[adamu]

"Well shee-it, woman, why'n't ya jist say so inna first place? Could saved ol' Al a passle o' trouble makin' up coded messages about smokin' Winstons. As if I would ever smoke a damned Winston! Hang on a tick."

He muted the phone and said, "Ever'body mount up - meet's compromised an' London ain't safe...as if that's a news flash. I'm gittin' the details now, but we's out the door in sixty seconds. Someone call Isaint an' let 'im know ta avoid the park an' we'll scoop 'im up outbound."

Then he went back to Silk. "So tell eTher ta move the meet to the M40 service area - they's only one betwixt here an' there. We can be in Oxford in jist about ninety that way, if'n ya want a team that's half dead an' half beat ta shit. But be clear on one thing - this ain't a job no more. This is about a family o' four real life people here. So whatever it is you gotta say about the job bein' hosed an' me not knowin' it yet, well, this ain't the time ta be mysterious, toots. I ain't so much as gittin' behind the wheel till ya tells me ever'thin' I might need ta know ta help keep them safe."

[pistolgrip]

Jackhammer looked up at Al, but didn't say a word. He cracked his knuckles like he'd learned to do when he was young. It usually helped in otherwise challenging social settings.

[Aria]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~12:35, Ferndale Shelter, Ferndale Street, Docklands, London]
 
“Damn it Al, we don’t have time for a metaphysics lesson!  Alright, alright…” and her persona holds up its tiny arms conciliatorily “we’ll talk as you move.  I don’t know what your run is beyond the hints you’ve dropped and I really don’t want to know!  But I know you met Hecate, and she no doubt gave you a speech about the threads of fate?!  Well there’s some truth to that…there are those that bumble through life following the path woven for them in the Pattern, and there are those that change the Pattern simply by being.  I believe you are one of those…from the headaches Summer has been getting I suspect there’s at least one more of you nearby.  Couple that with the effect that London has as a meta place and the chaos has the potential to be unrivalled.
 
I work with, or perhaps for, a group that meddle in the strands of fate, probability, whatever you want to call it…hardly an exact science…much like Hecate’s troupe do although probably on a grander scale.  I can’t say much about the Conspiracy…but I know eTher has close ties to it and if they ask she will divert her plans.  Something about what you are doing in London has disrupted the paths that we have forseen.  I hope you can save your family, and I hope that the act of saving them won’t be the one that derails the plan further…and I know that won’t stop you doing what you have to do…just please, please get out of London, let’s at least minimise the effect…”
 
***
_#67
 

[adamu]

Al mostly stopped listening halfway through Silk's speech. But he took away three key points. First, the universe pretty much revolved around him. Which he'd already more than half suspected. No surprise there. Second, there was nothing in all their hippy-dippy prognostications that said they couldn't save the family, and that was the most important thing. Third, they need to get out of London lickety-goldurn-split.

He held up a hand. "Alrighty, long as ain't no specific threats to the family, I'll take ya at yer word an' sort the rest later. Jist keep me posted ya figure out who this 'one more' center o' the fate web feller is."

He ended the call. He felt like he'd been gut-punched. How long could he keep this runaround up? How long could the rest of them? They'd started out with, what, ten? Four left, though at least they knew Tobbin was still alive, which wa more than they could say for Solo, Smiley, Mel, and Nitro.

The medics had loaded up the girl, and that meant the family were all in. He shut the door so that he could talk to Frenchie and Jack.

He led with a tired sigh. "I won't double-talk you fellers. Turns out this tip ta move the meet, that weren't from no hard intel. Comes from some sorta divination magic, which is the devil's work if ever there was such a thing. Bitch of it is, though, reckon I trust these folks. They got a helluva track record, and done treated me right on more occasions than one. So I know this has just now happened real fast, but what I wanna do is take their advice, move the handoff outta town. The buyer's on board with it - she trusts these people too. End o' the day, our schedule's pushed back less than an hour. But you fellers've put it onna line fer this family same as ol' Al. An' hell, I know you've only even known me fer a coupla days. But I'm askin' ya, humbly an' respectfully, ta back this play. Whaddaya say, amigos?"

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint was walking through the park, feigning interest in the few sculptures of a bygone industrial golden age.
So far he had seen nothing suspicious. He called the team:
<<So far everything seems to be alright around here. What is the status at your end?>>

[pistolgrip]

Jackhammer glared at Al. He didn't know this guy very well, or any of them for that matter, but it seemed like he'd been calling a lot of the shots so far. And, coincidentally, so far things kept going from bad to worse. Now, when the job was about to be done, he was finding more reasons to push it back. Jackhammer was not expert on character, but it sure felt like this Al guy was playing some other angle. Still, this was his first "shadow run", and Al seemed to have his reasons. Jackhammer just sat in silence, waiting for the world to go by around him, biding his time. "This Al guy changes his mind one more time, I'll change it right back for him."

[Aria]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:00, Royal Victoria Park, London]

As Isaint walked through the park he felt the prickle of something wrong, but nothing he could put his finger on precisely…even a peak into the astral didn’t reveal anything unusual…the sun has emerged from behind the clouds and after the extended time underground it is a boon, but does little to settle the nerves.  The park is full of early summertime revellers without a care in the world…children scream in their play, harried mothers chasing after their brood, the elderly perambulate along in their own private world, and the odd jogger on a lunchtime break use the park to blow off the corporate cobwebs…

When Al’s call pulled him away he was glad enough to go but took every precaution to ensure he wasn’t tailed, using every ounce of tradecraft to obfuscate his destination…

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]

The end is almost in sight!  The rather battered group pulled off the motorway into the services in a ragged convoy, ensuring they weren’t bunched up together to present a tempting target.  The car park is moderately busy but a discrete ARO directed them to a point of the car park away from the services buildings where a waiting limo is idling, nestled amongst lesser vehicles…

A tall black man emerges and leans against the side of the vehicle and then a slip of a girl followed him out…

***
_#68

[Jack_Spade]

All in all it had been a quite harrowing couple of days, but now they were near the end of their journey - or at least Isaint hoped so. After receiving Al's message about the change of location for the meet, he hadn't bothered to call another taxi. Instead he had called his bike to him. After an inspection and a thorough matrix search through his Agent cluster for hidden RFID chips he had started his ride back to meet up again. Just to be sure he had also activated his jammer to stop whatever spying devices he had missed. He even had taken the time to look into the astral for any spirits or watchers that could be following.

Now that they really had reached the meeting place, his hand had automatically wandered under his coat to be close to his gun. His new drone had followed them with enough distance but was close enough to be here within 30 seconds if necessary. The rifle was assembled once more and he called on the team:
<<Hey, it will probably be best if we establish a perimeter. Jackhammer, I know you are a deft hand with that bow of yours. I've sent you an ARO. If you go into positon there, I can go here. With that overlapping field of fire we should be in a prime position to stop anyone crashing the party - or anyone who wants to misbehave.>>

Isaint took position and waited.

With suspicion and interest he watched as the girl emerged from the limo. 'Hopefully this new player won't turn out like our last one...'
But that thought promted him to take a short look into the astral...


Astral Perception: 8d6t5 5 [8d6t5=5, 6, 5, 6, 1, 1, 1, 6]



#198

[adamu]

Thanks to the ARO, which the others helpfully pointed out to Al, they were able to spot eTher's limo as soon as they entered the expansive parking area. Isaint had peeled away from them right away, as if they had never been together. Then, hearing Isaint coordinating with Jackhammer, he'd spotted a fairly blind spot along the treelined approach to the lot where he could slow down for the bowman to make a rolling dismount. Glancing back, however, he noticed the conflict on the huge ork's face. Al thought he knew at least part of what the huge ork was feeling.

"Hey amigo, think with yer head here, not yer heart. If there's one thing done become clear ta ol' Al over the last forty-eight, it's that you got a pertective streak a mile wide, an' that's been a lifesaver fer this fine family here. Hell, ya know I myself have been loathe ta leave they side. Thing is, though, stickin' with, well, we git hit again, all you can do is take the hits till the bad guys' ammo runs out, and folks we's dealin' with, that ain't gon' happen. Now I pray ta all the voodoo gods this goes smooth, but if'n it don't, well, only chance we got is ta hit them back harder'n they hit us. An' fer that, we need ya out there - cripes, ya been carryin' that bow 'round all this time an' we ain't even hardly got ta see ya use it."

He slowed down, using a speed bump as an excuse. "Now or never hombre. Besides, ain't there some ork brotherhood code, requires all o' y'all tuskers ta stick together?"

[pistolgrip]

Jackhammer listened to the scarred man in silence. For all his reservations, Al seemed like maybe he might want this deal to happen after all. As the car slowed, Jackhammer opened his mouth to speak, but a long pause followed. Then he stood up and exited the car, grabbing his bow as he walked away. He left only two words hanging in the air for Al to enjoy. "That's racist."

[adamu]

Al had been called a racist before. Quite a few times. Always to his bafflement, once just a couple of days ago by an old friend, and never by anyone he'd grown to respect as much as Jackhammer.

Glancing back at the doctor and his family with a questioning look, he found only looks of surprised disapproval. He weakly raised two scarred fingers in a peace sign and with a sheepish grin muttered "Love see no color." At which point even the supine Spike whined and covered his face with his paws.

Al resumed driving with a resigned shake of his head. Europeans.

Then he drove away from where eTher waited, nosing his way through the parking lot as if trying to find a good space, giving the two orks time to get into position. "Okay, folks, this is it. Frenchie an' I'll get out, an' hopefully a few seconds later we'll open the doors. Doc, you an' William'll have ta move Natasha. Second the doors open, unless ya hear otherwise, ya head straight into the limo." By the time they reported being in place, he had already headed back toward the hand-off point. He backed into a parking space that left the rear doors just a couple of meters from the limo. He took a final quick look around, mostly trusting the snipers to spot any trouble, said "Here goes nothin'," under his breath to the Frenchman, and opened his door.

[obidancer]

The Frenchman used the brief time at the clinic freshen up. Wash his face, get his suit straightened up, remove what he could of dirt and dust from the Argentum coat he got back from the Doc, and refilled the clips of his gun. He neatly folded his Chameleon Suit and put it back in his duffel bag. He didn't speak much during that time. IT mostly helped him to gather his nerves and strength back - refocus to face the dangers to come.

Al's speech got his full attention though. If "Destinty" decided to also be part of that mess, what could he do about it !? But for all he knew, he was dead a few months ago... maybe Destiny did have bigger plan. For him, for his companions. However, in most of the trids he watched, Destiny would throw the heroes straight into danger; when Al mentioned getting the Hell out of London, what not to like about this plan!

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]

He grinned at Jack's "Racist" reply, but gave a silent but heavy look at AL's response to it. European... He stopped the stare by putting on his aviator shades and tightening the tie on his collar.
The Frenchman showed Al his gun and armored coat.
No worries, l'ami. I'll cover the Family. Plus I'm kind of looking forward to see our Drake friend.

[Aria]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~13:45, Motorway Services, M40]
 
Much to Isaint’s disgust the creature that has emerged from the limo is showing its true form, a darcoform that stands taller than a troll, iridescent scales gleaming in the astral.  Although difficult to tell with something so alien he suspects it’s an adept of some sort.  The fact that his eyes tell him it’s a defenceless little girl parading in a stylish business suit does little to settle the antagonistic feelings…but the source of the negative emotion is external as his mentor shifts restlessly…
 
***
 
As Al and the Frenchman stepped down from the van eTher smiled warmly at them, with a quizzical look for the Frenchman…
 
“I enjoyed our dance, perhaps we can arrange another engagement where I am not dragged away so precipitously…but then that had something to do with you too, didn’t it?!”
 
The look from her bodyguard is less welcoming and the group suspect his embarrassment will take a while to live down.  With a faraway look in his eyes he evidently scans the group and the area, stopping sharply as, despite the distance, he catches Isaint’s eye and directs a spirit over to investigate… it would seem they are taking the family’s security seriously…
 
With another sharp gesture he indicates that all appears to be clear
 
“Please, will you allow the good doctor to step down?  Let us be away from here as quickly as possible…”
 
***
And with little more said the family are transferred to eTher’s limo.  It might have been nice to get some sort of acknowledgement for the group’s efforts in keeping them alive but they are clearly are numbed by their tumultuous experiences of the last few hours…
 
Upon verifying the doc’s identity eTher transfers the promised funds without quibble, and as suddenly, and anticlimactically as that, and the family are finally someone else’s responsibility…
 
The limo pulls smoothly away and two SUVs bearing NeoNet AROs move in fore and aft to bracket the precious cargo…and it is all over…right?
 
***
_#69
 
 
 
 

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint had donned his new Ruthenium Polymer Poncho behind some bushes, blending in. His rifle was ready but pointed downward at the moment so it would stay concealed. He couldn't see Jackhammer, but hoped that the Ork had found the indicated position.

His nerves were tense like steel cables. This was the moment they had been working for the last three days, loosing more than half the team in the process. He knew it wasn't over yet, but he couldn't help but drawing a early resume.
He had met Al - which in itself was probably enough of an adventure for most people. But a worthwhile one for sure. The odd old guy seemed to know god and the world. And despite his quirks he was a really solid fellow.
He had met - again - the Frenchman, but he seemed to be a changed man - and quite likable at that. Definitely a chance to exorcise some demons of his past if they ever got to get that drink together.
He had met Solo - a contact he really wanted to keep - provided the multitasker reappeared ever again. Another reason to go back to London Below.
He had met Jackhammer - a rather stoic man, but with a lot more staying power than all those flashy magic types. Definitely someone you wanted to watch your back.

He waited while his chummers and maybe even friends made the final move...
The appearance of the Drake touched a nerv, but he keept the gun down. The spirit that closed in on him didn't seem to be aggressive and in any case hadn't manifested, so Isaint just made himself ready to evade choose should it attack. It took a lot of will not to ignite the weapon focus.

And than the transfer was done.
Isaint couldn't relax. For all that had happened, now was the time for the earth to open up, an armada of attack helicopters to appear or a freaking dragon to make his appearance.
'Godspeed Doctor, godspeed.'

[pistolgrip]

Jackhammer was never great with computers, and in spite of Isaint's best efforts and digital aids, he couldn't seem to find a good crossfire location. He eventually just settled for "good enough", leaving his comm off so he couldn't be located by some hacker. Apparently magicians could still do it, but he didn't really know how to avoid that kind of attention, so he just held really still.
During the entire exchange, he kept an arrow half-drawn. With friendlies mixing it up with potential targets, he'd gone with a static arrow. But as the limo pulled away, it seemed like he wasn't going to need it. He packed it back in the quiver and put his bow away. He flipped on his comm and typed out a message.
<<@Al, Isaint, Frenchman - It's been great, but I'm taking off before someone else gets killed or worse. Besides that, I have both a lender and an employer who'll be looking for me. I don't know which one will be harder to buy off. Good luck to you, but do me a favor and lose my commcode.>>