Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject:
X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, Frontline Apparel | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:28 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph 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)
Casino’s dour voice comes back over the radio. “Okay, we are up and moving. If our ‘homeless’ go active, you know what to do.”
“I have notified the police of your presence and uncooperative nature,” the AI hologram pleasantly explains. “Have a nice day.”
In his experience, Ghlahn estimates that cops may or may not show up in the Undercity and if they do, it will likely be upwards of ten minutes before they do. Shaking his head, the CEE-Metal sniper retrieves his rifle and adjusts his bag so that he can use it as a rest if he needs to shoot. There’s still foot traffic, so he must keep his rifle out of sight and, he always has to consider that whatever quarry he’s keeping an eye on has optics on him as well, so it’s best to look as harmless as possible.
~“Got the kid, second tent, Mendez is here. Fixer, Echo on me, Bloodbank continue cover watch. Ghlahn if this other team is here, they'll make a move within minutes of us moving with him. Stay on your feet, watch your six and ours."~
Casino’s voice in his pocket is a welcome report. Eyeballing the two figures across the way, the red-headed cyborg assesses the situation. Still no movement. Still nothing to indicate any interest whatsoever in their operation. Fanning his gaze out to the rest of the street, he narrows his eyes. Nothing. Nada. No unusual activity. Was this second team even on their heels or were they so far behind the game that they hadn’t even discovered where the object of their mission was?
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:30 AM PST)
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X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, 12th Alley | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:25 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph 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)
Standing nervously in the dank alley, his nostrils assaulted by the varying odors that drift by, Bloodbank keeps his back to the wall and his eyes shifting from potential to potential. It isn’t that he has a problem being alone or that he’s afraid; the medtech is keenly aware that there’s a second team in the wings. It’s all professional, sure. He may have even run with some of the edgers on that team at one point or another. Previous relationships matter not in this life. He can’t help but wonder if he’ll soon be in a firefight with an old acquaintance and the more he thinks about it, the more he personalizes it.
~ Casino has the package. Keep your head on a swivel. He wants Echo and Fixer to join him but for you to stay put. ~
As the words play across his optic HUD, Bloodbank feels a momentary heady emotion. Moving to better see the structure that Fixer and Echo have entered, Bloodbank awaits their appearance.
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:29 AM PST)
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Stepping into the main area, the two Edgers are met by an unexpected domestic scene. Directly in front of them a few meters into the bowels of the structure, are two elderly people seated at a makeshift table covered by a soiled tablecloth with lace hemming. The woman sits to the left of the man, and the man is facing the Edgers. His hand darts towards the sawed-off shotgun sitting on the table but hovers above it as Echo’s submachine gun levels on him.
“Be smart,” the nomad says in a low volume. “There’s no reason anyone has to get hurt.”
“What do you want?” asks the old man as he anxiously glances at his wife.
Sitting still, the woman appears resigned. She’s almost regal, like a queen who has been sentenced to the guillotine.
Fixer takes in the domestic scene in front of him and silently swears. This is not the right tent, but at least the guy is being smart and keeping his hand away from the shotgun. He looks towards Echo.
"Nobody needs to get hurt here. Nice little domestic. See if they know anything. If this one is cold, I'm popping out to move on." With that, he quickly moves back outside, listening carefully through his audio splice to see if he can catch a hint of anything from the other tent. He moves forward watching the shack to see if he can get any additional information—visual or auditory. He places his back to the structure he’d just been in. He doesn’t like doing it, knowing the sawed-off is in there, but he is pretty sure it won’t be aimed at him if something does happen. If need be, he can slice an entry into the canvas and go in that way.
Echo shakes her head as the techie quickly exits leaving her alone with the old couple. There had once been a hermit living in the Rockies right off the migration path that had a habit of stealing from Nomad camps. Three scouts from her tribe had gone to retrieve what was theirs. One came back. The hermit kept what he’d taken and the Elders decided the cost was way too great already to commit anyone further to retrieve the items. Since then, the beautiful young woman had never taken anyone for granted or assumed them docile. Fixer leaving her to fend for herself when he was supposed to be her wingman does not sit well with her.
“You seen a boy around here?” she hisses. “About nine years old, red hair?”
The couple share a look and the man turns back to the Nomad and shakes his head, “No ma’am, we have not.”
Clenching her jaw, Echo huffs through her nose and motions at them with the barrel of her submachine gun. “You both stay put.”
Backing up, she makes it to the short corridor exit and pauses, “I’ll give you a piece of unsolicited advice. Don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have much, but you’ve got more than some. I’d hate to see you lose it.”
Ducking down the entry, she breezes outside, cold mist striking the upper portion of her face. Looking down the alley, she spots Bloodbank still in position. Shaking her head, she hopes he understands her message. The medtech points towards the shake in front of him and jabs at it.
Jace is in that shack? Echo squints and shrugs, pointing towards him and the ramshackle abode they had already passed.
Frowning behind his battle mask, Bloodbank shakes his head in exasperation. We need to do something about this communication issue. Shooting a cautious glare towards the street, the edger mentally clears his range and then darts deeper into the alley so that he can easily line up with the shack Casino went into. Pointing emphatically at the last structure, he attempts to relay the message that had come up on his HUD.
“Casino has Jace,” he whispers, as though it will help.
Nodding, Echo hesitantly turns away from her teammate. Playin’ frackin’ charades, she grumbles to herself as she raises her precious weapon and advance.
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:30 AM PST)
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Standing outside of the tent, Fixer visually scans the end of the alleyway, his audio splice working overtime.
~ “Jace!” ~
~ “Don’t!” ~
~ “Get up and move over to me. We are leaving here and taking you home to your parents.” ~
~ “They aren’t his parents… I’m his mother.” ~
~ “Got the kid, second tent, Mendez is here. Fixer, Echo on me, Bloodbank continue ooverwatch. Ghlahn, if this other team is here, they'll make a move within minutes of us moving with him. Stay on your feet, watch your six and ours." ~
~ “Please, don’t take my son.” ~
Fixer can recognize Casino's voice with ease and the other must be Rya Mendez. Movement to his left catches the techie's eye and he swivels, ready to fire, but holds his action as Echo steps around the shack.
"I think Bloodbank wants us to go after Casino," she states in a hushed voice as she draws near. Then she remembers their previous discussion with Blossom about communications. "He's got an optic splice so maybe Blossom has sent him some intel."
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:30 AM PST)
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Sending the others into action, Casino ducks through the canvas entrance just inside the wood structure. The entry is clear with nothing to block his way and as he rounds the corner, the big solo is met by a surprised Rya Mendez who has spun about from the foot of a cot. Past her, just beginning a meal of kibble warmed on a camping burner, is Jace, his innocent face a little grimy and shocked.
“Jace!” Rya makes to spin towards the boy…
“Don’t!” With the HK clearly pointing at her face, he lines the red dot of the laser, smart linked with the SMG/grenade launcher in his hand on her forehead.
Mendez doesn’t stop. She practically flies to Jace’s side and any shooting at this point runs the risk of striking the boy. Casino likely could have shot her on the fly, but there’s always the risk of a misfire, no matter how skilled a man is. (OOC: I made the call here, but you’re free to correct the big man’s actions if you want, Tann.)
With Mendez wrapping herself around Jace, and the boy returning the hug, Casino coldly motions to the boy with the barrel of his weapon, wasting no time.
“Get up and move over to me. We are leaving here and taking you home to your parents.” Reaching into his pocket, his eyes still on the both of them, his finger caressing the trigger, Casino retrieves the radio.
“They aren’t his parents,” Rya fires back, spittle flying from her lips, the look of a cornered wild animal in her wide eyes. “I’m his mother.”
“Got the kid, second tent, Mendez is here. Fixer, Echo on me, Bloodbank continue overwatch. Ghlahn, if this other team is here, they'll make a move within minutes of us moving with him. Stay on your feet, watch your six and ours."
“Please,” Mendez tries again, “don’t take my son.”
Looking at the scene before him as he waits for the rest of the team, he knows his gut was right. In no way was this a rich kid kidnapping scenario as Starlight had shared with them and Santa—the big solo assumes—had made it out to be. Kinda sad really, Casino muses to himself. Unrequited love, bad parents, running away because he hates school, any number of sob stories could be behind the kid trying to disappear but in the end, Casino does not care. He and Vegas had been hired to get this kid back for the client and that's what he plans on doing. With Vegas being held—hopefully still alive—and a second-team on their ass over this kid, no matter the story, the boy is going back.
Most, a good 95% of people who know him, would say that Casino is a coldhearted bastard and they would be right most of the time. He could be very much the softie, though. F*** me, the big solo thinks, look at my feelings for Echo and her effect on me. Forcing those thoughts out of his head, in this moment that's all he can be, a stone, a coldhearted bastard. He only hopes he’d have no problem with the rest of the team when and if the kid’s sob story comes to light. No matter what, who, or even his current team, the boy is headed Starlight’s way.
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:30 AM PST)
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X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, 13th Street | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:21 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph 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)
Acting on his decision, Cred Stick Charlie pulls the Airjeep over and into the position he’d postulated the best, and settles her onto the ground. The notification alert on his agent sounds and the message displays across his optical splice as soon as he mentally allows it.
~ I’m being watched. - Blossom ~
Mr. Charlie reads the message and frowns. Gosh Darn it, he curses to himself and then messages back a song title from a time long past. ~ Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell, 1984... I get it. Let’s just hope that it’s not the elves looking to pick up any packages… or simply just cancel Christmas. ~
Jack... what are you up to? Thoughts fly as Charlie is tempted to throw up his drone but stays in the Airjeep. Now if I was Jack... what would I be doing to these idiots that can’t even “snatch up” a kid… Charlie nods in silence.
“Yup... kill them all and if so take an L.” Charlie follows up with another message to Blossom. ~ You know that we still might be able to run for it....  ~ But not take everyone, Charlie's thoughts rationalize. Can this old bucket carry the package and get us to safety? But on the other hand... Jack is still a threat. I need to figure this out before he hurt’s Starlight’s work.
Deals or no deals... Meh, Charlie's thoughts are racing as fast as his heart. Sending another message to Blossom that reads, ~ Think that you can create some distractions... just in case another group shows up? Like sending a description of said possible group to the PO PO as armed and dangerous in this area. That would buy us some time... hopefully. ~
~ The PO PO ain’t too concerned with Undercity, my fellow. I’m gonna shoot some false data past the Watcher. See what it kicks up. ~ Blossom’s message flows across his HUD.
Casino squelches the mic. ~ “Got the kid, second tent, Mendez here also, Fixer, Echo on me, Bloodbank continue cover watch. Ghlahn if this other team is here they'll make a move within minutes of us moving with him, stay on your feet, watch your six and ours." ~
Charlie messages Blossom with the update and then flares the AirJeep’s engine. The blowing fan begins to whir to life yet again and the fixer snatches up the radio, “Copy, clear. Over," Charlie signals.
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A command window hovers before her and within it, the beautiful netrunner is rapidly typing out code that pokes at packets but doesn’t waste time by penetrating. Agent datapacks flow past her, the tendril of code she’s produced licking their glowing surfaces. As quickly as the taste of data is recognized, Blossom has moved on to the next, the results of her search displaying in rapid succession beneath her command lines.
A mental nudge draws her attention to the massive digital representation of her Doberman, her Watchdog program. What is it Maru? she asks. Following the glowing eyes of the program, Blossom spots a spider avatar in the distance, and near to that grotesque eight-legged freak, is a wasp avatar. Hello there, Blossom muses, Who might you be?
A new line of code appears on her command line and the Doberman shifts and ripples, turning into a massive Hellhound. Let’s see what you want, the netrunner moves to the other side of the data highway and floats up above it, her program protector following with long, powerful strides in the digital nothingness. The arachnid and it’s hovering companion remain still.
Bringing up another window, Blossom activates her communication app and sends a message to Charlie, I’m being watched.
~ Somebody’s Watching Me - Rockwell, 1984... I get it. Let’s just hope that it’s not the elves looking to pick up any packages… or simply just cancel Christmas. ~
And what are the chances of that? The netrunner muses.
~ You know that we still might be able to run for it.... ~
You gotta be kidding me, Blossom bats the message away with the back of her hand sending it flying into degrading oblivion.
~ Think that you can create some distractions... just in case another group shows up? Like sending a description of the said possible group to the PO PO as armed and dangerous in this area. That would buy us some time... hopefully. ~
~ The PO PO ain’t too concerned with Undercity, my fellow. I’m gonna shoot some false data past the Watcher. See what it kicks up. ~ Blossom shoots back. The Watchers haven’t moved.
~ Casino’s got the kid. He wants Echo and Fixer on him, Bloodbank to stay put. ~
Quickly relaying the message to those with optic splices, Blossom focuses more intently on the icons. Let’s see if this kicks up your skirts. Typing up a simple fake message reading, “Package on the move. Regroup at the airport,” she shoots it to a temp message server.
Nothing, huh? Frowning, Blossom eyes the potential threat. What’s your purpose, my pretties?
(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:30 AM PST - 19th Street)
Posted on 2020-01-13 at 10:20:45.
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