The last post from me.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:15am
Peacekeeper acknowledged Croaker’s instructions with a nod and retrieval of her phone. Flipping the face open she thumbed through the last number received and hit dial.

“Spiff? Peacekeeper,” she’d have liked to of been able to look out the back of the van, but the steel door had no windows so she stared out the little bit of the front that she could see and continued her conversation as per her instructions. “We’re in the area. Have you picked us up?

“Good. We’re going to park this rig. The meet’ll take place once we’ve stopped.”

That said, she ended the conversation (unless Spiff has any questions that need answering) and drops the phone back into her jacket pocket. Just as everyone else in the van seems to be doing, Peacekeeper does a brief weapons check while Bullseye finds his preference for a place to park.

The Mean Streets – Night City – 11:05pm
Doing his best to hide his surprise, Guardian shrugged. "You getting soft with age, Scribe?" The black bodyguard then smiled softly and shook his head sadly. "No, old friend. I'm afraid I didn't pack anything that doesn't kill or cut this time... Unless you'd consider my fists and feet as such of course. I've got the Tae Kwon Do chip, but nothing ranged."

Frankie tightened his lips and gave a nod. The news was disturbing to him; despite his intention to get the story no matter the cost, and his belief that Croaker would likely not be as kind the next time they met, DigitalScribe hadn’t stopped feeling a certain familiar fondness for the gruff nomad (though he only worried about Jaimy out of respect for his friend).

“Well,” he said in a soft voice as he peered out the windows into the flashing rain. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence. Frankie had a lot on his mind, spinning and crafting the words that would make up his rhetoric when he actually went in to splice the story together. He already knew he was going to write it out for the screamsheets and the Net-feeds; he also knew that he was going to document the whole thing digitally and create a “live-action” report with voice-over once he had the whole thing pieced together. This offered the best possible coverage and the greatest opportunity for return.

“We’re here.” The cabbie rapped on the protective shield between them with a knuckle as he glanced briefly over his shoulder. DigitalScribe blinked away the construction of his story and peered through the rain at the red building that loomed up on the left-hand side of the cab.

“Go around,” Frankie instructed their driver. “To the other side.”

The cabbie complied, hanging a left and driving along the north face while his passengers took in the relatively clean appearance of the building, the glowing activity inside, and the empty streets surrounding it. Then they were past, moving further down the block towards the west corner. “Let us out here,” DigitalScribe ordered as they drew up on the lit street. The cab pulled over to the north side and with a touch of a button the credchip reader in the back stopped calculating the fare and displayed the total in digital display. Frankie fished out his image wallet and retrieved his credchip with a grimace on his face. This had better be the pay-out you think it is Frankie old-boy, he thought as he swiped the chip and received confirmation that the fare (plus tip) had been deducted from his account. By this time Guardian had already vacated the vehicle and was standing with the door open getting wet all over again. Scribe slipped out and silently sighed as the rain started coursing down his neck and back. He slicked his techhair back and watched as the cab left the curb to speed away after its next call.

“All right,” Frankie said while pulling his collar up and glancing worriedly at his shoulder-mounted camera. The device was combat ready and a little rain wouldn’t hurt it, but it was one of Scribe’s most prized possessions so he fretted over it anyway. “There was a parking lot just south of the building on the interior of the block. I think we’ll head that way and begin our little scouting operation. What d’ya say Guardian?”

Pier 2 Paradise Rent-a-Space – Room 14b – Night City – 11:02pm
The Red Cab was waiting outside for them when the group of four hit the main floor of the Paradise Rent-a-Space building. The janitor glanced at them with some trepidation as they passed, probably having been informed of the body he’d have to clean up in 14b, though the meat would bring the man a pretty penny at the body bank if he were the scalper type. Before Spiff stepped into the rain the Reverend ducked his head a bit and eyed the black storm with reservation.

“If you tell me t’ ride this one with you Spiff, I’ll ride,” he glanced at the hombres he’d arranged as protection for his boss and gave them a nod. “I ain’t a gunner, and’ll be of better use to you working the business, si?” What he said was undeniable. The man was a decent lieutenant, but he was no solo. The two gangers he’d arranged to ride shotgun weren’t even solos—there was nothing professional about them—but they knew how to use those guns and could intimidate most of the common rabble that Spiff had to deal with on a regular basis. The fixer had never been so lucky as to have a childhood friend like the Piper, nor had he reached a point in his career where he could afford a fulltime bodyguard. Maybe after this run Springed-Heel Jack’s promise would make him prominent enough that he could expand his horizons.

With the troupe in the cab and on the road their passage across the High Street and into the neighborhood of the address he’d been given was uneventful.

The Mean Streets – Night City – 11:32pm
Arriving on the scene, Spiff instructed the cabbie to wait, pulling up by the bus depot so as to remain inconspicuous. “Si,” the Hispanic driver acknowledged, professionally keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you like to listen to some music while you wait gato?”

Whether the sounds of Mexican Rock play through the cab or not, Spiff has plenty of time to make whatever phone calls he wishes to make and the cabbie (who is apparently savvy enough to understand the Rules of the Streets) plops earphones in so that he can’t overhear while the others stare out the windows. A little over a half-hour later, with very little comings and goings at the building designated the Hole, Spiff catches sight of a MDS Delivery truck turning left onto the street he’s on and making its way away from him. Following the fixer’s instructions the cab peels away from the curb and falls in four car lengths behind, making the rounds of the block…

With Peacekeeper’s acknowledgement that Spiff was indeed following them Croaker waited for Bulls Eye to find a secluded parking lot out of sight of the Hole. As they searched He gave out a new set of orders.

"Ok here’s how I think we play this. Preacher, you and Peacekeeper back me up as the three of us are the best armed to do the actually face to face with this Fixer.
Bulls Eye you stay behind the wheel with the engine running and Firewind you cover us from inside the van, try to stay out of sight if possible till we find out if Spiffie is on the up and up. You’ll be our ace in the hole so to speak.
Bulls Eye try to park the van as best you can in relation to how they look like they will park after we stop, that way you can also cover us from the driver side window incase the s*** hit’s the fan.
Any questions or a better idea?? (if any ideas are presented will back post)
Croaker then did grab the out of his bag the Constitution Arms MAP heavy pistol and its 3 cylinders of AP round reloads and passed them to Bulls Eye up front. Placing them beside him as he was yet driving.

"Some more firepower my brother, damn I just wish we still had that cop shotgun that we lost earlier tonight. No matter, I know you know your s***."
With all talking over it was time, a parking lot found and both van and what Bulls Eye said was a Cab following them did enter. Croaker getting out of the van behind Peacekeeper took up a position on her right as on her left Preacher took up station. With her in the center of them they waited for the Fixer to join them.

As Guardian got out of the cab, he did the usual scan of the surroundings. Unfortunately it was still raining like hell and he couldn't see s***. Not that the downpour mattered to the big black bodyguard. Getting wet wasn't too nice, but right now he was not looking for comfort anyway - he was looking for possible aggressors. Fortunately he couldn't see any even with his cybernetically enhanced eyesight. He could only hope there weren't any either, but even if someone was taking aim their way in the heavy rain, chances were that someone would miss due to poor visibility.

Frank was no military man, but had spend enough time in the company of some to have sort of adapted some basic strategies of a recce or reconnaissance operation. However being in urban surroundings, moving from cover to another would probably draw more attention than walking ahead casually and was therefore not an option. Still they'd need an OP to observe the building from a safe place where they could stay out of sight. If low profile was how DigitalScribe wanted to play it this time...

Finally the media got out of the vehicle as well and tried in vain to keep the water on the outside by pulling up his collar. Frank nearly missed the worried look his employer cast at his favorite piece of recording equipment. The worry on Scribe's face made him flash a grin at the smaller man despite the weather. It seemed the shoulder-cam was still Scribe's dearest.

Nodding to DS, Frank let the media take the lead. "Sure thing, brother. Haven't seen anything out of the ordinary yet, so we should be ok for now."

His H&K loaded and ready it was time to finally put some positive progress into this run, because up till now they'd been a group of slum chummers with less luck than a one parapalegic gato in a fist fight.

Flanking Jaimy, for she was the voice behind this meet, 'leader' or not, it was she who the contact would recognize or at least engage in conversation until Croaker took over. Sweeping his duster out behind him, and letting his wide brimmed gunslinger's hat tilt in just the right John Wayne fashion, he rimmed the edge between thumb and forefinger before sliding the safety into the 'off' position with an audible click.

"Let's saddle up, and try to keep the animals from gettin rowdy."

(ooc: blast the old post was longer, but i can't remember exactly what i had)

Knowing that the group is expecting action, Firewind draws his weapon for defense. Hopefully, he will not need his medical skills.

(OOC: Just wanted to let you guys know, I am back. Still catching up on some RL stuff)

Bullseye pulled the van to a stop and move the indicator to N. He unlocked his door and removed his seatbelt. He then sat a waited to see where the other car would stop. With a whisper to himself, “Well the ball is in your court now.”

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:18am
The cab pulled around in back of the van as instructed. Next to him, Spiff felt the two Hispanic gangers shift with a readiness to spring from the cab should it be necessary. The one to the right (The Reverend had called him Roller) already had his Automag in hand, the chrome reflecting the dim overhead of the streetlamp. The one to his left (Coyote) hadn’t pulled his Uzi yet, but it was easily accessible from his waistline. The cabbie knew he was caught up in some clandestine meeting and sat very still, waiting for his next instructions, or the opportunity to bolt.

In the van, Peacekeeper took a deep breath, calming her nerves as she always did before walking into the unknown. With a glance towards the dark figure of her lover, the famed bounty hunter stepped up to the back door, crouched, and flung it upward. It rolled and clattered on its track, bouncing off the back a bit, and then settled. Dropping from the bumper to the soaked concrete below she didn’t even bother to pull her jacket tight about her. She was going to give the impression of nonchalant cool despite the acidic water coursing down her shirt and between her breasts. Unlike the rest of her companions she hadn’t even pulled steel, having replaced her weapons in their proper places after checking them for usability. Now, the tips of her techhair glowing red, she quickly jerked her head to the right, popping her neck a little, and began sauntering towards the cab. She stopped halfway between the two vehicles, her eyes scanning the area around them without moving her head. Peacekeeper was the epitome of style in her slick leathers, shiny, glowing hair, and casual cool stance.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:20am

“If you tell me t’ ride this one with you Spiff, I’ll ride,” the Reverend glanced at the hombres he’d arranged as protection for his boss and gave them a nod. “I ain’t a gunner, and’ll be of better use to you working the business, si?” What he said was undeniable.

Replaying the address from his recording, Spiff gave the Reverend the info on where he was going. "Look, I need you to find out if that locale is a known Wild Things' hideout. I don't have the time to be wasting on searching empty rat-holes." Spiff gave his lieutenant a concerned look. He was short on time, and he wanted it clear to the Reverend. "Also, see if you can dig up anything on this Merideth aka Merry Deth. Then gimme a call with what you find out." Nodding at his lieutenant, he relayed the fresh address to the cabby and sat down.

Spiff spent the car ride psyching himself up for the road ahead. When the cabby pulled to a stop and popped his headphones on, he scrolled through his contacts and got to work. He was going to need some major info if he was to find this Merry Deth in just a couple of hours. Scrolling down he found the name, Elizabeth, if anybody knew what the Wild Things were up to, it was a Wild Thing. As the phone started ringing he crossed his fingers. "Please pick up..." he whispered to himself.

---

After his phone calls from the car, he saw the delivery van pass by. His phone rang this time. “Spiff? Peacekeeper,” was the other end.

"You got him."

“We’re in the area. Have you picked us up?"

"We're tailing you. We'll meet you when you park." Spiff hung up the phone and slid it back to his pocket. Next to him, Spiff felt the two Hispanic gangers shift with a readiness to spring from the cab should it be necessary. The one to the right (The Reverend had called him Roller) already had his Automag in hand, the chrome reflecting the dim overhead of the streetlamp. The one to his left (Coyote) hadn’t pulled his Uzi yet, but it was easily accessible from his waistline.

"Time for action boys. Now these aren't our targets, so yall just stay behind me and look formidable. We'll just hope this rides better than the first deal we had today." He slid out behind 'Roller' and exited the cab assuring that the two men stood behind him on either side. If nothing else, he was certain he'd make his status known with this crowd. This was 15k he didn't have. He was determined to assure that ol' Jack got his info.

As Croaker got out of the van and took his place to the right side of Peacekeeper he caught the look she sent him. Hoping she could read his eyes he sent her a look of hope and strength letting her know it was for the moment her show. Even though by default he had become the leader of this group he knew this Spiff guy was looking to connect with Jaimy and as such for now he would let her play it out.

But make no mistake Croaker would not let this unknown fixer just walk in and take over out of the blue. If the noob had thoughts as such he was in for a big and possibly painful surprise.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:20am
Peacekeeper’s hand hovered just inside her Plastech duster. She was inches from the handle of her Smartchipped Automag and through practiced speed she could have that weapon in hand and be firing in less time than it took to realize there was danger. The cab’s interior light flickered on as the side doors opened. Out each side stepped two boosters, both Hispanic, one slightly larger than the other. The bounty hunter and her two companions were quick to notice one of them shoving a chrome-plated Automag into his waistline between the baggy jeans and the bright blue and white striped boxers. Then the man Jaimy assumed was Spiff stepped out and began leading the way towards them. He was a smaller man than Croaker—skinnier with less of an imposing mass—with short, neatly trimmed black hair and a clean-shaven face. He wore a black Plastech duster that currently bore a nice sheen to it in the rain, jeans and a t-shirt, as well as a pair of silver shades that seemed to almost melt into his face. Aside from the real clean look, he could have been the average Joe on the Street.

“Ok,” she said in a level voice as he stopped a decent distance away. “I’m Peacekeeper, this here’s Croaker, and this is Preacher. What’ve you got?”

Lightning flashed ominously in the sky followed almost immediately by a near deafening crack of thunder that caused everyone to flinch.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:22am

Croaker watched as the first people out of the cab, clearly muscle, were both Hispanic, one slightly larger than the other. His eyes scanning both he was quick to notice one of them shoving a chrome-plated Automag into his waistline between his jeans and the bright blue and white striped boxers. With both muscle guys in place it was then that the man Croaker assumed was Spiff stepped out and began leading the way towards them. He was a smaller man than Croaker himself, skinnier with less of an imposing mass with short, neatly trimmed black hair and a clean-shaven face. He wore a black Plastech duster, jeans and a t-shirt, as well as a pair of silver shades that seemed so out of place at this time of night Croaker almost laughed. Aside from the real clean look, he could have been the average person on the street…Croaker was not impressed.

“Ok, I’m Peacekeeper, this here’s Croaker, and this is Preacher. What’ve you got?”
As Peacekeeper took the lead with introductions Croaker did a quick sight recon of the parking lot fixing it in his mind in case things went sour with the meet. With that then done he returned his attention forward and awaited the Fixers reply...

(Brom I am using my Awareness/Notice skill during my sight recon.)

Bullseye sat behind the wheel just watching the show through the side mirror of the van, his eyes waiting for a flash of chrome.

(backposting now)
"Please pick up..." he whispered to himself.

"You've five seconds to convince me to stay on the phone."

Yes! I got her! Spiff perked up, "Not only am I paying this time, but I have info that could save you and the Wild Things a whole lot of hassle and possibly an all-out gang war."

"Oh?" Spiff couldn't tell whether the interest in her voice was feigned or legitimate, but it was at least what he was after. He'd stalled an end to the conversation.

Spiff grinned. "Ever heard of a girl named Merry Deth?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. What's the difference?" Elizabeth's tone was flat. Almost as if she were growing bored. The sounds of heavy music played in the background as an industrial band ripped it up over the roar of the crowd.

"If the info I've got is correct, she's in deep with
some outsiders. Look, I'm not gonna lie, I need to talk to her. You don't have to give me her locale, give her mine for all I care. I just know that sh*t's gonna go down in the next few hours. In fact, we're talking an all-out gun battle before 3am tonight."

"And where's your locale Spiff? What's more: what do you have to do with this?"

Spiff was dumbfounded. Sure, he'd been generous and let her push him around for the info, but he had never asked her what she had to do with anything the Wild Things did, it was entirely out of line for her to do so to him. "What I have to do with it isn't important. I'm not here to take sides, I'm here for my side. I'm in a cab outside *relays address that he had been provided* where it's believed your little girl is hiding. I'll just say that I need to talk to her now or the Wild Things are going to be dealing with some fixers higher on the totem than me. We're talkin' about the guys running Night City, not just your side of town." Spiff hung up the phone. She was big with the Wild Things, but he wasn't going to make a name for himself by becoming her bitch. He'd already had one run-in end badly with the gang. He was hoping his added protection this time would keep that from happening again. I mean who knows, maybe she'll go quietly and they can pull in the cash without Spiff firing any rounds tonight. Just in case. He thought as he loaded his Mustang Arms with dual purpose rounds.

Rain continued to pound the glass of the windows, the music playing softly from the front seat, after the conversation ended. Spiff had basically told one of the most active members of the Wild Things that something was going down tonight. It was dead quiet. As though the two gangers sitting besides him were already effected by the pall of death. All eyes were turned towards the red brick building across the street and the activity barely discernible through the lit windows. They sat there like that for a couple of minutes before it paid off. Lights began being turned out in the upper floors, a small group of four men wearing black leathers and hunched against the weather exited the front door and stopped a few steps down the stoop, and another group of three men stepped out on their heels, made their way past the four and climbed into a low-rider black and red sedan with spinner wheels and neon orange running lights. While the car pulled away from the curb the four men near the stoop paused to survey their surroundings. Spiff was certain the hombres gave the cab a long, hard look, but they didn't approach. Instead, they split up, turned and made their way in opposite directions around the building; eventually returning to the front where they entered again.

That's not how you prepare for battle. Spiff paused, thinking. They're running scared...
(The above is posted in close collaboration with Bromern Sal. Much of it is his words.)
-----

“Ok,” she said in a level voice as he stopped a decent distance away. “I’m Peacekeeper, this here’s Croaker, and this is Preacher. What’ve you got?”

Lightning flashed ominously in the sky followed almost immediately by a near deafening crack of thunder that caused everyone to flinch.

"You can save your time and energy. She's not here. I need to make more phone calls, but I've already got my men looking for her, and I've got connections at the top of the Wild Things." He ran his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. He knew he'd done his job right. He wanted to feel bad for giving out so much info, but he had too much riding on this job to have done any less. He glanced at the ground and back at Peacekeeper trying to hide the feelings of regret. "I can tell you right now, they know that something's up."

Spiff took a deep breath. The soggy air made him cough heavily. He smiled, regaining his composure, and looked at the assembled crew. "This is quite the Motley Crew. Peacekeeper, you I know. But who are these small-timers?"

Croaker quietly listened as the fixer spoke of his findings,

"You can save your time and energy. She's not here. I need to make more phone calls, but I've already got my men looking for her, and I've got connections at the top of the Wild Things. I can tell you right now, they know that something's up. This is quite the Motley Crew. Peacekeeper, you I know, but who are these small-timers?"
It took all of Croaker’s restraint not to whip up the SMG and put a burst through Spiffie and his two muscle boys at the term of ‘small timers’. After everything they, the group, had been through tonight this choomba had the nerve to waltz in here and act all high and mighty, well he had another thing coming.

"Ok Spiff if what you say is true and the target is not here then we need to beat feet out of here to another possible local to find said target. On top of that you if what you say is true and they know something’s going on in relation to the target then we need to move now as we are out in the open here with no real cover.
Now seeing as it seems you got Jack’s ok to be in on this run and you got info and the connections we need, ya might wanna speed things up and ride with us and we can go over what ya got and come up with a plan, but we only got room for you and one of your muscle boys, so send the other one and that taxi home as we don’t need the cabbie as a witness to any future events."
Motioning to Peacekeeper and Preacher to get back into the van, he gave a high sign to Bulls Eye to get ready to move. Looking back at the fixer he asked

"So, you coming"?.....

Peacekeeper made it a point to give the guy they had come here to meet, and his two body guards, the once over, sizing them up and making mental notes of anything that would be useful to her later, including their apparent strength, how many weapons she could see on their person, and what type of weapons they were.

“Who are these small timers?” Spiff asked with obvious disapproval.

“Do you really think I would be teamed up with these “small timers” if they weren’t any good?” This was a pointed question, meant to let Spiff know two things. One, they were far from small timers, and Two, they had no qualms or hesitations about killing someone if they had to, and plenty of skill with which to do just that.

Before she could say anything else, Croaker grew impatient and took the lead. She gritted her teeth but held her tongue, for the time being, allowing him his say. She combed her now entirely soaked hair back, out of her face with her fingers. As she did this, she made a quick scan of the area, for at least the 15th time since they had arrived, while Croaker said his peace. She gave a curt nod to Spiff, “Let’s get on with this, shall we?” The street lights glinting off her rain slicked leather clothes, she did an about face, her duster swirling slightly about her legs, and mounted the van. As she passed by Croaker, she gave him a brief look only he could see, to let him know she was dissatisfied with the way he had handled that situation.

She took her place in the back of the van, settling in quickly, and waited for Spiff and one of his cronies to join them.