[SgtBoomCloud]

"Hold your hoop, chump," the ork who had led Marissa to the alley says.  "'Fore you talk to Winton, Ima hafta pat you down."

He motions for Marissa to extend her arms, and begins the patdown.  The SMG comes off first, followed by the Warhawk and twin Predators.  One of the onlooking gangers gives a low whistle at the hardware, which gives way to general murmuring as the taser and collapsible staff comes off her person.  In the end, she's only left with the knife in her boot.

She's given the nod to approach, and Winton hops off his makeshift throne.  "So, you're the one gave my brother a hard time, eh?  Yeah.  Yeah, I can see that.  What I don't see, is why you'd need all that chrome to give a thirteen-year-old kid a hard time.

"I don't try and be unreasonable here, wiz?  Just make sure everyone is able to make some cred, do some trade, maybe hit a little shit every now and then.  And that's worked out real well for us down here.  This ain't no cutter turf.  The New World Soldiers know to stay the fuck off our blocks, and hell, even the Rangerovers know to stay on the highways round here. 

"And then there's you.  Dressing like that, armed like you're going to win back Austin single-handedly.  Shit, girl.  I'd much rather we be friends than otherwise, but I'll be damned if you ain't making it hard on me.  And my brother?  What the frag were you thinking?"

Just the knife.  Well, I got one weapon.  If things go sour, that's all I'll likely need, heh.  Luckily I don't plan on that  Marissa gave a little smile as Winton said his piece.  Giving a little shrug, the redhead made sure to keep her movements slow and easily trackable.  "Now you see, if I had known and been made aware of this set up, I woulda kept to myself and respectted the system.  I get you.  But riddle me this, omae.  If you had just moved into town for a beat, and some kid comes up to your ride and demands to take it under the claim it's a borrow job, what would you do?"

She gave a little sigh, putting her hands up behind her head and locking the fingers together.  "Before you start going off on me about your brother, I want you to think of something.  You've seen my hardware, and what I'm capable of, and that should tell you how much restraint I showed on your brother.  Now, you say you want to be friends.  I can work with that.  You won't be seeing any more trouble from me, assuming I don't get harassed unduly again, and we can live in peace until I move on again.  Plus, since you kinda get what I do, if I'm available for some work, I'd be willing to offer my services at a fair rate.  Think we can work this out without things getting ugly?  I rather like my face..."

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 23:00 | DFW | Wraith's Apartment]

Wraith read through the information La Sombre had sent. She mentally whistled in her head. This is some good stuff...

Filtering through it all, she started to build a condensed list of outstanding queries she needed to run.

<< Working File//Query Search...
<< Spirits Nightclub >>
<< Club Frisco (Employment Opportunities) >>
<< Club Frisco (Floor plan/Interior Photos) >>
...End File//Working File>>

Setting her files aside, the woman started to dig into the informant who had been ratting on Tezuka. If the team could identify and flip the person in question, it may lead to very valuable information indeed.

[rednblack]

@The Phoenix

"But riddle me this, omae.  If you had just moved into town for a beat, and some kid comes up to your ride and demands to take it under the claim it's a borrow job, what would you do?"

"Omae," Winton says, "I wouldn't find myself in that situation to begin with.  Like I said, this is my block, and I plan on living and dying here.  That said, if I was to find myself somewhere new, I think the first fraggin' thing I would do is see the man in charge, wiz?  And if that failed, sometimes the best way to not end up unarmed in front of a crew that'll take you apart piece by piece is to walk away when the walking's good."

"Before you start going off on me about your brother, I want you to think of something.  You've seen my hardware, and what I'm capable of, and that should tell you how much restraint I showed on your brother.

Winton cuts in, "Hold on, 'restraint?'  I don't think that word thinks what you think it means, chummer.  Leave us," the big ork adds to his friends.  The one who led Marissa into the alley looks uncomfortable with the suggestion, but he's unwilling to defy the boss, especially in front of an outsider, and he gives a whistle and leads the rest of the group away.

Winton lets Marissa finish.

"Now, you say you want to be friends.  I can work with that.  You won't be seeing any more trouble from me, assuming I don't get harassed unduly again, and we can live in peace until I move on again.  Plus, since you kinda get what I do, if I'm available for some work, I'd be willing to offer my services at a fair rate.  Think we can work this out without things getting ugly?  I rather like my face..."

Winton leans forward, and pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing.  "I'm a level with you.  I don't expect that we will see any further trouble with the likes of you.  And like you say, maybe we can help one another out sometime, and that drek goes both way,chummer.  This can be a good block for a working girl.  I got eyes and ears, a place or two to lay low, a little misdirection when the occasion warrants.  Hell, sometimes the boys go up the way and boost cars if you end up needing something with a little more heft than that rocket you got parked down the block. 

"And truth be told, that little brother of mine is a real pain in the hoop.  Had to stop myself from laughing in his ugly trog face when he told me what happened.  But you've got to understand that I can't let what you did slide.  I gotta tax you somehow.  You can catch a beating or three, and that'd get us just about square, but I think it'd be a lot better if you slid over 500¥ and between you and me I'll owe you one.  Don't let your pride get to you on this, omae.  Price of the streets.  Whaddya say?"

@Hopeless

Tammy stops Hopeless at the picture of Tezuka.  "Him I've met.  About a year ago I did a private party at this awful dive called Spirits, or something like that.  Anyway, it was a small party, about five guys, but they bussed in about twenty girls, mostly metas.  Reason I remember it is cause I've been there before, and the strip cub is on the third floor, but they set us up on the second, which was set up more like a warehouse, but they had screens blocking most of it off.  The work was not pleasant," she says breaking eye contact and looking down at the table.  "I wouldn't go back."

"That's probably not much help, I'm sorry.  I'll ask around, though, and ping you if anything turns up, wiz?"

After finishing with Tammy, Ian goes to snag Norway.  By the looks of him, he ended up finding some novacoke somewhere along the line, and he's in no mood to leave.  "Man, I had this place all wrong.  Fucking nova girls," he says downing the last of a bottle.  "Drek beer, though.  Hey, man, no need to bounce yet is there?  Next round's on me."

Ian ends up having to call a cab to get back home, and finds himself asleep before the mugginess of the apartment even registers to him.  He wakes up slightly after noon to the sound of an incoming call.  It appears Ms. Dadlez is reaching out again. 

"Mr. Hopeless," she says when he answers, as put together and decorous as ever.  "You're looking well.  I'm sorry to be bothering you, but after the complications from the last job, I've been reaching out for information on your team.  Two of them come highly recommended, but Wraith was a wild card, and not who I had asked for.  What I've found has been . . . problematic.  It seems that she is also known by the name 'Two-Timer' and has twice been the only surviving member of a team.  The most recent was a run against Northrop-Grumman, and by the accounts that I've read and verified, an HTR team was on the scene almost immediately, by which I mean within forty-five seconds of insertion.  As I'm sure you're aware, such a timeline is unrealistic at best and betrays collusion at worst. 

"That said, I am not personally convinced that Wraith, AKA Two-Timer was necessarily on the take.  For one, there was another run that same night that was easily able to take advantage of the HTR being tied up.  Most likely, either Two-Timer or the fixer were involved, and so I thought it best that I contact you."

[SgtBoomCloud]

Marissa thought long and hard at Winton's offer as he said his piece to her, keeping stock still where she stood, her hands kept loose at her side, feet stanced shoulder-width apart and ready.  At the end of his speaking, she gave a little exhale of breath, head tilting to one side as she took a few steps forward, keeping her hands clear as she got within touching distance of him, palms open and facing him.  Leaning forward as well, she let her voice go low so only he would hear.

"hard bargaining, but you aren't without your points, sirrah.  Consider this stunt a one-time demonstration of my ability that shall not be repeated.  We have an accord."  Stepping one step back, her left hand plucking out a credstick from one of her pockets, slotting it into her commlink and making the transfer of 500 nuyen into the stick, including her commcode with with.  "All yours...and before we get back to your cronies, I do have one question...you much in contact with the Feathered?  I ain't with em or against em, but I may be of a mind to buy some gear of theirs."

"In exchange for that...I'd hate to see the man in charge looking soft, so..."  Taking her fist, she took one step back before sending a solid backfist against her cheek, the smack of hand to face audible as it was followed by a direct uppercut to her opposite eye, the Phoenix staggering just a bit from the blow.  A little blood at her lip, it was clear the redhead would likely have a shiner for the day.  "The Phoenix respects this turf, and looks forward to our continued biz."  Tipping her hat, she waited for his response and for the all clear to retrieve her weapons.

[Poindexter]

"Him I've met.  About a year ago I did a private party at this awful dive called Spirits, or something like that.  Anyway, it was a small party, about five guys, but they bussed in about twenty girls, mostly metas.  Reason I remember it is cause I've been there before, and the strip cub is on the third floor, but they set us up on the second, which was set up more like a warehouse, but they had screens blocking most of it off.  The work was not pleasant," she says breaking eye contact and looking down at the table.  "I wouldn't go back."

The only thing Ian likes about stripclubs is the lighting. It's easier to hide one's facial expression in the shadows and the dim dancing neon lights in places like these. Probably helps if the patrons don't notice how miserable most of the girls are in these kinda joints. But right now, it's helping Ian hide his own expression. He's a little stunned that she's telling him such personal stuff about her own goings on. Tammy had always kept things really business with him. Maybe she's been here all day and her defenses are kinda lower or somethin. Either way, just be cool and don't react. Ian had learned a long time ago that when people start tellin ya uncomfortable shit about themselves, the best thing to do is just shut up, listen, and don't ask them to clarify anything. There's obviously a reason they didn't spell it out to begin with. So that's what he does here. He just makes eye contact and waits.

"That's probably not much help, I'm sorry.  I'll ask around, though, and ping you if anything turns up, wiz?"

He shakes his head slowly and subtly with an "aint no thang" kinda lower lip stuck out, which quickly turns to a small smile around the edges. "Ey, at this point, I don't even know what's useful and what aint. You mighta just given me the million dollar answer for all I know." He shrugs his shoulders before finishing his beer and standing up. "Well, I've taken up at least a dance or two wortha your time." he says as he slots her 100.00 nuyen off his credstick. "If you hear anything else, holler at me, eh?" He nods and smiles before headed off to find Norway and some sleep.

"Salsha? Do you mind watching me while I sleep for a while before you go? It just feels nice to have someone around, y'know?"

------------------------------------------------

Drenched in today's sweat and still caked in yesterday's sweat, his shaggy hair is almost rock solid, and when he raises his head from the pillow, his hair keeps the same shape. He slowly becomes aware of the chirping little green parrot ARO that only wakes him for certain numbers. Right now, Dadlez and Bookworm are the only ones on that list. He's only a little disappointed that it's not the dwarf. Rather than bother trying to make himself look halfway decent in the 10 seconds he has to answer the call, he just uses his matrix persona to answer it. At the moment, it's a poorly animated lime-green wire frame model that resembles a unisex human form. It has a much smoother voice than his real one though; He sounds like Marvin Gaye.

"Mr. Hopeless, you're looking well."

He bows. "As are you, Miss Dadlez... Or, is it Mrs?"

"I'm sorry to be bothering you, but after the complications from the last job, I've been reaching out for information on your team.  Two of them come highly recommended, but Wraith was a wild card, and not who I had asked for.  What I've found has been . . . problematic.  It seems that she is also known by the name 'Two-Timer' and has twice been the only surviving member of a team.  The most recent was a run against Northrop-Grumman, "

Who the cock is Northrop Grumman?

"...and by the accounts that I've read and verified, an HTR team was on the scene almost immediately, by which I mean within forty-five seconds of insertion.  As I'm sure you're aware, such a timeline is unrealistic at best and betrays collusion at worst." 

Well, that's no good. I wonder if Wraith knows there's words about her. I wonder if LaSombra and Phoenix know.

"That said, I am not personally convinced that Wraith, AKA Two-Timer was necessarily on the take.  For one, there was another run that same night that was easily able to take advantage of the HTR being tied up.  Most likely, either Two-Timer or the fixer were involved, and so I thought it best that I contact you."

"Well damn. I appreciate you reaching out to me anyway. It really makes me feel like you're looking out for me." Ian finds it so much easier to lie when no one can see him. "But I agree. Could be her, could be the fixer, could be drek luck. But it is noteworthy, so thanks." After a short pause, he adds, "You know any details about the other run that same night?"

[rednblack]

@The Phoenix

Stepping one step back, her left hand plucking out a credstick from one of her pockets, slotting it into her commlink and making the transfer of 500 nuyen into the stick, including her commcode with with.  "All yours...and before we get back to your cronies, I do have one question...you much in contact with the Feathered?  I ain't with em or against em, but I may be of a mind to buy some gear of theirs."

"Damn, for being a foreigner you know some drek,eh?  Them hoops is bad news.  Ya know, most gangers be walking around with Berretas, or Gladiuses.  Maybe you see the occasional AK, but not the Feathered.  Serious firepower, and the armor to go with it.  Chameleon suits, masks, fraggin' matrix overwatch, it's a whole different breed down Feathered way.  Thing is, they ain't usually keen on hooking anybody up with their connects, dig?  One thing they ain't got is numbers.  Ya know Aztlan innit too popular around here.  I wouldn't recommend hooking up with them, but the Weatherford Barrens is practically open warfare between the Feathered and the Mara Salvatrucha.  I wouldn't just walk in like you own the place," he says smiling, and Marissa gets the feeling this is one of his good-natured jabs, "but both sides are always looking for a new up, ya know?

"Anyway, here's my commcode.  You let me know if we can further help to one another."

"In exchange for that...I'd hate to see the man in charge looking soft, so..."[/color]  Taking her fist, she took one step back before sending a solid backfist against her cheek, the smack of hand to face audible as it was followed by a direct uppercut to her opposite eye, the Phoenix staggering just a bit from the blow.  A little blood at her lip, it was clear the redhead would likely have a shiner for the day.  "The Phoenix respects this turf, and looks forward to our continued biz."  Tipping her hat, she waited for his response and for the all clear to retrieve her weapons.

"Wiz, chummer."  Winton puts two fingers to his lips, and lets out a screech of a whistle.  The other boys come running back, and stare openly at The Phoenix.  "We've come to an understanding, didn't we?" he asks pointedly to Marissa.  When she nods he continues, "So we got ours, and she got hers.  Only now, y'all 'll be leaving her alone.  Nobody touches the car, her apartment, or her gear.  From now on, you boys treat her like auntie, wiz?  Nova.  Alright, you can go.  B, help her with her stash.  She's lookin' a little woozy."

Marissa dons her gear, and walks out the alley, hearing Winton say behind her, "Alright, I'm buying, who's hungry?"

@Hopeless

He bows. "As are you, Miss Dadlez... Or, is it Mrs?"

"Mr. Hopeless, I'm a capable professional woman.  Why would I want to do a thing like that?" she responds coyly.

"Well damn. I appreciate you reaching out to me anyway. It really makes me feel like you're looking out for me." Ian finds it so much easier to lie when no one can see him. "But I agree. Could be her, could be the fixer, could be drek luck. But it is noteworthy, so thanks." After a short pause, he adds, "You know any details about the other run that same night?"

"Only that a Northrop-Grumman senior engineer made an employment change to General Dynamics.  Couldn't tell you if he was happy about the shift in circumstances or not. 

Last, before I go, I had promised you some information on the man who killed Breeze.  He's in the plex and doing his share of moving around.  If you have been looking for him, you're not the only one.  But he's been frequenting a bar named the Silver Dollar Saloon, mostly looking for work.  Sometimes looking for payback.  Your name has been on his lips."

[SgtBoomCloud]

Marissa played her part well, looking a bit listless and shaken up as the results of their "exchange" were relayed to the rest of the street gangers.  Getting the help strapping on her gear, the redhead nodded her thanks to B before making her way out, swaying a little bit on shaky steps, one hand favoring the swelling around her eye.

Well...fortune's on my side for sure.  Gonna have to use what I got for this run, I think...speaking of...  Pulling up her comm, she sorted through her contact list and pulled up her three coworkers, Hopeless, Wraith, and La Sombra, sending out a audo-text message to them.

<<"Hoi, chummers.  Been a beat, thought we should meet up and hit the town or something.  Found a wiz bistro that might be worth checking out.  Pick you guys up around 6 or whatever?">>

Satisfied with that, the Phoenix made a slow, casual walk back to her car, deciding to take a drive through Arlington to decompress from the absolutely nova scene she just experienced, effectively killing the time while acquianting herself with her current neighborhood.

[JackVII]

[05 MAY 2075 | 23:00 | DFW | Big Star Grid]

>>Wraith coalesced in the Matrix in her usual fashion: a ghostly transparent gray specter, robed and vaguely feminine in shape. Her quick search of matrix resources didn't turn up floor plans for Club Frisco, but did reveal there was a good chance the plans themselves could be found on the Club's Host. Glancing through the digital ether, the apparition spotted Club Frisco's Host, a stuffy-looking art deco design from somewhere around 100 years ago, the only modern touches being the neon lighting accenting the structure. Taking a closer look, Wraith noted the Host's grid and configuration, smiling to herself when she realized it was a public-access Host. Placing her stylized hooded skull MARK, she passed through the wall like her nomme de guerre.

>>Arriving in the host, she took in the throwback black-and-white theme. She saw programs taking the form of business men in suits and fedoras working.  Secretaries in dresses with various hairstyles, from Italian cuts to poodle cuts. Wraith thought it was an interesting choice for a club. Approaching the floor directory, she traced her finger down the marble slate. The letters and numbers whizzed past and around, finally revealing a public access floor plan of the Club. Frowning, she dug further into the directory, looking specifically for Maintenance. Coalescing again, Wraith smiled as she realized she had uncovered actual floor plans.

>> Walking over to the filing cabinet indicated by the directory, the decker flipped through a variety of manila folders, until she reached her goal. Pulling the folder out, she noticed an iron binder clip with an intricate series of clasps holding the folder closed. Glancing around, Wraith saw that no one was paying her much attention. Concentrating, she further faded from existence, becoming entirely invisible. With the folder in her hands, she first passed her hand through the folder, leaving a MARK on the folder. She knew her next actions were going to bring down the wrath of the host, so she needed to act fast. Grasping the clip, she quickly worked the clasps, defeating the clip with relative ease. As she finished, the clip flew off the folder as if fired by a gun, careening about the officescape like a ricochet. All work in the office suddenly froze. A kid in a newsboy hat dashed into the office yelling, "Extr-y! Extr- Huh?" Looking left and right, the kid seemed to be trying to find something.

>>Realizing the jig was up, Wraith opened the folder and grabbed a copy of the document she wanted. Winking at the kid, she said, "Better luck next time," before fading from existence.

[Jayde Moon]

Gabriella checked her commlink and noted the message from the Phoenix.  Taking a look at the time, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to get up.  Just gave her a few hours.  She sent a message back to the Phoenix with an address to pick her up, then grabbed herself a shower and her ready bag.

All set to meet up with the crew, she moved on to the pick up point and waited.

[Poindexter]

"Only that a Northrop-Grumman senior engineer made an employment change to General Dynamics.  Couldn't tell you if he was happy about the shift in circumstances or not. 

Last, before I go, I had promised you some information on the man who killed Breeze.  He's in the plex and doing his share of moving around.  If you have been looking for him, you're not the only one.  But he's been frequenting a bar named the Silver Dollar Saloon, mostly looking for work.  Sometimes looking for payback.  Your name has been on his lips."

God fucking shit. It's a good thing Ian isn't using his real face for this call, or he'd be blowing it. He's terrified, frustrated, and angry, all at once. He holds it down, speaking mentally through his fake matrix generated voice. "Silver Dollar Saloon. Thanks, I'll remember that. And I'll remember how I found out, too. You know I hate to cut conversations short with people like yourself, but it really is time for me to be moving along, eh? Take care of yourself, Miss Dadlez."

Hotel rooms with water are too damn expensive, but Ian simply isn't going to allow himself to show up for the first day of work, smelling and looking like shit, so he springs for one nearby. Ghost knows how many metas have done Ghost knows what in here. was the first thought through his head when he walked in, but now that a change of clothes are in the public laundry and he's washing himself in honest-to-goodness lukewarm water back in his own poorly air conditioned room? He's feeling a lot more like himself. He's halfway through washing his hair with some of that combination shampoo/conditioner/toothpaste stuff they foist on you to save money when he gets a voicemail on his comm. He routes it wirelessly through his datajack and listens to it as he rinses.

<<"Hoi, chummers.  Been a beat, thought we should meet up and hit the town or something.  Found a wiz bistro that might be worth checking out.  Pick you guys up around 6 or whatever?">>

I hate voice messages. he thinks as he mentally composes and sends his response over the group channel.

<<@Team [Mister Hopeless] I'm ready to go whenever you can scoop me up. ARO included.>>

A few minutes later, with more or less everything he owns concealed on his person or in his shoulderbag, he sits on the dingy, stained floor in the center of the room, searching the astral with his mind. He needs another companion for the day and doesn't want to get caught flatfooted, should some shit go down. Unfortunately, this isn't really the best place to look for a protector. The spirits around this place are more predatory in nature than he'd prefer, and after a few minutes of inspecting the auras of these abusive and manipulative spirits around him, he's about to give in to despair and go it alone. It's then he hears a rapping on his window. Creaking the waterstained and opaque piece of plastiglass open, he peeks his third eye outside, to see the massive form of Salsha, cramped into the alleyway behind the building.

Her neck is craned up to the second floor to reach his window and she's wearing a very "happy with herself" sort of smile on her wrinkled, leathery beak. "I reckon I could keep ya company, lil one." The skinny, white, and over-accessorized man beams with happiness and, before he can think better of himself, he leans out the window to kiss her on the cheek. She pulls back sharply. "But if you so much as think about getting fresh with me like that again, you'll be in hot water mister! Do you understand?" Ian is embarrassed, and he quickly pulls himself back inside the window again. "My apologies, ma'am. I didn't mean anything by it, I promise. I was just so happy you came back to see me again. I promise, I won't let it happen again." Wearing a big, fake frown and a pair of puppy dog eyes, he asks "Will you still come with me, Salsha?"

"Of course I will, sugar. Not many boys your age can make me laugh."

----------------------

Thirty-six seconds. That's how long Ian had been waiting on the curb since getting a message from the Phonex telling him she was here. He'd re-booted his comm as soon as he got the message and it was just now finally starting to come back online. Some kind of security update or something, so it had taken longer than usual.

Mister Hopeless leaves Ian Bradley on the curb and steps into the high performance automobile that just pulled up for him.

[JackVII]

[06 MAY 2075 | 14:00 | DFW | Wraith's Apartment]

Wraith was busy working on indexing the information she had uncovered when her 'deck buzzed with an incoming voicemail. Accessing it mentally, she heard the Phoenix's voice in her head. Responding, she sent a text message.

<<@ThePhoenix [Wraith] Sounds good, buzz me when you get here and I'll meet you outside.>>

[06 MAY 2075 | 17:30 | DFW | Outside Wraith's Apartment]

The woman had dressed in her reasonably fashionable business skirt-suit and mirrored sunglasses, with her Fichetti tucked securely in the concealed holster in her suit. Since she wasn't sure exactly what was going to be going down tonight, she also grabbed a gym bag and shoved the rest of her gear into it. Who knows, maybe we might go crazy tonight? she thought, wanting to make sure she was prepared for whatever eventuality.

As the Phoenix's car pulled up, Wraith naturally moved to the rear passenger-side door and hopped in the vehicle.

[SgtBoomCloud]

[That Evening...]

Redressed in her armor jacket, Marissa had toned down her donned weaponry for the evening's plans, keeping the pistols, revolver, knife, and shock gloves on her for the time being, all the rest of her gear naturally tucked away in the trunk of her car, ready at but a moment's worth of preparation in a time of need.  Just another day at the office... The redhead quipped silently in her head as she hopped into her vehicle, plugging in the coordinates that each of her crewmates sent her, deciding to pick up La Sombra first, followed by Wraith and then Hopeless.  As she picked up each of them, the same nod of respect and recognition was given as they took their seats, the orkette in the passenger front, Wraith behind her, and Hopeless behind the Phoenix.  Once they were all on the road, the lady cleared her throat.

"Alright, before you all get on my hoop about my taste in places, I'll admit that while we're hitting the edge of Arlington, we ain't going to a bistro.  Naw, that was to throw off any peepers in our links, y'know?"  Shrugging, she rounded a corner with a little whip to the turn, making it to their destination within ten minutes.  It was definitely not a bistro.  Rather unassuming on the outside, the AR neon sign displaying the name "The Halls of Valhalla" glared in garish reds and blues.  "Trust me on this one, chummers.  Worth it, and we won't be bothered."

Stepping out of the car, the redhead fixed her hair really quick before leading the group inside, two words being the best descriptors for the place: trid bar.  There were no less than four bar countertops in each corner of the warehouse sized building, a smattering of tables mixed in the middle and doorways leading into the kitchen and two 'rental rooms'.  To the naked eye, it looked like your standard dive, food and drink being best referred to as cheap but effective in serving their purpose in satisfying customer appetites.  The secret and claim to fame of the place, however, came to realization when AR was activated.  Sectioned into quadrants, the entire place seemed to transform to some place from the trids....a great battlefield with combat clashing all around, an old time saloon with all the stereotypical ruckus, the bridge of a starship, and a traditional oriental tournament arena.  The waiting staff were dressed plainly in meatspace, their AR appearance layered over and shifting to match whichever section they were in.

Grinning, the Phoenix lifting her arms to either side, gesturing to the place as a whole.  "Lemme guess, impressed?  A lotta peeps here really get in character when they come here, so who's to say we aren't?  C'mon, let's pick a place and get to work."

Once they took a seat, the redhead ordered the first round of drinks on her, waiting for the staff to leave them be before giving a nod and opening the conversation.  "Aight....it isn't much, but I think if we need some extra support, I can enlist some of the local color that I may or may not have introduced myself to as a neighbor.  Hehe"  Seeing as how noone had questioned why the Phoenix had a black eye up to this point, all internal curiosity was probably satisfied by that point.  "I didn't pick up any intel on our dudes, but I did learn about some of the Feathered and how they operate.  They fighting some other gang a couple districts from here, and as long as we don't use cheap drek for firepower, it could be tied to them.  What about you guys, you got some more luck than I?"

[Jayde Moon]

"I got a nice data packet from my contact in the Star," Gabriela pitches in.  "Passed it all on to Wraith to get it sorted and see what use we can make of it all.  Other than that, I'm game for whatever plan you guys think is best.  Ready to get in and get out or get in and get my hands dirty."

[JackVII]

[06 MAY 2075 | 18:10 | DFW | The Halls of Valhalla]

Wraith appreciated the AR-overlay of the club. She was generally partial to VR clubs, but when the effort was made to do AR right, it worked quite well. The Halls of Valhalla did not disappoint. She vaguely wondered if there was a VR Host corollary that could be used to interact with the AR icons here, but then pushed the thought away, wanting to get down to business.

Nodding at La Sombre, the woman said, "Thank your contact for the info, it verified a few things from the Johnson which should alleviate some of our fears about whether this run was going to be a cock-up from the go." Wraith mentally opened a file  and invited MARKs from all present at the table. "Go ahead and grab a copy of this file, it distills everything we have learned from Johnson and our contacts, as well as some additional information I was able to dig up. I'll try to hit the high points."

Wishing for a white noise generator, Wraith merely pitched her voice as low as possible, while still being heard. "Alright, so Subject A, he of the lower reputation who also drives one of our other targets around from time to time... we've got a good track of his recent movements on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from between 1100 to about 1530, occasionally picking back up later on during the evening. Lone Star seems to have a tail on him. They likely back-off when he enters the area controlled by Knight Errant. I don't know if KE is tracking him there, but it could be a bit dangerous. If we wanted to try to hit him in his vehicle on those days, the best place may be around Chapman Road at the jurisdictional borders. Personally, I'd like to just try to do what we need to do without any kind of law enforcement nearby."

"Subject B, higher-tier player who is driven around by Subject A... not a ton of new info. A few new commcodes and addresses for the clubs he visits. I do have the layout for his home office though. Doesn't look too difficult to break into, if we want to do something like drop a datatap or snoop around for more information. He and Subject A apparently visit a place called Club Frisco and make use of the VIP room. They've got a relatively high turnover rate for employees, including hostesses and dancers. Could be our way to gain access to them. I went ahead and hacked the Frisco server and pulled the blueprints. MARKing that file separately, you can all copy it at your leisure."

Pausing as the waitress came back with their drinks, Wraith took a sip of the water she had ordered. "We didn't get anything new on Subject C, the mysterious bigwig, but have a bit more info on Subject D. So this dude... he's under investigation in no less than four homicide investigations. Mean fragger. He hangs out at a place called the Spirits Club. Big go-ganger joint in a dangerous part of Fort Worth. The first floor has a club with a mechanical bull and I am not fragging with you about that. The third floor is a strip club, not sure if it also has a mechanical bull or not, but I think they missed a pretty good draw if not. Not sure about the second floor, but the only access is stairs. Could be administration or something. I haven't tried to hack the place yet, but there are coffin hotels nearby that I could use if we want to go that direction. Anyway, other than that, Subject D seems to run with three other yaks, one is probably a mage of some sort. There is some possible dirt that he and his crew showed up at a fight with the Feathered well after the dust had settled. Aside from that, I think I can figure out who the Star's informant is on Subject D if we want to lean on them too."

Having said way more than her fair share, the decker leaned back and sipped her water.

[Jayde Moon]

Listening to all of that, Gabriela nodded.  "So we're still on the hook for anything more about Subject 3?"

She rubbed her chin.  It looked like the first two would be an easy target, they were practically a gift-wrapped parcel, but coordinating a hit that could take out all four within the time frame given would be challenging, especially if they didn't get more information on Sato.  She looked over at Hopeless and Phoenix in hopes that they'd have something to add.