Ripples in the Lake: A Seattle Adventure in the Sixth World (Inactive)

Game Master Evgeni Genadiev

"Right-o, all. I'm off to stock up on a few necessities, I'll drop you a line for the pickup, Road-Rage. Any last minute purchases, hit me up, I'll see what I can do. Null persp, chummers. Be seeing ya soon."

With a wide smile, Nomad leaves the bar and his pretty much untouched beer. Hopping onto his Mirage, his overcoat flaps in the wind as he sets out for home.

Once at his desk, he lays out a selection of equipment and gear, running down a checklist of sorts as he sets things here and there on the worn bedsheets.

"Low-class, biker wear should work. Definitely gotta bring the Guardian and mags, maybe the Colt? Forget the briefcase, go with pockets and the MedBag. Can always stash the extra stuff in RR's big truck, eh. Aight, just gotta grab some gloves, maybe a backpack, and a mask. Should be just fine."

He heads out to the nearest KongWalMart, picking out some cheap Mekanix gloves, a day pack students bag, and an off-the-shelf ballistic mask in a matte grey color. Attired in his 'dress-down' garb, Nomad strikes a much different figure than before.

He sports a worn and scuffed synthleather armor jacket over a button up flannel shirt and construction-type heavy duty pants. His fancy shoes are gone, replaced with sensible black work boots. His Colt pistol sits snug at the small of his back, while the Guardian hangs on a shoulder rig under his left arm. All his pockets, of which there are many, house various trinkets and toys, while he carries the day pack in one hand and the MedBag medkit in the other.

Flagging down Road-Rage's vehicle as it approaches, he enters with the same confident smile from before, now on a much more weathered and scruffy looking face.

"Gotta look the part, no? Thanks again for the lift, man."

Glass directs Road-Rage to a street just north of where Renton becomes Redmond.
"Keep the meter running, chummer; I'll be back before you know it."
He moves quickly to one of the buildings, and is inside for barely a couple of minutes before reappearing with a pack that has a crossbow strapped to the one side and a couple of packs of bolts strapped to the other.

Road-Rage beckons anyone getting a lift to climb aboard the heavy trogged out van.

The tech-eyed amongst you clock modified driver seat, rigger interface and a drone rack holding a MCT Fly-Spy.

Seating options inside the Titan is plentiful, but the interior is littered with duffel bags and tool boxes holding a plethora of tools, ammo boxes and sundry items like a heavy chain, sledgehammer and mini welder that you presume (hope)

A rolled up sleeping bag completes the hob's HQ on wheels.

Once on the road he drives slow and precisely along the route of stops. At a timely opportunity whilst waiting for one of the crew, the hob hauls off his bike courier leathers and dons his other "work gear" - coveralls and armoured kit.

As he changes those present notice the dermal plating running along his forearm up to the back of his neck. To finish he pulls on his Krime Gloves, hoop-kicker boots and slides a heavy blade to his hip alongside his Colt L36.

"Not loaded for bandersnatch but give right wrong impression..."

Pick Ups

With each successive pick up Road-Rage flashes a toothy grin and beckons them onboard;

@Nomad: "More my speed there chummer. Won't need you to hide now when we pass my peeps."

@Glass: "Flatbow... Nice. That your go-to Glass? You keep surprising omae."

@Wraith: Road-Rage waves her off with a shake of his head. "I pass t'anks. Don't go well when peeps in my grill for right or wrong reasons. Got tunes, so I wait here."

He tips the nod to his passengers;

"Don't mind me. Head in if you want to see some skin ahead of meet."

"I'm good, thanks, mate."

"No neun avo caavch ij diukeauke"

Nomad straps himself into one of the large seats and secures his bags with the rest of the stuff kicking around.

"This ride is pretty sweet man, real nice. Been working a while to scrape up this cred, keep it nice and tight, too. I'm impressed, for real."

"The bow's a go-to when I don't want my other talents to show, yeah." After a brief pause, Glass smirks slightly "Or, you know, for getting lunch."
Looking round the van, his eyes linger on some of the tools. "Nice ride. Homely, and some useful toys. Could have done with the welder last week."

Road-Rage mugs a jagged grin at the praise;

"T'anks chummers. Cost me for sure, but lucky had some cred stashed away... from before. Courier work sure not pay for this good."

He rumbles a chuckle to himself before wryly adding;

"You shoot soy-dogs with that? Huh... So what work you need welder for? Fixing things I guessing."

"I'm more likely to be taking something apart, but sometimes you just need to make sure something stays together. Ended up kludging a fix""

Dawn rides with the big orc as takes the others around. As they park near the peeler bar Wraith has gone into, she admires his vehicle.

"Real chill ride Rage. Looks like you did ok for yourself."

Looking over at the other elf, she gives a giggle.

"Come on Glass...your giving us Elves a bad name with all that archery stuff!! Seriously though, nice choice for a stealth weapon. These hand cannons were never made to be silent, but can stop a behemoth at twenty paces!"

Finally, she glances at Nomad.

"Looking good omea. You gonna do the talking and negotiating for us? My old unit commander took care of that most of the time, so have at it!!"

"That's the idea, at least. Best to let the specialists deal with their own slices of the action, neh? I'm best when we're conversing, or maybe when the other guy's strapped to a chair in cuffs."

Nomad gives Sunset a grin and a slight nod of his head.

As they wait, Road-Rage listens to the others between cursory glances in his mirrors;

"Done well? Not sure. This ride expensive. Cost 10 fragging years... That's like what? Same as couple of hundred to you elveuk (Or'Zet: elves) eh?"

The hob frowns to himself, then chuckles as the jousting between the new group continued;

"Makes sense Nomae. Once they in the chair I get sledge right? And welder?"

He shoots a wink at Glass.

Glass shrugs at Sunset's comment.
"If you like the bow, you'll be real wizzed when I start throwing mana around."

Road-Rage's wink brings a look that starts slightly confused and ends slightly offended.
"Hey now, chummer; I take machines apart, and put people back together."

Wraith scoffs as no one accompanies her inside. "Ugh. Puritans! The lot of you!"

An hour later she returns, standard duffel in tow. "Alright let's go!" she brightly says.

"Ya know, having a large metahuman holding a sledgehammer standing behind me while asking questions does seem like an advantage. If it comes to it, that might just be a tactic to employ, Road-Rage."

To Wraith: "Puritanical? Hardly. That's just not really my scene. Now, if you know a club with comfy leather seats, high end sound, and a more sophisticated vibe, I'm in. Too much flash and neon in that spot for me. No offense intended, of course."

January 2, 2076: 22:58 - Seattle, Downtown. Dram's

The parking lot outside Dram's is filled with plenty bikes, both dwarf and ork modified, though there's a couple of Americars here and there as well. A group, huddled around a heater outside, stops their conversation to nod appreciatively at the Titan rolling in. As you walk into the bar proper, you notice that amongst the dwarven and the orkish crowd of leather-wearing bikers, there's a few wageslaves mingling around.

>>Back of the bar, Kafer!<<, a message pings across your PANs. As you make your way through the tables, the locals seem to give you a quick glance, eyes mostly pausing on Road-Rage's fangs and the two elves, but then return to stare at their glasses as quickly as they started."...sad, but it's good, man, know'am'sayin'? Just time being time. Anyway, my boys and girls are here.", you hear a familiar, laid back voice coming for a secluded table. The two tables before it are empty, a dwarf and ork, dressed in biker leathers give you a nod to proceed.

Dressed in a set of torn jeans and a leather jacket, almost entirely made of patches, Berlin Freddy raises his hands in the air as you come into sight, tapping his side of the table. On the other side sit an old, dark-skinned ork in a well-tailored suit and a serious expression, and a rather attractive female dwarf in leathers, the flash of chrome visible from her forearms. Freddy rubs his hands together, sitting straight up. "Alright. Feel we should introduce each other. Mr. Johnson, team. Team, Mr. Johnson. Done.", he flashes a smile. "Over to you, Mr. Johnson."

The ork nods, clearing his throat. "Good evening.", he says in an eloquent bass. "I'll be brief. I believe that you're all familiar with an organisation known as Humanis.", he almost spits out the last word. "Ever since Proposition 23's been approved, they've been increasing their activity over the city, but they seem to have put things on hold for the last couple of months." He cups his fingers together. "We know they didn't just pack up and leave, and we know they're planning something. Something big."

"We've received information that there's been several reports about a large safehouse in Bellevue's mostly human areas." His brows furrow for a moment. "There's been several requests to LE to investigate, but they were all buried." He nods towards the group. "What I mentioned to your colleague here,", he nods at Freddy, who smiles back in turn, "is that I want them out, and I am willing to pay for it." He glances at the group. "Questions?"

"Well, well, well, I am glad to see we have the beginnings of common interest here. As you can plainly see, we are hardly of the white hoods and torches persuasion. Any chance for these drekheads to get their comeuppance is a potential positive for the good of the city, am I right?"

Nomad enters the booth and sits down comfortably, keeping his hands over the table and smiling broadly.

"Call Nomad." He reaches over and offers a hand to shake the ork's.

"So, Mr. Johnson, the devil is in the details in a job like this. Price, danger, exposure, all those things can make or break a negotiation. So, why don't we start on just what exactly you're looking to get done?"

"Are we talking about the elimination of all the parties at this residence, or merely their expulsion from the area? Also, are there any specifics required as to the building itself? Some people in your position may wish to...leave a message...as it were. And that level of exposure does raise the costs, I must admit."

Nomad looks around at the crew and takes a mental poll of their willingness.

Not trying to speak for everyone, but I am assuming we are willing to work against Humanis here?

"So why don't you lay out any particulars and details that are 'must haves' here, and your offer of compensation, and we'll start from there."

Worth noting, Nomad has R2 tailored pheromones, and is actively trying to remain close enough to the Johnson so they will aid in this interaction.

'Blah blah blah, me am ork, blah blah, me want kill humans, blah blah, me pay much monies,' was all Alanna really heard. 'Yeah yeah, get to the part that has numbers in it,' she started thinking after the second sentence.

'Boy howdy that dwarf has -Siberean- armXr0Z. Must be nice,' she says, nakedly staring at the leather-festoned dwarf.

After parking his own Mirage and engaging the anti-theft, Blacksap gives a good look at the Johnson. "Humanis? Like The Elf is using the Ork and the Troll as a muscle against you? Hells, I got stuck in one of their newsletters for six months, I'll gladly vent them for that."

Road-Rage listens intently, taking in the ork's words and soaking up the atmosphere in the bar.

At Nomad's speech he nods;

"Like my omae speaks, need to know if we talking a Barrens dirt bath for these drekkers, or leave them broken and with the hard word? Fine with either Mr Johnukon (Or'Zet: Mr Johnson), just a matter of cred."

The dwarf raises an eyebrow at Blacksap, then gives a dry, obviously fake smile. "We're there too, counting nuyen in the background." Seeing Wraith eyeing her arm, she squeezes her hand in a fist. Gyrobalancing fins pop out, then in again. She winks, then glances back at Nomad.

The ork snaps his fingers together, giving everyone a glance. "I see. Let me elaborate, then.", he continues, nodding. "Whatever happens to that safehouse will throw a wrench in Humanis' plan, and that's my, hm,", he glances at Freddy. "Main objective. To achieve said objective, I want as many members taken out of commission, and whatever facilities they have - likewise." His brows furrow, lending the ork an even more serious look than before. "Civilian casualties are absolutely unacceptable, and, should it come to it, avoid lethality with law enforcement." He taps his glass. "I wouldn't mind having one of those wormuk alive and scared out of his mind, but don't go out of your way for it."

Glancing at the dwarf, as if he forgotten something, the ork turns back towards the group. "For taking the safehouse out of commissioning, I'm ready to pay 50,000 to you. If you come across any relevant information, I'd be willing to pay up to 10,000 extra." He clamps his hands together once more. "And if you achieve this with discretion and finesse, you can count on a bonus, and a good word with my associates." Gesturing at the dwarf, he leans backwards, taking a sip from a brown liquid in a glass with lots of ice.

The dwarf leans forward, forming a file in ARO. "That's what we've got in terms of layout. It's a new estate, so there's some houses around that might be empty. Humanis is a fan of dogs, man's best friend and all that, so be wary. Most of the locals that are there are probably working during the day, but there might be the occasional house partner. I don't think Humanis themselves will call KE, but if you go too loud, police response in that area is less than 10 minutes." She tugs her blonde braid backwards, then smiles. "That's what we've got. It's not much, but should point you in the right direction."

The ork clears his throat. "And one last thing. I would like this done by Friday next week. You'll have 10 days, should you choose to accept."

"Good, good. Seems we are amenable to the objective, and I for one will shed no tears for any of those foolish racists that get geeked. Perhaps we can perform your information retrieval and personnel extraction at the same time, perhaps not. But, this is a highly secured area we're talking about, and we do have a 6 person team. Some of us have significant expenses, too. Surely you can come up with a bit more scratch, eh?"

Negotiation (bargaining): [spend Edge to Push the Limit] 19d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 1, 4, 1, 4, 4, 4, 6, 2, 4, 4, 5, 1, 3, 1, 1, 3, 6) = 61 4 hits.
Reroll 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6 1 hit
Reroll 1d6 ⇒ 5 1 hit

Total: 6 hits on Negotiation(Bargaining), no limit.

The ork grumbles as Nomad starts bargaining. Running a hand across his chin for a long time, he nods, seemingly annoyed. "Fifty-five, and that's final.", he laconically states after a while. "Though, to avoid misinterpretation - I don't want anyone brought to me, dead or alive. If you leave them alive, leave them there. Or take them for yourself, I don't care about your spare time." He shrugs.

The dwarf passes along another AR file with a flick of the wrist. "Give me a call after the place is secure, or if it goes FUBAR." The ork finishes the drops at the bottom of his glass, then sends her a nod as he stands up. Extending his hand, he finishes, "Looking forward to hearing from you." The two bodyguards are already standing up, and the four make their way towards the exit.

Freddy claps his hands. "Nice going! Didn't even need to toodle, myself." The smile on the fixer's face is like that of a cat. "I say we grab some drinks and go over who does what." Lighting up a cigarette, the packet lands on the table, followed by his feet.

"Wait, I don't understand, do they want the place blown up? Doing a sweep-and-clear is easy. Maybe we all go in separate entrances to make sure no one escapes and so they can't defend themselves from one direction, or maybe we just barricade every exit and all go in one door--whateves.

But by 'decommission' did they mean we gotta destroy all their computers an' drek? That...that might be harder. A dude, ya just walk up an pull de' trigger. But machines are haaard."

"If I grok it right, don't touch the locals, try not to hurt the cops and do as much damage to the Humanis as possible"
Glass looks round the group.
"I normally try to stay away from trouble, but for those bakebrains I'll make an exception."

"We're short a decker, that means doing some meatspace recon. Nomad, you've the tongue to pass for a perspective recruit, check'em out from the inside. I'll get the lay of the land, especially sniping positions."
"Since it's in a residential area, my favored plan of closing 'em in and lighting 'em up won't be practical, but maybe we can smoke 'em out if I and Wraith sneak in beforehand to place some gift boxes. That way we can tranq the dogs and geek the fanatics. The problem is, alarms will be ringing as soon as the smoke goes up."
"The alternative is getting on their turf, take 'em out as they come with knives and silencers as much as possible, then going loud when we get spotted and getting out of Dodge. That'll be harder if they have some security, at least cameras. Who's decent at sneaking here, other than me and Little Miss Humble?"
And maybe those pixie ears will draw some of the fire.

"Depends what you mean by decent. You don't take a marching band through the barrens."
Glass flashes a grin. "Rat says keep your head down and you don't get your tail shot off. And I know my way round a toolkit well enough to break things."

"Hmmmmm," Wraith taps her cheek cutely when Blacksap suggests an inside recon.

She turns to Nomad and runs an owning paw down his arm. "Gee, Honey, now that we're married isn't it about time that two self-respecting, proper Humans like us go down and see about joining the local Humanis club?

We can talk to people, and find out their names, and find out what kind of security they have on the doors, and how many doors they have, and they'll tell us how to get out of the building in case of an emergency, and all sorts of things that two stand-up and totally-not-shadowrunners like us would want to know."

She flashes him a wink, and he finds it hard to be totally unmoved--Alanna has pheromones too.

Sun keeps her mouth shut as the negotiations go on, but once they are finished and it is just the 'team' around the table she adds her comments.

"Bellevue is triple-A security, meaning plenty of surveillance, private firms and a very fast response from KE, and that response will be HEAVY! A Fast Response Team at least, probably followed up by a SWAT Team. They do not dick around out there, so we need to be quiet and fast!"

She knows most of them already know most of this information, but it never hurts to reiterate those points.

"Also, if any civilian, DocWagon or cop is injured, then it is all gloves off...they will come at you with everything, up to and including the Metroplex Guards."

R-R sits and listens as the others discuss before chiming in;

"Got an MCT Fly-Spy in the van. Not flown it much, but might net us some intel while Wrath and Nomad play Mr & Mrs?"

The hob shrugs his shoulders at Blacksap's question on stealth;

"Sneaking? Guess am okay... Like Sun say, getting out tough part. KE come knocking loaded for wyrm, we be frakked omae."

"Why yes, sweetie, I just think it's such a shame they let THOSE things live with us real proper humans. If we could find some like-minded racePatriots, I would feel much safer at night."

Nomad smiles at Wraith, mood and facial appearance changing in an instant.

"Practicalities, first. We need some kind of introduction. Perhaps the old "sign my petition" or working as campaign folks trying to oppose Prop23? Or even Road-Rage gets a bit too close on the road and I gotta draw down to protect my human wife?"

Nomad looks around the group, waiting for others to chime in.

"Once we are in, maybe we can leave a bit of fun and surprises, make the hard work a little easier. Remote activated gas dispenser with CS or even Narcoject gas, something similar? Even if we drop some smoke in there we can roll up like firefighters once it starts showing and be the big damn heroes."

"Meh to the intro. I'm sure if we just show up and say 'We hate trogs' they'll be over us like flies on drek. Let's not over think.

No need to do it all in one shot, we've got a little time."

Freddy's grin flashes as Wraith makes her idea known. "Wiz! Ballsy, and risky, but it could be smooth." His chin points downwards as he stares at his hand, seemingly flicking through a list. "Seem you got the handle on this tune, omae. I gotta biszum soon,", he points his thumb over the door. but don't be a stranger if you need anything from me. I may know people, or know people who know people." The fixer finishes his drink, and disappears back into the bar.

"Hoi, Freddy, before you met. Maybe see if you can score some of these? Lemme know if you run into any setbacks, natch."

Nomad sends an ARO privately with images of gas grenades, of the smoke, narcoject, CS, and pepper-punch variety.

"You're right, sweetie-kins. Simple is probably best. Especially if we can get close enough for them to whiff your perfume, eh? Everyone else can track down a quiet spot to plan, rest, and post up, we'll stay linked on comms."

Nomad gets up from the booth and offers a crooked arm to Wraith.

"M'lady?".

Even he cant keep a straight face at that one.

"While those two play Brandy and Clint, I think we'd best sort out a quiet route in, and both quiet and fast routes out"
Glass thinks for a moment.
"Redmond border's got a lot of walls in the way. Who do we know that can get a map of the sewers? Might be too obvious though."

"KISS...like the face and floozy said. If you look like you belong no one will question you. From the layout of this place, there are a few easy access points. It would be great if we had a spyder riding the places' security, but a couple of decent maglock cards could work as well. Maybe a brownout for the neighbourhood...not normal, but also not totally unheard of..."

Janie stops and looks at the others as she begins to wind down.

"Well just ideas off the top of my head..."

Road-Rage listens and nods as the various angles are discussed;

"Make sure you two get a return invite. Maybe we drop off some Area Jammers, mess with their comms? Depends on the their sec though."

As he mulls their targets, the hob bristles;

"Maybe we need silencers too. Uniform Ballistic masks or respirators. Disposable gloves?"

Freddy nods, his hand bringing up Nomad's images and request in his PAN. A slow grin spreads on the fixer's face. "You got it, man. I'm always down for a good hotboxing.", he laughs out. "I'll call my people, and send you the bill." Pointing at Wraith, he adds. "I'd suggest you get yourselves a fake SIN as well. You know, help build your story, if you're going to be smoozin' your way inside." Don't forget, SINs are broadcasted by default, and are basically a business card/interests page. He shrugs, lighting a cigarette. "And you can never have enough fake ID's, man. Buzz if you need a hand with those."

I'd suggest that the party gives me a list of things they'd want to buy, as well as the Availability/Cost of them in Discussion. Where to now? Scoping the place in meatspace? Figuring out the sewers?

To Freddy: "Wizard, chummer. I'll expect your call."

Standing next to Wraith, he looks the both of them up and down with a critical eye.

"We probably want to clean up a bit, stash the more overt tools of the trade, so we look like Joe and Jane Citizen. Outfits will probably work just fine, so long as our SINs dont flag the pawns or CorpSec just for breathing rich folk air. Maybe RoadRage can get an eye in the sky heading over, call the play as it were. And Blacksap can try and spot some fun long range shooting nests for the real work time."

"We should head out, keep it real casual, and be good little racists, natch."

Wraith opens her arms wide as she is critically scanned ina universal 'I'm all that and a bag of chips' pose.

Also, yes, Wraith too has a lvl 4 SIN

"Aff. We can get ready. The Mort' hides the S-C-K, an' that's all I need to dress for a dance. And who knows, if they're not that tough, I might just dust 'em here and now. Gotta go with the flow," she winks, leaving it ambigupous if she's kidding or not.

"Ya know," she adds, making a move for Nomad's hand. "We should aught-a act like a couple. We keep it too business, they might get...awkward."

"Fair point, doll. Let's put on a show, make sure our new neighbors don't twig to nothin' suspicious, eh? I can leave my bag and the MedBag with Road-Rage, can always pick it up afterwards."

Nomad takes a moment to re-fix his hair and get out of the 'grunge-chic' mentality and reset himself into 'Joe Citizen' mode. He checks to make sure his SIN and its licenses are broadcasting properly, and calls an AutoCab.

"So, while we go make nice nice with our new supremacist friends, maybe see if we can score a workspace nearby. Somewhere out of the way, but within a minute or less by vehicle, if its got a good sightline on the target all the better. R-R, see if you can work on that aerial surveillance, and any Plan B's or better for an exfil, I'm all ears."

Taking the Colt and Guardian in their concealed holsters, leaving pretty much everything else except for the pocket med-kit and a handful of chems in the bag.

Once the AutoCab arrives, Nomad gives the address of a house about half a block down from the target before opening the door for Wraith and following her into the car.

Wraith graciously accepts the chivalry and enters the cab. "Why thank you, Snookums."

Once they're seated in side, she, surprisingly, pops up, "Alanna. My name is Alanna. It wouldn't do have you calling her wife by her street handle."

She smiles sheepishly.

"Jeremy. Seems like a fair precaution. As for geeking them right away, dunno if that was bravado, but let's hold off on that. I can shoot okay, but I'd much rather let the others help out, especially if there's as many as I'm afraid of. Plus, pooches can put quite a spin on things."

Remember, it's midnight. Also, Wraith, is Alanna the name on your fake SIN? ^^

The Inter-City Motorway
The AutoCab takes you out of the effervescent Downtown, filled with noise, lights and music onto the city streets. The car is nice, clean and quiet as it buzzes between traffic, leading you towards Bellevue.

Dram's
The music in the bar seems to pick up, and the tables around you, obviously reserved for the meet, start to invite more and more people. The team pulls their commlinks up, and starts digging on the neighbourhood. Or not, that is a 15 minute HorizonSearch lookup.

Meanwhile back @ Drams...

Road-Rage clocks the "for sale" tabs and nods toward them with a scowl;

"Friendly neighbourhood Humanis good for estate business. Maybe that is in? Mr & Mrs looking to move into sunny Hellevue. We should kick this forward to Happy Couple yes?"

The hob sneers to himself, then points to the layouts;

"Gardening. Another in? Do some landscaping... Humanis might enjoy having some trogs and pixies working plantation. Appeal to their status or some such drek. Means we could ship gear easier - trash-bags, tool box. Whatever gardeners pack."

"Yeah, bounce that over. I know a bit about plants if we have to explain what we're doing, and tool boxes will hide a lot"
Glass looks round the bar. "Getting a bit busy in here for planning this thing."

"Sounds like a plan. Lets maybe go out to the van and get into the details. A couple of elven gardeners might fit in...and might help to take some scrutiny from our "happy couple"!'

Precise as a clock, the dandelion eaters make it all about themselves.
"I wouldn't. Too many new faces around, and they might smell something. Also they may already have a gardening service."

That said, Blacksap goes back to his bike and drives to Bellevue, aiming some legwork.
<"There is a place I can provide fire support from. Checking it out now.">
He moves to the house on the back, checking for alarms and the best way to get to the roof.
Perception: 13d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 1, 5, 5, 4, 3, 5, 3, 5, 1, 3, 4) = 42 4 hits

Road-Rage nods in agreement as the bar fills up;

"We can talk in van. Park up somewhere."

He forwards the intel on the houses to Nomad and Wraith

<Got some news. Houses near are empty. Up for sale. Maybe you both looking for house to play happy fams?>

When Blacksap kicks the gardening scheme into touch, R-R tries not to take it personally - his hobgoblin nature making him bristle;

"Might. Might not. Happy couple can ask... unless Smart-Sam thinks that bad idea too?"

Once the sniper has jetted, the rigger adds another group message to the scouting couple;

<Thinking gardening as front rest of us. Ask your Humanis friends. Say we servants or company you using.>

<Good digging. It's a bit late for realtor visits, but maybe we can swing something. Late shift workers scoping the area before a real visit tomorrow or some such. Workers is a good plan, maybe movers if we're supposed to be new to the area?>

Nomad sits back as the auto cab takes them out to Bellevue.

"So, Alanna, feel like chatting? Jobs just about to get under way, figure we can relax a bit and just talk. I'm kinda new to Seattle, but the scene really is as crazy and wild as I heard. That really the deal, or is it just everyone blowing smoke?"

<Gardeners is a fine plan> Alanna bounces back as the plan begins to take shape. <You don't have to actually garden the thing for six hours, just long enough to do this. Even if they have a gardening service, the odds that another crew is gonna show up and yell at you like a street worker taking their corner is low. We're not actually moving in, just killing ppl.>

That done she looks back up at "Jeremy". "Sure. Lets. And, ya, TOTES is this place jumping. There's always a lot of gang violence to watch out for, and that can be good or bad, depending on which end of the barrel you're on.

It'll still be late. No use in going back. Wanna share a coffin?"