Logs for ShadowRN and Associated Mailing Lists

From:	Frank Pelletier <jeanpell@****.IVIC.QC.CA>
Subject:	Nightlife
Date:	Tue, 17 Feb 1998 15:18:07 +0000

Message no. 1 *****Private: Cat-O-Nine
>>>>>[Job is done. Get me outta here.]<<<<<
-- Haze <23:55:12/02-17-59>

From:	Frank Pelletier <jeanpell@****.IVIC.QC.CA>
Subject:	Nightlife
Date:	Tue, 17 Feb 1998 15:16:24 +0000

Message no. 2 *****Internal: Review Footage Archive (Hit-115-A)
>>>>>[
+++++ Include Cybersenses recording (Merged)
+++++ Include Cybercomm tought track

There he is.

The glaring neon lights flashing overhead, the 200 bpm Jungle blasting through the
speakers, hundreds of bodies following the beat, in perfect harmony with
the synth line, the bass grooves. The rooms flashes red, blue, then fades
to violet, showering the sea of metahuman trippers with an atmospheric
glow. Fresh air is a scarce commodity, sweat pouring down the faces of
the ravers, heads bobbing endlessly to the pulsing tempo. A trid
sculpture hangs in mid-air, gaseous limbs hovering over the entranced
crowd, morphing into a mass of trembling, flailing arms, then turning into
itself, an oozing mass of primordeal essence, colors like oil on water,
everchanging.

Too tall, muthafucker. His head clearly visible on top of this human
mass. He's talking to someone, moving towards the back...The chill-out
room, probably...Goddamn, I love raves...

I make my way towards them. Warm, hot bodies pressing against me, eyes
almost turned inside, like so many dead corpses, kept alive by the
enthralling music. I try to keep my eyes on them. Dancers still trancing
around me, lights flashing, strobbing with the beat. I lose them. Then
they appear, still making their way to a blueish doorway. I elbow myself
past a couple of chipheads... Enough of this bullshit, or I'm gonna turn
this into a mosh pit...

I get to the edge of the crowd, further away from the throbbing bass.
Cool air strikes my face, chilling my sweat-drenched skin. An ambient
sound fills the air with an unmistakable feeling of peace. Past the
doorway, the loud, aggresive techno dies down. No more gyrating ravers,
loose bodies. The room is lined with mirrors, on all sides... a blue,
neon glow fills its walls. Dozens of bodies are lying on sofas, massive
pillows and plush carpeting. Most of them are in an advanced psychedelic
state, designer drugs and party poppers freely distributed. A feeling of
sexual liberation overcomes me. Then the cold, hard reality... I ain't
here for that.

I see him... He's in the far left of the room, chilling with the bitch
Cat told me about. Both of them... then I look around. About fifteen
other trippers. No witnesses he said. I check my suppresed MAC-20s, both
lying on my sides, safeties off. I calmly walk towards him... Federal
agent my fuckin' ass...he's a fuckin' dead fragger... didn't even see me
trailing him. Enough of this bullshit... Oh shit, he's makin' out with
the bitch... what a doif! Buh bye faer....

The blast breaks through the ambiance, the muzzle flash lighting up the
room. I fold on myself, spring back and flip behind a heavy sofa. The
pain flashes for a brief moment, near my midsection... blood seeps through
my clothing, pouring for a large wound on my right side.... Goddamn
muthafucking... Arghhhh... it dies down slowly, the compensator doing its
job. Shit is still holding the bitch, his gun drawn behind her head... He
knew...goddamn bitch knew... He quickly flipped the couch, and hid behind
it, the girl at his side. He fires a couple of round in my direction...
both miss, fluff filling the air. Another shot just misses my head.
Shit...Shit.

I jump over the the couch in one swift spring of my legs, both MACs aiming
the other sofa... He looks up, fires a couple of rounds... one misses,
the other hits me straight in my right shoulder. Too late. The twin SMGs
buck in my hands, cutting the couch in half, muzzle flash strobbing in the
blue light. The girl just starts to pull out a gun when the bullets mow
her down, blood spraying back on the mirrored wall. The elf is knocked
back, mirrors crashing, disintegrating in thoushands of shards. Bullets
rain down on them, casing falling on the floor in a deadly staccato,
sharply contrasting with the ambient organic sounds still filling the
room. I finally land in front of them... bodies mangled, still
clutching their guns. The elf still breathes with effort, eyes wide open,
pupils dilated. The bitch is sawed in half, her innards spreading on the
carpet in a dark, moist patch... My combat boots crush his hand, the gun
dropping to the floor... he manages to wince, still looking at me.

"Think I would die, hey fed? Ya should really keep up with the times,
muthafucker...I'm only gonna feel that afterwards...but you gonna feel it
right now... shit..."

I can't believe it...I look down... my side should hurt like hell, and my
shoulder shouldn't even be moving...and I just caught sight of a grazer on my left
knee. But I'm still up, and I don't feel shit. I should be dead. But
Man made me the way I am. Thank God for technology.

He still faces me with dignity, spitting blood as he breathes... Gotta
admire that... I raise my left MAC...

"Goodnight fed... and remember, Death was a blur, my friend."

The shower of lead hits him straight in the face, brain and skull hitting
the back mirror with force, his face fragmenting away under the impact.

I turn around. They're still there, oblivious to what was happening. A
couple of them took stray rounds, and are slowly dying on the floor. But
the rest seem to ignore everything... locked in their own worlds. Shit...
no witnesses... Oh and fuck...they didn't see shit, buncha trippy
netheads. No need for that tonight. I'm fuckin' tired.

I leave the room, dropping both MAC-20s behind. The neons still shine,
the lush music still playing. Scratch another one.

+++++closing Archive (Hit-115-A)]<<<<<
-- Haze <23:02:54/02-17-59>

From:	Avenger <Avenger@*******.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Nightlife
Date:	Tue, 17 Feb 1998 21:13:22 +0000

Message no. 3 *****PRIVATE: Haze
>>>>>[Make your way to >>encrypted<< We will extract
immediately.
Congratulations on a job well done. Are there any special requirements?
Injuries may complicate matters slightly, but we will assist.]<<<<<
-- Cat-o-nine <21:11:32/02-17-59>

*****PRIVATE: Santana
>>>>>[Haze has been successful. We are extracting him now. I will lay
out feelers to sweep the area and assess the success of his
employment.]<<<<<
-- Cat-o-nine <21:13:23/02-17-59>

From:	Frank Pelletier <jeanpell@****.IVIC.QC.CA>
Subject:	Re: Nightlife
Date:	Tue, 17 Feb 1998 21:54:17 +0000

Message no. 4 *****Private: Cat-O-Nine
>>>>>[Three gunshot wounds, all under control, under compensator level. I
will not be a burden, but I need to get out muthafuckin' quick. Some of
my homies in Portland talked to me...

I thought you were tight, you kept your muthafuckin' mouth shot. The
muthafuckers got ma homie Titan. They got my pad scoped up, the sorry
sonofabitchs... How did they know? Who did that shit? They hurt my homies.
Fuck bitch s'gonna die hard. Who did that? Who dat bitch in charge?

I lost goddamn everything! My deck, my gear, my pad, everything!
Muthfucking bitch pigs got all my STUFF! Who's the FUCKIN' BITCH
WHO DID THAT?... Goddamn... ALL MY GEAR! THEY GOT
EVERYTHING! WHO THE MUTHAFUCKER WHO DID THAT?
THE GODDAMN MUTHAFUCKIN' BITCH IS DEAD! THEY'RE ALL
DEAD! I'M GONNAFd"Sg- -00)_)00.....4324 <<signal
lost>>]<<<<<
-- Haze <00:23:12/02-18-59>

From:	Avenger <Avenger@*******.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Nightlife
Date:	Wed, 18 Feb 1998 03:41:59 +0000

Message no. 5 *****PRIVATE: Haze
>>>>>[We are working on your extraction now. A medic will be on station
at the location given to you previously to attend your wounds. You will
be back in Seattle by sunup.

We are not responsible for the situation that you have become aware of.
We are not responsible. This is an infraction of trust that my
organisation would never entertain.

May I suggest that if your companions have been compromised that it
would be unsafe for you to spend any time in the locale. I can arrange
for a safe house until you are healed. Meanwhile my people will run a
search to find out who and how they found your 'pad'. It would be
unfortunate if you were to suffer from further harm.

You have been a more than satisfactory employee, and we are inclined to
show our gratitude in more than simple payment. Allow us to assist you.
If we can finger the culprits responsible for the murder of your
associates we will happily share that information.

Your payment will be delivered by the pilot extracting you.

Calm yourself Haze. The blue package that was included with your
request will assist you. Please feel free to partake of the contents,
but only in moderation, they are rather potent. Say, no more than two
in a 12 hour period.

If a safe house will be agreeable, I will transmit the co-ordinates to
the pilot, and have you safely hidden while your wounds heal. I will
inform you of any information we are able to gather concerning the
recent attack on your associates.]<<<<<
-- Cat-o-nine <03:31:09/02-18-59>

*****PRIVATE: Santana
>>>>>[Haze is most certainly injured. I have authorised a medic to tend
his wounds, and will attempt to persuade him to rest in cover rather
than indulge in the vengeance he apparently seeks. His mission was 100%
successful, he actually killed the agent in the back section of the
night club, along with two other people. No witnesses, they were all
too blown on the "entertainment" provided by the club. Security reveals
him, but not in sufficient detail to manage a trace or identification.

What would you have me do concerning the attack against his compatriots.
We are aware that it was a reprisal action by a Federal Agency. Rumours
have it tagged to Lynch, but I may be able to redirect Haze's anger at
Achilles. It might be possible that in his rage, Haze will successfully
trim their numbers somewhat.]<<<<<
-- Cat-o-nine <03:35:44/02-18-59>

*****PRIVATE: Cat-o-nine
>>>>>[We do not feel that anything would be achieved by turning Haze
loose on Lynch. His anger will encourage mistakes. If he encounters
Lynch, he will be killed, and though that would be a satisfactory
situation I believe it would be a waste of his particular talents.
Again sending him against Achilles is also likely to be a mistake. They
may take him alive, in which case he could be turned against us. Though
he has only encountered you through employment, and cannot identify you,
he could introduce a glitch in a system that is working very
satisfactorily at this time.

Let me consider the situation, secure Haze, or release him, whichever he
insists upon, there are always more like him on the streets. I will
contact you later once Haze has made his decision.]<<<<<
-- Santana <03:39:01/02-18-59>

From:	Frank Pelletier <jeanpell@****.IVIC.QC.CA>
Subject:	Re: Nightlife
Date:	Wed, 18 Feb 1998 15:19:48 +0000

Message no. 6 *****Private: Cat-O-Nine
>>>>>[Safe House... Safe House... okay, okay... Safe house.

I want one thing. I never questioned your motives, and I did whatever ops
you wanted me to do. No questions asked, never. You appreciate that, I
gather. One thing. One.

All the money I made with you, you can have it. Here.

+++++transfer <ludicrous amount> nuyen

All I want in return is this.

+++++include Gear.list

And a name. One name. No clues, no whereabouts. Nothing. I only want
his name. I won't strike now. I promise. You still need me. I won't.
Until you're done with me. Then it's off your hands. One name. That's
all I want. All.

Who?]<<<<<
-- Haze <14:52:45/02-18-59>

From:	Avenger <Avenger@*******.DEMON.CO.UK>
Subject:	Re: Nightlife
Date:	Wed, 18 Feb 1998 22:29:13 +0000

Message no. 7 *****PRIVATE: Haze
>>>>>[You have earned the money Haze. It is yours. You will need it if
you are to face the enemy you so desperately seek.

The equipment you require will be made available for you within four
days. It will take time to gather some of it, specifically the HVAR. I
have removed the amount necessary from your money to secure some of the
more exotic goods you require. The HVAR will come from an untraceable
shipment out of New Orleans, and will thus be safe.

A name. <sigh>

I have asked people to research the subject, and to do so with utmost
caution. But as it transpires, my caution was unnecessary. The person
responsible for the attack on your friends has not made it a secret. It
is knowledge available for little trouble.

I do not think that you will like the name. For it is one that carries
with it much responsibility and not a little fear.

The name you are so desperate for is 1st Lieutenant Jason Running Wolf
Lynch.

+++++Include file: >>Lynch.dat<<

It would be a mistake for you to pursue this person, but if you feel
that your responsibilities to your companions demands it, then we
release you of any further obligation. Already you have excelled in our
service, we would not seek to prevent you from mourning your lost.

We would however prefer that you avoided contact with this individual,
he has proved a dangerous adversary in the past to many others, none
have survived the meeting. He is employed by a company known as SIGA. A
Federal Intelligence Gathering Agency. Lynch and his wife Lillith (also
an extremely dangerous opponent, and reputedly a Lycanthrope) work for
this company. They also have been known to work with the FBI, another
agency I note that is searching for you. He is currently on detachment
to an FBI special operations squad known as Achilles. I have no further
information available concerning Achilles, but rumours abound that they
are an elite anti terrorist task force.

It is of course your decision how you will deal with this situation, but
I would advise extreme caution, even to the point of non-involvement. I
am aware of only a very few individuals who are capable of taking on
these people, and none of them would do so willingly.

Heal yourself, rest, consider your options and await the delivery of
your requested equipment. Then, do as you will. I at least will mourn
you should you fail.]<<<<<
-- Cat-o-nine <22:17:31/02-18-59>

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