Chaim lets his face drop a bit when he finds three measly grenades in the ammunition box, and flicks Asher's note aside. It's a pointless performance, given that Asher isn't there to witness it, but Chaim finds these little touches useful for further price gouging later, should the opportunity present itself. It's best when he can muster a semblance of belief in the bulldrek he's spinning when he's spinning it.
As Casket sets about the business of lining up, inspecting, and then cleaning his weaponry, Chaim takes stock of his own gear. The chameleon suit was new, an expensive purchase after his last run when he'd needed to ditch it in the middle of a job, but it had given him an opportunity to invest in some upgrades, one of which was a low-light flashlight he hadn't found contacts to match with yet.
"I think I'm going to head into Touristville," Chaim says to the group.
"I need to grab a spare mag, some other sundries, and some contacts from a guy I know down the way. The eye kind I mean," he adds as an afterthought.
Spikes volunteers to accompany him, and he gladly accepts. He sees a whiff of concern cross Ichante's face, so he fires off a comm as finishes buttoning his overcoat.
<<@Ichante [Brasa] I'll be on my best behavior.>>On the way over, Chaim runs through the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out which corp spawned Spikes, but the young decker is playing her cards pretty close to her chest, and the ex-Azzie doesn't push things. He makes a couple calls and sends a few comm messages on the way down, and within thirty minutes the pair is sitting in a Stuffer Shack just off Avondale nursing burritos and cola when Amber makes her way over, still wearing her dorky Stuffer Shack hat, which she takes off quickly upon spying Spikes.
"Hey, Am," Chaim says, inviting her to sit. He runs through the shopping list, adding,
"I'm sure some of that's been returned, or is defective, neh? No need to put it on the scanner, scan?"
"That's you, Brasa, always looking for a deal," she deadpans, but meets them out back a few minutes later with the gear carefully tucked into a black shopping bag, which Chaim ditches at the first opportunity.
One last stop at the all-night Weapons World, and they're back at the safe house, Chaim whispering the Shema to himself out of habit as he tries to quiet his mind. The next day they'd be going in. He hoped they were prepared.
#
When he wakes, Casket has already been up for hours, it seems, poring over Eddie's maps. He makes recommendations on the route, and encourages Spikes to keep her assault rifle on a short leash. Ichante hangs back a little, but is clearly pleased with herself, and she loads up her machine pistol.
That's a good sign. "I'm ready," she says, slapping a mag of flechette rounds into her Colt Cobra TZ-120.
"Betel and Cram are on me today," she announces magnanimously, still pleased with her summoning.
"Me too," Chaim adds. The new chameleon suit feels good on him, his arm slide is working perfectly, and the filters have just been changed on his gas mask.
Now or never time, chummer. Don't frag this up."Let's get paid, shall we?"