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| Indy |
A helicopter flew across the Puget sound at night, its red beacons reflecting on the shadowy rolling waters as it crossed the bay. Indy sat in the dark cockpit of the Kiowa Warrior helicopter, its green dash casting a soft glow throughout the compartment.
Her pink cyber-eyes shifted to the left, digital iris's spinning as the aircraft gently listed that direction, the copter's control stick seemingly moving on its own accord. Behind her on the bench seating rest the assault team, each member feeling the vehicles frame vibrate as the rotors churned and expelled a dull humming noise around them.
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| Yumi |
The massive troll Yumi, with his albino skin radiating almost a sickish eerie-green in the dim light, sat with his back and head slouched under the low roof, causing his shoulders to look even wider than usual. He took a deep breath of cool night air, ready to complete the final leg of the mission. All they needed to do was snatch one piece of data, to which they were informed was kept in a safe. A Simple in and Out with as little casualties as possible. And absolutely, under no conditions were the two hosts, Mr and Mrs Herdmann, to be harmed. The catch? The whole thing was taking place on a forty meter long private yacht.
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| Joe |
To Yumi's right sat Joe, the newest member of the team. Looking comfortable on the bench as if he's done this before, he pulled back and audibly popped the charging handle of his assault rifle; chambering the first round. After the click he felt better, more calm, finding something comforting in the familiar sound. The sensor in his smartgun output immediately verified his weapon was hot in his augmented reality readout. Below that was an ammo count and a barrel temperature indicator. While it was comforting to some, it was not so much to others.
At the sound Lennie looked up, almost started, her slight body on the verge of looking out of place in the current company. She's tapped into the all the communications channels she could muster, listening for any chatter that might turn their job south. Locating a knight Errant patrol boat in the area, she pulled a few virtual strings and sent out a false distress attached to a phantom ship several miles down the coast. The patrol boat shortly left the vicinity to investigate, sending a brief message to HQ with their intentions.
Sharing the same comm-signal, Indy looked back and winked at Lennie, giving her a thumbs up.
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| Zimmer |
On the ship Zimmer walked out into the dining area, holding two trays of appetizers, in one hand some Vietnamese spring rolls and in the other Crab and Cream Cheese Napoleons. Walking around the glossy wooden table his eyes took in everything and everybody. Mr and Mrs Herdmann chatting with their three guests, all eyes expressively open and all too eager to get a sampling of his culinary delights, created as instructed by the knowsoft program he currently had running though his simsense input. Getting a hold of his fixer before hand for it had given him the extra edge and confidence he needed in completing his facade as a sous-chef aboard the yacht.
Just outside the door he noted two guards, both facing outward, sub-machine guns hanging by a strap off their shoulders. Simple discrete black jackets, armored of course, with matching slacks and shiny black dress shoes. Comfortable enough to fight in, but nothing to wear in a situation where your life depended on it.
Zimmer's eyes glanced over at the tall windows encircling the cabin, looking for the two other guards he had seen when the ship left the dock. Nothing was in sight.
Lips barely moving, Zimmer inaudibly whispered into his sub-dermal mic, "Two at the door, two others, whereabouts unknown," he informed, beginning his plan.
The message came though loud and clear in the helicopter. Indy nodded to herself, changing course to intercept the yacht in five minutes.
A small addition of a carefully administered neuro-toxin to the meal was all it took to render the dining party out. While it wouldn't harm or leave any long term effects, the toxin would trigger the auto response on Mr. Herdmann's DocWagon bracelet. Only seconds after unconsciousness did small LED on his bracelet begin to pulse, matched by a high pitched squelch which alerted the guards outside. The drug had worked faster than planned, leaving Zimmer standing in the same room as the dinner party when security entered the room.
The DocWagon chopper arrived to the yacht, much faster than the security team had expected, but considering the situation, they weren't about to complain. Most had little combat experience and were hoping this would be a medical issue DocWagon could take care of for them. And if there was to be combat, at least they would have some support.
