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//Translation module [Pol/Eng] running
//Sender: Marek PolskaCybertech [09234481AZ@StealthMail.biz]//Recipient[s]: Flash@UnluckyIon.biz
//Subject: Urgent – Crew Required
//Attachments: creep.avifUnlucky, I’m in deep fucking shit and need a team fast. Big eddies on offer.
Found an Interpol deep cover spook crawling up our back end – someone planted an ID right into the mainframe, shot straight through our ICE like a fucking bullet. Spook lifted the firmware for our prototype cybercontrollers. If they upload it, the pigs will have a backdoor into every Polska Cybertech device in Europe. Corporate will fucking smoke me if they find out. Push me under a fucking train or something.
I’ve pulled a likeness from our security cameras. They use a public terminal in the Chancery Lane underground station as a dead drop. I’ve sent the creep out to the Bristol-Kingswood office to pick something up, reckon that’s bought you 48hrs before they can make the drop.
They’ll be back in the Smoke via the Paddington maglev at 21:05 03.03, then they’ll probably head straight to the drop. Intercept them, rip the chip out of their head and get it back to me.
Wired you 2500 eddies, there’s another 2500 when I have that chip back.
//Imported Content// Source:SinclairX/Messages/Sent/991328
//Sender: Ion@UnluckyIon.biz
//Recipient[s]:Speedy [Speedy@VultureMail.co.uk],Quinn [OCallaghan.QA@PUBCOMCAROFF.gov], Falchion [Falsh@MercMart.biz], Bullet [BrassNeck@MercMart.biz]
//Subject: Urgent Op – Interception
Meet at the usual place 11:00. 500ed down, 500 on completion.
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[Door slams]
[Keystrokes]
FORTUNE IONESCU: Okay, now we’re all settled in, I’ll get started.
QUINN: Can’t you turn the heat up? It’s fucking baltic in here.
BULLET: Do we have to go through this every time? Always complaining [inaudible muttering]
FALCHION: Settle down, chooms. This is Unlucky’s gig. Give him the floor.
[Chair scrapes][Keystrokes]
FORTUNE IONESCU: [Clears throat] The target package is on these chips…
[Chairs scrape, fingers clatter on a hard surface (tabletop?), cyberware whines, people muttering and coughing]
FORTUNE IONESCU: As you can see, it’s a pretty straightforward snatch job. We’ll follow the target through the underground after they get off the maglev using the TFL security cams. Speedy will run point and trail them from this junction…
[Keystrokes]
FORTUNE IONESCU: Halfway down this hallway is a service hatch to a disused platform. Bullet and Falchion will snatch the target and drag them down to the old platform, where Quinn and I will be waiting. We jack in and rip the chip out of the fucker’s head and disappear into the tunnels. Questions?SPEEDY: [Teeth chattering] W-what about ICE? If this guy’s an Interpol spook he’s gonna be armed to the fucking teeth.
QUINN: Don’t worry about any little icicles darlin’, I code combat cab defense systems for a living. There’s nothin’ in that fecker’s head I can’t get around.[Chair creaks]
BULLET: How are we gonna lift this cunt in one of the biggest tube stations this side of the King’s X in broad daylight? Tunnel’s gonna be crawling with corpos.
FORTUNE IONESCU: Well, thanks to Quinn here, we know that tee-eff-ell are up to their elbows in maglev upgrades on the deep tunnels and Paddington’s been having power surges for weeks. When Speedy signals that the target’s in the killzone, we’ll trip the whole station and it’s lights out corpos. You’ll have about a minute before the backup gennies kick in to get the target through the door.FALCHION: Are they chipped? What kind of resistance can we expect?
FORTUNE IONESCU: All we’ve got is a picture and what was on his background check when he was hired by the client. They’re an Interpol spook so I’d expect a standard personal defense package – grafted muscle, bone lace, radar implants, popup weapons, rippers, foot talons, you know the score. Don’t worry about any distress calls, the power surge will knock out any relays in the tunnel, and the disused platform is a fallout shelter, so no sigals will get out once they’re through the door.
BULLET: What about after we’ve got the chip?
FORTUNE IONESCU: Quinn will knock them out, I’ll take the chip and we all go our seperate ways. The disused tunnels can take you pretty much anywhere in the city, out as far as the Uxbridge combat zone. I’ll transfer the cash once I’ve delivered the chip to the client.
FALCHION: We got any backup if things go sideways in the tunnel?
FORTUNE IONESCU: I’ll be monitoring things from the platform so if you get in trouble I can lend a hand.
SPEEDY: [Snorts] Yeah, you’ll be able to ‘lend a hand’…
FORTUNE IONESCU: [Hisses angrily]
[Cyberware whining]FORTUNE IONESCU: I used to be a blood knight in the Court of the Crimson Lance. Still got quite the rep over in Vladtown. Don’t you worry, I think the four of us can handle a lone spook.
FALCHION: I’m satisifed. Let’s jack this fucker.
QUINN: We’ll have him trussed up like a Zhirafa pseudo-hog on Christmas.[Keystrokes]
FORTUNE IONESCU: On that beautiful image, I’ve wired you the 500 eddies down. Jump off is 12:00 on the third. We’ll meet in the JaWood lobby on Praed street.
*****RECORDING ENDS*****
//Imported Content// Source: ZigguratPyramid10/F:/VideoRecordings/2109030345/OpFootage/Speedy/KiroshiHunters/CombinedVisRaw.mxf
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Video is being recorded on paired Kiroshi CyberEyes, featuring a built-in HUD, navigation software and automatic facial recognition tagging. The camera swings back and forth with head movements, pings identifying known faces in the river of foot traffic flowing down the tunnel and comparing them against the METROPOL main identity database.
The tunnel walls are a patchwork of grimy white rectangular tiles and bolted-on metal ducting and cable tracks. The lights glow a dull yellow, giving everything a sickly pallor. The granite floor tiles are covered in a thick layer of scum, obscuring the blue and yellow markings meant to direct traffic.
[Radio cuts over the hubbub of commuters, HUD identifies speaker as FALCHION] “Speedy, give us a sitrep.”
[Video source replies with minor distortion from their internal communicator] “I’m in the tunnel, no sign of the target yet.”
[FALCHION] “Any sign of them on the security cams, Quinn?”[HUD shows another communicator being patched in, identified as QUINN] “Hold your horses, scanning the maglev platform now…”
The stream of commuters swells as an unseen tube train disgorges its load of passengers onto a nearby platform. Tannoys boom and shriek with endless annoucements.
[QUINN] “Gotcha, ya wee bastard. Patching in the camera feed now.”
A video feed pops into the left hand corner of the source’s HUD, showing a thousand bobbing heads and shoulders jostling down a narrow tunnel towards a bank of clanking escalators, stretching up towards another unseen tunnel. Screens placed along the walls flash a myriad of advertisements, the neon glow illuminating sallow faces.
The pop-up feed jumps jarringly, showing the same crowd from the top of the escalators, now presenting an endless stream of faces as they ascend the moving staircases. A red targeting diamond settles on one impassive, unremarkable face, its features divided up by the gold traces of inlaid cyberware. Facial recognition software automatically runs in the background and comes up with a 95% certainty when compared with the image on file.
[QUINN] “See ’em, Speedy? They’re coming your way.”
[SPEEDY] “I’ll pick them up after they pass my pos. Snatch team stand by.”
The video lurches as the source pushes away from the wall, jerking down to show a pair of slender cyberhands, chromed joints, synth-muscles and bones showing through the semi-transparent orange plastic casing. Slightly out of focus are a pair of Vlakop hi-tops with bright orange laces and scuffed white leather uppers, covering black leather trousers with skeletal orange legs sprayed onto the material.
On the pop-up, the feed jumps again to show a series of connected tunnels as the target moves along with the crowd, different angles showing their expressionless face as the yellow lights play across it. They’re androgynous, with a buzz of steel-grey hair covering a perfectly sculpted head. Their thin frame is covered by a black business suit with a Polska Cybernetica security team pin on one of the lapels.
The source feed sways rapidly from side to side, face scanning kicking into overdrive as the source searches for the target. A loud ping signals that the target has been acquired, and a red diamond drops over their face as they pass down the tunnel.
[SPEEDY] “Target acquired. Moving in.”With a gentle but firm shove of a cyberhand, the source effortlessly slips into the crowd, blending with the stream of heedless commuters, walking almost on autopiolt while glued to their agents.
A red marker replaces the diamond, indicating the source’s distance to the target as they both weave their way along the tunnel. The pop-up feed continues to follow the pair through the underground.
[QUINN] “Keep your distance. Don’t spook ’em.”
[SPEEDY] “Chill, geek. I don’t tell you how to ‘run, do I?”
[FALCHION] “Keep this freq’ clear, you two. Speedy, I need an ETA on the target.”
Both source and target turn a corner and ascend another escalator. An ad for a new Longstaff vibrator catches the source’s eye as it scrolls by. Shaking their head, they blink up a nav program and check the distances against a preset waypoint.
[SPEEDY] “3 minutes until the killbox.”
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//SinclairInc ShadowPlay video describer v10.328 running
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The video source shows another underground tunnel, this one also clogged with commuters. Waist high metal fences seperate them into two streams. The tunnel is a short straight stretch between two banks of escalators, one going up towards the station, the other descending deeper into the network.
The footage is being recorded on a pair of military-grade cybereyes, overlaying numerous streams of tactical data including the integrity of nearby cover, constant evaluations of nearby threats and the positions of marked friendly combatants and targets. A red target indicator is closing fast, the outline of a body visible through the crowd. A clock whirrs in the right hand corner, counting down from 180.
Tucked into a shadowy alcove, the source is perfectly still, locked on the outline as it creeps ever closer. Across the tunnel, a white icon marks the position of a friendly.
[Radio cuts over the hubbub of commuters, HUD identifies speaker as BULLET] “10 secs, Falsh.”
[Video source replies, their internal communicator feed crystal clear] “We go on my mark. Ready to cut the lights, Quinn?”
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QUINN: [Static] Just gotta work my way around some Black ICE – there’s a feckin’ Scorpion in here with me.
B.A.W MegaBuilding Resident Access 