"Well, let's not forget that we have a suggestion that the new owner of this astrosparkle corp is a megacorp. I really do like the darring-do of holding that... thing hostage but going against a mega with a half baked plan sounds a bit suicide-ish"
"Oh no! Bad idea, baaaaad idea! We're trying to get rid of it so it can't be traced to us. The longer we hold on to it the easier it will be to track us to it.
And besides, if we dare make demands of these kinds of people, they'll take that as an insult...
We're talking the kind of people who can drop some SERIOUS nuyen just to make the streets VERY uncomfortable for us until we're practically begging them to blackbag us."
Yeah, the weasel is NOT on board with that idea, and if he is faking his worry, then he is a damn fine actor indeed.
Gig just shrugs, pulls out his cyberdeck and goes slack a moment later.
Back in the much more sensible and logic world of the matrix, he quickly boots up his trusted compatriot agent (he calls it 'Jim') who appears in the form of a mechanical parrot on his avatar's shoulder.
"Oi, Jim, we have to do some digging.
Yeah, right down pitch-black alley.
You bet it's worth it.
We got some good loot and now it's time to find out how much money we can make..."
Weasel looks at the truck for a moment.
"Might be able to negotiate a little more nuyen for the truck, unless you want to keep it?
Either way, I say we hide most of the loot, no sense in tempting the Johnson into trying to get a bigger cut than we want him to.
So, you want to go for four crates? Which four?
Let's make our plans and then I'll send a message to get him over here."
Two reds, then one each of the other two colors. We can use that to determine a baseline price for comparison with my other contact. We know the reds are worth the most, so we should still get a good payout and the other colors won't make it seem like we know too much. Plus the Johnson might feel like he got lucky with two reds.
And ya, throw in the truck. We should probably get another for any further movements. This one's going to be sought after, I'm sure. And contact your Smuggler. The sooner we have that blank gone and a favor owed the better.
Annoyed by the lack of starting points he could use to find some real informations about their pull, Gig links into buzz and takes a quick fly-over the crates and activates the geiger sensor.
If the crates leak radiation, it would be best to get rid of those asap.
If not, the chemical and biological stuff would probably more pressing since those may get instable or inert respectively.
Weasel steps out and starts talking in a hushed voice, on occasion you can hear a word or two when his voice rises with excitement or anger.
For the most part it's things like "not like that!" or "You going to bring that up forever?".
Buzz, free from the constraints of the engine block is put to use again, and he reports nothing on his sensors.
Either there is no radiation in the first place (a clever disguise?) or the shielding is holding tight.
Luna, having gone over the factory building a bit notices a few things that makes her suspect this building has seen use as a meeting point by runners and Johnsons before.
Like how under the rafters there is a well concealed little eagles nest that offers a good angle for a sniper to cover a meet in the locale, and the fact that there is a concealed but easily accessible escape hatch in the back.
Luna lets out a quite whistle to herself while she sends the images of both the nest and the escape location to the other two. She doesn't actually climb up tho. She has a little training in sniping but it is not how she usually handles things. And with only her 2 babies at hand that'd be rather ineffective anyway.
That is if she can clearly see that the nest is empty right now. No that the little weasle had time to pull anything buy you never know.
<< Good eye, knife-ear.
I'll send Sauron up.
Good overwatch position.
Anyway: where and how do we go with the excess crates?
We need to store them somewhere... >>
<<I can probably find a place to rent that won't get them lifted. I'll need to send a couple messages to get a second buyer set up.>>
After a moment, Weasel rejoins you, looking pretty relaxed.
"We're in business. We've got 15 minutes until they are here.
I've dealt with this Johnson before, he's always been straight in the past, and his rep in the shadows is good.
Of course...there is always a first time for everything.
Let's get the crates we're not selling out of sight, lest we tempt them into greed."
"Any questions?
Oh, he is always accompanied by a pair of Ork bodyguards, they look slick, but they are the real McCoy."
Luna, did you see a place we could store the extra for a bit until we can rent a truck to come get them somewhere more secure?
Weasel rubs the back of his neck for a moment.
"Look, things have been going well, not just cool but downright arctic.
That...worries me, things going without a hitch, not common in our line of work.
Oh, I'd love this to turn into a real milkrun, null sheen!
From the look of you, nobody have gotten shot, did the deed in just one night, and got a whole lot more sweet loot than expected, wiz!
Let's just...hope? Yeah, hope it doesn't all go to drek at the final hurdle."
Well, lets make sure we hide the extra nice and good we that doesn't happen, ok?
We proceed to hide the excess well and put the blank in with Gig for safekeeping.
"There's plenty of room here, but nothing outstanding for the crates. In fact I'd say we should try to cram them into Gigs van so we'll actually take them with us if things go sideways and we have to get out."
Luna will make haste to transport the crates wherever they decide they should go, then look for a shadowy place to activate her chameleon suit and observe the meeting from. Sure she could stand there weapons out and be 'intimidating' but honestly people never took elves seriously that way. You needed to be a Troll or at least an Ork to go with that style.
So she'll opt to (hopefully) not be seen and be the suprise waiting for any suprises.
With the announcement of a Johnson with security detail approaching, not to mention the talk about things going south, Gig wordlessly vanishes into his van and lowers himself into his favorite VR chair-bed.
Seconds later, it seems like an entire nest of insects collectively decided to wake up and swarm out from the back of the van.
One fly, a spider-like crawler and no less than three bugs in total.
The fly is quickly out of sight after zipping through a broken window, the bugs quickly fan out and leave the storehouse through the available entrances. Outside they will search for nice corners with a good view on the entrances.
The spider-crawler vanishes underneath the van.
With a few minutes left, the vid-stream starts.
A four-way split image, providing four different external angels onto the building.
Three ground-bound ones and a bird eye view - or rather fly-eye.
Fifteen minutes isn't a long time to get ready on unfamiliar ground.
You do get to know the layout fairly well, stash the crates and find a good place for Luna to hide herself.
Of course, having a small army of surveillance drones on your side also helps considerably.
Before long, Gig has a feed of a car pulling up outside, nice looking car, clearly armored but without any obvious armaments.
The people stepping out also give a pretty professional and confident impression.
First out are a pair of Orks, both wearing matching grey suits and a long coat over it, with shades that has a slightly red tint, probably indicating some kind of enhanced vision running.
The guy stepping out after is a little bit different, his outfit is somewhat between a white suit and a doctors labcoat.
Unlike the Orks that are quite smart, he looks a bit distracted and disheveled.
The best way to put it might be that he looks sleep deprived, and like he has been sleeping in the clothes he is currently wearing.
Flanked by the Orks, he approaches the entrance to the factory building.
<< First time I saw bodyguards dressed-up fancier than their subject.
Anyone else thinking Orks-in-suites look weird? >>
Gig comments the arrival of the Johnson.
Luna shrugs from her position in the shadows and answers "Well from what I know if you're the guy with the money YOU get to decide what's fancy and what's not"
Cheddy stands with the Weasel and chuckles while trying to look confident. He generally succeeds as that's his thing.
The Orks step into the factory a moment before the Johnson, looking around
If they spot Luna or not, they give no indication.
While the Orks flank the Johnson and seem to be ready for trouble, the Johnson doesn't even look around at all, instantly focusing on Weasel and to a lesser degree, Cheddy.
"Been awhile, still alive and in one piece, yes?
I have to say, you look slightly more presentable than normal, and you appear to be associating with a better dressed class of people."
Having made his introductions, he steps up to the crates visible.
The Orks keep a lookout while he pops open the crate (a red one) and looks inside.
"No markings, unsurprising..."
Before your eyes, he pulls out a...needle(?) and taps it against the canister for a few moments before it slides into it.
He then pulls it out, revealing it to be some form of needle, since it now contains a modicum of some form of bright green substance.
Cheddy stays cool, calm, and collected. Even when the Johnson pulls out a sample he doesn't flinch. If it was safe enough for him, it was safe enough for them. He lets the guy do his checks.
Gig will keep an eye on the transaction via matrix and the various sensors of his van and the two drones within the old factory.
Tapping the glass needle for a moment, he shakes it slowly.
The shaking produces a fairly violent bubbling reaction inside the tube, which does not seem to bother him overmuch.
"Reactive, good...fascinating mutagen..."
Without looking, he holds up one hand, palm up over his shoulder.
The or closest, without saying anything, hands him what looks like an injector gun which he takes and loads the needle into.
He then produces a small box, about the size of a jewelry box from his coat and opens.
Inside is what seems to be...a very small heart, which beats slowly.
He then very slowly injects the heart with the solution, watching with narrowed eyes as he begins to count up under his breath.
"1...2...3...4...5..."
Luna has nothing imidiate to do, so she gives a mental command to her glasses to zoom in on the heart thing and check it out with termographic vision.
Nothing outwardly changes about Cheddy, but he does observe the heart with curiosity. Again, if the Johnson was comfortable enough to do this in their presence then he suspected that he had nothing to worry about. Still, he tries to peek into the Astral, just to check.
<< They have some niiiice comlinks on them, even the grunts.
I mean, reeeeally nice.
Tripple-AAA nice.
Cannot buy those from your local 'shack, nonono.
Chance are igh I'll get detected if I try to go in... >>
The Johnson reaches 8 before he stops counting, it's hard to tell, but he seems pleased at the very least.
Since you are merely passively observing him, a few more minutes pass as he inspects the other three crates, seemingly finding them suitable as well.
"Fine merchandise. They deliver what they promise."
Standing up, he wipes his hands and turns to Weasel again.
"Well then...John, I am willing to offer 15 000 nuyen for this cargo. Throw in the truck and I shall raise it to a full 17 500.
However, I am not interested in haggling, and I have a busy schedule.
This offer is good for exactly 30 seconds."
Cheddy gets a discreet little ping from Weasel on his comlink.
Your call, but I'd advise you against gambling on it by haggling, he's got...no patience, like at all.
Cheddy doesn't want to risk it either, not with the rest of it they have stashed away. He quickly sends back an affirmative. It'd be best to get while the gettin's good.
Weasel nods as he gets confirmation and looks up at the Johnson.
Amazingly, he manages to hold back his excitement sufficiently to wait until the count of 25 before agreeing.
"We have a deal, your offer is good, and you get the truck as well. You got the cash, the goods is yours right here."
The Johnson seems pleased with the response and raises a hand over his shoulder.
The nearby Ork steps forward, reachings into his jacket and then dumps four creditstick into the waiting palm.
Soon they switch owner from Johnson to Weasel, three jet black certified creditsticks, each stamped with 5000 and the nuyen symbol, and one orange stamped with half that amount.
The Johnson then returns to the car while the Orks quickly and efficiently load the cargo back on the truck.
Within a few minutes, you stand alone in the semi darkness of the factory.
Weasel turns to Cheddy with a big grin.
"Would you believe it? This might just turn out to be a milk run after all, at least it will be if we can get rid of the blank as painlessly as this."
Cheddy resists the urge to slap him. Instead he sighs and pinches his nose. You had to go and say it, didn't you. Ok. Contact your guy. Let's get this off or hands.
Cheddy walks out to Gig's van and hands him the cred sticks for verification. Then he sends a message to his guy, a rather eccentric fixer in Renton called The Shakespearean.
<<Ho! What fortune doth favor the astute and quick of hand! What fortune favors the bold! For out of the darkness comes opportunity, and out of desolation comes a prize!>>
He attaches an image of each crate and send it off.
For his trouble, Cheddy receives a cheeky and slightly endearing grin.
"Chill chummer, it's wiz. This is the sort of drek better out than in. And until we get the blank out of Seattle, we can't rest easy anyway, so take what you can get."
After a few minutes, Cheddy receives a reply, written in beautiful calligraphy which seems hand made even.
Fortune favours the bold, and lo, for we strike as the iron is heated. Mine messenger pigeons fly with the swiftness of arrows, to pierce the hearts of greedy men, allowing us to reap the spoils of their vices."
Meanwhile, the "border guards" placed by Gig picks something up.
It looks like you may be about to have company, because there are a number of signatures prowling around just at the edge of the perimeter.
Cheddy texts back: <<Tomorrow night, good sir, we hold a solemn suppe, and I’ll request your presence. For thine part, Fifty shall we ask and call it a favor.>>
The team and also Weasy gets a clipped text with appended feed.
<< We have company.
Time to go. >>
Gig will jump into Buzz and slightly change course to get a better angle on at least one of the targets to get an idea what they are dealing with.
"What!?"
Weasel seems quite surprised and upset, quickly digging out a small screen he takes a look.
"Drek!
I picked this spot and this time because it came between two lone star patrols, long enough after the first one for the fuzz to be gone, and close enough to the next one that no scavs would be around.
But, according to the news, seems there was an attack by gangers near the borders to the barrens, and they've redirected the patrol."
Reaching into his coat he produces a gun and shakes his head.
"Probably wharf rats, not dangerous alone, but tend to come in packs."
Luna breaks from her hiding place and pulls out her guns with a happy grin. "Well, looks like I get to contribute to this little heist after all."
"Well, there is only one way in, so we can't let em block it, or we're dreked.
Aside from the secret back exit of course, but we can't get the van through there.
Wharf rats usually don't pack too much heat, but if they got lucky...
Eh, just...don't underestimate them, that's all."
Vance jogs up to the door and closes it so that it's only wide enough for the van. He then jogs over to the van and grabs his duffel bag which held his heavier weaponry. Luna, do you want the sniper's nest? If not, I'll take it.
"Take it, I'll find a nice and cozy place for myself."
Cheddy nods and heads up to the nest. Once there he pulls his Ares Alpha assault rifle and arranges his three spare clips of Stick-n-Shock to his right side. He then lays down and slaves his weapon's internal smart system to his comms and shares the video feed with Gig.
I'm set. Please tell me there's at least the barest possibility of us talking our way out of this... though he didn't really believe there was.
The feed from gig's spy drone is sent to you all, showing about a dozen figures scurrying about outside, slowly drawing closer to the doors.
They are all pretty patchwork, some having pistols, one or two packing what looks like a shotgun, and maybe an assault rifle or two.
Weasel spits when he sees the feed.
"Wharf rats, scavs...brave when in a pack, hoping for some easy killing and profit, sure as shootin'.
They don't tend to have a head honcho, so no decapitating strike possible.
With these types, all you can do is make it cost too much for them to keep coming.
Trouble is, where there is one dozen, there is sure to be another close by.
I mean, you're the ones with the experience here, but generally, maximum aggressiveness is...recommended?"
One of the scavs seems to be having a belt with a lot of strange things in it, look a little bit like fetishes, leaving the possibility he is spell slinger open.
What's the call, Luna?
<< Concentrated, local fire superiority is always the way to go. >>
With a low rumble, "Big Mom" awakens its engines and swivels around such that the back faces the entrance.
With a metallic snapping sound, the upper row of back lights pop out and slide down and the business end of an assault rifle pokes out and now faces the door.
<< You may take cover behind Big Mom, she's a thicc lady and can take a beating and return the favor - but any damage she takes in this is repaired from shared money! >>
"No leader, no mages, no one with a bigger gun than everyone else. The call is to forget the emergency exit even exists and keep geeking them as they come. Fight for your fragging lifes."
Luna looks for cover away from Big Mom.
One: It'll be less costly if not all fire is concentrated on it.
Two: It'll probably be healthy not to take cover behind the big fire magnet. Even if it is sturdy.
She wants cover where she has a firing angle on the entrance, but preferably not straight through the entrance.
One thing she makes sure before going into cover tho is that the doors are locked into place. The current small opening is nice but if they can just open it up more then that wasn't helpful
There is a hesitation for a moment outside, perhaps someone noticed big mom's engine, perhaps not.
Either way, the hesitation doesn't last, and several of the rats scurry across the open ground and reach the walls outside.
Thankfully, your overwatch allows you to anticipate the moment they eventually storm in.
<< Engage. Engage. Engage. >>
This very dry remark is followed by short matrix command sent to Sauron and Webber: to fire at the left target.
Gig Mom opens up on the right one inside.
The momen the first two figures enter, they are greeted by short, automatic gunfire from three directions.
(4)
(4)
(5)
= 3
Cheddy fires off a burst of Stick-n-shock at the incoming figures at the door. Hopefully the confined space and their numbers would limit their ability to dodge.
Luna sends two bullets into the incomming rats. Not the best shots she has ever taken but nothing she can do to change that right now