Mission - The Package

Date: 02/01/2050

The Team:
 * Walker
 * Fade
 * Felix
 * Steppen Wolf

Background: For various personal reasons, the team members had individually put the word out that they were looking for work. Fracker, an up and coming fixer, called them all in for a face to face meet. Fracker was at Gracie's for Ribs, downtown Seattle. While the team arrived on time, Gracie took a minute or two to finish his ribs. The team was not invited to join him, and suggestion that should were met with an abrupt "ya won't be here that long to eat them." ''Ok, Chummers, lets lay the cards on the table. No matter who ya all think ya arrr, ya all nobodies, nuttin's. But me, I'ma gunna giva ya all a chance. I wanta to meet Mr Johnson tonight at 4am at the Alabaster Maiden, a nightclub just around the corna. The boys at the door will know who ya arr. No let me make this clear to ya chummers. This is ya one and only chance. Don't go an' screw it up! Be polite to Mr Johnson, do what he says, don't bitch about nuthin' and keep any questions ya have short and simple. Its meant ta be a quick courier job, something easy, so ya should be able to ta do this. If ya screw up, don't come back. There ain't na second chances in this biz. Ya all got me? We clear chummers? Good. Now scram. Get outta here, can't ya see i've gut buziness to attend?''" Fracker goes back to a new serve of ribs as the team leave.

4am 3/01/2050 The team arrived at the Alabaster Maiden at on time and quickly caught up in the street outside. The Alabaster Maiden was a magic user’s night club, a place for young mages and shamans to hang out away from the mundane drekkers of the city. As the team watches, a gaggle of young college girls are stopped at the door by two plain dressed men. A quick glance and they are told to leave. Only the awakened can party here. The team are stopped at the door. The bouncers may not have the traditional physical bulk, but their confidence radiates concealed power. “''We know who you are. Door by the bar goes to a back room. His waiting”'' The bouncers turn away as more wanna be’s approach the club entrance. After checking their weapons in at a booth at the bottom of the stairs into the club, the team make their way in to the club. The DJ is playing Til Es Hault to the crowd as the rock and sway to the music. A larger number than normal are laid out on the couches, perhaps enjoying the music in the astral. Spirits of various sorts spark and fizzle above the crowd, providing a more surreal light show then the normal lasers and strobes. The team made their way to the door by the bar and knocked. Despite the noise of the club, they all here the clear voice, “Enter”

The room is small, Spartan but not without class. Wooden polished floors, oak walls, and a small round table with four spare wooden chairs. A fifth is occupied by a stranger, his face masked by a wide brim hat, his body heavy cloaked. A bottle of red wine sat on the table with enough glasses for the team. As the door closed behind them, the sounds of the club completely disappeared. It was if the team was somewhere else... “''It’s nice to finally meet you all. Hmm... I expected a larger team. Have a seat for a moment and a glass of wine”.'' “''I need you to collect a package for me and delivery it. You will have one hour to complete the job. How does that sound to you gentlemen?”'' The team accepted the job, but not without some questions... Team: “How much?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Mr Johnson''“¥1,000 each sound fine? It is just a 1 hour job”'' <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Team: “Where is the package?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Mr Johnson: “A Stuffer Shack, corner of 112th Avenue and West Lake Sammamish Parkway” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Team: “What is the package?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Mr Johnson: “The package will come to you” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Team: “Where will we deliver the package?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Mr Johnson: “''You will be contacted. Now, enough questions, you have less than 1 hour to get to the location and pick up my package. Go, go, go.”'' <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">The Johnson waved the team out. Steppen Wulf stopped briefly at the bar to order a vodka, but Walker and Felix quickly pushed him away from the bar and into the cold night air.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">It was the dead of winter in Seattle, with ice on the roads and a fine icy drizzle. Walker shivered as he calculated the time needed to get to the Stuffer Shack from the club... It was going to be close. The team piled into Walker’s small economic sedan, Steppen Wulf crowding the back seat. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker sped through the early morning streets of Seattle, squinting through the rain, zipping around the slow moving vehicles of this early morning. Walker made good time and pulled his car up to the entrance of the Stuffer Shack.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">The team made their way in and quickly spread out through the store. Great tracts of neon and fluorescent lights that leech away colour to make everything a uniform, dull gray indicate that you have arrived at the home of synth-alcohol, soykaf, porno-simchips, Holohayo 3D greeting cards, pneumatic fluid for your bike, cheap fetish trinkets for the magical wannabes, soygrits, and a full line of stuffers with no redeeming nutritional or social value.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Yep, the good ol’ Stuffer Shack, home to a smell you can’t recognize (and probably don’t want to) and thousands of nuyen worth of stomach-rotting chow. As an added benefit, it’s open 24-7-365. The store clerk is flipping through a holo-zine as his girlfriend sits on a stool next to the counter babbling incessantly about her completely uneventful day. A young couple in full punk regalia is shopping sullenly for cat food. A thin nervous man searches the ice-cream cases frantically as though his life hung in the balance. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">In other words, everything is normal for a Stuffer Shack, even at 4 am. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Fade spent some time talking to the clerk and his girlfriend, giving them a quick shock with an illusion of the dwarf girlfriend all done up. The rest of the team eyeballed the remaining customers and began to wonder where the package was? <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">You look up as a mildly attractive elf woman enters the store with a wailing child in tow. The other clientele of the Stuffer Shack wrinkle your noses at the offending noise, which is spoiling the remnants of their Saturday night stupor. Suddenly a violent explosion erupts form the parking lot spraying glass and Stuffers across the room. The wall caves in and dangling fluorescent lamps spray sparks as they sway precariously. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">After a few moments of shocked silence, two large figures step through the gaping blast hole that used to be the front of the Stuffer Shack, guns drawn, faces tense. The uglier of the two shouts, “''None of ya’s is gonna get hurt if ya keep yer yaps shut and stay outta the way. Now tell me where the lady with tha baby is and you all is gonna live to see sunrise''.” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">The recovers quickly. Walker taisers one of the hit men knocking him out and Fade sends a stun bolt at the second. Steppen Wulf charges the stunned second attacker, knocking him to the ground. With the massive troll sitting on him, the second gunman is subdued. Suddenly Walker feels a massive punch to the stomach and blood in his mouth. His sees a figure in the car park, lit by the flames of an exploded vehicle. Quickly taking aim he fires his taiser and hits the shaman hit man directly between his eyes. The magic user drops the car park ground and twitches slightly. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Felix and Walker quickly lift the fallen shelves of the elven lady and her baby. She was deeply in shock, particularly when she saw the wreckage of her car. The team quickly realise that the baby is the ‘package’. The store phone rings and Walker answers. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Caller: “Do you have the package?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker: “Is the package the girl and baby?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Caller: “Are they unharmed?” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker: “They look fine” <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Caller: “''Take them to this address. Be there in 10 minutes”'' <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker gathered up the team and quickly explained to the elf, Brandeen, that they were taking her to safety. Brandeen numbly followed the team into the car park. Walker’s car had been parked right next to Brandeen’s and the it looked a bit busted up. Broken windows, dented heavily on the right side... ouch! Walker mentally noted that it looked like more than a ¥1,000, but at least the car still worked... mostly. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">As the team headed to the drop off location, Fade placed his hands on Walker’s shoulders and focuses his healing energy into the hurt driver. Walker felt him pain ease quickly, making it easier to focus navigating the cold, wet streets. The entire team shivered as the sleety rain came through the broken windows. Brandeen briefly rambled something about her boyfriend trying to kill her because of her baby boy, Cody. Something about him being a married Ares executive... <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker pulled the alley way that the mysterious caller mentioned. A black van waited for them. As Walker stepped out of his car, several men came out of the van. They looked like professionals, constantly moving, looking for trouble. Their leader, his firm voice unmistakable as the caller, stepped up to Walker. “You have the package” the Caller asked as he eyeballed the damage car with some suspicion. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker “''Yes, she and the kid are in the car. There shaken, but fine”'' <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Caller “''Good, well done. Here’s your payment”'' <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Caller handed over an envelope and then walked to the car. As Caller helped Brandeen out of the car, Walker checked the contents of the package. 4 unmarked credsticks with ¥1,500 each, plus four ticked to Underworld 93, to see some concert staring Maria Mercurial. <p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">Walker noted the last item with interest and returned to the car. The last the team saw of Brandeen was a sad, lost look on her face as she was gently shuffled into the black van. The van quickly pulled away and disappeared in the streets of Seattle...