"Imported bottled water, and imported crew," Augusto said. "They all know what's what. Vampires, the Fugue, the whole deal. Keeps 'em from getting stupid."

He drained his glass, and poured another. He slid the bottle to Liam. "So is this a social call to let me know you're in town, or were you looking to acquire?"

"Bit of both," Liam said, reaching for the bottle and pouring out a second, healthy glass. "The first firecracker I set off didn't belong to you," Liam said, taking a puff on his cigarette.

"Cams found my safehouse in Riverhead while I was gone. Turned the key in the lock for the first time in ten years and *boom*. Everything's gone up in flames. Myself included," he said, patting his chest and blowing smoke.

"Going to need to replace my kit if I plan to keep sticking it to Redwatch."

"But the city also changed while I've been away, which I suppose shouldn't come as a surprise. I'm calling on old acquaintances - trying to figure out the lay of the land."

"I understand Redwatch has all but ceded the docks to you," he said, gesturing with his cigarette. Liam took a sip from his glass.

"Well of course they have," Augusto said with a smirk. "I supply them with half their arsenal. They've tried to take me out a couple times, but I've made it clear that my cut of their weapon sales ain't worth their time. They kinda gave up trying. All the same, I tend to keep well out of the city proper. I run the warehouse from here, but they don't know that. It's like Sun Tzu says: If your enemy knows where you're at, buddy, don't fuckin' be there."

He took another gulp of whiskey. "Sorry to hear about your troubles. Of course I can kit you out. What is it you're looking for, exactly?"

Liam smiled. Of course Augusto was making money off of both ends of the conflict.

"Its just stuff," he said with a shrug. "I didn't lose anything I need that I can't replace."

"I presume then everything you have or can get your hands on are also imports? Nothing from inside the city?"

"I need a proper trench gun to start. I plan to get my hands dirty down in the sewers at some point. I had an automatic shotgun that would have done the job nicely, but its so much slag at the bottom of a pit in Riverhead now."

"Shit, I thought you were gonna ask for something hard," Augusto said. He shouted towards the kitchen. <<Shotguns. Give me the autos and the high-caps.>>

Moments later, the cooks brought out a pair of long foot lockers put, stacked one on top of the other. They opened these and laid out an impressive array of large-bore boomsticks.

He picked up the largest of the first set. "You've probably seen the Redwatch humping these big fuckers around. AA-12s. Bulky, fussy, heavy, pain in the ass." He tossed it to one of the cooks, who stumbled to catch it.

"You want a Saiga," he said, picking up something that looked like a Kalashnikov. "It's basically an up-chambered AK. Compact, reliable, tough. Twelve round magazines. If you want a more compact arrangement, the stock comes off. Standard mag holds 8. You can get a 12-round box or 30—round drum but then you're back to being bulky. Personally, if you want capacity you're better off with a good pump."

He passed the Saiga to Liam and picked up a futuristic looking boxy number. "Neostead. Two tube mags in the top, 7+7+1, 15—round capacity. You can select which mag to feed from and load it up with two different kinds of ammo if you're so inclined." He laid the second gun in front of Liam. "So what'll it be?"

"I had a Neostead," Liam said, running his hand along the barrel reminiscently. "Got it off of Trent back in the day. Always feared the ammo selector would fail on me at the wrong time."

He looked back at the gun in his hand, feeling the weight of it. "I think you're right. I want a Saiga. Kalishnikov built a rifle that would fire under the worst conceivable conditions on the eastern front. That's what I need out of a gun."

Liam took a puff on his cigarette, holding both it and his drink in the other hand now.

"What do you have for ammunition? Dragon's breath?"

"I mean, if you hate your gun and want to change out the receiver every twenty rounds, then sure I can get you Dragon's Breath. It's what I sell the Redwatch. Though if you want to do some damage to your opponent and not your gun, I'd recommend a HESH round. He leaned over and dug a round out of one of the foot lockers. "It's basically a metal-coated C4 slug. You use it on a hard target, and it kinda... Squashes on it before it blows up. Good for light armor, but it'll blow up people just as well. Though just between you and me, good old-fashioned double aught buck suits most needs just fine. And it's a lot safer than high explosives if you plan on takingit  into poorly maintained tunnels, capisce?"

“I like it,” Liam replied. “That makes a good deal more sense to me.”

“How about this swanky body armor your boys are wearing?” Liam asked. “Got anything in my size?”

He set the gun down and took a sip from his glass.

“By the way, is the Sole Regret yours? Or is someone else running out of the docks? I see the Cams haven’t shut it down.”

Augusto smiled widely at his first question. "This guy," he said to one of his goons. "Just gets through telling me he walked away from a bomb blast, and he wants to get some armor." He chuckled.

To Liam's second question, he shook his head. "No," he said. "Nothing in the city is mine. Except for the warehouse, but that's because I do business with them, and I've demonstrated I'll defend it." A dark expression washed over his face for a moment, and he was quiet. Then he changed the subject.

"So yeah, we can get you some armor. Those guys on the deck are wearing some entry-level tactical gear. Ballistic helmet, full vest and groin. You probably don't need any pads so that'll lighten you up a bit, but that ceramic plating is heavy as fuck. You're strong, but it'll probably still bind you up a bit if you wanna get acrobatic. If you want something a little more form-fitting you can wear all the time, I can get you that too. It'll take a pistol or a shotgun blast but anything high-powered will punch right through. Might slow it down a bit, but it's not you're gonna find it sweaty or anything. Perks of being dead." He knocked on his own chest to indicate that he was wearing one himself.

He arched his eyebrow. "I do have to caution you that after a couple rounds, even the big boys lost their integrity. After that it's basically just a really heavy cardigan. So no refunds."

He snickered. "Now, if you're planning on standing in front of any more explosions, I can probably get you an EOD suit, but I'll have to ship it in from Ukraine."

"I didn't plan on standing in front of the last explosion either but these sorts of things have a knack for finding me all the same," Liam said with a grin. "Maybe its because I don't leave well enough alone," he added with a wink.

"Forget the bomb disposal suit. I need to be able to move. How much are we talking for the form fitting suit, the Saiga, a couple of spare mags and a box of HESH rounds?" Liam asked.

One job at a time. There was only so much he could walk away with and still fly home, Liam knew. And there was no point in walking out with an arsenal he couldn't use. Finding Lloyd was a definable objective. He had a rough idea of what he might need to get there and it didn't include 30-cals on a belt feed.

"And do your guys have a chop shop with an RF shielded container or something like that? If I brought back some Redwatch guns or maybe something as large as a VFPD cruiser, could your boys strip out the transmitters?"

"A cruiser or something you're gonna want to handle on site," Augusto said. "If the GPS logs led up to my warehouse and then it went dark, well, even the Redwatch are going to figure that one out. If you're looking to bag some kit, you can literally bag it."

"We can discuss price once I make sure we've got everything in your size," he said, almost dismissively. Then, to his lieutenant. "Bring Mr. O'Farrell one of the big Faraday bags when you bring up his purchases, please. And throw in a few boxes of buckshot on the house." The gooniest of the goons in the room disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

"Cops use Faraday bags for phones and laptops all the time," he continued. "All's you gottaJust make sure you don't open the bag unless you're inside a shielded room. We made one out of a shipping crate. Which I guess you could use to conceivably boost a car. Which is why you usually bring someone who's good with tech with you to steal the car, cause that sounds like a lot of work. But I don't rent out my techies. Normally I'd tell you to hire us to boost something, but the city's too hot right now. Maybe when things cool down a bit we can talk."

He leaned in conspiratorially. "But from the sound of things, you're no stranger to boosting stuff. What's this I hear about you stealing a buncha houses?"

“The resistance needs a place to live,” Liam said with a grin. “Although I’ve gotta say, that one could have gone smoother,” he added without elaborating.

“I’d love to talk battle rifles with you sometime but I flew in tonight, so I’m only carrying out what I can wear. Couple more items on the list I’d like to bring back with me, and they should be easy. I‘ll take an extra face mask off your hands if you have any. Ship full of mortals in the midst of a pandemic, I’d be amazed if you don’t. And I need a bottle of Gatorade. Any flavour, so long as it’s unopened. Special request,” he said with a wink.

He turned to one of the cooks. "You heard the man," Augusto said. The cook disappeared into the kitchen. He turned his attention back to Liam. "You be sure to give ol' Augusto a call when you're setting to kit this resistance out, you hear?"

The chef returned with a black & gray digital camo neck gaiter, a navy blue fabric earloop mask, and a bottle of Gatorade with English and Russian on the label. "Now who says gun running isn't a service indus-"

Augusto trailed off as the music booming from the deck cut off abruptly. He stood, and looked at his goons. Then at Liam. There was a moment of silence, then a voice came over the radio.

<<Someone from the Tremere to see you, Boss,>> the voice said. <<On the deck.>>

Augusto cleared his throat. "Be right back," he said. He looked up at the dorade vent on the galley ceiling. "You know, if I wanted to look up on deck without being seen, I'd use one of those."

"Augusto," Liam interjected. He hated to negotiate with a man over a barrel, but really what better time was there to do so? Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out something small in his closed fist. "Sun Tzu might have had more to say on the subject but I always thought Roosevelt put it well: Speak softly and carry a big stick."

Liam unfurled his fingers palm up, holding the smallest big stick that ever there was on his upturned hand.

"I thought this might make us square tonight."

Being arms dealer to the arms dealer was a rare and heady opportunity. Liam wasn't about to lose his best and only customer to van Fokke's witch hunters tonight.

For the moment, Augusto forgot all about the commotion up on deck. He took off his sunglasses and stared wide-eyed at the object in Liam's palm. He reached out ant plucked it with trembling fingers. Then he hastily pulled out his gun, and fed the round into the waiting chamber of his five-seven. As the slide snapped the round into place, Augusto gave a grunt and a deep shudder, like a junkie getting his first hit after a long dry spell. Liam swore that his face grew a little less skeletal right before his eyes.

"Yeah...this'll just about square us," he said placidly, after a moment lost in bliss. Then, dreamily, he added. "I, uh, gotta go see what's what."

"Go," Liam said with a smile. He put out his cigarette in the ash tray and tossed back the remainder of his drink. Standing up from the table as Augusto departed he looked around the compartment at the remaining goons. "Fellas, I'm going to go watch from up there if that's alright with you," he said pointing at the vent.

Liam discorporated into a vaguely man shaped cloud of mist with a wink and gently drifted up towards the ceiling.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:36, Mon 10 Aug 2020.

There was no argument from the Goons, and they seemed unsurprised when Liam disincorporated in front of them.

By the time Liam had made it to the bell of the Dorade vent, Augusto was already on deck, facing off against a Tremere agent. The Tremere wore a heavy, thick duster that looked like it was armored. He wore an armband like the Redwatch, only his was white, and instead of the group's flaming tower crest, it bore the sigil of House Tremere superimposed on a fanged skull. Presumably, one of the Witch-Hunters.

He and Augusto had not exchanged words. The Tremere was simply busy drawing a casting circle on the deck with his own blood. A moment later, particles of light began to emanate from the circle. The Witch-Hunter stepped back, and the light coalesced into a form. The man was old-looking for a vampire. His eyes were beady and cold, his head bald, and his expression severe. Van Fokke, nearly in the flesh. His work done, the Witch-Hunter made a quick departure.

"You know," Augusto said. "Zoom works just as well for a face-to-face, and it doesn't mess up my deck. Maybe you can ask one of your neonates to show you how t-"

"You have been disloyal," Van Fokke interrupted. "Holloway and Al-Rashid detonated a fuel-air bomb in my city four nights ago. They could only have received it from you."

"Wait, that wasn't you?" Augusto said, feigning ignorance. "I figured you were working on a new super-spell that went wrong. I haven't sold any bombs that big, and I sure as hell wouldn't sell it to a couple of terrorists like-"

"Spare me your pathetic excuses," van Fokke said. "You have been allowed to remain in this city by the benevolence of the Tremere and you have taken advantage of our good faith. Now you will understand the price of betrayal."

"Hey now," Augusto said, folding his arms. "You touch me, you'll have the entire Giovanni to answer to. I've left all the details of your little world domination plan with people I trust. Not to mention you need me to keep you outfitted with all that fancy ammunition."

"Oh don't worry, we wouldn't dream of harming you," van Fokke said, and gestured with his hand. "And I think we will make do with what we take as reparations." The pier lit up with flashing red and blue lights as the full force of the VFPD descended on Augusto's warehouse. The sound of distant gunfire carried across the waves.

"Think about what you're doing," Augusto growled. "Without my associates, how do you think you'll be able to control the pier?"

Van Fokke shrugged. "A problem for the accountants," he said wryly. "Now take your little boat and leave. If we see you here again, we'll send you on a guided tour of the bottom of the harbour."

"I can't believe you're sacrificing the goodwill between our two clans, and the business relationship we've cultivated, all on an unproven suspicion," Augusto said. "If I could just-" But it was no use. The figure vanished, and the magic circle dissolved in a burst of sparks and flame.

"Aah, fuck," Augusto cursed. Then he turned and shouted up to the bridge. "Weigh anchor. Kill the lights. Get us the hell out of here."

He took a look at the dorade where Liam was hiding, and headed back below decks. In their absence, the lieutenant had returned with a full duffel bag, and a slim vest over his shoulder. He handed it to Liam to try on.

"Guess this'll complicate our future deals," Augusto said. "Unless you want to help me get back at them."

"I was going to help you get back at them even if you didn't ask," Liam said, once he'd taken shape again. He reached for the slim vest and tugged off his shirt. "Its why I'm here."

"What did you have in mind?"

"It's going to be harder to police the waters if they don't control the skies," Augusto said. "The local choppers should be easy enough for someone who can fly, and I can get you in to the airbase. I can kit you out with enough explosives to ground their entire fleet. Then all we need to worry about is the Gangrel."

The boat shuddered as it began to accelerate. The hum of the engine grew louder, and the ship swung around. Liam's innate sense of direction told them the boat was headed up the river towards Montreal.

“I’m in,” Liam readily replied. “I’d like nothing more than to take back the skies.”

“When?”

"That's up to you," Augusto said. "Say the word and I send one of these jamouks here to deliver the goods. Can you fly a chopper?"

“No but a friend of a friend can, and tonight I intend to enlist him into the resistance whether he’s ready for it or not.”

“How do I go about contacting you now that you’re heading down the river? And what can you tell me about this air base and the choppers? I noticed oddly enough they didn’t send any to keep watch over the warehouse tonight.”
This message was last edited by the player at 00:45, Tue 11 Aug 2020.

"Why would they?" Augusto said. "I can't fly, and I don't think they care whether any of my boys make a run for it or not. They're too busy looking for you, and coordinating with the airborne Gangrel. If I was you I'd fly right on in - they get bats flying in and out all damn night - pop whoever's in there, and let gravity bust the chopper for you. But I'm guessing your buddy can't fly without a chopper, and you're going to get upset about collateral damage. So you could always blow 'em up from the ground."

"Now as for the airbase, how do you feel about slithering up a drain pipe?"

"That's... not a bad idea," Liam conceded. "Not dropping them over the city mind you, but the rest of it."

"I can squeeze through just about any pipe. Where's this one?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Tue 11 Aug 2020.

"So one of my guys worked construction before the occupation. Had to fix a downpipe blockage at the airbase. The drain in the pilot's lounge runs down to the river, and it had formed a clog where it met the waterline. Flyboys are spoiled, and a lot of 'em don't like mixing with the grunts. So they've got a shower in their little clubhouse. They also don't like to walk, so it's right next to the fuckin' hangars. I can work a tentacle up it, but I can't bring in or take out anything that won't fit through the drainpipe. You, you beautiful freaky bastard, don't have the same problem."