrunner thinking about an assault on a corp facility. Sipping his tea, he nods at Derek. "So egg is elven, yes? Or even older...", he mentions, staring at the object. "Would be good to have it out of hair soon, then.", he remarks. "Hmm. In such case, I have meeting on Tuesday, and...", he stops in for a racking cough, shoving away a bloodied tissue a moment later. "I'll be ready to go. But tonight!", he says happily, pointing towards the fridge. "We drink! To friendship! To victory! To high speed chases!... And to a life of adventure!" The last phrase sounding a bit more melancholic than the previous, as he shuffles to the fridge, pulling out a large bottle of vodka and reaching for shot glasses. Despite the trembling, the old Russian manages not to spill a single drop. "So! How have last years been for you all? Good, I hope?", he asks as he places the six shots on the table at once, then sits down in a chair.

Ready to move to the meet when you are! I could probably write some story snippets for Bogatir while he's waiting for the break, but it's looking like a busy week for me, since I'm moving town and starting a new job.

"Tea? Sure, if ya wanna make da stuff. I t'ink I got sum soykaf kickin' round som'ere mebbe. Lemme check."

Bronze disappears into his former squat, tossing things around for a minute before emerging with a vacuum sealed can and a small brown bottle.

"Wiz, I foun' da 'kaf, and a bottle a cheap synth-scotch. Dis stuff jus' gets better da older it sits, neh?"

The big ork drops some of the soykaf powder into cups and waits for the water to boil.

"I ain't been runnin' much lately, ta be hones'. Got sum muscle work wit' one a da syndicates, scare off da normies, collect sum debts an' stuff. Ya know, lefbreaker work. Ain't been gran', but pays da bills and keeps me outta trouble and away from da fuzz, so dat's been good enuff."

When presented with the shot, he downs the vodka in a smooth gesture, grinning over his tusks at Bogatir.

"Jus' like ol' times, chummer."

Bogatir nods solemnly as Blue opens the pillbox for him. "Thank you...", he says after a small moment of clearing his throat. Nodding slowly at Blue, he smiles, his eyes suggesting both worry and pride. "You do, rebyonka", he chuckles. Taking out two small orange pills, he swallows them with a sip of water and leans back down. A few minutes later, his trembling seems to calm itself to a manageable level, and he finishes with his medical procedures with seemingly too practiced motions. How many days did I lose? Either too many or not enough. He sits staring in the distance for a moment longer, then a determined look sits on his face. "Bah!", he lets out, standing up. "I will make tea. Does anyone want?", he asks, slowly rising himself up, shuffling slowly towards the kitchenette.

Blue smiles at Bogatir, an old amusement dancing in his eyes, "You know I still do not speak russian, yes? But I will drink with you anyway. No soy though, please."

"Johnson wanted a wait a week before the drop. We're making the drop at a parking garage about a block from the Seattle aquarium. There's a black van on the seventh level, marked with a placard for the aquarium and two tickets on the windshield. I've got a code to unlock the trunk, where we'll place the Dragon's Egg. There's a case inside that will broadcast to the Johnson once we've done our part."

Blue narrows his eyes at the description of the drop site, "Is the rest of our payment there as well? I do not like this arrangement. I will scout the area before we go, both astrally and shapechanged. It sounds too easy to turn into a trap or ambush. And elves are notoriously tricksey, though not as much as Germans or Dragons." He grins a little in acknowledgement of the irony in his statement.

Derek follows Bronze's lead and pulls off his jacket, rubbing the site of his former gunshot wound tenderly. He tosses the jacket to the side and stands up, coming back with a bottle of soy cola. "You ever notice that even once you're patched up, magical healing still leaves a sting? I'll have to go easy on it for the next couple days..."

Blue smiles ruefully, "Yes, the body does not approve of being damaged, nor does it approve of being healed so quickly, and so it complains. You should be right as rain by the time we need to make the drop."

Alter's eyes flutter as she comes back to reality after shutting down her trace. Her hand flicking the switch on her area jammer to turn it back on as she says, "The signal goes to Tír Tairngire before I lose it completely. It did go through Germany but that was a red herring I think. So not dragons... elves."

Smiling a bit, Alter shrugs, "We can dump the tracker now, don't need to keep that albatross around our necks."

Alter is ready to go, we've got all the information we can get I think.

"Actually, I have an idea of what we should do with it. Could you find us a Lone Star cruiser?" Michael gives a thin, quick smile. "Just in case they can still track it, might be good to send them on a chase."

Basically my idea/plan is that we'd find a Lone Star car or something, and I'll sneakily stick the tracker somewhere inconspicuous--underside of the bumper, in the tailpipe, something like that. Ideally it'd be a case where nobody's in the car to even notice my approach.

Stealth Skill: 11d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 5, 6, 4, 4, 2, 5, 1, 2, 6) = 42 4 hits; I'd guess Palming here, but if it's Infiltration that gets me more dice.

"Elves, huh? That's odd; I wonder why they had a bug on an old Germanic relic on loan from a AA corp? That's... above our pay grade, right? No reason to worry about it, far as I'm concerned." Michael deposits the tracer without any trouble, leaving it for the unsuspecting Lone Star goons to deal with the problem.

When Blue comments on the magic, Derek shrugs. "I hope so. The money's on a credstick that'll shoot out of the case once we put in the Dragon's Egg. From there, we can deposit it on our own. No paper trail, right? We can scope the place out first though, sure thing. I'll stop the van outside the parking garage so we can do surveillance if you want. Probably not a bad idea, all things considered. This whole thing doesn't really add up, if you ask me. We already drank our sour milk, no reason to do it again."

-----

A week later, the group sits in the van again outside the parking garage. Derek pulls the van over on the curb, letting Blue and anyone else out to survey the area before they do the drop. "If we've got any problems, let us know and we can come up with a plan. Sound wiz to you guys?" Derek spots a security camera on one of the levels and points it out to Alter. "Cracking into those shouldn't be a problem for us, if we want some more eyes on the place. You think?"

If you want to do any surveillance, go for it. Once you do, or you decide to pass on that, let me know.

As the team begins to scout the place, and ready for the drop, Michael exits the van with his camo suit and mask on. Even if things weren't so fishy, it's a good idea to have someone in the wings in case a drop goes wrong... and with everything happening the way it has, someone ready to come out and surprise might be just what the group needs. So he looks for an inconspicuous way to get into the parking garage and move for the spot, his pistol concealed at the ready.

Basically wanting to find an ambush/overwatch position, not too far from the drop, probably on the same level, but unnoticed if possible. I'll roll a few skills that might be needed.

Climbing: 7d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 4, 5, 2, 6, 2) = 28 3 hits
Gymnastics: 8d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 6, 2, 3, 5, 1, 1) = 23 2 hits
Infiltration (Urban): 15d6 ⇒ (5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 3, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 5, 6, 5) = 65 11 hits, critical success!

Just posting to get us moving again. Both Bogatir and Blue expressed interest at one point in exploring and taking a look around, so I'll give them a little time to do that after I give Michael some info.

Michael heads out of the van and into the parking garage without any trouble, with even his team losing sight of him for quite a while. He climbs up the outside of the structure and stands up, before hooking himself up and around onto the higher level. Hanging on the outside of the parking garage, he spots both the drop site—the van is sitting alone on this level of the garage, just waiting for the team to make the exchange—and a good ambush site. He first spots an overhang not too far from the drop site that he can haul himself into that would keep him obscured from any potential assailants until it was too late, but he also notes that the apartment building over to the left of the garage has an excellent overwatch position for a sniper. As he looks at it, though, he realizes it might be too good of a spot; his suspicions are confirmed when he catches the glint of light reflected off the lights from the nearby aquarium. It only lasts a second, but Michael knows—even though he isn't quite sure how—that it's almost definitely the glint from a sniper rifle's scope. It's clear the sniper hasn't noticed him, considering he hasn't been shot, and he has a straight shot to the rooftop if he wants to investigate before the team heads in.

Alter nods as she hooks into her Commlink and does the familiar unconscious slump into her seat. Her avatar winks into existence in the Martrix and Alter quickly gets to work. Searching about the immediate area for any signals, hidden or otherwise.

Alter is going to take an Analyze Node test looking for the node connected to the cameras. Looking to gain access as well so will do a Hack on the Fly for Security access after that when its her turn next.

Matrix Perception: 19d6 ⇒ (2, 6, 4, 6, 6, 3, 5, 6, 1, 1, 2, 6, 2, 6, 2, 2, 4, 2, 1) = 67 7 hits

Hack on the Fly: 19d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 5, 4, 4, 2, 1, 6, 6, 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 1, 6, 2, 5, 4) = 70 8 hits

Blue slips out of the van and, standing out of direct line of sight to the doors, strips out of most of his clothing and gear. Once he is in just his pants, he pulls the magic around himself, shifting his form into that of a large housecat.

Force 5 Shapechange: 11d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 5, 5, 3, 2, 5, 4, 4, 1, 6) = 37, 4 successes.
Drain (DV 4): 13d6 ⇒ (6, 3, 6, 5, 4, 4, 3, 2, 5, 1, 3, 3, 5) = 50, 5 successes, no drain.

The large tomcat, a maine coon, trots down the alley in the direction of the parking garage. Blue makes his way to the correct floor, keeping to shadows and skirting around things like a cat would do.

Con (to act like normal cat): 8d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 5, 1, 2, 2, 5, 5) = 29, 4 successes.
Infiltration: 8d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 2, 2, 6, 5, 1, 6) = 32, 4 successes.
Acrobatics: 6d8 ⇒ (1, 6, 3, 1, 2, 8) = 21, 2 successes.
Perception: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11, 2 successes.
Assensing: 4d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 3, 2) = 12, 1 success.

Alter slumps over and feels herself manifest in the Matrix, before easily spotting the node for the security cameras—and, upon closer inspection, all of the electronics in the parking garage—and beginning to work on it. She hacks through the security easily, and holds her virtual breath for a moment until the security clearance pings through and gives her access without travel. She finds several security cameras on each level, as well as access to the prior tapes and a few cameras on the outside of the building as well. Most point toward the alleyways or out toward the front, but presumably she could articulate them to look elsewhere.

Blue strips down and transforms himself into a cat, taking a look around the garage on his own without anyone being the wiser. He does spot one or two people getting out of their cars or getting ready to leave, but most don't even notice him and the others don't give him a second glance. He, much like Michael, finds the van they're supposed to make the drop in without any trouble. The van seems normal enough as far as Blue can tell, and with the ability to get around underneath he's tentatively sure it isn't rigged to blow. With a hop up onto the hood, he can take a look inside and see the car is bare of any identifying paraphernalia, and looks either new or meticulously taken care of.

"I think we have company." Michael's voice comes in over the commlink, barely more than a whisper. "I spotted a glint on the next roof over. Could be a rifle scope, could be nothing. If anyone's up there, though, they haven't spotted me yet."

"Rifle, huh? Wonder if da drek face wan's a high cal'ber h'llo ta da face. Lemme take a peek, see if I kin make out what's what."

Bronze takes a moment to check his rifle and make sure everything is powered, lined up, and the APDS magazine is in place before sliding out of the vehicle and taking a look.

Shadowing (?) To sneak out: 7d6 ⇒ (1, 1, 6, 3, 5, 2, 4) = 22 2 hits

Peeception: (glasses have vision enhancement 3 & vision mag, contacts have thermo if needed.) 11d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 1, 5, 5, 6, 5, 2, 4, 4, 2) = 41 4 hits

Taking up a spot at the rear of the car, he lines up his Ares Desert Strike in the direction of the possible shooter and gets ready for action.

Shoving a handful of pills down his throat and taking a long drink of water, Bogatir gets ready to leave the van. Breathing lightly, he shoulders the heavy machinegun on his shoulder and pulls down his helmet, as he methodically gets ready to leave the van. "Bronze, if you can't see them straight away, leave it for... scouts, yes?", he smiles, shrugging. "It is perhaps Johnson, sniper in waiting is normal, if unbusinesslike, is it not?"

"And besides. I can't find glasses, so no sniping for me.", he chuckles, another glimpse of the old man as he slowly readies himself, then with a muffled cough and a shake engages his move-by-wire systems. It feels so good, yet is so bad... Like life, I suppose..., he muses, before taking off the safety. "I am ready."

After checking the area, Blue finds a deeply shadowed corner where he can still observe the van and summons a handful of Watchers. Primus he sends to report to the others in the van and return with their message, Secundus he sends to report to Michael and return with any message, Tertius, Quartus, Quintus, and Sextus he places around the area to discreetly monitor the ramps up and down from the van, and the next floor up and down.

Bronze takes his time and lines up his scope to check out the roof, but he's not at a great angle; the ork is fairly certain he sees the rough outline of a man's head holding some sort of rifle, but most of his body is obscured by the lip of the building. It's not easy to tell where the man is aiming, either. He does have a shot on the man's head if needed, though.

<<"I can't tell who he is, but we've definitely got company up on the roof. He seems to be watching the exits, so maybe he's not here for us? I can't be sure without getting closer, but that risks being seen. Do we want to do that?">> Michael's voice is hushed through the comms, and he grunts as he tries to get a better look. <<"Good idea looking for explosives. If it's that clean, I'd guess it's new; probably not registered to avoid any chance of getting picked up by Lone Star. There's no doubt that's our drop point, then. I can keep an eye on our friend on the roof while you all bring the cargo, or I can go have a chat with him. That is, if Bronze's trigger finger isn't itching.>>"

<"Got a headshot lined up. Not perfect, but I think I kin take 'im, needs to. We gots 'structions here? Drop da thingy, get some credsticks?">

Bronze takes aim and keeps ready to fire if the sniper shows hostile movement.

Bogatir nods quickly as he shoulders his machinegun. <<"Michael. Stay distance and keep eye on the man, yes? If he aims for us. Surprise him then. Bronze, you watch and counter-snipe, too?">>", whispers the ork, before nodding at the rest. "Let's go. See man about egg.", he laconically states, starting to walk towards the meeting point with a slow movement, akin to that of a big cat. "Blue and Alter, we go and talk, poydyom?", he suggests to the others. "We speak softest.", a smile appears on the ork's face, as he taps the stock of his terribly large-caliber stick.

Ready to proceed towards the meeting point. I suggest our two keenest eyes keep an eye on the sniper, since they can be in touch, and the rest of us are the people good at negotiating.

After the Watchers return with the messages, Blue sends them back to Michael and Bogotir with another.

"We're dropping the piece in the back of the van, I've got a code to open it; 44059. There's a keypad on the trunk door." Derek looks around, uneasiness painted on his face. "He didn't say anything about security, either, but they rarely do. He could just be here to make sure we make the drop." Derek slings his submachine gun around his neck and climbs out of the van after the others. "Let's go drop this off, eh?" There's no further response from Michael about the plan, but you all know the man well enough—as well as you can know a man who doesn't know himself, anyway—to realize he'll follow the plan you laid out without any surprises.

While Blue waits at the car, his ears perk up while he waits for the team to show up. Down below in the garage, he's certain he can hear footsteps, and they aren't from his team. He hears the sounds of jingling chain and the telltale sound of someone checking their weaponry; it doesn't sound like corporate goons to him at first glance, since they'd likely be quieter or be moving with more precision, but that doesn't mean they aren't there to geek the team while their backs are turned.

Bronze hears Michael's voice in his ear. <<"Sniper is on alert, but not from us. Second floor, west side. He looks like he's about to move to get a better view. Keep an eye out.">>

Alter sits up from her slumped position as she transfers the camera feeds and controls to an ARO on her glasses HUD. Stretching her body as she stands up, Alter nods and takes a moment to fiddle with the ARO controlling the cameras, pointing them in such a way that she can lay out a path for us to walk that wont put us on camera. "Sure, Bogatir, lets go. I always enjoy being watched through a high powered scope." Her sarcasm doing its best to hide her nerves.

<Ain't da scope ya gotta worry 'bout, A. Da pointy bit comin' hot an' fas' es da bit ya gotta worry 'bout. I gotcha covered, anyways.>

Seeing the enemy sniper turn his attention away from their area, Bronze follows his eyeline without changing the position of his rifle.

10d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 1, 3, 4, 5, 2, 5, 3, 6) = 39, 4 hits with Low-Light, vision magnification, and darkvision.

Do my watchers on the next higher and lower floors of the parking garage report any activity?

With a potentially hostile sniper watching the location of the van, Blue wants a little more protection for the exposed team. He will move back from the van to where he will see his approaching allies before the sniper would be able to see them, while dispatching his watchers once more with messages.

Bogatir nods. "Hasty, perhaps.", he mumbles, as he gets the message from Blue. "<Copy. Will keep eye out, avoid crossfire.>", he replies, as he nods at Alter, raising his hand to indicate he'd cover her physically as they move. "Point where to go, ребенок", he whispers, as he lowers Molodets on his hip. "No Russian.", he can't help but make a horrible joke, a dry smile hanging on his lips.

As Alter and Bogatir head into the parking garage to take a look around, Bronze does his best to find what the sniper on the roof is looking at. He doesn't have a great sight line, but in between the concrete slabs he does notice a group of individuals—no more than a dozen, but its hard to tell—heading up toward them from a few floors down. Michael moves forward to keep eyes on the sniper while Bronze tries to get a better view, and his voice comes in over the comms again. <<"He's moved down, farther toward the other side of the building. I don't think he's here for us.">> Blue checks in with his watchers, but they hadn't noticed anything on those floors until now. A group of gangers, most of them heavily chromed, is heading up toward their floor. They all carry weapons on them openly, but they don't seem prepared for an ambush. It's unlikely they're here for you, either.

Alter and Bogatir start to head up to their floor along with Derek, but the three of them also notice movement. Two vans have pulled up another side of the building, and they can hear a few voices off in the distance. It's unclear who they are or what they want, but they don't seem to be very worried about people knowing they're there.

Bogatir hunkers down, noting for the others to follow suit. <<"I suggest we sit and wait for comm. Derek, do you have contact with Johnson? If they're here for him, we may need to extract him.">>, he asks the rigger, bracing on a column. <<"Let's wait for gang to make move. Information is better weapon than most.">>

GM - what do we know about meeting the contact? Have they told us a name and a location where we need to drop the egg, or are we meeting their representative on the parking lot?

<Fraggin' lotta heads comin' our way, chums. We fightin' dese fools, we bettah get sum bettah covah, get 'im inna crossfire. Else, drop da t'ing, grab da cred, an' les' scram!>

Bronze shifts his aim to where the armed men will be cresting the stairway, holding the crosshairs about chest high in the middle of the entranceway.

<Got da firs' fragger sticks 'is mug out an' gets unfrien'ly like.>

Flicking an ARO over the doorway, Bronze indicates his angle of cover with a stylized crosshairs icon.

You were told to just drop the loot in the SUV and doing so would release your payment. No one, as far as you know, is there on the behalf of the Johnson that got you the job.

<<"I hear a second group, too.">> Michael whispers through the comms, and you can hear the light breathing that suggests the man is on the move again. "<<Maybe half a dozen. It's hard to tell, but I'm not hearing any 'ware. I don't think they're here together, or at least they're not from the same group. I can get behind them, if we want to open fire. Should I engage?">> Derek leans over to Bogatir, his voice a whisper.

"No Johnson here, omae. Not as far as I know. We're just supposed to drop the goods and beat it. Maybe someone heard about the hit and they're here to steal it from us?"

<<"In which case, we drop case, we beat it. We don't get paid, Johnson's problem.">>, laconically states Bogatir, <<"Do not engage.">>, he replies over the comms, as he nods at Alter. "If there is no Johnson, then we do our job.", he quietly tells the rigger, as he turns to the two people next to him. "I will go put cargo in trunk. Bronze has my back. You stay in cover, Alter." The massive ork with the massive machinegun moves with the sound of a cat, as the ARO on his visor guides him towards the van. Taking cover behind the van itself, Bogatir reaches to open the trunk. [i]Almost there..[/ooc]

Blue is in the garage in the shape of a cat covering your approaches to the van.

As Bogatir passes Blue's position, Blue summons his magic once more, weaving a protective armor over Alter and Bogotir.

Spellcasting with one sustained spell.
Force 5 Armor: 9d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 6, 2) = 33, 3 successes.
Alter gains 3/3 armor rating that stacks with no encumbrance.
Drain (DV 5): 13d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 2, 4, 1, 1, 2, 6, 6, 1, 1, 2, 5) = 39, 4 successes, 1 stun.

Spellcasting with two sustained spells.
Force 5 Armor: 7d6 ⇒ (2, 1, 3, 1, 3, 5, 3) = 18, 1 success. :(
Bogatir gains 1/1 armor rating that stacks with no encumbrance.
Drain (DV 5): 13d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 6, 3, 2, 1, 1, 6, 3, 6, 1, 2, 5) = 46, 5 successes, no drain.

"Yah, wiz. Drop da ting, an' let's bounce. Ain't gettin' paid ta scrap wit deserve fools, no sense wasting cred an' ammo fer nuthin."

Alter nods her head as she holds her pistol quietly by her side. Finger off the trigger for the moment as she pulls up the ARO of the cameras, moving the ones that aren't a problem for her team at the moment to try and keep an eye on the other two groups.

Bogatir creeps toward the van as the other two groups seem to be converging, albeit slowly, on his location. He pops the trunk as quietly as possible and the hydraulic hinges let out a quiet hiss while the door comes up. Inside, he sees an open case for the egg—a small velvet-lined carrier built into the back of the van—and a small safe. When he deposits the egg, the case quietly snaps shut and a small LED display lights up on the top of the case. Several numbers flash in sequence for a few seconds before it settles on a series of six numbers; 746331. The safe next to him prompts a passcode, the six-character combination available for input via some old-fashioned combination dials on the front. The big ork looks around, and no one seems to have spotted him yet.

Perception: 6d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 4, 5, 5, 4) = 23
Perception: 6d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 2, 3, 2, 2) = 15

Bogatir sighs quietly as he sees the display settling on a number, rather than a timer. <<"It has accepted the egg. I'll get payment now, whatever it is.">>", he relays over the comms, as he reaches to put in the numbers in the safe. If safe doesn't take numbers, I take safe., he decides, as his metal fingers run through the old lock.

Bogatir dials in the numbers on the front of the safe, doing his best to remain out of sight of the others in the parking garage. Once he finishes, the front of the safe unlatches and opens the safe door. Inside, he pulls out a small case, and inside he sees the payment; while it looks like a pile of random drives, Bogatir has been running long enough to recognize digitized bearer's bonds. They're untraceable, and more importantly essentially belong to whoever's holding them. There's no way for anyone to trace the money back to the Johnson... or the team. What they lack in being purely digital they make up for in their covert nature.

With the case in hand, everyone hears another transmission from Michael, still in the rafters. <<"You all might want to get to the truck. It looks like our sniper found his target. This is about to get bloody. I'm headed down now.">>

<"Copy that. Bogatir, git back to da ride, I'll cover ya. Mike, ye an' A gon' make it, or we meet up an' grab ya elsewhere?">

Bronze does as he says, keeping his rifle aimed at the newcomers direction, and his ears tuned for outside influences approaching.