[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth flipped his Ruger Super Warhawk's cylinder into place, spun the pistol a few times around his finger, and then smoothly transitioned into the concealed holster in his jacket. K had given it to him in exchange for his customized Ares Crusader II. K needed an easily concealable automatic firearm with some stopping power, and Slobbertooth needed some more powerful firepower. Slobbertooth had already grown fond of his new hand-cannon after a few days at the firing range.

Looking up from his Ruger, Slobbertooth saw that the rest of the group had started to get out of the van. "Looks like it's showtime." Ruger quickly tried to catch up with bnc and Torrent. He wasn't worried about Torrent, but bnc needed to be reminded that you aren't supposed to look excited about a job during a negotiation for how much the job is going to pay.

[Jack_Spade]

The dwarven hostess was brimming with cheer and possibly an extra dose of long haul. She didn't seem to notice the suspicious composition of the group and their lack of evening wear. Instead she just directed the team towards the end of the patio. "Dr. Schmitt is waiting for you."

The team navigated through a maze of chairs, tables, plants and the occasional guest until they reached the water's edge.

Secluded from the rest of the restaurant, a man sat with the back towards the waterfront. His suit didn't follow the latest trend but was instead one of the timeless Armani models.
In comparison to his profile pic, he seemed to have lost some weight. His cheekbones were sharp and prominent and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of a recent series of all-nighters.

The smile seemed genuine as the four approached him.

"Good evening. I hope, I haven't called you away from other important business. Our mutual aquaintance insisted that you'd be able to make it without problems.
My Name is Dr. Gerhardt Schmitt." At these words he rose and gave each of the men firm hand shake. bnc received a kiss on the hand instead.
He took his place again and continued: "As you probably guessed, I'd like to acquire your services. But before we do business, please select a dish of your liking. It's on the company card."

[SgtBoomCloud]

Krestov gave a small nod in affirmation of the decision to lead the negotiation.  Another first.  No pressure, right?  He accepted the intel graciously, nodding to torrent.  "Spasibo (Russian), Thank you.  Let us be away".

Upon arrival, he was courteous enough to let the rest of the team pile out of the van before him, hopping out with a small thud, the suspension lifting two full inches upon his exit.  Shrugging his jacket about himself, he glanced at the type of attire most of the restaurant goers had.  He regretted not dressing more formally...but that being said, his size provided for a fairly limited wardrobe market.   He gave a polite nod to the dwarven waitress, his hands behind his back as they were led to the back.  Krestov stepped nimbly, surprisingly able to avoid bumping into anyone as they arrived at the Johnson's table.

He shook Schmitt's hand, squeezing the gentlest he could upon shaking it.  "Krestov.  A pleasure"  He said promptly for taking a seat.  Troll sized chair...huh, he does his homework.  Putting his hands together in front of him, elbows resting on the corner of the table he gave a nod.  "You are kind to offering this, Dr.  I am appreciate much."  Pulling up the menu, he thumbed through a few selections before deciding on a grilled salmon dish..troll sized, so more than likely a whole big salmon or at least two decently sized ones.  While doing so, he used the opportunity to throw bnc a text message.

<<@bnc (Krestov
<<I already know you're digging.  Don't try to deny it.    You think you find anything I can use, feel free to forward it to me.

Sending that off, he also hit the ARO to slave his gear to her PAN.  Not having a spendy Fairlight, a little extra protection wouldn't hurt.

[Volker]

"Well, maybe this guy intends to scare   snoopers away by showing them he's the baddest cat in the digital block.His corp is all about high tech  stuff.Milspec."

"No, he's just mucho grande wiz. Local grid's slow as an Austrian politician. Which is maddening if you want to do something - except if you have good gear. Like, say, a Fairlight. But it's brilliant if you don't want to be attacked, since any attacker has to wade through this sirup in order to strike. Jeez, I like that man before I ever met him. But no worries, I won't let out the giddy teenage girl."

And she doesn't. First thing, she flips her electrochromatic shirt into something more suitable: A salmon-coloured top shaded and coloured in a fashionable way. Only on the second glance you can see, that between these shades there is an amount of zeros and ones. Only on the third glance you can see that the shades of these shade-hidden zeros and ones form the words "Hello, World!". Only if you're a geek like bnc you would be able to analyse that the zeros and ones, de-compiled to characters, form the words: "If you can read this, I'll marry you."
Second, to make her hairstyle suite the salmon-coloured dress, she changes its colour to blond before she exits the car, and shapes it into a socially quite acceptable mane down her back and shoulders. This is the first time you see her wearing her hair not black, and might be the last for a considerable amount of time. She lets all her tattoes vanish, save for one small image of those kind of RFID tags you find on clothing or kitchen gear in a shop, storing an identification number by which the database can determine the price and other attributes, on the left side of her neck.
Then she enters.

"Good evening. I hope, I haven't called you away from other important business. Our mutual aquaintance insisted that you'd be able to make it without problems.
My Name is Dr. Gerhardt Schmitt." At these words he rose and gave each of the men firm hand shake. bnc received a kiss on the hand instead.
He took his place again and continued: "As you probably guessed, I'd like to acquire your services. But before we do business, please select a dish of your liking. It's on the company card."

"Guten Tag, Dr. Schmitt. Sehr angenehm," she greets him, praying to whatever gods there are that he's Austrian. Or at least Bavarian.

After his answer she flips through the menu, looking for lassi or yoghurt. In the meanwhile she responds to Krestov's message.
<<@Krestov>>
[bnc]I sure am. He claims to work for this company called 20kMUS. Torpedos and stuff. Joing-venture between Ares and friggin' SK. It's seen better times, though. Shares are going down recently. Officially they missed an important exhibition. Also, Dr. Schmitt, who I believe to be either Austrian or South German, has seen better times. Means he's in trouble. And he's got a lot of creds. That's basically it.

[Jack_Spade]

"Ah, Sie sprechen Deutsch? It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to meet someone from the old world. You are from Austria, aren't you? I am originally from Passau, but haven't been home for over ten years."
He winked. "But in the interest of keeping your companions within the loop, we probably should refrain from lapsing into old habits. Or do you all speak German? If yes, I apologize for presuming to much."

While he selected his own dish (Fettuccine with lemon sauce on salmon) he continued with the small talk:
"I've worked a few times as a Johnson for different companies and I've always found that directness and honesty is the best policy to grease the wheels of a good working relationship. You probably have already canvased our surroundings and found no direct backup. At least I hope so, because I didn't bring any and since I asked your fixer explicitly for professional and sane talent, I shouldn't. There are certain types of people who interpret an apology as an admission of weakness. I have buried a lot of those - mainly because they tried to blackmail me personally.

But please do not take this as a threat - I just want to avoid misunderstandings and since I presume you to be professionals this shouldn't even become an issue. 

So if you don't mind me asking, how long have you all been in the business?"

[Volker]

bnc orders Indian lassi and a lemon soda.

"Yes, indeed. I'm from Linz. Unfortunately, my friends don't. English appears to be the lingua franca here."

bnc follows his words and finds her respect in Dr. Schmitt confirmed. She leaves the talking to Krestov, however, glad for an excuse to hide her embarrasment over his question. Erm. Couples of weeks. Why?

In the meanwhile, she lazily flips through the visible files of his commlink. She found it was always interesting what you could find in a 'link. And what you couldn't.

[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth looked at the menu, drool forming along his tusks. Anything we want, eh? I'll make sure to get enough that I'll have leftovers, then. " After a few minutes of reading, distracted from the conversation happening before him, Slobbertooth made his decision. "Troll-sized northern pike stew, with a soykaf to drink, for me."


Slobbertooth was able to refocus on the task at hand in time to hear Dr. Schmitt's question about their experience. "I can't speak for others, but this has been my source of income for over half a decade."

[Sabato Kuroi]

Why the fuck do you care? You a life insurance broker?

Torrent answered whithout taking his eyes off  the food  catalogue, giving a random number

"Three and a half years."

[Volker]

What you couldn't proved to be quite interesting indeed. bnc tries to hide her slightly alarmed expression behind flipping through the menu once more.

<<@Krestov>>
[bnc]Careful, buddy. He's hiding something from us, and he puts a lot of effort in doing so. I actually guess he might not even come from 20kMUS. Leave us backdoors. This man is intelligent, and he knows how to play the game. I'm trying to find out more, but while we're here my possibilities are limited.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Krestov tilted his head a little at the question, his expression remaining decidedly neutral at Dr. Schmitt's question.  That being said, he had little to hide, and let the rounds of answers happen before he spoke his piece.  "I am not stranger to the shadow, this is true.  But that is not relevant.  A Johnson knows that it is skill that is value before experience, da?  Every person here earned right to be on team.  That, and the word from contact which giving our name to you should be proving enough that we are capable.

With no regard, it is certain our..how you say...reputation arrived before?  With our talents, you sure to have need of some serious ability.  If I may ask, Dr. Schmidt, if we are to be open and direct, what is nature of our hiring?"

[Jack_Spade]

"Please, it wasn't meant as an offense. I do not doubt your abilities, otherwise we wouldn't have this particular conversation. I was merely curious how often you had to deal with my parent companies.

Oh well, seems as if we'll discuss business while we eat." He made a pause as a series of small drones delivered their food. Once everyone was served and had at least the chance to taste it, he continued: "I'll tell you a bit about my background.
I am a doctor of biotechnology with a specialization in life support and extreme environment adaption. I got my grounding with Saeder-Krupp and have been with them for all my life. About six years ago someone in the company decided it would be a wonderful thing to have a joint-venture with one of our biggest rivals, Ares Macro Technologies. The result was 20kMUS Marine Defense Technologies. I suspect the prime motivation was from the beginning industrial espionage as the company was at first stocked only with third tear research personal, headhunters and spys. Of course both companies soon realized that they wouldn't learn and produce anything of value if they didn't at least make some efforts. So about three years ago, I was loaned to 20kMUS together with a small cadre of other top researchers. We developed a few prototypes with breakthrough capability. Unfortunately, the fruits of our labor where stolen before we could present them. I suspect this was an insider job of someone who purposefully wants this joint-venture to end."

He paused to take a few bites from his quickly cooling meal:

"The attempt was insofar successful, as our stock price went down significantly, which to me is a signal that soon someone will try a hostile takeover, score all research, liquidate our assets and most of all, will force the valuable personal to sign some lifetime working contracts.

Now comes the rub: 20kMUS has one last ace in the hole. About 50 km off shore we have a secret underwater facility. The research there might save the joint-venture and vindicate our efforts. For me this means, I won't be shipped to some backwater corporate holding or worse - vanish into some internment think tank.

I have been invited to go to this facility to finalize my designs with the prototypes. I've been long enough in the game to know when someone lays a trap. But the bait of this particular trap is to good to pass up. If I said no, I can say my future with Saeder-Krupp goodbye. If I say yes, there is a high chance the facility will loose contact with the main office and all valuable personal will be secretly deported to Ares or SK, depending on who is behind the sabotage. It's a 50:50 chance, but since Ares has a lot more influence here, I'm inclined to think that it will be rather the former than the later.

For this meeting, I've taken every conceivable step to avoid being bugged, including a completely new wardrobe, commlink and a seat in a natural, noisy environment.

I went to this trouble because I can't risk that anyone from 20kMUS or Ares learns about what I want to do:
I want to hire you for two months to act as my ace in the hole. If you agree, you will secretly accompany me to this underwater facility and help me to get back out. There is a good chance that I am wrong and nothing will happen, but my feeling says otherwise.

Any questions so far?

[Volker]

bnc takes a tentative spoonful of her lassi then glances at it with suspicion. Her gaze wanders around, looking for the restroom, just in case she has to be quick.
"I do." She checks Krestov's face, not wanting to interrupt him. If there's no sign of objection, she goes on. "I understand that your commlink is a virgin so that you can't be traced, and I guess running on the public grid will just serve the same purpose. The greenery supports what you say and the information you can check within a minute confirms it as well. You're a smart player and you know how to play the game. You know the tricks and the backdoors. So, if you want this to be streng geheim, why do you a) post your true identity to the public, b) show your business card, confirming that you belong to the company you don't want to know about what you're doing, and c) turn on the high-security virgin 'link at all?
"Second, you said you don't want 20kMUS and Ares to find out. What about S-K? Do they know about this? Do you stand in contact with S-K?
"Third, do you have any personal enemies or any other reason to fear risking more than your job and reputation?"

[SgtBoomCloud]

Krestov was about to speak, but then stopped promptly as bnc piped in.  He eased back in his seat, enjoying a few bites of his salmon while the small human teen asked her questions, instead turning to his own thoughts.

A mid-long term bodyguard contract in an environment that prevents outside contact.  Wonderful.  That means we will need our own supplies, and not expect a refresh for that time.  The underwater situation will limit use of gunfire, but that personally means little to me...Slob might be the only one terribly inconvenienced by that situation.  But Bianca's right.  This is too cut and dry of an offer of the situation.  We must know more

Making a glance towards the others casually, he gave a light cough between bites, clearing his throat.  He had nothing to add: anyone who did their homework on the team would identify bnc as the most green, and this series of well-thought questions was a good way to prove her professionalism.

[SquirrelDude]

Slobbertooth enjoyed the stew while he listened to the offer. He quickly started doing the math on how much gear he was going to need for a job that would most likely require a trip to the whole on a log on the bottom of the sea.

I'm already at 2000 Nuyen and more for the damn smartlink I need for these guns. We'll need some wetsuits for when things go tits up. It'll be at 3000 nuyen to get this gun able to fire underwater. This job better be a damn good payday for this much trouble

[Jack_Spade]

Schmitt nodded slowly: "Good questions. Yes. To answer this you have to understand, that I undertook quite a bit of preparation. I've been going to this restaurant every free evening and business meeting for the last two months to establish a pattern that won't rise suspicion with any analysts. My new commlink was just a measure to ensure that no one had a chance yet to install any spy code. It also gave me the chance to befriend our hostess Clara and have her arrange this meeting, without it being obvious that you met me. Trying to hide my whereabouts would only draw suspicion. Instead I've opted to generate as much useless data as possible. To facilitate that, I've been holding hiring interviews for a new team member for about a week now.

S-K doesn't officially acknowledge this situation. That means there are no written documents about this. I do have one trusted contact within S-K that will arrange my repatriation. Anything more would be to risky. You should know best, that spies are everywhere in the matrix and that the meta-human factor is the greatest weakness in any security measures. Point in case, just by configuring my commlink for comfort I've probably lowered its secureness by a considerable factor.

About Enemies: Yes, I do have some. Corporate environment does breed and encourage competitiveness. But what I fear most of all is being seen as a traitor to my parent company. I do have friends and family within S-K. Me being seen as a defector would tarnish their reputation as well. Last but not least, I do not like being pushed around. When I go, it's on my terms."

He took another few bites, than continued:

"There is another point that I haven't mentioned up until now and which I understand will be a hard sell. So please hear me out. The facility into which I want to bring you is top secret. I have agreed to absolute confidentiality. If you are there and nothing happens, my career will be in ruins. No matter how good your cover is, it would come out someday.

But I have a way around that: Suspended animation. As I've told you, I am an expert in biotechnology. One of my successful projects has been the design of underwater Valkyrie pods. An advanced autonomous expert system, commonly called an Autodoc, will induce an artificial hibernation and keep you alive and comfortable, stored away with my other tools, materials and specimen.

If nothing happens, you will be released after to months from a dreamless sleep and a mighty heap of Nuyen. If there is trouble, I'll send a coded signal to revive you within a secure container, where you'll find your gear, information on the facility and the latest status updates. Ideally I'll be there with you when you wake up.

Your renumeration will be paid in full into a trust account plus a security deposit. I won't be able to get the security deposit back without your cooperation. You'll also be able to vet the program of the Valkyrie pods yourself. As long as you are in those armored cocoons, you'll be safer than me. On a side note: Don't worry about having to go for a swim: We have the finest military gear any navy could wish for down there. In the worst case you could also just return to your pods. They are equipped with a Jonas Protocol and can transport you to the surface while handling the decompression. 

For those two months of service I am prepared to pay each of you 50.000 Nuyen with a 20% bonus in case of a real emergency.
As candy on top, I can provide you with some choice hardware: A set of five FN-AAL Gyrojet pistols and diving armor."