Back to the main page

Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

Message no. 1
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Hunters and Hunted
Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 22:50:37 +0000
*****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[This is how it started. When they finally got round to calling me.
After I'd got thoroughly sick of pretending to be that Oreo jerkoff in an
empty apartment with crappy trideo and nothing useful to do.

+++++begin video
The phone rings. "Oreo?"

"Yeah?" Quinn replies, in a pretty good imitation of Oreo's voice. Over a
noisy phone link (noisy because of injected white noise, but some days the
cellular phones _are_ pretty bad) it should pass muster.

"Change of plan. Grab a car, head north. You able to speak freely?" The
distorted voice on the other end asks.

"Wait one... yeah, we can talk."

"Ditch the chumps. You get out alone or you stay. Get me?"

"Yeah, no trouble. They'll be gone. Where do I go?"

"North. Everett. Move." The line goes dead.



Quinn snaps the late Oreo's cellphone shut. "Got that?" she asks her radio
link.

"Working. I count... eleven possible airfields that can handle Vegas-
capable planes." Emma's calm, level, unnaturally perfect tones. "They'll
minimise our alert time. There are other options if he goes VTOL, too."

"Yeah. Okay, we have enough people, spread them out. You can't hide
this sort of parade coming into one field." Quinn suggests. "And VTOLs are
expensive."

"Unless Malone is distributing his assets?" Emma suggests.

"I thought of that, but it's not in his profile." Lynch's voice.

"No. But I distrust profiles, particularly when their results suit me."

"That's why I like working with you, Captain Diaz, you are _very_
professional." Lynch sounds like he means it, despite the fact that he and
Emma spent several years as determined blood enemies. "Okay. Quinn,
head north. Lilith and I will trail, the rest of us will fan out flanking.
Scramble 512 and have her trail me, one klick back. Get V-12's crew on as
many of those fields as we can while we move."

"Done." Emma says. "Good luck, Lieutenant Rodriguez."

"Thanks." Quinn mutters, as she walks out of the grubby tenement. It's
not _bad_, just... not good. She's been waiting alone there for nearly four
days, masking herself to look and sound like the late lamented Oreo.


The Dwarf BTL-peddler drove a decent vehicle, at least: a Toyota Elite,
finished in a glittering Mercury Silver paintjob. Quinn starts up and moves
out, joining the northbound traffic and picking up speed.
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- The Mighty Quinn <22:50:43/02-14-61>
Message no. 2
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Hunters and Hunted
Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 22:50:37 +0000
*****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[This is how it started. When they finally got round to calling me.
After I'd got thoroughly sick of pretending to be that Oreo jerkoff in an
empty apartment with crappy trideo and nothing useful to do.

+++++begin video
The phone rings. "Oreo?"

"Yeah?" Quinn replies, in a pretty good imitation of Oreo's voice. Over a
noisy phone link (noisy because of injected white noise, but some days the
cellular phones _are_ pretty bad) it should pass muster.

"Change of plan. Grab a car, head north. You able to speak freely?" The
distorted voice on the other end asks.

"Wait one... yeah, we can talk."

"Ditch the chumps. You get out alone or you stay. Get me?"

"Yeah, no trouble. They'll be gone. Where do I go?"

"North. Everett. Move." The line goes dead.



Quinn snaps the late Oreo's cellphone shut. "Got that?" she asks her radio
link.

"Working. I count... eleven possible airfields that can handle Vegas-
capable planes." Emma's calm, level, unnaturally perfect tones. "They'll
minimise our alert time. There are other options if he goes VTOL, too."

"Yeah. Okay, we have enough people, spread them out. You can't hide
this sort of parade coming into one field." Quinn suggests. "And VTOLs are
expensive."

"Unless Malone is distributing his assets?" Emma suggests.

"I thought of that, but it's not in his profile." Lynch's voice.

"No. But I distrust profiles, particularly when their results suit me."

"That's why I like working with you, Captain Diaz, you are _very_
professional." Lynch sounds like he means it, despite the fact that he and
Emma spent several years as determined blood enemies. "Okay. Quinn,
head north. Lilith and I will trail, the rest of us will fan out flanking.
Scramble 512 and have her trail me, one klick back. Get V-12's crew on as
many of those fields as we can while we move."

"Done." Emma says. "Good luck, Lieutenant Rodriguez."

"Thanks." Quinn mutters, as she walks out of the grubby tenement. It's
not _bad_, just... not good. She's been waiting alone there for nearly four
days, masking herself to look and sound like the late lamented Oreo.


The Dwarf BTL-peddler drove a decent vehicle, at least: a Toyota Elite,
finished in a glittering Mercury Silver paintjob. Quinn starts up and moves
out, joining the northbound traffic and picking up speed.
+++++end video]<<<<<
-- The Mighty Quinn <22:50:43/02-14-61>

Further Reading

If you enjoyed reading about Hunters and Hunted, you may also be interested in:

Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.