Logs for ShadowRN and Associated Mailing Lists

From:	Paul J. Adam ShadowTK@********.demon.co.uk
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Sat, 2 Dec 2000 00:23:48 +0000

Message no. 1 *****INTERNAL: Fast Response Action Group
>>>>>[+++++incoming telecoms call detected
+++++routing: BGen C Ernang
+++++trace attempted
+++++trace successful
+++++accepting call

+++++begin transcript
E: BGen C Ernang
L: Col J R W Lynch

E: You rang, Jason?

L: A little local trouble, Chuck?

E: Your pet Mafiosa hired herself some Elf-nazis. They somehow turned
into Wildcats. Fancy that.

L: Still riding a marked limo, General? Or did you decide you needed
something less... conspicuous?

E: How would you know? You're in Cambodia.

L: Actually, I'm closer than that. Listen.

E: <clang in background> JESUS CHRIST!

L: Guess again.

E: What...

L: Just most of a can of Jolt Cola. There's a security clampdown, didn't
you hear? No grenades in or near DC. Almost a pity.

E: You're...

L: In Freedom Park, yep.

E: So you don't have the balls to kill me.

L: No, I just don't have the political muscle to get away with offing
you at home yet. Give me two or three weeks and I'll walk into your
fucking office, slap on the cuffs, and-

E: You won't get that much time.

L: Want to bet? You assume your ritual is going to work. It won't.

E: Why not?

L: You don't understand what you're dealing with. You're thinking you
can control what you're unleashing. You're wrong.

E: Scare stories.

L: I _know_ I'm betting my life on you being wrong. What do you have
staked on being right?

E: You really think you can carry this through?

L: Chuck, look out of your right window. See that? That's the Marine
Corps Memorial. What's our motto? Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.

E: How romantic.

L: How true.

E: You're an annoying little mayfly, Colonel, but you can't do more than
irritate.

L: <mock-Southern accent> I guess we'll see what we're gonna see, right,
General? Have fun meeting the Oversight Committee.
+++++end call

Sorry, sir... the trace was rock-solid to the outskirts of Phnom Penh.
In fact, we've got a precise grid...

Frag. Drek. Damn!

Sir, he spoofed us. Somehow he ran his signal out of the Maxim Arms
compound.

You don't think Maxim could be... no, not after the way he messed with
them.

We scrambled a response team to Freedom Park... and found a six-pack of
Jolt with one can missing, and a few Marlboro butts. Nothing else.

Local police were less than helpful. They claimed our troops didn't have
jurisdiction outside the exact bounds of the District of Columbia and
that Rosslyn, being Virginia, was outside our bailiwick. Since we
outgunned them we were able to persuade them to overlook the issue, but
their co-operation leaves a lot to be desired.

This could be a problem, sir.]<<<<<
-- Captain L S Pettie <00:23:21/12-02-61>

From:	Zebulin Magby zebulingod@*****.com
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Wed, 22 Nov 2000 18:03:39 -0800

Message no. 2 *****PRIVATE: Jules
>>>>>[As a mutual 'enemy of an enemy' and therefore a friend, we'd like to
offer our services in harrasssing a certain....thorn in your side. I believe
the name is Ernang. We are...willing...to do you a favor, in return for an
out of town safe house for awhile. Would you be interested?]<<<<<
-- Nobilis Domini <18:03:13/11-22-61>

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @*****.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com

From:	Paul J. Adam ShadowTK@********.demon.co.uk
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Fri, 24 Nov 2000 22:37:44 +0000

Message no. 3 *****PRIVATE: Nobilis Domini
>>>>>[You know, you need to be careful with that name. Some folks using
it managed to make themselves very disliked, a while ago. I'm not an
Elf, neither are many of my friends... though some of our most valuable
allies are from Tarislar. Not a problem, just a comment...

That said, I do believe I can find you a low-profile bolthole to shelter
in, if you were to cause some inconvenience to the good General Ernang.
Be warned, though, he's well-defended.]<<<<<
-- Jules <22:37:53/11-24-61>

From:	Zebulin Magby zebulingod@*****.com
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Sat, 25 Nov 2000 11:15:51 -0800

Message no. 4 *****PRIVATE: Jules
>>>>>[Thank you for being generous. As of right now, we are working towards
putting a thorn in the General's side. If we need anything further from you,
we will contact you here. Oh, and wathc the news....things have a tendency
to be...explosive...around us.]<<<<<
-- Nobilis Domini <11:15:0x/11-25-61>

_________________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get your free @*****.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com

From:	Paul J. Adam ShadowTK@********.demon.co.uk
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Wed, 29 Nov 2000 22:31:35 +0000

Message no. 5 *****PRIVATE: Jules
>>>>>[Forward *this* to your boss.

It's a pity the sonofabitch survived, but you can't win everything.

+++++begin video
The cameraman is fumbling with a newsfax dispenser, trying and failing
to get it to accept CAS quarters in exchange for a copy of the _Post_.
An occasional glance up tells him (and you) that he's in Arlington metro
station, but he continues his argument with the newsfax machine while
cursing under his breath in a pronounced Alabama accent.

"Taft, this is Lincoln. Bullseye is on Independence Avenue, approaching
me now." the swearing cameraman's earpiece says.

"Roger." he says softly, and suddenly the dispenser obligingly spits out
a neat curl of headlines. Picking up his briefcase, "Taft" tucks the fax
into his coat and walks to the escalator.

"Oswald, Booth, Hinkley, this is Taft. Take positions." 'Taft' says
calmly as he lets the escalator carry him into overcast daylight. It's
mid-morning on a wet Washington DC day, and not many people are around
Arlington today.

"All, this is Lincoln, target is passing me now."

"Roger."

But, as Taft emerges into the light, he is one of four other Elven
males, all well-dressed and carrying luggage, all briskly walking
through Lady Bird Johnson Park with a definite purpose to their
movement.

And as they reach the traffic circle, a black Federal limousine escorted
by two police motorcycles can be seen leaving Arlington Memorial Bridge
and slowing to take the junction. The damp pennant flags have a single
star _argent_ on a field _rouge_ superimposed on a ground _noir_ -

"Now." Taft says calmly.

In unison, all four Elves drop their briefcases and suitcases. Taft
comes up out of his faux-leather attache case with a cut-down AK-98 and
he aims and fires, raking the limousine's windows with his first burst.
Others are firing too, another AK and an assault shotgun and a rocket
launcher whose first smoke trail just misses the limousine.

Taft triggers the BG-22 grenade launcher mounted under his rifle, the
small projectile airbursting above the limo's hood. Fragments turn the
armoured windscreen into milky opacity and score the glossy black
paintwork.

Ten-gauge AP slugs punch fist-sized silver holes along the limousine's
flank as a second rocket hits it in the trunk, the warhead blasting a
tantalum slug clean through whatever luggage was in there -

The other rifleman, still raking 5.45mm APDS into the limousine,
suddenly falls back clutching his throat and choking, blood spraying
through his fingers and from his mouth, as someone returns fire from
inside the limousine.

Taft drops to a crouch, firing a second BG-22 round that airbursts just
short of the limo and sprays it with red-hot razor-sharp shards of
steel.

The shotgunner is reloading with controlled haste, as one of the
motorcycle cops gets up from where he'd dumped his Scorpion bike and
starts firing his pistol at the three terrorists. The rocket-gunner
yelps and clutches his shin.

Taft fires a burst at the policeman, missing but sending the cop diving
for the cover of his fallen motorcycle.

The limousine accelerates, tyres spinning on the wet asphalt. One tyre
is flapping loose on its rim but the run-flat is doing its job and
staying put.

Taft fires two more grenades, finishing the destruction of the bodywork
but inflicting no significant damage, before the vehicle is lost to view
amidst the trees. Another rocket misses short, blowing a couple of
startled Canada geese apart.

"Okay, we're done." Taft says to his radio. Two of his partners drop
their weapons and run back towards Arlington. The fourth assassin, dead
or dying, is left where he fell. Taft holds onto his rifle for a few
dozen yards, until he's sure the motorcycle cop hiding behind the
dropped Harley isn't coming out to fight some more... then he, too,
throws it aside and picks up the pace.
+++++end video

We got out alive and uncaught, thanks to cunning plans on our part and
having a safehouse to disappear into...

Oh, all right. Besides, they'll track it soon enough, and we earned
bragging rights.

We cut through Arlington cemetery, ditched the suits and made like
tourists by the time we reached the footpath. Strolled out through the
north gate, gawked at the Netherlands Carillon and bitched that it was
closed for winter, ogled the Marine Corps Memorial, and got the Metro
from Rosslyn.

It would have been good to have _killed_ Ernang, but that was never a
probability, not there anyway. For sure we've stirred him up and given
him a new set of problems, distracted him, drawn some heat off you.

I won't say "you owe us" for this. But... I hope this shows we can
assist each other in future.]<<<<<
-- Nobilis Domini <22:31:45/11-29-61>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Sat, 3 Jan 1998 13:17:13 +0000

Message no. 6 *****INTERNAL: Easy Eight Staff
>>>>>[This is what happened yesterday, and why the Boss hasn't been off
the phone since she got back.

+++++begin trideo
Easy's office, at the Easy Eight. Dwayne walks in, looks with some
surprise at Vincenzo: the big Ork is standing by the desk, his Mossberg
shotgun hanging on its black web sling at his side. He looks seriously
battered about, but functional.

"Vinny, why are you still here? Aren't you meant to be meeting the
Butler Chem guys? Sort out this morning's snafu? I mean, they'll be
back, all we can do is try to salvage the best deal for us that-"

"Change of plan, Dwayne." Vincenzo shakes his head. "We're not going to
that meeting."

"But if you don't show, Willis and Nakamura are going to -"

"Jemima Willis is dead, Dwayne." Easy steps gracefully into the room,
and Dwayne looks stunned. "So is Nakamura. So is Heihachi, and Tom
Norton, and Kim Chun Pak, and his brother Rhee." She smiles, her face
icily beautiful.

As the list of dead reels off, Dwayne staggers back in shock. "You're...
you're..."

"Not dead, Dwayne? I knew we had a traitor inside. It took a while to
narrow it down. You were smart, but not smart enough."

"So... what now?" Dwayne asks, after a long, long moment.

"You leave. You leave the club, you leave Tarislar, you leave the UCAS.
If I ever, and I mean _ever_, see you again, I will kill you on the
fucking spot. Do you understand?" Easy's voice is as calm and
passionless as if she were offering him coffee, yet Dwayne is visibly
terrified.

"What about-"

"Whatever it is, you leave it. This life is ended, Dwayne. Make another
elsewhere, far from me. Or I will end it for you. Go quickly, there are
many who wish you dead." Easy turns her back on him, and Dwayne runs for
the door.

He's barely out of sight before he cries in alarm, the shout silenced
amidst a sharp cracking noise... followed by a heavy thud. Mani walks
into the office, closing the door behind him.

"That was cruel." Vincenzo suggests. "Letting him think he could
leave..."

"As far as I was concerned he could." Easy settles happily into her
leather chair, lifts her booted feet onto the desk, and carefully places
their spurs on the foam pad. "I also warned him others were less
merciful. What's so cruel about that?"

"Yeah... right. We thought you were dead, Boss. Glad you're not."
Vincenzo takes a chair himself, wincing slightly as he sits. "Now what,
though?"

"Now?" Easy shrugs. "We've got land, power, water, people. Usable roads,
now through Bartolo's turf, he'll get our traffic left alone. We're in
business."

"You're not going with the Butler scheme, are you?" Vincenzo asks in
alarm.

"You kidding?" Easy snorts, amused. "No, we're not building a
contaminated waste distribution centre. We've got some serious
construction to do. Can't farm? We're going to build a factory."

"Amaze me." Vincenzo grins. Outside, you hear Dwayne's corpse being
hauled away. "We're a long way from civilisation, with a dubious supply
line. So it's got to be making something that most people don't want to
live near, that's compact and high value and would need escort anyway,
and doesn't need huge amounts of raw materials, and has a good profit
margin... Tailored biologicals?"

"Looked at that, but you need way too much starting capital for us to be
able to pull it off." Easy shakes her head. "Close, though. Explosives."

"We're building an ammo plant?" Vincenzo looks thoughtful, then nods.

"Shell, bomb and warhead filling. Bring in the casings, ship them out
filled." Easy lights a cigarette, offers the pack to Vincenzo. "Good
margin, because most places that'll let you build these plants are too
dangerous or too isolated: but Butler sneaked an unlimited zoning permit
through on our patch, so we're cleared. There's a decent profit margin:
not many of these plants in North America, and demand's pretty high and
getting higher. I've already got Fed-Boeing in Everett interested, they
have to import unitary warheads for their Swordfish missiles from a
plant in Jakarta at the moment If we can get quality product up to
them, they'll pay good money for it. From there we get into making our
own casings, maybe rocket motors, maybe fuses. Nothing fancy, but it's
growth and it's work. Sound good?"

"Not quite what I had in mind, I admit." Vincenzo ponders. "But it's way
higher stakes for someone to blow up an ammo plant than to poison a
farm. Are we okay for capital? This isn't going to be cheap."

"Need about twelve million for the basic plant, if we keep a lid on the
construction costs. We can raise that, with what I've got left, what
we've stolen from Heihachi, and what our friends will back us with.
Gonna be tight, but it's still basically what we made from killing
Thunda." The Elven samurai looks tired, happy, and suddenly very young.
"We're back in business. Vinny."
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- Vincenzo <13:16:54/01-03-59>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Back in Business
Date:	Wed, 13 May 1998 00:15:52 +0100

Message no. 7 *****INTERNAL: Farmer Archive
>>>>>[+++++begin transcript

F: 'Farmer'
T: 'Tractor'

T: Good news and bad. The pyromaniacs are out of control.

F: It doesn't matter overmuch. Back off and watch. If they get caught,
we can call them a CoT cell. If not, they might still be useful.

T: That should work. The good news is I've recruited a civilian and a
group of high-grade troops.

F: More data, please?

T: The civilian was a rather senior Yakuza enforcer until her employer
made a misjudgement and got himself killed. Heihachi Abe, you may
recall?

F: Ah, yes. That was quite the New Year's party, by all accounts.

T: Since then she's been seeking work, with only moderate success. The
shadows are only just settling back down to normal after the
destruction of CoT.

F: Destruction? Was a single leader caught? Use their success at
escaping certain death as a template, Tractor, we may have to do
likewise.

T: Perhaps. In any case, she leapt at the chance of stable and paid
employment, and she has the proper unconcern for irrelevancies.

The soldiers are even better. A five-man mercenary team, whose
mission has been snatched away from them. They wanted to kill a man,
but he inconsiderately got himself shot down before they could reach
him. That man destroyed their units nearly two years ago, and they've
been on the run ever since.

F: ...Leopard Guard? Survivors from the company sent to Seattle?

T: Precisely. They are not aware of any connection we have to Aztlan and
I felt safest keeping it that way. They may not react in a
predictable manner. Their talents, though, might be useful.

F: Other recruitment? How are you set for expendables?

T: Almost at a standstill. The pool of hotheaded fools who'll risk their
lives for a chance to loot, rape and kill is seriously diminished:
CoT acquired many, and got them killed. Others who might have taken
such an opportunity are being cautious: it'll take a while before we
can have a decent force of expendables. I can still call on thirty or
forty if necessary, but that's about it, and I don't want to waste
them needlessly.

F: I'd like you to start rebuilding our operations. Do you think that's
feasable?

T: Oh, yes. Thunda and then CoT brought a lot of light into a lot of
grubby corners, took out a lot of competition. By what turns out to
be great good luck, we'd been dormant throughout, recovering from
Wild Rose. Now we're almost ideally placed to rebuild some of the
networks. Are we just going for cash generation, or did you have
something else in mind?

F: Cash generation to start with. There's a good-sized gap in the
weapons market, I suggest you grab us a piece of the pie while you
can. Ditto BTLs and drugs. I'd also like you to try and get in
contact with some magicans. Particularly those that might seem...
questionable, ostracised, dangerous. Check Shadowland, check the
streets, ask around. If you can make first contact for me, then I've
got someone who'd like to interview them.

T: That's feasible. And May should be a useful guide as to markets.

F: Codename her. Hedgerow?

T: It'll do.

F: Good. Any unusual events?

T: We lost a potential recruit. Prisoner Number Six, the convict
instructor? He was working in the lab when a chiphead with a hostage
demanded the clinical simsense. The prisoner tukilled him, got the
hostage out alive. The CO made one hell of a stink about it, and we
lost the prisoner to Rusanov's Rebels. A pity, too, he was very
talented, but-

F: Matthew Van Holde. Ex-corporate security. Suffered from a sense of
honour. Nicknamed 'Ronin' on the streets. The supreme irony is, of
course...

T: Oh, my. The bus hijacks! <Laughs> The one who refused to kill his
hostages. Yes, I remember. He wasn't killed, then?

F: Lynch, ever the sentimentalist, brought him in alive and cut him a
deal. A period of confinement as prisoner-instructor instead of
death. No, he would have been a dangerous recruit. Hedgerow and... a
name...

T: The ex-Leopards call themselves 'the Forsaken'. I think we should
leave them that. It suits, and it hides any connection to us.

F: Yes, I see your point. Anything else?

T: No, nothing else to report. No other orders?

F: Just make sure you're top of the list for RAPID THEFT when it
happens. Even with SIGA compromised, we're still dangerously exposed.
We need to get out from under the light.
+++++end transcript]<<<<<
-- Farmer <00:15:43/05-13-59>

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <Shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Back In Business
Date:	Mon, 3 Aug 1998 17:27:51 +0100

Message no. 8 *****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[TO: All SIGA Staff

Ladies and gentlemen,

Thank you for your forbearance over the last, difficult weeks. A
necessary deception has been completed, with near-complete success: the
Farmer's network in the UCAS has been effectively destroyed.

Your hard work, over the last months and years, has made this
breakthrough possible, for which I sincerely thank you.]<<<<<
-- D J H Coppinger <17:23:34/08-03-59>
Director
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency

From:	"Mark A. Imbriaco" <mark.imbriaco@*****.COM>
Subject:	Re: Back In Business
Date:	Mon, 3 Aug 1998 15:38:08 -0400

Message no. 9 ***** INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[ To: D J H Coppinger

Very nice. Glad to see you back in the saddle, bossman. ]<<<<<
-- Alexander Monroe <15:37:25/08-03-59>
Matrix Scrounger
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency

From:	"Paul J. Adam" <Shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Back In Business
Date:	Mon, 3 Aug 1998 21:52:48 +0100

Message no. 10 *****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[TO: Alex Monroe

It's good to be back, believe me. I'm not sure how Lynch and Lilith ever
survived the low-profile life-on-the-move, bouncing from hotel to motel
to boarding house. I'm more of a homebody. They seemed to _like_ it.

Anyway... we have a lot of work to do. Read Lilith's downloads to see
what went on.

Oh... I forgot. Lilith isn't dead. It was just convenient to let
everyone think she was...]<<<<<
-- D J H Coppinger <21:54:24/08-03-59>
Director
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency

Mailing List Logs for

Further Reading

Disclaimer