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Asbjørn

Trinity Universe: Carbon Shadows

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Jax

The second she's inside she's peeling her dress off, tattooed breasts filling Jax' field of vision as she embraces him again...

Protesting all the way, the blue-haired girl still lets herself be dragged outside and passionately responds to Jax' kiss. At his parting words she responds "In your dreams..."  ::angry and turns her attention towards the back of the car...

After a few minutes of scanning the parking garage he finds the red Shendai convertible parked some way from the exit. There's not much partying going on here, and even if there had been people around the blinking security system indicator on the car's steering wheel would have kept the curious at bay.

After finding the converstable and realizing there wasn't much he could do, he headed back to his own car. Hopefully that couple was long gone.

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You don't always get what you wish for... While Jax was checking out Ms Ferreira's ride, I was looking at my maglevs turning into a f*cking porn set. As if the couple on the trunk weren't enough, the pixie Jax left behind joined them within seconds of him leaving... And now they had a f'cking audience as well, with five guys standing around watching, some already preparing to drop their pants and join in.

I guess there's pros and cons to operating from a night club... ::rolleyes

Jax

When Jax returns from his short recon round, he finds a crowd of guys around his maglev, all shouting and cheering for the show behind the vehicle, and some pushing their way to the center to get in line... Not exactly an ideal place to wait.

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There are a few moments of silence while Romeo joins the two older men and Buck still hasn't left the dance floor. The holo windows showing Ferreira, Bonasera, Jax, Celeste and Buck still hang in the air around the table, flanking the attentive Abbot. The agent - obviously wired for process transparency and visual communication - suddenly turns its weary eyes on Ms Ferreira as she touches her earring with a finger as if answering a phonecall.

A look of concentration momentarily wipes the drunkard's weariness off the Abbott's face, and a series of intelligible data starts streaming across the scientist's window.

"She's transmitting. Communicating through the usual trisatelite system. The call is automated, from Magellan Field Traffic Control. Mirage's encryption has improved, though. She's running software I don't recognize, probably an upgrade of the last system she tested."

Ms Ferreira empties her drink and gets up. Catching her bodyguard's eye on the way, she strides purposefully through the club towards the garage elevator, weaving elegantly between clusters of drunk, drugged and dreaming clubbers. A few meters behind her Bonasera follows in a more direct and forceful manner, pushing his way forward.

"She's received flight data. An incoming sub-orbital flight from the FSA landing at Magellan within half an hour. Flight number and landing gate data were too well encrypted - or maybe not included in the transmission - but it's commercial."

Martelo glances from one to the other of the two men present, then turns his attention on the image of the two Mirage employees as they step out in the garage.

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Shit, they were losing her! Buck tried to look nonchallant as he whispered into his comm.

She's boltin', boss - what's our next plan of attack?

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Jax shakes his head in disgust at himself for letting it get to this point. It was obviously not something that he could quickly break up. He tried to get into the second maglev, hoping not to draw too much attention to himself.

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Mateo listens as Abott relays the information, then takes a drink of whiskey, "DAMN!" He watches Ferreira and her bodyguard leaving the bar as he thinks of their next move.

"Kid, you're going alone. I want you to follow them, don't be seen, and don't lose them. I want to know if they stop anywhere on their way to the airport. Everyone else, meet here, we're gonna wait for them to leave so they don't recognise Romeo here in the garage, then we'll take the other maglev and head straight to the airport. Kid, make sure we've got weapons in our car."

He finishes his drink, stretches, then turns to look at Abbot, then Martelo, "Can you check the 'net, see what flights are coming in from FSA in the next 30 minutes; hopefully there aren't too many?"

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Taking the opportunity, Celeste surreptitiously tries to moves herself in the path of the bodyguard so that she would be making full contact with the bodyguard and could do what she does best. They could still use the intel off anything she might be able to snatch after all.

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Mateo listens as Abott relays the information, then takes a drink of whiskey, "DAMN!" He watches Ferreira and her bodyguard leaving the bar as he thinks of their next move.

"Kid, you're going alone.  I want you to follow them, don't be seen, and don't lose them.  I want to know if they stop anywhere on their way to the airport.  Everyone else, meet here, we're gonna wait for them to leave so they don't recognise Romeo here in the garage, then we'll take the other maglev and head straight to the airport.  Kid, make sure we've got weapons in our car."

Roger that.

Buck stalks back towards the others, cursing softly under his breath.

*Way to go, dumbass! Maybe if you weren't so busy chasing tail, you might have been able to step up to the plate when ol' Romeo struck out.*

Once back at the table, he throws himself into a chair.

I need a shot of Jack - make it two, and a .45 to blow my stupid head off.

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Taking the opportunity, Celeste surreptitiously tries to moves herself in the path of the bodyguard so that she would be making full contact with the bodyguard and could do what she does best. They could still use the intel off anything she might be able to snatch after all.

Gliding effortlessly through the crowd, Celeste easily intercepts the two as they make their way for the exit. Letting Ms Ferreira slip past her she places herself perfectly to turn and ‘accidentally’ bump into the bodyguard, just one of many he brusquely passes on his way. In a fraction of a second her practiced hands have ascertained that the only items Bonasera carries are on the pickpocket stay-the-hell-away list. He’s packing a heavy calibre pistol under his left arm, a smaller one – most likely a laser – at the small of his back, and the shell of a minicomp fastened to his belt. His T-shirt is fiberweaved, by the feel of the fabric, and the jacket also feels tougher than a regular leather jacket.

In the split second they pass each other, Celeste knows she could easily snatch the laser pistol without Bonasera noticing it. She also knows there’s a good chance his minicomp will notice it, if he’s as paranoid and technophile as most ex-military types are… It usually isn’t worth the risk.

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With Bonasera at the wheel, the sleek red sports model maglev lifts off from the garage floor and glides towards the exit, the whisper of the engine drowned by the club music. The vehicle’s headlights combined with Bonasera’s less than considerate driving soon scatters the clubbers and leaves the way wide open. The HUD windshield flashes warnings and collision alerts as the Italian floors the pedal and accelerates down the spiralling garage exit lane, cutting off other cars and shooting out of the garage exit and onto the city streets.

A few seconds behind, Jax follows in the other maglev. The Shendai is highlighted on his own car’s heads-up-display, making it easy to follow despite its high speed. The driver is good, and although most of his fellow traficants are probably swearing at cocky bastards in red convertibles, the young courier never sees Bonasera do anything he would rate as a dangerous maneuver.

17 minutes and no detours later the Shendai pulls into the short term parking garage at Magellan International Spaceport. As the maglev settles in its parking space, Ms Ferreira gets out and heads for the main arrivals area while Bonasera stays in the car. As he passes the entrance, at least seemingly looking for a vacant spot to park, Jax sees her disappear through the entrance.

Why so surprised?

I already told you there was a market for absolutely anything in Lisbon. Of course we had a spaceport. You won’t believe the amount of small hybrid transports shuttling through Magellan every day, a literal army of independent traders running errands for the highest bidder. It was f*cking huge.

I always thought it looked more like an orbital station than anything that belonged on the ground, you know? Like those circular space stations slowly rotating to generate artificial gravity? It was something like a cross between a donut and a giant cogwheel, with a touch of the FSA’s Pentagonic architecture. The main complex loomed in the distance when you approached it from the city, towering like an ancient castle on the far hill, inaccessible and guarded by concentric rings of barbed, high-voltage fences, automated fire zones and continually circling patrols of Bakuhatsu hybrid fighters – the only craft allowed within the spaceport airspace except incoming and outgoing traffic. For everybody else, the only access to Magellan was underground. After about ten clicks through the tunnels, travellers emerged inside the massive sealed area that was the bulk of the spaceport. Personal transports were parked on the inside of the complex, air- and spacecraft docked on the outside.

There wasn’t all that many open commercial transports or regular passenger traffic, so the main gates arrival hall actually was surprisingly small. But there were a multitude of other gates, some private, some corporate, some government, but most operated by the spaceport, charging private operators a hefty fee for each landing and takeoff. And some times for looking the other way or forgetting to report a package or transport to the customs office.

Those last services weren’t widely advertised, of course, but I’m pretty sure both Mendez and Jax were familiar with them. That is, they’d both know about the services being offered, of course, but not exactly who was offering… That’s a trade secret ::cool

Luckily, that wasn’t where Ferreira and her bodyguard were heading.

Having a transport like the one Mirage was waiting for come on a regular commercial flight was a bit out of the ordinary, actually, but not any cause for alarm. They did that kind of thing from time to time, probably because of some less than satisfactory intelligence’s newest cost/benefit analysis. Either that or someone in Mirage believed in hiding in plain sight. F*ck if I know.

Anyway. There was only three suborbitals coming in in the window the Abbot ID’d and only two from the FSA, so it really wasn’t too hard to figure out. By the time Ferreira reached Magellan with Mendez and his crew on her heels, the Abbot had long since sliced the security routines and scanned both cargo manifests for anything matching the dimensions of a coffin. TK421 from Chicago was due to land two minutes ahead of schedule with 348 passengers and – among other things – a corpse, for the attention of Ms Ferreira, K. Everything was above board, nothing at all fishy about the transaction. Maybe not the way I would have done it, but not completely idiotic either. Customs at Magellan didn’t give a flying f*ck what you brought into Lisbon, as long as the declaration matched the contents. The body had in fact been frozen years before, so the amount of health-related red tape was next to nothing as well. All Mirage had to do was send someone to pick it up and sign the necessary papers. And of course make sure they got safely home with the package…

Mendez & Co followed shortly after the kid, only temporarily detained by the crowd around the vehicle. Even Buck managed to keep his dick in his pants… ::rolleyes

While the new crew headed off to Magellan I had the Abbot bring up my own ride and collect the twins for me. For some reason I still suffered from the illusion that I might have time for them that night, even though I knew I’d have to be available to either receive the package or haul someone’s ass out of trouble later. Not to mention I had a house call to make first.

Who?

Heh… A computer programmer. Genuine whiz kid, actually, but the stress of the big league corps was too much for him. Something snapped, and now he’d gone of the grid completely until some of the boys came across him. You know how some people find salvation in a bottle, or even a god? Well, I don’t really wanna think too much about where this kid found his, but wherever it was it was a pretty f*cking scary place. He spent most of his time in virtual, and then mostly in a construct of his own. I was there once, to get a feel for how he worked. That was enough. Huh..?

Yeah. That weird. We have it on file somewhere, so you can check it out for yourself. You don’t have to take my word for it… ::sly

Anyway, street kids called him The Missionary. You’ll see why. The Boss had decided that despite his… eccentricities, he would be a useful asset. And of course he left me to deal with him…

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The Missionary knelt in the vastness of Her great temple, his tiny form humbled by the impossibly majestic gothic architecture of the cavernous space. The pervasive shadows hinted at unnatural angles concealed beyond, & all around he felt, omnipresent, his Lady of Many Legs. The sound & feel of skittering surrounded him, unknowable shapes & movements dancing at the edge of his vision. Of the few who had visited Her temple some had described the presence within as millions of tiny things, others as one huge mass... he knew that She was both those things, & so much more besides...

'I have done as You asked,' his words seemed small to him, even as they echoed around the limitless space, rushing this way & that, & returning to his ears as a chorus of hushed whispers, 'I have accepted the offer of He of the Silver Stone. All is as you foretold it would be.'

The constant skittering noises coupled with echoes of the Missionary's own words to burn feather-light, ice-cold, sacred syllables across his skin & into his mind & soul.

'Yes my Lady, it will be as you say. I am but your humble servant.'

The countless ethereal fingers of Her great presence caressed the lowly form of her Missionary. Eyes wide with fervour he bowed his head,

'Yes my Lady. Thankyou my Lady.'

He so hated to leave her presence, but he knew it was his privillage, not his right, to serve... & he had a job to do...

The Missionary blinked a few times as he removed the virtual reality goggles from his eyes & placed them to one side with ceremonial reverance. The slim wireless datagloves followed suit. For a moment he allowed his gaze to linger on the hi-tech box which allowed him access to Her temple then, with a sigh, stretched out his painfully thin form &, with a fluid motion, flipped from his lotus position on the small room's carpet onto his hands, then into a standing position.

Stripped to the waist the multitude of spiral-patterned scars & tattooes which covered his skin were clearly visble, even those which traced over his shaved-bald head. A small ring was pierced through his left eyebrow, & another through his lower lip, standing out against the ragged goatee beard he sported. Despite the urban primitive tribal markings it was still clear that the young man was of White European descent. Barefooted, it appeared that the only article of clothing he was bothering to wear were a pair of cheap, but clean & new, work trousers.

After stretching the Missionary's posture sagged to its usual slightly hunched over state. He shuffled towards the small room's door, seeming not to notice the now-cold food which had been left on a tray for him & was untouched. Apart from the computer server he treated with such respect, the room was bare - he happily slept curled on the floor, grateful of the warmth compared with the harsh streets outside, but still unsure of whether he deserved such luxuries. Opening the door he headed out to seek one of the Order of the Silver Stone, announcing his presence with a soft voice,

'Someone has need of my Lady's enlightenment?'

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Magellan International Spaceport

The blinking lights of a heavy hybrid freighter circle overhead as Mateo, Buck, Romeo and Celeste arrive at the spaceport a few minutes after Jax. Bonasera and the sports maglev haven't moved, and there's no obvious backup car around.

Jax's vehicle is parked with a good view of the Shendai, and the HUD image of the target pops up on the other maglev's screen as well. Bonasera seems cool, calm and collected, and there's still no sign of the woman.

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"Nice driving, Jax." Romeo remarks into his minicomp.

Keeping his gaze wide, he steps out of the car, trying to keep a low profile and keep an eye out for the girl herself.

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Magellan International Spaceport

The blinking lights of a heavy hybrid freighter circle overhead as Mateo, Buck, Romeo and Celeste arrive at the spaceport a few minutes after Jax. Bonasera and the sports maglev haven't moved, and there's no obvious backup car around.

Jax's vehicle is parked with a good view of the Shendai, and the HUD image of the target pops up on the other maglev's screen as well. Bonasera seems cool, calm and collected, and there's still no sign of the woman.

Jax smiled at them as they approached. He was still on a mild high after that drive. He

"Nice driving, Jax."

Keeping his gaze wide, Romeo steps out of the car, trying to keep a low profile and keep an eye out for the girl herself.

"No problem" he said, still smiling. "What now?" he asked, looking at Mateo.

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As the maglev made its way to the spaceport, Mateo's mind raced, thinking through all of the options, hoping he'd select the best one. Once they arrived, he let out a long sigh, then spoke into his minicomp, "Ok, here's the plan. Jax, I want you to stay on the bodyguard, let us know if he gets on his mincomp, talks to anyone, or does anything other than stay at the car. Romeo, Buck, you guys quietly do a perimeter sweep of the parking lot; I can't believe that they don't have any backup here. Once you're done, meet up with Jax, you're probably gonna have to take out the muscle before we're done. Celeste, you're with me. we're going into the spaceport, gonna see if our mark makes any detours. On the way, I want you to grab us some security badges to make our lives a bit easier. Questions?"

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"Romeo, Buck, you guys quietly do a perimeter sweep of the parking lot; I can't believe that they don't have any backup here."

Romeo breaks off from the rest of the group and gets what he thinks is a sufficient distance from the lot, then starts to move as quietly as he can to locate whatever security exists.

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"Ok, here's the plan.  Jax, I want you to stay on the bodyguard, let us know if he gets on his mincomp, talks to anyone, or does anything other than stay at the car.  Romeo, Buck, you guys quietly do a perimeter sweep of the parking lot; I can't believe that they don't have any backup here.  Once you're done, meet up with Jax, you're probably gonna have to take out the muscle before we're done.  Celeste, you're with me.  we're going into the spaceport, gonna see if our mark makes any detours.  On the way, I want you to grab us some security badges to make our lives a bit easier.  Questions?"

"No questions. I'll watch and be ready on the minicomp." Jax said as he started to try and meld into the crowd.

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Buck & Romeo

The two americans leave the car and head off for a tour of the parking lot. It's just been cleaned, and the janitor unit has left puddles of water here and there on the concrete floor. The stars and landing lights from above are reflected in the foam-slick mirrors, broken at regular intervals by the shadows of the parked vehicles.

There are a few people getting into and out of cars around the parking area, but generally it's quiet. No obvious security sensors - which is completely normal - and no spaceport security personnel around either. Quietly making their way between the cars, the pair easily avoids Bonasera's line of sight looking for any potential backup vehicles.

Near the entrance to the arrival hall the two-man recon team spot a good candidate: A dark blue van with opaque windows. Outside the back of the van two men in their late twenties are having a smoke and quietly talking while now and then glancing in Bonasera's direction.

Mateo & Celeste

With Buck and Romeo gone, the unlikely ex-cop/pickpocket team follows Ms Ferreira's trail inside. The hall is a large, open donut-sector-shaped space, and this time of night there's not much activity. Here and there small groups of people are waiting, but it's easy to spot the target even though she's put on a dark coat over her more exhibisionist clubwear. Celeste trails off in the direction of a security guard, while Mateo closes in on their mark.

She's waiting impatiently outside the goods transport office - which is placed somewhat on its own in a corner of the hall - and Mateo can see her mouth moving in conversation with some unseen person as he watches her.

On the outer wall the main holodisplay announces that all passengers have now left TK421 from Chicago, and some of the groups in the room drift towards the arrivals gate to meet their friends, relatives or whatever kind of people make others come to meet them late at night.

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Positioning himself so that Buck is between him and the blue van, Romeo discreetly and quietly whispers into the minicomp,

"We have a van and two guys here keeping an eye on Bonasera. Over."

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Positioning himself so that Buck is between him and the blue van, Romeo discreetly and quietly whispers into the minicomp,

"We have a van and two guys here keeping an eye on Bonasera. Over."

Mateo stops for a moment, ensures there's no one in earshot, then quietly replies into his mincomp, "Right, you and Buck stay on the van, I'm thinking we may have to take them out if things don't go our way. Jax you've got our bodyguard by yourself. Use your discretion; bottomline, they cannot get the body out of this parking lot. I'll be comms silent from now on."

Finished, he makes his way to the goods transport office, queueing behind his mark. Looking back over his shoulder impatiently, he attempts to listen to the doctor's conversation as he thinks to himself, *hurry up Celeste!*

(OOC: If she goes starts to go into the transport office before Celeste returns, Mateo will make his way past her into the office)

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Mateo

As the human noise at the arrival gate grows louder, Mateo glances over to see Celeste making her way towards him through the crowd. She adjusts her top on her way over, giving the ex-cop a brief glimpse of a security badge clasped to the waistline of her pants. Just one.

The conversation between the scientist and whoever is at the other end is brief and business oriented. As Mateo takes his place in the queue, he overhears the last of her end of the conversation.

"Yes, sir. ... I'll do that. No, I'm on it. ... Don't worry about it, sir. ... Yes, they're here. Straight to you, sir, I know. Thanks for calling! Bye..."

Shutting the connection off with a shrug she adds "Prick..." under her breath as she turns her attention to the office now opening its doors. She rolls her shoulders and straightens up, walking purposefully towards the door...

... just as Celeste passes Mateo behind her, slipping the badge into his hand and mumbling a muffled "Sorry..." as she bumps into him.

Romeo & Buck

One of the men at the back of the van opens the rear door while the other turns and scans the immediate area. Romeo spots a vague glint of gunmetal as both of them put something under their jackets. The one leaning into the car speaks to someone inside, nods, then slams the door shut. Throwing their cigarette stubs over the edge of the parking area to fall like miniature fireworks over the lower levels they start walking towards the entrance of the arrival hall.

Jax

Bonasera seems occupied with something on his dashboard display, and makes no sign of being about to leave the car.

[Edited for clarity.]

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Somewhat new to this whole sort of operation, Buck gives Romeo a look, just barely raising his eyebrows as his eyes flicker towards the van ::huh

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Somewhat new to this whole sort of operation, Buck gives Romeo a look, just barely raising his eyebrows as his eyes flicker towards the van ::huh

Romeo just shrugs and starts edging through the cover of other vehicles, following the two men as quickly as possible without calling attention to himself.

He also unzips the jacket pocket holding his own gun.

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Romeo & Buck

The bright searchlight of a patrol hybrid momentarily cuts through the polarized glass of the dome far overhead, throwing the parking lot into a stark few seconds of bright light and dark shadows. The two men head toward the arrival hall at a nonchalant pace, checking their surroundings at regular intervals. On one occasion - just as the entrance door slides open - the first guy turns and does a full scan of the parking lot behind him just as Romeo passes between two cars on a course parallell to their own, Buck following behind him. For a second the hairs on Romeo's neck stand up as his eyes almost meet those of the competition and potential violence hangs in the air between them, but then the other man turns and heads inside.

After a brief stop at an autocafe, the two stroll across the hall in the direction of the goods transport office.

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Mateo:

Mateo grabs the badge from Celeste, quickly glancing down at the name and making sure that he's at least passable for the picture. Confident that the badge will work, he steps in front of the scientist to head into Goods Transport Office, flashing the security badge at her annoyance, while making a point to not to turn in her direction or make eye contact, "Sorry ma'am, I'll only be a second," then shuts the door behind him as he walks in.

As he walks purposefully to the desk, he clips the badge on his jacket and gives the attendant a "God, can this day get any worse" look. "Hey, you're not gonna believe this one. Just gotta call from the cops, on one of the inbounds. Apparently someone's shipping a dead body, cops think maybe whoever is bringin it in might've put some biowarfare shit in it, don't want it gettin out and killin half the city. Anyway, they don't want it leavin here until they get some guys in to check it out. They want me down there to guard the thing until they get there. Oh, and they might wanna chat with the chick that's supposed to pick it up, a Ms. Ferreira; but don't let her know what's going on. Just tell her the paperworks been lost, or the loading equipment got broke, or something. K?"

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Mateo

Confident that the badge will work, he steps in front of the scientist to head into Goods Transport Office, flashing the security badge at her annoyance, while making a point to not to turn in her direction or make eye contact, "Sorry ma'am, I'll only be a second," then shuts the door behind him as he walks in.

Stopping mid-step after almost walking into Mateo's outstretched arm, the scientist casts him an annoyed glance, but checks her impulse to challenge him. Although there is no way the ex-cop can make sure the automatic doors actually stay shut, she seems content to play it nice and wait. For now.

Inside - behind a counter covered in bright and colourful traditional portuguese mosaics - a young woman looks up at Mateo with a tired expression. She's obviously at the end of her shift, and she doesn't exactly look thrilled at the prospect of having a security guard come break her routine.

As he walks purposefully to the desk, he clips the badge on his jacket and gives the attendant a "God, can this day get any worse" look.  "Hey, you're not gonna believe this one.  Just gotta call from the cops, on one of the inbounds.  Apparently someone's shipping a dead body, cops think maybe whoever is bringin it in might've put some biowarfare shit in it, don't want it gettin out and killin half the city."

The attendant nods absently, glancing at the flatscreen on the counter as Mateo speaks.

"Yeah, one dead bod... Biowarfare?!?" ::blink

"Anyway, they don't want it leavin here until they get some guys in to check it out.  They want me down there to guard the thing until they get there.  Oh, and they might wanna chat with the chick that's supposed to pick it up, a Ms. Ferreira; but don't let her know what's going on.  Just tell her the paperworks been lost, or the loading equipment got broke, or something.  K?"

"Er... I don't know if I can do that, sir... I mean, I'm not good at lying, and..."

The young woman's voice trembles slightly, obviously nervous at being the one to keep smugglers of bioweapons from their cargo.

"How far away are the cops? Maybe I could just stay closed for a few more minutes?" she hopefully adds.

Outside, the alleged smuggler paces back and forth a little, now and then glancing back across the hall.

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Romeo simply continues to stay on the two men to the best of his ability, trying to guide Buck away from any obvious mistakes (since he seems a bit newer at this).

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Mateo

"Er... I don't know if I can do that, sir... I mean, I'm not good at lying, and..."

The young woman's voice trembles slightly, obviously nervous at being the one to keep smugglers of bioweapons from their cargo.

"How far away are the cops? Maybe I could just stay closed for a few more minutes?" she hopefully adds.

Mateo smiles inwardly as his ploy seems to work, "hmm, actually, yes, I think that might work out best. I'll have the lead detective call you and let you know the situation; his name is Marco Nunez. Now I'm gonna head down to the loading docks and make sure everything is going ok and wait for the police."

Assuming there are no more issues, Mateo leaves and starts heading for the loading dock as he turns his minicomp back on and calls Jax, "Jax, I need to know the license plate of the car you're in and make and model. And get in and start heading to the loading dock."

Once he gets the information from Jax, he calls his old partner Marco, "Hey, Marco, I need a favor. I need you to call the Goods Transport Office at Magellan Spaceport and tell the woman that answers that you have a team coming to pick up the biohazard. Look, it's not important what it is, she'll know what you're talking about. Tell them they'll be in an unmarked car <insert car description and license plate info> and in plainclothes. Make sure she knows to get them clearance into the loading dock. Look, don't worry, it's only a phone call, and I'll make it worth your while."

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Mateo

Mateo smiles inwardly as his ploy seems to work, "hmm, actually, yes, I think that might work out best. I'll have the lead detective call you and let you know the situation; his name is Marco Nunez. Now I'm gonna head down to the loading docks and make sure everything is going ok and wait for the police."

The attendant nods and hits a button under the counter. The glass wall and door goes a shade darker as the electric current locks the door shut and turns the whole wall into a one way mirror. The only other exit is the unlocked door behind the counter.

Leaving through the back door, Mateo makes a few wrong turns before he finally finds a map of this part of the complex. Now and then other spaceport employees walk by, but on the whole it's very quiet.

Once he gets the information from Jax, he calls his old partner Marco, "Hey, Marco, I need a favor. I need you to call the Goods Transport Office at Magellan Spaceport and tell the woman that answers that you have a team coming to pick up the biohazard. Look, it's not important what it is, she'll know what you're talking about. Tell them they'll be in an unmarked car <insert car description and license plate info> and in plainclothes. Make sure she knows to get them clearance into the loading dock. Look, don't worry, it's only a phone call, and I'll make it worth your while."

The sound of laughter and wartime classics are in the background as the deep voice of Mateo's old partner answers. He listens in silence while the ex-cop explains, then seems to get up and move away from the crowd.

"I don't want to know what you're dealing with, man, but you gotta tell me one thing before I do anything like that for you. Is this a cover, or are you smuggling biohazardous material? Cause if you are I don't think you can afford this favor..." ::sly

Buck & Romeo

Sauntering through the arrivals hall like any other random traveller, the two-man surveillance team follow their marks at a distance. The two men don't seem to be in a hurry, but head over to the other end of the hall. As the crowd parts a little both Romeo and Buck see where they're headed; an obviously impatient and irritated Ms Ferreira paces in front of the goods transport office, looking their way! ::ohmy

Both americans react quickly and step sideways into the cover of a support pillar to avoid being seen, but when Buck chances a peek around the pillar he sees the scientist walking purposefully his way. ::angry

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Meanwhile, three other new additions were doing another kind of job for me. Ok, so maybe it wasn't all that different in principle, but at least there weren't any dead bodies involved. Wasn't supposed to be, anyway...

I'd met them earlier that day on Tubarão, my own little haven of luxury. 58' of freedom and adventure, a sleek predator of a luxury yacht, she was my own pride and joy, and I often spent the nights in the cabin there. Beat the hell out of most hotels, I can tell you... ::sly

Anyway, the deal was the same. Same interviews, same tests, same kind of people. Not what you'd call model citizens in any way. Tubarão was lying at the pier, it was a beautiful summer day and the midday sun left little shadow to hide in. Not that it mattered. The private security at that particular piece of coastline was pretty damn impressive, and there was no way in hell any cops would be able to listen in on what was going on there, even if they were crazy enough to be working. No f*ckin weather to be working in anyway, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. No rest for the wicked, and all that.

I was sitting on deck having a beer or two and going over their files while I waited for the crew to show. And of course enjoying the view of the nearby beach... ::cool

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Buck hisses through his teeth.

We gotta big ol' shitstorm headin' our way, bro - pissed-off doctor lady at twelve o' clock.

Lamely, the erstwhile surgeon leans against the pillar feigning boredom, unless Romeo can come up with a better plan in the next fifteen seconds.

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Meanwhile, three other new additions were doing another kind of job for me. Ok, so maybe it wasn't all that different in principle, but at least there weren't any dead bodies involved. Wasn't supposed to be, anyway...

I'd met them earlier that day on Tubarão, my own little haven of luxury. 58' of freedom and adventure, a sleek predator of a luxury yacht, she was my own pride and joy, and I often spent the nights in the cabin there. Beat the hell out of most hotels, I can tell you... ::sly

Anyway, the deal was the same. Same interviews, same tests, same kind of people. Not what you'd call model citizens in any way. Tubarão was lying at the pier, it was a beautiful summer day and the midday sun left little shadow to hide in. Not that it mattered. The private security at that particular piece of coastline was pretty damn impressive, and there was no way in hell any cops would be able to listen in on what was going on there, even if they were crazy enough to be working. No f*ckin weather to be working in anyway, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. No rest for the wicked, and all that.

I was sitting on deck having a beer or two and going over their files while I waited for the crew to show. And of course enjoying the view of the nearby beach... ::cool

As Martelo sat on the deck of his yacht, a young man wearing the uniform of the harbor patrol. "Good afternoon, sir," he says as he checks over the ropes securing Tubarão to the pier. "How's the beer?" He climbs up the ladder nimbly enough. "Just checking to see that everything is going well in this end of the harbor." Even as he talks, he pulls out a small piece of paper with a picture of a hammer on it, and motions it covertly to Martelo.

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We gotta big ol' shitstorm headin' our way, bro - pissed-off doctor lady at twelve o' clock.

"Dammit.." Romeo sighs as he leans against the column with Buck. "Remind me what we were supposed to be doing here again?"

Using the few precious seconds before the scientist arrives, Romeo runs his hands through his carefully gelled hair to destroy his pompadour, then shakes his shirt to uncenter it from his chest, undoing a second button at the top of it. Finally, he crushes both fists into his eye sockets, making them appear unfocused and slightly bloodshot for a few moments. He grabs Buck's shirt and pulls him close to say something to him in a low voice.

"Try to act somewhat sober, and be polite and apologetic and sh!t."

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Watching as the harbor patrolman boarded the yacht he was headed for, the man who now called himself Ransam pretended to be distracted by the bounty of near-nude female flesh on the beach, even going so far as to tilt his sunglasses down and whistle appreciatively. Of course, he was only partly pretending. "Nothin' wrong with a piece a' tail, son", he told himself, "but work first."

As he slid the sunglasses back to their proper perch, he turned and kept walking towards the yacht, eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. In his case, that usually meant the law...but it wasn't always the boys in blue. Plenty others gave him headaches too. Mooks he'd beat the tar out of at one point or another, who came looking for revenge. Jealous boyfriends and husbands. Sometimes it'd just be some kid or other muscle with something to prove. Sometimes former employers, trying to show who's boss. They all learned the hard way.

But here he was, settin' up for another job. Hired muscle or a hitter was his guess, but you never knew. Time to see who he was dealing with. Hopefully a pro. God, but he hated amateurs.

With a swagger he didn't even know was there, he came on board like he owned the place.

"Nice boat."

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Praia da Coceicao harbor, Bolivar

As Martelo sat on the deck of his yacht, a young man wearing the uniform of the harbor patrol. "Good afternoon, sir," he says as he checks over the ropes securing Tubarão to the pier. "How's the beer?" He climbs up the ladder nimbly enough. "Just checking to see that everything is going well in this end of the harbor." Even as he talks, he pulls out a small piece of paper with a picture of a hammer on it, and motions it covertly to Martelo.

Bolivar DiGriz was the first to show. He was still just a kid, but already a pretty good thief all things considered. A bit of a showoff, though. Of course, he couldn't just show up like he was invited. Anyway, that kinda summed him up; talented but undisciplined. I decided to collect the bet he won me by showing up like that after the meeting...

I have to hand it to him, though. The amount of work he put into trying to breach the security in the short time he had was impressive. It wasn't enough, of course, but not bad. He'd got the uniform, and he even looked quite a bit like the guard he was impersonating. But faking ID wasn't any quicker or easier then than it is now, and f*cking expensive to boot. He didn't make it through the gates without giving his name, but I guess he figured he'd try if he could fool me once he was inside...

As Bolivar comes up to the yacht, the tall, broad shouldered man watches him from the deck. His shades hide his eyes, but the young disguise artist can feel his gaze following his every move. The Hammer is barechested, showing a heavily muscled and scarred torso, a tattoo of flickering flames licking up the right side of his chest and out his right arm. He pulls his sunglasses off and raises an eyebrow at Bolivar as he climbs aboard.

"You did pretty good up until right there. Last patrol guy who came aboard without my permission got himself a broken nose and a dive for the trouble."

Pushing himself out of the deck chair, the ex-con leaves the glasses on the table next to him and stands to look down on the new employee.

"So, if the idea was to be inconspicuous... Why shouldn't I toss you in the drink?" ::sly

Ransam

F*ck knows what he would have answered. To be honest I'm not really sure if he thought I was bluffing or not. Anyway, he didn't get the chance to call it before Ransam showed up. Again, probably not his real name, but who cares. He was handy with a gun, had a few military missions under his belt, and had been getting by in Lisbon as a prizefighter and freelance muscle long enough to speak the language. Didn't shave his american accent off, though. Then again, my english probably isn't flawless either.

With a swagger he didn't even know was there, he came on board like he owned the place.

"Nice boat."

With a glance to the harbor patrol man, the big portuguese turns to Ransam and offers his calloused hand to shake. His grip is brief but strong, and the dark eyes are hard to read even as he grins in response.

"She is, isn't she? Only woman I keep coming back to... Welcome aboard." ::biggrin

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"Dammit.." Romeo sighs as he leans against the column with Buck. "Remind me what we were supposed to be doing here again?"

Buck rolls his eyes and whispers harshly.

Goddamn it, I thought you knew - I'm high as a kite, I can't be trusted to remember shit!

Using the few precious seconds before the scientist arrives, Romeo runs his hands through his carefully gelled hair to destroy his pompadour, then shakes his shirt to uncenter it from his chest, undoing a second button at the top of it. Finally, he crushes both fists into his eye sockets, making them appear unfocused and slightly bloodshot for a few moments. He grabs Buck's shirt and pulls him close to say something to him in a low voice.

"Try to act somewhat sober, and be polite and apologetic and sh!t."

The slick Southerner does the opposite of Romeo's routine, slicking back his hair, making sure his shirt is tucked in, and trying on his most sincere smile.

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"You did pretty good up until right there. Last patrol guy who came aboard without my permission got himself a broken nose and a dive for the trouble."

Pushing himself out of the deck chair, the ex-con leaves the glasses on the table next to him and stands to look down on the new employee.

"So, if the idea was to be inconspicuous... Why shouldn't I toss you in the drink?"

Bolivar blinks in surprise, then crumples up the note. "Darn. I knew I should have put a bit more time into studying the boat." He looks over as Ransam boards, and takes in the look of an obviously experienced fighter. "Wow. Looks like I'm in good company."

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With a glance to the harbor patrol man, the big portuguese turns to Ransam and offers his calloused hand to shake. His grip is brief but strong, and the dark eyes are hard to read even as he grins in response.

"She is, isn't she? Only woman I keep coming back to... Welcome aboard." ::biggrin

Ransam barks a laugh. "Ha! Here's to the ones that can't talk back. May they always be our solace." He looks around. "Guess we'll need something to finish that toast proper...be bad luck otherwise! Got anything appropriate?" He grins back at Martelo, then lets his gaze swing to Bolivar as the younger man speaks.

"Wow. Looks like I'm in good company."

"Damn straight. Course, I could be here to kill ya, so try not to assume too much, kid."

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