Pueblo Corporate Council Sector - Johnny's Place, 2 PM

Not having had the strength to make it all the way to the bedroom Johnny is lying on his couch recovering from last night's debauchery. A sudden screeching pierces his ears; he'd been unable to mute his commlink last night in his inebriated state. Wondering who could be calling him at this hour (didn't they know it was 2 in the afternoon and he had a hangover?!) Johnny manages to answer the commlink without breaking it. The familiar face of Marcus appears on the commlink's screen.

"Johnny!"

It appears distance really does make the heart grow fonder, though the dwarf's enthusiasm fades when he see's Johnny's miserable expression.

"You look like hell," he quips. "What happe-" he starts to ask before thinking better of it, "Nevermind don't answer that."

"Look I know the transition hasn't been easy for you but I found ya some work. There's a Johnson looking for new faces in town. He's holding a meeting at a nightclub called Denim, 4:30 sharp. I've taken the liberty of transferring a map to your commlink. It's in the Pueblo Sector so even you shouldn't have too much trouble finding it," he concludes with a smile.

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Pueblo Corporate Council Sector - Fade's Place, 2 PM

The rhythmic thump of fists hitting a punching bag fills the air as Maeda practices. She's still getting used to the thin mountain air and feeling slightly out of breath. A slight sheen of sweat has begun to cover her when Maeda feels the mental tingling of a commlink call. The call is from her fixer, Kazakami Johnny, so the assassin ends her routine early with a vicious kick that threatens to remove the bag from its mounting. An AR window pops up revealing Johnny's visage.

"Hello Fade. There's a Johnson looking for fresh blood in Denver. The meet's scheduled for 4:30 PM at Denim, a club in the PCC sector. Any questions?"

The half-Asian seems all business and awaits Fade's response with a stoic expression.

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United Canadian and American States Sector - Frost's Place, 2 PM

A spectacular vista of clear skies and snow-capped peaks stretches before Frost. He can see his own breath as he slowly trudges up the side of a mountain. With considerable effort Frost reaches the summit to reveal an ancient, crumbling temple of Buddhist design. Flickering candlelight from within beckons him onward. Frost enters the temple's sanctum to be greeted by a rack of fragile scrolls. This is what he had made the arduous journey for. As he moves toward the first scroll with hand outstretched the familiar sensation of a commlink call stops him in midstride. The call is from Red Tag and his bank account says he can't afford to blow the fixer off. Frost sighs, oh well, he'd gotten here once, he could do so again. The world goes black for an instant and he opens his eyes to the much less spectacular scene of a low-rent apartment. He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs of VR from his mind and answers the call.

"Hoi, what's up chummer?" Red Tag asks with a smile, though it's clearly more of a greeting than a question.

"Listen, there's a Johnson trying to get a run together with some shiny new faces. The meet n' greet's at some Amerind club called Denim in the Pueblo Sector. Ya got 2 and half hours to grab your kit and get the hell over there. Any questions omae?"

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United Canadian and American States Sector - Jackson's Place, 2:05 PM

With a sigh Jackson heaves himself unto the sofa and cracks a beer. He'd been out for hours working the local runner hot spots with no success. Fortunately it would be awhile before rent was due but his finances weren't looking so hot right now. The chime of a commlink call intrudes on his thoughts, grabbing the 'link Jackson sets down his beer. It's from Red Tag, Jackson had called him earlier and he was finally calling back. Hoping for good news Jackson answers and Red Tag's face appears on his image link.

"Jackson, my man, you're in luck. There's a Johnson looking for fresh faces in the Denver underground. He's puttin' a team together for a run today. 4:30 at Denim, some Amerind club in the Pueblo Sector. Ya interested omae?"

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Pueblo Corporate Council Sector - Jin's Place, 2 PM

A wailing guitar and some killer lyrics marked Jin as being home. The staccato thumps on the wall meant his neighbor was home as well and that Jin was, as usual, being too loud. Also as usual, Jin ignored them. However, a different song reached his ears during a rest, the ringtone of his commlink. Jin hates to stop in the middle of a song but he could use a job and it's unlikely this is just a social call. He simply hasn't been in Denver long enough to have many friends. Granting his neighbor temporary relief Jin stops and answers the call. The familiar face of Hideo Kumigawa, the man who was quickly becoming Jin's new best friend, shows up on his screen.

"Hey Jin, for a minute there I didn't think you were gonna answer. Are you ever not practicing?" he asks rhetorically.

"Anyways, it looks like I found some work for you...and not the musical variety. The Johnson wants new faces for a run today and you're the very definition of a new face. The meet's at Denim, some club in the Pueblo Sector, at 4:30. I don't know much else but ask away if you have any questions."

"Hoi, what's up chummer?" Red Tag asks with a smile, though it's clearly more of a greeting than a question.

"Listen, there's a Johnson trying to get a run together with some shiny new faces. The meet n' greet's at some Amerind club called Denim in the Pueblo Sector. Ya got 2 and half hours to grab your kit and get the hell over there. Any questions omae?"

Frost gets up and starts gathering his gear as he talks. While he does he mentally triggers a matrix search on the Club Denim
<<[Moto] Data search: Club Denim Pueblo sector Denver >>

"Did he give an idea of what he wants? Has he ever worked with you before?"

UCAS Sector - Frost's Place

Red Tag shakes his head, "No I've never worked with the guy before. All he would say is that it's courier work. Sorry chummer, I don't know much else, but you should probably be ready to run when you get there."

An AR window pops open in the corner of your vision. You've connected to Denim's node, which is sculpted to resemble a normal building. Probably what the club looks like in real life. From the node you are able to determine the club is located at 10151 W. 26th Ave, the drink specials, and that a Tribal Rock band is booked for tonight.

((You may continue searching if you wish.))

Frost starts cleaning his weapons and prepping his gear. His hands break down the weapons almost on their own while his mind continues with other important items.

"Thanks Red Tag, I'll check in with you when it's over and give ya your cut chummer."

He cuts the comm connection and finishes his work in almost a zen like manner. Weapons cleaned, gear checked and stored. He has a quick sanisteam to clean off the grime and make himself presentable. He checks his map softs and familiarizes himself with the area around the club making notes of escape routes on his gps. He also charts several routes to the club finding the quickest he heads down to his bike and starts checking it over. About an hour before the meet he gears up and heads towards the club. He feels his connection with the bike as the sim rig takes control. He feels the harsh road under his wheels as he heads down the street towards his next potential job.

UCAS Sector

Frost's mapsoft calculates two routes. He can take the interstate and cross directly into the Pueblo Sector or he can take city streets and cross through the CAS Sector. The interstate is slightly faster and has only one border crossing, but that border will have heavy security. The city streets will require two border crossings but should have lighter security.

Jackson replies “Red Tag. My personal bearer of good news. Good afternoon, sir. Yes, I am interested. Although, having said that, do you have any details on the Johnson? Are they reputable? I don’t want to know where he went to college at or where she buys her pumps, but rather, I want to know personally, if you got a good feeling about it?”

Jackson was told that Red Tag was a decent guy and he’d never purposely put a runner in harm’s way, but he figured there’s no harm in asking. As he’s talking, a flashback comes to mind; Jackson can hear Frost talking to the squad before they went over the wall that day, Frost shouting over the whacking of the chopper on the tarmac.

“Remember! The Corps, The Unit, then God, you got me? When we’re out there, I want a 100% of your attention, and 110% of your effort, you copy?” To which the squad replied in unison “UURRAAH!”

Jackson snaps back “Whatta ya say, Red? Does the Johnson check out?”

"KIAAAAI!" the young assassin exclaims as she punches the bag one final time, before accepting the call. As Johnny appears Fade shows no expressions and simply listens to him telling about the possible future job. As he finishes, she instantly follows up, her voice cold and not betraying how she feels, if she feels anything.

"Can you tell me more about this Denim? Is there a particular dress code? Can you tell me about their security? And send me a map of the area if you can find one. And do you know whether or not Mr. Johnson can be trusted?" She wasn't going to take the front door if they would be scanning her for cyberware. And the map would simply give her a knowledge of the area, so that she could set up a few escape routes, just in case it turned out to be a trap, rather than an actual job.

As she was saying and thinking this, she also was using the matrix to access road maps, so that she could set up the fastest way to Denim and a route away which would perhaps not be the fastest, but which also gave her plenty of opportunity to detect anyone following, so that she could get rid of anyone in pursuit.

Some might call her paranoid, but Fade saw it as perfectly logical, figuring that you never know when people stab you in the back, so best to prepare for contingencies for when it happens.

UCAS Sector - Jackson's Place

Red Tag nods in understanding.

"I scan you chummer but I'm afraid I don't have a lot to go on. I've never worked with the Johnson before but I wouldn't call you if I had bad vibes."

He smiles reassuringly, "However, you can take some solace in the fact that he asked for new faces, not anyone in particular."

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PCC Sector - Fade's Place

If Johnny is surprised by Fade's icy demeanor he doesn't show it.

"It's an Amerind club. You'll have trouble fitting in no matter what you wear. As for the security I don't know, but it's a nightclub not a corporate headquarters."

Johnny does seem surprised, or perhaps amused, when she asks about maps.

"Maps aren't my area of expertise, you're on your own there. The Johnson seems as reliable as any other. This isn't the business for money-back guarantees."

As he's speaking an AR window pops open in Maeda's field of vision. A street map of the Edgewater neighborhood appears with Denim's location marked.

"Hmmmm? Patty you dirty dwarf you... yes do that again...." Johnny says before he comes fully awake. "Hold on a moment! You aren't Patricia! Where is Patricia you miscreant!! I'll..." he begins to rant from the floor of he apartment disheveled and hungover. After deciding he didn't want the details, Marcus simply continued speaking, telling Johnny of the job.

"Oh Marcus! How are you? When did you call?" Johnny continues rambling after coming mostly to his senses and realizing who he was speaking to. He looks at the time on his rather old pocket watch and his voice climbs to a pitch rarely heard, "Why in the bloody blue BLAZES have you called me at such an ungodly hour?" Then his addled brain registers what Marcus had just finished telling him and he continues: "But Marcus, four thirty tomorrow? Don't you think that's a bit short notice? I don't even know the man! And besides, this club, 'Denim,' sounds rather plain, if not downright tacky, don't you agree?"

UCAS Sector - Jackson's Place

Jackson takes a moment to consider this information and decides he needs the work.

“Red, sir, I’m your man. Count me in and that’s 430, @ the Denim, Amerind Sector. Got it. Thanks again. I appreciate it, Red.”

Jackson signs off. He starts to a net search of the club, and then plots an optimal course to that physical location. After the course has been plotted, he calculates the time it will take to get there, allowing himself a good 30 minute window so that he will arrive at 1600.

((OOC: Val, not really familiar with Denver. Are there several checkpoints in which runners will be frisked for weapons enroute to this club? I would like to know, because IF the information is common sense [i.e. most folks know not to try cross borders while rolling heavy b/c they tend to arrested or shot] then that will determine whether or not Jackson will pack a little heat and alot of heat.))

PCC Sector - Johnny's Place

Marcus merely shakes his head with a rueful expression at Johnny's antics.

"Tomorrow? No Johnny I'm afraid it's even shorter notice than that. The meeting is today. I'd have contacted you earlier but this is the first I've heard about it."

The dwarf pauses for a moment to let that sink in.

"And yes, I doubt the club will suit your...distinguishing tastes, but a job's a job."

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UCAS Sector - Jackson's Place

Jackson's search reveals that Denim is indeed an Amerind club and actually quite popular. Many top notch Tribal Rock bands from all around the NAN have performed there. He calculates it will take anywhere from forty minutes to an hour to get to the club, counting border crossings. The interstate will be slightly faster and only require one border crossing. Taking city streets will require two border crossings but those checkpoints should be less secure. Either way will require passing through a scanner. Licensed pistols are generally accepted but trying to cross the border with an assault rifle could prove difficult.

"I see..." is the comment from the assassin to the fixer. "Very well, I will go to this Denim club and meet up with the Johnson." With that said the connection to Johnny is cut off and the assassin quickly cleans up and puts on her expensive looking suit, checks her weaponsa nd fastens them in their appropriate positions, before she heads out to her bike, rhe lightning fast Suzuki Mirage.

With a single mental command the agent in the bike's computer starts up the bike with a loud wroom and then Fade heads off, the direction towards Pueblo and this Denim. It is with a very high pace that the assassin proceeds towards her possibly future employer, waving in and out amongst the cars that she passes on the way.

PCC Sector - 2:45 PM

Fade artfully threads through other vehicles and poor road conditions alike. Her driving elicits a couple of rude gestures but otherwise she reaches the club without incident. The parking lot is mostly deserted at this time of day. Denim is a fairly nondescript building from the outside though a neon sign clearly marks this is the place. Maeda's rapid pace as left her with plenty of time before the meet.

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Interstate 70 Exit 281, Pueblo Corporate Council, Sector Demarcator - 3:50 PM

Frost feels every hum and vibration of the bike through his control rig and handles it like an extension of his own body. Traffic is still relatively light and he is able to make good time. Soon he reaches the exit and approaches the Pueblo Sector border. A bunker that looks like it might be able to withstand a direct hit from anything short of a nuclear bomb marks the border. Traffic splits into multiple lanes funneled through sensor stations and guard booths.

A Native American male in a border patrol uniform, complete with armored jacket and an AK-97, waves Frost to a halt. The patrolman directs Frost to a smaller lane, clearly designed for motorcycles. A sign reads 'To facilitate procedures have SINs ready for scanning'.

Frost pulls up to the designated lane to be stopped by a female officer, also clearly of Native American descent. She holds a commlink ready to scan SINs and licenses.

"State your reasons for entering the sector and declare any restricted goods now," she says in what is obviously a well rehearsed speech.

"Marcus dear, today is simply out of the question," Johnny replies, "I have three dates scheduled for reasonable hours tonight and ..." he drifts off, absentmindedly patting around his clothing and digging out his credstick to check the state of his revelry funds.

"Four thirty you say? I can be there, though fashionably late of course. I assume it pays well?" he continues with a rueful look after seeing the state of his finances.

As he waits he sets the comlink down and begins hurrying around the apartment gathering his running equipment, stripping out of his soiled clothing and digging out a fresh tuxedo. Let's see, rubber chicken? Check. Playing cards? Check. Cane? Check. Top hat? Check. Glasses? Check. That damned paperwork Marcus insisted I carry? Check. Am I missing anything? he pauses, caught in the middle of pulling on his pants, wondering what he was forgetting. "Ah ha!" he exclaims, My pistols. Nearly forgot them again.

Frost stops the bike and dials back the control rig so he can distinguish between his own heartbeat and bikes engine. Frost pulls up a transfer window in AR and transmits his SIN and License information. He hopes the fake SIN and licenses that RedTag set up for him with stand the scrutiny. Here goes nothing.

<<[Moto] Begin SIN & license transfer>>

He pulls up the face shield on his helmet and smiles at the officer.

"I'm just hear for a little music and drinks."

{ooc: Fake SIN and Licenses all rating 4}