Post by darkstar on Apr 20, 2006 13:24:21 GMT -5
Mr. Braxton's smile returns, clasping his hands
together. "Excellent! I think that deserves a toast for sure." He
leans forward, picks up the decanter, and refills everyone's drink
before refilling his own, then lifts his glass in a toasting
manner. "Here's to forging new partnerships, if not new
friendships." He takes a slow sip from his glass, "Is that some
great stuff or what?" Before anyone can respond, the door opens,
and in walks Tortuga. He nods to Mr. Braxton and
sits down on the love seat, looking noticeably more relieved.
Mr. Braxton nods and lifts his class towards Tortuga, "Welcome
back." Setting his glass back down, "Now let us get down to nitty
gritty shall we?"
Monk clears his throat as he stands. "Actually, Mr. Braxton, I think
you should wait a moment before continuing." Looking to the rest of
the group, "The reason I was waiting for my friends' input was to
insure that you would have the team needed to accomplish your goals.
As I see the team has agreed, I am completely confident that all the
needed skills and abilities are on the table."
Returning his gaze to Braxton, "However, I have prior obligations
which require that I recluse myself from the furtherance of this
meeting. I assure you, our professionalism, both as a team and as
individual runners is of the highest degree and as such I will not
be made aware of any aspect of your mission. If, for some reason,
the group feels that they require my assistance in some manner, they
will contact me as a, shall we say, sub-contractor." He
smiles, "That is, of course, assuming that my other obligations
don't prevent me from assisting."
Monk extends his hand and shakes Braxton's. "It has been a pleasure
meeting you. I thank you again for your excellent birthday present
and wish you the best in your current and future endeavors. If you
are planning on being in Seattle for the next several days," pauses
as he smoothly produces a crisp white card, "or if you make your way
here in the future, feel free to contact me at this number. Perhaps
we can dine together and share some conversation. And some excellent
Brandy."
Monk moves to the door, "I suppose," nodding to Ashi, "that our time
on the boat will happen when you all safely return." Smiles toward
Star, "Luck." With that he steps out the door, closing it quietly
behind him as he does so. With an ever so slight smile, Ashi
respectful nods to Monk. Chain watches Monk exit with a puzzled look
as Mr. Braxton places his stogie in his mouth and shoots a puzzled
look at the others as Monk exits the room.
Wandering Star cants her head toward Monk as he speaks, then smiles
warmly at Mr. Braxton as if this change was entirely
expected. "Please continue."
Leaning over to Chain, Tortuga says quietly, but not quietly
enough, "Did Monk need to use the can, too? Maybe we should take a
five minute break, or something."
Chuckling lightly, Chain looks at Tortuga, "Monks business is his
own, best if we mind ours my friend. Please continue Mr. Braxton."
"Yes of course. I hope I didn't offend anyone with my toast," Mr.
Braxton questions sincerely. Without waiting for a response, Mr.
Braxton reaches down and sets his briefcase on the table, places his
thumbs on each end, as a familiar `click' sound follows immediately
as the safety clasps release. He reaches in quickly and pulls out a
datachip from one of the pockets, then closes the case and returns
it between his legs.
In front of him, Mr. Braxton flips open a hidden section of the
table edge, slides in the datachip, then hits a few buttons. Soon
the cabinet next to the door slides open to reveal a Trideo screen.
The first image is a familiar one to everyone; Destiny Crawford.
Destiny is a famous simsense star known throughout the world (about
on scale to Julia Roberts/Demi Moore). "This is your target, Destiny
Crawford from a copy of her latest movie poster. My clients are big
fans of Miss Crawford, however they need her to miss a few
promotional dates in New York. The first one takes place this coming
Sunday morning, the last one on Tuesday night."
Mr. Braxton hits another button, the screen changes to a file
labeled `Itinerary'. "I've taken the liberty of obtaining her
itinerary for tomorrow for you. She does have one scheduled
appearance date on Saturday, but that one doesn't concern my
clients. I'll leave it in your capable hands on when you acquire
lady Crawford, but it must be before her first appearance date on
Sunday."
"Sunday? Damn. There's a John Wayne Marathon on Sunday...Well, I
guess I can record it," then Bang adds with a sheepish grin, "Not
like I haven't already seen them."
Mr. Braxton chuckles at Bangs comment then, hits another button. The
screen changes to a map file named Greenwich. "Once you have
acquired Miss Crawford, take her to the holding area we have
provided. It's located in a low profile area and I have made
arrangements for you to have rear access so you can avoid the front
desk." Mr. Braxton reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a
maglock key card and lays it on the table.
"Once she is in your custody…" He reaches into his case again, and
pulls out a hand full of patches and sets them on the table as
well. "…use these to keep her sedated and nourished. One patch each,
per day. Once the clock strikes midnight on Tuesday, simply leave
Miss Crawford in the room and return to the airport for your return
trip home. It's imperative that Miss Crawford not be harmed or
mistreated while in your custody. She must be treated like royalty.
There are a few more notable files on the datachip that may also be
useful to you." With that Mr. Braxton takes a long draw of his
stogie and says, "Any questions?"
"There are many questions," Star replies in her thick Russian
accent. "First, does Miss Crawford have a doc wagon contract and if
so, what type and who is the provider? Second, what is her
bodyguard situation? How many and what type- for instance- magical
or mundane? Third, is she sponsored or owned by a corporation?
Does she have any allergies? And, of course, these little patches
of yours... we would know what they are before using them."
Leaning forward with a look of concentration on his face, Chain nods
agreement as Star asks each of her questions. Once she finishes he
adds, "I'd also like to know how she travels from location to
location and who supplies the travel service?"
Mr. Braxton latches his briefcase shut, then leans back to consider
the questions. After a quick sip from his brandy glass he
responds. "DocWagon? That's a very astute question m'lady, but I am
afraid I do not know the answer to that. I'm sure there is a
possibility, but very unlikely. As far as her security..." he pauses
in thought "...I would imagine she would have a body guard or two.
Probably no more then a handful at any one time. Miss Crawford is
well liked, and as far as I know, doesn't have any enemies to speak
of, so her security should be rather light comparatively speaking.
I'm sure her guards are trained more for handling unruly fans rather
then professionals such as yourselves."
Mr. Braxton pauses briefly to tap a few ashes from his
cigar, "MegaMedia manages Miss Crawford's affairs, I believe she has
been under contract with them for some time now." He reaches forward
and grabs one of the blue patches, "These are your standard medical
patches. The blue ones..." he shakes it then places it back on the
table, "...will keep her sedated for the stint of her stay with you.
The green ones will provide the necessary vitamins and nutrition to
keep her healthy and alive while she rests. As far as her medical
history...I do not know. But you will have the rest of tonight and
all day tomorrow to research anything I am unable to answer."
Mr. Braxton faces Chain for a moment then starts working the media
controls once more. "Ah yes, transportation." He flips back a few
pages until the itinerary pops up again. "From what I understand she
will be taking a helicopter from the airport to her hotel. The rest
of the time she will be escorted via limos."
Looking blankly across the room, Ashi takes a puff from his cigar,
and turns his attention back
toward Mr. Braxton to say, "Fine accommodations you have provided
us." Followed by a gentle nod of thanks. "From the sound of it, you
are not privy to much information about Ms. Destiny's personal life
or the inner workings of her business. However, is there anything
else that you know about Miss Destiny that is not or may not be
public knowledge?"
"I'm afraid I do not," Mr. Braxton replies, then reaches into his
coat pocket again and retrieves a business card and places it on the
table next to the patches. "Call this number when you are ready to
leave for New York. Give them at least a two-hour lead-time. This
will give them enough time to prep the plane, and notify the pilots.
They will have all intimate details regarding your flight. When the
job is complete call that number again and I will be waiting for you
at the plane with the remainder of your payment before your return
flight home."
Mr. Braxton grabs his suitcase and stands, straightening his suite
as he does. "Now if there are no more further questions..." he takes
a quick peak at his watch, then glances about the group, "...I have
other important business to attend to." Then, as if it had almost
slipped his mind, he reached into his coat pocket and retrieves a
certified credstick...chuckling to himself... "I suppose you will
want this as well," and places it on the business card in front of
him with a big smile.
Tank speaks up, "Would you mind sliding that into the verifier
before you head out. Prefer this relationship maintains it's good
standing." Leaning forward he sets his glass on the table.
Mr. Braxton smiles at the one they call Tank, "Why of course." He
then leans forward to pick up the credstick and places it in the
verification slot. Across the video screen reads '100,000.00Y
certified by Bank of Seattle 2059:09:05:1622:27'. "One hundred
thousand nuyen as we agreed." Mr. Braxton gives a shallow bow to the
group, "Now if you will excuse me, I must be going now. Gino will
care for any unused brandy or cigars after you leave. Farwell and
best of luck." With that, Mr. Braxton leaves the room, shutting the
door behind him.
After Braxton exits the room Tortuga says, "Hey, Tank, did you get a
picture of that guy? We need to check this guy out and it would be
easier to do if we have one." And after a slight pause, "And we
need to take you to a Dia de los Muertos fiesta, esse."
With a bit of a sour look, Tank turns towards Tortuga, "Sorry, but I
failed to plan on us working tonight. I did not bring my camera with
me. It won't happen in the future."
"It would be better if we did not talk here," Star adds. Why do we
not go somewhere more..." she pauses as though searching for the
right word, "...appropriate for making plans." She smiles at
Bang, "Someplace where you can record John Wayne."
"Your prolly right. When are we supposed to leave again," Tortuga
questions the group.
Bang gives a little lopsided smile and says, "Well, the marathon
isn't until Sunday...but I agree, we should head back to the office
and make plans."
Tank's sour look fades as he turns to Wandering Star and mentions
while putting on his gloves, "I must say that you look absolutely
stunning tonight Star". Reaching down to the table, he removes the
data chip and credstick. Placing the chip in his chip jack, he hands
Wandering Star the credstick.
"Domo ariagato," she replies with a slight nod as she acknowledges
Tank's complement and accepts the credstick, placing it securely
into her small evening bag.
Placing his fingers inside Mr. Braxton's used glass, he picks it up
and puts it in a pocket inside his long coat. "While we may not
have a picture, we do have his finger prints. Maybe he isn't as
crafty as Monk. Speaking of Monk, how about we finish out this
celebration and take the birthday boy home." Tank stands up,
straightening out his clothing.
"Yes. That would be good," Star replies. "He seems very upset that
he will not be able to spent time with the stars this evening. We
find ourselves very sympathetic with him."
Chain rises from his seat and heads for the door. He opens the door
and steps through, with the others close behind. Turning to Star,
Tortuga says, "I'll see you guys in about an hour, I gotta go check
something out." He exits the room, walking towards the bar. Hellion
waits for the others to leave, and then follows, grabbing up the
patches before he exits.
together. "Excellent! I think that deserves a toast for sure." He
leans forward, picks up the decanter, and refills everyone's drink
before refilling his own, then lifts his glass in a toasting
manner. "Here's to forging new partnerships, if not new
friendships." He takes a slow sip from his glass, "Is that some
great stuff or what?" Before anyone can respond, the door opens,
and in walks Tortuga. He nods to Mr. Braxton and
sits down on the love seat, looking noticeably more relieved.
Mr. Braxton nods and lifts his class towards Tortuga, "Welcome
back." Setting his glass back down, "Now let us get down to nitty
gritty shall we?"
Monk clears his throat as he stands. "Actually, Mr. Braxton, I think
you should wait a moment before continuing." Looking to the rest of
the group, "The reason I was waiting for my friends' input was to
insure that you would have the team needed to accomplish your goals.
As I see the team has agreed, I am completely confident that all the
needed skills and abilities are on the table."
Returning his gaze to Braxton, "However, I have prior obligations
which require that I recluse myself from the furtherance of this
meeting. I assure you, our professionalism, both as a team and as
individual runners is of the highest degree and as such I will not
be made aware of any aspect of your mission. If, for some reason,
the group feels that they require my assistance in some manner, they
will contact me as a, shall we say, sub-contractor." He
smiles, "That is, of course, assuming that my other obligations
don't prevent me from assisting."
Monk extends his hand and shakes Braxton's. "It has been a pleasure
meeting you. I thank you again for your excellent birthday present
and wish you the best in your current and future endeavors. If you
are planning on being in Seattle for the next several days," pauses
as he smoothly produces a crisp white card, "or if you make your way
here in the future, feel free to contact me at this number. Perhaps
we can dine together and share some conversation. And some excellent
Brandy."
Monk moves to the door, "I suppose," nodding to Ashi, "that our time
on the boat will happen when you all safely return." Smiles toward
Star, "Luck." With that he steps out the door, closing it quietly
behind him as he does so. With an ever so slight smile, Ashi
respectful nods to Monk. Chain watches Monk exit with a puzzled look
as Mr. Braxton places his stogie in his mouth and shoots a puzzled
look at the others as Monk exits the room.
Wandering Star cants her head toward Monk as he speaks, then smiles
warmly at Mr. Braxton as if this change was entirely
expected. "Please continue."
Leaning over to Chain, Tortuga says quietly, but not quietly
enough, "Did Monk need to use the can, too? Maybe we should take a
five minute break, or something."
Chuckling lightly, Chain looks at Tortuga, "Monks business is his
own, best if we mind ours my friend. Please continue Mr. Braxton."
"Yes of course. I hope I didn't offend anyone with my toast," Mr.
Braxton questions sincerely. Without waiting for a response, Mr.
Braxton reaches down and sets his briefcase on the table, places his
thumbs on each end, as a familiar `click' sound follows immediately
as the safety clasps release. He reaches in quickly and pulls out a
datachip from one of the pockets, then closes the case and returns
it between his legs.
In front of him, Mr. Braxton flips open a hidden section of the
table edge, slides in the datachip, then hits a few buttons. Soon
the cabinet next to the door slides open to reveal a Trideo screen.
The first image is a familiar one to everyone; Destiny Crawford.
Destiny is a famous simsense star known throughout the world (about
on scale to Julia Roberts/Demi Moore). "This is your target, Destiny
Crawford from a copy of her latest movie poster. My clients are big
fans of Miss Crawford, however they need her to miss a few
promotional dates in New York. The first one takes place this coming
Sunday morning, the last one on Tuesday night."
Mr. Braxton hits another button, the screen changes to a file
labeled `Itinerary'. "I've taken the liberty of obtaining her
itinerary for tomorrow for you. She does have one scheduled
appearance date on Saturday, but that one doesn't concern my
clients. I'll leave it in your capable hands on when you acquire
lady Crawford, but it must be before her first appearance date on
Sunday."
"Sunday? Damn. There's a John Wayne Marathon on Sunday...Well, I
guess I can record it," then Bang adds with a sheepish grin, "Not
like I haven't already seen them."
Mr. Braxton chuckles at Bangs comment then, hits another button. The
screen changes to a map file named Greenwich. "Once you have
acquired Miss Crawford, take her to the holding area we have
provided. It's located in a low profile area and I have made
arrangements for you to have rear access so you can avoid the front
desk." Mr. Braxton reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a
maglock key card and lays it on the table.
"Once she is in your custody…" He reaches into his case again, and
pulls out a hand full of patches and sets them on the table as
well. "…use these to keep her sedated and nourished. One patch each,
per day. Once the clock strikes midnight on Tuesday, simply leave
Miss Crawford in the room and return to the airport for your return
trip home. It's imperative that Miss Crawford not be harmed or
mistreated while in your custody. She must be treated like royalty.
There are a few more notable files on the datachip that may also be
useful to you." With that Mr. Braxton takes a long draw of his
stogie and says, "Any questions?"
"There are many questions," Star replies in her thick Russian
accent. "First, does Miss Crawford have a doc wagon contract and if
so, what type and who is the provider? Second, what is her
bodyguard situation? How many and what type- for instance- magical
or mundane? Third, is she sponsored or owned by a corporation?
Does she have any allergies? And, of course, these little patches
of yours... we would know what they are before using them."
Leaning forward with a look of concentration on his face, Chain nods
agreement as Star asks each of her questions. Once she finishes he
adds, "I'd also like to know how she travels from location to
location and who supplies the travel service?"
Mr. Braxton latches his briefcase shut, then leans back to consider
the questions. After a quick sip from his brandy glass he
responds. "DocWagon? That's a very astute question m'lady, but I am
afraid I do not know the answer to that. I'm sure there is a
possibility, but very unlikely. As far as her security..." he pauses
in thought "...I would imagine she would have a body guard or two.
Probably no more then a handful at any one time. Miss Crawford is
well liked, and as far as I know, doesn't have any enemies to speak
of, so her security should be rather light comparatively speaking.
I'm sure her guards are trained more for handling unruly fans rather
then professionals such as yourselves."
Mr. Braxton pauses briefly to tap a few ashes from his
cigar, "MegaMedia manages Miss Crawford's affairs, I believe she has
been under contract with them for some time now." He reaches forward
and grabs one of the blue patches, "These are your standard medical
patches. The blue ones..." he shakes it then places it back on the
table, "...will keep her sedated for the stint of her stay with you.
The green ones will provide the necessary vitamins and nutrition to
keep her healthy and alive while she rests. As far as her medical
history...I do not know. But you will have the rest of tonight and
all day tomorrow to research anything I am unable to answer."
Mr. Braxton faces Chain for a moment then starts working the media
controls once more. "Ah yes, transportation." He flips back a few
pages until the itinerary pops up again. "From what I understand she
will be taking a helicopter from the airport to her hotel. The rest
of the time she will be escorted via limos."
Looking blankly across the room, Ashi takes a puff from his cigar,
and turns his attention back
toward Mr. Braxton to say, "Fine accommodations you have provided
us." Followed by a gentle nod of thanks. "From the sound of it, you
are not privy to much information about Ms. Destiny's personal life
or the inner workings of her business. However, is there anything
else that you know about Miss Destiny that is not or may not be
public knowledge?"
"I'm afraid I do not," Mr. Braxton replies, then reaches into his
coat pocket again and retrieves a business card and places it on the
table next to the patches. "Call this number when you are ready to
leave for New York. Give them at least a two-hour lead-time. This
will give them enough time to prep the plane, and notify the pilots.
They will have all intimate details regarding your flight. When the
job is complete call that number again and I will be waiting for you
at the plane with the remainder of your payment before your return
flight home."
Mr. Braxton grabs his suitcase and stands, straightening his suite
as he does. "Now if there are no more further questions..." he takes
a quick peak at his watch, then glances about the group, "...I have
other important business to attend to." Then, as if it had almost
slipped his mind, he reached into his coat pocket and retrieves a
certified credstick...chuckling to himself... "I suppose you will
want this as well," and places it on the business card in front of
him with a big smile.
Tank speaks up, "Would you mind sliding that into the verifier
before you head out. Prefer this relationship maintains it's good
standing." Leaning forward he sets his glass on the table.
Mr. Braxton smiles at the one they call Tank, "Why of course." He
then leans forward to pick up the credstick and places it in the
verification slot. Across the video screen reads '100,000.00Y
certified by Bank of Seattle 2059:09:05:1622:27'. "One hundred
thousand nuyen as we agreed." Mr. Braxton gives a shallow bow to the
group, "Now if you will excuse me, I must be going now. Gino will
care for any unused brandy or cigars after you leave. Farwell and
best of luck." With that, Mr. Braxton leaves the room, shutting the
door behind him.
After Braxton exits the room Tortuga says, "Hey, Tank, did you get a
picture of that guy? We need to check this guy out and it would be
easier to do if we have one." And after a slight pause, "And we
need to take you to a Dia de los Muertos fiesta, esse."
With a bit of a sour look, Tank turns towards Tortuga, "Sorry, but I
failed to plan on us working tonight. I did not bring my camera with
me. It won't happen in the future."
"It would be better if we did not talk here," Star adds. Why do we
not go somewhere more..." she pauses as though searching for the
right word, "...appropriate for making plans." She smiles at
Bang, "Someplace where you can record John Wayne."
"Your prolly right. When are we supposed to leave again," Tortuga
questions the group.
Bang gives a little lopsided smile and says, "Well, the marathon
isn't until Sunday...but I agree, we should head back to the office
and make plans."
Tank's sour look fades as he turns to Wandering Star and mentions
while putting on his gloves, "I must say that you look absolutely
stunning tonight Star". Reaching down to the table, he removes the
data chip and credstick. Placing the chip in his chip jack, he hands
Wandering Star the credstick.
"Domo ariagato," she replies with a slight nod as she acknowledges
Tank's complement and accepts the credstick, placing it securely
into her small evening bag.
Placing his fingers inside Mr. Braxton's used glass, he picks it up
and puts it in a pocket inside his long coat. "While we may not
have a picture, we do have his finger prints. Maybe he isn't as
crafty as Monk. Speaking of Monk, how about we finish out this
celebration and take the birthday boy home." Tank stands up,
straightening out his clothing.
"Yes. That would be good," Star replies. "He seems very upset that
he will not be able to spent time with the stars this evening. We
find ourselves very sympathetic with him."
Chain rises from his seat and heads for the door. He opens the door
and steps through, with the others close behind. Turning to Star,
Tortuga says, "I'll see you guys in about an hour, I gotta go check
something out." He exits the room, walking towards the bar. Hellion
waits for the others to leave, and then follows, grabbing up the
patches before he exits.