New Job, New Team

Mr. Johnson just placidly stares at Mister J, waiting for him to be done with his approach. She then ignores it like it didn't happen. All. Business. "I don't care if you kill some animals. It's the research and the lab that's important. In that order."

She glances over at Moloch a bit quicker than necessary. "They're all small mammals. Doggish-size at most, from what I've been told. Let me know if that's not true."

Randy looks up at Mister J. "You can buy me some drinks. But I don’t put out on first dates; you’ll have to work for it..."

The pixie turns to look at the corp representative. "What’s the time table? How long do we have to prepare?"

"What can you tell us about the security systems? Any automated guns, or drones that might not distinguish between us and the...animals in the compound?"
When Ness speaks, he elocutes clearly, but with a slight German accent.

"Wheel's are going to up in one hour. You shouldn't need a lot of time to prepare, though. As I said, I'm authorized by the corp to provide you with anything you need that's not part of your standard package. Just don't get crazy.""As far as security goes, it's quarantine protocols. It's not going to care who or what you are."

Mr. Johnson shakes her head with a frown at Reina's comments. "I can get you the main system passcode. That'll get you in the door. After that... The labs were modular, designed to be reconfigurable for whatever they thought they needed. As a result, the system is somewhat compartmentalized, and there hasn't been enough time to figure out how to get ahold of those codes."

As she's saying this, she pulls a stack of credsticks out of her jacket's breast pocket, and tosses them on the table. They clatter out of the pile across the surface. "That's half, not including the bonus."

She answers her phone, and turns away, subvocalizing into the phone. She's cautious. Then she swivels back toward the table for just a moment, motioning to you all that it's time to go.

---

As she heads out of the bar, the sky is suddenly filled with a loud roar. She seems to expect it, and exits out the front of the bar, in a hurry if not exactly a rush.

You follow Mr. Johnson out of the bar, and the roaring grows louder. Glancing up, you see an Ares Dragon preparing to land in the middle of the street - apparently she's in a big hurry. Moments after the chopper lands, a side door on the helicopter opens, and Mr. Johnson climbs in. She gestures for the group of you to follow.

When you enter the chopper, Mr. Johnson points to a series of boxes lined up against one wall. "That's what you asked for. Dig in." The boxes include not only any wishlist items that meet the requisites she mentioned, but also the microcams you're required to wear. As soon as everyone is on board, the Dragon takes off.

Mr. Johnson keys on her phone again. "We're en route."

Her device's screen - for those with keen eyesight, or who happen to be at the right angle to her at the right time - pulls a data stream that's just been sent to her. She reads it, her helixed eye flashing. After she keys the device back off again, she starts speaking. "The lab is currently set up for attempts to awaken paranormal genes in rodents. The primary animal being experimented upon was the rabbit. However, there were some experiments involving rats, squirrels, and other rodentia. There was also one department attempting to expand some of this work into the primates, by working with monkeys.

"Several of the areas have apparently acquired a certain degree of success. Preliminary reports indicated that several of the specimens had potential military/security applications. I don't have precise details on these. I'm going to assume based on the fragments of reports I have that the creatures' abilities might include astral sensing, neurotoxins, and some degree of body armor. The most accurate information is of course in the laboratory computers, which no one has access to.

"Speaking of..." She pauses as she digs in a pocket that you could swear wasn't there before. "Here's the main base codes. It should also allow you access to the mainframe, to get it back on line. However, as I said before... this may not access all of the individual labs. Anything that was reconfigured since the last security update will have its own temporary passcode."

Half an hour later, you can look out of your window to see the coast, lined with huge pine trees that cut through the mist like a million soldiers in a chaotic phalanx. In the distance, a small island is visible. It too is covered in forest, barring one spot on the beach.

Before you get there though, the helicopter moves to set down on the coast, in a small clearing. When it lands, Mr. Johnson steps down from the helicopter. "The pilot will take you the rest of the way. I'll be monitoring from here. Keep your microcams open and broadcasting. Good luck."

Without waiting for any further conversation, she turns and heads to a black four-wheeled SUV that's been upgraded to an odd-looking limo, and the helicopter takes off once again. Now devoid of any passengers but yourself, the pilot feels free to fly a little faster. His compartment up front is separated and sealed, so if you're getting motion sickness, you'll just have to bear with it.

He turns, heading to the island you saw earlier. Now that you're closer, you may notice two things. The first is that there is clearly a scientific outpost on the island. It actually occupies almost all of the visible surface behind the first stretch of trees. The second item of note is that there is a large dark cloud rapidly approaching your helicopter.

Mister J, it's magical, that's about all you get from that. Astral Perception will tell you more if anyone has that.

The cloud moves faster than it should be able to. It slams into the helicopter, and you realise that this isn't an ordinary cloud. Maybe a spirit of some kind? There's not very much time to think about it.

As the cloud hits, metal snaps and sparks fly. You feel a lurch as you see remnants of the helo's blades flying away from the craft. The cloud keeps going. You were either not important enough to be a target, or it did what someone asked it to do. That problem is over, but you have a new one now. You need to get out of this thing before it slams into the water.