As Casino watched Bloodbank and Fixer start to remove Jase and his 'Mother' from the van, the big solo with a small shock remembered something that they had already done, but should do once more before handing them both over to be sure.

"Fixer give them both a quick pat down, make sure they did not pick up something that could be used as a weapon from motel till here. No need for the other side to think us sloppy."

Things could go very badly if one or the other of the two 'packages' tried to attack Hairtech and his people with a weapon the group had missed and could be blamed for. No need to add yet more enemies to an already growing list.

X00054:8.Y00030:12.Z00032:25, Undercity, Waterside | South Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 10th, Day 4 (Monday), 09:04 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Very Windy, 25 mph winds from the West.) | Midcity (Windy, 13mph winds from the West.) | Undercity (Slight Wind, 5mph gusts from the West.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 35 | Undercity = 65 (masks required)

Hairtech looks past Charlie and Ghlahn with a stone-faced gaze. Then, in a matter-of-fact tone, he addresses the answer directly to Cred Stick Charlie. "A precautionary measure. I'm sure you understand. Now... let's put this contract to bed, shall we? The boy, please."

"Yes,” Luther readily accepts the explanation, “apologies to you and your staff. I wish no ill to you or to disrespect your corporation with any delay. As her subordinate, I will honor your wishes and not waste your credits nor time. We are not looking for a conflict of any type even though other’s actions might be construed in a different fashion. It’s just business and I understand this Suit Life. I hope that you will take these words into consideration if our paths ever are to cross again."

No smile this time... Luther understands that the suit is being very nice. We cut a deal and we are not honoring it. His patience was wearing thin with these games, the fixer concludes.

‘It’s just business.’ This isn’t the first time that he has used that phrase. Luther had hoped to be able to say, ‘It’s good business," but that didn't happen. Hairtech and his team are here for the boy, and whatever happens next depends on how the team puts this mess to bed. For some, emotions are very high. Those that want to make a mark in this shadowy world who are on the team will have to run under the radar. All present are likely some form of criminals even if they had no marks. This is why people come together to make a stand like in those old-time westerns. They’re forced into the life. It’s time to cowboy up. It is now or never, and the latter was the bad part. 

Suit types always have deep pockets, the best tools, toys, and tech. But despite all the luxuries, to Luther they are colder than any CEE-Metal. ‘It's just business…’ This is the part when the cavalry usually comes charging in, but there’s no cavalry here, no silver or gold spurs. Just the cold biting wind of reality.

A quick look behind him after catching Charlie’s words and Casino meets Bloodbank’s eye, "Ok, bring them out."

As Ghlahn stands watching, he hopes that they will indeed ‘put the exchange to bed’ quickly and before emotions get involved. He is never really good at judging emotions but experience tells him that on many occasions they turn a simple task into a complex one. The next few moments will likely decide who lives or dies, and he is hoping that the entire team falls into the latter category. As for the package, what happens to the boy and the lady is not his concern, but he hopes Hairtec is smart enough to at least wait until the meet is over and the teams go their separate ways before doing anything harmful.

Fixer watches Rya's arm not move, and not move, and not move, and not move. It is odd. The only reason he can see for it is if she is holding something. What can it be? He does not want to start anything. But he really doesn’t want her to start anything. 

Attempting to get a look at her hand, he tries to get a sense of what she might have (OOC: Awareness/Notice Check: 1d10+12=21).

At Casion's beckoning, Bloodbank nods to Jase and Rya, the latter stoically squaring her shoulders and calmly pushing Jase towards the door.

"Time to go," the medtech intones.

He exits first, offering a hand to the woman and boy as they move to get out. Shifting across the bench seat, Rya is forced to pull her hand out of her pocket and place it on the back of the seat where Fixer takes a good look at the emptiness it contains. Being ever vigilant, however, he does notice the slight, barely perceptible bulge approximately seven to eight centimeters in length and maybe a little more than half a centimeter in width in her pocket.

“Hold on,” the techie interrupts their exit before Rya can get out. Putting a hand on the woman’s forearm, Fixer looks her square in her wide eyes. “They only want the boy. He’s going back to a better life. You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not going to be separated from mi hijo ever again,” Rya says firmly though Fixer can hear her heart rate elevating. 

Staring at her a moment longer, he dips his head in a resigned nod. “Then tell me what’s in your pocket.”

Rya Mendez darts a gaze at Bloodbank before quickly looking back at James. “Nothing.”

“Give it to me,” Fixer holds out his hand.

Again, looking to the medic, she reluctantly fishes a Swiss Army Knife from her pants and places it in the techie’s hand. Pocketing the knife, James gives Bloodbank the all-clear.

Putting himself to the side and in front of Rya, Colin hopes that a body blocking their sights will discourage any sniper shots, and also that Rya won't take her chances on any of Bloodbank's teammates. Though it is holstered now, the combat medic keeps a steady hand at the ready as near his pistol as he can without being overt about it.

As Casino watches Bloodbank and Fixer start to remove Jase and his 'Mother' from the van, the big solo is given a small shock as the memory of something that they had already done once but should do again, before handing the package over gives him a mental jolt.

"Fixer,” Keith says softly through the vehicle, “give them both a quick pat-down. Make sure they did not pick up something that can be used as a weapon from the motel till here. No need for the other side to think us sloppy."

Things could go very badly if one or the other of the two 'packages' tried to attack Hairtech and his people with a weapon the group has missed and could be blamed for. No need to add yet more enemies to an already growing list.

Fixer quietly proceeds to follow the orders, coming up empty. Flanking Rya and Jase, the medtech and the techie walk the two up to where Ghlahn and Charlie stand.

“Come here, Jase,” Hairtech commands, his left hand held out to the boy.

“No,” the child throws back. “I want to be with my mom.”

Santa’s Ambassador devours Rya with a flat stare. “All right. Come with me and we’ll make arrangements for your mother.”

“No harm is to come to my boy,” Rya demands in a bold but shaky voice.

Hairtech remains unemotional. “Of course.”

Hesitating just a little, Rya pulls Jase in front of her and holds him by the shoulders. “Go with him. I’ll be along in a minute. Vamos, now.”

“But I don’t wa—”

“Jase, listen,” Rya pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m never leaving you again. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be with you always. I promise.

“Now,” she puts him at arm's length again and presses her lips together, water welling up in her eyes. “Go with the man. I’ve got to finish something up with these people here and then I’ll be right along.”

“You promise?” Jase is crying now but doing his best to maintain some decency. 

“I promise,” she squeezes his small frame again in a tight hug and then pushes him towards Hairtech. 

With a couple of glances back at the Latina woman, the boy, the object of the team’s whole mission, walks to Santa’s Ambassador’s side. 

“The money will be wired to your employer as soon as we are safely away from here,” Hairtech says to Charlie. “Your work is done.”

Turning away from the exchange, the man walks Jase back towards the limo. The ten-year-old boy continues to cast furtive looks back at Rya where she stands wringing her hands beneath her chin but he causes no trouble. Once he’s inside the stretch aerodyne and the doors are closed, the vehicle’s fans start up blowing dust everywhere as it lifts off.

Twisting about, the limo flies overhead and makes its way out of the enclosed warehouse block leaving the two ground cars and the team of executive security behind. Once the limo is out of sight, a sturdily-built black man steps up to Rya and puts his hand on her forehead.

She sobs once before the bullet from the man’s cybernetic gun ends her life.

(OOC: March 10th, Day 4 - Monday, Time is 09:08 AM PST - Undercity, Waterside X00054:8.Y00030:12.Z00032:25, South Night City Integrate.)

“The money will be wired to your employer as soon as we are safely away from here,” Hairtech says to Charlie. “Your work is done.”

Luther nods back, then turns away to walk calmly back to the van. 

Turning away from the exchange, the man walks Jase back towards the limo. The ten-year-old boy continues to cast furtive looks back at Rya where she stands wringing her hands beneath her chin but he causes no trouble. Once he’s inside the stretch aerodyne and the doors are closed, the vehicle’s fans start up blowing dust everywhere as it lifts off.

Twisting about, the limo flies overhead and makes its way out of the enclosed warehouse block leaving the two ground cars and the team of executive security behind. Once the limo is out of sight, a sturdily-built black man steps up to Rya and puts his hand on her forehead.

She sobs once before the bullet from the man’s cybernetic gun ends her life.

Fixer sat in the vehicle and thought about the pocketknife in his pocket.  He glanced over at Bloodbank.  He had no doubt where the Rya had gotten the knife. He understood the move, but it had been stupid on Bloodbank's part.  The woman might have done something dumb.  And that could have brought them all down.  And it would have been Bloodbank's fault.  He'd have to talk to him later, but it wasn't worth a dust up in front of everyone.  The motives were good at any rate. Probably more pure than for most of them.

He looked out the window at Rya's body lying on the concrete.  Stupid.  Everything about this thing was dumb.  He wanted to blame the kid.  Really it was the kids fault.  But the kid was ten.  What could you really blame on a ten year old kid?  Fairly blame on them.  He was just a scared kid.  But the kid's stupid run had just killed his mother.  And a lot of other people.  And Rya shouldn't have been here.  Not out of the car anyway.  She knew this was the likely result.  Fixer didn't feel guilty.  They'd had a job and there was no other reasonable choice.  He'd have made it if there had been.  But the result would just have been a lot more of them living in tents at the back ends of alleys or, more likely, not living in bloody heaps at the dark end of some dirty alley.  And now the kid was back where he started from, his Mom was dead, and a bunch of runners were dead of injured.  And that didn't even begin to count Vegas.  What category was he in?  No, the kid might only be 10, but his stupid run had put a lof of ugly crap in motion.  Just so he could flee a penthouse.  Stupid rich kid. 

Still, Fixer couldn't help but hope he found some peace and happiness.  "Poor little rich kid" was a cliche, but seemed to have some truth to it.  But there wasn't anything Fixer could do for him.  He glanced out the window at the body of the once and no-more mother.  He couldn't help her either.  He couldn't before and he sure-as-hell couldn't now.  Sometimes the world just sucked. 

Trying not to slide into gloom he looked around at the rest of the team.  They had been a good team.  "Ok guys, now we hope we get paid."   And here he paused and looked at Casino.  "And I think we have another job ahead of us.  Lets get away from here and talk."

The end of the trail Jace had set everyone's feet upon had not yet been reached.  How many more bodies would yet litter that pathway?

Ghalan watched the handover.  It went as expected.  The package was delivered and the terms of the contract met; payment was now just a formality.  It had gone much better than expected.  No blood was spilled in a rather tense situation.  Then it changed.  As Rya took a bullet to the forehead, Ghalan's respect for the professionalism of the sec team evaporated.  There was no reason for the killing.  His own professionalism kept him from retaliating and starting a firefight that would end in many deaths.  He did however ingraine the face of the shooter in his memory.  If he came across the individual again he would take the opportunity to even the score.  CREE may not have many feelings but that did not mean they did not recognize craven acts designed for shock value and to make a statement.  The shooter had no regard for life and hoped to intimidate the team by a show of reckless violence.  He failed to make the intended impression on Ghalan.  For now he would live, unaware that he was a walking deadman.  Ghalan turned and walked by to the vehicle and climed in.  "That went better and worse than expected.  If I see that coward again he will be dealt with appropriately.  Now was not the time or place.  Perhaps we can move on to finding Vegas."

Rya's execution was cleaner and quicker than Bloodbank had expected. He had seen his share of hits be carried out - most often on his operating table, where the bloody aftermath said more about the prejudice used than actually being there ever could. In a sick way, he was glad it was just a bullet to the brain; for all the trouble she had caused, the sec team could have done much worse.

That doesn't lighten the lead pit in his stomach, nonetheless.

Bloodbank waits until the big man is a few strides away from Rya before bending down and shutting her eyes. His fingers come away wet from the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry," is all he can offer before making his way back to the van.

All Casino could do was stand there, the sound of the cybernetic gun in his ears, the scene of Rya’s body on the ground, dead. Up until that moment all he had wanted to do was get this run over with and turn everything to rescuing Vegas. However things had changed. Moving from the cover of the van’s doorway he quickly lifted the SMG/Gren Launcher to his shoulder and fired off the H.E round loaded within it, followed by a full auto burst from the SMG quickly emptying the magazine.

Moving, cutting to his left, he quickly rammed a new clip home and resumed firing, this time in three round bursts. Gaining cover he loaded the second of his two H.E. rounds and launched it down field, scoring a direct hit on the last of the sec people left behind. The SMG/Gren launcher moved to his back, he pulled one of his two .44 Armalites, and moved slowly through the bodies giving each one a double tap of rounds to the forehead to be sure they were all dead……….

“If I see that coward again he will be dealt with appropriately”

This from Ghlahn, as the shooter climbed into the van, helped break Casino out of the images playing in his head and bring him back to the here and now. Catching Ghlahn’s eye in that moment, the big solo let the Cee Metal cyborg know he’d have company on that run, no questions asked.

”Ok guys now we hope we get paid and I think we have another job ahead of us. Let’s get away from here and talk.”

Fixer was the first to speak as Casino sat down. Putting his hand on Echo’s shoulder, he gave her gave her the head’s up to leave the meet site.

“Yeah we need a place, as Fixer said, to talk. However any place that knows my face or where I’m known to hang out is a no go. Vegas for sure if they truth-ed him gave up every single thing about me. From weapons, to what I eat this morning, to how I like my whiskey, to every spot I’d go to keep a low profile. Plus till and if we get this cash I’m broke so no help from me on a motel/hotel and I want to be moving as fast as we can on this. I don’t think if Vegas is still alive we can leave him in their hands yet another day.”

A pause to catch his breath…...

“As for the rest of you, Vegas may have known your street names, some of the weapons he saw you carrying and might have had a hint why you where recruited but beyond that I’m not sure what else he could have told them. However it’s for damn sure they will have already started a determined investigation to find out more on each of you. And please don’t lie to yourselves, they will tag who you all are in a matter of days, if they have not already.”

Turning to look at those he could easily see, trying to get some information into what they were thinking.

“So big question, anyone know a place, reasonably safe, where we can do a quick pause, talk and get a plan together.?"

Leaning back in the seat he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and as he waited for some idea’s forced the scene of Rya’s death from his brain…….

  "Well Casino, what kind of place would you not go?  That is where we need to go if you believe they will be watching your normal places."

"Well Casino, what kind of place would you not go?  That is where we need to go if you believe they will be watching your normal places."

“Simple solution we go to Rolling State controlled territory, hold up there, Blossom find's out who we are going up against, then we go from there. No outside security other then those allowed by my tribe, so we should be reasonably safe”

Not waiting for objections, Echo headed towards her tribes controlled part of the city.

"Hole up in Rolling State territory?  Did I hear that right?  No offense but I don't think they would be too welcoming to me.  You would all be taking a risk just being associated with my kind. I might have a better shot bunking with that sec team.  But, if you can vouch for my safety I am willing to give it a try.  Low profile time for me if we do it."

"Echo, Ghlahn has a point can you guarantee his safety? As much as I wish I could go at this alone and not drag you all, except maybe Ghlahn, into what could very well be a lost cause I need every single one of you, yes even you Charlie, to have any chance of getting Vegas back alive. And if he is already dead, then to kill every last bastard that had a hand in his death"

a long breath

"So again Echo can you keep him safe? or does anyone else have an idea. Bloodbank, Fixer, Charlie, any thoughts?"

"Hole up in Rolling State territory?  Did I hear that right?  No offense but I don't think they would be too welcoming to me.  You would all be taking a risk just being associated with my kind. I might have a better shot bunking with that sec team.  But, if you can vouch for my safety I am willing to give it a try.  Low profile time for me if we do it."

Charile had to chuckles for a while on that note.... 

" Yeah, you would be 100% more welcome with the suits than rolling state". Charile stopped chuckling and suggested " Lets just find the first place to hit, and chat. Dinner, library, or an old warehouse. People or no people, we aren't the only criminals out here, we are just the smaller ones, Those suits are the big guppies in this pond. Did you see a lot gear they had each? Geez". 

Let hit a nightclub, Noisey yes but maybe I can get the band to let us in for free.....  Only a few of us are really needed to plan things out. Really its up to you Casino, everyone wants to floor you then lead them but don't let your head or your heart get your team killed. Other than that... You choose, sure I'll follow you".

"Let's hit a nightclub, Noisey yes but maybe I can get the band to let us in for free..... Only a few of us are really needed to plan things out. Really its up to you Casino, everyone wants to floor you then lead them but don't let your head or your heart get your team killed. Other than that... You choose, sure I'll follow you".

"Ok Echo, you heard the man, first decent bar with more then one exit you see, pull in and we will talk there."

X00054:8.Y00030:12.Z00032:25, Undercity, Waterside | South Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 10th, Day 4 (Monday), 09:08 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Very Windy, 25 mph winds from the West.) | Midcity (Windy, 13mph winds from the West.) | Undercity (Slight Wind, 5mph gusts from the West.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 0 | Midcity = 35 | Undercity = 65 (masks required)

Finding a bar open at this time of day is no small task. Add in Echo's unfamiliarity with the area and she's entirely reliant on technology and her teammates. At Casino's request, she pulls out her agent and makes the inquiry using the parameters of "near me" and "open now" in her search. Not surprisingly, there's only one, and it is fifteen minutes away.

The Marlin's Ghost is one of those rare structures along the water's edge that has nothing above it or below it. The flat rectangular building is set on steel stilts that keep it approximately four meters above the lapping Pacific Ocean waves. Parking requires the use of a meter and the lot is strangely full.

Ground vehicles take up nearly every space. Most are rusted or in well-used condition and the ones that aren't are older. 

The ramp leading inside is in two parts with a small landing between and a long porch running along the north side of the building to the doors. A drab gray color, the vertical siding is broken up by far too few windows which are filled with holographic and neon signs of what's on tap.

As you draw close to the two beat-up black metal doors, the upbeat sounds of Mexican rock n' roll permeate the air. Stepping inside, you're met by an open floor plan with the lengthy bar right in the middle, tables filling the open floor, and the walls lined with booths.

Air conditioning units hum overhead where the ceiling is open to the industrial grade rafters, ductwork, and wiring. The lighting is dim and originates from the few single bulb lamps hanging a meter or so from the rafters.

The decor is a mix of Mexican and modern and includes a mechanical bull, a jukebox, and a stage for live music. Of the three, only the jukebox is in use. The tables, bar, and a good portion of the booths are all filled with dock workers judging by their clothing and gear. Some are lively in their conversations adding to the noise pollution while others are nursing bears and meals with the look of the walking dead. A few look your way as you enter but no one's gaze lingers.

By pushing two of the small, square tables together, you are able to make enough room for everyone to sit together. When settled, an honest to goodness human being approaches, if somewhat hesitantly. 

She's young, maybe in her early twenties, and attractive with Latina coloring and features. Wearing a colorful western blouse and Jean's with cowgirl boots, she stops between Echo's and Casino's seats and hooks her thumbs in her belt loops. 

"Welcome to the Marlin's Ghost," she says with a lilting accent. "You want grill menus or just drinks? We got breakfast available but nothing fresh. With the Union strike there's not been a shipment of Fresh in a couple of weeks."

(OOC: March 10th, Day 4 - Monday, Time is 09:30 AM PST - Undercity, Waterside, The Marlin's Ghost X00000:2.Y00430:08.Z00000:00, South Night City Integrate.)

Fixer grabs a seat at the table.  The place makes him nervous, but right now it is probably more about him then it is about the place.  A sea-side dive for the hard-working shoremen.  It seemed so traditional.  Cannery Row and what-not.  But as long as those sailers focused on their chowder he was ok with it.  He'd started quietly looking around for any sign of listening devices when the waitress appeared.  She was cute and the boots actually brought a smile to Fixer's face. 

"I'll take a menu," he said and quickly perused the sheet and ordered.  Nothing complicated, nothing fresh.  But food. 

That done, he finished his quick scan for listening devices.  Why would there be any here?  To listen to sailors and dock-workers talk of ship-wrecks?  But he looked anyway.  Being hunted gave one certain habits.

When food had been ordered and delivered he looked at Casino and started things off with a simple, "Well?"