*****PRIVATE: Jason R Stormwind >>>>>[M'thanks. Owe you big for this one. M'outta town for a couple days. You'll receive the remaining portion of your charge shortly after I come back. Buena suerte. {r}]<<<<< -- Morris Dees III <20:11:34/07-31-57> Associate Director HumanisWatch, Seattle Branch *****PRIVATE: Jason R Stormwind >>>>>[Expect military opposition. Not heavy-handed, but quick, precise, and always unexpected. {r}]<<<<< -- Morris Dees III <20:14:11/07-31-57> Associate Director HumanisWatch, Seattle Branch *****Private:Apollyon >>>>>[It's done. He's at >>location.<< His deck is worthless. Do you know what the hel that van was? +++++Include Pict:Van]<<<<< -- Noid <7-31-57/19:38:45> *****PRIVATE: Noid >>>>>[Thank you for your assistance. I will remember the swiftness and quality of your work for possible future employment. The vehicle you mentioned is not familiar to me. However, if you were able to leave without any trouble, I doubt it will be significant. Your payment is en route. My courier will meet you at >>encrypted<< in exactly 3 hours. Fondest regards to Soph.]<<<<< -- Apollyon <23:39:00/07-31-57> >>>>>[Anyone in need of work, pleas contact Nexod]<<<<< -- Josh Hamilton <23:57:12/07-30-57> Marketing Assistant Skylark Everything, Inc. *****PRIVATE: Redemption >>>>>[Very nice. Can your persona meet me at RTG NA/UCAS-SEA LTG >>encypted<< at >>encypted time< *****PRIVATE: Lynch >>>>>[ Okay, in town now. I had good travelling time - I'll be at >enrcypted< this evening, if you can be around]<<<<< -- JayCee <10:10:42 / 08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: AJ >>>>>[I should be in position for your team to collect me some time tommorow lunchtime, given not too bad a hangover. +++++matrix download: raptor.frame +++++input parameters: time_to_active: 1 week +++++input parameters: target: search_AJ +++++input parameters: deactivate_on: >encrypted< Just a little insurance, AJ. I *know* I'm playing a fair field, and I figure you probably are, but this gives me that 'sword of damocles' type cover. I'm sure you understand fully - I don't know you from Adam and I'm putting myself totally in your hands. Provided I wake up okay and healthy, I'll deactivate the frame and all will be hunky doory. And I'll pay you :)]<<<<< -- JayCee <10:15:53 / 08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Nexod >>>>>[Well now, if that wasn't the most cryptic request for assistance this system has seen in a while.... Perhaps you care to illuminate, in private or public? My compatriot tends not to handle your average runs into the shadows, but wouldn't mind some suplimental income.]<<<<< -- Vernier <10:10:46/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Redemption >>>>>[Very nice. Can your persona meet me at RTG NA/UCAS-SEA LTG >>encypted<< at >>encypted time< *****PRIVATE: Imp, Shadow, Claw, Lazuli, Glaive, Redemption >>>>>[My humble apologies for the meeting. All I can say is, it looked like I was one of the people those guys wanted dead, so you can at least assume I didn't knowingly set you up. As near as I can figure out, the guy who joined us and gave us the cred was a ringer. Ploughshare always dealt with me through intermediaries, and I'd guess that this middleman must have had some sort of locked spell and it blew up. I've seen that happen before. That was what nailed us right at the start. Might have been worse, do we have Claw to thank for our survival? Their mistake was that it also blew most of us onto the floor, either that or the shooters outside were a fraction late firing. Also, the glass was tougher than they thought. Sloppy planning, we should have hit the floor dead. Imp, I know it looked crazy going through the shooters instead of out the back, but if it had been my hit the back door would have been my main killing zone. I still don't know that it wasn't. But I thought I'd let you know I'd heard what you said... Besides, it startled the hell out of them, and let me kill them both. Thanks for the cover fire, you and/or Shadow hurt one of them pretty badly. Oh, you're wondering how come I think Redemption and I were the targets? Because the two psychos who shot up the restaurant, killing two innocent (and unnamed) diners, match my and his description, according to the news. Someone in high places has decided they don't like me. Well, I've decided I don't like them either. Redemption's not too bad, he took some rounds but his armour stopped the worst of it. I got cut some going through the glass, but it's going to be okay. He, Glaive and I are playing the gone game for now. I suggest all of you do likewise. And if any of you find a lead to Ploughshare, leave me a few pieces of the bastard.]<<<<< -- Easy <19:30:32/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Ploughshare >>>>>[Ploughshare, you made a big mistake. You should have checked my records. I'm sure if you can mess with the police so thoroughly, you can access all kinds of data. See what happened to the last guys who screwed me. The same will happen to you. You are a dead man, Ploughshare, and the only detail yet to be decided is the time and place when reality ends the illusion of your continued existence.]<<<<< -- Easy <19:34:12/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Anonymous FishNet User, Temporary Account 43292 >>>>>[Account verified. Terse mode. =Y=93.2 remaining. Your request: Search for ("Humanis Policlub" AND "Auburn") AND "Arlan Samuelson" OR "John Grant" using standard settings plus content filter level 2, credibility filter level 2. Standard sort criteria, download list when done. +++++searching... 492 references found +++++downloading reference list This session 3.2=Y=. 90.0=Y= remaining.] -- FishNet Public Matrix Search Engine <18:43:32/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Anonymous FishNet User, Temporary Account 43292 >>>>>[Account verified. Terse mode. =Y=90.0 remaining. Your request: Retrieve reference.list.item 112 +++++retrieving item 112 from source "RaceNet" +++++begin retrieved item And this is an example of what the Humanis ought to be. At least these guys, out of Auburn, you can just dislike rather than detest. He's still an idiot, though. Some guy called Samuelson. +++++begin included speech "...and I say that violence, that Elf-bashing, that any racially motivated attack, weakens the cause of Human superiority. We try to show to the world that we are better than the lesser races, that we are capable of higher reason and possess greater intellect. And the metas and their media cronies point to a leering, swearing, thug in a Humanis T-shirt, a goon with no more wit or restraint than an Ork, as an example of that 'human superiority'. I say that we must drive the thugs and the muckers from our midst, and reclaim the name Humanis as a standard of reason, of superiority, of the triumph of intellect over meat! Our aim is not to brawl in the streets. Our aim is to seperate the races, so human and non-human do not have to live together! These creatures are not the same as us: years of pretending this is so have led us to the problems we face today! They have different needs, and different ways of life. We must peacefully divide, giving the metas their own lands to live their own lives. Violence will only delay the day when humanity stands in its homeland, proud and pure!" +++++end included speech -- Policlub Watcher <08:45:14/04-05-57> This session 2.1=Y=. 87.9=Y= remaining.]<<<<< -- FishNet Public Matrix Search Engine <18:49:12/08-01-57> ***** PRIVATE: Easy >>>>>[Status?!]<<<<< -- Kor <19:43:50 / 08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Easy, Shadow, Claw, Lazuli, Glaive, Redemption >>>>>[ If any of you need backup, let me know. I plan on going after this Ploughshare fragger. No one screws me on a run, and letting him survive the attempt would be a precedent that I don't think I'm going to set. If any of you want to combine efforts let me know .. seems foolish to duplicate efforts. ]<<<<< --Imp <15:28:26/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Flux >>>>>[ I need some information. Some fragger that goes by the nym of 'Ploughshare' just tried to off me and a team that just completed a run for him. We survived, the goons that attacked us didn't, and I want to find out what the frag is going on. I need anything you can get on that name. Also, two of the runners that were in the group, 'Easy' and 'Redemption' appeared to be the main targets, with us just bystanders. I want anything you can get on those two. They've obviously pissed someone off enough to make themselves and anyone around them into targets .. see if you can get to Ploughshare from that angle. I need these results as fast as you can get them. The first hit was poorly planned, but I'm not going to count on them to be foolish again. ]<<<<< --Imp <15:33:44/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Imp >>>>>[ What the hell. I was getting tired of laying low anyhow. I'll let you know as soon as I find something out. ]<<<<< --Flux <**:**:**/**-**-**> >>>>>[ The reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. Nice try assholes. You're going to have to do better than that. ]<<<<< --Flux <**:**:**/**-**-**> *****PRIVATE: Roger Yamato, MCT Operations >>>>>[ Mr. Yamato .. I suggest strongly that you refrain from attempting any more attempts upon my life. I have a bit of data that could prove quite damning if it were to be leaked to the press. Just so you know I'm not bluffing here's a little bit to wet your appetite: +++++include file: yamato-yoshi.transcript +++++include file: yamato-citadel.orders +++++include file: citadel.specifications +++++include file: citadel.exploit If anything happens to me, there are three seperate data-havens that have instructions to open those files with as wide a distribution as possible. Starting with the Seattle news-media. Any more attempts on me, and I will see to it that your ass is in the proverbial sling. Do you understand? ]<<<<< --Flux <**:**:**/**-**-**> *****PRIVATE: Flux >>>>>[ It appears as if you hold all of the cards at the moment. Very well, you win. For now. ]<<<<< --Roger Yamato Director: Special Operations, UCAS Mitsuhama Computer Technologies *****INTERNAL: MCT Internal Communication >>>>>[ FROM: Roger Yamato, Director of Special Operations, UCAS TO: Tetsiro Yoshi, Director of MCT Computer Security Services, Seattle "Sir?" Cease all activities regarding the individual known as 'Flux'. The Citadel incident must not be leaked to the press. "But si.." Don't _BUT_ me! I said STOP, or do I have to find a new CompSec manager for Seattle? "No sir. I understand." ]<<<<< --MCT Internal Communication <15:49:16/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Blade >>>>>[I gave the tape to Lilith, she gave it to Karlsbruhn, I paid him some moolah and he actually got some usable video out of the last half! I don't know what that kid does with the money. Takes it home and gives it to his Mom, probably. Anyway, here's what we got. Don't we look good? +++++begin trideo +++++signal/noise ratio 73% The view fuzzes with static for a second and noise bars crawl over the screen. Quinn and Blade are running along the darkened street in alternate short rushes, cover-and-moving at a punishing pace: they seemto be concerned about something behind them. Both are breathless and Blade looks tired, as he motions Quinn into a doorway: they cover-and- move through a gutted delicatessen to the rear, up a flight of stairs into the deserted apartment above. "Mom and... Pop store." says Blade, breathing hard. "Hope Mom and Pop... both managed to get out." Quinn drops down, lights a cigarette and draws hard on it, coughing, then offers it to Blade who declines. He moves to the window, watching the street below. "You know... you are one of the... fittest shamans I know. I thought I'd... be carrying you... by now. " Quinn chuckles tiredly. "Hang out with Lynch... and train to join his squad all... those years ago... the guy makes a religion... out of being able to cover a little more distance than anyone else... and the habits... die hard." Quinn pulls a water blivet out of her coat, sips carefully, passes it to Blade. They pass the water back and forth for a few minutes as they rest and regain their breath, then both bring out food. "Can we risk a fire?" "I wouldn't." says Quinn. "I'm still not sure we shook those bastards off. Maybe they're tailing us, seeing where they're going. Ants are devious bastards like that. Saw some Ant workers set light to a building once, and they had soldiers around the ground floor grabbing people as they came out. Maybe they think we're part of a larger group." She snaps out a spur, slices open the top of her MRE. "Wow. A cybershaman." "You better believe it. Any asshole wants to ground shit out through _my_ reflex enhancers, got another think coming." Blade reaches into a pocket, brings out an empty magazine and a box of shells, starts reloading. "I thought magic and cyber don't mix." "They don't. I'm not as slick with a spell as some. But I'm plenty good enough. And it's things like the way I see in the dark as well as you do, and I can do magic on what I see. Or shoot it, because I got a smartgun link two too, and a Viper .22, and it takes two to tango-" Blade clears his throat and the shaman grins amiably. "How far to go?" "About another mile. I can't get over how quiet it is." Blade raps the magazine against his heel to settle the rounds, begins reloading another. "It's night. Most people can't see in the dark, so they bunker up and pray. If you have good night eyes and enough nerve, night's the best time to travel." Quinn is transferring fat red shells from her pocket to the loops on the SPAS-22's sling. "Course, it means anyone we do meet is more likely to be trouble." "Great." Blade grins. "You don't like a quiet life, do you?" "I did a deal with Death and I can never die." Quinn grins. "And if you believe that, I can give you an excellent deal on the Space Needle, but delivery and giftwrap's extra." +++++static +++++signal to noise ratio 79% "That's the building." whispers Blade very quietly as they look across a smallish plaza. "Can we shout 'Hut! Hut! Hut!' as we go in?" enquires Quinn. "No. Can you risk a spell or something to keep us hidden?" Quinn pauses. "Okay. But be braced in case anything comes out of the walls." She concentrates for an instance and Blade disappears into a shifting, slightly refractive blur. A strange clicking noise can be heard, briefly. "I give you... the Predator spell." "The what?" "Watch more old movies. Go." You realise Quinn is likewise hidden, even in the infrared spectrum the camera picks up. They run across the plaza, the screen fuzzing with static for a few moments as they reach the base of tbe building. The doors hang on their hinges and the building seems to have partly burned. Both rematerialise in the lobby. "No reaction. What did your contact say?" "To deliver the stuff here." Blade glances around, the muzzle of his rifle tracking his gaze. "Then let's leave it and go." Quinn, likewise, has her shotgun in the shoulder and is searching for threats. "This place smells bad. I don't think we want to-" The floor erupts around her feet and the audio track dies, the view skewing and strobing through primary colours. You can make out flailing, chitinous limbs and the huge muzzle flash of the shotgun, then Quinn is backpedalling away from the three or four monstrosities that are clawing up through the parquet flooring. The lead one oozes from three or four gaping wounds, more of Quinn's twelve-gauge slugs blasting through its body, and two turn to lunge at Blade. The view stabilises for a few seconds and you hear more gunfire, and Quinn slashing with her spurs at the nearest creature, severing antennae and raking a gouge across one bulging compound eye. The spurs glow with a reddish light, you notice, and the insect sqeals and lurches back as Quinn drives tbe blades into where its throat should be. +++++signal to noise ratio 29% She whirls, the Anaconda huge in her hand, looking for another target. Blade is butt-stroking a downed insect in the head, yellow ichor splattering as the carapace breaks: the other spirits are likewise downed. One twitches its limb and Quinn fires twice into its chest: the foul creature's movement stops. The view judders sideways for a few seconds, horizontal hold lost, but the audio picks up the sound of Quinn feeding shells into the Franchi shotgun. "You okay?" she asks. "Been worse." Blade sounds breathless. "Do we go on up or get out?" +++++recalibrating video interface +++++signal to noise ratio 29% The picture returns, grainier and breaking to static every few seconds. Quinn is reloading the two fired chambers of the revolver. Blade is cleaning sticky yellow fluid off the stock of his M22. "I guess we go up. We're here, we paid for the E-Ticket ride, might as well get our money's worth. Gimme that." Quinn leand over, grabs Blade's leg and concentrates; and for a few seconds a turban of bandages encircles his head, crossed Band-Aids dot his face, and his leg seems to be encased by a huge plaster cast. The illusion holds... and fades, as Quinn relaxes. A bleeding gash in the mercenary's pants leg is no longer dripping. "Don't ask me to do that too often. You're wired up worse than Lynch." Quinn shakes her head, rummages for a packet of instant coffee granules, knocks it back Ranger-style again. "Gah. Yuck. Needs sugar." She unslings the shotgun. The jolting as they advance up the stairs keeps throwing the horizontal hold of the battered camera off again. "I don't suppose you know who you were supposed to meet?" "This is the primary contact point. They did note that-" Blade, leading, drops back. Quinn freezes too. There is a long pause as the camera view shudders and breaks up into static, recovering slowly. "Major Hunter. Delivering." says Blade softly. "Hunter? Who's the Legless Lady, and where did she lose her limbs?" A female voice from around the angle of the stairwell. "Lo. Maxim Arms, Phnom Penh, perimeter minefield." "Who's that with you?" "The Mighty Quinn. She's ex-Company too." "Come up. Slow." Blade moves up. So does Quinn, seeing a solid barricade: mostly steel- tube chairs lashed and welded into a solid mass. A small gap reveals a FN MAG-5 on a bipod, trained on the stairwell. "Climb over, it's solid." They do, squeezing through the foot-wide space between barricade and ceiling. Behind are two ragged, dirty figures, both young and fit-looking. "Glad you made it, Hunter. Got the data?" "Sure. Why's it so important?" The woman shrugs. "Part of it's our supply schedule. Which means we know when our ammo resupply is due. And the rest of it... believe it or not, the Company's interested in keeping as many people in Chicago alive as possible, and making as many bugs dead as possible. That's a directive from the very, very top. The Man himself. This info helps us do that. We look out for airdrops - the schedule for those is here, too - bust hoarders, nail anyone trying to corner the market on food." Quinn lights a cigarette, offers the pack around. "You do know you got a lobby full of dead bugs?" "Yeah. Bitch, ain't it?" The woman doesn't seem concerned or troubled. "Thanks for taking them out, though. Need some ammo?" "Twelve-gauge EX slug if you got it." The woman nods, tosses Quinn a box. "Yeah, they moved in a few days ago. We figured we'd take them down when we sent the next patrol out. You gotta watch out. After a while you get complacent, you think killing them's easy, you get careless. Then they pull something on your sorry and you get dead. Or worse." The woman shudders. "We took out a Wasp queen. She had all these people in cocoons, all paralysed, feeling this thing growing inside them... all we could do for them was kill them. I hate this place. You guys need anything else? Food, water?" The two shake their heads. "How were you planning to get out?" Quinn points. "Head west. Get to the wall, climb over. Anyone asks who we are, tries to stop us, we talk real fast." "You think that'll work?" The woman seems amused. "Did the last three times I was here." "Okay. If it doesn't and you're still alive, link up with us. You just got us our replen schedule, now we know when and where our next supply run is due. When they bring us our beans, bullets and batteries, we'll ask them to lift you out. Services rendered." "And owe the Company another favour." mutters Blade. The woman sits down beside the machine gun, looking tired. "You guys want some coffee before you go?" +++++static The pair are skirmishing along the streets again. The camera image is so poor you take a few seconds to realise it's nearly dawn. The soundtrack, between bursts of static, picks up a thrumming drone and Quinn looks up, alarmed, to see a crucifix, above in the lightening sky, trailing dandelion seeds. "Airdrops." says Blade. They carry on moving, rounding a corner- Quinn glances around, and doubletakes: there are eight men and women there, assorted races, all armed and all dressed in fetishistic arrays of leather and studs. They notice her at the same time, and fan out around the pair in a wide semicircle. "What is this, a Road Warrior remake?" asks Quinn. "Okay. Give us the guns and we let you live." says the leader, who has his Sandler submachinegun trained on Blade. The others have a mix of Army G11s and civilian firearms. "No way." says Blade calmly. "There's eight of us, and two of you. I'd say-" "Seven." says Quinn brightly. "Eight, bitch, can't you count? There's eight of-" The leader swings the SMG to point at Quinn, but before it reaches her he's thrown backwards in a blast of noise: it appears that Quinn's draw with her .44 is _fast_. "Like I said, seven. Anyone want to make it six?" She thumbs back the Anaconda's hammer. "What's up, slitch, you think you can kill all of us?" says another, and Quinn shoots him in the head. "Maybe not. But I'll get an 'A' for effort. Who dies next?" "How far you think you're going to get?" asks one of the gangers, nervously. "Far enough. Turn around, walk away. Or else." Quinn glares at the six gangers, who are still nervously pointing weapons at them. "Okay. I'm going to count to three." She thumbs back the hammer again. "One. Two." Quinn and Blade open fire simultaneously, Quinn dropping two with single aimed shots as Blade rakes the others with automatic fire. Only one gets a burst off, though you hear Quinn gasp and the view breaks up completely. +++++video signal-to-noise ratio 6.3% +++++video unrecoverable +++++audio signal-to-noise ratio 32% "Quinn, you okay?" You hear coughing. "Gimme a minute. Physician, heal thy-fucking-self. Anyone notice us?" "Probably. It's getting light, we should hole up." "Quarter mile to The Wall, let's just get the fuck outta here." "For Chrissakes, Quinn, you're coughing blood." "And I'm not gonna get any better waiting around here." The coughing does seem to have eased. "The camera stopped the worst one. I guess our holiday snaps won't be coming out too good." Rummaging sounds. "Let's go." Again, you hear the sounds of the pair's progress, cover-and-moving along the street. Quinn is still coughing, and sounds much more out of breath than usual. At one point you hear a shout of alarm, and Quinn's yell of "Get back inside! Stay down! Company, Blade!" A burst of automatic gunfire from a M22, then the lighter, sharper note of a G11. Quinn must have taken one from the bodies. "Keep moving, keep moving!" More gunfire. Ricochets nearby. "Ready! Move!" A long, hammering burst. "Magazine!" Scraping and clicking noises, the sound of a bolt being racked, shorter bursts. Running noises, the scuff of clothes on concrete. Blade shouts "Sonofabitch, how many of these fuckers are there?" "Too many! Keep moving!" The firefight intensifies, dies for thirty seconds - you hear Quinn running, then a faint shout of "There they are!" and more gunfire, then heavier gunfire. "Blade! Think Army thoughts!" "Why? I - how did you - skip that! Move, I'll cover!" More gunfire, suddenly intense with the sound of automatic gunfire, grenade launchers and explosions, and the scraping, grating noise of Quinn scrambling on broken rock, and her own rifle fire joining in. You hear Blade following up, and an shattering concussion overloads the mike for a few seconds, then the noises are abruptly fainter as the pair make their way down the other side of the bank. An unfamiliar voice. "You must have really pissed those guys off for them to send so many at you." Gunfire and running feet around the mike. "Some of them are good merges, not human," replies Quinn, still coughing, "and I guess they liked the look of us. Or maybe they were planning a rush and we got in the way." "Could be. You're hurt pretty bad, here, let me." says the voice. "...and you two aren't Army. Nice fake on the uniforms, though. Like to tell me what's going on?" "We're on a mission from God." replies Blade, deadpan. "Listen, wiseass, we could just throw you back... wait up. The Cook County tax office?" "Yeah. Ex-Major Matthew Hunter, Ares Security, retired, unretired to be a courier, looking forward to re-retiring as soon as he fucking can. She's ex-Lieutenant Susan Rodriguez, also formerly Ares Security." "Okay, okay. You're not bugs, I can tell that." The voice sighs. "And if I shove you back in there you'll be dead by lunchtime." The gunfire is still growing, you hear more troops arriving and vehicles pulling up. The sound of mortar fire begins to add a bass counterpoint. "I guess I can let you go. Only lose the uniforms, okay?" "Sure. You want a couple of extra guns here, plus a pissed-off and tired shaman?" "No, too hard to explain when my CO arrives. Just fade. We're holding them, they've tried this before. Hard part is working out what they're trying to distract us from - yes, Sergeant? Send Second north and ambush them, then..." "I think we should go now." whispers Blade. "Me too." replies Quinn. +++++end of recording Not the most entertaining of days out. Still, we made it. Now Lynch and Lilith are back, you want to go on a double-date? Go see a really stupid movie, have dinner somewhere like Gracie's and really gorge, then the four of us go back to my place and settle in with a keg, phone pizza, chips'n'dips, and a stack of Monty Python movies? Or... you ever watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show? :)]<<<<< -- The Mighty Quinn <22:54:53/08-01-57> >>>>>[See what's waiting for you and any of your friends, slitch-witch! +++++upload lampalago.pic The picture is a white-haired, anorexically skinny, naked man being held by his hair in a bathtub filling with blood. The man's eyes are wide open with a dullness that would chill Stuffer's soykaf, but he is obviously dead. Be assured, we are coming for you, Rosha. And the last thing you will see is your twitching body after I've cut off yer ratty, phosphorescent head!]<<<<< -- Cpt. Nelson Wilkerson <18:11:56/08-01-57> Tactical Commander UCAS SFRT *****PRIVATE: Imp, Claw, Lazuli, Glaive, Redemption, Easy >>>>>[These guys have pissed me off. I'm going to do some checking..and it's going to be THOROUGH. Then, I'm going to make them suffer.]<<<<< -- Shadow (19:15:30 PDT/ 08:01:57) *****PRIVATE: Buzz >>>>>[Find me info on Ploughshare and Farmer...Ploughshare set me, Easy, Claw, Lazuli, Redemption, Glaive, and Imp up. I've got the feeling Farmer is involved in some way, the names HAVE to be connected.]<<<<< -- Shadow (19:17:30 PDT/ 08:01:57) *****PRIVATE: Shadow >>>>>[I'll see what I can do. These guys might be state-sponsored, or possibly some governmental/corporate agency, which may make the search very hard. We're going to have to prepare to take a hit from these guys. If governmental, they probably have some monitoring system for searches into them.]<<<<< -- Buzz (The one the Only...Human Bee in the Matrix) *****PRIVATE: Kor >>>>>[Status is up shit creek. That matter we discussed? It turned out worse than I thought. We killed two of the guys Ploughshare sent to kill us, so of course now I'm one of the prime suspects for the attack on the eatery. This person has good media manipulation skills. At least I know it was me they were after, as well as Redemption. I don't do spray-and-pray work into roomfuls of civilians, at least not for the money Ploughshare was paying. Draws too much heat, attracts too much attention. Any advice or suggestions welcomed. And I can offer you >>encrypted<< for a go-to on this Ploughshare. I want him. Badly. I don't have enough of a rep in Seattle to let someone drek all over it.]<<<<< -- Easy <23:05:32/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Imp >>>>>[Thanks, Imp. Nobody screws you on a run... well, he used *me* to try and screw *you*. That makes me look like a total fragging wilson, and I worked too hard too long to get where I am to let *anyone* ever walk away after they do that to me. I'm short of Seattle contacts. And this shit isn't going to help right now, so I'm uncomfortably dependent on others here. But I want a piece of this guy, preferably his heart, warm and bleeding. Any way I can help you, let me know.]<<<<< -- Easy <23:40:42/08-01-57> *****Private:Ash >>>>>[I do not care. Do not interrupt me again with that petty nonsense or you will feel my wrath. My work is almost complete. Deacon was correct, but he did not take his theory far enough. I have started the final ritual. Nothing else matters. My beloved Luthien will soon live again!}<<<<< -- Wintergeist <19:07:12/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Squatter >>>>>[ I hope you are aware of the urgency here. He'll go deeper, if you let him. Find him within the next two days, and your fee is doubled.]<<<<< -- IMA Pseudonym <18:22:39/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Easy >>>>>[I want Ploughshare. I want him now, and I want him dead. Shall we go after him? I will need a while to heal up, but after that, I say let's do it.]<<<<< -- Redeption <19:19:50/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Imp >>>>>[I want Ploughshare. I want in on whatever nastiness you have planned. Let's go get him.]<<<<< -- Redeption <19:20:21/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Squatter >>>>>[I was on the receiving end of a bit of magical nastiness. I have no proof, but my gut says its Farmer related. watch your back.]<<<<< -- Redemption <19:22:00/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Ploughshare >>>>>[You missed. Game over.]<<<<< -- Redemption <19:24:00/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Lynch >>>>>[I need some info, and I figured you might be the man to contact. It's Farmer-related. I went on a run for a man named Ploughshare. I have no proof, but my gut tells me it was Farmer related. Can you confirm?]<<<<< -- Redemption <19:28:16/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE: Desolation Angel >>>>>[Sorry, but I got a little dinged up. Don't think I'll be interested in that run. Hate to pull out now, but no choice. I would like to reccomend another decker to you. He's worked for me in the past, and he's very reliable. Goes by the name of Squatter. Not sure if he's busy at the moment, but you can give him a try.]<<<<< -- Redemption <19:34:00/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Redemption >>>>>[ Why do you say that? What happened? We need to talk meatside.]<<<<< -- Squatter <19:34:30/8-1-57> *****PRIVATE: Imp, Shadow, Claw, Glaive, Redemption, Easy >>>>>[Attempts on my neurons are one thing, but attempts on my corpuscles are something else entirely. I hope you guys don't mind, but I think I'll stay out of this little dinner theatre. Buy about twenty books and hole up somewhere until I finish reading 'em all... Good hunting, though, Easy. And if you need Matrix backup, gimme a call. Just... don't expect me to show in person for the *next* payoff.]<<<<< -- Lazuli <23:38:06/08-01-57> *****PRIVATE Easy >>>>>[Hit Ploughshare once for my left eye. Please. +++++include ravenflying.trid]<<<<< --Desolation Angel *****PRIVATE: Imp, Claw, Lazuli, Glaive, Redemption, Easy, Shadow >>>>>[Also, check out another Ploughshare cronie called Tractor. It will.... illuminate.]<<<<< -- Desolation Angel (19:15:30 PDT/ 08:01:57) *****PRIVATE: Ploughshare >>>>>[Hello Ploughshare. I'm sure you don't remember me, But me and one of your "friends" meant once. I had to replace my left eye because of that. And now, more people I KNOW are good people do something you don't like. You won't get a way with it. Even though I wasn't there, I have made... assurances. What kind are none of your business. Just remember- sometimes your reach extends your grasp. +++++include raven.pic]<<<<< -- Desolation Angel <10:46:41/08-1-57> ***** PRIVATE Squatter >>>>>[I need a decker, and Redemption recomended you. It's a data run on LoneStar Seattle, with a possible physical run for you and some friends later. I need information on Presidential candidate Dunkelzahn. Here is my offer for the matrix part alone: >>encrypted huge sum of money<<.]<<<<< -- Desolation Angel <10:50:15/08-1-57> >>>>>[Anyone needing info on ploughshare here it is..... or Some at least. +++++include plough1.txt, plough2.txt, >>CORRUPTED<<,plough5.txt]<<<<< -- Collective <10:55:17/08-1-57> *****INTERNAL: Farmer personal log >>>>>[+++++begin transcript "I am incredibly disappointed, Sarah. Only one possible out of the entire group, and two of our people down." Sir, I warned you about the risks. This is an occupational hazard for these shadowrunners, they're accustomed to their employers trying to eliminate them. It would have been easier and safer to simply sever all contact. "They might still have asked questions." Damn it, sir! Now we have all those shadowrunners, and all their contacts, searching for any information they can find on me! CSF are going to notice all the traces bouncing off the firewall, they'll catch one and find it's looking for a non-sanctioned userID, trace it back inside, and we _will_ be caught! "GINELLI! I will not tolerate-" Being told you fragged up? Being told you made the wrong call? Sir, we have a duty to perform here, in difficult conditions, and mistakes happen. None of us is perfect. We need to work out what we did wrong and fix it, and make sure it doesn't happen again. "Yes. Yes, you're right. Very well. Situation?" Easy killed one of our shooters, the other escaped badly wounded. The third, the go-between we hired, died when the anchored spell activated. I don't believe any of the runners were badly hurt, unfortunately. We instigated immediate damage control. Sir, that bothers me. Last time, Lynch was cut off and InterPol were after him, so when Hunter killed our man we could hush it very easily. This time, though, SIGA are not so constrained. "We'll handle SIGA as necessary. Wild Rose will end their intrusions and probing." I hope you're right, sir. In any case, I believe we should terminate the Ploughshare account. "No. We need Shadowland, it's the most secure way we have to communicate while you're in the field. SIGA don't have the computer power to break its privacy codes and they are the only threat outside this building. Inside, there are too many people with too much access." What about the runners? "What about them? You persistently overrate these criminals. I admit they're capable in their field, but if they had the talents you ascribe to them, they would never be scrabbling a living in the underworld." ....Very well, sir. "I'll misdirect CSF as necessary. And as for these runners after you, surely it's obvious? We plant a poorly-encrypted message. Jason Lynch becomes Ploughshare. The runners will turn on him." That's an excellent idea, sir. "Good. See to it. You see, Sergeant? There was no problem after all. I'll forget your alarm and your words: I understand how these minor reverses seem so severe when they happen in your face, so to speak. When do you fly back to Seattle?" Tomorrow night. "Good. Well, on with it." +++++end transcript]<<<<< -- Farmer Log <17:10:32/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Anonymous FishNet User, Temporary Account 43292 >>>>>[Account verified. Terse mode. =Y=42.8 remaining. Your request: Search for ("Humanis Policlub" AND "Auburn") AND "Laura Chin" using standard settings plus content filter level 2, credibility filter level 2. Standard sort criteria, download list when done. +++++searching... 276 references found +++++downloading reference list This session 3.0=Y=. 39.8=Y= remaining.] -- FishNet Public Matrix Search Engine <16:43:32/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Anonymous FishNet User, Temporary Account 43292 >>>>>[Account verified. Terse mode. =Y=39.8 remaining. Your request: Retrieve reference.list.item 56 +++++retrieving item 56 from source "Human Pride BBS" +++++begin retrieved item Peaceful? HAH! Peace my ass! The only time we'll have peace is when the bleeding corpse of the last filthy trog hits the ground! We must infiltrate the weak-kneed Humanis clubs, displace the soft, cowardly country-club appeasers and pacifists who run them, and turn them to achieving the real aim, the extermination of the corrupted ones from our midst! Already we have a few of our people in place. Leon Rashid and Bob Prost in Snohomish. Edwina Clunes in Everett. Laura Chin in Auburn. Freddy Belknap in the Tacoma chapter. We must continue our work! And when we are ready, we will raise on high our sacred banner commemorating the Hundred Score Martyrs of Alamos, and we will purge the filth in a cleansing fire of vengeance! -- Brethren <08:45:14/04-05-57> This session 1.1=Y=. 38.7=Y= remaining.]<<<<< -- FishNet Public Matrix Search Engine <16:49:12/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Anonymous FishNet User, Temporary Account 43292 >>>>>[Account verified. Terse mode. =Y=39.8 remaining. Your request: Retrieve reference.list.item 74 +++++retrieving item 56 from source "Human Pride BBS" +++++begin retrieved item Brethren, you're full of it. Prost low profile? He wears his 20,000 flag pin to rallies, fer Chrissakes. Plus he picks boogers out of his nose and puts them in his ear. Not someone I'd follow down the street, even if there was an Ork begging for a stomping at the end of it. Rashid turned a couple of bangers over after they messed up an Elf girl. Turned'em in to the Star just for messing around with a dandelion-eating slitch. Think he's a believer? Probably got his "More Welfare for Metas" card all paid up. Said he "deplored the action of a few thugs" who "brought disgrace to the Humanis movement". Go figure how slapping an Elfie around a little and then showing her a good time is bringing disgrace to anyone. And it sounds like these days, Chin's swallowed that 'ballots not bullets' crap that those Auburn assholes Samuelson and Zimmerman crank out. I remember when she used to be trying to put firebombs in a gas station store tank in a trog neighbourhood. That woulda been so cool... Now she's a limp-wristed faggot like the rest of those Auburn pussies. Sold out all the way. Humanis isn't about talking and it's nothing to do with democracy. It's about seeing some uppity trog's face come apart when your boot goes in. It's about whether Dwarf tenements burn better than Troll squats. It's about watching a pipe bomb go off in an Ork squaller's pram. It's about having _fun_, damn it! -- Basher Boy <18:14:26/06-05-57> This session 1.1=Y=. 38.7=Y= remaining.]<<<<< -- FishNet Public Matrix Search Engine <16:50:52/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: D J H Coppi++++invalid characters +++++privacy marking revoked +++++general distribution >>>>>[Sir, my Ploughshare account is becoming uncomfortably warm since we missed on the Elven psycho. Could you please increase the security and run a few killer trace-and-destroys on the intruders? I am still confident nobody's linked Lynch and Ploughshare yet, let's try and keep it that way.]<<<<< -- J Lynch <17:12:37/08-02-57> Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency >>>>>[Oh, great. Schizophrenia. Am I real, or a figment of my own imagination? First Jen and Gabe, now me.]<<<<< -- Lynch <17:15:52/08-02-57> *****INTERNAL: SIGANet >>>>>[TO: Cpl J S Karlsbruhn Jake, if you can get me a source on that message, you're due an instant third stripe and an all-expenses-paid vacation to Redmond to visit the shrine of the Great Geek Gates. Go get'em. Be careful. Whoever did this had the means to fool the Shadowland mailer-daemons. You *know* how good they have to be to do that. Damn, I'm glad we messed with the Gruesome Twosome now. Makes this kind of thing a lot harder to pull off.]<<<<< -- The Real Jason Lynch <17:16:42/08-02-57> (It's Probably Jen And Gabe Out For Revenge) *****INTERNAL: SIGANet >>>>>[TO: J R W Lynch He's going to be okay. Severe dump shock, but no neural damage. The paramedics got his heart restarted in time. He's conscious, but not exactly coherent yet. He flatlined trying to cut the NSA's ice. Whatever he was after was behind that wall, and not visible through open channels. He did beat the tracers, though, so they don't know it was us: until we know what the story is, I don't know who to trust with this in there. And, he's good enough that he still has a deck. The only hint of a handle we got for the message's originator was the ID 'Ploughshare'. Mean anything to you? It doesn't to me, yet. See what you can find on SLand. Make it official, but quiet.]<<<<< -- D J H Coppinger <17:43:24/08-02-57> Director Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency *****PRIVATE: Flux >>>>>[Damn good thing you're back, because I have a problem. Our assigned decker just bit off more than he could chew and isn't going to be in shape for a few days. Can you run me a check on someone called 'Ploughshare'? Be careful as hell. Don't try to trace it, that's what nearly got Karlsbruhn killed. The opposition is also smart and capable enough to mess with this place's mail, which I hear is very hard indeed. I already know it terminates inside the NSA. What I need is a go-to on anything that this 'Ploughshare' guy has said or done on Shadowland. I can offer you >>encrypted<< for your help. The footer means it's official. And this means it's the real me - +++++include image: injured_Flux.gif - just so you can be sure who you're talking to.]<<<<< -- Jason R W Lynch <17:45:07/08-02-57> Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency *****Private: Spirit >>>>>[ I just saw something in Shadowland that may give us a big break on my ploughshare problem I told you about. DO you know anything about a man called Lynch. +++include Messed-up-private-message. What info do you have so that I can start hunting him? Shadow and a few others may join me.]<<<<< -- Claw <10:23:40/08-02-57> *****Private: Claw >>>>>[ I have a hard time believing that this involves Lynch. He is pretty well known now in Shadowland. It seems he works for a S.I.G.A a government organization that has a view towards criminals much like you do. >From all that I have seen and heard, he is a man of action, not one from behind the scenes (he just paid Craig and Me 10k for some fun little arrows.) He is an expert shot with a gun and if he wanted Easy and Redemption dead, he would have done it himself and they would nolonger be with the living. Besides, grounding through spell locks also isn't his style, he does have magical support when needed, but usually refrains from to much magic. So, I did a check in your message into Shadowland (the non accessible part) . Anyway, it looks as if the system was hacked and the message inserted. Hacking a message into Shadowland is about 1.5 times as hard as looking at them illicitly (they don't mind freedom of information as much as they hate changing of info). This trail led me back to the Firewall at the NSA. My new icon and Programs for a NSA run are about a day from completion, I don't want them thinking of Spirit when they look into who hacked their system. Contact the rest of the crew that was attacked and set up a meeting. Invite Lynch along and tell Shadow to have Buzz come also (he is probably helping Shadow, and he has NSA contacts.) We need to share all of our info on what is going on. I have a feeling most everyone that we invite will have a bigger piece of the puzzle. Oh - I want three from your magical group with me when I hack the NSA system (hopefully with Buzz). I don't want any disturbance to my little one while I'm in my first trimester. Make sure one of them is Dancing with Bear, he is the best healer in your group. Last time I broke in, the NSA was a black glacier. They are probably a UV system now.]<<<<< -- Spirit *****Private: Lynch, Easy, Redemption, Shadow, Imp, Glaive >>>>>[ I am a very reticent speaker, so this will be short. We all seem to have a problem with a man by the name of Ploughshare. He has tried to kill Easy and Redemption with us in the crossfire. He then attempted to make Lynch appear to be him. What I suggest is that we meet to discuss the problem and bring forward information that the others may not know. So far, Spirit, a friend of mine, has traced Ploughshare to the NSA system. She will attend the meeting. Shadow, Spirit asked that you bring Buzz to the meeting, he has a very good working knowledge of the Gov, and you have probably sent him looking for info already. Lynch - We will keep the meeting as secret as possible. I would like to try and make it seem as id we believe you to be Ploughshare. I didn't send this to Lazuli since she requested that we don't involve her for health reasons. So, meet at >>encrypted<< and we will compare info. This message is secure. The hunt is on, and the Panther stalks the night.]<<<<< -- Claw ***** INTERNAL: Serenity Security >>>>>[The view opens to show a darkened hallway of some dilapidated building, in the heart of the barrens. From the camera angle you can tell that you are viewing footage shot from a helmet camera. The lower left corner, flashes "JRS" indicating Officer Stormwind as the wearer. The camera looks away from the door of apartment "6", the number barely held in place by a wad of bubble gum, to come to rest on a bulky female troll dressed in a Serenity Security uniform. Her facial expression shows that she is genuinely concerned. Christine cocks her head to the side, nods, and then moves to the the left. The image pans to the left to focus on Castor, a Hell Hound, and Tamlyn, thin human male, also dressed in the light armor bearing Serenity's colors. Tamlyn also nods his agreement and moves into position closer to the apartment's door. The camera turns to face the door once more. "Trax, there is no answer at the door, we are entering the apartment and hoping for the best.", Jason's voice sounds slow and reserved. "Video and audio links up. Are you recieving?" "You're coming in clean. I've got 2 condor's in the air, in position in 2" "I'll take point. Tamlyn, you and Castor have my back. Chris, you bring up a slow rear. On three." The camera jerks quickly downward as Jason reaches out for the door with his left hand, in his right you see a sawed off combat shotgun pointed towards the door's jamb. Jason looks back at the two in the hall, nods, and shoulders open the door, bringing the shot gun to bear. He quickly sweeps the room, left to right, and back again. Castor enters the room, head low to the ground, followed quickly by Tamlyn, who is carrying a gun that you would swear was about as big as he is. JRS: "Im clear" Tamlyn: "Same here." Christine: "We've entered apartment number 6. No sign of our charge. Sweeping and securing apartment". Trax: "Ok. Drones in place shortly. Showing no activity around the outside of the building" JRS: "Chris, rear gaurd, Tam, room on left, Ill take right. Go" The image jumps as Jason moves on the door on the right. He pauses for a second, and pushes open the door to the bedroom. Again he sweeps the rooms but finds nothing more than a rumpled futon-like bed, and bits and pieces of take-out soy products strewn about the floor. There is a small hooded lantern still buring near the head of the make-shift bed. Tamlyn: "Fraggit! Medic! Castor, " The hallway bounces past as Jason rushes to Tamlyn's side. He cautiously enters the room to find Tamlyn kneeling besides the bathtub, soaking wet and holding a lifeless body. The water, crimson in color, is still splashing over the sides from where Tamlyn wrestled with the body. Trax: "DocWagon has been dispatched." JRS: "Get DocWag...Thank you." Christine: "Trax, lock down Tam's camera." Trax: "You are all locked down as of 19:23:17. LoneStar has been notified." JRS: "Lay him down. Draw a sample." Christine: "My image is grainy, Trax, can you enhance?" Trax: "Done" Christine: "I have identification. Thats our charge" JRS: "Trax, start feeding me back Tam's footage from the time he entered the room. Dump it directly to internal mememory, Ill grind on it in a second" Neuron Basher: "I've got that covered. No enhancement. You're good to go, Jas" Tamlyn: "Hey's way gone. No pulse, no nothing. I'd say suicide from the cuts on the wrists." JRS: "Your footage shows he was face down when you entered, thats not suicide." Jason rolls the body onto its back. The camera zooms in on the victim's wrists, each in turn, to show the deep gash across the vein. Then to the bloody razor blade laying on the edge of the basin. Trax: "DocWagon is landing outside. I hope you are finished in there" Christine: "Trax, our 'out of place' visitor, how far away has he gotten?" Trax: "Not very. I have a drone on him, but he seems to know I am there. He is driving west on 228 towords 208, Ill lose him there for sure" Tamlyn: "Catch!" Jason turns in time to see Tam slump to the ground. JRS: "No...Damnit. Tam's gone astral. Do you have the DMV report on the vehicle yet?" Trax: "Yes, I also have incoming for you from Maria" JRS: "Hold that one up..." 3 DocWagon employees enter the room. Two holding AK-97's and the third a med kit. JRS: "Officer Jason Stormwind, Serenity Security -- 1 body, dead. Apparent suicide. Request enough time finish preliminary checks" Ridge: "Ridge, Medic, DocWagon. When we are done, you can do whatever you like" JRS: "Understood." Jason's camera follows the medic into the bath and watches intently as he works his 'magic' over the body. A few minutes later Ridge stands and walks back out. Ridge: "Nothing we can do. He's a squatter, where are we sending the bill for this?" JRS: "Serenity will pick it up. Thanks for the quick response. Formalities out of the way, can you cart for us? We'll need a workup on him to see what really happened here." Ridge: "Yeah, no problem. Gotta move in 5, can you finish up in that time?" JRS: "Sure." With that, Jason walks back into the bath and resumes his preliminary assesment. Trax: "The elf has made it to 208, heading north. I've lost him. Maria is getting impatient." JRS: "Damn, Ridge's arrival set me off, patch her through. *pause* Maria won't send anyone in to assist." Christine: "No surprise there, we are only a couple miles from GC, _WE_ don't want to be here! Trax, I'm coming out to the van, I need my fingerprint kit." The camera peek around the corner to watch Chris walk from the apartment then turns back to both bodies on the floor. Jason moves over to Tamlyn and lifts his body and moves it out to the living room. Castor follows, not letting Tam out of his sight. Back in the bathroom, gloved hands carefully look over the body. Meticulously going over it inch by inch. Slowly turning the body over the the image swiftly zooms in on a small fading purple mark at the base of the neck. Neuron Basher: "That cinches it." JRS: "Yeah. I didnt expect to find anything at all. Figured the perp would have used squirt or gas to bring him down. I guess he figured the bruise would have drained faster, or that no one would care enough to check. Great." Neuron Basher: "Focus on the bruise again." Jason follows the directions and slowly draws his eye back along the victim's shoulder blade and stops. Neuron Basher: "No, up...on the neck. See the ring?" JRS: "Yeah, I suspect it was either with a hand or a sap of some sort." Neuron Basher: "I agree" >From behind you can hear a slightly groggy Tamlyn clear his throat. Tamlyn: "I'd love to say I lost him, but I never found him. Too much drek floating around out there. Can barely see my hand infront of my face." JRS: "Null. Its ok, man. You didn't have the backup you needed anyway." Ridge: "Times up -- We've just been put back in the call queue and can be reassigned any second now. I need your stiff if I am going to take him with us." JRS: "We're done. Thanks." Ridge: "Jason, I need your signature for this transfer." JRS: "Damn, I was hoping you would forget" Ridge: "Never. It comes out of MY paycheck if I blow it" JRS: "Amazing how the 'paper'-pushers cover their asses. Here ya go. Thanks again." +++++ END TRANSMISSION Christine checked over the apartment, the only finger prints we found were belonging to the victim. LSS is shit-canning the investigation. I have to make call my contact to close out this call. Damnit, I hate when we lose!]<<<<< -- Jason R. Stormwind <20:24:37 / 08-02-57> Field Officer Serenity Security ***** PRIVATE: Rosha >>>>>[Greetings -- I'd like to get together with you to talk over the results of our contract. When will you have time?]<<<<< -- Jason R. Stormwind <20:35:38 / 08-02-57> Field Officer Serenity Security ***** PRIVATE: Trax >>>>>[Page me when Rosha gets back to me. Could you set up a meeting and just let me know when / where it is? I'd rather not go to Misha's. I've got bad news. I'd also like you there to make sure everything goes well. I dont think I will need a lot of backup, but I always get paranoid when I have to tell a client that we lost their cookie. Ill ask Christine if she has anything to do tonight. She's always good to have around.]<<<<< -- Jason R. Stormwind <20:35:41 / 08-02-57> ***** INTERNAL: Christine Hartman, Field Officer, Serenity Security >>>>>[Trax is setting up a meeting with me within the next few days with Rosha, the client for the botched job. I'd like you around, if you dont mind]<<<<< -- Jason <20:51:10 / 08-02-57> >>>>>[+++++download PostInt802.clp "LoneStar Police report that at approximately 3 am last night, Cpl. Tonya Finneran of the United Canadian and American States Army was found dead on Rte. 203 at the eastern end of the Redmond Barrens. Finneran's body was reportedly horribly mutilated and found dangling upside down from a highway light. Sgt. Mitch Gondot, Lone Star, said, "This is a horrible travesty. This young woman served her country courageously. For her to die this way, ... it's ... it's ... All I know is, we're gonna find the guy that did this." Finneran was transferring to a new job in Minneapolis in two days. Police believe that she was abducted from near her home in the Renton district, and then taken to the highway. The police have a suspect. He is a 6'-6'5 Ork with large lower teeth, olive complexion, and a purple mohawk haircut. If you spot this individual, keep away! He is extremely dangerous. Contact Lone Star and move to a safe location. Cpl. Finneran was 27 years old and is survived by her parents and younger brother. +++++end_of_file +++++display finn.jpg A window flashes open revealing the view described in the article clipping. The woman is hanging about 10 feet off the ground, her feet bound to a rope which is tied at the highest point on the lamppost. The tattered remnants of her military uniform are more magenta than standard issue green from the blood dried all over it. There is an inset close-up of the woman's face--her irises have rolled up into her head, but she wears a frighteningly large smile on her face, which makes the image even more haunting with the blood trails flowing from hundreds of cuts all over her face. Abruptly, a message flashes across the bottom of the photo. "TWO CAN PLAY THIS GAME. STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME." {r}]<<<<< -- Otty Nxumalo <17:38:33/08-02-57> Division Surgeon UCAS Armory, Snohomish District *****INTERNAL: Cpt. Wilkerson >>>>>[Jesus, Cpt.! Finneran was supposed to be out two days ago! How? Frag it, we've gotta collect this AWOL now! Maybe you don't care but Finneran and I were friends! If you don't act, I will. Take whatever measures against me you will, sir, but we can't allow this! It was on the evening_ fragging_news, for God sakes! And those tools won't nab her. This ends tonight, sir.]<<<<< -- Sgt. Michael Fuller <17:48:19/08-02-57> Regional Supervisor, Zone 2c UCAS SFRT *****INTERNAL: Sgt. Fuller >>>>>[Belay that, Sargeant! If you can't hold it down, I'll put it down on you myself! NO ONE feels worse about Finneran's death and the circumstances surrounding that I do. In the future, I suggest you don't start fucking operatives who work in such volatile fields. That said. We have already traced the rogue's last transmission. We should have her in custody momentarily. I am assigning you to the debriefing team effective immediately. You'll have 12 hours alone with her until I arrive to take her back to Central. Any collateral damage will be understood. If my package doesn't walk when I arrive, you don't walk out alive.]<<<<< -- Cpt. Nelson Wilkerson Tactical Commander UCAS SFRT *****INTERNAL: Sgt. McIlvaine >>>>>[You had better have good news for me. And if you don't, I can't protect your a_s from the RegSupe. Respond.]<<<<< -- Cpt. Nelson Wilkerson Tactical Commander UCAS SFRT *****INTERNAL: Cpt. Wilkerson >>>>>[I'm sorry, sir. The target must have prepped the message beforehand, then just ran it and exited from this target site. She laughing at us, sir. Nxumalo will be OK in a couple days, she SLUDded him, he had no idea what hit him. The base was on shift change, there were twice the normal people on post as normal. She's long gone. Suggest we continue work to speed the normal trace procedure, otherwise we're all just wasting our time.]<<<<< -- Sgt. Sean McIlvaine Acquistion Team Leader, Zone 2c UCAS SFRT *****INTERNAL: Sgt. McIlvaine >>>>>[Your suggestion is noted, Sgt. Here's one in return. Don't sling that drek at Sgt. Fuller. Tell him you fragged up, take responsibility. Then send some nice flowers to Cpl. Finneran's funeral. And don't frag anything else up anytime soon.]<<<<< -- Cpt. Nelson Wilkerson Tactical Commander UCAS SFRT *****PRIVATE: Jason R Stormwind >>>>>[Let's meet at >>encrypted<<. Y'password'll be >>encrypted<<. I'll show shortly thereafter. Grac again for doin this. Won't forget it. {r}]<<<<< -- Christos <17:15:47/08-01-57> Manager Stuffer Shack, Redmond *****PRIVATE: Kor >>>>>[I could use a little help. Right now I'm in trouble: pulled off a job, as far as I could tell did everything right (first time I'd led one, but it was a milk run) and my Johnson tries to kill me. The individual in question is called "Ploughshare". (S)he's also the guy with the supposedly careless subordinate, whose four minions I eliminated. A group of aggrieved parties are meeting at >>encrypted<<, me included. This sounds big. People are talking in acronyms I had to look up, SIGA and NSA and stuff like that. I'm not used to working at this level. Bluntly, I'm scared and I'd like someone I trusted along to back me up. I can pay you if necessary (I'll spring for the meal in any case). The other thing is, pass the word to your acquaintance at Serenity. I may be too hot a property for him to be linked to right now: there are hot warrants out on me right now. He helped me out when I really needed it, I don't want to get him in trouble.]<<<<< -- Easy <00:34:32/08-03-57> *****INTERNAL: SIGANet >>>>>[TO: D J H Coppinger, Director David, I just ran into an old friend. Jedburgh, from the Company. You'd better see for yourself what we had to talk about. +++++begin simsense/trideo transcription The view is into the engine compartment of a car, and a powerful one. The cylinder block is a V-12, and a powerful blower squats in the angle: though the engine space is large, the motor fills it. The viewer seems to be checking, cleaning and regapping the spark plugs when a voice calls out. "Ho there! How's the Leopard Lady?" A Southern accent. Lilith's view twists around to take in a bulky man in a rumpled linen suit. At a glance he looks fat, but you recognise that his size is mostly muscle, with just a little middle-aged spread to widen his waist. "Well, well, well, look who crawled out from under his rock in the Yucatan. Darius Chester Jedburgh, as I live and breathe." Lilith's New York drawl sounds pleased. "How are you?" "Oh, I'm okay. Just back home to clean up the paperwork, tidy up a few loose ends, that kind of thing." "How's Austin?" Jedburgh pauses, then shrugs. His friendly smile fades. "Austin's dead, Lilith." "Oh, shit, Darius. I'm sorry. Any idea who?" "Nope. Some Aztlan sniper knew exactly where to wait. Time, place. Austin was waiting for an airdrop, just one face among nine, the sniper fired one shot, killed her outright. You believe in that kind of coincidence?" "No." Lilith closes the car's hood - you recognise her Interceptor - and turns to Jedburgh. "But you're not here because of Austin. Except if there's a leak and we find it, I'll FedEx you the guy's balls." "Thanks, Lilith. I came here because we got an estimate on something called Wild Rose. Some wild-ass plan to wipe out SIGA, supposedly." "Again?" The woman sounds amused as she lights a cigarette, offers the pack to Jedburgh who gratefully accepts. "Yep. Revenge hit, by a A or AA corporation, for SIGA messing with some plan or other. Real wild-ass shit, something vague about artillery and shelling the Pentagon. Just wondered if you'd heard anything about it." "No. Wild Rose... No. Hope you didn't pay much for it." "Ten thousand, cash, as part of a batch. Most of the batch turned out to be sort of right, but all too damn vague to be any use." Jedburgh produces a hip flask, offers it to Lilith who unscrews it. "To Austin, and the trails she blazed." She takes a slug, adds something in another language, drinks again and hands the flask back to Jedburgh. "A-men." Jedburgh also drinks, and there is a long silence. "Thanks for the tip. Might be a threat there." Lilith draws on her Marlboro. "We'll watch it." "Yeah. Well, when we caught the sniper, he said he got his tipoff from some guy called Harrow. Time, place, and pictures of Austin. Might mean much, might not. He died before he got too talkative." Jedburgh flexes his fingers. "Pity. I was kind of emotional at the time, didn't maintain the proper detachment." "Yeah. It's a bitch when that happens." "The pictures were from her CIA file, though. You and Lynch still...?" "Hoping to get married. Just arranging the venue. You're invited, of course." +++++end recording We cut to personal stuff after that. Damn it, David, I knew Beverly, we can't afford to lose people like that. And Harrow was one of Karlsbruhn's names. I didn't tell Darius that, yet. I hope he forgives me for that. I really don't like the sound of this. If these guys are selling out CIA advisors in the Yucatan as well as going after SIGA and trying to kill shadowrunners, it shows an unpleasant ruthlessness, and either an alarming lack of intelligence or a frightening arrogance.]<<<<< -- 1Lt Lilith DiAnnio <00:54:42/08-03-57> *****PRIVATE: Redemption >>>>>[Farmer and now Ploughshare. This is getting nasty. I know Farmer tried to hire someone to kill me, twice. First time was a guy called Blade, who happens to be a good buddy of mine. Whoops. Hirer gets dead real fast, whole incident gets hushed real fast. You were the second try. We've started looking. It looks like a faction inside the Government - inside NSA, which makes things really tricky - someone running out of control. It happens, and it's one of the things we - that is, SIGA - try to keep in check. Stay in touch. I'll keep you informed.]<<<<< -- Lynch <00:13:32/08-03-57> *****PRIVATE: Claw, Easy, Redemption, Glaive, Shadow, Imp >>>>>[I'm up for the meeting, if you want me there. I won't look much like myself, and thanks for the low profile. Thanks for trusting me, too.]<<<<< -- Lynch <00:15:42/08-03-57> >>>>>[I am the Walrus!]<<<<< -- Jake *****INTERNAL: SIGANet >>>>>[Someone get Karlsbruhn off the Net and back in bed, for Chrissakes!]<<<<< -- 2Lt E Valera <01:13:21/08-03-57> Matrix Division Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency *****Private: Cat in the Hat >>>>>[ Ah have more info on Laura Chin at the moment. After what we've gathered so far, Ah really don't see why we just don't accept the Humanis job. While Ah really hate humanis, Ah would like the current Auburn power grouping ta stay the way it is, and from the looks of it, if we don't step in the scales may tip in a direction that will have worse effects on many of my pointy eared friends. Grant seems ta be fairly straight forward in whats going on, and the run itself should not be hard.]<<<<< -- Circuit Breaker ***** PRIVATE: Easy >>>>>[Friends are hard to come by in the shadows and I never turn my back on my friends. Tell me what you need, and it is yours. I dont have a lot of personel to dispatch right now, but I think I can ask around to see if there is anyone interested in doing this Gratis. NSA -- Thats a group that I havent heard of in a while. They dont have the teeth that that once did, but rumor has it, that they are doing their best to get that "above all" power back. SIGA -- Not sure on this one. Database searches come up with a number of different things, mostly feelings I have. I think there are a couple officers I know that are involved with that organization. I could check to see how my land lines are working there to see if they are able to help. I've checked with InterPol and dont see anyone there after you, well, other than Drake's people. They are always out for shadowrunners. I dont think you will take this advice, but Im going to give it anyway -- Cut and run. Take a little time off. CL is where some of my people like to go when it gets too warm around Seattle. Hell, even Denver or CalFree might offer you enough of a change that you can get yourself into a better light. Barring that, which I assume you will, find out who you are fighting. ]<<<<< --Jason R. Stormwind <02:11:56 / 08-03-57> Field Officer Serenity Security ***** PRIVATE: Easy >>>>>[Message relayed. I have a safe house at >>encrypted<<. You can hang there, do whatever meetings you need to do. Leave a light on for me. I might stop by later this night. I'd appreciate it if you not shoot me when I come in so Ill call the house phone before I show up.]<<<<< -- Kor <03:19:55 / 08-03-57> *****PRIVATE: Desolation Angel >>>>>[ Sorry, I'm kind of busy just now. I've already got one job, and I'm also fighting off a hostile secret government organisation. Also, I doubt you could get that amount of money to me in cash, and I don't take cred. If you can wait though, I'd be glad to help later. When are the elections anyway?] -- Squatter <20:55:35/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Squatter >>>>>[I can't recall the date. You'll be dealing with one part of Ploughshares organization on that day, anyways. Maybe you'll see me. The guy with the wings of a raven. Sorta. Not kidding about the wings.] -- Desolation Angel <20:55:35/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Circuit Breaker >>>>>[I and my friends agree that there don't seem to be any spoilers on this one. We should arrange another physical meet to put together the plan Grant wants. How about ?]<<<<< -- Cat in the Hat <20:40:40/08-02-57> *****Private: Cat in the Hat >>>>>[ Sound good sugar. Ah'll see ya there. Are your friends coming as well?]<<<<< -- Circuit Breaker *****PRIVATE: Mahjongg >>>>>[ +++++engage Mercurial Seems your Mr. Doe is some species of elven Tir royalty. So-called "Duke" Liam Di Caela, with a small fifedom outside of the Eugene area. Arrogant, barely philanthropic, nouveau riche with a vengeance and a rather tight circle of friends, associates, and cronies that he doesn't step outside often. Has a token wife and numerous dalliances; fairly obviously the type to get bored easily. Known to conduct much of his dealings through his chief of security, a Gregory de L'Argent, also elven. Greg has a reputation for being efficient and thorough, and not at all light-handed when dealing with impediments to his master's business. A bit of court gossip makes him out to be some sort of rather sick fuck in private, but so far his professionalism hasn't been wanting. Needless to say that this is probably the person who contacted you. These folks are rumored to be in on the shadowy stuff, but noone I asked knows anything definite about what these folks are up for. Up and coming nobel trying to gain broader clout in the world maybe? In any event, you'll note how large the volume of business this guy rides herd on is, and if this person is coming to people like us for work, you figure that this guy must at least think he knows something about the seamy side of the biz. +++++encryptRAN +++++include <> +++++normal A pleasure doing business, as always. +++++disengage Mercurial.]<<<<< --Synthesis <23:11:12 / 08-02-57> *****PRIVATE: Circuit Breaker >>>>>[Yes, they'll be there.]<<<<< -- Cat in the Hat <23:17:04/08-02-57> *****PRIVATE Lynch >>>>>[However you and Ploughshare are connected..... I know enough about Jason Lynch to know that I will protect him rather then kill. I have a bit of a "Batman" complex. It makes me what I am. All the various Lynches have to think is, "Who am I?"]<<<<< -- Desolation Angel >>>>>[+++++begin encounter with an angel through security camera.trid The warehouse is empty, save for the two men in the black armour coats with a blood red "N" on the back, and the girl tyed up in the coner. She is stuggling, trying to spit out her gag, trying to break free of her bonds. The two men speak directly to the camera. Thug One:What now, boss? A voice seemingly coming from behind the camera speaks in a firm, solem tone, calm as possible. Voice: Now, Moonlight, you may feed. But slowly. Moonlight: Right boss. Boss: Then, bring the body and the zombie to me. The second thug looks at the camera. There is the blank stare of the dead in his eyes, and the palour of the grave on him. Moon: Yes Boss. Boss: Oh, and Moonlight, you can have some fun first. Moonlight smiles at the camera, then turns to the girl. M:Hear that, honey, (Flashes a pair of fangs) we're going to fuck, then I'll eat. Girl, panicing, screaming through the gag, crying, when- SOUND: Glass falling, camera blocked by somthing black. When the black fades, Moon appears very dead, and a European man with black wings grafted to his back, dressed totaly in black, holding the unconsious girl before him. Man: Sorry, O' Rein, but when Desolation and Angel Meld, you get Desolation Angel.And I'm going to desolate you. The man's eye's flash and the camera goes blank....... +++++ end trid file]<<<<< -- NewBot