A Quick Back post
As Croaker, Bullseye and Coyote begin to head out Croaker was stopped by Preacher’s first words since Spiff and Coyote had joined them.

"Don’t know if it matters much where yer plan’s concerned, pardner, but should it come down t’ a tussle, I don’t know what good I’ll be in the chuckwagon. Sure, I can put ‘er in drive, tickle the accelerator a little, but when it comes to leavin’ Dodge, I’m no wheelman if ya catch my drift."
Those soft spoken words stopped Croaker dead in his tracks. Preacher was right he was no real wheelman and the very success of the run could very well come down to skill in driving. Thinking quick there was only one real solution even through Croaker did not want to make it.

"Ok Preacher your right, change of plans, your with us, Bullseye I need you to play wheelman. If no objections then lets get moving."
With Preacher in place of Bullseye armed once again with his SMG, the 3 moved out....

(OOC: Ok Brom I already talked to Kyle about this and he is ok with the switch so no need to wait on a post by him unless its really needed.)

There were tons of files here, more than he could get through in any reasonable amount of time, and Jazzer knew it. He did not like asking the assistance of others and figured that he could find some pattern to the informational storage systems here. Knowing that he would not be getting any younger, the mogwai began scanning the informational systems in order to find its pattern and locate his target.

"Well, why can't they just have an autofinder? That would sure be the treat," he whispered to himself before muffling a silent chuckle.

(hopefully it is in some kind of alphabetical order or something and I can find Merideth with no problem, but if it is in no order at all then I will just have to ask for help from one of the assistants)

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:26am
The decision had been made. Preacher was going to take Bullseye’s place as a gun on the run, Bullseye would handle the van. They were still a couple of blocks away from the Hole and Croaker had taken that into consideration. He’d asked for at least fifteen minutes to get into position and if they moved, that would be enough to position themselves. Peacekeeper, Firewind, Spiff were to approach the Hole for a meeting with Spiff’s assumed contact. Croaker, Coyote, and Preacher were going to provide cover from somewhere surrounding the Hole, and Bullseye’d be close by for the pick up. That was the plan anyway.

The blocks between them faded fast. The three men moving into position jogged through the rain in loose formation, their heavy boots splashing through the gathered rainwater, their jackets and bags bouncing in sodden rhythm, their silenced submachine guns held firmly in their grip. The trip took them through alleys and across two streets, all the while the men kept glancing about looking for signs of interruption in their progress. The winds howling with an intense rage, flinging rain into their faces with a vengeance. The parking lot to the southwest of the Hole came up on them quickly. The three stood in the perceived protection of an alley across the street from the lot encased in shadow while a couple of cars rolled by.

Croaker could see the basic shapes of the vehicles in the lot through the rain, but the weather didn’t permit much more than that. Coyote’s eyesight wasn’t so hindered. He could pinpoint the tiny cameras attached to the lamp posts. He could even make out the shadow of the bloke sitting on top of the Hole near the fire escape in the southeastern corner. Preacher could also see better than Croaker, but not quite as good as the augmented boostergang bodyguard that was now counted within their numbers. He saw the cameras and whistled.

“Su-eeee,” he began with a slow shake of his head, the rain pouring from the rim of his hat. “There’s some security o’er yonder. That there parkin’ lot’s got enough eyes on it t’ be a vidstar.”

Back at the other parking lot Spiff, Firewind, and Peacekeeper had been counting down. The distance between them and their destination had been calculated and it was determined that if they were to amble over when the others were running it would give their companions enough time to find purchase before they reached the front door. They’d take the street, walking along the sidewalks and in a more roundabout direction than straight through the blocks. They’d also walk with more of a determined nature; like people on a mission. Spiff took the lead, Peacekeeper and Firewind on either side.

This left Bullseye sitting in the driver’s seat of the van he’d requisitioned.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:35am
Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:14pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Administration Building.
The filing cabinets were just a shell for the intricate database containing the hundreds of thousands of registered students and staff; everyone from physical entities to worldwide “exchange” students were in there. Public access should you know who to look for. A few menu selections and entering the words Merideth Ackerman resulted in success. Jazzer wasn’t a database genius, but he knew enough about programming to get around the deficiency.

Merideth was registered at the university. She was apparently a transfer from Berkley… a couple of strokes of genius later and Jazzer had opened the confidential files, bypassing the securities that the school had in place according the state’s privacy laws. It wasn’t an easy thing per se, but it was something he was capable of doing and he had the need. According to the confidential files she hadn’t been to any of her classes for the better part of three weeks. Notices had been sent to her father: one Mick Ackerman at a P.O. Box downtown. They’d received a response back from Mick stating that Merideth was away visiting family and excused for the time being, but that he didn’t see any problem with her returning next semester. There was also a notation that the Ackermans had provided the college with a nice donation immediately following the letter.

There was also a picture of Merideth for her student I.D.. According to her file, Merideth Ackerman was 5’ 4” tall, had techhair, shifttacs, and was a beauty of the extraordinary kind.

Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:14pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Administration Building.
The Mean Streets – Night City – 11:16pm
It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the apartment building: the door, as it turned out, was caught on the rubber-backed welcome matt thus allowing the two access to the interior lobby. Guardian led the way, having hidden his weapon long enough to not draw attention to them from the sniper overhead. Once in the yellow-lit lobby, however, the large bodyguard revealed his handgun once more. Again, luck seemed to be on their side as they made their way up the stairs and to a red door marked “Utility” as they encountered no one. Frankie had been sure they’d have to bluff their way through at least one encounter and had to admit to a little disappointment when they found themselves standing in front of the door that they were both sure would lead to the roof access they desired. The trick at this point would be getting in, and this door was locked.

It was a simple lock, but a lock none-the-less. The two men looked at each other for a moment, each wondering if the other had a means to bypass the lock, and each knowing the longer they stared that there neither man was going to produce a rabbit from their hat. Finally, DigitalScribe shrugged and stepped back, motioning that Guardian was better suited for the grunt work. Guardian also took a step back, then very fluidly, cocked his leg back and gave the door a vicious front kick right near the knob. The door shuddered, but held. The two men looked up and down the hall to see what the assault had disturbed, waited a couple of minutes and then gazed for a moment at one another again before Frankie motioned at the door once more. Again Guardian’s booted foot bounced off the door with a loud thud.

“The thing ain’t Fort Knox, god!” DigitalScribe breathed in disbelief. Guardian responded by kicking the door one more time. This time the attack was followed by a serious cracking sound and though the door held, the jam was definitely broken. Guardian finished it off by putting a shoulder to it and pushing.

The utility room was dark and DigitalScribe was forced to turn on the battery-powered lamp on his camera to provide them with a visual of the cluttered space. There were furnaces, water heaters, and all sorts of piping as well as an iron staircase in the back that led up to a ladder and a trap door. Stepping inside, Frank in the lead, Frankie following and closing the door (to the best of their ability) behind them, the two men made short work of the distance between them and the stairs, then the ladder, and finally Guardian emerged into the rain once more, crouching low on the rooftop.

DigitalScribe waited until his bodyguard signaled that it was clear before climbing onto the gravel surface. He left the door to the roof open for a quick escape and ducked real low so as not to give himself up to those on the neighboring rooftop.

“I’ll go over there and see about angles,” he pointed to the side closest to the Hole as he started to half-crawl towards the lip.

Guardian made a quick round of the rooftop and found that there was a fire escape probably within jumping distance attached to the building they were on against the north wall… the street wall. He quickly returned to DigitalScribe’s side and whispered his findings as the two lay belly down in the puddles of rain water. The media’s camera was rolled back almost onto his back and swiveled slightly recording the whole scene on the roof opposite. Frankie gave his bodyguard a nod, mentally registering the location as Guardian had described it and categorizing it under: probably an easier escape route should things get messy than down into the building again.

“Ok,” he whispered, fully aware that it was likely these boostergang sentries could be augmented with audio amplification. “There’s four of those bastards up there; one on each corner. It looks like they are armed with some pretty high-powered artillery… assault rifles and s***.” Frankie shook his head slightly and glanced at Guardian. “Looks like I was right. There’s some serious kaka going down here, boy-oh. Looks like this might just be a big payday after all.”

The Mean Streets – Night City – 12:35am

Coyote nodded his agreement with Preacher, speaking softly, "Si. Preacherman's is right, man. Frackin' lot's loaded with them frackin' vids, man. Even got a frackin' gunner up frackin' top, man. Frack!" The hispanic's accent was thick.

Turning to Croaker, he continued, "So... what's the plan, Boss man?"

Getting up on the roof was easy, surprisingly easy in Frank's opinion - almost too easy. He'd learned it years and years ago, that life was never like that. Life was hard and only the strong (or well-off) survive. So he'd become strong.

First thing to do at an OP (as the big boys in the army called an observation point) was to locate an escape route, preferably two or more. Gladly there was one on the roof. The fire escape stairs were within reach.

There wasn't much to do then, but wait. Scribe had been right, something was going to happen or at least the Wild Things were ready and expecting action soon.

Four guards armed with assault rifles were certainly too much for Guardian to handle, especially at such a distance. His cyber-boosted eye with the scope and LowLite weren't of much use now. Sure he might be able to hit one, perhaps even drop someone without bodyarmor, but the fire power of the rifles would cut the bodyguard and his employer in pieces after one aimed shot.

Yes indeed, coming up had been a far better decision than walking gun in hand at the Hole's backdoor. But Frank wasn't being paid for good ideas, he was supposed to keep the media alive. Most of the times the two things were quite inseparable however.

Frank too a deep breath and prepared himself mentally for a long and wet wait.

OOC: Sorry about probable typos. I'm too tired to reread. Hopefully it all makes some sense.

As Croaker scanned the area before them he was gauging the distance between the three of them and the Hole. A lot of open space to cover especially across a pretty empty parking lot. Then Preacher and finally the Boosterganger Coyote spoke up.

“Su-eeee,” he began with a slow shake of his head, the rain pouring from the rim of his hat. “There’s some security o’er yonder. That there parkin’ lot’s got enough eyes on it t’ be a vidstar.”
"Yeah I was thinking the same thing, good eyes catching that roof top guy see anymore up there?"
Croaker waited a moment for Coyotes reply then gave out new orders.

"Ok crossing here is out we need to move South and then use the cover of the Buildings to move East to that gray Apt building. Its closer and we can stage from there. Ready, ok let’s move."
With that the three of them did head South.....

Jazzer was estatic at how easily it had actually been to rummage through the university’s database. Security was very evidently lacking once one had passed through those on the outside. Amateurs is what they were, those that were still learning the trade when he had become a pro at it. A p.o. box, interesting. If she had a p.o. box, then the post office should have a physical address for it. Backing out of the university’s system in the same manner that he had gotten in, Jazzer began to make his way down to the post office.

(Assuming the post office does indeed have an accessible system.)

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:35am
The rain made an effective screen causing vision to be limited to shapes and brief glimpses of illuminated bits of city block. For Croaker, the challenge to his vision could have been frustrating were it not for the obviously enhanced abilities of his companions. Coyote seemed to be the standard booster with augments and a curbside tongue while Preacher also appeared to have unnatural eyesight. This was something that would have to be utilized.

Croaker gave the orders, rolling around the side of the building and striking out down the puddle-infested sidewalk with Coyote and Preacher on either side. They hunched in the weather, water pouring off the brim of Preacher’s gunslinger hat like a miniature waterfall. Half a block to the south, they turned and jogged across the street insured by the darkness of a failed streetlamp. They were now a building south of the parking lot; the structure appearing to be a comic book shop with a few apartment floors overhead. The alley on the southern side of the building was narrow, allowing two people to walk side-by-side treading carefully as it was filled with junk. Cardboard boxes, broken crates, trash bags… it was all there and the rain was making it so that the odor that rose up from the filth was nearly unbearable.

They were nearly halfway through the alley when Preacher’s hand shot out stalling their progression. Both of the other men followed his gaze to a pile of slick-looking black trash bags, but couldn’t see what had caused him alarm. Then, submachine gun held forward, the urban cowboy moved forward a couple of steps while the two fellows behind him readied their weapons, unsure of what he was doing. Using his booted foot, Preacher kicked a bag aside revealing the bare, slightly gray and definitely dirty, leg of a woman all the way up to her hip. There were bruises about the thigh and it was obvious by the black tips of her toes that the body had been dead for a while.

“Though I walk through the valley…” Preacher muttered as he slowly stepped back. Bodies could be found in alleys, sewers, irrigation ditches, gullies, under overpasses, everywhere, but it was a little disturbing to find one none-the-less. It was obvious that this corpse had been stripped of anything valuable and the pelvic area had been torn apart as though something had been removed without a care for proper surgery.

Preacher’s right hand flew up to the brim of his hat, and then continued on to cross his chest. “Poor soul,” he whispered with a shake of his head. His hand continued inside his jacket to produce the corner of an old bible. He looked askance of Croaker with raised eyebrows barely visible within the shadow of his hat then shook his head. “Naw, ain’t got the time t’ perform no last rights.”

He was right. They were already pressing the envelope in taking this slight detour. Bullseye would likely be close to leaving the parking lot they’d met Spiff in and the crew that was going inside the Hole would be just as likely to be on their way. Leaving the corpse where they’d found it, the trio continued on to the end of the alley. Peering around the corner, Preacher gave a nod.

“All clear.”

Their new position was one building south of the gray apartment building Croaker had indicated they were heading for. The street upon which they found themselves now was the same street they’d initially driven while heading north past the Hole. It wasn’t particularly well-lit, but it did sport the occasional street light. The building they shouldered was a white brick, the stone near their position marked up with spray paint and stained. There were windows embedded in the cement with barred barriers between the glass and the street as well as street-level windows that started about shoulder-level. These, too, were barred and secured. From their position peering around the corner, the three men could make out the corner upon which the Hole resided and could see traffic clearly. Cars, trucks, buses, and vans all passed by. Though it was definitely not as active as it could have been, it was obvious to the three that there’d be no real break in the flow.

Ahead and to the left stood the entry stoop for the gray building Croaker had originally set his sights on. It was wide at nearly three meters and rose up a good meter to the door, providing two cement buttresses to protect the stair. The doors were inset within the brick, back from the small porch by about a meter as near as they could tell, and completely blocked from their vision by the east-facing wall of the building. A thin road ran between the apartment building by which they stood and the gray apartment building to the north. Though the road was barely big enough to allow two cars passage, there was enough space between the two buildings to equal at least thirty meters, if not more. Across the two lanes to the east and a bit kitty-corner to their position was a large tree set in a raised cement block that was easily a meter tall and two meters wide on all four sides. An iron fence surrounded the tree, but it was only half a meter high and was more decorative than functional. The building behind the tree was large and gray. It rose up six stories in the main portion with each jutting section to the north and south only being four stories high. This would be a higher security apartment building and to the north of it ran a private lane to the covered parking barely visible behind.

The building to the north of that was similar in function and more than likely in security. How the Wild Things managed to land their current residence was beyond imagination. These weren’t the slums, and the residents of these apartment buildings likely worked for corporations with enough influence that if they felt threatened an end could be put to their tomfoolery. The building on the corner east of the Hole was also an apartment building of equal height to the Hole. While there was no one walking the street at this time and in this weather other than the three edgerunners, the passing lights of moving vehicles kept the open sidewalk fairly well illuminated.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am

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The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:40am
It was time to move. Spiff, Peacekeeper, and Firewind had been tasked to gain access to the Hole in a bold plan that would put them in the face of danger relying solely on Spiff’s ability to convince the Wild Things they had information important enough for Stallion to take personal interest in while staying alive long enough to do so. Playing at the back of the fixer’s mind was the irrevocable facts that he’d warned the players in the Hole of pending trouble and it was just as likely that they’d view his arrival as a part of it, shooting them dead on sight as thanking him for the hook-up and offering him a beer. It was little comfort that Peacekeeper was there. The beautiful woman was definitely capable of plugging a few boosters, but when the numbers started growing there were only so many bullets and even enhanced as she obviously was, she couldn’t get everyone. Firewind seemed to know the front end of a pistol from the back, but he was a medic, not a gunslinger. All in all, as the trio began their walk along the sidewalk leading to the street that ran along the north face of the Hole, the atmosphere was filled with as much tension as rain.

How was Spiff going to approach the initial meeting? Was his contact, Elizabeth, really there? Doubts started to play across the usually cool fixer’s mind as he replayed the phone conversations he’d just held with the woman. There’d been noise in the background on her end, the sounds of music had been prominent as well as screaming and yelling, but not in a fearful way. It was more like there had been a party going on… a lot of noise, more than could have possibly been going on at the Hole… rock bands playing… the high-pitched squeak of audio feedback for a moment just before the conversation ended.

Thunder rolled overhead and an eighteen wheeler passed close by the curb spraying rainwater onto the cement of the sidewalk, cascading a heavy sheet of water over the lower legs of the medtech. The wind had picked up slightly and the rain was moving with a stinging force. They were just past the corner and heading east towards the Hole, two blocks to the west; it was a miserable night.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:45am

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Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:14pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Administration Building.
Like any large college campus Night City U was pretty much a self-sufficient city within the greater city surrounding it, but the government still ran the mail and a P.O. Box, though more than likely available on campus, was operated by the state government since the separation of the Californias from the United States in 2012. Jazzer had hit the campus on a couple of other occasions in the past and knew that the post would be handle through the Student Union building, so he packed it in, backed out of the administration building using his invisibility successfully to avoid the security guards once again. This run was definitely going better than his past two attempts tonight. His heart rate had even slowed back to normal.

Stepping into the fake air of the campus, the invisible mogwai jogged down the street to the north, past Thompson Hall with its peculiar plastic alloy shapes and architecture to a row of nicely rendered trees where each group of leaves moved individually, though sometimes passing through each other in impossibly physically limiting ways. Through the trees Jazzer spotted Knute Hall to his left (a park was across the street to his right where icons lounged, sun-bathed, and played Frisbee with their fake dogs). Then he was there, ducking across the lawn, underneath some of the swaying canopies, and to the side door of the Student Union.

Jazzer was immediately inundated by the scent of coffee, the sounds of laughter, and the low hum of talking. To his right stood the bookstore, a virtual representation that allowed students to order through a delivery service, or to purchase virtual renditions of the same items and never have to worry about the physical thing for a discount. Ahead of him a large atrium spread out with benches, chairs, and plenty of icons spending time getting to know one another, or just studying. It was into the bookstore that Jazzer went, and it was there that he found the post desk, behind which stood a very seductive-looking chrome rendition of a female post office employee, her blouse rendered particularly low. She stood behind a desk sorting mail that was more than likely emails. After studying her for a moment, Jazzer determined that she was an AI designated as the mail server.

The room was small with the desk taking up the majority of the western wall, behind which was a representation of further mail rooms and such, but Jazzer decided it was just an illusion and he wouldn’t be able to access those. The north and east walls were covered with small silver boxes marked by bronze nameplates bearing numbers and a keyhole designed to accept microchipped keys. The southern wall bore the door through which Jazzer had moved his invisible self.

Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:15pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Student Union/Bookstore.

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The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to the Hole – 12:35pm
The two men lay on the roof soaked through as the weather seemed to take a turn for the worse, if possible. DigitalScribe shivered against the chill that had set in and focused on scanning the Hole for any sign of something newsworthy. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was something here, the itch in his gut was like a rat gnawing away at his insides and despite not having any action going on right now, his heart was racing. The wet around him didn’t continue on to his mouth with the anticipation of what was happening; Frankie’s mouth was as dry as a sun bleached bone in the Sahara. Beside him, Guardian hadn’t said a word for the duration.

Where was Croaker? Frankie glanced out towards the street, then back over the edge towards the parking lot. The nomad was nowhere to be seen and it confused the media just a bit. He knew Croaker well enough to know that the man wouldn’t give up, and the trail to the Hole was pretty glaring; so where was he?

“Any sign of my friends?” DigitalScribe raised the question in a hushed tone, turning to look at Guardian in the process, his shoulder-mounted camera following his gaze, though the small red light on the underside told the bodyguard that it wasn’t recording.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to The Hole – 12:48am

As Croaker, Coyote and Preacher having finally gained the side of the building closet to the gray apt building after their somewhat time consuming detour took a quick break Croaker took in their new surroundings.

The three’s new position was one building south of the gray apartment building that he had indicated they were heading for. The street upon which they found themselves now was the same street they’d initially driven while heading north past the Hole. It wasn’t particularly well-lit, but it did sport the occasional street light. The building they shouldered was a white brick; the stone near their position marked up with spray paint and stained. There were windows embedded in the cement with barred barriers between the glass and the street as well as street-level windows that started about shoulder-level. These, too, were barred and secured. From their position peering around the corner, the three men could make out the corner upon which the Hole resided and could see traffic clearly. Cars, trucks, buses, and vans all passed by. Though it was definitely not as active as it could have been, it was obvious to the three that there’d be no real break in the flow.

Ahead and to the left stood the entry stoop for the gray building Croaker had originally set his sights on. It was wide at nearly three meters and rose up a good meter to the door, providing two cement buttresses to protect the stair. The doors were inset within the brick, back from the small porch by about a meter as near as they could tell, and completely blocked from their vision by the east-facing wall of the building. A thin road ran between the apartment building by which they stood and the gray apartment building to the north. Though the road was barely big enough to allow two cars passage, there was enough space between the two buildings to equal at least thirty meters, if not more. Across the two lanes to the east and a bit kitty-corner to their position was a large tree set in a raised cement block that was easily a meter tall and two meters wide on all four sides. An iron fence surrounded the tree, but it was only half a meter high and was more decorative than functional. The building behind the tree was large and gray. It rose up six stories in the main portion with each jutting section to the north and south only being four stories high. This would be a higher security apartment building and to the north of it ran a private lane to the covered parking barely visible behind.

The building to the north of that was similar in function and more than likely in security. How the Wild Things had managed to land their current residence was beyond Croaker’s imagination. These weren’t the slums, and the residents of these apartment buildings likely worked for corporations with enough influence that if they felt threatened an end could be put to their tomfoolery but to have gang bangers living next door to them these people must have somehow been paid off to keep quiet. Croaker knew without a doubt at that moment that something much more then a simple snatch and grab was at stake here.

The building on the corner east of the Hole was also an apartment building of equal height to the Hole. While there was no one walking the street at this time and in this weather other than the three Shadow runners, the passing lights of moving vehicles kept the open sidewalk fairly well illuminated.
This was not what he had hoped for at all with the well lighted street before them and what appeared to be a good level of sec on the gray building and those surrounding getting someone onto a roof to take out the Wild Thing sniper/guards were looking damn slim. Croaker knew without getting rid of those guards trying to cross the street would be close to suicidal.
Turning to Coyote and Preacher he did the one thing he could think of

“Ok anyone got any good ideas as to how we take out the guards. Speak now, time is running out.”

He awaited any answers....

(OOC: Ok Brom as you can see it’s a short post just to get the game going again and I copied and pasted your description of the area we are in to add a little of Croakers impressions I hope you don’t mind my stealing )

He knew that Croaker was setting up for him at the hole, but he also knew, based on the reaction of those inside the hole to his phone call, that they had taken more than one location to defend it. Croaker's task, at this point, was only a prayer of help to the three of them. He'd have to approach as if Croaker had not been able to do anything, because Spiff knew that that might be precisely the case. As he took his last steps in this encounter, and possibly in his life... No, don't think like that. You have to keep a cool head if you want to get out of this alive. Think. He glanced up at the buildings around him, and the streets that passed by, using the little tiny bit of enhancement he had. He had to come up with a plan. He needed Peacekeeper and Firewind's help.

"Alright, gatos. Peacekeeper, you're the guns here. You're my only back-up plan if things get rough, and you can believe me I'll make damn sure you can help when they do." He glanced back at her, nonchalantly, "I need you to keep an eye out for snipers and unusual passers-by on the way. Anything that strikes you as even the slightest bit odd, bring it up immediately because it might save our lives. You don't need to be defending us right now, but we need to know who's where in case they turn threatening. If we start to get to the front entrance and we see two sniper rifles aimed in our direction, we know there's probably four and we need to make sure they're not going to open fire before we get to state our case." He spun his head to Firewind. "And you, Firewind. You're the observant one, and you look like," Spiff eyed him over again, "you're also only here in case things turn raw. I'm hoping they don't, but I need you watching out for unusual activity as well. I mean, if either of you see as much as a dumpster sliding in the rain water, I want the whole group to know it, and fast." He looked back at the long walk ahead. "If we want to get out of this alive, we can't afford any stupid mistakes because somebody wanted to keep quiet. I can probably get us past the first layer or two of guards, but even if I do, we have to come back out past them with a bird in our arms, and I can hardly hope that will be warmly welcomed."

He stepped steadily, breathing as calmly as he could, trying to maintain his casual demeanor for the other two. If this was the way back into politics, and Spiff knew it was, after all, this is how politicians act too, he'd pursue it to the end and back. He tried to take particular note of any objects that jutted out of adjacent buildings and, as he approached it, the hole itself. Even a fire escape, at this point, could provide a bit of extra help. Also, he checked cars passing them on the road. He glanced for anything obviously unusual about them. He got the distinct impression that the cars would come in handy later, if for nothing more than cover from the expected snipers.

As Jazzer stepped into the virtual post office, his gaze first went to the clerk behind the desk. He took a couple of precious moments to admire the handiwork of whoever it had been to do this particular AI icon. Now just if I could get a chick like that in the real world. It had been some time since he had a lady friend for the evening.

Taking his attention to the post office boxes, he looked them over to see if he could find the one that belonged to Merideth.

(If I find the one I am looking for, then I will try and use a jackhammer on it if it won’t draw attention to me.)

The water was getting everywhere. Guardian was pretty certain there wasn't a single spot on his body that was still dry. But hell, what could one expect lying at an open air OP in the middle of a heavy downpour. It didn't make a difference, not now.

Sure, there were chills running down his spine and his skin was covered in goosebumps, but he didn't even really notice it. Lying unmoving and observing the building ahead was all that mattered now. The wet clothes might become a problem later though. Should there be need to engage in combat with the gangers or take the quick route out, the clothes might slow Frankie and himself down. Then again, it would be the same for everyone else of course.

The four guards hadn't moved anywhere and no one else had caught the big bodyguard's attention either. But it was obvious to his trained eye that the Wild Things were waiting for something. It seemed to him as if they were expecting trouble down their way any second now.

Quiet movement at his side made Frank turn his head towards the Media. “Any sign of my friends?” DigitalScribe raised the question in a hushed tone and turned to look at Guardian in the process. The camera mounted on his shoulder followed his gaze, though the small red light on the underside told the bodyguard it wasn’t recording.

He shook his head in reply. "Nah, haven't seen your buddies yet, bro. I'll let you know when I do."

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am
“Ok anyone got any good ideas as to how we take out the guards. Speak now, time is running out.”

Preacher stared out at the wet streets and considered the improbably position he’d found himself in. The downpour was intimidating, the street was likely well-watched, and the task Croaker had set for them seemed nigh unto impossible.

“What are you, O mighty mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the capstone to shouts of 'God bless it! God bless it!'” Preacher whispered the words under his breath before turning to look at Croaker and Coyote. “God will show us a way. Maybe we should jus’ work at getting’ closer. Might be that we have t’ worry ‘bout a gunfight from the ground up. Might be that the Almighty’ll reveal a differen’ option as we press in.”

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am

---

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:45am
"Alright, gatos. Peacekeeper, you're the guns here. You're my only back-up plan if things get rough, and you can believe me I'll make damn sure you can help when they do." He glanced back at her, nonchalantly, "I need you to keep an eye out for snipers and unusual passers-by on the way. Anything that strikes you as even the slightest bit odd, bring it up immediately because it might save our lives. You don't need to be defending us right now, but we need to know who's where in case they turn threatening. If we start to get to the front entrance and we see two sniper rifles aimed in our direction, we know there's probably four and we need to make sure they're not going to open fire before we get to state our case." He spun his head to Firewind. "And you, Firewind. You're the observant one, and you look like," Spiff eyed him over again, "you're also only here in case things turn raw. I'm hoping they don't, but I need you watching out for unusual activity as well. I mean, if either of you see as much as a dumpster sliding in the rain water, I want the whole group to know it, and fast." He looked back at the long walk ahead. "If we want to get out of this alive, we can't afford any stupid mistakes because somebody wanted to keep quiet. I can probably get us past the first layer or two of guards, but even if I do, we have to come back out past them with a bird in our arms, and I can hardly hope that will be warmly welcomed."

Peacekeeper acknowledged his speech with a silent nod. She was steeling herself for the inevitable. Undoubtedly their little trek into the heart of a gang’s home would end with lead flying and she needed nerves of steel in order to deal with it. She tried her best to go over every possible scenario knowing full well that doing such was near to impossible. Still, it kept her mind occupied while they ate up the pavement between them and impending doom.

They came upon the Hole all too quickly, and Peacekeeper scanned the building and its rooftops as they rounded the corner. Her eyes sought to penetrate the rain, and she frowned slightly as she was met with darkness and shadow, shapes backlit by the unwavering glow of the city and the occasional flash of distant lightning.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered as they reduced the distance between them and stoop to mere meters. “Can’t see a thing in this mix.”

The others weren’t much better off. Stepping to the door they were about to buzz the box when the door opened revealing a large man with his head shaved and three silver bars through the bridge of his nose. His ears were gauged with large steel hoops and his neck was a mess of colorful tattoos. He wore black leather in surplus with obvious Gibson armor plating on his jacket and pants. He carried a sleek black H&K MPK-11 slung over his shoulder and now trained on the three visitors. Behind him there were two others waiting and watching for an opportunity to open fire. These two were twins, long blonde hair in the style of a 1980’s hair metal band, studs on their black leather jackets and looking like they should be a part of a band more than boosters.

“Don’t look like much,” the first man snarled. “This what we was warned about? You the danger that Elizabeth called in?” He chuckled, his lip curling a bit with confidence borne by a mastery of the Streets and a finger on a trigger.

To Spiff’s right, Peacekeeper’s leather creaked as she tensed, ready to act while Firewind stood to his left and slightly behind.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:48am

---

Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:15pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Administration Building.
The boxes were numbered without names associated to them in plain sight. As the mogwai scanned them a sweet voice equal to that of a phone sex operator whispered in his ear.

“Can I help you?”

Turning, Jazzer found himself looking into the very seductive chrome eyes of the postal worker. There were faint pinpoints of soft, inviting green where the pupils would be and the height of the mogwai forced her to bend over revealing amble cleavage.

Meat Location: The Farris Family Inn – Night City – 10:15pm; The Net: Night City Grid – Night City University Net Campus/Student Union/Bookstore.

---

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to the Hole – 12:48pm
It was a brief glance to his left that gave Guardian the vision of the three passing individuals as they made their way around the front. Even through the rain, Guardian could tell the beauty of the woman. She walked with a purposeful gait, shrouded in leather made shiny from the rain. He’d never seen her before, but he’d heard of her. Anyone in the protection racket within Night City knew of Peacekeeper since it was likely they’d have to eventually protect some charge from her intentions. DigitalScribe had said she was among those he followed and such Guardian was positive that it was her. What’s more is that the rooftop guards on the street side were shifting, following the three’s progress.

The Mean Streets – Upper East Side - Night City/Rooftop next to The Hole – 12:48am

Croaker continued to watch the street before him as Preacher replaid to his question.

“God will show us a way. Maybe we should jus’ work at getting’ closer. Might be that we have t’ worry ‘bout a gunfight from the ground up. Might be that the Almighty’ll reveal a differen’ option as we press in.”

Lacking any better idea, Croaker decided that Preacher’s idea was better then nothing, but as for God watching over them Croaker being agnostic did not believe in the mythology of said superior being. Though not an aethist by any means Croaker believed more in the theory of Evolution then of a single creator, and would hold judgement until presented with undeniable proof of the all mighty.

“Ok Preacher your right sitting here is doing nobody any good” (Turning to Coyote)
“Coyote seems you’ve got good eyes tonight can ya get a bead on the Holes roof and see if you can pinpoint those guards again. Hopefully we can move past them and get across the street without getting seen.”

As he awaited Coyote’s observations Croaker could not help in worring about sending Jaimy into the Lion’s Den alone and without him.
True she as Peacekeeper was the more experienced of any of them, but still he loved her and though he had, had little choice in sending her, yet he was not happy with it at all.
All he could do was hope that everything worked as he had planned and she, Spiff and Firewind could get inside and that he, Preacher and Coyote could get across the street to back them up when the call came. Even if the three of them made it across the street it would still be a waiting game on a clock quickly running out of time....

[This is posted in collaboration with Brom. Some of it is his words.]

"Hey!" Spiff smiled widely, stepping into the gangster's gun and spreading his arms out. As much as he could without making it noticeable, he tried to shift the gun sideways against his chest (without his arms, obviously) as he embraced the gang member.

"What's up man!" Spiff held him for a moment before letting go and started without hesitation. "I'm not your so-called danger. I'm your savior buddy. I was the one who tipped off Elizabeth." He smiled, motioning to the two behind him to move up next to him as he took a step to the side, trying to slip around the first gangster.

"You guys look like you did pretty nice preparing, but I didn't think it was all that smart letting those other guys leave. You need more cover on Queen Mary than that." He smiled, looking back at the two behind him.

The grin and bear hug delivered, Spiff felt the ganger tense up and then relax. Whether it was the statement that he was the one who'd tipped Elizabeth off, or the fixer's friendly demeanor, Spiff couldn't tell, but Mr. Bald and Pierced let his weapon slide to the side and took a step back allowing Spiff and his compatriots entrance into the Hole.

"You the gato that fed Elizabeth the data, huh?" The man glanced at Firewind and then took a good, long look at Peacekeeper, a slow smile spreading across his thick lips. "Brought some party favors, neh?"

"Party favors?" Spiff turned back to the gang banger, smiling and raised his left eyebrow quickly. "I suppose you could call them that." He chuckled and stepped past the first ganger guiding Peacekeeper and Firewind through the other two.

"Hey," He stopped, turning back to the first guard. "Where's Stallion? I wanted to introduce him to these two." He looked at the Peacekeeper briefly and then back at the gangster who had stared at her heavily. "Don't underestimate her, gato. She's more deadly than sexy. And him," Spiff pointed at Firewind, smiling still more. "He'll put your whole face back together if it gets blown off."

Looking back at the twins, he stifled a chuckle. "I figured you guys would appreciate the extra hand."