“I don’t run no more, Spiff. What I did back there was pretty basic, pretty dirty. I’m a street samurai now, an’ that’s it.”

Spiff wasn't just shocked by the nasty look Preacher gave him, but by the flat out lies that he was spewing. Though it hadn't been full-out, he had run for Spiff, dropping that forum message only a few hours ago.

"That ain't gonna fly cowboy." He shifted his weight and grabbed the bridge of his nose, massaging away the building headache. "I could use a full-time gunman just as much as a 'runner, but an 'I don't do that anymore' excuse is bull and you know it." He stood much shorter than this big man, and probably wouldn't stand a chance drawing a gun faster than him, but this was way beyond what Spiff was up for dealing with this evening.

He flipped open his phone and waved it at Preacher. "What did you do just 2 hours ago? I'm not asking you to jack in all day every day. I just know that none, and I repeat NONE of us will survive if we don't have someone keeping this megacorp off our scent." He dropped his phone, it could handle the fall. It wasn't just a simple demonstration of how frustrated he was, but he wanted to symbolize the following words with the sound of the electrodes crashing to the ground.

"Without someone like you, we're all dead. So maybe you should understand what I'm asking here. I'm not asking you to put your life on the line every day like this big guy here;" Spiff motioned at the bodyguard next to Scribe, "instead, I'm asking you to get paid to do something you know. I got no problem with you blasting away whoever pisses you off, but I need you to save our asses here. You're gonna bail on people who just spent the whole night gunnin' down gang bangers with you for what? You are turning down a paying job, where you get to 'street samurai' to your heart's content AND get paid for it because why? What's worse, I'm not even asking you to do it solely for me, but doing this will be protecting yourself. What kind of rationale are you using here? You aren't makin' any sense here. You gotta give me more than that."

He knelt down, picking up his phone and closing it, checking that it lit up in the right ways before popping it back into his pocket. "Now I'm gonna ask this as a guy who knows what you're worth, and a man who knows how much cash is in your pocket." He took a deep breath and looked Preacher square in the eyes. "What's it gonna take to get you on board?"

((will backpost further as necessary))

“You scuffed the casing’s all, Spiff.” Scribe looked down at his bag where his precious camera was stowed. “Everything still works fine. Look, the cab’s on me. It’ll drop you boys wherever you want to go, but I, for one, am going to a motel where I’m going to try and catch a few hours of sleep before starting on the second leg of this adventure."

"I hope you're right, those were armor piercing rounds. I appreciate the ride, and all your generosity this evening, but that wasn't the crux of our conversation gato. What about the broadcast?"

((will backpost further as necessary))

Spiff sat in the cab, examining the hole in his jeans. He'd need to get a new pair, because repairs never quite looked right on jeans. The cab ride was, fortunately uneventful. The shocking part for him was, when they arrived, Scribe paid for Spiff/Preacher's room also. Jason stopped him, giving him the cash back for the cost of his room. "I appreciate the sentiment gato, but your pocket's hurtin' also this evening. If you're not gonna meet up for lunch tomorrow, we should iron out the details now. Otherwise, I'll get my own ride tomorrow...unless you want to make small talk this time. The silence is killin' me."

When he got to his room, Spiff found it more than adequate.
((insert further conversation with Preacher here after backpost))
One might not think it's dingy attitude was Spiff's style, but this was nicer than most of the coffin motels he was used to crashing in. Dress nice, sleep cheap. That was the way you avoided detection on the streets. Never fit your persona.

He didn't trust the hotel alarm. Instead, he plugged in his phone to charge and set its alarm for 10:00am (or whatever time is necessary to go through the following activities you'll see and get to the destination by noon) letting the tone play-through once just as a last-minute check of how his phone was handling him dropping it earlier. Then he set the alarm clock the motel provided for 10:05am just in case.

Checking the blinds were closed, Spiff dropped his jacket on his duffle-bag next to the bed. He pulled his "Mark II" out of his side holster and ejected the clip, putting it on the nightstand to pop the round from the chamber with a swift jerk at the top of the gun. He caught the chambered round as it flew through the air (awkwardly) in his arms and let it roll down to his palm.

He put the shell back into the top of the clip and locked the gun in the open-chamber position as he set it next to the clip on the night stand. He was used to sleeping with his holdout on his ankle, and there was no way that was coming off him with someone else in the room. Not someone who was going to survive the encounter at least.

He fell onto the bed and closed his eyes, his head was throbbing and he was asleep in just a few moments. When he awoke in the morning, he jumped into the shower immediately, taking only time to get his overnight kit from his bag. He spent a full 20 minutes waking his body in the hot water and nursing his leg. He didn't leave the bathroom for another 10 minutes, shaving, using the bathroom, and brushing his teeth.

He combed his hair and put on his boxers, leaving the bathroom and tossing his jeans and t-shirt onto the bed. He pulled out his suit and dress shirt and put it on. He sighed as he pulled out his very expensive leather shoes and put them on. He could hear the rain outside the window, but he needed to buy new jeans, plus those were bloodstained and he needed to be professional. Besides, he wanted to check out how his jacket was doing after last night's Bloody Mary.

((this may look like I took liberties, but I didn't. This is irrelevant of Preacher's decision to work for me))

"Alright Preacher, I want you to meet the gang. Reverend's my right hand man. He'll be the one you'll need to get to know for the rest of your job." He put the clip back in his Mark II and chambered the round, sheathing it in his holster. He then threw the trenchcoat over the ensemble, mostly to protect it from the weather, but it would also help serve the purpose of covering up his weapon.

He stretched one more good time, put his jeans and shirt back into the bag, packing up his overnight-kit and zipping the bag and checking if Preacher was ready to find Scribe and head out.

Sam’s Place – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:39am

Lighting was running late as he normally was for anything not as late as he had been for some things but late still when he arrived at Sam’s Place. He just plain had no concept of time. He had went to bed late last night because he thought his tools could use a cleaning and organizing again. They always seemed to get disorganized and dirty when he did something with them. While he was cleaning them though he had gotten distracted thinking that his smart goggles needed a checking over. It was late when he managed to get done putting them back how they were after trying 3 different ways that he had thought would make them better then deciding he like the old way. He had gotten up early this morning only to realize his tools were dirty and disorganized once more. So he had set to work on them once more. He had finally managed to get them organized and less dirty then realized he had to be at Sam’s and how late he was running. So now he was racing in the door of Sam’s Place with all his gear in tow like always he never left his gear behind. He looked around for MDK but didn’t see him on the first 3 glances around the place then he began to star at the tech in the building and got distracted by thoughts of what he could do with it and the improvements he could make. He was about to grab a waitress and ask if he could speak to the owner about it when he remembered why he was here and began looking once more for MDK.

Sam’s Place – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:43am

The Metalstrom – Upper East Side – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 3:25am
At the bar, Croaker and Bull’s Eye having found out to the growling dismay of their stomachs, that no food was available nursed their beers and waited for Scarface’s return. Hours seemed like days as both he and Bull’s Eye sat at the bar then Croaker finally caught sight of Scarface pushing through the crowd followed by Hightower.

“All right, Choombattas,” Scarface said as he drew close, addressing the two of them. “It’s been decided that we’ll help you get rid of the vehicle as a favor to Bull’s Eye, and we’ll set you up in a safehouse for one day due to the information you’ve provided us. The Council is appreciative. Where are these other two you’re wanting to bring along?”

“So no new wheels or restock, ok no problem, anything of ours left in the van just bring to wherever you stash us. Oh one more thing tell your Council that I have more information for them if they want to hear it, information that could help your club out in a big way. If you’re Council wants a meet with me before the 24 is up you know where I will be. As to the other two, as you call them, they are right over there.”

Scarface nodded and then turned to the stairs. “Follow me, an’ bring your friends.”

Croaker caught Firewind’s eye and motioned for Peacekeeper and he to follow them as Scarface lead them upstairs to the second floor. Within a few minutes Scarface had led them back through the crowd to a steel door that was banged up and scratched to no end. Pulling a key from his pocket, the ganger opened the door and led the others through. Once inside, they were met by a set of five steps, up these and they found themselves in a sparsely furnished flat with very little insulation from the sound.

“This is it, Choomba,” Scarface turned and held his hands out. “Home, sweet home, for the next twenty-four hours that is. If you leave, lock up. You can usually find one of the Brawlers in the club, but it closes down around six and don’t open again until three, so if you decide to leave before it opens then leave the key at the bar downstairs, under the under the register. Sweet dreams, Hombre.”

That said, the two gangers left the four of them to themselves, and as they moved into the room a quick scan by both he and Peacekeeper telling them it was clear, they stored their gear and then Croaker turned to Firewind.

“Keahi as you have the most Euro of all of us make a quick run to the nearest Stuffer Shack and get us some food for the next 24, Colton go with him to cover his back. Be back here as soon as you can. Knock twice, then three times, then once more to let us know it‘s you”

Croaker watched as the two of them left and the relocked the door behind them moving to the small bed he sat down upon its edge and for the first time all night he breathed out a tired but relaxed breath.

(OOC: Next part is in collaboration with Cdnflirt)
“You ok lover” Jaimy asked dropping her Peacekeeper persona as she sat down beside him.
“Yeah it’s you I’m more worried about, how’s the wound, you in pain.” Richard reached over to gently touch the bandaged area as he asked.
“Yeah a little but its bearable could use a few 800mg ibuprofen though” She smiled to let him know not to worry but knowing him as she did no matter what she said he would still worry. Underneath his bullheaded bluster and gruff, blunt way he was a very gentle soul caught in a tough life, first with his tribe, and now on the streets.

“So Mall Plex girl you’re a bounty hunter huh, never would have pictured you as one Jaimy, how long.”
“Long time, before we met, I never told you because I was afraid of how you would have reacted to it.”
With a gentle smile, Richard raised his hand to her face and caressed it, longing in the feeling of her skin on his.
“You know me so well don’t you, yeah I would have blown a gasket knowing you were running the shadows like me. I love you Jaimy more then anyone I have ever known to lose you...”
Reaching for him before he could finish the statement Jaimy drew him close to her, both arms around him holding him tight.
“I know lover me too but I was hunting before I met you and it’s what I do, it’s in my blood. Not to brag but I am good, really good, you saw how I handled myself, if I was just Peacekeeper and not Jaimy would you say different.”

Richard leaned back and took hold of Jaimy’s face gently with both hands and looked at her with yet another tired smile.
“No your good, better then me maybe, but that’s not the point, I just wish you were back at the apt safe and not here with me. Knowing you were back there waiting for me to come home would have been great motivation to get out of this alive.”
Returning the favor she too took his face in her hands and leaned in to kiss him, the first one they had shared since he had left the apt early yesterday.
“I know but at least this way, whatever or whomever comes for us, we can face them together as a team knowing there is at least one person who will cover the others back no matter what. I love you Richard more then any man I have ever loved before and right now there is no time or place I would rather be then here, now, by your side to live or die.”
A determined look came into Croakers eyes as the Nomad was back once more if but only for a moment.
“Know this baby I will do whatever it takes, ally with whoever I need to, Jack, the Brawlers, hell Spiffy too, to get all of us out of this alive. But you and Bull’s Eye are my number one priority in that department. No matter what family comes first”
Without a word Jaimy leaned over to once again kiss this man she so loved and with that kiss Croaker the Nomad was gone and once again Richard was in his place.

The kiss continued and soon turned into gentle caresses, both of them longing for a minute of peace. The bed was their safe house, their bodies molded together in a tight loving fit. Soft moans of pleasure escaped the lips of both, to be lost in the sounds of metal, as the band below them played their last rifts. Two bodies for a moment in time becoming one as passion rose to a final threshold then was crossed to leave both tired, energy spent, on the verge of passing out, but happy. Together they lay there just two ordinary people, a man and a women deeply in love, the Nomad and the Bounty Hunter part of their lives for the moment forgotten. Soon Richard was fast asleep, Jaimy watching over him, her fingers gently playing through his hair, as she waited for the others to return...

The Metalstrom – Upper East Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 6:15am

She watched him sleeping, her fingers running through his hair, for the first time his beautiful body relaxed, the stress of these evenings’ events for the moment lost.
She knew he meant his words to her and it made her heart feel good but also scared her to think of the lengths he might be willing to go to get them all out of this. Though he played at being big and bad he was a very protective soul and even with all his years on these tough streets with no family and alone there was yet a glimmer of humanity within him. She would hate to see him lose that though she knew he would trade it in a heartbeat for her. Leaning close to him she whispered to him so as not to wake him.

“Don’t worry Lover I will always love you no matter what you have to do. I make you this promise, here and now, if you should die and I live I will avenge you no matter how long it takes.”

With those words spoken she leaned back only to be brought back to the present as knocks came upon the door.

Knock, Knock…Knock, Knock, Knock…Knock.
Moving to the door she opened it and let both in motioning them to try to be quiet as they entered.
“Croaker’s asleep, lets go ahead and let him rest, he can eat once he wakes up, so what did you find us to eat?”

With the club below them quiet and food inside them one by one they fell asleep, Jaimy in Richards arms once again.

The Metalstrom – Upper East Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:40am
“Keahi, as you have the most Euro of all of us make a quick run to the nearest Stuffer Shack and get us some food for the next 24, Colton go with him to cover his back. Be back here as soon as you can. Knock twice, then three times, then once more to let us know it‘s you”

Croaker watched as the two of them left and the relocked the door behind them moving to the small bed he sat down upon its edge and for the first time all night he breathed out a tired but relaxed breath.

Firewind made no grumblings about covering the expenses. He was too tired, too hungry, and too done with that night to care. The pair hurried into the night barely saying a word to each other. They were back in what they figured was a short time carrying two bags of warm food and a few bottled beers.

“Croaker’s asleep, lets go ahead and let him rest, he can eat once he wakes up, so what did you find us to eat?” Peacekeeper said when they were let in.

“Soyburgers,” Bull’s Eye said matter-of-fact. “And beer.” The nomad was already popping a lid on one of the amber bottles. The group ate, waking Croaker so that he could share. Keahi knew it wasn’t food for twenty-four hours, but he hadn’t been about to walk the streets looking for a convenience store, and the burger shack had been relatively close, so he wasn’t concerning himself with that particular problem.

After the meal, they each fell asleep in the comfort of a guarded local with relative ambiguity. It was Firewind’s watch alarm that woke them leaving the group with a half hour to get to the Red Lantern for the meet. When they exited the Metalstrom, crews were still assembling the furniture, and cleaning up from the previous night’s activity. The storm was still in full swing, causing the group to hunch against the ferocity of it until they could reach a bus bunker. There they hailed a cab, and again at Keahi’s expense, they were carted over to the Red Lantern.

It didn’t take them long to spot Spiff, Scribe, Guardian, and Preacher. Informing the hostess of their pending meeting, they quickly found themselves seated around the table, the previous night’s hostility towards one another not forgotten and slowly poisoning the air until Peacekeeper’s cellphone rang.

“You still with that nomad output o’ yours, Lass?” The voice was Springed-Heel Jack’s.

(OOC: assuming a response to the affirmative…)

“Tell ‘im t’ expec’ some ‘elp in the form of a tall Asian fellow named MDK. I’ll upload target information t’ yer phone in a minute.” Then the line went dead.

The timing couldn’t have been better, because that’s when the tall Asian and his companion arrived.

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm

---

Crisis Medical Center – Medical Center – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 4:05am
Preacher was a patient man. He hadn't always been such, but life experience and certain paths he'd taken in his various careers had forced him to create a habit of patience. This wasn't to be mistaken with understanding however, and Spiff's attempt to call a bluff that wasn't there was something he didn't understand. This was, after all, the Twenty-First Century; the Net a known, and understood separation from the Internet--also not to be confused with the megacorporation Internet--with the IG Algorithms making Netrunning as different from Internet Use as space flight was from handling the remote control of an RC plane. At least, that was how Preacher had always viewed things, even back in his Three Musketeer days when he and The Girls had made fun of the geriatric methods most of their school mates were using to get by on the Internet during the IG Algorithm’s infancy.

"Look, friend," Preacher closed his eyes and forced himself to remember that not everyone was as tech savvy as he was. "I think you've confused Netrunning fer pokin' around on the surface of the Internet. Quick explanation is one's a puddle, the other's a frackin' ocean o' Spring Break babes deep water, and a frackin' motherload o' sharks. I don't swim with the sharks no more...too much blood still in the water. All I done tonight is splash about in a few puddles--it ain't nothin' you couldn't have done had you spent a few minutes with a search engine.

"You want someone to throw the scent off for those big dogs that are on the hunt? Well, you're gonna hafta hire yourself a true netrunner--one that's been in the game a lot more recent than I. Puddle skippin' ain't gonna cut it for what you need done. Now, you interested in letting me pay your kindness back with twenty-four hours of watching your six, well, that I can do. Hell! I might be able to hook you up with a real netrunner if I dig hard enough."

"Now I'm gonna ask this as a guy who knows what you're worth, and a man who knows how much cash is in your pocket." Spiff took a deep breath and looked Preacher square in the eyes. "What's it gonna take to get you on board?"

Preacher watched as the fixer retrieved the dropped cell silently wondering after the benefit Spiff had received from treating his electronics with such irreverence. Even though he'd given up the netrunning, he still viewed technology with a near pious mentality. As the fixer finished up his thoughts, Preacher found one point hard to argue. A netrunner was definitely useful. Unless they went so low tech they'd be mistaken for nomads, the Biotechnica netrunners could track them in their daily use of amenities; depending on what information was available, obviously. And in a city that never slept, where everyone had a price, it was only a matter of time before someone fessed up to seeing one, or more members of their sorry little party. After that it'd be "Connect the Dots" to catch up with the rest of them.

The solo hadn't known this bunch for long so he wasn't sure he could trust any one of them not to sell his skin to save their own. That meant he'd have to take his fate into his own hands, and his own particular brand of honor stated quite clearly that he had to pay Spiff back for the medical care.

"Let me think on it a bit," he drawled as the cab came into view. "At the very least you got an extra gun on hand fer the next few hours."

That was apparently satisfactory, and the solo was grateful for the change in attention as Spiff offered to make good on his bid to take care of Scribe’s camera.

“You scuffed the casing’s all, Spiff.” Scribe looked down at his bag where his precious camera was stowed. “Everything still works fine. Look, the cab’s on me. It’ll drop you boys wherever you want to go, but I, for one, am going to a motel where I’m going to try and catch a few hours of sleep before starting on the second leg of this adventure."

"I hope you're right, those were armor piercing rounds. I appreciate the ride, and all your generosity this evening, but that wasn't the crux of our conversation gato. What about the broadcast?"

Scribe motioned towards the dingy cab interior and smiled a winning smile. “Nope. Not gonna reveal that secret just yet, Spiff. Besides, I’m groggy-tired, and I might screw up the story enough to send you in circles for hours. Be patient, gato and we’ll take care of that upload when we’ve a little sleep behind us.”

***

Scribe accepted Spiff’s payment for his and Preacher’s room with a nod and a wink, once again indicating that he wasn’t about to spill the beans. Then the group parted company on the third floor leaving Spiff and Preacher to their room while Scribe and Guardian made their way down the hall a bit further to where their room was located.

“All right, Gato,” Preacher said as Spiff took care of his Mark II. The solo had dropped his own bag on the scarred table and had his back turned to the fixer as he slowly removed his armored clothing. “Here’s the just of it straight as straight can be. I’m beat up—passable, but beat up none-the-less. Truth of the matter is that I won’t be nearly as effective even with the medical care you’ve been so kind as to pay for.” The solo turned to Spiff and slowly removed his hat, revealing the bloodstained bandage about his scalp and his pale complexion. “There weren’t no fronts, no lies, bein’ told back at the hospital, despite what you think. I made a vow some time ago not to set foot in the Net again, and that’s why this cowboy plays with guns. Now, I’m not much good at neither in my current shape, but as much as I’d like nothin’ more than to drop down on that bed and hope to God that Biotechnica catches up to me before I wake up and my pain meds wear off, I’m in this as deep as you—deeper maybe, since I was with the original crew.

“I guess what I’m sayin’ is that you’ve got my skills, as they stand, though I still figure they ain’t much compared to what we’re facin’. If you’ve got cash-money, I’d suggest you let me try and hook you up with a netrunner you can trust, who is up to speed on the latest tech. I can jack in, but I don’t know how pretty it’d be, and I don’t have the—“ he paused for a moment and drew in a steadying breath. “—The crew with me that I was used t’ runnin’ with, so it’d be a whole different experience than what I’m used to. Still, I’ll do what’s necessary to stay alive, and pinching the nerve of a megacorp is just a bit of icing on that cake.”

Spiff’s response, whether physical or verbal, is answered by silence and Preacher makes his way to the restroom to clean up before bed. Within fifteen minutes, the solo is lying on top of his covers, apparently oblivious to the raging storm outside the window, and the habits of the fixer as he prepares himself for sleep.

***

"Alright Preacher, I want you to meet the gang.” Spiff said out of the blue the next morning as the two finished returning to their streetwear, and snazzing up a bit in the fixer’s case. “Reverend's my right hand man. He'll be the one you'll need to get to know for the rest of your job." He put the clip back in his Mark II and chambered the round, sheathing it in his holster. He then threw the trenchcoat over the ensemble, mostly to protect it from the weather, but it would also help serve the purpose of covering up his weapon.

He stretched one more good time, put his jeans and shirt back into the bag, packing up his overnight-kit and zipping the bag, checking if Preacher was ready to find Scribe and head out.

“Fair enough,” Preacher still looked pale, but he was ambulatory, and that’s what apparently counted. Within seconds, the two of them were stepping out into the hall and making their way down to Scribe and Guardian’s room. Preacher kept scanning the hall, his hand hovering near his weapon just in case. He was now on duty, and despite only a few hours sleep, he needed to be on his top game or his reputation would suffer. In this day and age, reputation was as valuable as Euros.

Spiff rapped on the door leaving a quick, sharp echo in the hall that dwindled to nothing in less than a heartbeat. After a moment, the deep voice of Guardian asks, “Who’s there?” The answer was satisfactory, and the group found itself joined up once more.

“Morning, Sunshine,” DigitalScribe grinned broadly and raised his eyebrows a bit at Spiff’s attire. “All right, as I was just telling Guardian, we’re in the door, now all we have to do is deliver the story.” That said, Scribe nudged his bag with the toe of his boot.

“And that means?” Preacher asked, leaning against a wall, arms folded across his chest. The rain had done a decent job of clearing away most of the blood from his outfit. Sad fact was that it was still raining.

“That means I need a studio, and a genius.” Frankie continued to smile as he bent and shouldered his bag. “And I know just where to get both. Kinda a two for one deal, you know?”

“What of Croaker an’ the others?” Preacher pressed.

“We still have about three hours,” Scribe answered. “If we hurry I can drop off the footage and give the instructions before we make our way to the Red Lantern. Besides which, I’m gonna need a coffee, and maybe a burrito, or something. Breakfast is on the way.”

“Where?” Again, Preacher seemed reluctant to step foot outside the door without some direction.

“To the New Harbor Mallplex. You done with the twenty-questions, Cowboy? ‘Cause I’ve got me a mighty hunger,” Scribe faked the country drawl that set Preacher aside as not from the city, though he smiled as he did so.

The location Scribe spoke of resided in the New Harbor district of Downtown Night City. Every one in the party knew the location, though the exact boundaries weren’t every actually discussed, it was a well-known fact that the McCartney Stadium and the New Harbor Mallplex were basically the district. It fit well with Spiff’s plans to get new clothes, and was conspicuously public in case anyone were out to hit them. It was also practically next door by way of city districts, and was an easy enough, inexpensive ride by Red Cab totaling ten Euro for the group.

McCartney Stadium resided on one side of the small canal that separated the two facilities. Looming and not unlike a rather futuristic version of the Roman arenas of the Ancient World, the stadium was well known for housing the Night City Rangers football club, the Night City Slammers baseball club, The Night City Heat basketball club, and the Night City Deathdealers combat soccer club as well as being a favorite place for slashers and bashers to hang out before roughing a few people up.

The New Harbor Mallplex was partially on the same side of the canal as the stadium, but mostly resided on the south side; with its shining, sleek surfaces, neon-gilded signs, and holographic overhead displays, the mallplex is definitely a bastion of technology and compact living all rolled into one. But they’d all seen it before, and Scribe wasn’t waiting around for sightseers anyway.

The media led the group straight through the main shopping concourse, apparently oblivious to the three levels of open shopping, the massive amounts of people wandering about in their designer clothing: Icon America, fashionwear, Dignity, MaxiWear, Destry Fashions, even Gibson and RufTread. There were Mohawks mixed with hundred-Euro hair styles, diamond necklaces mixed with spiked dog collars. It was the Petri dish of society, the melding pot of class, and Scribe wasn’t so much as mildly concerned for the scenery, even when the group passed Bastion Swimwear where a paid swimsuit model paraded around in the glass window wearing less clothing than what was necessary to cover herself up properly and sporting light tattoos in all of the right places to draw the eye to just those spots unsuitable for public display. No, Scribe was explaining things to Spiff as they went.

“I met this guy a while back while covering a story about braindance porn. He was as dirty-minded as you could possibly imagine, but he was good. Did a job on Kari Eurodyne—made her up from scratch, and put such a scandal in place over her sex recording that her popularity skyrocketed. That was just the beginning of his particular brand of genius though—“

Led by Scribe through the maze of vendors and storefronts, the group eventually found their way into Action Jackets where everyone outfits themselves to their tastes with clothing accessories and armorjackets, jeans, t-shirts—fashionable, but useful. Then, renewed and in clean clothing, the group proceeded on to the concourse bridge-way that led them across the canal with an open, clear plastic view of the still-raging storm. Stopping at the huge plas-glass face of the Business Tower, Scribe stepped forward from the rest of the party.

“J.D. Billet, Ebertech.”

”One moment please; searching… Mr. J.D. Billet is registered as a braindance design engineer with Ebertech. Is this who you are searching for?” a sensual, yet somehow businesslike disembodied female voice asked while the shimmering image of the perfect secretary appeared just a few feet in front of DigitalScribe’s position.

“Yes,” Frankie said with a bit of a smile.

”Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” Scribe was still smiling. “But let him know that DigitalScribe says he’s a lame-ass excuse for a designer will ya? Tell him that the Kari Eurodyne looked like a plastic blow up doll.”

”One moment please, Mr. DigitalScribe,”
“It’s gonna repeat all that?” Preacher asked in a monotone voice. He’d opted to keep his hat, but had bought a can of nanoagents to clean it, leaving it with a couple of holes in it, but otherwise as good as new. He knew all about AIs and was just then figuring that this secretary was only a partial construct, and would likely reveal to this J.D. Billet exactly what Scribe had asked it to. Sure enough…

”Mr. Billet has asked me to show you up. He says to tell you, Mr. DigitalScribe, that your stories are about as believable as your hair, and that you would never make it on the air without his help given how you are uglier than the view of a bull elephant in heat from the underbelly, but that you are more than welcome to come on up and try to beg for his assistance now.”
Scribe chuckled and followed the AI as it passed through the doors when they opened, leading the group on through to the elevators with a seductive sway to her transparent hips.

Ebertech was a fairly well-known software firm that focused on the addictive, yet popular, braindance medium. The top two floors of the business tower were its domain, and it was to the first of these two floors that the four were led. After disembarking from the elevator, they were led down a long hall, passing numerous people who gave them cursory glances, open lounge areas where people reclined on couches barefoot, with exceptionally thin laptop computers at work. Then, they made their way through a set of swinging doors painted blue and red, into a tiled hall with pale lighting and few doors marked as studios, to a series of small offices; one of which had the plaque bearing J.D.’s name on the door.

J.D. Billet was a very large man though he stood no taller than five and a half feet. To those who entered the office he appeared to weigh nearly four hundred pounds. His mouth was practically lost in the roundness of his face, and his eyes were beady with digital readout displays. He was overflowing from the ergonomic office chair that he remained seated in as he swiveled about to greet his visitors, an interface wire running from his left temple to the star-shaped pancake box on his desk. There were various vidscreens up about his desktop, a rather high-tech looking keyboard, three large storage devices, and at least two cameras, three microphones, a holographic projector, and any number of action figures from various braindance games including more than one naked ceramic woman.

“You look like sh*t, J.D.,” Scribe said with just a little fondness to soften the observation. It was true, the man’s long, brown hair was oily and thinning. His moo-moo-like t-shirt was stained down the front, right across the nose of a blond vixen making a lewd gesture with her hand while only barely covering up her nakedness.

“Can’t say much better about you, ya attention hound,” J.D.’s voice was a high wheeze, like he functioned the same as a bagpipe. There were a few more pleasantries before Scribe introduced everyone all around simply by their names and then made sure the door was closed trapping the lot of them in with the odor of sweaty fat man.

“Are we Kosher?” Scribe asked, only proceeding after he’d received a heavy nod from the computer programmer. “Good. I’ve got a job for you if you’re up for it, but I need it this evening.”

“Tight schedule, Mr. Dancing Chicken. What is it?”

“I’ve some footage, but the people in it need to be dressed differently than they are now, and the tampering needs to be sooooooo hard to notice that it wouldn’t be worth the network’s dime to flip for a check.”

“Tall order,” J.D. let out a sigh that sounded like the air decompressing from a vacuum. “What’s the pay?”

“It’s barely a couple minutes of bytes, Choomba. What’s your price?”

“Five grand,” J.D. blinked rapidly as though that number frightened him.

“One.”

“You’re killin’ me, Scribe. Four seven five. This ain’t gonna be no easy thing.”

“One two five. That detective ever get back to you about that underage footage?”

“You’re a dick. Four five.”

“One five, and remember who happened to find you that one-of-a-kind Jenna Davison, uh, action figure.”

“That was in payment for something entirely different! That goes against the rules! Three eight. That’s a righteous price for the quality. You remember just how tight my work is, Media Hound? Well worth it.”

“Two straight,” Scribe answered generously acknowledging the jump the programmer made in price with one of his own. “You know, I hear tell there’s this pirate datafortress just crawling with celebrity images—non compliant images I might add. Some real good Kari Eurodynes walking around flashing their breasts to those lucky enough to get in…”

“You’re trying to get me killed!” J.D. was sweating bullets now, but Scribe was still smiling his friendly smile. “All right, all right. Two. I’ll do it for two. Now gimme the data.”

The media produced his camera as well as an interface cable. Plugging one end into the camera he handed J.D. the other.

“Hey, J.D.,” Scribe said as the fat man plugged the machine in. “I really appreciate the offer. That was right big of ya.”

“What offer?” Billet was busy typing on his keyboard in order to get the connection to download where he designated and was only half listening.

“The discount. You’re one helluvah guy to realize that this was a tight spot and offer me that discount.”

“Huh?” J.D. was still only half listening.

“One helluvah guy.” Scribe fetched his wallet from his jacket pocket and produced a handful of bills. Counting out a selection he set them on the desk and replaced his wallet. “I mean, to accept five hundred Euro when I know you had your heart set on two grand is mighty big of you. We’ll see you around closing time.”

The media gave the large man a pat on his shoulder and then motioned everyone out. Just as he was closing the door behind him J.D. woke from his interface dream.

“Five hundred!? I said two—“

“Helluvah guy,” Scribe said with a wide grin on his face as he closed the door behind them.

“You don’t think he’ll give you crap now that you’ve stiffed him?” Preacher asked as they made their way out of the building.

“Naw,” Scribe grinned over at the cowboy. “He’s got too much pride in his work. He’ll produce the best he can in the timeframe he has. Nothing to worry about. Now, what say you we get some coffee, and then kill some time at Gelbert’s World Information before heading over to the Red Lantern?”

“’Every man’s work shall be made manifest.’ 1st Corinthians iii. 6.” Preacher muttered just loud enough for Spiff and Guardian to hear as they followed Scribe to the store front of the city’s best known information gatherer (besides Infocomp, of course), pausing just long enough to grab some coffee and a bagel from a vending booth.

Once there Scribe spent a few more bucks to peruse the “Public Knowledge Database” leaving Preacher standing near the door carefully watching the concourse outside and occasionally trading glares with the security detail on hand while Spiff and Guardian did as they pleased. The group left Gelbert’s with enough time to catch a cab (another fee of ten Eb) to the Red Lantern where they entered, snatching up a table suitable for ten. By this time, they were hungry once more, and had just begun perusing the menu when Croaker and party arrived a little wet, but none the worse for wear.

Red Lantern Restaurant – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm

---

Sam’s Place – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:33am
The blonde man sat, the other remained standing, watching MDK’s every move like a cat ready to pounce on a tense mouse.

“I’ve got a gig for you if you’ve got the cohunes. It pays big, by way of five figures. I was told you weren’t the type to just jump at money, so I’ll paint you a picture. Ten people need to wind up dead. Ten very specific people. You don’t even have to do the killing, just get the people to a particular local and you get paid. Two grand for each person with a kicker of four for the tenth. That’s twenty-two grand to just arrange a…meeting. What say you?”

(OOC: No matter the response, and back-posting required…)

MDK and Lightning were the last two to arrive at the noon meeting at the Red Lantern. Neither man knew who they were looking for specifically, but MDK had received a brief description on his phone that morning while waiting at the café and it was pretty easy to match that description with Croaker and Peacekeeper. Beside’s which: he’d heard of Peacekeeper, had even seen pictures of her in the Solo of Fortune magazine, though the story hadn’t been on her, she’d received brief recognition for her part in bringing down a rather infamous criminal. The piece had been on bounty hunters, and though she wasn’t the main story, a brief mention in Solo of Fortune was something. Another individual that stood out at that table was the large black fellow. MDK felt he knew that man by reputation as well, and if he were right all those hours with his ear pressed tightly to the ground had just paid off. He had to be about to share lunch with Guardian, a fairly well known bodyguard if you had access to the right circles. The others at the table he didn’t recognize, except Croaker (and then only because of the description on his phone).

There was the islander with the tribal tattoos covering his face wearing medical combat armor and looking tired; the short, heavily tattooed, leather wearing tough; the cowboy who wore bandages like they were accessories; the suit who could likely charm the skin off a snake, and a slick-looking fellow in a trench coat with TechHair v.2 currently glowing with a low-intensity red out of the ends.

The two men approached the table, with MDK’s lead and Lightning following until they reached the group under the watchful eyes of the bounty hunter, bodyguard, and cowboy.

Red Lantern Restaurant – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm

Sam’s Place – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:33am
The blonde man sat, the other remained standing, watching MDK’s every move like a cat ready to pounce on a tense mouse.

“I’ve got a gig for you if you’ve got the cohunes. It pays big, by way of five figures. I was told you weren’t the type to just jump at money, so I’ll paint you a picture. Ten people need to wind up dead. Ten very specific people. You don’t even have to do the killing, just get the people to a particular local and you get paid. Two grand for each person with a kicker of four for the tenth. That’s twenty-two grand to just arrange a…meeting. What say you?”
Mae had his eyes on the blond man before him but his target reticule was still locked on his bodyguard. Hearing the man’s offer he didn’t expect trouble but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

He thought over the offer the man was giving him, the money was good and he could use it, but there was the matter of the other job which wouldn’t pay him anything really. He took a slow sip of his coffee and as he did he looked up and saw Lightning across the room looking around the place. The Tech was anything but subtle, as he was obviously looking for someone.

“Well the pay sounds good,” he said to the blonde man, “but who are the invited guests?”

(Reply.. Though I can imagine who it might be. )

MDK nods slightly at the info. He had received a message a few minutes ago telling him who he had to meet at the Red Lantern later.

“And whom might you be working for that would want these people dead.” he asked and added before the man could reply, “I like to know who is paying my bill.”

(Whatever the reply)

“Tell me where and when this ‘meeting’ is to take place,” he said dryly, “If a meeting can be arranged then I will let you know… leave me your number.”

The waitress arrived with his breakfast and he asked for a refill on his coffee, once she was gone he turned back to the man as he picked up his utensils.

“I wont guarantee that I will do the job,” he said looking down at his food, “but I will look into it and if I take the job I will call you about the ‘meeting’.”

He began to eat his food apparently turning his attention from the two men, his business for now concluded.
After the men leave he will raise his head and whistle sharply to get Lightning’s attention and wave him over. Once he sits he will tell the waitress to give him whatever he wants to eat, on Mae of course.

Mae will tell Lightning briefly about the message he had received and who they were looking to meet at the Red Lantern later. If Lightning saw the two men he was with when he came in, Mae would just tell him that they had wanted to hire him for another job and he had told them he would consider it.

He would concentrate on eating and indulge in only small talk with the Tech. After they were done he would pay the bill and looking at his watch head outside to hail a cab.


Red Lantern Restaurant – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm
MDK and Lightning were the last two to arrive at the noon meeting at the Red Lantern. Neither man knew who they were looking for specifically, but MDK had received a brief description on his phone that morning while waiting at the café and it was pretty easy to match that description with Croaker and Peacekeeper. Beside’s which: he’d heard of Peacekeeper, had even seen pictures of her in the Solo of Fortune magazine, though the story hadn’t been on her, she’d received brief recognition for her part in bringing down a rather infamous criminal. The piece had been on bounty hunters, and though she wasn’t the main story, a brief mention in Solo of Fortune was something. Another individual that stood out at that table was the large black fellow. MDK felt he knew that man by reputation as well, and if he were right all those hours with his ear pressed tightly to the ground had just paid off. He had to be about to share lunch with Guardian, a fairly well known bodyguard if you had access to the right circles. The others at the table he didn’t recognize, except Croaker (and then only because of the description on his phone).

There was the islander with the tribal tattoos covering his face wearing medical combat armor and looking tired; the short, heavily tattooed, leather wearing tough; the cowboy who wore bandages like they were accessories; the suit who could likely charm the skin off a snake, and a slick-looking fellow in a trench coat with TechHair v.2 currently glowing with a low-intensity red out of the ends.

The two men approached the table, with MDK’s lead and Lightning following until they reached the group under the watchful eyes of the bounty hunter, bodyguard, and cowboy.
Mae showed no fear as he walked right up to the table where the group was gathered. He stopped in front of them and looked at each one in turn as if sizing them up. When his gaze paused on Peacekeeper he gave her a little nod but his face betrayed no other sign of emotion. He ended his appraisal on the Nomad, the one his intel said was called Croaker. He looked him over for a good 10 seconds then nodded to him.

“I’m MDK,” he announced, “I believe you are expecting me.”

Mae didn’t ask what the job was, or any other details for he knew that he would be told so why waste time asking now. He didn’t sit down or ask to sit, for until he knew the situation he would rather stay mobile if the need arose. He was ready for action but his outward appearance appeared relaxed though if these people were as good as he had heard they would be fooled by appearances.

Red Lantern Restaurant – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:07pm

The following post is presented with the full ok by Brom
The Metalstrom – Upper East Side – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:40am
Croaker slept, he dreamed of things he would not remember upon waking, but seemed all too real to him in those moments. Bad or good it did not matter as he awoke to the gentle touch of Jaimy’s hand to find that Bulls Eye and Firewind had returned, and with them food. A brief meal and a semi-full stomach Croaker lay back down on the bed with Jaimy curled next to him and fell back to sleep.

It was Firewind’s watch alarm that woke them at 11:00am and from the sounds below them it was clear to the four that the cleanup crews were still assembling the furniture, and cleaning up from the previous night’s activity. Outside the storm was still in full swing, causing the rain and hail hitting the sides and roof of the building to sound like miniature firecrackers.

With the last of the Soy Burgers eaten and still no word from Jack all Croaker wanted for the moment was to wait, try to make plans for a new place to stay after their 24 hours expired, and to somehow get the gear needed to raid wherever Jack would send them.

“Croaker got a minute” The Nomad turned to find Firewind standing at his elbow.

“What’s up?”

“Shouldn’t we be moving to the Red Lantern to meet up with the rest?”

“The rest, the rest of what, ya mean Spiff and his sidekicks, now why in the hell would I want to do that”

“I don’t know Croaker maybe safety in numbers, more guns means more firepower, hell allies are always a good thing.”

For the moment Croaker was quiet but then his emotions got the better of him.

“Allies the last person in this city, hell on this planet, I want for an ally is fixer boy Spiff. Look I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him as the saying goes. He left Guardian and Peacekeeper alone on that fire escape and ran away. He is a backstabbing coward that ain’t worth a s**t to no one, frag even Jack told him he was a p***y”

“Croaker your right he is all that but in the end, to paraphrase an old saying as you just did. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.”

“Firewind no one is keeping you here if you want to go, go I will not stop you.”

Out of the corner of his eye Croaker could see Bulls Eye watching the debate but not saying a word. Croaker knew that no matter what was said between him and Firewind his Nomad brother would follow his choice. But the look in his brother’s eyes and the hard line of his jaw told him that Bulls Eye too felt as Firewind.
Still semi-angry Croaker turned his attention to him.

“So I guess you think we should go to the Lantern too huh”

“Look brother we are family where you go, I go, no matter what, but Firewind makes sense with the whole friends, enemy, more guns, more firepower BS. Can we afford not to at least meet with Spiff; look at it this way no one says we have to like him. We go to the meet, hear what is said between everyone and then we decide if we stay or go.”

Not saying a word Croaker stood up, moved past Firewind and Bulls Eye and out through the rooms door. It was here a few moments later that Jaimy found him leaning on stairways railing.

(Next part done in cooperation with Cdnflirt.)
“You ok Lover” Her hands moving to rub his tensed shoulders.

“No” The Nomad replied without elaborating

“Talk to me”

“I don’t trust Spiff, I don’t like the little weasel, and I think dealing with him is a mistake. He has yet to prove he is worth a s**t in a fire fight, yeah he’s got the gift of gab make no mistake, but he does not have the cajones to back it up.”

“Ok your right he left me and Guardian on the fire escape but so what I’m still here, if that’s the only reason for your feelings towards him then Lover that’s a problem. Look you and I are both professionals, good at what we do, but your letting your emotions get the best of you, why is that, because its ME Spiff left behind. Not Guardian or some other runner but me, Jaimy Hammond aka Peacekeeper, love of your life and soul mate, tell me I’m wrong Richard I dare you.”

“Ok ok God**mn it your right it’s about you it has been from the minute I saw you walk into the meet with Jack. What did you think, I was happy to find out you’re the fragging famous Bounty Hunter Peacekeeper. Did you forget that I am wanted by quite a few big wigs and cops due to my ’family'. Jesus Christ Jaimy I always thought that one day someone would send her after me and I was not going to be good enough to take her.
Now I come to find out it was you all along and frag I been sleeping with my worst fear.”

The last said with a pained sarcastic laugh and the accompanying release of pent up air; her hands to his face Jaimy turned him to look him directly in the eyes.

“Richard I knew about those bounties but I would never have taken them for real as much as you love me I love you more. Yeah I led others to believe I was looking for you, even killed one or two rivals who took up the search for you and got too close. But trust me Lover as long as I’m alive I will do everything, use anyone, in my power to keep us both, and now Bulls Eye, safe the three of us are family and I won't forget that. But you have to stop thinking of me as Jaimy Hammond and start thinking of me as Peacekeeper or your worries over my safety will get me, you, Bulls Eye and anyone else with us dead. Also think about Frankie, even though I myself do not like him, he is still your friend and stayed that way even after we tried to kill him, ya at least owe him a sit down. Plus for the time being we need to trust Spring Heeled Jack, look you know now that I have worked for him before, and I trust him more then most. You say you love me ok fair enough and I love you too, but do you trust me”

The question seemed to hang in the air between them as if a living entity growing with every second of silence. Then without a word Richard bent down to kiss her hard, his arms pulling her close to him.
Releasing her he stepped back, took a breath, and took another long look at Jaimy then with her following moved back into the room.

“OK gather up all the gear we’re headed to the meet as we have no wheels we need a taxi so let’s make sure all weapons are nicely out of sight. Next who has the key?”
Firewinds hand came up.
“Leave it behind we won’t be coming back here anytime soon.”

A few minutes later with everything packed up and their ready weapons loaded and available for fast use they exited the Metalstrom as the crews Croaker had heard upon waking were still assembling the furniture, and cleaning up from the previous night’s activity. The storm was still in full swing, causing the group to hunch against the ferocity of it until they could reach a bus bunker. There they hailed a cab, and again at Firewind’s expense, they were carted over to the Red Lantern.

The Red Lantern
It didn’t take them long to spot Spiff, Scribe, Guardian, and Preacher. Informing the hostess of their pending meeting, they quickly found themselves seated around the table, the previous night’s hostility towards one another not forgotten. In a calm hard voice, keeping all emotion out of it, Croaker looked to Spiff.

“Ok Spiff lets get one thing straight, talking for myself Peacekeeper and Bulls Eye, we will listen to what is said here and if its on the up and up we will work with you, but not for you. We talk everything out and everyone gets a say, but in the field I am in charge, behind the scenes and dealing with the mechanics of gear, contacts and so on I leave that to you and your fondness for BS. Make no mistake Spiff, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and the first time you order me, Peacekeeper, Bulls Eye or anyone else to do something that’s out of your area you can say goodbye. Do we have a deal?”

It was at that moment when Peacekeeper’s cell phone rang.

“You still with that nomad output o’ yours, Lass?” The voice was Springed-Heel Jack’s.

“Yes you know I am, we're all here at the Lantern waiting on you.”

“Tell ‘im t’ expec’ some ‘elp in the form of a tall Asian fellow named MDK. I’ll upload target information t’ yer phone in a minute.” Then the line went dead.

The timing couldn’t have been better, because that’s when the tall Asian and his companion arrived.

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm

"Look, friend, I think you've confused Netrunning fer pokin' around on the surface of the Internet. Quick explanation is one's a puddle, the other's a frackin' ocean o' Spring Break babes deep water, and a frackin' motherload o' sharks. I don't swim with the sharks no more...too much blood still in the water. All I done tonight is splash about in a few puddles--it ain't nothin' you couldn't have done had you spent a few minutes with a search engine. You want someone to throw the scent off for those big dogs that are on the hunt? Well, you're gonna hafta hire yourself a true netrunner--one that's been in the game a lot more recent than I. Puddle skippin' ain't gonna cut it for what you need done. Now, you interested in letting me pay your kindness back with twenty-four hours of watching your six, well, that I can do. Hell! I might be able to hook you up with a real netrunner if I dig hard enough"

Preacher was still talking about the net in ways that boggled Spiff. Spiff knew his way around 2 things when it came to computers. He knew how to use his phone, and he knew how to use the card catalogue at the library. "Now I'm gonna ask this as a guy who knows what you're worth, and a man who knows how much cash is in your pocket." Spiff took a deep breath and looked Preacher square in the eyes. "What's it gonna take to get you on board?"

When Spiff made his point by dropping his phone, his eyes didn't leave those of Preacher. He could see the subtle widening of eyelids, the sharp intake of air. He knew his point had hit home in a very real way. He certainly wasn't capable of doing with electronics what these 'techie' types were, but he knew they practically worshiped machines, and Preacher just proved that to Spiff on yet another occasion.

The nail in the coffin so-to-speak was Preacher's dead giveaway. He showed his cards quite obviously to Spiff by saying "Let me think on it a bit." He was in, and Jason knew it.

The next conversation, however, didn't go as well as Spiff had hoped. Scribe motioned towards the dingy cab interior and smiled a winning smile. “Nope. Not gonna reveal that secret just yet, Spiff. Besides, I’m groggy-tired, and I might screw up the story enough to send you in circles for hours. Be patient, gato and we’ll take care of that upload when we’ve a little sleep behind us.”

It caught Spiff off-guard. It was like playing poker with an amature, and then sitting down with a pro. He was unable to turn his senses onto that level in time, and simply took the cab ride quietly.

****

Spiff waited for Preacher to speak in the hotel room that evening. He knew it was coming, and he had only been mulling over his own words.

“All right, Gato,” Preacher said as Spiff took care of his Mark II. The solo had dropped his own bag on the scarred table and had his back turned to the fixer as he slowly removed his armored clothing. “Here’s the just of it straight as straight can be. I’m beat up—passable, but beat up none-the-less. Truth of the matter is that I won’t be nearly as effective even with the medical care you’ve been so kind as to pay for. There weren’t no fronts, no lies, bein’ told back at the hospital, despite what you think. I made a vow some time ago not to set foot in the Net again, and that’s why this cowboy plays with guns. Now, I’m not much good at neither in my current shape, but as much as I’d like nothin’ more than to drop down on that bed and hope to God that Biotechnica catches up to me before I wake up and my pain meds wear off, I’m in this as deep as you—deeper maybe, since I was with the original crew."

“I guess what I’m sayin’ is that you’ve got my skills, as they stand, though I still figure they ain’t much compared to what we’re facin’. If you’ve got cash-money, I’d suggest you let me try and hook you up with a netrunner you can trust, who is up to speed on the latest tech. I can jack in, but I don’t know how pretty it’d be, and I don’t have the—“ he paused for a moment and drew in a steadying breath. “—The crew with me that I was used t’ runnin’ with, so it’d be a whole different experience than what I’m used to. Still, I’ll do what’s necessary to stay alive, and pinching the nerve of a megacorp is just a bit of icing on that cake.”

Spiff dropped onto the bed for a moment, his hands behind his head, a smile washing over his face as he responded to Preacher. "I'm glad you're in. I need you more than you think. But now I'm going to tell you something I don't say out on the streets, and I definitely don't say in front of medias." He sat up and looked at Preacher. "Most of my operation is show. Those guns I had with me tonight were mercs, and I'm rather glad I didn't have to pay them. I don't want you for the net. Hell, I don't even really want you as a hired gun. I want you for info." Spiff paused, letting the words sink in. "I don't trust easily, but you've proven yourself worthy of trust. I do not, however, trust your judgement enough yet to be takin' gatos off the street at your suggestion."

"Furthermore, I think you misunderstand what I'm asking of you. Yes, there's a possibility that I'll need you to jack in, though I hope that's not the case. Mostly, I just don't have time to be coverin' my tracks, and even on the 'internet'--" Spiff spat the word out as if the taste disgusted him "--you're better than anyone I got. In other words, there's probably not a netrunner out there that could compete with the numbers the megacorp could hire. That task is impossible, even if they're better than you. However, you know where to go, and where not to go. You know what to buy, and how to buy it. You know how to avoid leaving a trail to begin with, and, on the VERY rare occasion that there's a hint of a trail out there, you're more than capable of covering that up. That's what I need you for Preacher. I want you working closely with the rest of us to keep us under the radar, whatever that means."

The man's answer was silence, which was good enough for Spiff as he finished his night-time ritual.

***

Spiff watched Scribe work his magic, with a few approving nods. The guy was good, there was no doubt, but Spiff was sure he was better. Still, five-hundred for that kind of work on such short notice wasn't something to ignore. Scribe had a read on this guy, and that said a lot more about Scribe's character than anything else he'd done so far.

When they started moving through the mallplex, Spiff started getting advice from Preacher, the first bit of which was "Am I gonna need a new phone now? A new number?" His mind was on that major net interfacing they had done the evening before, and he was concerned that that forum post would be traced back to him. Then, he asked about hitting ATMs, and using his credchip. He ultimately bought a new pair of jeans (preferably with non-obvious armor if possible) and restocked his bag with another dry-clean-in-a-can. Then, he hit an ATM and withdrew more cash (replenishing his 500 if Preacher feels ATMs are of little concern, or withdrawing a larger amount of there is a large concern. Preacher may have told him these purchases would leave a trail, but he had to make them, and a mallplex is hardly like buying a hotel-room. Everyone bought here, and the megacorp couldn't station guards here 24/7. ((let me know on the cash stats Brom))

The trip to the Red Lantern, like the one before it, was not quiet, as Spiff had requested that Scribe make small talk. He had started with growing up in Night City, some obvious common ground. He was hoping that the conversations may eventually expand from there. When they arrived at the Red Lantern, Spiff immediately asked about his contact, Kara. If she was working, he would definitely make sure he'd be able to speak to her after the meeting. He knew she got a lot of top-notch clients. He was hoping she had heard some good rumors lately.

He hadn't even sat down when Croaker arrived, and he was flat-out shocked to see him. As Spiff should have expected, but he didn't, Croaker jumped in before Spiff could say anything. “Ok Spiff lets get one thing straight, talking for myself Peacekeeper and Bulls Eye, we will listen to what is said here and if its on the up and up we will work with you, but not for you. We talk everything out and everyone gets a say, but in the field I am in charge, behind the scenes and dealing with the mechanics of gear, contacts and so on I leave that to you and your fondness for BS. Make no mistake Spiff, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and the first time you order me, Peacekeeper, Bulls Eye or anyone else to do something that’s out of your area you can say goodbye. Do we have a deal?”

Spiff grinned, arms at his sides, and responded to Croaker with more than a simple yes or no. "I think you underestimate your importance. The answer's yes, but I need you to take a bigger role than that. All I'm here for, is to make sure you can do your job. I'll be happy to give suggestions, but I'm not an expert on how to strategize a war. That's what you all are here for. You're doing all the work, I'm just here to help you get what you need to do it. That doesn't mean I'm uncle Moneybags, but it does mean I won't leave you out in the cold if I can do anything to help. Gunning down Stallion's personal bodyguards for example..."

He wasn't shocked to see that Jack had gotten more people to join the cause, but he was surprised when they approached, as generally happens when running into someone you don't expect. “I’m MDK,” he announced, “I believe you are expecting me.”

((Is my crew there?))

“You ok Lover” Her hands moving to rub his tensed shoulders.

[I]“No” The Nomad replied without elaborating[/I]

“Talk to me”

[I]“I don’t trust Spiff, I don’t like the little weasel, and I think dealing with him is a mistake. He has yet to prove he is worth a s**t in a fire fight, yeah he’s got the gift of gab make no mistake, but he does not have the cajones to back it up.”[/I]

“Ok your right he left me and Guardian on the fire escape but so what I’m still here, if that’s the only reason for your feelings towards him then Lover that’s a problem. Look you and I are both professionals, good at what we do, but your letting your emotions get the best of you, why is that, because its ME Spiff left behind. Not Guardian or some other runner but me, Jaimy Hammond aka Peacekeeper, love of your life and soul mate, tell me I’m wrong Richard I dare you.”

[I]“Ok ok God**mn it your right it’s about you it has been from the minute I saw you walk into the meet with Jack. What did you think, I was happy to find out you’re the fragging famous Bounty Hunter Peacekeeper. Did you forget that I am wanted by quite a few big wigs and cops due to my ’family'. Jesus Christ Jaimy I always thought that one day someone would send her after me and I was not going to be good enough to take her. Now I come to find out it was you all along and frag I been sleeping with my worst fear.”[/I]

The last said with a pained sarcastic laugh and the accompanying release of pent up air; her hands to his face Jaimy turned him to look him directly in the eyes.

[I]“Richard I knew about those bounties but I would never have taken them for real as much as you love me I love you more. Yeah I led others to believe I was looking for you, even killed one or two rivals who took up the search for you and got too close. But trust me Lover as long as I’m alive I will do everything, use anyone, in my power to keep us both, and now Bulls Eye, safe the three of us are family and I won't forget that. But you have to stop thinking of me as Jaimy Hammond and start thinking of me as Peacekeeper or your worries over my safety will get me, you, Bulls Eye and anyone else with us dead. Also think about Frankie, even though I myself do not like him, he is still your friend and stayed that way even after we tried to kill him, ya at least owe him a sit down. Plus for the time being we need to trust Spring Heeled Jack, look you know now that I have worked for him before, and I trust him more then most. You say you love me ok fair enough and I love you too, but do you trust me”[/I]

The question seemed to hang in the air between them as if a living entity growing with every second of silence. Then without a word Richard bent down to kiss her hard, his arms pulling her close to him. Releasing her he stepped back, took a breath, and took another long look at Jaimy then with her following moved back into the room.

Peacekeeper listened soundlessly as she watched the love of her life begin giving orders that they would be moving out as soon as they could. She helped load up the guns to keep them out of sight, and quickly wrote a note to thank them for the hospitality offered during their stay.

A few minutes later with everything packed up and their ready weapons loaded and available for fast use they exited the Metalstrom as the crews Croaker had heard upon waking were still assembling the furniture, and cleaning up from the previous night’s activity. The storm was still in full swing, causing the group to hunch against the ferocity of it until they could reach a bus bunker. There they hailed a cab, and again at Firewind’s expense, they were carted over to the Red Lantern.

RED LANTERN:


It didn’t take them long to spot Spiff, Scribe, Guardian, and Preacher. Informing the hostess of their pending meeting, they quickly found themselves seated around the table, the previous night’s hostility towards one another not forgotten. The tension in the air was so thick it could be shot with a gun. At such a thought she allowed her hand to fall to her hip where she concealed one of her weapons.

[i]“Ok Spiff lets get one thing straight, talking for myself Peacekeeper and Bulls Eye, we will listen to what is said here and if its on the up and up we will work with you, but not for you. We talk everything out and everyone gets a say, but in the field I am in charge, behind the scenes and dealing with the mechanics of gear, contacts and so on I leave that to you and your fondness for BS. Make no mistake Spiff, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and the first time you order me, Peacekeeper, Bulls Eye or anyone else to do something that’s out of your area you can say goodbye. Do we have a deal?”[/i]

It was at that moment when Peacekeeper’s cell phone rang. She flipped it open and answered it.

[i]“You still with that nomad output o’ yours, Lass?”[/i] The voice was Springed-Heel Jack’s she could pick it out anywhere.

“Yes you know I am, we're all here at the Lantern waiting on you.”

[i]“Tell ‘im t’ expec’ some ‘elp in the form of a tall Asian fellow named MDK. I’ll upload target information t’ yer phone in a minute.”[/i] Then the line went dead she hung up the phone and received the target information the same time the door opened up and the tall Asian and his companion arrived.

Spiff grinned, arms at his sides, and responded to Croaker with more than a simple yes or no "I think you underestimate your importance. The answer's yes, but I need you to take a bigger role than that. All I'm here for, is to make sure you can do your job. I'll be happy to give suggestions, but I'm not an expert on how to strategize a war. That's what you all are here for. You're doing all the work, I'm just here to help you get what you need to do it. That doesn't mean I'm uncle Moneybags, but it does mean I won't leave you out in the cold if I can do anything to help. Gunning down Stallion's personal bodyguards for example..." he had just managed to finish his reply when MDK had introduced himself to the posse who sat at the table.

Mae showed no fear as he walked right up to the table where the group was gathered. He stopped in front of them and looked at each one in turn as if sizing them up. When his gaze paused on Peacekeeper he gave her a little nod but his face betrayed no other sign of emotion. He ended his appraisal on the Nomad, the one his intel said was called Croaker. He looked him over for a good 10 seconds then nodded to him.

Peacekeeper watched the man enter and kept her gaze upon both men. When Mae nodded in her direction she returned the friendly gesture but remained silent. Studying the body language as she was always taught when strangers came to join them.

“I’m MDK,” he announced, “I believe you are expecting me.”

Jaimy smiled gently, almost easily as she nodded and spoke "Good evening MDK, yes we were just informed of your arrival." she was making casual conversation as she always did. Watching his body language as carefully as she could without drawing attention to herself.

Mae didn’t ask what the job was, or any other details for he knew that he would be told so why waste time asking now. He didn’t sit down or ask to sit, for until he knew the situation he would rather stay mobile if the need arose. He was ready for action but his outward appearance appeared relaxed though if these people were as good as he had heard they would be fooled by appearances.

Peacekeeper noticed the man hadn't taken a seat as most did when they joined a group. A quick glance around the Red Lantern showed a couple curious glances gazing their way, but she wasn't worried. She had taken note that he remained standing but that he surely wasn't completely relaxed, his muscles seemed a little tense, but she turned her gaze to her lover.

[Backposting]

The night at nameless motel (or naturally it had a name, but it was one of those motels one could fit 13 into a dozen - nothing about it to make it stand out from the masses), went as nights in such places usually did - nothing happened. Scribe had snored through most of the night keeping Guardian awake. Not that he would've slept even if the media hadn't been making the noise. During an assignment the big bodyguard rarely slept - or slept the way most people were accustomed to. As his employer enjoyed whatever dream he was seeing, Guardian sat on his bed eyes closed, with the pillow behind his back and the katana on his lap. He was completely relaxed and resting, but very much aware at the same time. Learning to sleep while awake had taken a very long time, but it had saved his behind a few times.

The job had started off with more action and violence than a regular job usually did. Then again keeping DigitalScribe safe and sound more often than not meant exactly that - keeping him in one piece and alive. The media had a peculiar habit of getting into trouble when he was after a big scoop, but as far as Guardian knew that was quite normal on Scribe's line of work. People rarely wanted the public to know about their private issues or shady deals. And in Night City, when someone wanted another to keep his mouth shut, that someone usually shut the mouth in question up in a direct and bloody manner.

In the morning the next address on their list was no big surprise to Frank. The bald bodyguard had been to NH Mallplex more than once with DS. It was a place of pure ice if one was looking flashiest outfits and gear of the moment, but it was also fairly safe for handling "sensitive" issues. No gang or hitman wanted to get into a fight in such a public place. CCTV was everywhere and numerous the guards carried live ammo and there always seemed to be a patrol or two of the city's pride enjoying their daily dosage of caffeine and doughnuts.

J.D. was one of Frankie's numerous contacts and one of his favorites, if Guardian's memory didn't betray him. The two were like competing brothers or cousins in a love and hate relation. Ebertech, the coder's company had a good reputation and its software was favored by many braindancers. Another group of people the old-fashioned bodyguard didn't always completely understand. Frank didn't mind going to the Mallplex or visiting J.D. at Ebertech, but usually he preferred to keep a low profile and stay of the limelight. That wasn't really possible when guarding public figures and being seen was of course necessary to gain a little more fame in order to get the better paying jobs.

So as they walked through the shiny halls of the Plex, Frank was a bit surprised to see them heading away from the business tower and into the clothing area. For sure it probably had been agreed on at some point earlier, but he must have missed it. Chastising himself for not been as alert as he should've, the big man followed his current boss into Action Jackets. While the others where busy getting themselves dressed up, Guardian kept a watchful eye at the surroundings while grabbing a couple of needed items for himself. With his big frame, there weren't too many options, but fortunately he wasn't the only "man" sized person in the business. Still Action Jackets had the ultimate solution for people of different builds. The digitally controlled tailoring module made sure that no one could blame the store for not having items that fit them. And gladly not all of the clothes had neon lights, swirling colors or rolling vids in them. Action Jackets also dressed people who didn't want to be seen.

After the quick stop at the action man's wardrobe the group made their way where Guardian had originally expected them to go - the business tower. Scribe did his bit and talked them in. Holo-Harriet (it wasn't the hologram's name for sure, but Frank had picked it up from somewhere) would not let anyone in without an invitation from inside. And while to anyone not knowing about the strange relationship between the two, the media's request to J.D. might have sounded like something that would certainly earn a rejection, it just made Guardian chuckle quietly. But it was the code-wizard's answer that really made the big man smile.

At first Guardian was about to ask from Scribe if they all would really be going inside to meet J.D., but he quickly decided against it. If Frankie would've wanted the rest of them to stay outside, he would've said so. Maybe the troupe made his current story seem more believable or something. Whatever the reason, it didn't really matter to Guardian. He did prefer to stick tight to his client at all times. It was the only way he could be sure anyone couldn't get too close and do something nasty which would cost him his pay.

It probably wasn't a completely unique scene they were causing inside Ebertech, but for sure more than a few heads turned their way as Scribe led them through the maze of cubicles and rooms to J.D.'s office. Preacher and Spiff were probably strange enough for the clerks and programmers, but Scribe's appearance was something most of the people probably were not used to seeing at work. And then there was Guardian himself... 6'4" and nearly 200 pounds of muscle dressed in black, the trimmed goatee and mustache, the stylish Mikuzis hiding his augmented eyes and kevlon/polylog Ruf and Gibson covering the rest of his frame. Unfortunately his usual red'n black Jackson had been ripped in the action on the previous day and Action Jacket's had only had Jacksons of his liking in silver. Since he never wore anything else, the all black was now a bit... less black, than usual - especially so in the bright lights of the office and the Mallplex.

Of course Guardian could have appeared even more dangerous or imposing had he been carrying his Arasaka Rapid Assault shotgun or Kendachi MonoKatana in the open. The New Harbor however was a clean and tidy area, if the construction sites and the Mall could be called such. Heavily armed people were not tolerated and even though he had the needed licenses to carry the things around (with the exception of the monoblade ofc), they might have caught too much attention for his liking from the security or NCPD. Instead, there was on his shoulder, the worn-out specially fitted sling bag with velcro holsters for the sword and the shotgun.

The "negotiations" were handled in the usual manner with Scribe coming out with less money lost than J.D. would've wanted. But that was how it always was and Frank knew both of the men were equally happy to do business despite the seemingly large difference in the starting price and the final one. And J.D. would be getting his piece of the cake in one way or another. Then soon enough they were in a cab again.


At the Red Lantern the group was united again at a lunch table. Before sitting down Guardian eyed through the people in the joint and once happy made up a quick excuse to visit the men's room to check it out as well. Satisfied with the safety of the place, he asked Spiff to move on the other side of Scribe in order to get the seat with his back towards a wall and as wide as possible a view at the entrance and the other customers. The exchange between Croaker and Spiff was over by the time the bodyguard sat pushed his seat back and sat down, but he could see from their faces that something had happened. With a question mark written on his face, he cast a look at DS, who dismissed the silent question with a shrug. Nodding, Frank leaned down casually as if to tie the laces of his shoes and opened his bag... just in case.

Right after Peacekeeper received and ended a phone call, two strangers walked in. Immediately, Guardian smelled trouble. The two didn't appear hostile, but the tall asian's way of walking woke up the martial artist inside him. Frank wasn't the most capable man when it came to unarmed combat, but his Aikido training along with the Tae Kwon Do chip had often helped him come clean from a brawl. The man, who introduced himself as MDK, was certainly dangerous. But apparently Jack had hired the man to give them a hand... or a foot. The thought almost made Frank chuckle again, but this was a more serious situation than the one at Holo-Harriet, so he pushed the thought away from his mind and nodded slightly in greeting instead. The other new guy was no fighter, that much was obvious and the two made an odd pair, but from the way they moved while approaching the table, it was obvious to Guardian's skilled mind that the two were acquainted.

---

OOC: Please forgive any mistakes in the post. I didn't have time to check it out.

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:05pm
“I’m MDK,” he announced, “I believe you are expecting me.”

"Good afternoon MDK, yes we were just informed of your arrival,” Jaimy smiled gently, almost easily as she nodded and spoke.

Preacher had eyeballed the fellow from the moment that he’d entered the building. For the practiced eye—for a player in the game—it was obvious that this fellow was dangerous. He wasn’t the type that blended well, just like Preacher. His stance was bold, his movement was fluid, and his expression was ice. It obviously wasn’t the same with Preacher; no, he stood out in the Night City crowd because of his cowboy attire. Of course, that was a style he’d chosen to keep the wolves from sniffing him out as an ex-netrunner. He’d made a lot of enemies in that lifetime…a lot. Now, as he sat in the restaurant with a group of people that didn’t care much for each other, charged to protect one of the main antagonists from the individual who’d originally offered him the job, he folded his arms across his chest, mindful of the slight pain derived from his chest wound, and slid his right hand underneath his trench coat lapel where he gripped the handle of his Magnum. Resting in a SpeedHolster, he was ready to spring to action as he watched every move the man and his companion made from behind his mirrorshades, and beneath the brim of his holy, gray cowboy hat. When the introductions were made, Preacher remained at ready, doing nothing more than tilting his head slightly in recognition of the added help.

Firewind was a little more than relieved at the appearance of the added muscle, though the second fellow didn’t look too much like a gunman. The Islander’s tattooed face broke into a weary smile as he sank back into his seat and breathed a little easier. Maybe they had a chance after all: everyone had shown up for the meet, Spiff and Croaker had come to some sort of terms, and Jack had sent them help.

“Have a seat, Mr. MDK,” Scribe made nice as the host since it would appear all of the guns were more prone to just sit and stare at each other. “We’re about to order some food, and make some reports before deciding on our next course of action. Introductions all around: I’m DigitalScribe, this here is Guardian, currently hired on as my bodyguard—I tend to like to stay in one piece. That’s Spiff; he’s got the connections, if you know what I mean, and that’s his shield, Preacher there looking like he’s ready to ride bull. Smiles over there is Firewind, our medtech, and the lotus there is Peacekeeper. Our intrepid leader is Croaker at the head of the table, and his brother Bull's Eye. We know you’re MDK, but who’s this fellow?”

(OOC: assuming introductions continue, and that MDK and Lightning take a seat.)

The waitress came around then, taking down everyone’s orders and making her way back to the kitchen leaving the group in relative solitude. The nearest occupied table was some twenty meters away and contained an old couple who were obviously avoiding eye contact with the edgerunners in an effort to remain in their quiet little world. It was then that Peacekeeper’s cell phone vibrated in her hand indicating that the location of their target had been downloaded.

Opening the message the bounty hunter realized that she was looking at a satellite image of the mountains east of Night City. There was a two-lane road leading out to it, and passing it by. The terrain looked to be scrub pine and mountainous with the facility barely showing up on the satellite due to the coloration of that building materials. There also appeared to be a security gate, and a fence surrounding the facility. The distance from Night City was 10.2 miles. The additional message stated simply: Working on getting blueprints of the facility. Will provide those upon success.

“OK, so here’s the scoop,” Scribe began as he watched Peacekeeper’s face for some sign of what she was looking at. “I’ve taken the footage I took of last night’s altercation and put it in the hands of a braindance wizard. He’s going to help us pin that little mess on the big dog by placing them at the scene instead of us. Should be done later today, and it wasn’t cheap, so a thank you is appreciated. Once we have that, I’ve got a source that I can ‘leak’ the footage to with reference to our vague knowledge of the designer drug. This will, hopefully, bring enough unwanted attention on the operators in charge of that little program that we’ll have some breathing room.” The media spread his hands wide, a smug smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, his TechHair remaining perfectly styled.

“Now, what’s our next move?”

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:10pm

“Have a seat, Mr. MDK,” Scribe made nice as the host since it would appear all of the guns were more prone to just sit and stare at each other. “We’re about to order some food, and make some reports before deciding on our next course of action. Introductions all around: I’m DigitalScribe, this here is Guardian, currently hired on as my bodyguard—I tend to like to stay in one piece. That’s Spiff; he’s got the connections, if you know what I mean, and that’s his shield, Preacher there looking like he’s ready to ride bull. Smiles over there is Firewind, our medtech, and the lotus there is Peacekeeper. Our intrepid leader is Croaker at the head of the table, and his brother Bull's Eye. We know you’re MDK, but who’s this fellow?”

When Scribe had made the introductions her eyes followed each as they were introduced and she herself caught the gaze of both men giving each a nod as she was introduced. In that moment she recognized MDK and she averted her gaze towards the rest of their surroundings to assure nobody's attention was on their little meeting. The bounty hunter knew nothing however of the man at his side.

The waitress came around then, taking down everyone’s orders and making her way back to the kitchen leaving the group in relative solitude. The nearest occupied table was some twenty meters away and contained an old couple who were obviously avoiding eye contact with the edgerunners in an effort to remain in their quiet little world. It was then that Peacekeeper’s cell phone vibrated in her hand indicating that the location of their target had been downloaded.

Opening the message the bounty hunter realized that she was looking at a satellite image of the mountains east of Night City. There was a two-lane road leading out to it, and passing it by. The terrain looked to be scrub pine and mountainous with the facility barely showing up on the satellite due to the coloration of that building materials. There also appeared to be a security gate, and a fence surrounding the facility. The distance from Night City was 10.2 miles. The additional message stated simply: Working on getting blueprints of the facility. Will provide those upon success.

After reading the message her gaze fell upon her lover and she forced a smile, yet her mind was elsewhere. A two-lane road was the only way in or out of the mountains, and it would surely be difficult to figure out how to get passed the security gate.

“OK, so here’s the scoop,” Scribe began as he watched Peacekeeper’s face for some sign of what she was looking at. “I’ve taken the footage I took of last night’s altercation and put it in the hands of a braindance wizard. He’s going to help us pin that little mess on the big dog by placing them at the scene instead of us. Should be done later today, and it wasn’t cheap, so a thank you is appreciated. Once we have that, I’ve got a source that I can ‘leak’ the footage to with reference to our vague knowledge of the designer drug. This will, hopefully, bring enough unwanted attention on the operators in charge of that little program that we’ll have some breathing room.” The media spread his hands wide, a smug smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, his TechHair remaining perfectly styled.

“Now, what’s our next move?”

In this moment Peacekeeper drew everyones attention. Her face seemed to reveal nothing of why she desired their attention, only that she would speak whether they listened or not. After putting her phone away she spoke "I've got a location. There's only a two-lane road that leads to our location, and there is 10 of us. It would be much too suspicious if all of us climbed into one vehicle to get there. It's just over 10 miles from the city. There is a lot of coverage by pine and mountains, but I think if we can devise a plan we could find a way to overcome the security gate." she shrugged slightly and her gaze sought each in turn searching for their reply and reactions. Jaimy delivered the location, now they had to come up with a plan to get past security, and to get inside to finish the rest of the plan. After a short pause she added "I should be getting blue prints shortly, if all goes well" she fell silent and sipped at her drink.

Peacekeeper knew MDK's background, but she didn't trust their him or his companion. Jaimy knew that MDK would recognize her from years ago from the bounty's she was able to collect from some of his targets. As a bounty hunter herself, she knew that when somebody claimed your target, you vowed to kill them for taking your target. She was ready for him to strike her down at every moment, but was smart enough to now show her uneasiness.

"Good afternoon MDK, yes we were just informed of your arrival,” Jaimy smiled gently, almost easily as she nodded and spoke.
Mae nodded to Peacekeepers acknowledgement of them being informed of his joining the group. His eyes scanned the others in the party noting they all seemed dangerous and capable.

“Have a seat, Mr. MDK,” Scribe made nice as the host since it would appear all of the guns were more prone to just sit and stare at each other. “We’re about to order some food, and make some reports before deciding on our next course of action. Introductions all around: I’m DigitalScribe, this here is Guardian, currently hired on as my bodyguard—I tend to like to stay in one piece. That’s Spiff; he’s got the connections, if you know what I mean, and that’s his shield, Preacher there looking like he’s ready to ride bull. Smiles over there is Firewind, our medtech, and the lotus there is Peacekeeper. Our intrepid leader is Croaker at the head of the table, and his brother Bull's Eye. We know you’re MDK, but who’s this fellow?”
Mae looked at each of the people as he was introduced to them… Guardian.. He had heard the name of course, a very popular and successful bodyguard.. The word was that if you had the money there was no better bodyguard; he nodded slightly to him.

He nodded to each of the others, Preacher, Spiff, Firewind, Croaker, and Bull’s Eye; he didn’t recognize any of them though his first impression was they all seemed quite capable of handling themselves in a scrap.

Peacekeeper he had definitely heard of before; he seemed to recall that she had brought down a few of his mark’s in the past before he got to them. He didn’t think much of it now, but back then he would have gladly put a bullet in her brainpan just out of courtesy. He knew better than to think just because she was a woman she was any less dangerous than the others. From what he currently knew of these people, she would be the one he would consider the most deadly and therefore the one to watch.

When Digital Scribe asked about Lightning, he smirked a little and gestured with his head to him.

“His name is Lightning, he’s a Techie,“ he said by way of introduction. “I was told to round up any help I could find,” his smirk grew slightly, “the best I could do on such short notice.” He left the rest of Lightning’s intro to him.

Mae sat down in an open chair, flinging the right side of his coat back so his gun was ready at hand if anything went down. His left side not far from his weapon. He still didn’t know these people and as of yet he didn’t trust them. It was a job, and he knew from experience that sometimes things went wrong and people turned on you for the oddest reasons, mostly that was money.

He listened to Scribe talk about ‘last night’s altercation’ he knew nothing of it but filed away the information for later; he never knew what might come in handy.

“Now, what’s our next move?”

In this moment Peacekeeper drew everyones attention. Her face seemed to reveal nothing of why she desired their attention, only that she would speak whether they listened or not. After putting her phone away she spoke "I've got a location. There's only a two-lane road that leads to our location, and there is 10 of us. It would be much too suspicious if all of us climbed into one vehicle to get there. It's just over 10 miles from the city. There is a lot of coverage by pine and mountains, but I think if we can devise a plan we could find a way to overcome the security gate." she shrugged slightly and her gaze sought each in turn searching for their reply and reactions. Jaimy delivered the location, now they had to come up with a plan to get past security, and to get inside to finish the rest of the plan. After a short pause she added "I should be getting blue prints shortly, if all goes well" she fell silent and sipped at her drink.
As she spoke he ran the details through his mind, memorizing them. He reached up with his left hand and removed his dark shades as he thought, revealing his solid silver orbs, and tucked the shades inside his coat. Turning to the group he asked a question he thought important for him at least.

“Who is in charge here?” He had been told he would be meeting a guy named Croaker and figured he would be the leader. So far he had heard mostly from Digital Scribe and Peacekeeper while the man identified as Croaker remained silent. He pondered this and waited on an answer wondering if maybe Croaker was just a figurehead, a boss who let his people plan the jobs and then take all the credit for the success. Only time would tell.

The Red Lantern– Upper East Side – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 5:40am
Croaker after his initial words to Spiff had remained for the most part quiet surprised at the Fixer’s reaction to the Nomads words. What had happened to the raving lunatic from the hospital had Jack had a ‘talk’ with him? No matter the reason it gave Croaker hope that he and Spiff could work together long enough to get them all out of this mess.

By some careful positioning Croaker had placed himself at the head of the table which put his back to the wall behind him and left him facing the Red Lantern’s entrance.
Watching as Peacekeeper took Jack’s call about the two new team members Croaker was looking straight at the Lantern’s entrance as the two made their arrival known.

At once what had been a relaxed caution went to full blown red alert, his right hand having stayed below the table in his pocket, moved slightly and integrated the Smart Linked SMG to Croaker’s cybernetic hardware. The Nomad knew the first of the two men to enter his name MDK. The man was a hired killer, an assassin a hitman call him what you wanted the man was dangerous and way out of the price range for this job.

He was a high priced personality rumored to be working for the corps and anyone who could meet his price tag. It had even been rumored at one time that he had been hired by Sharon Maxwell, the Director of Housing Development, to track and kill Croaker after he spurned her romantic overture having already been in love with Jaimy. As nothing had come of it Croaker had considered it just that a rumor but now here he was right in front of the Nomad seemingly sent by Jack, Croakers thumb fingered and released the MPK’s safety. A quick locking of the eyes with Bulls Eye, an old signal of trouble passed between the two, Croaker hoped his Brother would remember it and be ready to back his move if it became needed. Knowing Peacekeeper and her rep he also hoped she would feel his tension and know something was perhaps wrong and be on alert.

“I’m MDK I believe you are expecting me.”

"Good afternoon MDK, yes we were just informed of your arrival,” Peacekeeper smiled gently, almost easily as she nodded and spoke.

“Have a seat, Mr. MDK,” Scribe spoke after Jaimy “We’re about to order some food, and make some reports before deciding on our next course of action. Introductions all around: I’m DigitalScribe, this here is Guardian, currently hired on as my bodyguard—I tend to like to stay in one piece. That’s Spiff; he’s got the connections, if you know what I mean, and that’s his shield, Preacher there looking like he’s ready to ride bull. Smiles over there is Firewind, our medtech, and the lotus there is Peacekeeper. Our intrepid leader is Croaker at the head of the table, and his brother Bull's Eye. We know you’re MDK, but who’s this fellow?”

“His name is Lightning, he’s a Techie, “ MDK said by way of introduction. “I was told to round up any help I could find,” his smirk grew slightly sarcastic it seemed to Croaker, “The best I could do on such short notice.”

OK, so here’s the scoop” Scribe began as he watched Peacekeeper’s face for some sign of what she was looking at. “I’ve taken the footage I took of last night’s altercation and put it in the hands of a braindance wizard. He’s going to help us pin that little mess on the big dog by placing them at the scene instead of us. Should be done later today, and it wasn’t cheap, so a thank you is appreciated. Once we have that, I’ve got a source that I can ‘leak’ the footage to with reference to our vague knowledge of the designer drug. This will, hopefully, bring enough unwanted attention on the operators in charge of that little program that we’ll have some breathing room. Now, what’s our next move?”

Before anyone else could answer Scribe, Peacekeeper drew everyone’s attention. Her face set in stone, her professional persona revealed nothing only that it was time for all to listen up and to pay attention to her.

"I've got a location. There's only a two-lane road that leads to our location, and there is 10 of us. It would be much too suspicious if all of us climbed into one vehicle to get there. It's just over 10 miles from the city. There is a lot of coverage by pine and mountains, but I think if we can devise a plan we could find a way to overcome the security gate.”
After a short pause she added
"I should be getting blue prints shortly, if all goes well"
She fell silent and sipped at her drink waiting for the rest to speak but it was MDK who spoke first.

“Who is in charge here?”

“Well that depends on who you ask” The large Nomad stated in a calm yet very icy voice, his finger on the MPK’s trigger, “But I’m Croaker and like Scribe said, for the moment I am.”

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:12pm

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:12pm
“Well that depends on who you ask” The large Nomad stated in a calm yet very icy voice, his finger on the MPK’s trigger, “But I’m Croaker and like Scribe said, for the moment I am.”
Mae’s silver orbs locked onto Croaker as he spoke, a faint smile came to his lips and he nodded slightly.

“Good enough,” he said, “just wanting to know who the boss is here.”

The large solo sat back in his chair seeming to relax a bit, but his right hand never left his side only inches away from his Smart linked .44 Automag. He hadn’t failed to notice the Nomad’s right hand was beneath the table, no doubt holding a gun of some sort ready to use it if needed. In the silence that followed Croaker’s statement, Mae thought he could hear the faint sound of a safety switch being flipped.

He had also noticed the Nomad’s brief glance towards the one called Bull’s Eye, a warning glance perhaps. It seemed for some reason Croaker didn’t trust him, fair enough he thought. He couldn’t blame him since he was an unknown factor here and no doubt a dangerous one too.

He kept the faint smile on his lips as he raised his left hand slowly and signaled the waitress over to the table and ordered a drink.

“Glenmorangie… Neat!”

He returned his left hand to the table top and sat waiting on his drink and waited to hear the plan. He would wait till those in charge laid out what they thought and if he heard anything he could add then he would put in his opinion, otherwise he remained silent as the grave.

The Red Lantern – East Marina – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 12:12pm

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OOC: Edited the name of your whisky. Sorry about that. Couldn't resist. Good whisky that, though I've only had the chance to taste the original and prefer the Islay whiskies over the Highland ones.