At this hour, the Space Needle is pretty quiet. The trees are largely bare. There's a small parking lot just under the space needle, with only a pair of sedans parked overnight. There's some sort of squiggly ... I guess it's modern art? A sculpture? Man, Seattle is weird. Pretty sure it's a sculpture. You're probably not sure how you feel about it, except insofar that it is extremely squiggly. Probably the meaning of life (is to be squiggly). There's some like... purple bushes. And a hot dog vendor, ringing his little bells. Okay, that's enough description, let's go.

You guys can decide if you're arriving before or after, and where you're positioning yourselves. I had a map, but I seem to have lost it, so here's what it looks like:


.. (cars)   O (space needle)
    , (hotdog salesman)

      & (squiggle sculpture, per google maps).

Carver piles out of the truck, muttering to himself in Filipino and dusting off the herpes of art supplies from his jacket, pants and hair. He wanders in a spiral, leaving a pixie-scat trail behind him.

   // - the truck, parked poorly
  @ -Carver, muttering
..  O
    ,

      &

Snow exits the truck and heads over to the hot dog vendor to buy a hot dog for himself and tell the guy that he might want to get out of dodge.

"anyone else want one, or 6?"  the addendum was directed at St. V.

St. V nods to Snow eagerly, unable to pass up the opportunity to get a few free hot dogs.  He then makes sure all of his weapons are secure and his smartlinks are ready, then heads over to the sedans to see if they are empty.  And if so, to see if they might provide some good cover if things go sour.  He takes a couple practice aims at various locations with his Ingram Valiant, not even bothering to keep it concealed.  "Make sure you get his info, Pants!" he calls out to Snow.  "You know, in case we want more hot dogs later.  Then we'll know how to find him."  More importantly, (debatably) it would probably keep the guy from deciding to contact any authorities.

The hot dog guy doesn't even look up from his paper.

"On break."

Deciding that it's been a surprisingly long time since she's had anything to eat, Firefox places a finger in the middle of the man's paper and burns a small hole through it.  The small hole rapidly expands into a large hole.  Once she can clearly see the man's face, she gives him her most winning smile.  "Off break?"

Carver is going to closely examine the man and the cars to see if they are, are compused of, or are surrounded by Dropbear Commandoes.
5,3,1,3,(6+2)8,4

"Bah."

The fellow pulls out a bun, opens the wagon, reaches in and retrieves a dog, which he places on the bun.

Carver, with his keen sight, realizes that the hot dog is in fact a disguised drop bear!! Albeit, one who is more than a little nervous at this sudden turn of events.

"Whatyoo want? Ketchup? Mustard? Chili? Onions?"

Carver taps FF in the upper hip "Careful, red. That dog's got bite."
Carver subvocalizes into his radio "Looks like the pyramids have a few of their own boys around here. Expect things to get messy."

As the group is purchasing tactical resources such as hot dogs, a black limousine pulls up on the far side of the parking lot. The engine idles. To the south side of the lot, a combat helicopter lands, the backblast whipping at your clothes and such. The helicopter touches down and the rotors slow down. Then the cockpit opens, and a man climbs out, dressed all in the blackest black that ever did black, carrying two swords and a submachine gun, half of his face covered with cyber.

While taking his place, there's an explosion to the north side of the lot, and a motorcycle jumps over it and lands, and a tall elf dismounts. He's wearing clothes even blacker than the last guy, and also carries a sword, a pair of handguns, and what appear to be a bandolier of C4 primers.

The doors open on the limo, and three big, hulking, elf body guards climb out, wearing black suits and black shades. Owing to the black shades, they have to look around a few times to see anything here, in the middle of the night. It only takes a moment to realize they're all packing.

And finally, out steps Fortuna, carrying with him a briefcase. He smiles as he sees the group.

"Oh, hey! Driver, why did you park on this side of the parking lot? My friends are over there. Yoo-hoo! I'm over here. I'm coming over to talk about those damned drop bears and their plans for global dominance."

Firefox looked at the chopper and found herself wishing she'd invested a few karma points in Piloting(Rotorcraft).  Flying that thing would have been fun.  She supposed she'd have to make due with stealing the bike.  Limos were just too darn hard to park and were graffiti magnets.  Plus the bandolier sort of reminded her of a past teammate.

Firefox waved at the Johnson and gestured to her hot dog.  "Want one?  They're yummy!", then proceeded to apply the fixings to her own meal, careful to avoid getting horseradish in the poor critter's eyes.

St. Velveteen stands silently between the two parked cars, leaning against one with his big gun resting on one shoulder, playing it cool.  He would let the others do the talking.  In the meantime he would keep an eye on Mr. Chopper and the sunglass kids.  He grins at the guy with the two swords, gun, and cyber enhancements.  He reminded St. V of a punier, less-sexy version of himself.

Carver's lenses slide into place with a 'snikt'; he grimaces to keep the grit out of his teeth. His hands stay clear of his holsters, preferring to hold out the hat at arm's length. "You've been such a great Johnson, the boys and I scraped a little cash together and got you this, on account of how likeable you are."
Meanwhile he readies his off-hand hotdog for a flinging, on the off chance that his meat-derivative-product-inna-bun is also a cleverly disguised paranimal infiltrator.

Snow goes to take a bite out of his hot dog only to end up with a mouthful of bun, onion and relish.  His attention is squarely on the Johnson and his hand is millimeters away from his weapon.

"Ah, no, I don't eat umm.... whatever that is. So you have data for me? Excellent. I could use some good news. Those... damned bears, they ruined my summer house. Just destroyed it. Stole my classical VHS cassette collection too. Well then, let's wrap up payment and be on our way, shall we? I'm a bit short on cash at the moment, after having to pay so much for Batman and Dom there, but I have these excellent BTLs... I'm sure you'll enjoy..."

F approaches the group, chatting all the way, apparently at ease. He stops perhaps twenty feet from the group.

"Well? Where is it? Where's the data chip?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:54, Mon 12 Jan 2015.