After you accept, she nods and begins her pitch:
Alright, here is the gist of the plot. A innocent person is being transported from the Metroplex Prison to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The vehicle is a Lone Star "Black Mariah" Ultra-Security Prisoner Transport Vehicle (USPTV). Besides the two LS officers in the USPTV, there are two escort cars with four people in each. One is a Lone Star Patrol car - regular schmuck. The other is a PCC security car. You can probably guess in which one the shaman is.
Johnson pauses just for a second, when a burst of laughter fills the Omnidome.
The convoy leaves late at night. For some background reasons (the writers will come up with something soon, I'm sure), the whole thing is being done in secret. Of course, explosions look better at night, and it rationalizes the I-5 being free enough for high-speed chases.
You have to admit, she somehow manages to sound captivating. And even the loud and intrusive trideo with it's clownish music and the laugh track is powerless in the fight for your attention. Maybe it's something about the cadence of her voice or the fact that she's paying you a hundred thousand nuyen. It's definitely not the eye-contact as she seems completely focused on the screen.
The protagonists yank the poor innocent soul free and keep the poor thing save and sound until there is an opportunity to reunite the unchained prisoner with his loving family. Of course, the family is happy to recompensate the runners for their trouble: after all, they kept their relative absolutely unharmed.
Like it always happens in trideo, the KE don't arrive in time to do anything. That would just bog the things down, wouldn't it?
As your Johnson slowly pulls out an old fashioned data chip from her pocket, she turns and smiles at Kachina: here is the chip with the technical details: shooting locations, vehicle characteristics, profiles of some of the stuntmen involved, thank kind of things.
Just before passing it to your shaman, she asks politely:
Do you have any questions?