“Oh, and we also have the choice to actually set up an ambush for them. We let them trace us to a location of our choice where we get the jump on them. Of course, we don’t know how many people we’re dealing with, and they may vastly outnumber us which means we won’t be able to take them, but it will at least give us an idea of the type of forces we’re working against. There are plenty of abandoned houses to choose from.”
Nightshade inspects the tracer carefully. “I’ve seen one of these before–this looks like a newer model, but it seems to be the same basic layout. I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Definitely want to shut it down before we get to the good safe house, though. If it looks ugly once I take it apart, I think I’ll just stick it on a city bus. Or maybe a garbage truck, if I can manage it. Known routes & stops would let us set an ambush for anyone following the signal, if we set it before they figure out what we did.” She pulls out some tools from one of her jump bags and starts carefully disassembling the device.
As she works, she adds, “They do sometimes have failsafe modes that can be hard to catch. They kick in automatically when the primary signal shuts down, and often operate in a silent mode until they receive an external activating signal. I know most of them, but I can’t guarantee that this doesn’t have a system like that which I’m not familiar with. It’s unlikely, but there’s still a slight risk if we bring it with us. Full disclosure and all. I think Goethe’s right, myself–the payoff is worth the risk. Given what we know so far, this little piece of tech might give us a lot more intel than any amount of interrogation.”
Nail is still tired from the previous events of the day, and he is not much for long discussions even when well rested. After lazily half-listening to all the technical mumbo-jumbo, he says to the group: “OK, so let’s do it. I never really wanted to break into that psych-care facility anyway.”
As Goethe looks on with uncertainty, Nightshade disassembles the device. There’s a soft humming buzz coming from the tracer the elf man tried to attach to the motorcycle illusion. Nightshade removes a panel from the device, exposing a circuit board. She flips a switch on the board, and snaps a small portion of the silicone off with pliers. The hum abruptly stops as an indicator light blinks off.
“That should do it,” Nightshade says. I hope.
Half an hour later, the crew is reassembled at the safe house. Everyone can sense tension in the air from Rescigno, as he casts occasional worried or thoughtful glances toward 4509.
“He’s operational,” Rescigno says, referring to the cyborg. There’s an awkward moment of silence as Rescigno forgets to introduce the well-spoken troll. It takes a moment for Rescigno to realize his mistake. “Where are my manners?” Rescigno says. “Crew, meet…Butch. He’s a, I suppose ‘contractor’ is the right term. He’s part of the team keeping 4509 at peak efficiency.”
Rescigno takes a seat, and gestures to the others. “Please, introduce our new elf guest. I have a feeling he won’t be with us long. Unless he can make himself useful, of course.” Rescigno says the last part with a threatening undertone.
To Nail:
“Oh, we still should break into the funny farm. The more we know about what we’re up against, the better. Getting that tracking device was a great break, but we need to know why all this is happening, and Seneth could hold the key to that. Besides, our infiltrating the hospital will be a bit easier than we figured originally. I’ll fill everyone in once we get back to the hideout.”
Upon returning to the hideout and meeting Butch, Goethe can’t help but think to himself how glad he is that he quit the modification game while he was still ahead. Sure, he sacrificed some combat effectiveness as a result, but at the end of the day, he can go to sleep knowing that he still is fundamentally more metahuman than machine. Additionally, anyone who needs external maintenance is at the mercy of someone else’s whims. It gives people power over you, even your allies. Because even the good guys are going to put their own interests above yours. But the weird part is Goethe finds himself in an odd situation. After the limited time he’s spent running with 4509, he’s experienced a wide range of feelings towards the vatjob that run the entire spectrum between being impressed and revulsed, and sometimes even both extremes at the same time. Throw in some jealousy, and Goethe finds that he really can’t quite quantify how he feels about the guy. But meeting Butch brings a new variable into the equation. For the first time since encountering 4509 in the no-tell motel, Goethe discovers that he feels something new toward the cyborg. Something he rarely feels for anyone: pity.
But there’s business to do, self-reflection can come later.
To the group:
“So good news. There’s a perfect launching point for our infiltration of the hospital. The dwarf museum across the street has a smoke break lounge with a balcony directly opposite the access panel. And it’s high enough up that no one who’s not really looking for anything is likely to notice us. We can run a zipline from there to the panel. And they’re security system seems easy enough to hack for someone with decent prowess at that sort of thing. We’ll get in and out of the museum without anyone being the wiser. Plus, the balcony will also give a nice vantage point for someone to keep a lookout from while Nail and Nightshade infiltrate.”
4509 keeps close to Rescigno, arms crossed over his chest, duffel bag at his feet. He is as calm and unreadable as ever and at first remains silent while the others discuss the plan, until Goethe mentions a lookout. He pulls up maps in his mind via his comm, checking for possible rooftop vantages nearby. “I’ll keep watch.”
“That sounds perfect, Goethe,” Nightshade responds. “Let’s see if one of our contacts can get a hold of some floorplans for the hospital, and I’ll want to pick up some uniforms that are at least close enough to what they wear there to pass on security camera, and then I think it’s time to rest up for a run. Oh, after a quick conversation with our new friend, of course. Shall we see what he has to say after his ride in the comfy trunk?”
Rescigno says to the group, “It seems there are 3 leads to follow up on. The hospital, the tracer, and our new guest here.”
He walks up to the elf man, who is still bound with zip ties and duct tape. Rescigno says, “By the way, what’s your name?” as he rips the duct tape off the man’s mouth. The elf grunts at the sudden pain, but doesn’t speak.
“I said ‘what’s your name,’ son. Doesn’t even have to be a real one; I just don’t want to use pronouns all night.”
The elf man spits at Rescigno, but his saliva hits the palm of Rescigno’s hand as the UO director seizes the prisoner by his face, and with sudden, smooth violence calmly walks forward. The elf reflexively scrambles backward with the momentum, his legs unable to keep up the pace. Finally he falls down, and Rescigno guides him to the floor for an elegant, soft and painless landing. Rescigno smears the elf man’s spit around his face as the elf gags, unable to catch a full breath.
“Your name,” Rescigno demands.
“Fuck you!” the elf responds. He tries to bite Rescigno’s fingers, but the UO director is too quick. He pulls his hand away, jabs the elf in the eye with his finger, and leverages the man’s chin, forcing his face to the side.
“Last chance, bud.” With one hand on the elf’s face, he draws a pistol from his suit jacket holster with the other hand. He lowers the barrel to the elf’s temple and clicks the safety off.
“Alright! Alright, you want a name? It’s Erwin!” the man sputters.
“See? Easy,” Rescigno says. He wipes his spit-slickened hand on Erwin’s shirt, and walks away from him.
To the rest of the group, Rescigno says, “The way I see it, I can talk to our friend ‘Erwin’ here, while the rest of you work the Psycare op. Meanwhile, Butcher can get to work on that tracer Erwin dropped, and hopefully narrow down the location of the receiver. Anyone have a better idea?”
4509 is able to access public-domain information about the area, which is perfectly suitable for finding relative building heights and locations, but won’t give information like security systems or floor plans. The only building tall enough to cover an entire face of the Psycare building is a novelty restaurant just east of the building. The restaurant is called Bouer’s, and sits at the top of a thin, needle-like structure meant to resemble a historical Seattle landmark. It would be risky to take the elevator up to the top of the structure and try to find a vantage point without being seen by the patrons, but not impossible.
If 4509 is satisfied with a weaker vantage point, he can use the balcony at the Dwarf heritage museum, which overlooks the loading docks. The advantage is that there would be virtually no chance of someone interfering with him, but it’s a lower angle of fire and covers less of the building.
I can’t wait to get into that psy-ward and see what we find. Seneth, I hope this is what you still want, Sinthia thinks to herself.
She looks up at the group, whom she has been quietly studying from the corner.
“I will assist the team going to the psych-ward and agree that we should enter from the convenient balcony. I don’t currently know any floor plans, but I suspect there is a chance I will have a sense where to go…once we are inside. Perhaps not, though, so if one of you knows how to access maps of buildings, it would be useful. I will not, however, wear any psy-ward uniforms. I will dress as I choose.”
Sinthia returns to the corner and resumes her quiet contemplation.
I wonder if these fools even think eternally, she thinks while rubbing her temples.
“They don’t, trust me.” says a familiar voice. Sinthia looks up to see who said this, only to realize that no one else heard the voice. Ah, I see…thank you, she thinks.
Nightshade nods tightly. I guess I’ll be taking the mage in with me. Well, nothing like a wild card to make things exciting.
“Sounds fine. Make sure you get some rest, the rest of you. We’ll be heading for the museum shortly after midnight. Should be a fun party.”
4509 steps outside, where he stands at the front door in silence for the rest of the night.
Goethe replies to Nail earlier in the day and says,
“Oh, we still should break into the funny farm. . . .”, at which point Nail face-palms slowly and dramatically. Again, it’s never simple, he thinks.
Back at the hide-out, Nail has only this to say to Rescigno’s plan: “Let’s just get this over with.” He has a drink and goes to sleep sprawled out on the couch.
"All right, let’s do this.
“Where do you guys want me? I can help with lookout, but I think only one person other than the infiltration team should be on museum lookout duty. I can keep an eye out from street level I guess.”
“I don’t know, Goethe. Surprise us.” Nail says from underneath a hat covering his head while he attempts to sleep.
“My only need is physical protection. I am very powerful…in some ways. But when physical attacks are made upon me, I have little in actual strength. If I can not use my powers quickly enough, I am quite weak.”
Most of the crew heads to the dwarven museum, with 4509 the notable exception. The cyborg heads toward the tower with the restaurant at the top. The needle-like tower is the tallest building in the area, but down here at the street level it’s just another steel and plaster facade.
There’s more than just a single entrance to the building. The brightly lit public entrance is worse than useless. Too many people. The wait staff doesn’t use the public entrance, though. They have a separate entrance, unlit, hidden behind the flashy exterior. Trash is piled in dumpsters next to the work entrance, and 4509 watches an employee swipe a plastic card through a lock to gain access.
“I’m watching,” a voice says through his comlink. It’s almost taunting. “We’re the good guys,” Rescigno continues. “Don’t forget it.”
4509 sees another employee heading for the door. It would be profoundly easy to just kill the man and take his card. No fuss, no witnesses…he could drag the body out of sight and it would be hours before anyone found him.
Rescigno apparently sees 4509 spending excessive time watching the man. “Don’t you dare,” Rescigno says. “Knock him out, bargain with him…but don’t kill him. You got it? I swear to Christ, I’ll flip that switch and leave you in that damned alley.”
Something in Rescigno’s tone piques 4509’s curiosity. The man sounded stressed, with none of the assured arrogance of his earlier rant. Rescigno is focusing too much on reminding 4509 just who’s in charge. It sounds like he’s compensating for something…
Meanwhile, the others have assembled at the Dwarven museum. Nightshade spends about ten minutes disabling the security system, most of which was just double checking to be sure she didn’t overlook the real security system. Who protects their property with only a mechanical lock and an alarm system these days? But in the end, Nightshade comes up empty. It appears the building is indeed protected only by technology almost two hundred years old.
Nightshade cracks the lock, and Nail, Goethe, and Sinthia enter the dwarven museum with her. Nightshade keeps the pace slow, still searching for higher technology anti-burglary systems. All is quiet, and there are no surprises.
“Who would want to rob this place, anyway?” Goethe says. “The kind of thugs that break into buildings at night aren’t usually too interested in culture. There’s nothing worth stealing here.”
“Hey, watch it,” Nightshade replies, teasing. “We are those kind of thugs.”
The crew makes their way to the balcony, where Goethe points out the access panel at the Psycare building approximately 35 yards away. Nightshade fires a grappling hook toward the Psycare building, which finds easy purchase and locks in place. She ties the other end off on the museum balcony.
This is the moment of truth. Anyone with a weapon that has a good scope can stay behind and provide extra cover from the balcony here. For anyone who wants to access the Psycare building, this is your stop. Good luck!
I will go last, but will also fly in as a Raven instead of crossing on the zip line. So, Sinthia may go at the same time as the last person along the zip line and land with them, transforming back immediately.
4509’s duffel bag has been replace with a rifle bag that he has slung over his right shoulder. He draws his revolver in his left hand and trains it on the employee’s head as he approaches, sweeping the man for cybernetics on the off-chance he has an implanted comm that he can use to call for help. He cocks the weapon to get his attention. “We’re going up.”
Nightshade has undergone a transformation of her own. Her civilian clothes have been replaced with an urban camouflage suit, flipped to night mode–mottled with shades of dark blue that seem nearly black. She wears a face-concealing helmet, and has multiple pieces of equipment strapped to her body, some with clear uses, others more mysterious. The least mysterious to her companions is the sound-suppressed HK submachinegun.
“I’ll cross first, and get any security shut down and the hatch open,” she says quietly. "Nail, wait for my signal, then you come on across, then Sinthia. We don’t know what we’ll find on the other side, so we’ll need to be ready for anything. Firearms are a last resort, though–once we start shooting, we’re bound to have to shoot our way out. I have a couple of lab coats for us to throw on in case we need to pass near a security camera I can’t disable; Sinthia, you’ll be relying on your illusions to stay hidden if it comes to that. We’ll be following your lead once we’re inside, but if I tell you to wait, stop until I give you the go-ahead. Goethe, secure this position for as long as you can–if possible, we’ll come back this way. Keep an eye on the street and comm us with any suspicious activity. If we can’t use this exit, plan B will be you making a ruckus at the front door while we go out the service entrance. If we switch to that plan, this catalyst stick, " she hands a small cylinder to Goethe, “will disintegrate the line and make it harder for them to figure out how we got in. Any questions?”
If not, Nightshade will proceed to cross the street on the line.