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[Ruski]

Ruski Looked over his protage' with a bit of suprise. normally it was KV who was calling him up; looking for help. Someone needed a cellphone tracked down; or someone else needed an ID card faked...  Always little footwork stuff that people were too buisy to do themselves. KV had come a long way from the near-otaku level shy kid to the guy wearing a ruffeled but stylish suit from JC Penneys and Killer-Loop sun/eye-glasses standing in front of him.

Ruski gave another smile to the clerk, forgetting too late the whole 'bloody teeth' visual that displayed.

grabbing the caffenated goodness from the counter Ruski moved to follow KV out the front of the stuffer-shack door.

It was still un-opened; but he had a feeling that this soda; could be the only good thing to happen to him all day long.

[kv]

Kid slung Ruski's arm over his back, and half walked him, half dragged him home.

As he put the key in the locked gate outside the apartment building, he realized something. This would probably seriously mess up his life. The other tenants, the manager, maybe even that shack employee. They could all point the finger at him.

The thought lasted for as long as it took to push the old-fashioned key into the lock.

His friend was hurt, and he had some calls to make.

[Ruski]

Someone's got it out for me in a bad way Kid.
I've run into patrolls before, this was matrix crime devision looking for me.

I've got a lead though.  Lutenant  James McKathy with Loan-Star's Cyberneticic Restraint Devision. Plates on the car were:  EJ-45NT.
Ruski Laughs at this. he can't hear himself laugh, but he feels the pain that the broken ribs are given him because of it.
Gotta love the cerebrial booster. helps you remember everything.

It's gotta be him. or at least his car. find out what case he's working on. and if you can find out if it was him in the car tonight that'd be good to...

Ruski isn't sure how much of his words are making sense. it's amazing how hard it is to talk with broken ribs, let alone with broken ribs, and not being able to hear yourself...

[kv]

Ruski was mumbling something next to him... it was hard to make out with the sputtering breathing, the coughing, and the ... laughter?

Everyone who he called had the same reaction. The look on MFI's face was priceless.

"You're still alive?"

With Ruski next to him, he lined up what he needed- a clean car, a safehouse, and a street doc. Dr. Fingers would work... well, not great, but fine.

Twenty minutes later, the car was in front of the house, a black Ford Americar, and when the driver got out, he changed the plates before tossing Kid the keys. If Ruski was still conscious, he would probably crack a joke about the time Kid trashed that car on accident, driving into the lightpost during a run. Ruski always had something funny to say.

He laid the semi-conscious runner out on the back seat, and drove to the safehouse. Even before he got there, he remembered the place. There was a runner... Chopper, who moved to CalFree. It was his old place.

Kid pushed open the door with his foot, supporting Ruski's weight. Good, no other runners were squatting here at the time. It was always hell trying to convince runners on the job that you weren't from whatever corp they had just hit. Like tap dancing in a minefield, walking into a safehouse that was already taken.

He helped Ruski sit down on the couch, and looked in the fridge to see if there was anything to drink. Nothing.

He checked on Ruski, who was sputtering something... something that finally made sense. "James McKathy" was all he could make out, but that was all that he needed. Kid and most other deckers in the Seattle area knew who McKathy was- they called him "The Bulldog," someone who never let go of a lead, even if it was wrong.

If he was after Ruski, this was more dangerous than Kid had first been led to believe.

[Ruski]

Ruski woke up.
He wasn't sure what exact time it was. He wasn't even really sure where he was. Glancing arround he wasn't in a trash strewen alleyway. he couldn't count the number of times he spent the night in a dumpster. running from the cops always seemed to end in that.
there weren't bars and angry men with guns asking him questions immediatly either. that was pretty much the worst way to wake up, so he wasn't as bad off as he'd been in the past.
...
Hmm... all bandaged up. and what's that... the smell of 'midnight hobo' on the wrappings. Only one streetdoc used that particular brand of cheap booze as disenfectant. Fingers.

Moving slightly Ruski checked himself.
Ouch. Okay... left arm is in a sling... no cast. must just be a bad sprain... face is covered with bandages... oh yea. the windshield. glass hurts. moreso if you land on it too...
Ruski whinced as he tryed to sit up... the ribs. oh yea. thoes were broken. there was some sort of cast/brace thing with laces holding everything tight... made it tough to breathe... but breathing with broken ribs was never a easy task in the firstplace...
then he realised it... sound. he could hear again.
there wasn't much going on in the small room he was in. there were some outdated calanders on the walls, featuring biker chicks, and the arch-typical broken tri-d with a pirated connection pushing out static in the corner.
well, that just wouldn't do.
sitting up took longer than he'd like to admit. the vertigo almost caused him to black out then and just lay back down. but laying down was never a good way to get anything done.
okay. sitting up. breath... ouch... not so fast... slow and steady wins the race...
okay... let yourself down off the couch... that's good... walk...er... how about crawl... one handed, remember that left one is out of commission... over to the Tri-D... hmm... someone was actually hacking two lines here. they split the audio from the neighbor's flat, and grabbed the sequencing for the image on the primary. cute.
wireing was a little sloppy though. there was some crossover there, that'd pick up quite a bit of static... and they didn't reverse the Content-chip on the Tri-D. most people didnt' know that you could turn parental controlls into a re-sequencer if you just clipped two of the legs and turned it arround backwards... worked most of the time anyways...

taking his time with the Tri-D, ruski finished tuning up the connection and flipped on the news.
No remote. going to have to sit here next to the thing and manually change the channel.
oh well, there were worse things in life.

"Good afternoon! The weather channel would like you to know that it's bright and shiney... in cal-free... however, seattle should expect light showers for most of<Click>"Last night a group of un-identified individuals robbed a stuffer-shack at bazooka-point..."<Click>"Officers involved in the crash were last listed as 'stable' condition. no news yet as to why the individuals were breaking into the back of a stuffer shack, but even while that information is still coming in the identys are still as yet unknown. "
Finally. some good news. Guess that kid behind the counter really did cover my tracks good. Mental note... get him something nice... wait... didn't I get him a raise already?
*chuckle*
One good turn deserves another...

[kv]

Kid came back through the door, suprised to see Ruski up (and watching trid, no less.)

He drops a bag full of pill bottles on the counter, and unloads himself from a bunch of groceries. Nothing fancy, just your standard soy and krill-brand fare. Suddenly jumping back into the shadows could make you wonder where your next meal was coming from, so he had bought light. Oddly enough, he had also gotten them from a nearby stuffer shack.

The almost irony brought a smile to Kid's face as he loaded up the fridge with foodstuffs and drinks. Once that was done, he came over to where his mentor was watching TV.

"How are you feeling?"

[Ruski]

"Kid! Good to see a friendly face! what brings you back to the biz? How long have I been out? what's the word on the street? the Tri-D here says that I'm as yet un-identified, But there's someone out there that's got all sorts of wants and desires for my worthless hoop.

I was hit by a  patroll, matrix crime devision; Dunno if they just stumbled on me, or had been following and I didn't notice.

I've got a lead though.  Lutenant  James McKathy with Loan-Star's Cyberneticic Restraint Devision. Plates on the car were:  EJ-45NT. So him, or someone in his car was trying to track me down... I probibly couldn't hack a juce box right now, but if you can get into loan-star, and see who took his car out, and then check that person's case-load, perhaps we can divert their attention to the other cases... you know, solve a couple of them, and let them drop ours... it's worked before..."

Ruski stops talking as he sees the armload of food that Kid is bringing in.

"Hmm... got good eats?"

[kv]

Kid looks over the groceries with a laugh. "No, just stuff from the stuffer shack." He sets what remains of the bags down on the table, and reaches into one bag. "I did find your favorite, though," and pulls out a blue Jolt Cola bottle.

Kid moves across the room to hands it to Ruski, glancing over his bandages to see how they're holding up. "I took you to a street doc- I hope you don't mind. I know you probably have money stashed away somewhere, but I've been working as a schoolteacher, so I don't have the padded account that I used to."

Kid double-checks the bandages, probably making sure that Fingers didn't accidently leave any special 'goodies' in the wrappings, as he is sometimes known to do.

Once he's satisfied with his inspection, he takes what's left of the chair across from Ruski and sits gingerly. "I was actually out of the life... after that whole thing with Riffalian and Blaine, I kinda dissappeared from the Shadow world. I forged some credentials, and I started working as a matrix teacher at Sammy Davis the III Public School."

As if suddenly remembering something, he gets up and goes back to the bag, and pulls his cyberdeck out. It hasn't seen use in some time, but a Fairlight Excaliber is nothing to be scorned. He sets it down near the trideo, and sets up a jackpoint. "I went and got this out of the safe deposit box I had set up... I didn't think I'd ever use it again. I guess we can look around and see if we can make things slightly more difficult for Lt. McKathy."

[Ruski]

"Ohh... the blue flavor. you know me too well Kid." popping the top with his one good hand Ruski takes a swig and baskes in the refreshing tingle that only caffeen can bring.

"I appriceate the assist. I'll help you stay out of the life once I've healed up enough that I can deck without going crosseyed and dizzy. I've got a cold million I can give you straight out if you need to go someplace. Being a contact on the other side of the shadow world and tracking down Lat-Long on people's cellphones has been a good buisness for me. "

Ruski drops a line from his datajack to the hitcher point on the cyberdeck

<You still remember the LTG address for Loan-Star?>

[kv]

Kid looks up to the corner of his eye, accessing his headware memory.

"Yeah, I have it. You sure you feel up to hitching?"

"I can sit on my thumb in the digital world just as good as I can here in the flesh... perhaps better... the RAS over-ride seems to disconnect some of the pain of physical, and lord knows I could use that. Don't worry, I won't back-seat-hack you. "

Kid makes himself more comfortable, removes the cosmetic cover of his datajack, and plugs the cable in.

Login:

[Ruski]

Ruski watched as KidVid logged onto the matrix, slowly at first, and then with a burst of speed as he remembered the how and why of getting arround the Trix.

Logging into Lone-Star was no small feat for cutting edge deckers. they had a whole team of guys just arround to stop such things from happening.

<Want to use Lutenant  James McKathy's sign on? They changed their format, the login names are Last, First two letters, and rank abriviation now. it might speed up the search and give us access to the right stuff if we start there.>

Kidvid started up his verification program, dumping the matrix library of encrypted passcodes into the login name. McKathyJALt brute force would certanly send up some red flags, but it worked good enough on quick and dirty runs.
Password Accepted:"RaceCarRally3, welcome to Internet Crime Devision's matrixpage. it's been 12.4 minutes sence your last logon. what would you like to do?"

[kv]

Kid thought for a moment, and then reached out and dumped the cache from Lt. McKathy's last visit, downloading the paydata from 'Recent Cases' and 'New Information/Leads' to his deck. He glanced at the generic icon next to him, wondering if Ruski was thinking of anything else they would need from here before logging off.

[Ruski]

Nah, that's a good enough place to start.

[kv]

Kid quickly dumped the cache he had just copied, then started a worm virus what would frag the server in fifteen minutes, faking an intrusion and crashing the server.

"Well, that should keep them busy. I'm going to make something to eat, so you can stay here and sort through the paydata. Whatever we don't use, we can post to Shadowland- I'm pretty sure my credit there has run out, and if you're getting me back into this life, I'm sure I'm going to need it."

Kid walks to what's left of the kitchen, looking over the trashed culinary implements. He finally settles down, trying to fix the rice cooker and the soy processing unit.

[Ruski]

"Don't worry about shadowland. You can live off of my account untill you get your feet under you. I owe you more than that, but it's a good place to start."

looking through the paydata on the screen Ruski hits the only interesting entry.

"Listen to this: He was actually off duty on the night his car was tracking me down. he was working on a number of projects, nothing that I've been involved in really... I had a little bit to do with the McMaster's case. but I just helped Brain-Freeze with the satalite hack. once he was in, that was all him tripping every warning system that aztechnology has on their data-server. I never did ask what data he was getting out of there. he didn't post any of it to shadowland. So, either he's working on me durring his free time, someone stole his car, or my guess: someone else is interested in me, and is paying him under the table to do some running of his own. I guess the only way to tell is to go visit his house. it has to be him, he wound up in the hospital after the crash, that was on the news. I don't think they'd bother to fake that. so, we gotta find out who's paying him to do reasearch in his spare time. I wonder what sort of security connection he's running? can you think of anyone else we should bring in for this?"