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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

Message no. 1
From: Mach mach@****.caltech.edu
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Mon, 3 Jan 2000 00:02:34 -0800
*****PRIVATE: Buckley
>>>>>[Long time no interface, but I hope this is worth your wait.

First things first though, I know that this is a bit late, but part of
the delay was to make sure I had no more tracers sniffing at me and that
nobody would connect me and the info to you. The other part was because
_I_ always do a thorough job, and I wanted to get you everything I
could. Also, you aren't my only customer, and what with the holiday
rush and all.... Okay, a bit of it was my S/O gave me her sweetest
"take me to ######## for X-mas and I'll ^#$% your cybernetically
enhanced brains-out."

You get the picture: Been busy.

So, let's call any late penalty you may be thinking of equal to the
bonus fee for this job being a bit of a ball-breaker, and say we're even
when you cough up the original fee, which I believe we set at
>>ammount<<.

Now about them tracers.... _Somebody_ went through some trouble to
"erase" you. Looks like they had resources, but probably were more
interested in getting the job done fast than done right, so I did manage
to pick up a few data-strands here and there. My hounds also managed to
pick up a few tails that weren't standard equipment, shall we say. I
managed to get what data I could and double-check to "disinfect" it from
any digi-bugs. Only real trouble I had was probing "your" SIN. (Good
quality, but I doubt it's a real one. Who in the Shadows would have,
use, or even want a real one?) Some hot tracer IC on that. Luckily, I
had a friend w/me and we scragged the first screamer and were able to
punch the hell out before some of its N+1 buddies were able to sink
their photons into us.

Which is not to say I've got nothing. Lessee...for a taste: while
thumbing through some CAS APBs, I happened upon someone with your face.

+++++include Buckley?.pic

(That you? I think so. My machine thinks 98.4% probable, but time can
change a face.)

Attatched to it was that this person was wanted in connection with a
murder, possibly of magical execution (pun intended). That set off a
few bells and whistles. A few more because the files I dug up relating
to it look like some tapeworms had a real picnic. I managed to
unscramble a bit of the stuff that got chewed on, but chunks of it were
just erased. My guess, the worms got busy but were innoculated by the
CopNet deckers before they got done. The name: Thomas Anderson mean
anything to you? If I read between the garble, I think the guy may have
been an accomplice or associate. Dunno.

'Course if I was keeping up my membership to the Oliver Stone Memorial
Institute for Advanced Conspiratorial Theory, I'd suggest you may not be
the person in the photo, just a poor mindwiped sod with their face
nano-stitched or magiked on...but hey, you didn't pay me to wax
philosophical.

I've got more data, of course. However, there is that little matter of
payment. Authorize the cred transfer to >>account<<, I'll send you all
the files I collected, plus my in-depth analysis, all part of my usual
excellent service.

Oh yeah...Happy New Year, whomever you may be.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <23:53:15/01-02-61 PDT>
Message no. 2
From: Raije murk@****.org.au
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Tue, 4 Jan 2000 12:13:27 +1100
*****PRIVATE: NewzJunkie
>>>>>[The lateness of your reply is somewhat disgusting, I was getting
ready
to pack up and move interstate just in case you'd been fried. Be glad I
myself was somewhat busy, and that I'm not a corp, or else I'd have to pay
you twice for it.Ahh well, I guess I didn't exactly supply a deadline did I?

Yes, it was definately worth my wait though. Good work NJ, you're worth
every ¥ I spent. I'll keep you in mind for future jobs.

Thomas Anderson...nope, name doesn't ring any bells. I might get you to
check up on him sometime in the future though. Perhaps I could bounce some
ideas off you at some stage, if I ever figure any of this stuff out...

The outstanding balance has been credited to your account.]<<<<<
-- Buckley <12:06:25/01-04-61>
Message no. 3
From: Mach mach@****.caltech.edu
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Tue, 4 Jan 2000 00:11:20 -0800
*****PRIVATE: Buckley
>>>>>[Well Missy, you get what you pay for. Normally that amount of
effort would cost you quite a bit more from one of my competitors.
Frankly I think you will be plenty happy w/ the analysis (emphasis on
the anal part), and all but yeah if you don't know who you are, I guess
you might be in a bit of a hurry, holidays or no.

The account has been fattened nicely, so here's the data-dump.

+++++include: Buckley.file

All I could find on you, and a few threads I found on Mr. Anderson. It
isn't more than a cursory search on him, but it should provide somebody
(*hint*: me if you want another matrix search) with a decent starting
place. Good luck. Looks like you may need it.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <00:10:30/01-03-61 PST>
Message no. 4
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2000 11:48:06 +0000
*****INTERNAL: Luciano Cesare
>>>>>[I'm coming to Seattle in the next few days. We need to close the
operation down properly, and pay a few debts.

You're a good _consigliore_, Lucky. I don't always remember it's your job
to give me bad news. I should think of that more often.


+++++begin recording.
A videoconferenced meeting. Three men. One, a balding, elderly Human:
the second, also Human, but a little younger and a lot better maintained:
the last, an Ork who has the precise grace of a professional soldier.

Don Seamus Padraig Malone, Luciano Cesare, and Colonel Regan.


"Tell me how bad it is." Malone says, coldly.

Regan shrugs. "Where the hell do I start? Okay. As a unit we're just about
okay. We've lost four wounded, two captured and one dead. Ten per cent
losses and twenty per cent casualties, but we're still combat effective.
We've got plenty of equipment and so far nobody's hit us at home."

"Good. Then go find who's fragging with me and kill them." Malone replies
at once.

"Not that easy, _jefe_." Regan responds. "I can take the boys after
Matsehori. But that puts us in the open. And whoever's after you, would
wipe us out. If that trideo show is right, we're in some deep drek."

"Oh, come on-" Cesare scoffs.

"No. Listen." Regan cuts him off. "Three, four years ago, Aztlan were
running a big black-op in Seattle, right? They had troubles so they brought
in muscle. A _full platoon_, at least, of Leopard Guard. Thirty-some stone
killers, they'd make my boys look like a Church sewing circle by
comparison. And BAM! One night the whole crew get smeared. InterPol
get two prisoners and pull two dozen corpses out of the ashes."

"Who the hell did that?" Cesare has gone pale. "Why didn't I hear about
it?"

"You didn't hear because it never happened. Black-ops are like that. Aztlan
and the UCAS just acted like nothing ever happened. Who did it? The
Agency."

"SIGA's gone." Malone shakes his head. "Just some wannabees hiding in
their shadow now."

"Yeah? Well, someone's using their tactics and their methods on us, and
making it look like the Agency, and hitting just as hard as SIGA would.
You tell me who. And if it _is_ the Agency, we're out of Seattle."

Malone goes red with rage. "Nobody tells me what to do!"

"I'm not telling you what to do, _jefe_. I'm saying, my boys can't fight the
Agency. You stay or go as you see fit, but you'll have to work Seattle
without us." Regan doesn't shrink from Malone's fury.


"Lucky? How bad are things here?" Malone puts his anger aside for a
moment, as he speaks to Cesare.

"Regan's right. It's open season on us. Matsehori's taken everything he
wants from us, and now that Korean scumbag Yu is muscling in on what's
left. Three places he's hit, we lost two and the cops are still all over the
third, our guys in custody and all the goods seized. We beefed up Stirfry
Leung's, and Yu's guys didn't touch it. The mystery men did... and we lost
everybody there, nine guys and four customers. The hookers split and we
lost Rocks looking for them."

"Cops?"

"Yeah, the cops." Cesare massages the bridge of his nose. "Tacoma PD are
'keen to resolve the case'. They put one of their best Homicide lieutenants
on it."

"Well, explain to the guy how urgent it is that the situation be resolved-"

"Lieutenant Julianne Hart is the case officer." Cesare expands. "Out of
hospital and back on duty."

There is a sickened pause.

"Get her off. Right now. How can she be on a case where she's got a
personal stake?"

"Boss, how do we explain to the cops that we killed her husband and tried
to kill her, so they have to transfer her off the case?" The Sicilian sighs.
"We made it look corporate and closed the door. We had nothing to do
with Andy Kryzdanovich's death. That's official. We _made_ it official. I
got no levers to pull."

"So kill the bitch. Get it right this time." Regan offers.

"Christ, no! Look, the cops here are bent, but this isn't Vegas!" Cesare
responds, obviously horrified. "Our trying to kill Hart is why they're sitting
back and letting us get waxed. Before, they'd help us. Now, they're telling
us to go frag ourselves. If we move on a cop again then Lone Star will lock
us down _hard_."

"How? They're only cops-" Regan begins.

"Look, Colonel, this is _my_ field. You can keep the cops off your back by
behaving, by greasing them a little, by persuading one or two to lose a
little evidence, maybe get forgetful, or turn a blind eye. But you torque
the force off enough, and all that goes away. You try to slip a cop a little
grease, he busts you for it. Evidence gets lost... but it's _your_ attorney
who's crying. When the cops close ranks, they can screw you over royally,
'cause they got the badges and we don't."

Malone pauses for thought. "Yeah. This isn't Vegas. Hell and damnation.
So the cops will screw us if they can. We can't fight the Yaks and the
Seoulpa and the cops and the Feds all at the same time. Where did
Matsehori get the muscle from?"

"Osaka." Regan replies. "Those guys are Osaka stone killers. Ninja vatjobs.
There for effect, 'cause if we try to fight them we could kill a couple, and
they'd hunt down every single Caballero for payback. They could do it, too,
unless we just run for our lives. We're outclassed. They won't be here
long... but we frag with Matsehori, those guys will be back fast. We got
given a message. We oughtta listen."

"You think it is the Feds?" Cesare asks. "Matsehori thinks, the Feds are
after us, that's why he can raise rather than fold?"

"I'm thinking, last year. We get ripped off hugely, a weeks' trading heisted
out of our own casino. Who pulled that number on us? We ID'ed four.
Harley. She ever work with the Feds?" Malone asks.

"She was pretty tight with the Lynches." Cesare says after a moment.

"'Kay. Then there's Easy and Mani. Easy killed Thunda, or _a_ Thunda.
Again, Fed links. Then we fingered Serpent, used to be Commander
Mitchell, as top man. I think that was an Agency hit."

"You're kidding, right?" Regan laughs, then suddenly stops. "Funding."

"Yeah. How long could they operate on what they stole from us?" Malone
asks.

"From what I know of SIGA... years. And they wouldn't use it all, just for
the black stuff they don't want Oversight to catch them at. Yeah. I can
see that." Regan frowns. "Damn, it's so obvious in hindsight..."

"So, the Agency steal from me. I go after Harley, then Easy. She and the
Yaks and Dona Minnie fight back and we lose our Puyallup base. Why push
the issue now, in Tacoma?" Malone asks.

"The Agency covering its ass." Regan suggests.

"No. Payback for Elliott." Cesare says.

"He messed with me and -"

"He did his job, Don Malone. He was an FBI agent assigned to our case.
We neutralised him, he teamed with Hart and made himself a nuisance,
we should have neutralised him again. Instead we killed him and seven
other Feds, and the Bureau won't let that go by." Cesare explains
patiently.

Regan shrugged. "I just do what I'm told, Lucky, the Don's the brains."

"Elliott was warned. So was the FBI. They ignored that and-"

Luciano Cesare cuts his employer off. "Don Malone, just because you have
wealth and influence doesn't mean you can piss in the FBI's face. I believe
the reason the Bureau have hardly responded, is because an Agency team
is dealing with us. On past form, that means we should get the hell out of
Seattle."

Malone bites back anger. Stops to think. "This hurts us. Can we get
another supply line from the Pacific to Vegas?"

"Piece of piss, Boss." Cesare replies calmly. "Plenty of ports. SanFran's
out
since we pissed off the Yaks, but LA or San Diego would work just fine.
Cost us money and time, but better to do that, than lose our access."

"Why the hell didn't you say so earlier?"

"I did. You said, we had to hold Seattle at all costs."

"Frag. Fuck. Shit. Damn!" Malone adds more expletives in several other
languages. "Okay, so, that was a mistake. We pull out. Salvage everything
we can and get the hell out of this town. The UCAS can whine all they like
once we're out of their territory. Let's make it happen."
+++++end transcript]<<<<<
-- Seamus P. Malone <11:47:43/01-15-61>
Message no. 5
From: Mach mach@****.caltech.edu
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Mon, 3 Jan 2000 00:02:34 -0800
*****PRIVATE: Buckley
>>>>>[Long time no interface, but I hope this is worth your wait.

First things first though, I know that this is a bit late, but part of
the delay was to make sure I had no more tracers sniffing at me and that
nobody would connect me and the info to you. The other part was because
_I_ always do a thorough job, and I wanted to get you everything I
could. Also, you aren't my only customer, and what with the holiday
rush and all.... Okay, a bit of it was my S/O gave me her sweetest
"take me to ######## for X-mas and I'll ^#$% your cybernetically
enhanced brains-out."

You get the picture: Been busy.

So, let's call any late penalty you may be thinking of equal to the
bonus fee for this job being a bit of a ball-breaker, and say we're even
when you cough up the original fee, which I believe we set at
>>ammount<<.

Now about them tracers.... _Somebody_ went through some trouble to
"erase" you. Looks like they had resources, but probably were more
interested in getting the job done fast than done right, so I did manage
to pick up a few data-strands here and there. My hounds also managed to
pick up a few tails that weren't standard equipment, shall we say. I
managed to get what data I could and double-check to "disinfect" it from
any digi-bugs. Only real trouble I had was probing "your" SIN. (Good
quality, but I doubt it's a real one. Who in the Shadows would have,
use, or even want a real one?) Some hot tracer IC on that. Luckily, I
had a friend w/me and we scragged the first screamer and were able to
punch the hell out before some of its N+1 buddies were able to sink
their photons into us.

Which is not to say I've got nothing. Lessee...for a taste: while
thumbing through some CAS APBs, I happened upon someone with your face.

+++++include Buckley?.pic

(That you? I think so. My machine thinks 98.4% probable, but time can
change a face.)

Attatched to it was that this person was wanted in connection with a
murder, possibly of magical execution (pun intended). That set off a
few bells and whistles. A few more because the files I dug up relating
to it look like some tapeworms had a real picnic. I managed to
unscramble a bit of the stuff that got chewed on, but chunks of it were
just erased. My guess, the worms got busy but were innoculated by the
CopNet deckers before they got done. The name: Thomas Anderson mean
anything to you? If I read between the garble, I think the guy may have
been an accomplice or associate. Dunno.

'Course if I was keeping up my membership to the Oliver Stone Memorial
Institute for Advanced Conspiratorial Theory, I'd suggest you may not be
the person in the photo, just a poor mindwiped sod with their face
nano-stitched or magiked on...but hey, you didn't pay me to wax
philosophical.

I've got more data, of course. However, there is that little matter of
payment. Authorize the cred transfer to >>account<<, I'll send you all
the files I collected, plus my in-depth analysis, all part of my usual
excellent service.

Oh yeah...Happy New Year, whomever you may be.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <23:53:15/01-02-61 PDT>
Message no. 6
From: Raije murk@****.org.au
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Tue, 4 Jan 2000 12:13:27 +1100
*****PRIVATE: NewzJunkie
>>>>>[The lateness of your reply is somewhat disgusting, I was getting
ready
to pack up and move interstate just in case you'd been fried. Be glad I
myself was somewhat busy, and that I'm not a corp, or else I'd have to pay
you twice for it.Ahh well, I guess I didn't exactly supply a deadline did I?

Yes, it was definately worth my wait though. Good work NJ, you're worth
every ¥ I spent. I'll keep you in mind for future jobs.

Thomas Anderson...nope, name doesn't ring any bells. I might get you to
check up on him sometime in the future though. Perhaps I could bounce some
ideas off you at some stage, if I ever figure any of this stuff out...

The outstanding balance has been credited to your account.]<<<<<
-- Buckley <12:06:25/01-04-61>
Message no. 7
From: Mach mach@****.caltech.edu
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Tue, 4 Jan 2000 00:11:20 -0800
*****PRIVATE: Buckley
>>>>>[Well Missy, you get what you pay for. Normally that amount of
effort would cost you quite a bit more from one of my competitors.
Frankly I think you will be plenty happy w/ the analysis (emphasis on
the anal part), and all but yeah if you don't know who you are, I guess
you might be in a bit of a hurry, holidays or no.

The account has been fattened nicely, so here's the data-dump.

+++++include: Buckley.file

All I could find on you, and a few threads I found on Mr. Anderson. It
isn't more than a cursory search on him, but it should provide somebody
(*hint*: me if you want another matrix search) with a decent starting
place. Good luck. Looks like you may need it.]<<<<<
-- NewzJunkie <00:10:30/01-03-61 PST>
Message no. 8
From: Paul J. Adam Shadowtk@********.demon.co.uk
Subject: Missing and yet in action
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2000 11:48:06 +0000
*****INTERNAL: Luciano Cesare
>>>>>[I'm coming to Seattle in the next few days. We need to close the
operation down properly, and pay a few debts.

You're a good _consigliore_, Lucky. I don't always remember it's your job
to give me bad news. I should think of that more often.


+++++begin recording.
A videoconferenced meeting. Three men. One, a balding, elderly Human:
the second, also Human, but a little younger and a lot better maintained:
the last, an Ork who has the precise grace of a professional soldier.

Don Seamus Padraig Malone, Luciano Cesare, and Colonel Regan.


"Tell me how bad it is." Malone says, coldly.

Regan shrugs. "Where the hell do I start? Okay. As a unit we're just about
okay. We've lost four wounded, two captured and one dead. Ten per cent
losses and twenty per cent casualties, but we're still combat effective.
We've got plenty of equipment and so far nobody's hit us at home."

"Good. Then go find who's fragging with me and kill them." Malone replies
at once.

"Not that easy, _jefe_." Regan responds. "I can take the boys after
Matsehori. But that puts us in the open. And whoever's after you, would
wipe us out. If that trideo show is right, we're in some deep drek."

"Oh, come on-" Cesare scoffs.

"No. Listen." Regan cuts him off. "Three, four years ago, Aztlan were
running a big black-op in Seattle, right? They had troubles so they brought
in muscle. A _full platoon_, at least, of Leopard Guard. Thirty-some stone
killers, they'd make my boys look like a Church sewing circle by
comparison. And BAM! One night the whole crew get smeared. InterPol
get two prisoners and pull two dozen corpses out of the ashes."

"Who the hell did that?" Cesare has gone pale. "Why didn't I hear about
it?"

"You didn't hear because it never happened. Black-ops are like that. Aztlan
and the UCAS just acted like nothing ever happened. Who did it? The
Agency."

"SIGA's gone." Malone shakes his head. "Just some wannabees hiding in
their shadow now."

"Yeah? Well, someone's using their tactics and their methods on us, and
making it look like the Agency, and hitting just as hard as SIGA would.
You tell me who. And if it _is_ the Agency, we're out of Seattle."

Malone goes red with rage. "Nobody tells me what to do!"

"I'm not telling you what to do, _jefe_. I'm saying, my boys can't fight the
Agency. You stay or go as you see fit, but you'll have to work Seattle
without us." Regan doesn't shrink from Malone's fury.


"Lucky? How bad are things here?" Malone puts his anger aside for a
moment, as he speaks to Cesare.

"Regan's right. It's open season on us. Matsehori's taken everything he
wants from us, and now that Korean scumbag Yu is muscling in on what's
left. Three places he's hit, we lost two and the cops are still all over the
third, our guys in custody and all the goods seized. We beefed up Stirfry
Leung's, and Yu's guys didn't touch it. The mystery men did... and we lost
everybody there, nine guys and four customers. The hookers split and we
lost Rocks looking for them."

"Cops?"

"Yeah, the cops." Cesare massages the bridge of his nose. "Tacoma PD are
'keen to resolve the case'. They put one of their best Homicide lieutenants
on it."

"Well, explain to the guy how urgent it is that the situation be resolved-"

"Lieutenant Julianne Hart is the case officer." Cesare expands. "Out of
hospital and back on duty."

There is a sickened pause.

"Get her off. Right now. How can she be on a case where she's got a
personal stake?"

"Boss, how do we explain to the cops that we killed her husband and tried
to kill her, so they have to transfer her off the case?" The Sicilian sighs.
"We made it look corporate and closed the door. We had nothing to do
with Andy Kryzdanovich's death. That's official. We _made_ it official. I
got no levers to pull."

"So kill the bitch. Get it right this time." Regan offers.

"Christ, no! Look, the cops here are bent, but this isn't Vegas!" Cesare
responds, obviously horrified. "Our trying to kill Hart is why they're sitting
back and letting us get waxed. Before, they'd help us. Now, they're telling
us to go frag ourselves. If we move on a cop again then Lone Star will lock
us down _hard_."

"How? They're only cops-" Regan begins.

"Look, Colonel, this is _my_ field. You can keep the cops off your back by
behaving, by greasing them a little, by persuading one or two to lose a
little evidence, maybe get forgetful, or turn a blind eye. But you torque
the force off enough, and all that goes away. You try to slip a cop a little
grease, he busts you for it. Evidence gets lost... but it's _your_ attorney
who's crying. When the cops close ranks, they can screw you over royally,
'cause they got the badges and we don't."

Malone pauses for thought. "Yeah. This isn't Vegas. Hell and damnation.
So the cops will screw us if they can. We can't fight the Yaks and the
Seoulpa and the cops and the Feds all at the same time. Where did
Matsehori get the muscle from?"

"Osaka." Regan replies. "Those guys are Osaka stone killers. Ninja vatjobs.
There for effect, 'cause if we try to fight them we could kill a couple, and
they'd hunt down every single Caballero for payback. They could do it, too,
unless we just run for our lives. We're outclassed. They won't be here
long... but we frag with Matsehori, those guys will be back fast. We got
given a message. We oughtta listen."

"You think it is the Feds?" Cesare asks. "Matsehori thinks, the Feds are
after us, that's why he can raise rather than fold?"

"I'm thinking, last year. We get ripped off hugely, a weeks' trading heisted
out of our own casino. Who pulled that number on us? We ID'ed four.
Harley. She ever work with the Feds?" Malone asks.

"She was pretty tight with the Lynches." Cesare says after a moment.

"'Kay. Then there's Easy and Mani. Easy killed Thunda, or _a_ Thunda.
Again, Fed links. Then we fingered Serpent, used to be Commander
Mitchell, as top man. I think that was an Agency hit."

"You're kidding, right?" Regan laughs, then suddenly stops. "Funding."

"Yeah. How long could they operate on what they stole from us?" Malone
asks.

"From what I know of SIGA... years. And they wouldn't use it all, just for
the black stuff they don't want Oversight to catch them at. Yeah. I can
see that." Regan frowns. "Damn, it's so obvious in hindsight..."

"So, the Agency steal from me. I go after Harley, then Easy. She and the
Yaks and Dona Minnie fight back and we lose our Puyallup base. Why push
the issue now, in Tacoma?" Malone asks.

"The Agency covering its ass." Regan suggests.

"No. Payback for Elliott." Cesare says.

"He messed with me and -"

"He did his job, Don Malone. He was an FBI agent assigned to our case.
We neutralised him, he teamed with Hart and made himself a nuisance,
we should have neutralised him again. Instead we killed him and seven
other Feds, and the Bureau won't let that go by." Cesare explains
patiently.

Regan shrugged. "I just do what I'm told, Lucky, the Don's the brains."

"Elliott was warned. So was the FBI. They ignored that and-"

Luciano Cesare cuts his employer off. "Don Malone, just because you have
wealth and influence doesn't mean you can piss in the FBI's face. I believe
the reason the Bureau have hardly responded, is because an Agency team
is dealing with us. On past form, that means we should get the hell out of
Seattle."

Malone bites back anger. Stops to think. "This hurts us. Can we get
another supply line from the Pacific to Vegas?"

"Piece of piss, Boss." Cesare replies calmly. "Plenty of ports. SanFran's
out
since we pissed off the Yaks, but LA or San Diego would work just fine.
Cost us money and time, but better to do that, than lose our access."

"Why the hell didn't you say so earlier?"

"I did. You said, we had to hold Seattle at all costs."

"Frag. Fuck. Shit. Damn!" Malone adds more expletives in several other
languages. "Okay, so, that was a mistake. We pull out. Salvage everything
we can and get the hell out of this town. The UCAS can whine all they like
once we're out of their territory. Let's make it happen."
+++++end transcript]<<<<<
-- Seamus P. Malone <11:47:43/01-15-61>

Further Reading

If you enjoyed reading about Missing and yet in action, 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.

Thwap!