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[BornKrazi]

The rain was pouring down as usual on this spring night.  What a drag for a Sunday.  Fuzzy thought the night would be full of football and tossin back a few cold ones.  But his night, and perhaps his life was forever changed when the LED being to flash on his cell.  He viewed the caller id and made a hard swallow as a bead of sweat begin to drip down his face.

Hoy Chum...

I understand.  I'll take care of it.

He immediately jumped up and raced to his posh little office in what was suppose to be a spare bedroom.  He unlocked his safe and pulled out his pocket secretary.  He thumbed through the list of names making a few brief notes to himself.  He picked up his cell and made a few arrangements at Matchstick's.  Something about that place made him feel more comfortable when organizing business.

He took a moment and headed to the restroom washing his face off and composing himself.  He looked into the mirror and wondered just how much longer he would have to answer to him.  What had he done, how could he had gotten himself into such trouble.  The anger grew a little but he dismissed it.  He dressed himself in his "business" atire, his bagging jeans, plain white tee, armored vest, and of course his signature oversized hoodie.  He reached back into his safe and loaded his Ares Predator and placed it in the small of his back.  Hopefully he wouldn't need this, but you never know in this business.

He headed out the door while punching in Patch's number in his cell.

I hope he's not busy... He wondered as the phone begin to ring.

[kv]

Patch wasn't busy. The rain was playing hell with his stolen cable, and so he was trying to judge by how heavy the rain was by watching newsfeeds and paying attention to fade patterns.

He had a soy beer in one hand, sitting on the only chair in the apartment, the rest of it having been stripped bare to keep wires, bugs, and other devices to a minimum. Patch's stuff stood in a pile in the corner of the main room. Aside from sealing up the windows in the other rooms, he had left them alone, after he had cleared them of bugs and set up the white noise generator.

He was thinking of switching to another station and seeing if anything was on when his cell phone lit up. It was Fuzzy- not the best fixer, but a low level mover and shaker. It was probably about work, and Patch was getting a little stir crazy stuck in this box.

"Hey Fuzz. What's up, omae?"

As he spoke, Patch stood and moved over to the window, checking the street outside for any traffic at all- any "phone companies " out doing repairs tonight were probably in the surveillance business. And only a moron would be out walking in this downpour.

[BornKrazi]

Sunday - 15:37

Fuzzy bobs and weaves through traffic tryin to get all the preperations complete when Patch answers.

"Hoi chum.  I'm in need of your services, feel up to a little get together down at Matchstick's?  Say around 9 o'clock?"  Fuzzy pulls into the busted down apartment complex and hastely makes his way to the top floor to retrieve the drop which fully explains what needs to be done.

[kv]

Sunday 15:37

Patch glances up to the readout in his field of view. "About five hours? Sounds fine to me. What table are we meeting at, and who are we meeting? Do you know this chummer?"

Flipping open his PDA, Patch makes notes about where he's going and who he's meeting with, re-locks it with the encryption, and hides it in a hole in the wall under the sink. If he dissappears, people will need to know who was responsible.

[BornKrazi]

Sunday 15:38

Fuzzy's just about to the top of the stairs.

"Meet in that same corner both as usual.  I'm gonna call a couple other quality people as well. See you then." The phone is disconnected after that.

Fuzzy reaches the top floor of the apartment complex and walks down the decaying hallway to room 1103.  He carefully pushes it open while grabbing for his Predator.

It's all clear.  He moves in and quickly reaches the kitchen sink.  He sticks his hand down the drain and produces a small script of paper.  He scans the area and finds the turned over sofa.  Pulling away the cushions he finds the briefcase.  He enters the code from the paper and the case clicks open.  He suffles through the paperwork quickly understanding just what needs to be done and to who.  He pockets the credsticks and sticks the papers back in the briefcase and heads back to his car as he punches in Ark's phone number in his cell.

This outta be good for him... he thinks to himself as the phone begins to ring.

[kv]

Patch

Patch punches another number into his phone after Fuzzy hangs up, dialing Matchsticks to confirm the reservation of the table, and to see who had made the reservation. If it was Fuzzy's deal, he would make the table. If it was the Johnson's deal, well... then it was time to be extra cautious.

"You'd think with the number of times I've called, they would start remembering me,[/color]" Patch said, mostly to himself. It seemed like every time he called, he was speaking to someone new. Matchsticks apparently had an incredibly high employee turnover, which meant that they were safe. People either were too new to know what was going on, or already out the door. While he was listening to the automated message and waiting for someone to pick up, he thumbed open his own briefcase, sorting through the items inside to prepare for the nights events.

His white noise generator was worthless- not only would it not be useable, but Matchsticks was a good meet place because it wasn't necessary. Ambient noise would take care of any laser microphones or long-range listening devices.

For short range devices, he had another toy. He pulled out the bug scanner, thumbing it on, and checking the power supply and settings. He needed time before the meet to scan the area, but be would have it on the entire meet, just in case someone throught to bug the waitress, which he had heard of happening before.

He brought out the certified credstick, the one Mr. Johnson could transfer funds to without too much problem. Unless he tried to trace the funds- then he would run into problems.

He brought out the small datapad, for storing his own copy of the information Mr. Johnson would pass off to them.

Last of all, he pulled the gun out of the hidden compartment at the bottom of the case, weighing it in his hands as he weighed it's usefulness tonight in his mind.

[BornKrazi]

Sunday - 15:38

"Thank you for calling Matchstick's Erica speaking..." a young but professional voiced answered.

"Yes sir, a Mr. Fuzzy has reserved table 23 at 8:30 this evening.  Anything else I can help you with?"

[Curris]

Sunday 15:38

"Ark", as he was known to a few select individuals, was sitting on his wheeled office chair, alternately thumbing through a tattered second-hand book, and glancing at the readout from vidscreen plugged discreetly into a cyberdeck resting on his desk. Most of the pages in the book were faded and yellowed, and the old script filled all of them, seemingly without margins. The text was broken only by an illustration; an asymetrical psuedo-geometric array adorned with strange symbols. The same illustration was on the computer readout. Nodding to himself before looking down again, Ark failed to notice the blue flashes to his right.

His desk itself sat in the lower area of a bunkbad, the bed on top unmade, but the room was otherwise tidy. Just inside the door stood Jack, the Saguaro cactus houseplant, currently employed as a coatrack. Outside his bedroom door, the rest of his apartment was cozily furnished, a few chairs along the wall, near the entertainment center leaving space for the two-person table in the kitchenette.

The strobing blinking wash of a blue LED flashed again, and this time it caught Ark's attention from the corner of his eye. Staring at the muted cellphone for a moment with the slightly dazed look of the truly absorbed, he quickly pulled a bookmark from his desk and kept his page while grabbing the phone. He thumbed the connect key and put the phone to his head. "Yeah, hello?" Ark says as he straightens up in his seat.

[kv]

Sunday - 15:38

"Thank you, Erica. I was wondering if that table could be clear for guests to start arriving around 8pm. And I was hoping that it would be acceptable for Mr. Fuzzy's security detail to check out the arrangments about ten minutes before that.[/b]"

With a silent sigh that Erica wouldn't hear, Patch sets the gun on the table, out of his eyeline as he makes other preparations for tonight. he would decide before he left if he would need a gun tonight.

[BornKrazi]

Sunday - 15:39

"Hoi Ark, I'm curious if you'd be interested in a little business?  Perhaps you can meet me at Matchstick's say around 9 o'clock tonight?" Fuzzy sits in the car for a second watching the rain run down his windshield only for it to be wiped away by the wiper blades.  He then backs out and heads to his next destination, his second apartment.  That way he could study the information better in a surrounding he doesn't have to constantly look over his shoulder.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't see why that would be a problem sir.  Mr. Fuzzy is a regular here and always insists on the same table.  If you'd like to come early that's fine too.  Sir you do realize we at Matchstick's pride ourselves on providing a moderate level of security to all our distinguished guests." Erica shrugs to herself.  She was just a waitress who made decent money waiting on people such as Fuzzy.  She probably has a good idea why so many different people come and visit him, and knows to keep her mouth shut.

[kv]

Sunday - 15:39

"Thank you, Erica, but it never hurts to be a little extra cautious. I'll be there around 7:45, so I can prep the table."

That done, Patch thumbs off the call and moves to change clothes- layers and layers of armor. There wouldn't be any dancing tonight, but he would need to look like he was to blend in.

[Curris]

Sunday 15:39

"Interested in a little business, eh?" Ark repeated, his English clear but still thickly accented. Ark cycles the phone to speaker mode and sets it on the desk as he stands and runs a hand through his hair. Ark lets his eyes roam over the desk until they rest on the small corner drawer. Inside, the small stack of bills was accumulating. Next to the envelopes was the rejection letter from the corp he applied to. And Hao hadn't called lately either. . . "Yeah, some business could be good. I'll be there. Same place as before, yes?"

With a short whistle he starts packing up, replacing his book back on his shelf, shutting down the vidwindow and unplugging the deck. This he places in a small nylon backpack, before he pulls a coat on, feeling the jingle of his keys in the pocket.  "Why you only call on rainy nights, Fuzzy?" Ark jokes.

[BornKrazi]

Sunday - 15:39

"Cuz it always rains in Seattle!" chuckling to himself at the much needed humor.  "Yes same place as before, see you around 9."  Fuzzy drives over to his second apartment.  After his usual routine of ensuring safety he enters.  It smells like mold and theres a layer of dust on everything.  But at least it wasn't in the Barrens.  He sits down and studies the information for awhile.  Once he has a good grasp on what exactly needs to be done and how, he thinks to himself for a moment.  "Business" from this guy is something that will be done or Fuzzy can count on floatin face down in Pugent Sound.  After careful consideration he decides who he'll need next.  He makes a quick drink to help relax his nerves and glazes at his cell phone.  He begins to punch the number in for a usual chum he uses, but decides against it.  This guy's lips can be a bit loose, and this he could not allow. I need a woman's touch, someone who can help get inside the mind of this fraggin slitch!

Sunday - 16:27

He dials up Starhiker's number...

[AJStarhiker]

I'm backstage, helping my sister haul her drumset out of the trucks.  Her band's been touring past couple months and I'm looking forward to catching up with her.

My cell goes off and I move away from the truck to answer it.

"Hello?"

[BornKrazi]

Sunday - 16:27

"Hoi Starhiker, I'm in need of your services.  Think you can meet me at 9 o'clock at Matchstick's?"  Fuzzy takes another sip of his drink and leans back in his chair some watching the rain outside his window.