The Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building - 8th Floor | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 3:15 AM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.) Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“Unf***ing beliveable” A deep breath and the big solo looks to the rest. “I’ll try to hook up with him, let’s meet back at that small diner we hooked up before.”

“No,” Vegas shakes his head, “Casino, get the team to a safe place nearby. I’ll go get Ghlahn. Fixer believes that there’s a clock on this, so make it somewhere nearby and stay in radio contact.” Not waiting for confirmation, Vegas slaps his partner’s uninjured shoulder and turns to stride away leaving the remainder of the edgerunners waiting on Casino’s lead.

“Look,” Blossom remarks as though the information she’s sharing doesn’t really matter. “Fixer’s probs right. Many companies rig these boxes with tracing hardware in case some of their employees decide to make a few bucks selling surplus. So, we need to find someplace secure where I can jack in and do my full data transfer. Give me a quarter and I’ll make this pony dance.”

“Subway, maybe?” Echo steps up to the blonde solo so that their shoulders are touching. “We might be able to find a corner and give her some cover while she works. It’s close.”

His gaze fixed on Vegas’s back as his partner moved away, Casino had a sudden bad feeling in his gut that this would be the last time he saw his sinatra look-a-like friend and partner alive. Turning to the rest of the group he thought for a moment and spoke.

“Ok, Echo suggests the subway, however we are carrying too much stolen stuff to blend in. I say we find a sewer entrace some where out of sight and use the area below it as temp base till we reconnect with Vegas and Ghlahn. Or any better idea’s? Blossom you ok with a dark deep sewer squat?”

This is all assuming no one says no, or comes up with a better idea and that by jacking in, Blossom does not need a electrical socket. If an idea is put forth will edit post)

Leading off in a casual stroll, Echo on the group’s six, the big solo looked for and finally found down one garbage filled alley a sewer entrace. With Fixer’s help they quickly had the sewer lid pried open.

“Ok Blossom you, Echo and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become homeless and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.”

With the three named headed down Casino quickly found a few cardboard boxes and enough trash to create himself a ‘homeless hobble’. Pulling his duster close to cover his face and weapons he sat / laid down and began to watch the alley’s two entrances.........

Sewers Somewhere Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 3:45 AM PST  Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.) Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

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( Ok said nothing on what Nomad was doing up top with Fixer, as to leave the specifics to him.)

This job was turning out to be one never-ending party.  But at least the group generally seemed to know what they were doing - and listened to him when he knew what he was doing.  Which wasn't all the time, but he had his specialties.  And one of those was knowing he did not want to get caught with the stolen goods.  The group seemed to get this and got to work dealing with it.  

That was the good part.  The not-so-good part was the suggestion of the sewers as a place in which to do their magic.  Not that it was a bad suggestion, just not a pleasant one.  He'd have much preferred something a bit less aromatic.  But he might as well wish to go hang out in a mansion sipping martinis while Blossom worked.  A sewer was what was at hand and it would have to do.  He put action to his thoughts when Casino found the entrance and helped the man move the cover.  It didn't look appealing, but it should work.  He kept staring around in all directions as they worked looking for trouble.  

He was about to climb down when Casino assigned him homeless-duty.  He wasn't quite sure if this was a promotion or a demotion.  Not in status, but in location.  As the others headed down he offered one last caution on the trace-ability of the computers.  "When you get the download, see if there is a way to ditch the equipment down there in a way that will move it away form this location - a water flow or something.  It would be great if it traveled for awhile before being found again.  If the company is involved in this, they will want to find that stuff.  It is probably obvious we came for just intell, but maybe if they think we kept the junk they might think it was a cash job.  The longer it takes them to figure out we are on to them the longer it will be before they act on that.  So see if there is a way to move that stuff along.  But qiuickly."

With his warning given Fixer looked up and down the alley as Casino made himself a little bed amidst the refuse.  Taking his cue from the bigger man he moved a ways down the alley in the opposite direction.  If Casino watched one direction, he'd watch the other.  He followed suit and made himself a bit of a nest doing his best to make himself look homeless and unobtrusive.  Hopefully no one would even realize he was there until they were almost on top of him.  It was a grim spot and he couldn't help but feel for those for whom this wasn't just a hiding spot, but a bedroom.  Life was tough.  He knew of one kid in particular for whom things were getting really grim . . . 

(OOC:  If there is a dumpster Fixer will use it for partial cover.  If not, he will make use of whatever refuse is around.  Also, if he has one of the walkie talkies he will make sure it is on silent so that it doesn't give him away.  I'm assuming he can have it where he would still notice (vibrate a bit?) if it goes off.  Or leave the volume very, very low.)

Net Meeting with songbird

Contris: Closed

Tag: Brom Sal

Goals:

Make a tentative date with blackbird2500

Pending:

studying: Chinese Language

Study Chinese culture

Look into his option of identity printers later

Gearlogix 24B290 Thermal Printer with a Hologenics Modular Printbox attachment which he has listed for 900 credits.

here are five people total who can make use of the office equipment right away.

Blackbird2500 ( senior tech officer)

== Text Message ==

I’ve worked 14 hrs already. Tired. Deal?

== End Text Message ==

Yes we have a deal

Work out details when you are feeling better?. How about over some coffee... my treat of course.

Luther hits reply

And continue his hourly lesson in chinese before the GPS brings him closer to upstairs / Down stairs. Luther messages Casino “ I’m less than 30 minutes out, do you have the package yet,  has santa’s elves been seen yet? “

Before a reply is given Luther fires another message.

“ I don’t have alot of room in the vehicle, wrap that package up and get ready to have it picked up”.

"Well of course I don't have a ticket.  Already told you I was trying to get away from that root down there.  Since you all cleared it up I was just about to head out myself.  You sure we can't come to some understanding that has us all just walking away?  I'd love to give you credit for your time and effort if that helps."

“Ghlahn can you hear me. Come in Ghlahn.” 

Bloodbank froze in the process of stepping away from the fire escape as the homemade walkie-talkie in his pocket squawked. Feeling the eyes of the others upon him, he pulled the device from its pocket an looked down at it. He felt the heat rise up in his face as he realized just exactly what he'd done in leaving Ghlahn. Again, the group was separated without any form of communication. 

"Well, sh*t..." the MedTech murmured, reaching up to sheepishly rub the back of his head. He glanced around at the others as they stared at him. "I... I didn't think to return the radio to Ghlahn when I broke off to join you here."

"Unf***ing believable,” Casino cursed before taking a deep breath and then looking to the rest. “I’ll try to hook up with him, let’s meet back at that small diner we hooked up before.”

“No,” Vegas shook his head, “Casino, get the team to a safe place nearby. I’ll go get Ghlahn. Fixer believes that there’s a clock on this, so make it somewhere nearby and stay in radio contact.” Not waiting for confirmation, Vegas slappped his partner’s uninjured shoulder and turned to stride away leaving the remainder of the edgerunners waiting on Casino’s lead.

“Look,” Blossom remarks as though the information she’s sharing doesn’t really matter. “Fixer’s probs right. Many companies rig these boxes with tracing hardware in case some of their employees decide to make a few bucks selling surplus. So, we need to find someplace secure where I can jack in and do my full data transfer. Give me a quarter and I’ll make this pony dance.”

“Subway, maybe?” Echo steps up to the blonde solo so that their shoulders are touching. “We might be able to find a corner and give her some cover while she works. It’s close.”

A brief lull fell in the conversation as Casino considered their options while watching Vegas' retreating form. After a moment more, Casino turned to the group and spoke. “Ok, Echo suggests the subway, however, we are carrying too much stolen stuff to blend in. I say we find a sewer entrance somewhere out of sight and use the area below it as temp base till we reconnect with Vegas and Ghlahn. Or any better idea’s? Blossom you ok with a dark deep sewer squat?”

Bloodbank didn't have a better idea. In fact, his mind was clouded with embarrassment and he couldn't think of much more than the mistake he had made. He gritted his teeth as he tried to force his mind to focus on the activities at hand. It was difficult, try as he might he could just not get his thoughts to focus. It didn't take any thought to follow the rest of the group as they wandered over to a sewer grate and opened it up, unleashing the putrid scents that were always prevalent in the deep and dank places.

“Ok Blossom you, Echo and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become homeless and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.” Casino directed, wandering over to some trash and refuse and arranging himself a small hobo nest. 

Bloodbank took the lead, sitting down on the wet, trash-strewn ground and dangling his legs into the sewer and then sliding into the darkness. He splashed into the sewer muck and blinked as his eyes adjusted, his optic splices granting him sight in what would've otherwise been blinding darkness. He grimaced, his boot were good ones - worn, but good - but even good boots would leak if they soaked long enough. Trying to divert his mind from what was soaking his socks, he reached up offering to take the equipment off the hands of the others as they jumped down.

As Blossom and Echo splashed down he handed Blossom the tech and leaned against a grimy wall, watching as Blossom began to work her magic. 

The Alley Outside the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 3:24 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

This job is turning out to be one never-ending party, Fixer muses. But at least the group generally seems to know what they are doing—and listening to him when he knows what he is doing. Which isn’t all the time, but he has his specialties. And one of those is knowing he does not want to get caught with the stolen goods. The group seems to get this and gets to work dealing with it.

“Look,” Blossom remarks as though the information she’s sharing doesn’t really matter. “Fixer’s probs right. Many companies rig these boxes with tracing hardware in case some of their employees decide to make a few bucks selling surplus. So, we need to find someplace secure where I can jack in and do my full data transfer. Give me a quarter and I’ll make this pony dance.”

“Subway, maybe?” Echo steps up to the blonde solo so that their shoulders are touching. “We might be able to find a corner and give her some cover while she works. It’s close.”

Casino’s masked gaze fixes on Vegas’s back as his partner moves away. Casino has a sudden bad feeling in his gut that this will be the last time he sees his Sinatra look-alike friend and partner alive. Turning to the rest of the group he attempts to put the grim thought behind him and ponders the discussion for a moment.

“Ok,” the big man begins, having come to a conclusion, “Echo suggests the subway, however we are carrying too much stolen stuff to blend in. I say we find a sewer entrance somewhere out of sight and use the area below it as temp base till we reconnect with Vegas and Ghlahn. Or are there any better ideas? Blossom, you OK with a dark deep sewer squat?”

Stomach lurching as the memory of the sewer’s rank odors flood her senses, the netrunner swallows the urge to puke and frowns. “I’ll do what needs doin’. Don’t like it but…” she shrugs.

He’s got a point, Echo admits admiringly of the blonde solo’s change in plan. Better to do this without all the potential rubberneckers. Checking her submachine gun, the nomad woman gives the masked gunman a nod indicating her readiness.

Leading off in a casual stroll, Echo on the group’s six, the big solo takes the small company in the opposite direction that Vegas had gone, out onto the still fairly busy street. Ground cars weave past each other with automated AI-controlled vehicles mixing seamlessly alongside the manually driven cars and vans. While not as crowded as during daylight hours, the sidewalk is still full enough of rain-slick wearing people and delivery bots that the edgerunners find themselves navigating a particularly full swell of humanity immediately upon exiting the alley. Blue hues paint the watery surfaces, cast by a large holographic sign of a beautiful Asian woman advertising a nanobite cosmetic pack.

Casino leads the team to the right—north along the busy thoroughfare. Each cut in the architecture is an opportunity. Most hold some form of huddling homeless party but experience has shown that in most cases, at least in this part of the Integrate, they aren’t going to be able to hold that position for long before security, gangs, or another group of homeless force them out. Their plight doesn’t matter right now, however, the mountain of a man is looking for access to the sewer system and at least a semi-private means procuring one. Surprisingly enough, a garbage-filled, nearly empty alley with a sewer entrance is discovered within minutes of beginning the search.

Those with optics have immediate access to the distance between the buildings: five meters. Five meters of wet, disgusting trash, mud, and unnamable refuse. Discarded shipping boxes, mostly flattened, are scattered about the alleyway, with at least three in plain sight that have been built into a shelter that includes old tarps, printed screamsheets, full print magazines, old blankets, and some plastic shipping materials. The occupants of these three ramshackle abodes wisely avert their attention or numbly make no move to take notice of the edgerunners at all. The manhole cover sits center in the alley, the pavement lowering a good five centimeters to form a nice gully through which the dirty water can flow.

Swiftly making their way to the manhole, Casino and Fixer set about lifting the cover and setting it aside while Echo, Bloodbank, and Blossom stand watch. Candied decay wafts up from the exposed hole to eagerly strike out at the edgerunners’ noses while the sound of rainwater cascading into the depths below makes a hollow beat.

“Dear gods above and below,” Blossom gags. “That’s worse than last time. Is that worse than last time?” She looks to her companions for confirmation. “That’s gotta be worse than last time.”

“Ok Blossom you, Echo, and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become ‘homeless’ and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.” Casino instructs them through the stink.

Echo nods in agreement, squinting against the awful bouquett. Squaring her shoulders, the athletic woman peers into the space below. Producing a flashlight from her pocket, the leather-clad nomad illuminates the darkness within. Without a word, she crouches, turns, and descends the slippery, mold-covered ladder with her flashlight held in her left hand pointing down.

Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, Echo grits her teeth and stares in revulsion at the swirling brackish liquid awaiting her. She has no idea how deep the muck is and is fairly certain that there are things floating in it that no human being should ever come into contact with, but they have a job to finish and—her stomach churns, the foulness of the air and the thought of wading into the repugnant water have gotten the better of her. Coughing and dry heaving wracks her shoulders and chest with such violence that she nearly smashes her head against a rung. Scrambling up the ladder, the nomad flings herself into a bent over crouch and pulls her balaclava down so she can relieve her urge to vomit.

“Ew!” Blossom steps back quickly and holds the back of her hand up to her mouth. “Gross.”

“I can’t,” Echo coughs, eyes squeezed shut, skin appearing pale even in the poor light. “I can’t go down there.”

“Uh-uh,” Blossom shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. I’m not going down there now either. Sh*t be too real. Too real!”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 03:35 AM PST)

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Near the Parking Garage two blocks from the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 03:07 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“You’re not doing yourself any favors here, choombatta,” calls out the first voice. “If you aren’t trespassing, your tag will prove your story. Refuse to comply and we’re going to have to assume you’re not supposed to be here. You see what kind of situation you’re in?”

“We’re not the only team up here,” a second voice drifts through the garage. “You have absolutely no way out. Don’t be a dick.”

Corporate security isn’t known for patience and if they do have another team moving about on that level then Ghlahn will be facing a minimum of six opponents and possibly eight to ten. Not to mention that his back is to a chain fence. A well-placed sniper could take him out from behind.

"Well of course I don't have a ticket.” Ghlahn is fed up with the situation. “Already told you I was trying to get away from that riot down there. Since you all cleared it up, I was just about to head out myself. You sure we can't come to some understanding that has us all just walking away? I'd love to give you credit for your time and effort if that helps."

A bribe might help. Soldiers are soldiers and most aren’t paid well for their services. And though it is worth a try, the security team doesn’t seem to be biting. There’s a moment silence… maybe a few seconds… and then the answer comes.

“No one wants to be here right now, choomba,” the guard calls back. “Hell! I’m missing a great playoff game because of this mess. You’ve got sixty seconds to give yourself up. After that… well, we’re all going to be adding some numbers to the daily death pool. Sixty seconds, starting now!”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 03:09 AM PST)

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the Long Mile Fueling Station | SanFran Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 5:03 AM PST --- Weather Conditions: High City (heavy rain, 20mph winds from the N.) | Midcity (light rain, 10mph winds from the N.) | Undercity (fog and drizzle, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 15 | Midcity = 36 | Undercity = 86 (masks required - Red warning)

After a half hour on the phone with Blackbird, Cred Stick Charlie has managed to wheedle her down by 50 credits for the printer and the modular holographic imprinter taking the price to 900 credits. He’s positive that this is as low as she’s going to go and she seems to be losing patience.

Returning to the bottom screen, he checks on the search results which have been presented according to his preference of urgency ratings. There are five people total who can make use of the office equipment right away.

== Text Message ==

I’ve worked 14 hrs already. Tired. Deal?

== End Text Message ==

The fixer quickly thumbs in his reply.

Yes we have a deal

Work out details when you are feeling better?. How about over some coffee... my treat of course.

Luther hits send and continues his hourly lesson in Chinese while the self-driving car’s GPS brings him closer to Upstairs Downstairs, Inc’s office building. But his agent reminds him that he is within a half hour of arriving at the address and that he’d asked for a reminder at that time.

Pulling up his browser, Luther pulls up Vegas’ contact information and accesses the messages.

I’m less than 30 minutes out, do you have the package yet, has Santa’s elves been seen yet?

Before a reply is given Luther fires another message.

I don’t have a lot of room in the vehicle, wrap that package up and get ready to have it picked up.

Unfortunately, that’s when the lights start flashing behind him. Blue and red illuminating the early morning skyline. Glancing in the side mirror, Cred Stick Charlie can readily make out the profile of a police cruiser flying in his wake indicating that he is to descend and land on the side of a street.

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 5:05 AM PST)

Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, Echo grits her teeth and stares in revulsion at the swirling brackish liquid awaiting her. She has no idea how deep the muck is and is fairly certain that there are things floating in it that no human being should ever come into contact with, but they have a job to finish and—her stomach churns, the foulness of the air and the thought of wading into the repugnant water have gotten the better of her. Coughing and dry heaving wracks her shoulders and chest with such violence that she nearly smashes her head against a rung. Scrambling up the ladder, the nomad flings herself into a bent over crouch and pulls her balaclava down so she can relieve her urge to vomit.

“Ew!” Blossom steps back quickly and holds the back of her hand up to her mouth. “Gross.”

“I can’t,” Echo coughs, eyes squeezed shut, skin appearing pale even in the poor light. “I can’t go down there.”

“Uh-uh,” Blossom shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. I’m not going down there now either. Sh*t be too real. Too real!”

Looking up from trying to create a blind, Casino can't help but understand, the smell reaching him also. Looking at the group as a whole, he raises his hands and sighs.

"Well that was my idea, Blossom, Echo, anyone got another one, I'm out" 

   The offered bribe was not accepted.  Ghalan had hoped a bit of credit would difuse the situation bt it seemed the leader was set on a confrontation.  That thought was confirmed when he announced that in 60 seconds there would be trouble if Ghalan did not turn himself in.  "What kind of idiot gives a countdown?"  Ghalan thought to himself.  Sixty seconds was an eternity for an accomplished assassin.  Ghalan calculated that the two men directly to his front were the most dangerous as he had little cover from them.  Those to his right were at least blocked a bit by the car.  "Alright you win, we wil do it your way.  Just calm down."  Ghalan hoped his answer would cause a moment of pause and maybe even a bit of a relief to th team members.  Deropping into the prone, Ghalan brought his rifle to bear on the legs of the farthest team member.  By shooting under the cars he hoped to hit their more vulnerable legs and take them out of the fight.  He squeezed the trigger and sent the first round away, then a second flash sent another round towards the second team members legs.  Almost by reflex he rolled back under the car for better cover while he sought to target the remaining team members.  

“Dear gods above and below,” Blossom gags. “That’s worse than last time. Is that worse than last time?” She looks to her companions for confirmation. “That’s gotta be worse than last time.”

Silently, Bloodbank nodded his head in agreement to Blossom's observation. The sewers here did seem to smell significantly worse than the other sewer sections that they had the misfortune of experiencing.

“Ok Blossom you, Echo, and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become ‘homeless’ and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.” Casino instructed them through the stink.

Bloodbank watched as Echo moved first, scrambling down the ladder and into the filth. She was only down there a moment before she stumbled back out, looking very pale. She stumbled past Bloodbank and Blossom, pulling her balaclava down just quick enough to miss soiling it as she emptied her stomach into the alley walls.

“Ew!” Blossom steps back quickly and holds the back of her hand up to her mouth. “Gross.”

Slinging his bag from his shoulder Bloodbank dug inside, searching for a rag or something to hand over to Echo so that she could wipe her mouth. Doing this caused an idea to spring to mind. Rummaging further into his bag, the MedTech listened as Echo coughed and bemoaned her ability to spend any more time in that sewer. 

“Uh-uh,” Blossom shook her head emphatically. “Nope. I’m not going down there now either. Sh*t be too real. Too real!"

Casino glanced over at them, and seemed to understand. "Well that was my idea, Blossom, Echo, anyone got another one? I'm out."

"What if," Bloodbank asked, rising from his crouch holding two items. "I was able to fashion us some masks to filter out that sewer smell. At least for a bit." He held up the items he was holding; an undershirt and some rubbing alcohol disinfectant from his medkit. "I could tear this into strips, and soak those strips in this alcohol, and we could tie that around our noses. As long as we tried to breathe through our mouths, I'm pretty sure that the fumes wouldn't be too much to cause us problems, but the sewer smell could be largely blocked out with that of sterile alcohol. Think you two could stomach the sewers then?"

"Could I stomach the sewers, then?" Bloodbank wondered silently to himself. The smell was truly toxic, and he could feel the bile trying to rise in his throat as he thought of descending into the filth. "Do I really have the luxury of that choice, though? We are running out of time, and we are out of ideas. We need to do something!"

Fixer watched Echo and Blossom try and fail to go down into the sewers.  The smell was truly awful and he was glad he had been assigned homesless duty.  That sewer was nasty!

Bloodbank came to the rescue with his offer of making masks for the sewer.  Fixer did his best to avoid grinning.  With or without Fixer's improvised masks, he was glad he was not beign asked to go down.  He wondered if the masks would work.

"I don't know if the masks will work, but what about those shelters over there."  He nodded his head in the direction of the boxes and things forming a shelter in the alley for some wrecks unfortuante enough to have no better shelter.  "For just a few credits I'm sure the residents could be persuaded to vacate and we would at least have a hidden location in which to work.  It isn't perfect, but the smell will at least be tolerable."

(OOC:  The above comment is based on the assumption that the homeless shelters are significant enough that 2 or 3 people would be concealed within them under the tarps, blankets and cardboard.  If they wouldn't actually provide concelament, forget the above comment.) 

Contris: Closed

Tag: Brom Sal

Goals:

Make it to the pick up point

Pending:

studying: Chinese Language

Study Chinese culture

Look into his option of identity printers later

Unfortunately, that’s when the lights start flashing behind him. Blue and red illuminating the early morning skyline. Glancing in the side mirror, Cred Stick Charlie can readily make out the profile of a police cruiser flying in his wake indicating that he is to descend and land on the side of a street.

" What the heck?" Luterh talked to himself outloud

Luther got his fake ID ready to be scanned  but as he did Luther started to go over a checklist that he did in the fueling station parking lot... everything looked good, wierd he thougt to himself. 

Luther landed the vehicle and waited for the officer. 

The Alley Outside the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 3:35 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, Echo grits her teeth and stares in revulsion at the swirling brackish liquid awaiting her. She has no idea how deep the muck is and is fairly certain that there are things floating in it that no human being should ever come into contact with, but they have a job to finish and—her stomach churns, the foulness of the air and the thought of wading into the repugnant water have gotten the better of her. Coughing and dry heaving wracks her shoulders and chest with such violence that she nearly smashes her head against a rung. Scrambling up the ladder, the nomad flings herself into a bent over crouch and pulls her balaclava down so she can relieve her urge to vomit.

“Ew!” Blossom steps back quickly and holds the back of her hand up to her mouth. “Gross.”

“I can’t,” Echo coughs, eyes squeezed shut, skin appearing pale even in the poor light. “I can’t go down there.”

“Uh-uh,” Blossom shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. I’m not going down there now either. Sh*t be too real. Too real!”

Looking up from trying to create a blind, Casino can't help but understand, the smell reaching him also. Looking at the group as a whole, he raises his hands and sighs.

"Well that was my idea, Blossom, Echo, anyone got another one, I'm out."

"What if," Bloodbank asks, rising from crouching and scrounging through his bag holding two items, "I was able to fashion us some masks to filter out that sewer smell. At least for a bit."

He holds up the items he; an undershirt and some rubbing alcohol disinfectant from his medkit. "I could tear this into strips, and soak those strips in this alcohol, and we could tie that around our noses. As long as we tried to breathe through our mouths, I'm pretty sure that the fumes wouldn't be too much to cause us problems, but the sewer smell could be largely blocked out with that of sterile alcohol. Think you two could stomach the sewers then?"

Could I stomach the sewers, then? Bloodbank wonders to himself. The smell is truly toxic, and he can feel the bile trying to rise in his throat as he thinks of descending into the filth. Do I really have the luxury of that choice, though? We are running out of time, and we are out of ideas. We need to do something!

Fixer watches Echo and Blossom try and fail to go down into the sewers. The smell is truly awful and he is glad he has been assigned homeless duty. That sewer is nasty! Fixer does his best to avoid grinning when Bloodbank attempts to come to the rescue. With or without the Medtech's improvised masks, he is glad he is not being asked to go down. He wonders if the masks will work.

"I don't know if the masks will work, but what about those shelters over there," He nods his head in the direction of the boxes and things forming a shelter in the alley for some wrecks unfortunate enough to have no better shelter. "For just a few credits I'm sure the residents could be persuaded to vacate and we would at least have a hidden location in which to work. It isn't perfect, but the smell will at least be tolerable."

“No offense, Doc Bloodbank,” Blossom pops her lolli from her mouth and uses it to indicate the sewers, “but our girl here literally lost her sh*t after spending a few seconds in that hellhole. Way to attempt to McGuyver a solution but I’m voting for droppin’ a couple of C’s on those streetrats and seeing what kind of hospitality that wins us.”

Echo uses the back of her hand to wipe the corners of her mouth and gags again before nodding in agreement still doubled over. “I can taste it.”

“Ew!” Blossom shoves the candy back into her mouth and screws her face up in disgust.

(OOC: Assuming the plan will proceed as outlined by Fixer.)

The area in which the techie had referred everyone to is located further down the alley where the inhabitants are less likely to cause disturbances along the street and thus are less likely to be ousted. Wet cardboard boxes are propped up against the outside amongst pallets, discarded poles and other garbage. While not reaching higher than a small pup tent, there will be room inside to sit if the outside provides a correct estimation.

Approaching what appears to be the opening, a growling voice rolls from inside, “Just ‘cause I don’t live in no fancy conapt don’t mean I can’t defend myself. Roll on, ‘less you want some new holes t’ breathe through.”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 03:38 AM PST)

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Near the Parking Garage two blocks from the Upstairs Downstairs Inc. Building | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 03:09 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“No one wants to be here right now, choomba,” the guard calls back. “Hell! I’m missing a great playoff game because of this mess. You’ve got sixty seconds to give yourself up. After that… well, we’re all going to be adding some numbers to the daily death pool. Sixty seconds, starting now!”

The offered bribe is not accepted. Ghlahn’s hope that a bit of credit would defuse the situation fizzles as it seems the team leader is set on a confrontation. That thought is confirmed when he announces that in 60 seconds there will be trouble if Ghlahn doesn’t turn himself in. What kind of idiot gives a countdown? Ghlahn muses. Sixty seconds is an eternity for an accomplished assassin.

Ghlahn calculates that the two men directly to his front are the most dangerous as he has little cover from them. Those to his right are at least blocked a bit by the car.

"Alright, you win, we will do it your way. Just calm down." Ghlahn hopes his answer will cause a moment of pause and maybe even a bit of a relief to the team members. Dropping into a prone position, Ghlahn brings his rifle to bear on the legs of the farthest team member across the driving lane and in front of him. By shooting under the cars he hopes to hit their more vulnerable legs and take them out of the fight. He squeezes the trigger and sends the first round off, then a second flash sends another round towards the second team member’s legs. Almost by reflex he rolls back under the car for better cover while he seeks to target the remaining team members.

The leg of the first target is swept backward and though the Cee-metal sniper’s vision is partially blocked, he’s pretty sure that the man falls into the vehicle he’s taking cover behind. Too intent on his second target to register anything more of the first’s situation, Ghlahn expertly places his second round into the exposed shin area of the closer of the two soldiers. Again, the leg swings back with the impact from the round and Alex McKennon scrambles behind the tire and under the car.

Unable to see anything of his next targets from between the tires, the sniper has to quickly belly crawl forward in order to gain a line of sight and even then, he can just make out the right side of the fellow hiding behind the cement pillar. Squeezing off two more shots, Ghlahn watches with satisfaction as the first round strikes the fellow in his exposed right arm and immediately ignites the fabric on fire. His second round tears through the inner thigh, penetrating the armor and spraying arterial blood away from the limb. The man falls out of site as the chaos of battle descends on the parking garage.

From off to Ghlahn’s front left the sound of automatic weapons fire is immediately accompanied by the high pitched ring of rounds striking metal as twenty to thirty rounds pepper the vehicles over and around him. These are followed by more of the same. Glass breaks, the vehicle covering the Corpore Steel soldier is dancing with the barrage but so’s the yellow sports next to him.

With his eyes still on the targets by the pillar, Ghlahn spots the other soldier in the area pop up and spray rounds his way with a submachine gun while more rounds come in from the left. Oil begins to drain from multiple holes in the engine block overhead spattering down on Ghlahn like dirty rain. Sparks fly and whistling bullets strike right near Alex’s head spitting fragments of cement into his combat mask like tiny bugs against a motorcycle helmet windscreen.

His situation has changed. Six seconds have passed since he started shooting and already Ghlahn feels that he may have eliminated three of the potentially eight from the fight but his left side is now definitely under siege and their reactive barrage of fire is quickly going to be replaced by a more strategic assault.

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 03:09 AM PST)

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the Long Mile Fueling Station | SanFran Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 5:05 AM PST --- Weather Conditions: High City (heavy rain, 20mph winds from the N.) | Midcity (light rain, 10mph winds from the N.) | Undercity (fog and drizzle, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 15 | Midcity = 36 | Undercity = 86 (masks required - Red warning)

Pulling up his browser, Luther pulls up Vegas’ contact information and accesses the messages.

I’m less than 30 minutes out, do you have the package yet, has Santa’s elves been seen yet?

Before a reply is given Luther fires another message.

I don’t have a lot of room in the vehicle, wrap that package up and get ready to have it picked up.

Unfortunately, that’s when the lights start flashing behind him. Blue and red illuminating the early morning skyline. Glancing in the side mirror, Cred Stick Charlie can readily make out the profile of a police cruiser flying in his wake indicating that he is to descend and land on the side of a street.

"What the heck?" Luther says to himself.

Producing his fake ID from the side pocket of his agent’s case, Cred Stick Charlie places it on the console separating the front seats, ready for it to be scanned. As he did, Luther mentally goes over the checklist that he performed at the fueling station parking lot... everything looked good then. Weird, he thinks as paranoia sets in.

Mentally ordering his agent to dial 911, the fixer begins to pull his hover jeep over, seeking someplace well lit and potentially in the public eye.

⇐ 911 What’s your emergency? =>

Relaying to the dispatcher that he is being pulled over, the well-dressed dealer asks for verification that the vehicle behind him is, in fact, a police officer.

<= Yes sir, it is. Officer Burns, badge number 34285 has called in the stop. =>

Still unsure of why he’s being pulled over, Luther asks if there’s a patrol sergeant nearby that can join them.

<= I can assure you, sir, that a patrol sergeant isn’t necessary. But if you’d really like one present, I can see how long it will take for a sergeant to get to your location. =>

Spotting a descent position beneath a streetlamp and in front of a semicircular building face with four stories of glass facing the street, Luther pulls over and stops the vehicle, allowing the winds of the hover turbines the settle and the jeep to slowly lower to street level.

(OOC: Luther’s answer.)

<= Very well, sir. =>

Behind him, the patrol car swings its nose out towards the street for an easier departure, blues and reds still flashing, reflecting both off of the wet street and the windows of the buildings around them.

(OOC: I’m holding off posting further so that you, Espatier, have time to answer dispatch and tell me how Luther is preparing to meet the cop(s). )

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 5:07 AM PST)

Contris: Closed

Tag: Brom Sal

Goals:

Go recover time from the traffic stop

Pending:

studying: Chinese Language

Study Chinese culture

Look into his option of identity printers later

Non Felon Traffic stop in progress

<= I can assure you, sir, that a patrol sergeant isn’t necessary. But if you’d really like one present, I can see how long it will take for a sergeant to get to your location. =>

Spotting a descent position beneath a streetlamp and in front of a semicircular building face with four stories of glass facing the street, Luther pulls over and stops the vehicle, allowing the winds of the hover turbines the settle and the jeep to slowly lower to street level.

Luther sighs

" Fine..... but I find this unnessasary as I'm trying to home, Thank you dispatch"

<= Very well, sir. =>

Behind him, the patrol car swings its nose out towards the street for an easier departure, blues and reds still flashing, reflecting both off of the wet street and the windows of the buildings around them.

Luther rechecks his I.D. and keeps his hand on the dash so that they can be seen as well as the I.D. and awats for the officer to speak to him. 

Luther chooses to dial  Hui Yin, just in case something goes south. Luther explains that he is getting pulled over and want her on the line to listen in. 

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 5:07 AM PST)

Fixer was glad they had another plan of action.  As humorous as it might have been to watch the ladies try going down into the sewer, it did not look like it would be very successful and they were running out of time.  As they approached the makeshift shelter and were confronted by its resident Fixer decided to just keep going and not wait for Casino to speak for the group. 

"Just ‘cause I don’t live in no fancy conapt don’t mean I can’t defend myself. Roll on, ‘less you want some new holes t’ breathe through.”

"Fair enough," Fixer said as he came to a halt.  "I don't need any more holes and I don't think my companions do either.  We do, however, need a place to work quietly for a very brief period of time.  This place may not be fancy as you said, but we would like to rent it from you for an hour.  No holes needed for anyone.  We will give you a few credits and you just go for a walk for a while.  Easy money.  Easy money and nobody gets holes.  What do you say?"  At this Fixer holds up a few credits.  

(OOC:  I have no idea exactly how much would be needed.  Fixer would take his best guess and then add a couple more.  He wants this to work and doesn't want the guy getting hurt.  What follows assumes the offer is accepted.  If it isn't just ignore it.)

With the resident(s) of the shelter on their way down the alley and out of site those on technology duty disappeared into the shelter.  He turned to Casino.  "Back on homeless guard duty I guess."  With that he headed back up the alley a bit looking for a place where he could find a little cover and conceal himself in a way that made him look like a napping homeless person.  As he did so he addressed his fellow homeless, "When they are done we still need to ditch that stuff.   The sewer below may work.  It looked deep and if we could find even a semi-intact box it might float 1/2 a block or more away from the entrance. The further the better."

(OOC:  As noted Fixer will conceal himself amidst the alley.  n he is looking for something he can sort of hide behind which would give him some protection - from sight or shots in a fight.  But mostly he wants to blend in as a homeless person.)

In the last 10 seconds things had gone to hell.  Three of the security forces were down but that left perhaps five still in the fight and automatic weapon fire was shredding the car above him.  "Last chance, no one has died yet.  You guys grab your wounded budies and pull back and it might just stay that way"  He knew there was littel chance they would take up the offer but he figured it couldn't hurt to try.  Knowing his spot was compromised, Ghalan worked quickly.  Angling his body he sought to target the two agents hiding to his left behind the red skull painted car.  Even in a firefight it was interesting what he noticed.