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Message no. 1
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 15 Jul 1999 00:10:02 +0100
*****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[TO: SIGA Archive

+++++begin transcript
Coppinger's office. The Director is as forgettable as ever: across the desk,
in well-worn khakis, is Admiral Kowalski.

"I'm surprised you didn't flag this one up, Dave." she says.

"Conflict of interest." Coppinger replies flatly. "Friends are involved and
my
judgement is questionable."

"Yeah, right. I believe _that_. Come _on_!" Kowalski snorts. "We've got a
clear and obvious police corruption issue. That's SIGA's job. I know, I
know, you've wound your field ops right in now Nar'moh'ach is dead. That
doesn't mean you stop collecting and collating."

"And what do you suggest we do, Jane?"

"Kick it over to the Feds. The FBI can handle it."

"I'm wary of the FBI in general. Especially after the debacle with the
Projects. We aligned ourselves with Achilles and suffered as a result."

"Yeah, well... while they were sulking, you had Lynch - sorry, Mitchell -
out kicking butt. That got their attention. Even if it was just background
to the operation." Kowalski tries to blow a smoke ring, fails. "The FBI
need a success. As long as they get the collar, they'll go a long way to
make it happen."

"Some of them. Others will take their money and turn a blind eye."
Coppinger replies.

"Yeah, I know. But don't you get despondent on me, Dave. I know how you
feel. You spent fifteen years hunting Nar'moh'ach and now he's dead and
you don't know what to do. The answer is 'your job'. It's no worse now
than it was when you were hunting the Doctor. So stop feeling sorry for
yourself and get on with the mission."

"Oorah!" Coppinger mimics the Marine roar. "This means going after
Malone. He's the one pulling these particular strings."

"Yeah, it means going after Malone. You got a problem with that?"
Kowalski mocks. "You on his payroll or something?"

"What's your point?"

"The Agency's job is to identify people who laugh at the law and to shit on
them from a great height. Right? So where does Malone not fit that
picture?"

"True." Coppinger seems to become more animated, as he leans forward
to check his terminal. "Very true. Actually... he'd be a useful example."

"Damn right. You only get to be so overt. I mean, we'll always have
criminals. Let's at least make sure they _behave_." Kowalski grins. "Easy
did a lot for us. She messed with Malone, okay, you expect some payback,
but the sort of blatant buying-off of the cops the Mick did is just rude.
You can't let that go by if you want any respect for the law."

"And you think the FBI will deal with it?"

"No. I think they'll assign someone young and dumb who'll screw the pooch.
Which is where _we_ come in." Kowalski grins. "Wouldn't it just piss
_everyone_ off so much if we managed to take Malone down?"

"Do you have a death wish, Jane?" Coppinger smiles, tired and sad.

"I've got a conscience. Same thing, these days. And I say, fuck it. Malone
stuck his head up, made a big noise. We want to let that happen? Or do
we want to stamp on it?"

"The odds aren't good."

"Look, I know that. But we lean on the Feds, the Feds put an agent on the
case. Lone Star will at least stay out of the way. Some shadow talent
might get in there. At the least, Malone's going to lose money and people
and have to duck and weave. It'll cost him. It makes the point, you don't
get _too_ overt."

"Hardly seems worthwhile. People will _die_, Jane. Malone has a _lot_ of
resources."

"So we should sit back and let him do what he damn well wants? You
never, _ever_ said that about Nar'moh'ach." Kowalski is intent, even
angry.

"No. Of course not. Perhaps you're right, Jane. Perhaps I should resign."
Coppinger covers his face with his hands. "I'm tired. Tired and afraid. I
don't see right and wrong any more. Now I just see bodybags for the
people my decisions killed."

"David..." The Admiral pauses. "What would you do if you quit?"

"Go home to Concord. Write books on political history. Teach at the
college. Be a normal person." Coppinger sighs. "I don't think I can do this
any more, Jane. Resigning so Lynch could be Director, as Mitchell... felt
good. I didn't realise _how_ good. Could I do that again?"

"I don't think he wants the job. Not really. Playing a role, okay. But not
for real. Who would you want to replace you?"

"Can we get Drake?"

"No. Not in time, if at all." Kowalski replies.

"Lilith, then. She's heir apparent. I'll give it a few more weeks. If I can't
get my nerve back... I'll step down and Lilith can take over. Or, perhaps,
we should disband the Agency. Do we really have a mission now?"

Kowalski thinks hard, reaches a reluctant conclusion. "Maybe. You'd
become a fairly focussed outfit, gunning for Nar'moh'ach. Maybe better to
send your specialists where they're most needed and wrap SIGA up as 'job
done'."

"Exactly. Too few agencies will face that reality. Think carefully about it,
Jane. Meanwhile... certainly, talk to the FBI. I don't think they'll do much:
probably send a small team after Malone with enthusiasm but no
experience, to be killed or ignored. But, at least the gesture will be
noticed."


Kowalski stares at David Coppinger for a long time. "Dave... we've been
friends a long time. Right?"

"Correct."

"I'm relieving you of the Agency. SIGA is suspended as of now. Your legal
assets will get the best assignments I can swing, your illegals will get their
slates wiped. I want Byrnes and Karlsbruhn for my staff, Tarkington I'm
going to send to Pax River, you get the picture." The Admiral's voice has
the firm, clear tone of a painful decision made. "Your field agents can
report to me now. They're still doing good work, but I can back them as
well as you for now. You've done your job and more. For you, it's over
now."

"Thank you, Jane." Coppinger looks, oddly, happy: as though a huge
burden had been lifted from his shoulders
+++++end video

Jane's dealing with the staff. I held out to be the Court of Appeal for
anyone who didn't like her assignments, but so far nobody's complained.
Some grumbles, many regrets, but she knows my people and she's doing a
good job. Even Lilith... she seemed _happy_ for me.


No more SIGA.

And I'm actually _glad_. Jane's right. We did our job and we did it well.
But now... we're wondering what to do. And that's dangerous. Maybe
that's where the Agency went wrong and let Bartlett take over... better
to wrap it up now.



I wonder what life is like, when nobody lives or dies as a result of your
decisions?

I think I will enjoy finding out.]<<<<<
-- David J H Coppinger <00:05:43/07-15-60>
Message no. 2
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 15 Jul 1999 00:10:02 +0100
*****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[TO: SIGA Archive

+++++begin transcript
Coppinger's office. The Director is as forgettable as ever: across the desk,
in well-worn khakis, is Admiral Kowalski.

"I'm surprised you didn't flag this one up, Dave." she says.

"Conflict of interest." Coppinger replies flatly. "Friends are involved and
my
judgement is questionable."

"Yeah, right. I believe _that_. Come _on_!" Kowalski snorts. "We've got a
clear and obvious police corruption issue. That's SIGA's job. I know, I
know, you've wound your field ops right in now Nar'moh'ach is dead. That
doesn't mean you stop collecting and collating."

"And what do you suggest we do, Jane?"

"Kick it over to the Feds. The FBI can handle it."

"I'm wary of the FBI in general. Especially after the debacle with the
Projects. We aligned ourselves with Achilles and suffered as a result."

"Yeah, well... while they were sulking, you had Lynch - sorry, Mitchell -
out kicking butt. That got their attention. Even if it was just background
to the operation." Kowalski tries to blow a smoke ring, fails. "The FBI
need a success. As long as they get the collar, they'll go a long way to
make it happen."

"Some of them. Others will take their money and turn a blind eye."
Coppinger replies.

"Yeah, I know. But don't you get despondent on me, Dave. I know how you
feel. You spent fifteen years hunting Nar'moh'ach and now he's dead and
you don't know what to do. The answer is 'your job'. It's no worse now
than it was when you were hunting the Doctor. So stop feeling sorry for
yourself and get on with the mission."

"Oorah!" Coppinger mimics the Marine roar. "This means going after
Malone. He's the one pulling these particular strings."

"Yeah, it means going after Malone. You got a problem with that?"
Kowalski mocks. "You on his payroll or something?"

"What's your point?"

"The Agency's job is to identify people who laugh at the law and to shit on
them from a great height. Right? So where does Malone not fit that
picture?"

"True." Coppinger seems to become more animated, as he leans forward
to check his terminal. "Very true. Actually... he'd be a useful example."

"Damn right. You only get to be so overt. I mean, we'll always have
criminals. Let's at least make sure they _behave_." Kowalski grins. "Easy
did a lot for us. She messed with Malone, okay, you expect some payback,
but the sort of blatant buying-off of the cops the Mick did is just rude.
You can't let that go by if you want any respect for the law."

"And you think the FBI will deal with it?"

"No. I think they'll assign someone young and dumb who'll screw the pooch.
Which is where _we_ come in." Kowalski grins. "Wouldn't it just piss
_everyone_ off so much if we managed to take Malone down?"

"Do you have a death wish, Jane?" Coppinger smiles, tired and sad.

"I've got a conscience. Same thing, these days. And I say, fuck it. Malone
stuck his head up, made a big noise. We want to let that happen? Or do
we want to stamp on it?"

"The odds aren't good."

"Look, I know that. But we lean on the Feds, the Feds put an agent on the
case. Lone Star will at least stay out of the way. Some shadow talent
might get in there. At the least, Malone's going to lose money and people
and have to duck and weave. It'll cost him. It makes the point, you don't
get _too_ overt."

"Hardly seems worthwhile. People will _die_, Jane. Malone has a _lot_ of
resources."

"So we should sit back and let him do what he damn well wants? You
never, _ever_ said that about Nar'moh'ach." Kowalski is intent, even
angry.

"No. Of course not. Perhaps you're right, Jane. Perhaps I should resign."
Coppinger covers his face with his hands. "I'm tired. Tired and afraid. I
don't see right and wrong any more. Now I just see bodybags for the
people my decisions killed."

"David..." The Admiral pauses. "What would you do if you quit?"

"Go home to Concord. Write books on political history. Teach at the
college. Be a normal person." Coppinger sighs. "I don't think I can do this
any more, Jane. Resigning so Lynch could be Director, as Mitchell... felt
good. I didn't realise _how_ good. Could I do that again?"

"I don't think he wants the job. Not really. Playing a role, okay. But not
for real. Who would you want to replace you?"

"Can we get Drake?"

"No. Not in time, if at all." Kowalski replies.

"Lilith, then. She's heir apparent. I'll give it a few more weeks. If I can't
get my nerve back... I'll step down and Lilith can take over. Or, perhaps,
we should disband the Agency. Do we really have a mission now?"

Kowalski thinks hard, reaches a reluctant conclusion. "Maybe. You'd
become a fairly focussed outfit, gunning for Nar'moh'ach. Maybe better to
send your specialists where they're most needed and wrap SIGA up as 'job
done'."

"Exactly. Too few agencies will face that reality. Think carefully about it,
Jane. Meanwhile... certainly, talk to the FBI. I don't think they'll do much:
probably send a small team after Malone with enthusiasm but no
experience, to be killed or ignored. But, at least the gesture will be
noticed."


Kowalski stares at David Coppinger for a long time. "Dave... we've been
friends a long time. Right?"

"Correct."

"I'm relieving you of the Agency. SIGA is suspended as of now. Your legal
assets will get the best assignments I can swing, your illegals will get their
slates wiped. I want Byrnes and Karlsbruhn for my staff, Tarkington I'm
going to send to Pax River, you get the picture." The Admiral's voice has
the firm, clear tone of a painful decision made. "Your field agents can
report to me now. They're still doing good work, but I can back them as
well as you for now. You've done your job and more. For you, it's over
now."

"Thank you, Jane." Coppinger looks, oddly, happy: as though a huge
burden had been lifted from his shoulders
+++++end video

Jane's dealing with the staff. I held out to be the Court of Appeal for
anyone who didn't like her assignments, but so far nobody's complained.
Some grumbles, many regrets, but she knows my people and she's doing a
good job. Even Lilith... she seemed _happy_ for me.


No more SIGA.

And I'm actually _glad_. Jane's right. We did our job and we did it well.
But now... we're wondering what to do. And that's dangerous. Maybe
that's where the Agency went wrong and let Bartlett take over... better
to wrap it up now.



I wonder what life is like, when nobody lives or dies as a result of your
decisions?

I think I will enjoy finding out.]<<<<<
-- David J H Coppinger <00:05:43/07-15-60>
Message no. 3
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 02:11:49 +0100
>>>>>[Well, plus ca change, plus ca meme...

And if any ignorant little shits start to whine that they don't speak
French, they can fuck right off, go find a life, get a clue, and get
lost, okay? There's a free translator at >>LTG<< for anyone who doesn't
know what it means and actually want to know.

+++++begin news report - KFIR Trideo News
"...and we're on our way to the scene now! I understand we're _ahead_ of
Lone Star, who dare not go into the crime-infested hell-hole that is
Redmond in the aftermath of their _brutal_ suppression of the people's
protests!" The reporter sounds enthusiastic, the idealism of youth
overriding the caution of age that says racing into Redmond is a bad
move.

"Our sources tell us a _pitched_ gun battle is in progress inside a gang
headquarters! People are _dying_, and Lone Star babble that they need
backup and reinforcement and can't react yet! Once again, our city's
cowardly cops hide in their uptown mansions while the common folk pay
the price of mob violence!" The reporter's eyes shine with conviction.
He can't be old enough to drink yet. The helicopter flares and settles
to a bumpy landing in a Stuffer Shack parking lot - the Shack is secured
behind steel grilles that would repel a charging Citymaster - and the
reporter leaps out.

"Well, KFIR News is not afraid to go where the corrupt rentacops cannot
or will not! This way!" It sounds like the party's almost over, though:
though the streets have the emptiness of a major battle, the gunfire has
subsided to sullen, irregular crackle, several different weapons, none
firing for long.

"And _this_ is the building where the fighting is going on! Where the
corporate cops _your_ taxes pay for dare not go!" The cameraman follows
the reporter, rather more gingerly than the zealous teenager, especially
where three corpses are visible in the hall: all armed or lying near
dropped weapons, all killed by multiple gunshot wounds. The firefight
inside seems to be over.

"Jim, I think we should wait for-" A feminine voice.

The reporter rounds on the cameraman. "NO! This is the _true_ news! This
is what happens _before_ the Lone Star Gestapo descend on a crime scene!
_This_ is reality, Kate! Look at these men! Gunned down by the fascist
authorities, doubtless denied any chance to surrender or retreat!"

"Those look like Uzis to me. That's bad drek-"

"Of _course_ these people have armed themselves! Look at the carnage
wrought by the Federally-sponsored Children of Thunda in this very area!
But did the cop-Nazis help? No, they let their hired killers run wild!
Now, when their running dogs have failed, the police at last do their
own killing, slaughtering innocent people! Doubtless these men and women
were radicals, free thinkers, opponents of the oppressive UCAS regime,
and murdered for their political beliefs-"

"They tried to kill a Federal officer." a voice snarls from behind the
reporter. "So I shot them."

The reporter stares at the black-clad figure emerging from the
stairwell. "Sir! Are you Jason Lynch?"


The dark stranger raises the muzzle of his suppressed HK227, aiming at
the ceiling instead of the cameraman and the reporter. "Am I..." He
sniggers. Then he laughs. Then he guffaws with mocking laughter. "You
stupid ignorant little rich kid! Lynch is dead. Deal with it. The
boogeyman is gone."

"So who are you, sir?" The reporter asks, advancing.

"I'm just doing my job. Some people were unlawfully held in this
building. I came here to get them. I did. Now I'm securing the building
until Lone Star arrive."

The reporter continues to close, microphone held like a knife. "No, sir!
Who _are_ you? You've murdered innocent people! You have gunned down
helpless citizens! I arrest you, sir, I arrest you in the name of the
people of Seattle -"

"Oh, fuck this noise." The black-clad man lashes out, the HK227's
extended buttstock catching the reporter low in the chest: a second
buttstroke between the shoulder-blades fells him. "I've got work to do.
And you're wasting my time."

"That was..." the cameraman begins, falling silent as the gunman glares:
a cold, pale-blue unblinking gaze, even more unnerving from his
camouflaged face.

"Necessary. I wasn't in a mood to listen to any more of his shit, and
this building is not secure. How else would you shut him up and protect
him from himself?"

"And you are...?"

"Here to protect you. Just stay out of my way and let me do my job." The
black-clad man cocks his head, listening, as 'Jim' vomits over his
shoes. "He got in my way. Those dead men there got in my way. Am I clear
yet?"

"You... uh... you said you were a Federal officer, sir. Could you
identify yourself?"

"Lieutenant-Commander Christian Mitchell. Strategic Intelligence
Gathering Agency." The gunman sketches a bow.

"The same agency as Lynch!"

"So?"

"And why are you here?" Kate asks.

He turns back to the stairwell, motions. Two teenaged girls walk into
view: both mostly wearing dead men's jackets, both with a slightly
other-worldly look of the drugged, chipped or both. "Meet Lucy Yieh and
Ally Flintham."

"Who?" the camerawoman asks. Sirens are closing in.

"Yeah. Exactly. Who? You don't know who the hell they are. They're old
news, right? Fuck you. We don't leave our people behind. You do, we
don't." Mitchell shakes his head. "Get out and take Laughing Boy with
you." The interview - such as it is - seems to be over, and the
cameraman hastens to drag Jim out into the street: Lone Star and
DocWagon are arriving in some force. Mitchell emerges, ushering the two
girls to the waiting medics.

'Kate', too, hauls a moaning Jim to DocWagon. "My boyfriend? He got beat
on?"

The paramedic spares Jim a glance, then a fast probing check that draws
forth several moans. "He's fine. Beat it, I got real wounded to treat."

Kate pauses, looking at Jim, then the police and paramedics closing in
on the building: most of the police facing outward, shotguns and
submachineguns aimed at the empty streets. "Jim, come on. We got to get
out of here."

"We're... going to show the people the violence and oppression that -"

"They've seen. Who's Lucy Yieh? Or Ally Flintham?"

"How should I know?" Jim manages to get to his feet. "Did you get the
footage?"

"Of course."

"Then we'll broadcast proof of the fascist oppression tonight. The
Government and their death squads won't suppress the truth tonight!"
+++++end news report

I never stop finding the stupidity of uptowners hilarious. A dose of
Redmond law enforcement and they're probably going to knit cardigan
sweaters for the poor of the Barrens for the rest of their lives.


For those who forgot and care, by the way, those two girls the Man In
Black was there for were kidnapped off a bus by 'Haze' and his bozos a
few months ago. Guess they got sold to the Pink Salamanders to be
joygirls. No word on the third missing girl yet.]<<<<<
-- Bungle <01:43:32/05-28-59>
Message no. 4
From: BigDaddy <bigdaddy@*****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Wed, 27 May 1998 23:44:52 -0400
>>>>>[Serves some of those buggers right! How dare they leave their own
behind. Never in all my years of running did i leave a live ally on the field of combat.
Well if they turned they were more fodder to cap , but thats beside the pt. ;) What was
the deal with those girls and this 'Haze' fellow? Is he some kind of "liberator"
or kidnapper?]<<<<<

--BigDaddy <00:12:41/05-28-59>
Message no. 5
From: Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 11:10:28 -0700
>>>>>[BigD (and anybody else with a typical attention span)--

The "deal" with the girls has to do with the bus hijacking WAAAAAyyy back
on February 2nd, yeah, almost 4 whole months ago. A bunch of groups
grabbed some transit busses and then slaughtered everybody on board, well
all it seems except a few of them snagged some "pretty young things" to do
with as they pleased and turned the rest into so much hamburger. Haze was
one of them who, it seems liked to hose men, women, and especially, little
kids with an HVAR. His group took four girls before swiss-cheesing
everybody on the bus, and after a few weeks it was assumed that they were
turned into shark-bait. Nobody cared to look anymore and gave them up for
dead. I'm glad to see those two aren't, but they also don't seem to be in
very good shape, either.

What ever happened to the other two?

The "deal" with the dude that's a little quick with the rifle butt, well,
it seems that Jason(RIP) and Lilith Lynch, everybody's fan fav SIGA agents
were the only ones to take out the perps before hosing the civvies on the
bus they chose to help take down. Turned the spotlight up a notch or two
on Lynch and may have had a bit to do with the whole CoT, "we want his
head on a platter" rant. They got what they wanted, it seems, so I guess
this new guy is his replacement or something since normally other than its
front people, SIGA keeps its head down.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <14:59:21/05-28-59 PDT>
Message no. 6
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 23:09:01 +0100
*****PRIVATE: NewzJunkie
>>>>>[Almost right in all regards, NewzJunkie. A few slight corrections.

It's not a "nobody cared" deal, it's that you can hide nine women and
girls in a _lot_ of places in the Barrens. Lots of people kept looking.
Eventually, the cops found one, got a lead to two more, I went in and
got them out.

The last two are both dead, according to the survivors. To be honest I'm
amazed we saved any at all.


I'm not Lynch's replacement. I respected his abilities but I never liked
the man. He was too sentimental, put too much stock in "honour". and he
forgot shadowrunners are fundamentally untrustworthy and amoral. Those
mistakes got him killed.

I don't like publicity, and I don't like idiots who distract me while
I'm working, so I'll subdue them as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Anything else I can clear up for you?]<<<<<
-- LCdr C F Mitchell <23:05:43/05-28-59>
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency
Message no. 7
From: Jeffrey Mach <mach@****.CALTECH.EDU>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 19:16:38 -0700
>>>>>[Folks...seems this new SIGA guy reads the board like the old one
did.

For the record, the cops found one and last two girls, it seems, didn't
make it. And it isn't that they weren't looking, but that they were just
hard to find.

As for the rest of the message:

He's not Lynch's replacement. I.e. honor, shmonor.
I can see that.

Shadowrunners == untrustworth & amoral.
True, for the most part, depends on where you look.

Subdues "idiots" w/ a rifle butt because they distract him.
Got that.

Methinks I'll crawl under a rock for a little while.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <19:16:30/05-28-59 PDT>
Message no. 8
From: BigDaddy <bigdaddy@*****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Thu, 28 May 1998 23:21:28 -0400
>>>>>[Well i can speak for a bunch o' my runner friends when i say honor
makes the runner. If you can't count on your team to be there to back u up then your in a
huge world o' hurt! On the flipside, if Johnson can't trust ya to do the job right, well
no pay for you and your rep slides that much farther in the hole. Moral of the story: Do
your job, trust your team to back your ass, and never fuck over a paying Johnson (unless
he fucks u over first ;) )]<<<<<
--BigDaddy <23:21:10/05-28-59>
Message no. 9
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 22:53:12 +0100
>>>>>[Oh, please.

In the name of "honour", you kill, steal, kidnap and destroy. What is
remotely honourable about stealing information from Company A and
selling it to Company B, killing anyone who gets in your way?

At least have the decency to admit you're thieves and murderers.


What do you produce? Who do you protect? What benefit do you bring to
others?

When you die, who will look back and say 'He (or she) made this world a
better place in which to live?'


If grovelling before corporations, killing and stealing in order to suck
up a dribble of money is what you call honour, then I want nothing to do
with it and I mock those that do.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <22:51:34/05-29-59>
Message no. 10
From: Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 17:55:16 -0400
>>>>>[Is is honor or simple professionalism BigDaddy? Can you tell the
difference? I've known runners that had little honor but were businessmen
and acted as a total professional. I knew I could count on them because I
knew they would keep to a contract. Solid nuyen and a solid reputation was
all they needed. Reputation? Without a clean and rock-steady reputation
you can't earn the big scores there BigDaddy. Don't need honor to do that.

No, most runners *aren't* honorable. Precious few are even professional.
Too many of you are exactly the sort of scum portrayed on the trid shows
and feared by the average citizen. Firing your SMGs full-auto in the
middle of crowds, disregarding the fact there are civilians getting hit
everytime you miss. Stealing extra paydata when you were specifically told
not to. Popping your spurs and threatening the Stuffit Shack clerks when
your beer isn't cold enough. Taking your Westwind for a 200kph spin for
the frag of it, not even realizing the accidents being caused because you
can't be bothered to look in the rear-view scanner.

Dreakheads like that deserve to be removed from the gene pool.]<<<<<
--the Dark Stranger <09:41:10 GMT/05-30-59>
Message no. 11
From: Ein_Schuss <Jhary-a-Conel@***.NET>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sat, 30 May 1998 00:11:14 +0200
>>>>>[ Junkie, lemme get dis right... "Lieutenant-Commander
Christian Mitchell, SIGA" has access here. Sppols ya info. Damn,
what else did he get widda job? Lynch's wife?


But for all A can see, he's not as camera-happy as Lynch was. Face
it, no sane person would've entered a combat zone in Redmond.
Not without backup. Just this fuckhead and his camera - and
Mitchell.

Not SOP, to enter hostage situations single-handedly. Wonder what
Chris trained? 'nother Ex-UCAS Marine liuke Lynch? Ex-SEAL like
Thunda? Ex-Cop like... uh, can't think of any cops in the law
enforcement. Duh. ]<<<<<<<<<<
-- Ein_Schuss <<15:02:17/06-29-59>
Message no. 12
From: Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 18:20:52 -0400
*****PRIVATE: Mitchell
>>>>>[A word of advice Mitchell.

For the most part, your statements regarding shadowrunners are correct.
There are exceptions, but I'm afraid you'll just have to figure that one
out for yourself; nothing I can say is likely to change your mind.

But one of the reasons Lynch was as successful as he was and was able to
live quite as long as he did, was that he didn't go around insulting (or
revealing pointed truths to) shadowrunners. When Abbadon put the bounty on
his head, the suprising majority of shadowrunners didn't go for it. Some
of these bastards would have sold their own mother for a beer and a
soyburger, but they didn't even think twice about going after Lynch. Why?
Well, part of it was the legend of invincibility he had. But part of it
was also the fact he didn't frag with shadowrunners. He knew they were a
resource, one that could come in very handy at times. So he didn't go
burning that bridge.

More than once, assistance from the shadows either saved Lynch's hoop or
helped him take down a perp. You keep slagging the shadows you won't be
able to count on that assistance. A few crazy fraggers might even decide
to take you down if the opportunity presents itself.

So tread lightly Mitchell. Don't burn a bridge before you've even crossed
it; there might not be another way over the chasm.]<<<<<
-- the Dark Stranger <09:51:34 GMT/05-30-59>
Message no. 13
From: Ein_Schuss <Jhary-a-Conel@***.NET>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sat, 30 May 1998 01:15:56 +0200
>>>>>[ What do you pay, tDS? For removing de wannabes?
]<<<<<
-- Ein_Schuss <00:51:51/05-30-59>
Message no. 14
From: Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 20:03:50 -0400
>>>>>[Looking for work, assassin? Most of those drekheads usually end up
getting killed one way or another anyway. Usually it's Lone Star or
corpsec. And when I've needed one of those problems eliminated, I usually
do it myself or do local contracting.

Sorry Ein_Schuss, no work from me today. Besides, a man of your talents
would be wasted on the sorry fraggers. It'd be too easy.]<<<<<
-- the Dark Stranger <10:41:51 GMT/05-30-59>
Message no. 15
From: BigDaddy <bigdaddy@*****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 23:50:09 -0400
>>>>[Obviously Mitchell ya never ran in the shadows didya? You know what its
like to survive 48 hours on pure adrenalin? No, i thought not. As to what we
protect,produce, etc. We protect those whom pay us the best. If it be a high and mighty
corp's exec. daughter or a lowly scumbag ork policlub member so be it. We produce results,
good or bad, shit happens cope.

When we die, we all die, we will be remebered by those closest and
whispered about by those who didn't. Toast a drink in the names of
chummers lost and your will be drinking well into the nite.

So live it up chummer, and if you EVER so much as mock me or my boyz,
come to Chicago and we'll see if you can back your talk up.]<<<<<
--BigDaddy <23:48:12/05-29-59>
Message no. 16
From: BigDaddy <bigdaddy@*****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 29 May 1998 23:55:59 -0400
>>>>>[ Honor or Professionalism? hmmm tis the ever lasting choice we make
eh Stranger? I will side with Professionalism for therin lies honor.

If you do your job right, no matter how dark or dirty or nasty it may
be, you do it with pride and honor and you can live with yourself the
next day. I do.

As to those remarks about firing rounds of ammo into innocents, drivin
down lil ole ladies, and capin' girl scouts for sheer pleasure. Sorry
that ain't my cup o'tea. I do what i do because that is what i do best.
If I must kill lil ole grandma because she holds the paydata for Fuchi
to complete their latest product, so be it. It is our job, it's what
makes a runner a runner.

If you fall into the category of random killing, mad bombings, etc etc.
i will agree with your dark boy, your genes should be removed from the
proverbial old pool. ]<<<<<
--BigDaddy<23:41:18/05-29-59>
Message no. 17
From: BigDaddy <bigdaddy@*****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sat, 30 May 1998 00:04:41 -0400
*****PRIVATE: the Dark Stranger
>>>>>[ I saw your ad for assassin, didnt know who you wanted. Perhaps
looking for a well trained killer? Or just to shoot down one from afar. Check my portfolio
at >>>Encrypted<<<. It will speak for itself.]<<<<<

--BigDaddy <23:49:10/05-29-59>
Message no. 18
From: Karl Low <kwil@*********.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sat, 30 May 1998 01:13:09 -0600
>>>>>[Get off yer high horse, Mitchell and try breathin' the air where the
real people live.

I ain't ever claimed to be honorable, and I figure that puts me one step above
the corps and guvmints that do, despite bein' the ones who sooner or later are
signin' my paycheck.

I protect myself, my friends, and the people I work for or with. Someone
needs my protection, they can figure a way into one of those slots. I don't
try to be a super hero, and I don't blind myself to the idea that what I do is
probably gonna wind up hurtin' someone somehow, so I just do what works.

As for what I produce, y'might as well ask yerself the same question. Bruises
and busted up newsmen don't count as an answer. 'course, a real classy guy
just woulda let the little cheese-head make himself look like an idiot rather
than validatin' what he was talkin' about by shovin' a gunstock in his
stomach.

As for the benefits I bring, I bring freedom from idiot guvmints and corps
that wanna legislate how we think. Some wilson wants t'fry his mind on a BTL,
or spend a couple of hours spaced on the newest mix from the labs, I'm not
gonna say no. They're grown-ups. They can make their own decisions widdout big
brother lookin' down their necks.

Remember.. I don't instigate nothin'. I only do what people pay me t'do, an' I
only do that cause it's the easiest way t'make a decent livin' in this "land
o' the free and brave" or whatever.

You wanna come down on somebody.. come down on my employers..

Oh wait.. they're your bosses too ain't they? Guess that's a problem.]<<<<<
-- Xenon Black <12:08:34/30-05-59>


*****PRIVATE: Combine
>>>>>[Just got inta town and saw your offer. If you still need a decent
rigger, I'm available for a while here.]<<<<<
-- Xenon Black <12:11:32/30-05-59>




>What do you produce? Who do you protect? What benefit do you bring to
>others?
>
>When you die, who will look back and say 'He (or she) made this world a
>better place in which to live?'
>
>
>If grovelling before corporations, killing and stealing in order to suck
>up a dribble of money is what you call honour, then I want nothing to do
>with it and I mock those that do.]<<<<<
> -- Mitchell <22:51:34/05-29-59>
>
Message no. 19
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sat, 30 May 1998 00:39:43 +0100
*****PRIVATE: the Dark Stranger
>>>>>[I saw your public reply, and I agree with you there.

But I'd argue that what got my predecessor killed, was _associating_
with shadowrunners on anything except a "you got information, me got
money" basis. What else, in all honesty, does the deniable black-ops
market understand? They exist to be expendable, deniable criminals for
hire to the highest bidder.


The shadows "saved his hoop"? They also killed him. They also killed
hundreds of UCAS citizens. Where did CoT buy their weapons? Shadow
market. The untraceable black market that supplies you people. Who made
up a lot of CoT cells? Deniable hired muscle. Shadowrunners, merely low-
rent ones. No, I can't find it in my heart to seek the company of
shadowrunners in general.

As for taking me down... well, frankly, I got nothing in particular to
live for. No family, no career since I got stuffed into SIGA, no
prospects. Life sucks. I'll do my job until it kills me. And when enough
money was offered, the shadows turned on Lynch and killed him. All his
friendships and his Sioux honour didn't do a damn thing to save him.


Thank you for the courtesy of the private reply, and for the advice,
though. You had no need to do so. I _do_ understand there are some in
the shadows who can be given some trust; I work with one such, a fellow
SEAL, Lynch was another, your file suggests you're a third.

But experience so far shows me those are rare exceptions.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <00:38:42/05-30-59>
Message no. 20
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sun, 31 May 1998 18:34:37 +0100
>>>>>[Forty-eight hours on pure adrenaline? Oh, please. Yeah, yeah, you
the man, you're hard-core, meanest machine on the street. Yawn.

And I know Chicago pretty well, BigDaddy, had a few vacations there
myself.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <11:43:22/05-30-59>
Message no. 21
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sun, 31 May 1998 18:34:00 +0100
*****INTERNAL: SIGANet
>>>>>[TO: D J H Coppinger

Lynch used, briefly, a British weapon, the IWS L7.

I believe I require one. See for yourself why.

+++++begin diary excerpt
Another raid. This one chippers instead of hookers. The survivors from
the Pink Salamanders said they sold the least tractable of their "uptown
bitches" to this crew, to star in their simsense.

I'm wasting time if I want to get the girl alive, of course, she's
probably been killed making some snuff chip weeks ago. But there's a
grim satisfaction in taking out this sort of trash, and I lack any
better target for now.

This time, I have a Lone Star FRT at my back. Good. Too many places,
especially here in Seattle, have forgotten what law and order means. It
means being safe to live within the law. It means not being murdered for
being the wrong race, or wearing the wrong coloured scarf, or for
wearing a wristphone that some junkie can sell for a hit of zappers. Of
course, interfering with the street scum's "right" to kill, peddle
drugs, do what they damn well want will piss them off.


Why the hell did Lynch waste time on these animals? Some show signs of
sanity, they're in it for the money with few pretences. Fine, they don't
deserve hate, but why _friendship_? And the smart ones will see the
signs and take cover. I don't have to worry about those.

The rest? The more I read of the Shadowland archives, the more I wonder
why he wasted any effort at all to protect these whining selfish
ingrates. They cross my path on duty, they die. Why did Lynch have such
a problem with that?


We're reaching the destination and I'm rambling. Thinking into
headware's an addictive habit. Maybe I should write a book or something?
Nah. Not me, not writing. I'm told I lack imagination, that's why I'll
struggle to make O5 and never make Captain. Big deal, I _like_ field
work. As long as they don't retire me I'm happy. Give me an enemy and a
weapon and I'm as happy as I get.

Like this place. A burned-out bar and brothel. The records didn't know
it was burned out, but it sure as hell is. Who did it? Well, the foot-
high "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" spray-splattered across the front of the
building's kind of a clue, isn't it? Inside, millimetre-wave radar shows
five mobile people on the ground floor, and lots of metallic junk.

We drive by without slowing, let alone stopping. Drone overhead shows
nobody reacting to us, but that building has thermal insulation in the
roof space to keep snoopers out. Not like the others in the precinct.
Shouldn't have shown you cared, guys, you told us you had something to
hide.

I brief my Star backup quickly. Basically, "if it looks like a threat,
kill it." They seem unhappy and glad at the same time: I guess cops
don't like going in this bloodthirsty, but it's a relief to know you
don't have to shout "Police, halt or I fire, you are under arrest!"
before you're allowed to get a round off. Jenkins, the element leader,
already went over this, but I want to be sure we all know the plan.

As we double back, I brace by the van's back doors, exchange a quick
smile with one of the team, Karin Hetz, she's kind of cute and agreed to
go get dinner with me after the debrief.


I'm beginning to like this job. A never-ending stream of scumbags to
kill, cops to work with who have some idea what they're doing, carte
blanche as long as I get results, and the threat is usually - though I
got to remember not always - self-taught amateurs who think _owning_ a
SMG is the same as being skilled in its use.

One last check, making sure the HK227 is ready to fire, selector on
full-auto, and then I'm making a clumsy shoulder roll on the uneven
asphalt.

I'm out of practice. That hurt more than it should have. But I'm
crouched with a HK227S in my shoulder and the Dwarf gawping at me
through the doorway is dead in a spray of crimson gore. Flechettes,
meatgrinder rounds, got to love them. No overpenetration, and truly
awesome wounding when you hit a gap in the armour.

The cops are deploying behind me, covering my back, letting me take
point with no distractions. I'm a SEAL on the rampage, come to shut you
down, stop me if you can.


Three down even before I crash into the main bar. Damn, I'm good.

I'm yelling "NOBODY MOVE!" and a big Troll is moving, well, fuck him, I
shoot him.

He doesn't go down.

Oh, shit.

I shoot him again. Three rounds, centre-torso. I _see_ the hits.

My Lone Star backup is coming through the door behind me, I'm still
shooting at the Troll, he's going for a crate. I know enough Russian but
to know that's Cyrillic writing on the case for a NSV 12.7mm. A God-be-
damned heavy machine gun.

Not on my watch, not on my mission, not in my Navy. I aim and fire.
Half-a-dozen rounds, slapping into the Troll's torso. I fire again,
hitting his chest and face. Still no effect! Half his jaw's gone and
he's still on his feet, as he lifts the heavy machine gun out of the
crate he swings it to point at me and I throw myself to the side. Won't
this guy just _die_?

Jenkins, bless him for loyalty and damn him as a fool, either hasn't
notice my fire or assumes he can do better. He hits the Troll with a
double-tap to the torso, before the huge machinegun explodes the room in
noise and light. The muzzle blast alone is shattering.

It didn't hit me. He fired at someone else. The move-by-wire gets me
into a sprinter's crouch before I've finished thinking the idea through
and I lunge straight at the Troll, coming in under the NSV's long
barrel, he can't fight the recoil to get it down and aimed at me. I
crash into his legs and straight-arm his crotch with all my strength.

I'm not sure the punch got his attention, but the charge of #4 buckshot
certainly did. He drops the machinegun and doubles over and I twist out
from under him, take a split-second to aim and fire a second shot into
the side of his head. At last, he goes down as I snatch the HK227 back
off its sling and swing around: the last man in the room has time to
drop his gun and raise his hands.

Jenkins is down. Hit four times in the chest, his heavy raid armour just
keyholed the big bullets, designed to take out armoured vehicles. He's
almost been blown apart.

One of his assaulters is clutching the stump of an arm: a bullet in the
wrist took the hand almost clean off, leaving it dangling on a strip of
torn flesh.

Karin was hit in the shoulder and the head and died at once. The Curse
of Mitchell strikes early, all my women either dump on me, turn on me,
or get killed. Goddamn.


Three down, two of them dead. What a goddamn clusterfuck. And we haven't
even started on upstairs. Charred stockrooms and an office and now it's
time to take the stairs.

Four people moving up there, according to the radar. Okay, no more Mr
Nice Guy. Two concussion grenades, two flash grenades, impact fused, and
I throw them as fast as I can and sprint through the smoke.

The studio. Couple of walls ripped out. Big old-fashioned bed in the
middle. Four people. One guy, the tech, he's got a naked girl in front
of him, gun to her head. Two others, both guys - kids, really - wearing
just an induction rig - hiding behind the bed.

"I'll kill her! I'll kill her! Let me go or I'll kill her!" the tech
yells. Over and over. It's pissing me off.

I beckon the two guys: scrawny, no muscle tone, cheap-ass hood tattoos,
and they shuffle around towards me, hands clamped over their groins like
soccer players lining up for a free kick. "Get down the stairs." I tell
them and they do, the cops grabbing them and hustling them off. Now it's
me, backed up by Patrolman Salo behind me, and the tech and the girl.

She's in her teens, still growing, pretty in an underfed jailbait way.
Wearing just stockings and a garter belt and some bruises. Crying and
shaking with fear. The tech's got long hair and a Hawai'ian shirt and a
big cheap pistol jammed against the side of her head. He's shaking too.
Heard the firefight, heard the heavy machinegun, knows he's probably
tagged with Murder One from the deaths downstairs.

"I mean it you sonofabitch! I'll kill her! I'll blow her fragging head
off! I'll kill her! You get out of here or I'll kill her!"

He's repetitive, and boring, and I know he means it. How much worse can
it get for him? He's got nothing to lose if he kills the girl now.

A handsign to Salo, who moves sideways: I go the other way. He turns to
keep the girl between me and her, still shouting that he'll kill her.
Does he think I'm deaf? Or that I forgot?

"Okay! Okay, we'll let you go!" Salo says. The tech sees me unslinging
the HK, looks away from me, looking at the cop, heaving the girl around
too.

I use the smartlink, firing from the hip, to shoot him in the knee. He
screams and the muzzle comes away from her head, and I cover the four
paces in an eyeblink and tear it out of his hand, breaking some fingers
in the process, and as he falls I bring the HK227S's bulky muzzle down
to aim it one-handed at his head -

And manage to stop myself squeezing the trigger. I'm better than these
guys. I don't murder a helpless, wounded man. He's going to jail, not to
Hell. "Salo?"

"I got him." The cop nods, over the sights of his own submachinegun. The
tech sobs with pain, blood flowing through his fingers and his foot
hanging at the wrong angle. No more dance classes for this guy. I turn
to the girl, who's got the sheet off the bed as a wrap, is still crying.
She's okay. Good.


Still a fucked-up mission. Don't know what that Troll was wearing or
snorting, but he took over thirty rounds of ten-mil flechette and ball.
I'll await the autopsy results with interest.
+++++end diary excerpt

If you're interested, he was using Kamikaze. And I still think I need
that L7, unless you want one of those corpses to be _me_ next
time.]<<<<<
-- LCdr C F Mitchell <13:53:23/05-30-59>
Message no. 22
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Sun, 31 May 1998 18:40:38 +0100
>>>>>[Nicely put, Xenon. So much less sanctimonious than some of the
folk on this board.

There have always been criminals, there always will be, what really
pisses me off is guys who claim killing and stealing for hire is some
sort of noble crusade against a Great Evil. "Lookit us, we're knights in
shining armour, killing working Joes to save the world from... uh...
whatever it was again."

Saying "I do what I do, and I do it for the money" is a damn sight more
honest.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <11:49:43/05-30-59>
Message no. 23
From: Brian Angliss <angliss@*****.COLORADO.EDU>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 12:35:33 +0100
>>>>>[What's so honorable about being a soldier, Mitchell? You steal and
murder
on someone else's orders and get paid for it too, just like a runner does.
The difference is you do it to protect a parcel of land, or an abstract
idea, or simply because some REMF tells you that it will further his goals;
goals which you know nothing of and can't divine. You have to take it on
trust that your orders serve your country somehow, when they just as often
serve some officer's grandiose scheme to become general and distance
himself even further from the action.

You are a mercenary, paid to do someone else's dirty work, and you delude
yourself into believing that it serves some greater good. At least I'm
honest enough to admit that I'm willing to kill and steal for no other
reason than I get paid really well to do so. And I'm honest enough with
myself to admit I do it to serve someone else's interest rather than my
own.]<<<<<
-- Fat Chance <12:23:28/05-01-59>

>>>>>[Can it, Fat Chance. Leave him alone. You were in his same situation
once
yourself, so cut him some slack.

Just a friendly warning. The shadows are occasionally occupied by
terrorists, criminals, black marketeers, and associated scum, but they are
occasionally occupied by people for whom the word honor has meaning, and
they are truly dangerous. Others are simply amoral but are horrifically
competent, and they are also truly dangerous. Another group of
shadowdwellers are patient, and they plan so carefully that everything you
do brings thier goals cloaser to completion. At some point, you'll run
into those people, so take care you don't hesitate in surprise, or you'll
be dead before the surprise wears off.]<<<<<
-- Skull <12:33:27/05-01-59>
Message no. 24
From: Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 15:32:52 -0400
*****PRIVATE: BigDaddy
>>>>>[Perhaps you misunderstood me. I'm not looking for an assassin. And
if I do go looking, I'll be restricting my search to professional kick
artists, such as Ein_Schuss. Don't bother applying.]<<<<<
-- the Dark Stranger <13:49:10 GMT/06-01-59>
Message no. 25
From: Erik Jameson <erikj@****.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 15:32:55 -0400
*****PRIVATE: the Dark Stranger
>>>>>[For a "jack-booted thug" (I understand that's how the
Seattle media
referred to you in your recent "bashing of free journalism by an oppressive
government" incident; you'd think by now they would have come up with a new
phrase) you are refreshingly intelligent and candid. I have to agree with
much of what you said.

Yes, the shadows did kill Lynch. But the shadows also helped Lynch in many
ways. All it took was one mercenary.

We have our uses. Your federal masters understand that. So does big
business and big crime. In many ways, we're little more than a gun,
waiting to be pointed by someone waving a credstick. You're a gun, waiting
to be pointed by someone with superior rank or waving the flag of
patriotism. The philosphy may differ, but in practicallity, you aren't
much different than any top-tier professional shadowrunner. You just have
a steady job.

We're not all mercenary. Some do have a higher purpose in mind than nuyen,
thought I don't claim to be one of them.

Some are in it strictly for the nuyen, regardless of their initial reason.
But some of them, once bought, stay bought. Think of it as mercenaries, or
thieves, honor. And for other reasons, some of us won't accept certain
types of contracts or contracts from certain employers. Call it what you
want.

There are even a few that simply don't know any better. What would you do,
Mitchell, if you were suddenly fired by SIGA? Would you be content
flipping soyburgers? Could you handle a desk-jockey spot as a faceless
corporate drone? Do you really know how to do anything other than kill?

So not everyone is a scroffy shadowrunner wanna-die.

If you have no reason to live, why do you keep breathing then? It's not my
business, nor honestly do I really care. But without a purpose of some
sort, even one so tawdry as nuyen, what keeps a trained killer going?

So you've read my file. Filled with nothing but horrible government lies,
half-truths and innuendos I'm sure. <smirk> While I may be one of the
exceptions, it's smart to trust a shadowrunner about as far as your could
throw one, unless you've bought their services yourself.

Keep that in mind and keep in mind not to rile potential help (you may need
to hire one of us one day, or heaven forfend, become one of us).]<<<<<
-- the Dark Stranger <14:38:42 GMT/06-01-59>
Message no. 26
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 20:17:23 +0100
>>>>>[You ask a question and then answer it for me, Fat Chance. I'm a
soldier because I'm protecting the UCAS. I _could_ make a lot more money
as a freelancer, killing and stealing for other people's profit. And I'm
lucky because I have a lot of latitude in how I work, which is precisely
why I make sure I _don't_ get used to further some REMF's ambitions.

Delude myself? Not hardly. I'm taking out the trash.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <20:14:32/06-01-59>

*****PRIVATE: Skull
>>>>>[Thank you. Others have pointed out that I overgeneralise when I
say _all_ shadowrunners are scum.

I'm not easily surprised, either.]<<<<<
-- Mitchell <20:15:43/06-01-59>
Message no. 27
From: Brian Angliss <angliss@*****.COLORADO.EDU>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 14:55:11 +0100
>>>>>[I wonder sometimes what it's like to work for someone who's no better
>>>>>than a corp and still feel that it's protecting something of value....
>>>>>+++++signal lost+++++

My apologies, Mr. Mitchell. I appear to have a small discipline problems
with one of my officers. Take care of yourself, and may our professional
behavior and attitudes serve us well should we ever face each other across
a battlefield.]<<<<<
-- Skull <14:31:32/06-01-59>

*****INTERNAL: MRangers Secure Communications
>>>>>["Fragit, Skull, you know I'm right! He's protecting a corrupt
>>>>>government because he's deluded himself into thinking that it's worth
>>>>>protecting! He'..."

Attention, soldier!

"Yes sir!"

Soldier, you have disobeyed a direct order not to provoke Mitchell.
Explain yourself.

"No excuse, sir!"

Fraggin straight, soldier! No excuse, but I still want an explanation. NOW!

"Yes, Sir! Mr. Mitchell has obviously not experienced the direct results
of his actions. He cannot have the experience to show that the UCAS is as
militant and shortsighted as any of the Big 8. The UCAS denies involvement
in the national security of all other nations, yet regularly hires
mercenaries to do gather information, perform assassinations, and conduct
shadowruns in the same manner as any corporation. The UCAS government
regularly hires shadowrunners to steal information and technology from
megacorporate concerns. They claim that the innocent people they
supposedly protect are worthy of protection, yet they never address poverty
or megacorporate influence issues. They rely on artifically produced
patriotism to provide gung-ho fanatic believers like Mr. Mitchell who then
risk thier lives for lies that the government propogates intentionally to
retain power, such as free speech, freedom of religion. Mr. Mitchell has
been self-deluded into supporting a status-quo which kills more people a
year through neglect than any soldiers have in since the EuroWars."

Are you finished, soldier?

"Yes sir!"

Good. Listen, I understand your position, although I don't agree with it.
Your criticisms are applicable to any and all national governments, not
just the UCAS, you realize. But where will pointing this out to Mitchell
get you, Fat Chance? You will only point out the flaws in his logic, and
far too many people react violently when that happens. We cannot afford to
draw undue attention to ourselves, and Mitchell, with all his naive
enthusiasm for the UCAS military, is still a representative of a potential
customer, one which we cannot antagonize. And just because you can point
out the holes in his beliefs, I'm certain that I could poke holes in yours.

"Sir! My reasons for believing this...."

Attention!

"Yes sir!"

Better, soldier. I know your background, working with the Yucatan rebels,
working for Aztlan prior to that, and all that. I know why you feel the
way you do, but while your fanaticism is just as strong, and has the same
blind spots that Mitchell's does, it's directed toward a different arena
and conclusion. Nothing more. Now, you disobeyed a direct order. State
your disciplinary action.

"Boot camp again, sir. Starting from day one, with the new recruits.
Heavy emphasis on obedience to orders. Demotion from current rank. Public
apology in the same forum where I disobeyed your orders."

Interesting. You keep your rank, Fat Chance, and as I'm responsible for
your conduct just as you are responsible for the conduct of those soldiers
in your command, the apology is unnecessary. But you will conduct boot
camp again, including special forces training. And then you'll report to
Marrekesh for desert training.

"Yes sir!"

Dismissed.]<<<<<
-- MRangers Secure Communications <14:54:52/06-01-59>
Message no. 28
From: Jett <zmjett@*********.COM>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 16:52:52 -0400
>>>>>[I've run with guys who are top-of-the-line hoop-kickers, but who I
wouldn't want to meet alone in a dark alley. Myself, I like to think I have SOME
morals...I won't do wetwork unless I personally think the guy needs to be offed, and I'm
loyal to my teammates as long as they deserve it. But I'm not gonna try and plead some
"I wanna save the world" bulldrek. Sure, I try to do my share of good deeds, but
it all comes down to A) the thrill of breaking the law, B) Kicking the hoops of people who
deserve it, and 3) saving up the nuyen and retiring to a nice beach in the Carribean. And
paying the psychiatrist.]<<<<<

-- Jett <16:36:53/06-01-59>
Message no. 29
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Re: Law Enforcement
Date: Mon, 1 Jun 1998 23:00:38 +0100
*****PRIVATE: the Dark Stranger
>>>>>[Fascinating. Well, in order... the SEAL teams don't encourage yes-
men, you're trained to speak your mind and call bullshit when you see
it. I don't claim to be a genius, but I do try to think things through.
We _have_ to be independent thinkers, where we usually work you can't
"refer to higher authority", you da Man for the day. You decide or you
die. Focusses the mind somewhat.


If there were no uses for the shadows they'd be gone. But those uses
serve the corporations or organised crime a lot more than they do the
Government. Look at me: what am I now? A Government-owned shadowrunner.
But I _am_ still UCAS. Still subject to the UCMJ, still under lawful
orders, still obeying my oath to protect the UCAS and its people against
enemies foreign and domestic.

I just resent the attitude that the life of (for instance) a cop or a
corporate security guard, has no value. These are _people_. They leave
friends and family behind. Killing them leaves a hole in the world.

I know, I know, double standard, I take _pleasure_ in killing chip-
peddling scum who don't drop their weapons fast enough. But they're
breaking the law. A cop on his beat, a sec-guard walking his patrol,
they're doing their job, _enforcing_ law, with rules and regulations and
oversight. Jackbooted government stormtrooper or not, I still answer for
my actions. Who do _you_ answer to?


"Like any shadowrunner"? Well, not quite. I make a hell of a lot less
money, for instance. I pull down >>encrypted<< a year after tax. Not
much compared to what I could make in the shadows, is it?

If I kill the wrong person, I get the Oversight Committee on my back. I
get life in Leavenworth if I really fuck up. A shadowrunners says
"whoops" and walks on.

I don't execute the helpless. Threaten me and I'll react, but I don't
murder children (although I've killed ten and twelve-year-olds who were
trying to control the recoil of their rifles, but then they were armed
and trying to kill _me_...) Yeah, some runners feel the same... others
don't.


If SIGA fired me? Back to the Navy for Mrs Mitchell's blue-eyed boy, I'm
only TDY to them.

If the Navy fired me? Well, for sure I wouldn't flip soyburgers. I don't
think I'd like most of the company in the shadows, either, though. Find
a good security or merc unit and hook up with them. Zach could probably
get me in with Serenity's FRT, or I could try to impress the Rebels in
Seattle or Overseas Ventures in Britain, or there's the Legion
d'Etrangere...

You're right on one thing, I don't know much except killing. But _damn_,
I'm good at it. And it's not a skill that's going out of fashion anytime
soon.


I'm a soldier, Mr Stranger. Lynch... was a soldier but he wasn't me. I
didn't like the man, but he was a good Marine. But he could set it aside
to deal with the shadows. I can't. Not most of them, not reading the
self-serving crap that flies across Shadowland.


Why do I keep living? Pride. Unit tradition. I'll _find_ a reason to
live. I felt this way after Kathleen left me, and I got my purpose back,
got over my problems. Until then I motored on because I'm a SEAL and we
do not _ever_ quit. It's maybe not something an outsider would
understand, but being a SEAL isn't a badge or a word, it's your _life_.


So now I'm a hired gun for a cowboy intel outfit that seems to be
falling apart: well, hell, I'm gonna be the best hired gun they ever
had, show them what someone from Team Eleven can do, and I'll follow
orders and do a good job, and maybe my next assignment will be better
than this one.

If not, then they kindly built a shotgun right into my arm, I can kill
myself anytime I want to. Knowing you can takes away your enthusiasm for
_doing_ it, though.


And, before you say it... you could be right, slotting off _everyone_ on
Shadowland might not be the wisest of manoevres from what you say.
Consider this SEAL re-educated.]<<<<<
-- LCdr C F Mitchell <22:51:34/06-01-59>
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency
Message no. 30
From: "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject: Law Enforcement
Date: Fri, 5 Jun 1998 23:58:55 +0100
>>>>>[Well, Mitchell just struck again. Nicky "the Stallion"
Padoglio,
arrested in his house for firearms violations, now hit with three
charges of first-degree homicide as well because his bozo bodyguards
decided to shoot it out and some of them died.

Gotta love that guilt-by-association thang. Your bodyguard shoots at a
cop. Stupid, I admit. The cop kills your bodyguard. Okay so far. But now
_you_ get charged with murder. Neat or what?

Can't say Mitchell isn't playing by the letter of the law, can we? After
all, there's always some nice legal way to shaft us. Mitchell got a BFG,
Mitchell got a badge, Mitchell can do what he damn well likes.

I think I might go see what Detroit's like this time of year.]<<<<<
-- Bungle <23:50:54/06-05-59>
Message no. 31
From: shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk (Paul J. Adam)
Subject: Law Enforcement
Date: Sun, 28 Apr 1996 13:59:43 GMT
*****PRIVATE: <CORRUPTED>
cc: Marshal Xavier Qoph, InterPol
>>>>>[If InterPol does not cease acting as a paid enforcer for Aztlan - a
nation that, at last check, had no connections to nor recognition of InterPol -
then the UCAS will have to reconsider its co-operation with, support and
funding for, and recognition of the International Police.

Your Commander Drake witnessed a terrorist incident by Aztlan military forces.
Two UCAS citizens died in the course of this incident, which occurred wholly
within UCAS territory. There were no arrests and no apprehensions, despite
the heavy InterPol presence.

I look forward to your explanation of this incident. I look forward to it with
enormous interest. Especially the part where you explain where six dead and
wounded bodies went: somehow they disappeared from a crime scene observed by
about a dozen of your men. Especially when you tell me how and why the entire
Seattle resources of Special Branch have been "diverted" and are
"unavailable"
to investigate clear breaches of UCAS law by Aztlan personnel.

We subsidise InterPol to enforce the law. If you are unable to do so, then
stand aside and allow us to get on with it. Please do not pursue our agents on
flimsy evidence, while standing by scratching your asses while Aztlan soldiers
murder civilians in our own cities.]<<<<<
-- D J H Coppinger <14:05:42/04-28-57>
Director,
Strategic Intelligence Gathering Agency

Further Reading

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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.