[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:22 | DFW | Rio D's]

Nodding, Wraith asked, "Any particular members or faction of the Feathered that might have been involved with them? Leverage would be nice."

The decker opened an AR window and started working on a few search terms.

[rednblack]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:22 | DFW | Rio D's]

Nodding, Wraith asked, "Any particular members or faction of the Feathered that might have been involved with them? Leverage would be nice."

The decker opened an AR window and started working on a few search terms.

"Unfortunately, our information on the Feathered is rather scarce.  There was an unfortunate shootout between the yaks and the Feathered, where the yaks believed they were setting a trap, but the opposite turned out to be the case.  The Feathered had what we believe to be a particularly strong technomancer with them, one of the Putas de las Muerte, we believe.  If our belief that one of those four tipped off the Puta, or the Feathered, or both, that may be one avenue of exploration."

[Poindexter]

During the discussion of the details, Ian relaxes a little bit. He makes sure his crappy Meta-burner downloads all the files he was sent, then immediately copies them and messages them to himself before deleting them. He'll get em again on the more secure link, later on. Knowing he's most likely not going to be on the hook for planning and coordinating things, he thinks more about the money. Twelve thousand is quite a chunk. I could get a really nice agent program for that, or probably a decent used Spirit or a Jackrabbit or something. Maybe get a better jacket. Or you could start saving up for that muscle replacement you've always wanted. Pussy ass motherfucker. He's rather enjoying the feeling of being an indian, rather than the chief, so to speak, and he doesn't pay too much attention to the exact words and specifics of the conversation, figuring the bits that are important will be hammered out in detail when the group is alone. However, his focus is drawn sharply back to the conversation when he hears mention of a feared foe.

"The Feathered had what we believe to be a particularly strong technomancer with them, one of the Putas de las Muerte, we believe."

Ian focuses his eyes on the women at the table with him and straightens his black, thick rimmed eye-glasses. I should have guessed they'd be involved in this, somehow. Dammit. This is, afterall, the same Johnson, dealing with the same crews, having the same beef. Ok, I'm gonna get too damn visible if I stay on this thing for too much longer, so after this one, no more runs for Yaks or Azzies for a lil bit. The shaggy headed white man goes back to eating his steak, listening to the women at the table talk, and trying not to think about the sorts of crazy, world-hopping adventures that he and Dadlez would go on if they were madly in love with each other.

[rednblack]

As the conversation begins to wind down and the dishes have been cleared after the meal, the Johnson orders a bottle of Basil Hayden and proposes a toast.  "To dirty work cleanly done.."

She sips lightly on her bourbon and looks to the ceiling in contemplation before finishing her drink.  "My best, ladies and gentleman.  Ghost's speed.  I would offer you use of the room to continue planning," she says rising, "but I doubt you would take me up on the offer.  Still, if you would like, I do have the room reserved for another hour."

With that, she shakes each runner's hand in turn.  Her grasp is studied, firm but non-threatening, and she maintains eye contact throughout.  Almost subconsciously, she gives a slight bow before leaving the room, and the moment after, a slightly perplexed look crosses her face, and she hurries away.

[Poindexter]

As the conversation begins to wind down and the dishes have been cleared after the meal, the Johnson orders a bottle of Basil Hayden and proposes a toast.  "To dirty work cleanly done.."

Ian pours himself a drink of the exquisite potable and downs it along with Dadlez. "Here here." He fills his glass again and raises it, proposing another toast. "To love, war, and song; the only things worth making."

She sips lightly on her bourbon and looks to the ceiling in contemplation before finishing her drink.  "My best, ladies and gentleman.  Ghost's speed.  I would offer you use of the room to continue planning," she says rising, "but I doubt you would take me up on the offer.  Still, if you would like, I do have the room reserved for another hour."

The nerdy looking human gives her a sweet smile that seems to say, "Yeah, you know what you're talking about."

With that, she shakes each runner's hand in turn.  Her grasp is studied, firm but non-threatening, and she maintains eye contact throughout.  Almost subconsciously, she gives a slight bow before leaving the room, and the moment after, a slightly perplexed look crosses her face, and she hurries away.

Well, that was weird. He looks back and forth around the table with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone know what that was about?"

[SgtBoomCloud]

As the conversation begins to wind down and the dishes have been cleared after the meal, the Johnson orders a bottle of Basil Hayden and proposes a toast.  "To dirty work cleanly done.."

Ian pours himself a drink of the exquisite potable and downs it along with Dadlez. "Here here." He fills his glass again and raises it, proposing another toast. "To love, war, and song; the only things worth making."

Marissa joined in with the lifting of the glasses, a smirk permanently plastered on her face.  A full stomach, good beer, and a job using her talents.  Can't get better  "Ain't nothin' but a thing." The sunglassed human muttered in reply as she downed the fiery beverage, feeling it pleasantly burn her throat all the way down, leaving her feeling warm and good.  As the Johnson left, the Phoenix shook her hand firmly, gaze unwavering, though she tilted her head slightly upon their employer's strange exit.  It wasn't until the silence was broken that she did speak.

He looks back and forth around the table with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone know what that was about?"

"Damned if I knew.  If I were to judge, looked like she'd seen a ghost.  She bowed...going for a longshot, but what're the chances this lady be Yak connected?"  Shrugging, she set down the empty bourbon glass and picked up the remaining glass of beer, downing it.  "Uah....better question is, where to now?  Transport ain't an issue...just personal comfort, if you catch my drift."  The human eyed the other three curiously, seeing what their interested course of action was.

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:30 | DFW | Rio D's]

"Up to y'all. I already checked the Host to make sure there weren't any slaved listening devices in the room, so we should be somewhat safe if we want to stick around here to put together a game plan." Wraith's mirrored sunglasses had started to slide forward, so the decker pushed them back onto her head. "Seems like we need to do some legwork on these locations, probably some recon of the targets themselves to tease out patterns, and beat the bushes to learn more about these yahoos. I can get started on the matrix stuff tonight, but it's probably going to take some time."

[Jayde Moon]

In a tactical situation, Gabriella would be far more comfortable.  She's used to getting an Operation Order and then setting up the tactical plan.  Intel would cover all of the legwork.  She takes a moment to consider how she might be useful at this juncture.

"So, I know a guy who might be able to get us a bit of information.  A Lone Star detective.  I can give him a buzz.  I have my own questions, but what do you guys think I should ask?

"I can also hit the streets and try to determine pattern of life."

[Poindexter]

"Damned if I knew.  If I were to judge, looked like she'd seen a ghost.  She bowed...going for a longshot, but what're the chances this lady be Yak connected?" 

I'm nearly certain she's more than a little familiar with the Yaks. As well as my limited ability as a summoner, I'll have to bring this fact up, later on when we're not likely being listened in on. Ian makes a mental note, scratching his chin and thinking.

"Better question is, where to now?  Transport ain't an issue...just personal comfort, if you catch my drift." 

Still scratching his chin and staying quiet, he thinks to himself. I don't think I do, actually. Does she mean she's got transport covered or that she's got a safehouse covered? Or that she's SO well connected that she has both covered and we merely need to choose the comfort level? Just pretend you understand and you will, soon enough, dude. Luckily, Wraith answers her.

"Up to y'all. I already checked the Host to make sure there weren't any slaved listening devices in the room, so we should be somewhat safe if we want to stick around here to put together a game plan."

Ian raises a hopeful eyebrow. Does the decker know what she's doing? That's a good sign. He smiles a bit and asks, "Are you sure?" The idea of actually hanging out in this beautiful place for a short time longer is very appealing to Mister Hopeless. Especially considering I never actually saw her close out the tab... When La Sombra speaks up, he barely notices it, the wheels in his head already considering more immediate plans.

"So, I know a guy who might be able to get us a bit of information.  A Lone Star detective.  I can give him a buzz.  I have my own questions, but what do you guys think I should ask? I can also hit the streets and try to determine pattern of life."

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but if Wraith is right and we really ain't being listened to... Yall wanna talk about this over some desserts? I've heard that ice cream is really- I mean, I hear the ice cream here is really good." He feels his temperature rise a full degree at the near slip and desperately hopes no one caught on to it. You FUCKASS! You can't be admitting to a buncha cold blooded nova-ass murderer ladies like these that you aint never had ice cream before! They'll figure out who the fuck you are in a heartbeat! People like these sniff out weakness on others like mildew, dude! Shut the fuck up and do your fucking job!

[SgtBoomCloud]

Marissa glanced between the three as they each spoke in turn, nodding her head a bit as she listened...or at least looked like she was paying enough attention.  Much of the detail work went over her head...and unfortunately, she was getting the vibe this run was going to be intel-HEAVY.    Just my luck...okay  She felt fortunate that Wraith seemed to have more than a decent head on her shoulders...must come with the territory of decking.  La Sombre, tactical as ever, seemed to be already working out a plan.  When the man Hopeless piped up about ordering dessert, though, the Phoenix showed some expression, a single eyebrow raised followed by a slight smirk.

"Well, if that's how it's gonna be then..."  Taking off her glasses, the others would finally get a good look at her face, soft features complete with a set of piercing hazel-green eyes.  With a slumping motion, the lady plopped herself back into the chair, pushing it back and kicking her legs up, boots on the table nonchalantly.  Putting her hands behind her back, she gave a little shrug.  "As long as we're getting drek out of the way, I'll go ahead and admit the obvious: I ain't no local.  I know Yaks, but to me Feathered is just a name, and DFW is just a town.  I don't know too much, and my one contact nearby useful set me up with this job.  That's the bad news, now the good news!"

She grinned and set her feet down, leaning forward.  "What I lack in prior knowhow I can makeup for in problem solving....well, most of the time more like problem eliminating.  Regardless!  I know how to keep a sharp eye and a quick foot.  Learned quickly in this town that's a good thing.  You want me to check something out?  Point the way, I'll get your shtuff."  Nodding in confident affirmation, she eased back.  "Now, someone mentioned ice cream?"

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:30 | DFW | Rio D's]

Wraith frowned slightly when Hopeless questioned her statement. Sliding her mirrored sunglasses back down over her eyes, she curtly replied before slouching over, "Back in a sec, order me some ice cream."

>>Slipping into VR, Wraith's grey-cloaked persona appeared in the matrix. This time, she decided to search for hidden icons within the room, rather than those slaved to the Host. Casting a grey cloud of dust into the area, she watched the cloud as it settled focusing on any telltale signatures of hidden icons.

[Jayde Moon]

"I don't-- Ice Cream...?!"

Gabriella reined in her confusion quickly.  These people were so nonchalant about the situation at hand.  "Right, ice cream... I'm a vanilla girl, myself.  With caramel topping.  I'll give my guy a buzz."

She leans back and begins to craft a message.  >>Henry, it's Reyes.  Been a minute, I know.  Look, I've got something going on dealing with some local Yakuza types.  Wondering if you got any info you can send my way.  Especially looking for pattern of life, known associates, hideouts and boltholes.  And anything else you think would be useful for a successful op.  Can move some funds your way, cover investigative costs or whatever you wanna call it.  Or owe you something for next time.  Let me know.<<

She had met Detective Stokes while running a military op in Dallas.  Azzies had jumped the border and the unit had tracked them to Dallas.  She had run point on coordinating with the local Lone Star and Henry was heading up the case.  They'd developed a mutual respect, though it would be a stretch to say they were friends.

She read the message twice more before deciding she was happy with it.  She attached the names and a few bits of information she thought would help him help her and then she sent it.

Then, looking over the the comatose decker, she briefly considers ordering the oddest flavor of ice cream on the menu for her.  Her lip curls in a half smile before she decides against it.  Too early in the game for that, maybe.

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:30 | DFW | Rio D's]

Not even three seconds after her chin hit the top of her chest, Wraith's head popped back up. Glancing sidelong at Hopeless, she said, "So, like I said, the room is clear of listening devices. I think it's safe if we want to put together a plan. Quick question... does everyone have the commlinks they're going to be using for in-the-act communications here with them and currently turned on? I'd like to get a group contact list put together as soon as possible so we can keep in touch with each other if we do split to do some of this legwork. Also, if you have any critical gear that you need to run wireless and want protected, let me know. I should have some capacity to cover it with my deck."

[Poindexter]

Not even three seconds after her chin hit the top of her chest, Wraith's head popped back up. Glancing sidelong at Hopeless, she said, "So, like I said, the room is clear of listening devices. I think it's safe if we want to put together a plan. Quick question... does everyone have the commlinks they're going to be using for in-the-act communications here with them and currently turned on?"

"The one I'm running right now is a burner. I'd rather not turn on the real one till there's a bit more distance between us and the Johnson." A slight smirk. "There were some security issues on the last run I did for her." A shrug.

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 20:30 | DFW | Rio D's]

Wraith arched an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. "Well that doesn't sound auspicious. Just send the commcode to me later and I'll get it incorporated into a Contact List."