After the con is before the con. And I’m having a bad feeling about this. But first things first.
When Neil returned from his trip, wherever he has been, the trouble in the Nest started. The war between The First Nations and the Crimson Crush about The Verge started with Neil’s shadow clinic as a kind of M.A.S.H. in this war.
But that’s not my problem, I am sure Neil will deal with that. My trouble started with a phone call of one of my contacts, who lives in New York. I know him as “David”. I don’t know much about him, I have met the guy at that party a few weeks ago with the Blood Mountain Boys, somewhere in Snohomish County on the soil of the NAN. Yeah, that party where I accidentally smoked a bit of Tempo, got a bit high and was intercepted on the way back to Seattle just behind the border on the 9, where I was coming back on my bike and a bunch of Dandelions from the Ancients-Gang tried to tease me by shooting at me and trying to kill me or something. Whatever. It was a weird feeling this chase-race while being doped. I almost laughed my ass off.
But at that party I made contact with this David. I guess he has contacts to the Jewish Mob there, because I successfully arranged some deals with stones I got my hand on in the following weeks. Then David called to offer me this job I’m now in.
It’s a Con job. He was not going too much into details until I finally said yes and took off to Boston. “You have to play the girlfriend of a guy who is in a coma after some accident yesterday. You have to come quick. Pay is good.”
Well, I didn’t exactly ask how much it was. I am getting a bit rusty on my runner skills, I just got a percentage. “Ten”, he said. Sounds okay for me. And it will last a few days to maximum two weeks. But I don’t know. “All you need will be provided. Just come! Fast as you can.”
Fynn got his will to finally travel to the Nest and meet some of the kids there, he will live at Neil’s, some of the people take care of him and I was off. With no weapons, armor or anything but some basic survival stuff like a pocket utility knife, some first aid stuff, clothing’s and after some considerations my Commlink.
I was met by a Hacker in a cheap ride, who first didn’t notice me as his contact. Then he insisted that I put all my stuff in a bag. Thinking of RFID and stuff, I accepted this, but I ordered him to stop at a post office, where I sent my Commlink back to Seattle. I don’t give that thing away. No way. There too much work and value in that thing and I’ve seen often enough my stuff getting nicked. Not that I haven’t nicked most of that stuff myself, but I still don’t like being nicked. Call it some professional quirk of mine. I really go berserk when someone steals from me. Most of the stuff I’ve earned over my life as a runner got nicked. Most of the interesting stuff anyway.
And then I found myself quite vulnerable. I’m such an idiot. I could have spirited away some of the stuff but after that I was almost stripped. He was going shopping to put me in some ridiculous gear, like a photo I have from a catalog and accessoires like this . You might get an idea how I’m looking right now.
My new SIN is “Lisa Edelstein”, which I find quite a nice handle, if you ask me. He drove me to a lower class housing area, where I live in the forth floor in a small flat. After learning everything about the neighborhood that I needed to know, about the job I have and everything and a very professional three hour gaming session in this Mystic game, my character is playing and which is the reason I got my datajack implant, I slowly got nervous. And when I get nervous I get suspicious. And when I get suspicious I get paranoid. No not paranoid but… damn. I don’t have an other word for that, but I’m no nut-job, is that clear? I just get careful!
So. What do I have now?
I have a gigantic pink handbag with lots of stuff. This wouldn’t be important if this was just something I have, but it’s more or less all I have at the moment. Some cheap make-up, lots of it, pocket mirror, nail-set (with paint-remover and a bit of minute-glue to fix nails, a bit cellotape for certain nail art), paper hanker-chief, refreshing papers, aspirin, pepper-spray with pink color in it, three condoms with the taste of fruit, a pair of scrunchies, an opened pregnancy-test (one used, gosh), hand-creme, deo-spray and a hair barette.
A cheap Commlink on the level of last years Novatech, but of cause it’s from Cross “Onyx” series, in a surprising color. Guess what? It’s full with spyware and a trojan, and I think it’s bugged by the hacker to control what I’m doing.
Forgot to mention my job, did I? The guy in a coma is some rich upper class twit with a lots of cash. He and his family having something like a corporation, stock-broker, holding or something, where they own 70% of the stock or something. It’s the Rosenbaum Holding, my mark is the COO. It’s all in all about 100 million Nuyen. Which is not sooo much, kidding, but it would be nice to have ten percent of that. In my dreams. They will just snuff me before that.
Searching the flat I found out that this Lisa Edelstein girl was real. And that they made a few quick changes to her background, so it does fit mine. She was good in cooking and science, was bad in math and language. I’m just the other way round. Okay, I say my cooking is great, but Fynn always puts a knife in my back when it comes to this issue about who should make dinner, Neil or me. My cooking is fine! There’s everything in it you need. Every cal and vits and fucking grease and stuff. And I make great meals, like Glowcity Meltdown, The Mining Desaster, Crash in the Swamp (including Tofu made plane rear sticking out of it) and Firework Facility Burning, one of my favorites and finally the “600k Scoville Throatcut” one of my masterpieces – and as every real artist I’m not appreciated during lifetime. I’m really good on that soy-synth! And I’m good at frying stuff in the pan. I have grilled rats on a stick when I was younger!
Whatever. Fynn backstabs me on that and pulls faces. Hey! Basically pepper-spray is a spice, isn’t it? You have to use the things by their potential, not by their intention. That’s my motto.
Yeah. I’m coming back to the point. Thank you.
This Lisa Edelstein, I assume, was snuffed. And I’m working with people who snuff people for less reason than 10% of the profit share. And this is leaving a bad feeling in my stomach. Of course I’m not sure about this Lisa, but… Well…
On the road to the apartment of Georg Rosenbaum, that guy in a coma, I made the taxi stop on a super-market and added some stuff. I originally planned to nick it, but the shop had a snoop who spied on me. I guess he was suspicious because I visited too many rows with just this hundred dollar champagne-bottle in my basket. My story for this is that I found out that I’m pregnant and I planned to tell him today. Officially Lisa doesn’t know about the accident.
So I just nicked a pocket-utility-knife, the only thing the hacker doesn’t know about. But how shall I improvise without that? Officially I was buying a paper notepad. Lisa was studying languages and arts on the collage, but dropped out to work at this Diner. So this is my excuse for this. Ever seen an artist without something to draw? Pencil, a pen-writer, a filler, protective hand-creme for heavy work (remember, I’m working in a diner and Lisa seems to be quite a clothes horse – but it will cover my fingerprints), chewing gum, tea, sweets.
No sir. No weapons. No armor. Just nothing. My employers don’t know anything about my abilities. For them I’m just a little girl-hacker who does some fixer-stuff in Seattle. I don’t think it will help me if they really want to snuff me, but I will hopefully be able to buy some time. And I’ll try to smuggle some written notes out to a post office, so Neil knows where to look for me if this thing goes sideways. I have no other way of contacting him right now. And I’m alone here in Boston. Fucking alone.
With people who snuffed Lisa Edelstein and who go after a hundred millions. Now I’m in the taxi up to that apartment of his. Have seen photos, found out where it is, because it had a GPS location inside.
Cross fingers, okay? Everything will be shiny. And I will get rid off my cash problems I have run into. And I have to make me a list of things I can do with the stuff I have. Did you see my slingshot already? I failed to buy myself a lighter and some duct tape. But while duct tape is something that might raise suspicion I will try to get some band-aid.
Leave a comment if you have ideas what to do with the stuff she has.
What can you do to help her?
Table of things she has
|Clothing||with no pockets but in her jacket, a bolero, corsage (white with frills), leggins of nylon or stretchy cloth, transparent plastic rain overcoat, tennis shoes|
|Big Pink Handbag||with lots of stuff|
|Lots of cheap makeup||different colors of powders, lipsticks, false eyelashes, kajal, powder puff, lots of glitter, hair spray, pocket mirror, hair brush, etc.|
|Nail-Set||with paint-remover, different nail-paint, minute-glue, false nails, cellotape, small paint brushes and sticks for nail-art, scissors, nail file and stuff|
|Soaps||Conditioner, shampoo, parfumed soap (honey and jasmin)|
|Paper hanker-chief||a packet of that|
|Refreshing papers||ten of them, for removing and repairing make-up|
|Aspirin||against head-ache and together with alcohol a perfect speedball|
|Pepper-spray||with pink color ink in it|
|Condoms||three of them, with the taste of fruit (strawberry)|
|scrunchies||a pair of it|
|pregnancy-test||opened (one used, gosh positive)|
|hand-creme||glycerin based (like Atrix or Nivea) Eucerit based and other|
|deo-spray||of cause ozone friendly|
|hair barrette||and a couple of hair clips, a pin at the barrette to fasten it|
|additional||nick failed mostly, so the Hacker knows|
|Pocket Utility Knife||with about 20 tools (nicked)|
|Pencils||Pencil, Filler, Ballpen, eraser gum|
|Notepad||with around 30 Pages of white clean paper A5|
|Bottle of champagne||for 100 Nuyen, with plastic cork, and all such a bottle should have to keep the tingling stuff in|
|protection handcreme||for heavy duty work, creates a protective silicon film over the skin|
|tea||Chinese green gun powder in a vacuum bag|
|sweets||A bag of heavy sugar bonbon|
|chewing gum||big bubbling stuff, pink, in the typical stripe-package|
|Commlink||Cross “Onyx” series from last year, very stylish and hip, but substandard technology (2) with some standard programs and spyware, adware and a trojan for free|
|What she forgot to buy|
|What she considers useful but she has not|
|Secure communication||while her marks and the Hacker is observing, she needs something to give a rescue team a chance to start looking for her if the thing goes sideways. She hopes to get out a letter but has no stamps and no chance to buy them without noticing the Hacker, to nick them failed|
|Slingshot||she is missing the grip part and ammo|
|Armor||no idea how|
|Firearms||if it goes sideways the guy who wants to kill her will bring some. Then the only problem is to get away from the ugly end of it alive and everything is shiny|
|Commlink||Forget it. The spy-fon in her bag will find out if she nicks one on the sidewalk. It’s too risky without even any sensible software at hand. Her fon will track where she is what she talks and how she moves (all normal sensors a smartfon would have can be considered as bugged, including scanner)|
|Medkit||sadly not fitting into her character. She is nervous about this.|
|anything!||Really. Like decent clothing|