//What? no, I've been working for you for ages, even starting to think of you as friend rather than my boss. It just seems very odd that you don't want my business today? and how the hell did you get that, it was a thought, not a message?! I'm at Dick's sporting and hunting shop now as I'm pushed for time. Are you ok? Lv k x//
Flea rides up and secures her bike, dashing into the shop.
She walks over to a holo-terminal and begins to peruse through the goods, selecting one full SMG clip's (50 rounds for praetor) worth of Stick n Shock (405NY with clip), Laser sight (100NY), imaging scope with lowlight and vision mag (500) and a top up of 20 regular rounds for her machine pistol (20NY)
Flea stashes her purchases in the storage compartment under the seat, hops on and guns it to get home, swinging by the local stuffer shack en route to pick up a baseball cap and two bottles of wash-in-wash-out hair colour (auburn + blonde)
The limo had easily beaten her and was waiting in the visitor's parking bay next to the access lift in the underground car park. Flea parks her bike up in her spot, flashes the driver a wave and a gesture to let him know she'd be 2 minutes, and heads up to her room to grab her kit.
She dons her FFBA, grabs her 'work' 'link, sets wireless to "off" and enables skinlink, stuffing it into an inside pocket of her FFBA.
Flea pops up the loose floorboard in the bedroom and digs out the rest of her kit, sorting through what she will need for this run.
She clips the laser sight under the crusader's barrel and attaches her new scope along it's top rail. She tops up the magazine with her newly procured loose rounds and tests the loading mechanism a few times to check it's all a good fit before stuffing it into the concealable holster in her FFBA, and puts her gecko kit into the other pockets. Her knife is stored in her right leg compartment.
Realising she left the suits in the limo, she puts on her clothing over the top of her suit, setting the color to be different from this morning's attire.
Flea sets the soycaf machine running while she dies her hair auburn, sipping the steaming brew as her hair dries.
Flea grabs her backpack and attaches the praetor to the inside harness, puts both her grenades, a survival kit, her helmet, both jammers, tool kit, sequencer and autopicker into the main section.
Her microdrone and spare clips go into one side pocket along with her 'work' glasses. Into the other pocket goes the tag eraser, glass cutter and wire clippers. In the zip pocket inside go her loose rubber rounds.
As a precaution, flea runs the tag eraser over the faberge egg several times and stashes it back into the hidy-hole, making sure to cover it well.
Basically, taking everything but the grapple gun, rope and climbing harnesses.
Locking the door, Flea puts on the baseball cap, heads to the lift and with a deep breath and sense of nervousness climbs in and says to the driver,"I'm ready".
I can't believe I'm stupid enough to have taken this job..
"driver, how is my request for the mapsoft and linguasoft coming on? also, this large bag I have will need to be smuggled. The datachip informed me that you would be able to arrange that?
Resting back in the comfy seats, Flea helped herself to a sandwich from the minibar and another orange juice. Seeing the results from the Agent lifted her spirits slightly, at least she might figure out who they were working for..
Flea took the time to read each of the reports, word for word, feeling a little better for some proper food and drink inside her.