Well shit, I knew that this run was probably going to go all sideways before it even started. That bakebrain, HC, went and got himself kidnapped. Thanks to Taki’s divination we tracked him to the middle of Lake Pontchartrain, specifically, the causeway in some sort of metal room. The little pervo’s hoopty ride wasn’t working either. Luckily it was just a disconnected battery, khorosho for someone with an electric personality like me.
En route to the causeway a short in the van’s electrics (I told you it was hoopty) kicked the radio on. The news is reporting that NRFL ‘bots want retirement pay now. Boppers need to realize that they’re machines and get any high falutin’ ideas of autonomy and/or sentience out of their silicon thinky bits. Also, the prez of the Confederacy has a bad case of the gout keeping him from seeing storm damage from Gaston. Rebel choob. That aside, the trip was uneventful until Sarge pointed out the weapons fire pock marks on the bridge. He may be a tusker but he knows mileetsya ops when he sees them. After my deft driving avoided a large hole in the road we came upon the flotilla. Quite a spectacle, it was somehow anchored to the causeway, an armada of smaller boats lashed to a aircraft carrier and a tanker. Taki divined the name Mary Celeste… must be where our little bakebrain is being held.
Guards had set up camp at a breach in the causeway. No prob for my stealth. I’m so slippery that not even my chummers can see me. Lucky for us that doughboy Sarge spotted an old chummer of his, Hileus Eax. Apparently, this flotilla is some sort of rebellion against the Lord Mayor. Politics. Not really my bag, but something tells me we’ll get dragged into this mess. A-okay with me if there’s nuyen to be had. With a little slick talk the old tusker got us through the guard post and Hileus directed us across the miasma of shipwrecks to the Mary Celeste, a small battered freighter that had seen better days. Taki, Hileus and Sarge boarded. I stayed down below to keep an eye peeled for trouble.
Trouble indeed.
My chummers engaged four guards on deck almost immediately. I rode a bolt (complete with thunder… I’m classy like that) to the top of the cargo container we suspected our little twitch friend to be in. That one always dumbfounds the mundy set, they’re still in awe of magic. Taking advantage of the situation I turned one of the guards to lunchmeat with a lightning blast. The apparent ringleader appeared. A real pervo looking Mr. Who who bombshelled as soon as he spotted us, leaping over the far railing. By the time I bolt rode over there he was gone and we were in mop up.
We freed HC and discovered that two of the guards were his brothers and his youngest brother, Funyun, was being held below deck. Though it wasn’t a complete kittycat run we still had some loose ends. So, being tricksy, I probed one of the brother’s – Slim Jim I think it was – minds. I discovered that the Mr. Who in charge was Hoagie Carbuncle, a notorious terrorist arms dealer who sold a shipment of arms to some chummer of his in a speedboat who took off back to Neo Orleans shortly after. We had HC’s brothers taken into custody headed back to the sprawl.
At the Fallen Angel for post-op drinks, Katherine had replaced the ancient flat-screen TV with a trideo monitor and the news was reporting a mass grave uncovered in Bucktown. They were apparently victims of the goblin purges back in the bad ol’ days. We spent a couple of days R&R while HC looked for a place to stow Funyun. He also discovered that Carbuncle was a sedevacantist – some biz that probably has something to do with the current lack of pope right now. I see a civil war brewing in the RCC that will no doubt drag us into it. Like politics, not my bag unless it’s profitable.
I was feeling great. My genemods were too, apparently. I think they’re heading into stage III development. The aesthetics finally seem to be kicking in. Electric blue organic tats are starting to appear… and my eyes! Who needs a twinkle when you’ve got a glow? Very khorosho indeed!
We gathered at Taki’s place as Funyun showed up running from the truant badges. HC, in his usual twitch fashion, went outside to pull some hairbrained wool over their eyes. I took the more magi-technical approach and ramped up the house’s electrics with the hope of shielding Funyun’s RFID from their scanners with an EM field. Taki took the cue too and made one of the officers “not see” a pothole. Worked like a charm and thankfully our bakebrain chummer caught on and didn’t do anything stupid. The badges left without incidence.
Then BLAM! Like fate, the news carpet bombs my day. Right there in the background of a fluff piece about that douchecanoe hangout Club 720 on top of the Kern arco is fucking Alexander J. (Janus) Cuomo, the Massive Dynamic slave scientech responsible for some of my genemods. Also, the exec that tried to get me kicked out of the stealth security program back when I was a wagemage at Massive Dynamic. Had HC do some digging and discovered that he’s now the sole officer of 720 Enterprises, LLLLC. Also discovered that he bought a condo in the Kern arco for cash outright just six months after I ditched out of Massive Dynamic.
Something tells me that this isn’t a coincidence. Though I may just be paranoid.
