@profgast________
The sensor feed flickered into view in a VR terminal, just to the right of your main centre of view. turning up it's opacity, you could make out several large tent-looking structures on either side, the lights distorting the picture somewhat.
Thermo revealed several person sized heat signatures running down the hillside towards your position
@Lumen________
<<Right, sounds like a fuck up then. not much to work on there, maxwells will no doubt give 'im the 'eads up so club sounds like a no-go. We'll sort it. still, better be on time. Mick'll want a word.>>You hop off at the next stop and embark on a bit of a tour of central London tube stops before finally settling back into a seat on the Hammersmith and district line towards the south east.
Foot traffic was light through the station, none of the glamorous shopping sorts or tourists frequented your end of town, and it felt good popping back up into the weak afternoon daylight and catching a lungful of diesel exhaust fumes.
You had a couple of hours to kill before the expected grilling and The Three Tuns
nearby pub seemed like a decent option after that afternoon you'd had.
@Saithor__________
A grizzled looking bloke in a suit sat in a chair opposite, a cheaply suited guard stood off to his left.
He eyed you warily as he dragged on a large cigar, the embers falling onto the battered and tatty desk.
Gesturing with a scarred and pitted hand, he asked for the letter and spent what seemed like an age inspecting the seal before opening it.
The guard was on edge, staring at you, his hand hovering precariously near the opening of his suit jacket and the atmosphere was tense, broken suddenly by Valjenov's deep booming laugh.
Ha ha ha, fool boy. He make shit bargain. Good for me. I sign.He gestured for a pen and a lighter, signing the letter and reforming the old style wax seal before handing it back to you.
Do not open. You do, you die. hahaHe smiled a toothless smile at you and waved you away with a disinterested look, picking up the tab end of his cigar from the ashtray on the knackered desk.
@Zwei______
Bex resistance roll:
9d6.hits(5)=2
She wins, turns down your offerLook, meal ticket or not, its just a scratch. I'll be fine. Really. I've got shit to do anyway.She looked a bit downcast, clearly having had a bad week so far. She passed you a credstik and stood to leave.
VR call tonight at 10pm, I'll pm you the meet details. More work on the horizon so don't let me down.
Send my regards to your mother.She walked out of the canteen having left most of the soycaf you'd bought.
In her place walked in a gaggle of junior docs swarming around what must have been the surgical lead or some other head-shed of surgery. They were all in their blues and excitedly chatting about some new study or other.