[saithor]

"He said he's a takeout man, so you may be out of luck Solo." Hallucination said dryly "Besides, considering how desperate that other group was to get the family, getting inebriated may not be the smartest move. Unless you like fighting drunk."

[gilga]

"Common Hallucination... we were ambushed by an elite cooperate force, geeked a mage and crushed a copper over Soho... I lost my expensive toys after less then a second of action but we all made it out in one piece. I think we are entitled to at least a beer.  Come wizard, lets drink and do stuff we'll regret tomorrow. " They smiled at her.

Solo looked distance for a moent, he was still struggling to contain M.
"Stuff we'll regret  tomorrow ? really M you are something special... "

"Why isn't she hot?" Said M.
"I am in a relationship... remember Tammie."

"You just moved to It's complicated when you *channeled* me" 
" I am sorry I *channeled* you... I thought I make the calls..."

"You do... you do but I get to sneak a sentence here and there... don't like it I can go back to the metaplanes... mr I don't want to fool around wizard"

"I don't ever want to be alone M, please stay."

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:55, Docklands]

A spirit watching his house! He'd have to deal with that later.

Al grabbed his mattress off the floor, glanced at the sweat-stained sheets and then considered the mildew on the underside. Solved the problem by tearing the sheet off, then hauled it into the spare room and flopped it down. Went back and grabbed the mound of blankets Spike slept on, and amid mournful whines piled them in a corner of his new guests' quarters. Two seconds later and he'd swept his cards off the beer table and dragged it and two floor cushions in to complete the furnishings. All that was left in his room were some piles of dirty clothes, his trid, and ashtrays. But what else, really, did he need.

He stepped quickly into the en suite and ran the water in the tap and shower for a moment to get the brown out, then growled down in his most cordial sandpaper bark: "Math Family Robinson, yer treehouse awaits."

Hostly duties fulfilled, he trotted down and caught the end of the newly arrived Solo's conversation with Hallucination. Women. "Now li'l darlin'," he began a he hauled on a chain that hung from the dock rail into the chill black water, "there's a whole wide world o' difference between inebriated an' pleasantly drunk." He reached the end of the chain and a cooler broke the water's surface. Dragging up onto the concrete floor, he popped the lid to reveal a full stock of cheap beer.

"Fridge done broke, ain't had time ta fix 'er."

[Aria]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~01:56, Central London somewhere]

"Um, jist ta be clear here, Doc, you referrin' ta the prodigious powers of yer noodle, or you carryin' somethin' up there of a more digital nature?"

“Er, no, I hold the digital keys to my research in here.  Not the data itself of course, but the access codes…”

From Tobbis’ vantage in the matrix the comms chatter between the surviving opposition team members represents a wealth of information, although none that would particularly compromise their employer.  As soon as the chopper began its precipitous descent it was clear that they had no stomach left for this fight.  The reasons bandied back and forth are more to do with deniability than actual concern for dealing with the police and reinforce the suspicion that they are corporate backed, and a big one at that.

As the foe ghost away from the still flaming debris scattered in the street Tobbis traces them until…

<<This is hosed, go to Protocol 4, rendezvous in ten>> and with that all of the icons that were being tracked disappear from the local grid, from any grid, as they go dark to lose any unwanted marks that may be on their gear and prevent the inbound authorities from linking them to the scene…   

***

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

As the team reach out to their various contacts they settle in, those that have arrived, to the dubious comfort of Al’s garage.  The place smells of oil and other more noxious odours drifting off the Thames water, but it’s dry and nobody seems to have planted bombs in the ceiling!

<<Grant, that chopper crash in Soho. That really SK? Someone else? Had some investors lookin' at that area, gittin' nervous...any info be much appreciated.>>

  The reply is quicker than expected, it would seem there are others with sleeping habits similar to those of the runners

<<Mr Guthrie, good to hear from you!  Investors you say?  Well I’d advise them to stay away from the area for now, it has got the force in a right flap.  SK advised us it was their chopper and I can think of no reason for them to cover for anyone else.  Of course nobody is talking about the firefight that went down just beforehand, someone upstairs has squashed the investigation and that takes clout!>>

<<Bonnie, it's your favourite elf. Something happened in Soho not too long ago and I need to know who was there, more specifically a certain wagemage. As usual, we can discuss terms over dinner, my treat. -Love, M>>

There is a distinct yawn in the recorded message…

<<Mel?  I trust you weren’t involved in that chaos?  It’s going to be bad news, someone is stepping on the investigation and needless to say that implies a scary level of power.  Although there are unconfirmed reports of magical ability in the area I haven’t got access to the aborted investigation.  This one has black bag written all over it!  Stay safe and I look forward to our next dinner!>>

***
Sometime later…

>> Batman - This is /\/\491( ... I see in the news that there was this helicopter crush over Soho. I need a favor, can you discreetly snoop around this accident. Something smells bed, I need to know who is really involved - and what happened.  Can you check what the police knows. Not that crap for the news... as usual do a generous D and you can collect a favor next time you need someone of my caliber.

<<Bad?  This shit stinks!  I don’t care what the news is saying, the Met are saying even less.  SK were on the scene, they’ve publicly admitted as much, but this goes beyond corp politics, things may be different across the pond but here it takes more than a corp SIN to quash an investigation into corp malpractice.  This has blueblood influence if you ask me, somebody important in the establishment has an interest in this.  I can dig but that risks flagging attention in the wrong places.  This is going to be one big favour!  I’ll get back to you…>>

"Susi: Start teamwork search. Query: Firefight with downed helicopter. Of interest: Affiliation of mage at crime scene."

***

Now the team must decide their next step.  The doctor tentatively offers access to his Career Expander profile… the place where all this began it would seem…

***
_#23

[Jack_Spade]

Isaint was late, later than everyone else to the safe house. Once there he took a look around and vanished again. He returned shortly with a few packages and approached his gathered team mates:
"Got you some survival packages. Nothing fancy, just some basics for hygene, blankets and enough nutri bars to last a while."
He patted the Frenchman on the shoulder: "Sorry again about that whole falling out of a helicopter. Next time, I'll try to time it better."

He didn't participate in the dialog with the doctor but listened intently while he took his rifle and gun apart, cleaned and oiled where  appropriate and put it all together again. He also deactivated all his devices beside the agent cluster and hooked them up to the power grid to top off the batteries.

He finished his work and approached Al: "Nice place you've got here. But we should probably prepare the car for an immediate exit. It's only a matter of time before they find the doctor. If not by matrix then by magic - someones probably already set up a ritual circle somewhere or sent out some spirits to look for him. That also means we need to prepare another getaway car. Do you know someone around here who could set us up with such a vehicle?"

[ScytheKnight]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

Snow Crash wanders around the safe house semi-aimlessly, the albino orc looking agitated and frequently casting glances at the doors while muttering softly to himself in Or'Zet. He looks startled when Al tosses him one of the beers, but recovers and catches it cleanly before easily cracking the can open with a tusk.

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

Al nodded thoughtfully in response to Isaint's query. "Well, that there Elite's a nice ride, an' ain't yet been used in anything hot. But since I'm currently runnin' onna worst case assumption that Art got compromised, an' since it were him arranged that car...what're ya thinkin'? Somethin' spacious an' nondescript like my shot-up Bulldog? Lemme make a call."

Sipping his beer without removing his cigarette from the corner of his mouth, he texted Chastity. Cars weren't really her thing, but she had fingers in a lot of pots. If she didn't hate him today, he was sure she could find them a clean van.

Then he went upstairs, handed his tag eraser to the son and told him to get to work on the whole family, showing him the AR instructions that came with the off-the-shelf model. And, just to be safe, he reminded him not to get it too close to his father's head.

Returning downstairs, he sat on the hood of the Toyota and asked, "So, anyone had a close look at this here Career Whatsis of the Doc's? Maybe give us a clue why SK an' some local chinless wonders or other is so innerested our guests?"

[gilga]

To Sarah: "Sorry about that... I have learned some new mojo trick and I am still struggling with it... you off course do not have to drink, I definitely need one after what we've been through... I usually do not shoot people."

Solo grabs a beer and begin drinking. To Isaint "I assume that whom ever is after us, know exactly where we are. These guys are professionals... I mean real professionals, what they lacked in personal talent they made up in discipline... runners are not disciplined, we are a large group of freedom loving criminals...

 if one of the devices we own was hacked they know where we are. No need for occult. We lack the discipline to truly disappear as such a large group. However... just a guess if they already lost so much money in a well executed ambush, killing none of us and causing mayham in the middle of Soho.  It may be cheaper to just pay us for the brilliant doctor - obviously we are hot and want make a sale and they probobly only care about their bottom line. Besides - if we do not make a sale soon we'll end up in jail... I am too good looking for a small cell - I think we should sell and each go hide in his own hole. "

To Al - "That career website is what caused this mess int he first place... not that I am complaining... got to make a living ya'know if it wasn't messy Torrent wouldn't have called. Still we may want to organize an auction.

If we do not hear from Art we are free to make up our mind about what to do. We should sell to the highest bidder. We can let the family decide and offer some flexibility, as long as our interests are not totally conflicting.  His next employer should make economic sense for us. We got out of the ambush alright but these toys were freaking expensive... still they did their job as the bullets that took them down could have target any one of us."
 
He also texts his contact:

>> Batman --> /\/\491( Thanks for the tip. I'll get back to you about that suggestion. I am good on favors don't worry -  but i am not sure we are there yet.

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

"Auction, ya say? Could be one way ta shake the brush. Problem is, way that ambush went down, I ain't rightly sure those SK boys was innerested in gittin' the good doc much as they were in killin' 'im." Al turned and spat on the floor. Saeder-Krupp had killed his dogs and taken his sister's arm. "But from what our people is tellin' us, seems they play was backed by some local muckety-muck, old school connections an' so forth. How 'bout that swanky party y'all went to? What sorta folks ya run into there?"

[gilga]

Solo answers
"There were some very heavy NeoNet suits in there... "
He take another sip from the beer replaying the events of the night - back before all the gunfire when he thought it would go smoothly.

the hostess was a magical decker, sort of like me only a lot more powerful... The kind of power only Mega's have. She is a drake if it means anything to you. We were lucky to take Rachel out without conflict. I think we stole her from right under their nose. NeoNet probobly considered the wife 'extracted' already - and waited for an approval for the husband.

Mellisa helped a lot... she... um... *neutralized* their mage so he cannot assense me. I heard you were less sneaky with the doc, perhaps there are more than two mega's involved.

The people that ambushed us are SKers - god knows who hired us. 
SK and NeoNet is clearly in the mix. I agree that we should not sell the doc to SK tough... but if Art disappears... how about NeoNet? I think they wanted a live extraction. We can give their magical decker a call... "

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

Al's eyebrows rose at the mention of magical hackers and dragons. "Hoo-wee! That do sound like a shitstorm of a shindig. Yeah, commcodes're always good. Whaddaya say we hold off on any calls fer jist a bit, though, till we git a fuller picture. Evo angle's still worth checkin' out, since they was innerested from the git go. An' reckon once we come up with a tentative plan fer who ta talk to, we run it by the Doc. Did I mention it ain't jist him we got, but that he's got the access codes fer all his work locked in his noggin?"

As he spoke, Al was punching out a thank-you text to Grant: <<Much obliged, amigo. Hell, we hadn't even heard about a firefight. But they would have eventually, so this helps me get out ahead of it. Drinks on me next week.>>

Then, after checking for a response from Chastity, he glued his eyes to his Caliban's screen and started trying to make heads or tales of the good doctor's Career Expander account.

[Triskavanski]

[Tobbis -Thursday June 18th, 2076 - Al's Place - Current condition 0 Stun damage -
Tobbis finally woke up, rebooting his living persona and stretched coming out of his car as they finally got in. Removing his mask he sets it aside before looking around to the others. "Well that was all kinds of dreked up there. The bastards are crafty too, they've all gone dark the moment we escaped. And well, if it helps at all, I only need a few hours of rest a night, less than most. But I'll be completely out of it while I'm asleep. However, I've got some scripts I'll need to go over again to make sure are going to work for us in the future. "

36 posts worth add to sheet - 38th Post
So far Solo and Hal have cameras 8/10 cameras left in my possession.
Hal has a Datatap of mine

[gilga]

Solo is speaking about this stuff calmly, when it is his time to go he will go. He knows that he is a monster, at least was in the past. He'll just carry on running until he is either reach enough to retire or he dies. However, with his impulsive behaviour... he just expect dying some run in the (hopefully) far off future. Every gig is pushing the limit just a little bit until sometime the opposition will be the more skilled one.

"Well we can hold for a short while but with so many powerful people after this guy and so many of us - we cannot really hide. Y'know - got to cash our chips while we are ahead. We will be discovered again eventually.  About the codes - I'd expect no less of the doc, Rachel is a lucky women. He is not the kind to be unwillingly extracted he wants to be a millionaire and he will be... or die trying too.

I mean I don't know about the rest, but my services are too expensive for most runs. Art was willing to pay us a few millions just for the extraction job - whomever he represents seriously think the possible rewards justify this kind of wages."
He looks at Tobias and wishes him goodnight.
To Tobias: "Wifi dark you say? that's good news... they cannot follow us wifi dark. They need communication and stuff like that. Perhaps they decided to cut their losses atleast before their suits decide on the next step"

[adamu]

[Thursday June 18th, 2076, ~02:17, Al’s Safehouse, Docklands, London]

As Solo spoke, Al got a ping from Chastity. She had what he needed. He asked for it to be brought to them. He trusted her.

"Well, I hear what yer sayin' about wantin' ta make a buck. Hell, man's gotta work fer a livin', or he ain't no man at all. An' I hear what yer sayin' about the clock tickin'. Tell ya what, I jist find out we gon' git a sterile set of wheels - somethin' we can put the whole clan in, as of oh-seven-hunnerd today. So let's give ourselves till then to suss out the closest thing we can to a win-win fer us an' the family, and start reachin' out to buyers then."

He puffed on his cigarette. "Heaven knows ol' Al's as eager as anyone ta be rid o' this business, what with super-lizard in Germany an' some sort o' hacker drake...right...here...sheeee-it kemo sabe...That's Twinkle Fairy Dragon! Look baby, this the number you have fer yer magical hacker lady? Maybe also goes by the name o' eTher?"

[gilga]

Solo answers:
"Yes she does... friend of yours?" Al has some very extensive connections apparently.  Solo planned to get his hands on her assistant comcode -  and say something that exposes that he knows who The lady really is... it will  get her to call him... but if Al had her comcode already he can keep his deck offline and maybe even open a second beer.

A bit later he sits with the doctor... Name is Solo, "mind if I take a look at your career site? I know a thing or two about the matrix I may be able to give you some extra info as to who you are really talking to."