Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – Saturday, March 14th, 2020, 12:08am
MDK smiled slightly behind his mask as his rounds took out the one guard, but his celebration was short lived when two additional guards, probably the ones he had seen go around the corner, came back guns blazing. He staggered when the heavier caliber bullets slammed into his body; it hurt but his armor was keeping him from sustaining a fatal hit, so far.

He was glad when shots from behind him took out one of the other guards and adjusted his targeting as he continued to run full speed at them rapidly closing the distance. He targeted the two new arrivals with his optics and once locked on let loose with his automag going for the head as usual, it was the least armored of most people.

As MDK was firing at them he yells out loudly as he closes on them sticking to the left side of the hallway. and just before reaching the closest one targeting on him the most, he drops to his knees sliding on them towards the little hallway he sees on his left. This maneuver serves two purposes: one it makes him a smaller target this close to the men, and it opens up more of a lane of firing from those behind him. He know at least one person is back there firing and he hopes others have also followed him as he needs all the help he can get at this point.

He will slide into this small hallway, using the edge of the wall to provide cover as he continues to fire at the closest (Gunman 2) if he is still up and attacking, or firing at the other attacker (gunman 1) if not.

Guardian followed Frankie and the suit into the stairwell. He'd noticed the other suit wasn't going to come with them immediately and took the only possible position where he could protect DS from both directions. Of course he couldn't be totally aware of both suits all the time, so he had to settle with putting his large frame between a possible threat and his client in order to give even some sort of protection.

The bodyguard wasn't happy with the situation, but it seemed like the only way out of the problem they were getting into pretty fast. Of course the solution might still (and probably would) to another situation where the life of his employer would be very much under threat. Casting looks at both of the strangers, Guardian quickly settled on the fact that the one behind him was not going to draw and fire at them. He'd already had plenty of time for that.

Perhaps the one that stayed behind was going to create a diversion, perhaps not. All the big man could now do was follow DS and the suit with a working mouth to the stairs. He would've taken the offer as well, for even if it had been an ambush it still would've meant taking on an unknown party instead of the Mallplex Sec. Always a better option for Frank liked to visit the Plex every now and then, and that could be pretty hard after having gunned down a couple of its guards.

As he stepped through the doorway and out of site of the security (though most probably not CCTV), Guardian silently drew his Armalite hiding it immediately inside his flowing jacket. Whatever the suit had in mind, he wasn't going to take it on without being prepared. It was immediately apparent, that if the suit was going to flatline them, it wouldn't happen in the staircase for the man quietly followed Scribe to the exit... Which was naturally locked. Would've been too easy,wouldn't it?, Guardian thought with his eyes still on the suit.

The story they were fed sounded a bit too obvious, but perhaps it was so obviously made up that it was actually true. But the truth was that there was no way of knowing and that there wasn't enough time to find out there and then either. Basically DS and him had only two choices: either they killed the suit and tried to escape the Plex Sec on their own, or they listened to what the man had to say and accepted his offer to help them out of the dead end.

Guardian shrugged slightly to Frankie's question while still looking at the suit. "It's not as if we've really got a choice, is it? Isn't it like they say - An enemy of my enemy is my friend? Not that we really have an enemy and not that I'd ever call any Corp a friend."

I16 Southbound – North Oak – Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 4:58am
Kremlin’s laughter filled the cabin and only subsided as he wheezed a few coughs through, again waving his bodyguards off as though annoying insects. “You wish to gamble? You wish for us to provide you with sniper? For how long, Mr. Spiff? What guarantee that sniper will live? What guarantee that sniper will not be pinched?” The fat man’s piggy eyes narrowed to a point where they were practically swallowed by his cheeks. “What guarantee you have that I work you in some way you can manage?”

Spiff's smile was unwavering, almost sadistic in nature. "It seems we're both taking a gamble then."

Kremlin chuckled again, obviously amused by this play. After a couple of seconds he shook his massive head in a slow, but deliberate way. “You have balls, Mr. Spiff. But the Organization cannot afford to be contracted into something as public as…say, assassinating mayor, or district attorney. So I must know. What is it that shooter be shooting?”

I16 Southbound – North Oak – Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 4:58am

---

New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 6:42pm
“Guardian?” Scribe could read faces, he could even read body language fairly well, but this guy wasn’t reading. So, the media was relying on his bodyguard’s experience to make the call.

Guardian shrugged slightly to Frankie's question while still looking at the suit. "It's not as if we've really got a choice, is it? Isn't it like they say - An enemy of my enemy is my friend? Not that we really have an enemy and not that I'd ever call any Corp a friend."

“They don’t have to be called a friend so long as they aren’t shooting at us,” Scribe agreed with a nod and looked back at the suit. “All right, Choomba. Your move.”

The man smiled disarmingly and turned to the door. Taking out a small, sleek-looking box made of black high-gloss plastic, he quickly strung a single wire from the bottom to the base of the keycard box where it attached with what appeared to be a magnet. The man then pressed a nearly undetectable button on the surface of the box and there was a quick spark of blue from the keycard swipe before the slight buzz of the door being unlocked was heard. Frankie vowed to get one of those boxes someday.

The corporate moved through the door and quickly stepped aside to allow the others through. They were in a short hall leading out to the main foyer of the mallplex, and they could see the mass of shoppers and layabouts before them without problem. The trio stepped lively and made their way into the crowd, but it wasn’t over for them.

Guardian spotted them first: the four security officers in their black uniforms making their way across the floor towards them. There was about thirty meters between the guards and the three of them, but in that space there was quite the throng of people. If he had to estimate, Guardian would say that it would slow the guard’s movement by about a quarter speed. The problem was that the three of them were about fifty meters from the nearest street exit, and had just as many people to get through in order to get free.

This wasn’t stopping the corporate, however.

“Here,” the man said suddenly while turning and offering Guardian and Scribe both a small, clear plastic packet containing soft foam earplugs. “Put these in.”

Scribe raised his eyebrows, (OOC: assuming Guardian tells them of the guards) but after a quick glance in the direction his bodyguard had indicated, the media slipped them out of the packet and began to place them in his ears, the PIP view of his camera now watching the guard’s progress as they pressed on.

(OOC: again, assuming Guardian follows suite.)

Once all three of them had the earplugs in place, everything went to hell. The first indication that something was up came when the pressure against their inner ears began to build, but it stopped there for them. The mass of people congregating in the foyer weren’t so lucky. The wave of audio that struck their ears disrupted the continuity of the liquid in their inner ear. Within a second or two of the pressure build up people were puking to the left and right of them. There was screaming, moaning, flailing about, and falling to their knees. In his PIP screen, Scribe saw that first of the guards buckle and heave almost immediately followed by his companions. Meanwhile, Guardian picked up a different view as the corporate suit began to run quickly towards the exit where a man in another suit and trench coat stood with a large suitcase-like device at his feet that had the yellow and black caution symbol all about its edge and a flashing red light. There was also what appeared to be speakers lining the exterior, though they were nicely integrated into the design.

(OOC: assuming you follow.)

Passing the third corporate suit, Scribe glanced up at his stony face, but received no response. The man was watching the crowd with sole purpose, the hand hanging at his side held a handgun the likes of which Scribe had never seen before. Then, they were out on the street and the doors closed behind them. The corporate that was their guide indicated for them to remove the earplugs by removing his own.

“You wished to walk, Mr. Tordesky?” he said with a smile, standing in the rain, his coat swept about his expensive pant legs as he motioned down the street. The weather was definitely worse than when they’d ditched the car just a short time ago. “Or…” There was a black, four door sedan parked at the curb, and as the corporate pointed to it, the man from inside stepped through the door and made his way to the trunk, opening it and placing the suitcase device inside the sleek tan interior.

Frankie glanced at Guardian and shrugged. He was all for maintaining their original plan, but these fellows had already shown a certain amount of ingenuity, and they knew him by his real name, not his moniker, so there wasn’t much difference that walking would do. They had a car with tinted windows, and the media had no idea if there was a man waiting inside with a gun or not, but if they were on the street and that car swept by, it could kill them just as easily as if they entered the vehicle. And, they’d be out of the rain to boot, so after shrugging, Scribe stepped towards the car.

“You’re a convincing fellow Mr…?” Frankie said as dryly as he could considering the wet all around them.

“My name is Javier Heming, Mr. Tordesky. And thank you.”

The interior of Javier’s car was by no means shabby. It was done up in synthleather, tan, with wood paneling. There wasn’t room enough for there to be two bench seats, and Guardian took the outside passenger seat while Mr. Heming took the outside rear seat on the driver’s side leaving Scribe in the middle. The fellow who’d just replaced the device in the trunk stepped up to the passenger’s side front and slipped into the seat. The driver was another fellow in a suit, only this time he also wore one of those limo driver hats.

“If you two gentlemen will indulge me a little, I think it’s high time we got dried off and enjoyed a warm meal.” Javier Heming leaned forward to look both of his guests in the face and smiled a pleasant smile. “You are interested in a warm meal, are you not?”

“I’m interested in knowing how we can be of assistance to you, Javier,” Frankie said guardedly.

Javier nodded slowly and pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. “I’ve a long standing business practice, Frankie. I don’t discuss business on an empty stomach. However—“ he raised his hands to stall any objection as Scribe’s mouth had already opened ready to spill forth a snappy retort. “—However, I will set your mind at ease by saying this: We’re not after you, per se, but rather what you’re after, and we’re interested in helping obtain the objective.

“Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’d prefer to listen to some quiet music for a time and share this fantastic brandy with two gentlemen of taste.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to us,” Scribe said wryly, though he didn’t object as Javier selected a tumbler from the back of the driver’s seat as well as a travel-sized decanter of brandy and poured him and Guardian a glass.

The drive took them further downtown, and eventually underneath one of the many high-rises there. The underground parking facility was heavily guarded, though by the insignia on their uniforms, Guardian and Scribe both knew these were contract workers: Militech security detail. To Scribe, that said a lot as most foreign marketers went with Arasaka. Whomever Javier worked for was a local Red, White, and Blue.

They accompanied Javier and his bodyguard up through the elevator, and Scribe wasn’t surprised when they hit the button to take them to the penthouse suites levels. The room that they entered into upon arriving at their floor was extravagant, well lit, and provided a sweeping view of the storm clouds. A caramel glass table was waiting for them in the center of the room with a three person place setting and a serving girl stood nearby wearing a very, very short black leather skirt and a white blouse with a very low neckline. She was extremely pretty, of the modeling variety, with long blonde hair touched with red streaks.

As they seated themselves, she made her way about the table filling the three glasses with red wine before removing herself in pursuit of their meal.

“I trust you’ve no objection to steak,” Javier said as he unfolded his napkin and draped it across his lap. “I’ve a French chef on retainer and he’s prepared a very delicious meal for us tonight. Only the best when establishing a new relationship, I say.”

Scribe raised his eyebrows and gave an appreciative nod. He wasn’t swayed by all of the finery, but he was appreciative of the man’s obvious wealth. “Who’d you say you work for again, Javier?”

“I didn’t, Frankie,” Javier smiled warmly and took a sip of his wine, savoring it for a moment before swallowing. “My organization is not important, and you’ll understand why it has to remain anonymous, I’m sure. I’d appreciate it if we could eat before digging into the details further.”

“OK.”

The meal was very delicious, consisting of real meat, vegetables, potatoes, and gravy. There was also a nice round of salads, stuffed mushrooms, and breadsticks followed up by a delicious chocolate pie. The wine was refilled any time a glass was emptied, and the whole while classical music played softly in the background. At the end of the meal, Javier motioned them into a cozy den off of the dining room while the beautiful servant cleared away the dishes. Here, he produced actual Cuban cigars, offering one to both men, and whether they lit up or not, he stood near the mantle with a smoking cigar in hand enjoying its aroma.

DigitalScribe refused the cigar and sat in the comfortable leather chair waiting Javier’s whim. After what seemed like a good five minutes of silent enjoyment of his cigar, the corporate breathed out heavily and smiled softly at his two guests.

“Thank you for your patience. As I’ve mentioned, the organization I work for is interested in obtaining the formula for the drug you’ve discovered Biotechnica is testing. Quite simply, we want to refine it, and market it correctly. You’ve seen that Biotechnica has botched the work already…well, I can guarantee that we won’t.”

“Why don’t you just go in and take it, Corporation to Corporation. And don’t tell me you guys don’t do that sort of thing,” Scribe said. His camera had been stowed away in the car at Javier’s request, so now he was interviewing for the sake of covering their bases more than the story.

“We could,” Javier continued to smile. “But you are already in process. As a matter-of-fact, the last report I received was that your friends have begun their approach on the Biotechnica facility.”

Frankie glanced at Guardian with worry in his eyes. These guys had surveillance on Croaker and his team!

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. How do you think we knew where to pick you up at?” Javier chuckled. “We were watching the apartment building that you people hit, and have been keeping an eye on you the whole time since.”

“Why’d you allow Biotechnica’s hit team to chase us through the streets if we’re valuable enough to wine and dine?” Scribe asked, doing his best to remain casual in appearance.

“We had to determine if you had a chance.”

“A test? Were those your men?”

“Hardly.”

Frankie considered what he’d heard and then shook his head slowly. “You son of a bitch. You don’t want to be fingered as having anything to do with this by Biotechnica, so you’re playing it out through us.”

Javier’s grin widened and he pointed a finger at Scribe while still holding his cigar in the same hand. “Now you’re getting it.”

“No deal,” Frankie shook his head. “We appreciate the meal, and the chance to be out of the rain, Javier, but we’re no corporation’s lapdog, and we’re sure as hell not taking a dangerous, killing drug out of the hands of one corporation just to put it in the hands of another.”

“We’re not going to market it to the public, and we’re most certainly not going to market it in its current form,” Javier remained calmly at the mantelpiece. “You’ve not a lot of options before you, Mr. Tordesky. Look, this is a major decision. You’ve got to be the one to make it as your friends are a little engaged at the moment, and that fellow Springed-Heel Jack doesn’t necessarily need to be a part of this. This is a private deal for you and your man here. Money is not the object either.

“I’m willing to offer one hundred thousand apiece upon delivery. This is a lot to think about, so I’m not looking for an immediate answer. Why don’t the two of you enjoy the atmosphere for a while and I’ll leave you alone to talk it over. Just give a shout when you’ve made up your mind.”

Frankie was about to object, but Javier gave him another of his disarming smiles before striding past them and out of the room.

“One hundred thousand…”Scribe sat back in his chair. “Croaker and his friends don’t get into any more trouble than they’re already in…we get paid…the drug hits the market anyway, just through a different channel…”

New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:51pm

---

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
Peering around the corner of the hall, Firewind took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He was in a corporate facility in a firefight, with reinforcements pending for the other side, and no way that he knew of out of the situation. They were dead. That’s all there was to it. They were all dead.

“No use waiting,” Freeway said as he came up on Firewind’s elbow. “Reinforcements will be coming through that door one way or another, and I’d rather we make sure they have no room to maneuver than not. So, stay here.”

Before Firewind could response, the nomad was darting down the hall back towards the elevators and the door to the stairs. The medtech swore under his breath as the man closed the distance between the corner and the stairs in record time, swung the door open, and disappeared into the stairwell.

“Great,” the medtech moaned to Lightning as he kept his eyes tightly locked on the other end of the hallway, the submachine gun held firmly in his hands. “He’s dead.” It was hopefully not a prophetic statement, but the medtech could only assume as upstairs meant two more floors of possible guards. “How’re they doing?” He asked, motioning with his head back the direction of the gunfire so that Lightning would understand he wanted the techie to check on the scene at the other end of the hall.

MDK’s yell echoed above the rapid fire of the weapons. The assassin was flying down the hall. Dropping to his knees, he arched his back a little to give him balance. His target was further down the hall, peering out of a door maybe four meters from where MDK hoped to end his slide. His Automag recoiled again, and again, leaving the man’s head a cloud of fiery dust as he slumped to the floor.

Peacekeeper swore as MDK cut in front of her, but as soon as he dropped to his knees she had a clear shot again. She’d passed where Bull’s Eye had gone down and was hot on MDK’s heels. Unfortunately, having to recalibrate slightly after the assassin’s maneuver, she lost her opportunity as the target ducked back around the corner. Slowing, she kept the weapon level and waited. A second later the man reappeared and there was an exchange of bullets.

Peacekeeper smiled as she watched the man at the end of the hall fall backward, a hole in his forehead. Then her breath caught in her lungs and she felt bubbles rise up in her throat. Gasping she looked in alarm down at her leather clad body to discover that her armor had been penetrated at the chest. It was with that realization that she knew she’d been killed. There was no pain; just the realization that her lung had been pierced and she was dying. Blackness overcame her and her legs fell out from beneath her.

Peacekeeper fell to the floor dead just as Lightning reached the corner and peered around it. There was but one of their party left in the hall, and MDK had completed his move by sliding right up against the leg of the dead guard in the hall—the guard Peacekeeper had first put down. Now the assassin had his shoulder up against the corner, and the claxon of the alarm was the only sound.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am

---

Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:26am
There was a lull of about a minute during which time Croaker struggled fruitlessly against his bindings. Then the nurse arrived once more, silent and with an expressionless face. She approached the I.V. at the nomad’s bedside and took the tube feeding painkillers into the man’s arm in hand.

Croaker’s eyes narrowed as she lifted a needle and penetrated the tube. The liquid in the syringe was a black hue with a slightly red tinge to it when the light caught it. The nurse said nothing further as she pressed the back of the syringe and fed the tube full of the swirling cloud of black. The drip being ran into Croaker’s bloodstream carried the substance quickly down the length of the tube until it vanished into the bruised flesh around the catheter. Croaker’s eyes widened. He knew what was being done and he was helpless to do anything about it. Mr. Ackerman had no more use for him.

Within seconds, Richard Tallon’s body started to convulse and his eyes rolled up into the back of the sockets, but there was no one in the room to see it. The nurse had left, and by the time the door had clicked shut, Croaker was dead.

Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:27am

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
MDK slide to a stop kneeling next to the dead guardsman in the mouth of the short hallway on his left. Since all the visible guards had gone down, he used this opportunity to do a tactical reload of his Automag using the hallway as cover. He drew out a full mag and dropped the partial mag in his hand and then slammed the fresh mag into the gun all with the same hand. Tucking the partial mag away in case he needed it later; one never knew when every last bullet would be needed.

As he did that he turned his head to glance back and check on the location of Peacekeeper and Bullseye; the grin on his face beneath the mask faded as he looked just in time to see Peacekeeper fall dead to the floor. He had caught a look at her face and seen the blood bursting between her lips just before her face hit the floor hard; he had seen enough death to know she was dead before she hit the floor.

Glancing further up the hallway he saw Bullseye leaning against a wall; he looked dead and right now he didn’t have the time to check. He spotted Lightning peering out from the far corner and he quickly considered their options. Making a sudden decision he waved to Lightning in a ‘get-back’ gesture.

“GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” He yelled to him, “WHILE YOU STILL CAN!”

If you can, he thought! By now the alarms had alerted the entire base, but if they got back to the upper levels maybe Jack’s Net runner could work a miracle and get them out of here. At least some of them might live through this night; Mae didn’t think he would be one of those but he wasn’t going to go out easy.

He turned back to the body he was kneeling next to and search it and take any weapons or ammo. He was hoping that these guys might carry some kind of explosive device. He prayed for some grenades, what he wouldn’t give for a few frag grenades.

As he searched the body and took whatever he found, he kept and eye and ear on the corner where he had been heading. If nothing had come around corner by the time he was done, he would get to his feet and then rush the corner ready to blast anything that came around it. He intended to reach the corner and then look around it and down the long hallway ready to instantly engage anyone he saw.

Peacekeeper was dead but he had set out to help her get her man back and he was still going to try. If he didn’t then the woman’s death would mean nothing. He had admired tenacity and willingness to die for what she believed in. Mae had risked his life for money, but never had he risked it for an ideal or a person. He wondered what that was like.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am

Lightning had been watching the back when he was asked to look around the corner. What he had seen had not surprised him with the noise but he had hoped that someone other then MDK would be on their feet. MDK gave him the gesture to fall back that had been used on a previous job they had worked on together which hadn’t gone well so he knew this one had little if any hope. He wasn’t a coward but there were a few of them left and they might stand a chance of escape if they were careful not that he held out much hope but the others left might. He said a silent farewell to the one person he had ever thought he might consider a true friend and turned and told what he had seen.
“MDK is the only one left alive over there he thinks we should try to escape and that kind of makes me think that he is going to try to hold them back as long as he can still move.”
Whatever the group decided he would go along with. If they decided to make this a we try to keep going he would try as hard as he could if it was decided to try to escape he would try to get as many of them out as possible. He had seen enough death in his time to go along with it. This was as good a day to die as any and at least he would go down fighting and in good company if he did.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am

New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 10:51pm
The decision had been made. Frankie knew that Guardian would go along with whatever he’d decide, and eventually, the money and a way to finalize this fiasco resulted in Scribe accepting Javier’s offer upon his return. What resulted at that point was the pair being loaded up in an AV-4 and airlifted into the storm with Javier back in his trench coat and glasses as well as four additional soldiers. Scribe wasn’t allowed to put his camera back on, but that didn’t keep him from mentally keeping notes on everything that was happening.

The ride was more than a little bumpy with the winds buffeting the boxy vessel and the rain sweeping the windows, but when four more AVs joined the flight, Frankie glanced over at Guardian with a slight smile on his handsome face.

“I thought the whole idea was to keep you folks off Biotechnica’s radar,” Scribe chuckled as a particularly heavy updraft jolted the AV with force.

Javier returned the smile, “We just won’t be on any of the cameras. You’ll have to collect the data, but our little distraction will hopefully keep their security detail involved.”

“Fair enough,” Scribe took a deep breath and returned to peering out the window as the mountains sped by beneath them.

The compound swept up on them without warning. The pilot announced their arrival and the AV’s began their sweep, noseguns blaring. The buildings received the brunt of the assault, but the outside patrols weren’t neglected. Within all too short a time, the AV that Scribe, Guardian, and Javier settled in the compound with a huge flare of evaporating rain and a number of small tornados.

“Good luck, gentlemen,” Javier said as the side door swept open, one of the black-garbed soldiers manning the mounted railgun as the front door to building swept open and Biotechnica guards began to present themselves. The railgun made short work of them, its high-powered rounds tearing apart the doorway and the men in one wicked sweep.

DigitalScribe looked to Guardian for the lead…after all, he was the fighting man.

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10pm

---

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:08am
There was a momentary lapse in gunfire resonated almost as loudly as the alarms in Firewind’s ears.

“GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” MDK’s unfamiliar voice called out, “WHILE YOU STILL CAN!”

Risking glancing over his shoulder, the medtech caught Lightning coming back down the hall towards him. “MDK is the only one left alive over there he thinks we should try to escape and that kind of makes me think that he is going to try to hold them back as long as he can still move.”

“Damn!” Firewind had liked Peacekeeper, and he hated leaving anyone behind. “What about Croaker?”

Lightning kept moving, rounding the corner with his weapon ready, and drawing Firewind with him. There was no answer concerning Croaker, and the medtech didn’t like the odds of two non-combatants rushing through a heavily guarded facility, but he followed nonetheless. His mind was reeling. This was exactly how he’d expected it to go down, so he was confused as to why he wasn’t accepting it.

Reaching the stair door, the islander kept the elevator room covered as Lightning opened the door Freeway had escaped through. Certain that the elevators weren’t in motion, Keahi turned and followed the techie through to the stairs.
The first flight was empty, but as they rounded the landing ready to make their way up the second, they were startled by the sight of four corporate guard bodies lying in pools of their own blood, and the booted footprint made from blood indicating the passage of someone heading up.

“Freeway,” Keahi breathed. The nomad had made it this far at least. That left them with another two flights of stairs to reach the main floor. The medtech hoped that should they find anymore guards along the way they were in the same condition.

MDK turned back from the corner as soon as Lightning vanished from sight, and went about searching the guard over with his left hand while keeping his weapon ready in his right. He was disappointed in finding no grenades, and the handguns were inferior to his own. The only thing of value that he found was a keycard, and seeing how these guards were suits he could safely figure they had higher access levels than the standard security types.

Rolling away from the corpse, MDK rose to his feet and began to dart down the hall, weapons ready. He might’ve passed it by had he not taken the motion that he did and rolled out of the alcove. The room number of the room where they’d dropped the third guard was the room where Croaker was supposedly located.

It was an abrupt change in momentum that took MDK’s right shoulder and put it into the doorframe. His electrothermal .44 pointed into the room, the Arasaka handgun down the hall towards the corner, Mae quickly took in the empty room. There wasn’t even a bed in the room, just emptiness.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:09am

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:09am
Mae was disappointed at not finding any explosives, he sure could have used them if he ran into more trouble, which he was sure to before this was over. He did pocket the security card, never know when that might come in handy getting out of this place.

Rolling out of the alcove to create a low fast-moving target, he came to his feet and was advancing towards the corner when he happened to glance at the door next to the third dead guardsman and saw it the number of the door, 12b. He changed direction quickly slamming his shoulder into the doorframe hard.

He peered into the room keeping his .44 automag into the room as he covered the hallway with the Arasaka handgun he had picked up. Empty? It shouldn’t be! Croaker wasn’t here. Had they moved him, or had he never been here to begin with. Maybe the Netrunner had been wrong, or maybe the info in the computer was false, on purpose maybe.

He cursed then looked towards the corner ahead and then glanced back the way he had come. He didn’t know where Croaker was, and to continue on without that knowledge, he might just be wasting time. Looking again at Peacekeeper’s lifeless form and Bullseye leaning against the wall, he made up his mind quickly.

With a last look at the corner ahead, he moved back to where Bullseye was and covering the corner he checked to see if he was alive. If he was alive, Mae would tuck the Arasaka into his belt and heft the man up onto his shoulder and then head out of here as fast as he could the Automag in his right hand. If the man was dead, he would take off at a run back out following the way the others should have gone.

He was praying for a miracle that they would get out of here, he was silently cursing the loss of life they had incurred in a failed attempt to rescue Croaker. Peacekeeper, Bullseye, and who knew who else might die before this night was over. He hated losing and right now he knew they had lost, he only hoped he lived to get over it.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:09am
(Edited to clarify that he did take the security card off the dead suit)

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – Saturday, March 14th, 2020, 12:09am

Lightning was moving down the hallway with the others trying to get out of the building. They weren’t really running away he thought since he was sure that if they made it out they would return one day to take their revenge. He couldn’t help but miss the people he had seen this day and he knew since everyone else had known longer he had a feeling they would join in a plot to take revenge for the fall of their comrades that was the type of people they were he thought in his eyes.
Lighting was moving while keeping watch for the bad guys. He knew they didn’t have much chance but hey he had noticed these people had a habit of combating the impossible and making their own way. He only hoped that MDK could hold out against whomever for as long as he could after all them coming at them from one way was bad but from both was death he thought.
Lightning continued on the trying to make it out with the others and trying to watch for bad guys since if any came from behind they would signal the fall of MDK and that he had done his best and had passed from this world and left Lightning with almost no almost trustworthy people.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – Saturday, March 14th, 2020, 12:10am

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10pm
Guardian led the rush from the AV-4 to the front door of the building while all about them gunfire sounded like smaller cousins to the thunder of the storm raging overhead. Scribe moved on his heels as they’d done so many times before, his adrenaline racing. Both men had weapons in hand, and as they reached the doorway to the facility Guardian stopped his momentum with the wall as he peered past the bodies laid to waste by the minigun and scanned the interior. DigitalScribe took the opposite side, though he wasn’t sure of what he’d be able to contribute he was fairly certain that he’d be of more use than Javier whom he was surprised to see arrive just behind him.

“What are you doing?” Frankie breathed, intently motioning back towards the AV-4 as though telling the corporate to return to the relative safety of aerodyne.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Javier grinned back, producing a .45 handgun from his trench coat and giving Scribe a wink. “I thought not. Don’t worry, though. I do. Just get me there.”

Guardian was finished surveying the room beyond, and with a nod to Scribe, he ducked inside.

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10pm

---

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:09am
The sound of Lightning’s booted feet behind him was something of a comfort for Firewind. It wasn’t that he felt the Techie was a solid combatant ready to spare them death at the hands of the Biotechnica corporate guards, it was just the nature of Man to appreciate sharing a bad situation with someone. And a bad situation was what they’d found themselves in from the moment they’d signed on for this gig.

Reaching the ground floor, the medtech paused and took a deep breath, trying his best to peer through the small window without putting his face in open view of what lay beyond. The hall beyond carried the sound of gunfire to their ears, muffled and definitely somewhat distant, but still very much apparent.

Glancing back at the techie with him, Firewind raised his eyebrows, crinkling the tattoos across his forehead.

“On three?” Keahi whispered and motioned to the door while gripping the handle. When Lightning indicated he was ready Firewind swung the door wide and stepped out into the hall.

It was empty.

Letting out the breath he was holding, Firewind proceeded cautiously forward, retracing the steps they’d taken to get to the stairs and eventually peering around the corner of the hall leading back to the guard’s room where MDK had knocked that guard unconscious and the room they’d first entered through.

It was then that MDK slipped through the door in their wake and looked upon their backs. The gunfire was much more prominent, and the assassin could easily recognize the difference between submachine gun fire and a heavy caliber, fully automatic machine gun. There was no sign of any enemy, and it didn’t appear that the medtech, or techie, had noticed his arrival.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am

---

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am
MDK was surprised as he made his way back up to the main floor without any sign of guards. When he came out of the stairwell and saw Firewind and Lightning ahead of him he slowed so as to not startle them. Listening he heard the automatic gunfire outside, large caliber fire; miniguns perhaps.

“Well boys,” he said softly as he came up to them and stopped, “sounds like help may have finally arrived.”

He gestured for one of them to keep an eye on their rear as he stepped into the entrance and then over to the doorway outside and using the doorframe as covered he peered out to see what was going on outside. He saw the circling AV-4s and hoped they were on their side. In any case, they would provide for a distraction that might just get them out of here.

MDK turned to Firewind and Lightning and motioned them over to the doorway, as he did his eye happened to catch sight of one of the security cameras. Suddenly he remembered the netrunner and gestured to the camera and then his eye; he hoped the runner was still online and could relay information to his marquee display in his optics so he could let them know what was going on.

(OOC: Dont know if he could see the AV-4 on the ground from there.)

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am

Kremlin chuckled again, obviously amused by this play. After a couple of seconds he shook his massive head in a slow, but deliberate way. “You have balls, Mr. Spiff. But the Organization cannot afford to be contracted into something as public as…say, assassinating mayor, or district attorney. So I must know. What is it that shooter be shooting?”

It would be nice to say that Spiff was unsure here, but the truth was, he understood the whole of it, from top to bottom, beginning to end, front to back, and everything in between. Kremlin was playing dumb. They both knew why he was hiring the shooter. The whole deal had just been explained. Spiff was basically at war with a megacorp. This, of course, was much more public than killing a mayor. So why did Kremlin ask that question? The answer would be obvious to anyone who sat in the car looking at Kremlin's face.

The two of them had been keeping it light. When it came down to it, Kremlin was trying to outdo Spiff. It was a brilliant play, and a man like Jason had to admire it. Sit in the background the whole night, and watch the man talk down someone. Learn his quirks, his traits. Figure him out, and then challenge him in the same type of duel, one of words.

Spiff had a few options. He could continue the light-hearted banter, his favorite option by far. He could get gruff and straight to business, something that would surely upset Kremlin. Or he could try and shoot his way out of the limo. To say the least, his decision was made for him.

Spiff had an opportunity here. Kremlin had shown a flaw in his skills. He had given Jason an opening. It was a big one, and Spiff was ready to throw it in his face. Spiff's smile faded.

Spiff put down his glass and leaned in toward Kremlin, giving the illusion that he wanted to speak a bit quieter to avoid the bodyguards. It was a small movement, but a big play on Spiff's part. It would make his next sentence even more effective at drawing out certain emotions in his target. The sentence, though, the words that left his mouth would leave the real mark.

"What makes you think your shooter's that good?" a cruel, knowing smile ran across Spiff's face. The words could easily be taken as a joke, and Spiff intended to keep that illusion, but the lean in was what would make it a very real question for Kremlin. Jealousy or laughter? The game continued.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am

Lightning couldn’t believe it. MDK was alive how did that happen hadn’t he been fighting to cover their rear against people behind them. He was good but Lightning didn’t think he was that good. If he was alive then Lightning felt even more sorry for the rest of the group his closest thing to a friend had survived while their’s had all died.

He also couldn’t get over the fact that if MDK was right that gunfire was on their side. He was hoping MDK was right otherwise that was the gunfire of two corporations going at it and they were stuck in the middle. He was hoping for some sign before they went out there only to find out they were even more dead since they were now stuck between two corporations.

"MDK I thought you died covering our backs. Did something happen that allowed you to turn the tide or are they coming up behind us?” Lighting said in surprise.

Lightning noticed him signaling to the camera. The netrunner might have the info if it was two corporations fighting or if they really were saved.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am

I16 Southbound – North Oak – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 4:58am
"What makes you think your shooter's that good?" a cruel, knowing smile ran across Spiff's face.

Kremlin burst out in his belly laughter once more; the mirth filling the cabin like liquid. When he’d wheezed to a stop it was some seconds later, and the effort of the laughter had forced tears from his eyes. Wiping away the salty cheer he did his best to resettle himself comfortably and tugged at his jacket to relieve some of the stress on his shoulders.

“OK, Mr. Spiff,” the fat man forced out through his thick lips. “A shooter then you shall have—what makes me think he that good? Ha! We return to the ship, and I send man to fetch shooter. You meet him, and then you give him instructions. Then you see how good he is.”

(OOC: open for additional conversation if so desired.)

Shaking his head slightly, Kremlin turned his gaze to the cityscape as they sped between the first of the skyscrapers downtown Night City had to offer. He was obviously caught up in his own thoughts as he’d chuckle every once in a while between sips of his vodka. The others in the cabin were just as want to flash a toothy grin at Spiff when they caught his attention, but it was difficult for the fixer to determine if they were sharing their boss’ laughter, or if they were wolves.

Eventually the freighter came into view once more and the rolling seas were lit up by the flash of lightning revealing that the storm was still raging, and intent on continuing for an undetermined amount of time. The group’s umbrellas offered little protection against the windswept torrents, and the gangplank up to the painted causeways was slippery forcing them to move slowly up it lest one of them (namely the overweight Kremlin) find himself going for a swim. Eventually, they were shaking the water from their jackets and settling into the relative warmth of the smoke-filled, shipboard crew’s lounge.

“Mikhail,” Kremlin breathed heavily as he settled into the chair where Spiff had first met him. A sallow-faced man of average build who’d remained in the ship when they’d left stood up.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Go fetch Kolchak. Bring him to me.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Mr. Spiff,” Kremlin motioned to a chair at the table. “Please sit. We play game of durak and order in.”

The bodyguards who’d accompanied them on the ride took their respective seats while another fellow—a blonde-haired fellow with a thick jaw and a pale blue eye that didn’t match his hazel-colored left eye—pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. The man spoke in Russian so Spiff couldn’t understand what he was saying, and the call only took a minute or two, but the fixer had a hard time paying attention to the inflections in the conversation due to Kremlin’s loud instructions on how to play the popular Russian card game.

(OOC: Saturday, 14th, 6:30am)

The food that was brought consisted of large slices of toast, heavily buttered with a very sweet berry jam, omelets, and pancakes provided on actual plates and served up with large, steaming mugs of coffee. They continued to play durak throughout the meal, andKremlin made sure that all conversation was light and avoided business. Eventually, the large blonde fellow’s phone rang and again he spoke in Russian as he received the call. He reported something to Kremlin and then slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“Your shooter, Mr. Spiff,” Kremlin said as he studied his cards. “He is on his way now.”

(OOC: Saturday, 14th, 7:20am)

The man that entered the room was best described as breezy. He was no more than five foot eight, had wispy blonde hair that draped his thin face, pale blue eyes, and obvious interface jacks Frankenstein style on his neck. He wore a black, knit turtleneck sweater underneath a heavy black leather jacket, and covered his head with a black knit cap of a low thread count. He wore navy blue cargo pants, the kind that might be found in the Russian navy, and scuffed, and worn black combat boots. As he entered, he removed his black synth-leather gloves revealing his left hand to be covered in high-gloss gold finish.

“Mr. Spiff,” Kremlin intoned distractedly as he made his play. “Meet Kolchak, your shooter, yes?”

Kolchak’s face was still wet from his travels and his pale gaze was wide-eyed, yet somehow still disinterested as they fell upon the fixer.

“You tell him now what he is to do for you,” Kremlin chuckled as he took the hand. “I take a nap now.”

Whether it was due to a genuine disinterest in Spiff’s business, or as safety precaution, Kremlin struggled to his feet and huffed his way from the room, his two bodyguards following. This left Spiff alone with the phone-toting mafiaso and Kolchak.

Kremlin’s Freighter– Docks – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 7:20am

---

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am
The layout of the facility Guardian, Scribe, and Javier found themselves in wasn’t being relayed to them through Times Square Marquee. They had to find their way through it, and that mean wrong turns, encounters with more corporate guards, personnel, and whatever else Biotechnica had to offer. Guardian knew full well that if this were the building containing the drug the security would be high, and Scribe was just as aware.

The first room had been a lobby, open and wide with gray tiled floor and large bullet-proof glass walls. There was a semi-circle desk that bore a gray marble surface in a double-layered manner at the far end, and two doors on either side of the desk. These doors both had retinal scan security boxes as well as keycard swipes, and behind the desk were two security guards.

Guardian was quick to action, slinging himself forward and leveling his .44 as he ran. Two shots later and both of the security personnel were drained of their lives. Frankie moved in on his bodyguard’s heels and Javier stepped in, closing the door behind them.

The media noted the security cameras in the two corners of the room and immediately determined that their coverage was of the entire room combined. There was nothing to it. They’d definitely be on the cameras now.

“You don’t have someone running interference for us, do you?” Scribe asked as he jogged quickly to the blood-spattered desk and rounded the side.

“If you mean a netrunner, I do actually,” Javier’s voice was calm and quiet, barely detected above the sound of the continued gunfire from outside. The corporate was looking through the glass walls to the halls beyond, the same as Guardian.

“Can he pop these doors for us?” DigitalScribe was already dismissing the computers since they were locked down with encryption and password protection, and had turned his focus to searching the first guard for his keycard.

“He’s working on it,” Javier made his way casually over to the desk and leaned against it with one arm propping him up.

“Can he go any faster?” Scribe mumbled as he pulled the guard’s Image Wallet from his pocket and palmed the card from within. “And while he’s at it, can he tell us where the drug it?”

“We’d already determined that there was no actual indication of the drug by any particular naming convention on their servers—“

“Already determined?” Frankie moved over to the door with Guardian stepping up to advance through it once it opened. “If you’d already determined this then why the hell are we here?”

Javier smiled disarmingly and Frankie had to admire his moxy. This fellow was cool right to the core. “This doesn’t mean that we didn’t find the source. We just need access to one of the computers on the right network and I can download the formula. A working sample would be nice for reverse engineering purposes, but the formula will suffice.”

The door buzzed and all of the telltale lights turned green.

“Fantastic,” Scribe muttered as Guardian swung it wide and swept inside the adjoining corridor, weapon ready. “And where can we find one of these computers?”

“I believe the Biotechnica computer geeks referred to it as the ‘Inner Sanctum’. It shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Scribe followed after the imposing black man after he’d motioned it clear, Javier close behind him. The media wasn’t too thrilled about the relationship here, but it had been the most promising method for survival even above and beyond that which they’d worked out with Croaker, so here he was.

The corridor was bland in décor, done up in a cement and modern edge design. Once they’d made their way across twenty meters the lobby’s glass walls were left behind and they were surrounded by pocked cement.

That’s when the trouble hit in the form of two security bots. They were the height of medium-sized dogs, bipedal with smooth, spider-like, bulbous bodies upon which were mounted single, turreted guns. The heads of these devices were an array of sensors and cameras, and they moved fairly quickly, rounding the corner ahead and immediately swiveling their weapons on the trio.

But Guardian was quicker, again, due to his speedware.

The loud report of his smartchipped .44 echoed in the man-made cave and the impact of the rounds burying themselves in the armor of the bots was equally striking. Sparks flew from the casing and the force of the blows caused the small robots to jerk about on their hydraulic limbs.

In nearly the same motion, Guardian moved to the left, since that was the position he’d last seen Scribe. The media wasn’t useless, and though he relied heavily on Frank to protect his skin, he wasn’t about to sit idly by and leave it all up to the man. It was one of the things that made their relationship so successful. He’d instinctively moved to the right, which put him opposite the direction Guardian had gone to cover him. However, this opened up the hall for his line of sight, and he plugged two rounds into the bots as well.

The first sparked further, its camera system completely destroyed by Scribe’s round. One leg flung out at a strange angle and the whole bot slid up against the wall where it lay twitching, its turreted gun disengaging its lock and pointing towards the floor. The other round wasn’t so effective, and the smudge mark it made against the bot’s glistening armor was barely noticeable.

This is when Javier came into play. He fired his Militech-made weapon just past Scribe’s shoulder, the ringing in the media’s ears testament to the killing power of the handgun. He was obviously of the mind to try and take out both of the bots as well, since his first round struck the bot Scribe had just disabled, but his second round did the trick, driving the remaining bot back a couple of steps to where it sank to the cement sputtering sparks and a little smoke.

There was no words spoken as they rushed past the disabled machines, their weapons covering the devices in passing, and then Guardian reached the corner. The corridor ended with two doors, one obviously an elevator, the other bearing a bronze nameplate and a keycard security lock.

“Any word from your netrunner on a particular direction?” Scribe asked as he peeked past the large, black-garbed bodyguard’s shoulder.

“No,” Javier shrugged. “Just have to find the Inner Sanctum.”

“Any ideas, Guardian?” Scribe asked.

They were in a building that didn’t have a second story, so that meant that the rest of the facility was underground. To Scribe’s way of thinking, the elevator would be their access, unless the door led to stairs. Then again, there was the other door out of the lobby that could lead to the remainder of the first floor…

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:12am

---

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am
“Well boys,” he said softly as he came up to them and stopped, “sounds like help may have finally arrived.”

Firewind nearly leapt out of his skin at MDK’s voice. As it was, the medtech spun about and raised the submachine gun to fire before catching himself. “You crazy sneaking up on us like that!?” But Keahi didn’t wait for an answer to that particular question, and Lightning cut MDK off before he could answer anyway.

"MDK I thought you died covering our backs. Did something happen that allowed you to turn the tide or are they coming up behind us?”

The assassin didn’t appear inclined to answer, his emotionless battle mask momentarily matching their questioning gazes before he stepped into the lobby and made his way quickly to the door, cracking it open and peering outside. After a second, he motioned the other two into the room and swiveled about to catch the camera’s angle and point at his eye.

Keahi frowned for a second before realizing that the man was likely looking for some direction from Jack’s netrunner, then the medtech crept from his hiding spot into the room as well and made his way to the front door, his heart racing.

Unfortunately, the netrunner was either not paying attention, or had left them to their own devices. No more instruction came over his Times Square Marquee, leaving them to figure out what was going on by themselves.

“You sure what’s going on out there is helping us?” Firewind asked as he peered through the small crack he’d made between the door and the frame by opening it a little.

The AV-4s were hovering a couple of hundred meters away: one at the southernmost building in the compound, and the other in a position to cover the building they were in and the building they’d been rescued from. The miniguns in the bellies and on the nose and aft were blazing away, expending hundreds of rounds in periodic displays of fiery eruptions. There were no Biotechnica soldiers to be seen from his vantge.

“What now?” Keahi closed the door again and checked the submachine gun. He did not like their position one bit.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am

Spiff had been on edge for hours. He knew that at any moment, any of these men could decide he was to die, and the jig would be up. He had taken this risk to make up for the incompetence that was so prevalent in his crew. He originally planned to lend the gun to Preacher, but he was able to get more out of the deal. It seemed he wasn't able to get the entire Russian mob behind him, but he hadn't really expected that.

The impressive thing was, he had managed to retain his independence. Now, he just needed to get out alive and set up a meeting to figure out how the group was going to get Biotechnica off its back. He had to start figuring out which numbers to call.

“You tell him now what he is to do for you,” It was Kremlin's voice. “I take a nap now.” The man got up and left the room.

To say Spiff was caught off-guard would be an understatement. He came out of his thoughts to view of a man with a golden hand, and Kremlin and his guards leaving. He knew his shooter was on the way, and he'd heard Kremlin's words, but it was just as likely that this man was here to kill Spiff.

Once again, Spiff's mind ran through his options. He was overstaying his welcome. He was sure of that. He had to get out of here, and he was exhausted anyhow. He'd be safer with Preacher around. The man had been resting the whole night. He would be capable of watching Spiff's back while he slept. Perhaps he'd sleep on the cab ride to the meeting place. What meeting place?--no, stop side-tracking. He needed to stay on target. There was a man standing in front of him with more than a little ability to take his life.

Spiff ejected the clip on the gun and tossed it to the man. He hadn't loaded it (which was made even more clear when the ejected clip was empty) so there wasn't any fear of being shot. The absurd move would be the toss. It wasn't that he didn't know the value of what he had just purchased. Instead, he wanted to give the impression that he was higher on the totem than he had let on so far.

((assuming the man catches the gun and gives it a good look over))

Spiff started speaking as the man looked over the gun. "So, Mister Kolchak, what is it you hate most on this little planet?"

((assuming anything other than Megacorps, Biotechnica, Talkative People, or Fixers))

"Good to know. I like to know the people who are working for me." Spiff stood up, gathered together his things and turned to the one man left in the room. "Well, I've overstayed my welcome. Thank you for your time and it was a pleasure doing business. Your shooter will know where to find you when the job is done if he's as good as you say he is. I will come with him then to keep my end of the bargain."

((Assuming Spiff's allowed to leave))

Spiff left the docks and went straight for his cab. The darn thing was still there. Reliable as ever, and running up a lovely fee. Still, Spiff knew what dangers that little cab meant. If Biotechnica could track him by his phone, they could certainly track him by his PCTD (Pocket Credit Transfer Device).

((I had said I had been paying with cash. I assume I haven't paid for the cab yet, so I am obviously going to run into problems if I don't have enough cash for the cab. The next bit of this post assumes I have enough cash to pay the cab, and the electronic cab takes cash. If I have already swiped card or something with the cab, then I would sooner blow it up than approach it, as I assume Biotechnica would know exactly where I am, so let me know if that's the case.))

Spiff sank into the cab and made room for the shooter. It was at this point that Spiff pulled out his phone again. He turned it on and scrolled through his contacts to find a number. He plugged Juan's number into his watch quickly and then shut it off. It occured to him that he would do better to keep his contacts on his watch in the future. That is, just in case this ever happened again. He went ahead and plugged in the other numbers he could remember from that evening. Peacekeeper's was stored and he'd have to call it soon. He'd have to call Dave again, so he plugged that in. Guardian was likely using a different phone for now, but Spiff marked down his number anyway.

Spiff used the cab ride as an opportunity to give the shooter a run-through of the mission. "The mark is Biotechnica. You should only have to take out the guards outside to get us in. Keep the outside clear and your job will be complete. There should be plenty of decent locations to position yourself. And with that thing and these" Spiff nodded at the rifle and held up one of the shells, "you shouldn't have much trouble." Spiff took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. It was very late. "Well, that's the intent at least. Who knows what kind of stupid things Croaker has done in the last twenty-four hours. Your mission may change as a result. Hopefully he's been resting. His crew's gonna have to be in top form for this job."

He directed the cab to drop him off a block away from the hotel where he'd left Preacher. (If it doesn't take cash, further away. If I don't have enough cash, stop at the ATM first, one near the one from before) He collected his things and walked the rest of the way back to the hotel.

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am

Lightning was thinking which was a issue in and of itself since it took him some time sometimes since he like to go over options. He wasn’t really thinking about the situation he would go with whatever everyone else decided including MDK. Who was what he was thinking about at the moment he was thinking about if MDK was a clone or maybe a robot but he had come up with the same answer to both those questions there hadn’t been time for them to do that to him so he must be real. Although the technology to do that in that amount of time made Lightning drool thinking about he didn't think things where there yet.

That brought up it’s own issues. If he was real then he was as screwed as them since they were all still alive. They had little ammo and not really any options to get any. There are AVs out in the yard just waiting to either save them or kill them. God only knows how many more people left in this compound. Lightning couldn’t help but be excited after all this was the best part of life.

“I will go with whatever matters not to me.”

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am