Tracy Trudeau's Apartment
Often listed as a 'Student Apartment' in the Arcadia Towers directories, this 15 by 30 foot unit faces into one of the arcology's many light-and-air shafts. The entry is in the center of the inner wall, with a coat closet immediately to the left and opening into the kitchen area to the right. Past the closet is the door to the bathroom, which itself sports a shower/jet-tub combination and a small single-drum ozone-powered washer-dryer unit. Another closet is beyond that, just across from the built-in breakfast counter that marks the end of the kitchen. The living space takes up the rest of the unit, with a walk-in closet on the right side, behind the bathroom. The outer wall is a single pane of video-glass. A small bed, workstation and futon are the only pieces of actual furniture, and the built in shelves only hold two small track and gymnastics trophies, a mixed-martial-arts certificate and a photo frame cycling through family pictures.

Has it been less than half an hour since Tracy's morning began with a shootout? Outside, the police are dismantling the 'Crime Scene' ticker tape and the medevac choppers are spinning up their rotors, taking the injured away. Maintenance people have arrived with float-platforms and supplies to repair the bullet holes. In not too much longer, it may look like nothing at all happened here.

Cadena's collar beeps. A pleasant anonymous female voice says, "Thank you for holding. Mrs. Trudeau will take your call now." A few seconds later, a tiny Holly appears projected before the large gem of his collar; the scene behind her looks like one of the many labs of Avatars LLC. "Cadena! Tracy! Are you all right?" She peers worriedly. "I'm sorry to take so long, we just had a major security meeting and I couldn't get out of it. What happened?"

"Oh, hi Mom," Tracy says, kneeling down to be level with Cadena's pickup. "Err... Sasha opened a portal from Dantech's game world to my floor, and sent some monsters and ruffians through to cause trouble, claiming to be Face Reality. What was in the simulation data that Avatars released to Penny Arcadia, anyway? Did it include the Towers?"

"My apologies, Mrs. Trudeau," Cadena says, looking worried at Tracy's depiction of events (even if it seems true enough). "I'll forward you a copy of the statement that I gave to the police, including what data was accumulated by my deck, though I'm afraid it does not cover the entirety of the event. The important thing is that Tracy is fine."

"Sasha? Sasha KNIGHTLEY?" Holly appears about to erupt into Angry Protective Mom mode.

"Yeah, that's what Jason says anyway," Tracy points out. "Uh, I'm packing stuff right now. Randall's gonna pick us up and move us.. someplace safer."

"The episode was rather bewildering," Cadena says. "Rather exaggerated language is being used, including such claims as reality itself being split asunder somehow. There were a number of individuals dressed as characters who might be from the 'Gloaming' virtual online game, who were deliberately targeting civilians as well as security and police personnel. I ... was forced to take hostile action in the defense of bystanders."

The dog's eyes have a slightly glazed look as he talks about all this "exaggerated language."

Tracy reaches over to undo the clasps on Cadena's security vest, while the dog is within reach.

Miniature hologram Holly frowns. "In my line of business, Cadena, it's better to assume the worst. Tracy, hon, are you sure you don't want me to send a car down to pick you up? I think you'll be safer here than..." She eyes Tracy meaningfully "That abandoned warehouse of Jason's. If that's what you were thinking of!"

"He's got a Red system, Mom," Tracy notes. "I'll be able to finish my classes through that. And someone has to watch his back." She gets up and begins collecting the few personal effects she has to put into the first duffel bag with her clothes.

"I still cannot figure out how they managed to get those weapons in past security," Cadena says, looking confused. "It's not as if they evidenced any attempt at...." He pauses, then adds, "Mrs. Trudeau, there is something else I observed. After the attackers fell into a comatose state, it appeared as if a noxious black gaseous substance was being released at the point of physical contact between myself and one of the hostiles. When I withdrew, I believe the phenomenon stopped, but I cannot be sure, as my attention was immediately directed elsewhere."

"They dissolved once the link was broken," Tracy calls out, taking the second bag into the living room area to pack Cadena's equipment.

Holly looks frustrated at her daughter. "Honey! You do realize a Red system doesn't protect you against physical attacks, do you? He's all alone out there, with all sorts of --" She frowns at the news of the black goo. "That's bad."

"Wait ... dissolved?" Cadena does a double-take and looks to Tracy. "I ... I do believe either I misheard you, or I missed something important. What does that mean, exactly?"

"Mom, I'll be fine. He's got all sorts of defenses," Tracy claims. She gets out the insulated grocery bags, and starts filling them with Cadena's gourmet dog food entrees and even the vacuum-packed, engineered filet mignon she was going to practice cooking with.

"Cadena, those thugs were made of simulated matter," Tracy tells the dog. "They came through a portal from a simulated reality, and once the portal closed or whatever, there wasn't anything keeping them 'real' anymore."

Holly taps at an unseen keyboard before her. "I'd feel better if you had some more protection! Randall's a nice officer, but he's not going to be able to stay with you. Maybe I could, oh, lend Jason a few security robots?"

"He'd want to reprogram them you know," Tracy points out. "He doesn't trust stuff he hasn't personally voided the warranty on. But I'm sure he'd find them useful!"

The dog blinks as he mulls over the information. "Some sort of incredibly advanced nanotechnology? That's ... that's astounding. And quite frightening. Perhaps we should be tested to make sure we did not inhale any of the byproducts of decomposition. I sincerely doubt that the developers of such technology were overly concerned with safety, given the execution of it."

"I'll give Jason a call," Holly says. She blinks at something on a computer screen. "You did what, Tracy? Dear, dear, I thought I raised you better than that!"

"Cadena.. you didn't see all of the recordings from RIU yet," Tracy notes, petting the dog. "You'll understand more when you've seen what happened at the theme park site."

The dog's tail wags weakly, and then he trots over to try to help pack a few things, albeit at a bit of a disadvantage when it comes to packing and talking at the same time.

The last things to go into the duffel bags are Tracy's own VR gear and chipware. She unplugs her Crystal Bracer computer from the workstation and wraps it around her forearm. "What, Mom?" Tracy asks, knowing that tone of voice.

Cadena helpfully closes up the bags with a clawtip, careful to keep quiet so as not to compete with Mrs. Trudeau, as she evidently has objections to ... something that might have happened recently.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times. Always Be Prepared For Things To Go Wrong," Holly says. "I know I was a little bit of a wild girl at your age, but if security has taught me anything, it's how to be practically paranoid. First of all, when you're in a gunfight and you don't have a gun - stay out of the line of fire! Second, never assume that they're playing with the same rules you are. If you made a bad call, you want to be able to cover your bet. And third, have an escape plan ready."

"I'm trying to escape.." Tracy mutters. Then nods to the projection. "I was caught by surprise is all. I thought I could talk them out of it.. and it sort-of worked." She doesn't mention Jason's electrocution plan.

Mini-Holly leans forward. "You do realize you're going to be the meme girl of the next few days, don't you, honey?"

Tracy very nearly bursts into tears, but holds it back. "I didn't know it was all being streamed," she mutters. "Another reason I need to get out - I have three classmates on this floor."

Holly air-hugs her daughter. "It'll be all right, dear. Take it in stride. You'll impress them more if you roll with it. Show that Trudeau streak of unpredictability!"

After wiping her nose on her non-computer-clad jumpsuit sleeve, Tracy asks, "You aren't gonna let Dad see that part, are you?"

"He's seen worse," Holly assures Tracy. "We both changed your diapers back when."

"Good grief, Mom," Tracy whimpers. "Don't say stuff like that in front of the dog.."

Cadena just looks casually away, toward the nearest ... wall. Yes, that wall looks very interesting.

"Even if it was a terrible plan, you can still pretend it worked, bought some valuable time for Cadena to get in among them and do some damage," Holly advises her daughter. "But the important thing right now is to get to a safe place. You've got to think ahead. What if Randall doesn't make it before someone else pops up wanting to take a shot? What if Jason's warehouse gets bombed in the meantime? If this is all for real, then they could literally attack anywhere, without warning."

"And.. uh.. you don't have any security bots that transform into air bikes or similar, do you?" Tracy asks, figuring that her mom would have requested a feature like that if it was possible. "Just in case, for that escape route option?"

"Believe me, our scientists are working on it," Holly says with a smile. "But no, nothing like that right now. Just regular big hulkin' hunks of gun-laden doom."

Tracy looks at the video-wall, which is all that stands between her apartment and the open bus platform outside. "I've got my taser, and my wig. With my mirrorshades on, I don't think anyone would recognize me. And the video only caught Cadena in his armor, so without that he's less noticeable, right?"

"I for one have great respect for gun-laden doom," Cadena notes, "particularly when it's on my side. But as for notability ... I'm not sure that there's much we can do with our immediate resources to counteract automated pattern recognition."

"First of all, you're on foot, unless you've bought a car without telling me," Holly advises practically, but her eyes are a mother's filled with worry for her daughter. "Are you still getting around on the bus? That'll expose you to a lot of strangers."

"Randall won't be that long," Tracy says, chewing on her lower lip. "But.. until then maybe I can impose on a classmate. Adam is across the shaft. I could wait at his place and watch the monitor to see who comes to my door.."

"Are there any known limitations to this technology?" Cadena asks. "Of course, we have to worry about more conventional threats, but I am particularly concerned about the casual use of remotely-generated nanotech entities to do one's dirty work. It inspires one to act without fear of retribution. Perhaps there are some sort of technical constraints? Such as, for instance, being in areas without much interference? Would being 'off the grid,' so to speak, provide any defense?"

"We need to be someplace that doesn't have detailed simulation data, I think," Tracy says. "And Jason said the attackers' quantum-core might be down or disabled, so we shouldn't expect a portal attack anytime soon, unless they have a backup."

"It might be too much for us to hope that someone with such resources," Cadena notes, "does not have some sort of a backup." He looks anxiously toward the door monitor.

Holly frowns at the mention of 'simulation data'. "I am going to have to have a word with Jason," she says. Tracy senses a certain tone of 'talk between adults' in her voice.

"Hey, no telling him to cut me out of the loop!" Tracy demands. "Or making him feel like a babysitter." She picks up the filled duffel bags and heads for the door, also checking the monitor to see what's going on outside.

Holly sighs. "Honey, honey, it's not like that. Anyway, I'm giving Randall a ping, and I'm going to arrange for a little extra security, all right? You keep an eye out and stay out of trouble." She pauses. "And dear, don't stay at a classmate's place. They aren't ready to handle this kind of trouble. You aren't either, but you aren't going to believe me, no matter how much I tell you, are you, sweetheart?"

"Where you ready when it happened to you, mom?" Tracy asks, actually sounding a bit worried.

She looks skyward. "Oh, God. Is anyone ever ready for being sucked into a virtual reality and told you're going to die if you don't get out in thirty days?"

"That's why I did the unpredictable thing," Holly says with a grin. "It helped me cope a bit. If the universe was going to get all freaky on me, I was going to freak them back."

"Well, I'm not getting sucked into anything," Tracy claims, and gets her red cycle jacket, with the convenient armor inserts (including the hollow one with her lockpicking tools) and checks that she's got her G-Tool blade in her purse. "I saw your hair.. that was about as freaky as anyone can get. I don't know if I could do that, though," she tells her mom. "C'mon, Randall. It can't take you this long to get dressed."

Cadena frowns. "I suppose you might have heard it in the reports, but I recall that they made mention of some sort of primary target. I regret that I never found out just what that target was."

"Er, sorry," the dog says, shaking himself out of intently studying the monitor. "I was thinking about the hostiles, again."

"They did have a target?" Tracy asks, surprised. "If I'm right and Penny Arcadia is involved, you don't think she'd try to hurt me just because she lost her daughter, do you? I mean, you and dad couldn't have pissed her off that much, right?"

Randall's face appears on the vid screen. The blue sky and New York skyline are behind him, and the gray and dull brown of the Dregs are under him, girders sticking out of crumbling buildings. "I'm almost to your place, Tracy," he says. "ETA, ten minutes or so. You all set to go?"

Cadena looked as if he was mulling some sort of reply to Tracy, but seems relieved to be distracted by the monitor. "I believe we are as ready as we can be, officer."

The girl does a quick check of everything. "Yeah, I've got two bags and Cadena," she reports back.

Holly's holo-image appears to want to jump out and shake Randall. "You treat my daughter right, you hear!" she yells toward the screen. "And you be careful too, you dirty old pirate!"

"Perhaps I should keep some modest distance from Tracy, then," Cadena notes. "I may draw unwanted attention. I'm afraid I have no clever disguise prepared."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Randall says. "They'll be looking for cute half-Asian girl, not white dogs. If they're after Tracy."

As if on cue, twin brightly yellow-orange flames appear in the junkyard landscape, streaking up to the sky.

"Not again! They already shot down a transport this morning!" Tracy complains. "I hope Mara has flares or.. something!"

"Get to somewhere safe, and fast," Randall urges. He takes Mara down, swooping close to the missiles' angle of attack to try and break their locks.

"Let's go," Tracy tells Cadena, putting on her mirrorshades to hide her eyes and picking up the duffel bags. "We're getting a cab," she says, and opens the door.

Holly starts typing furiously, trying to locate resources that'd be useful. "Oh, for my purse of spells..." she mutters.

The white dog sniffs the air, and darts out to check the outside surroundings for danger before it finds Tracy first.

Outside the apartment, everything looks normal. Wait-- there's a teenager coming down the hall from the right, purposefully approaching Tracy's door, judging by his gaze. He's crewcut and wearing a sleek-looking, way too expensive for him, jumpsuit and leather jacket adorned with silvery spikes around the sleeves and collar, and a gun is holstered on his hip - pretty blatant carrying for civilians in the safe, enclosed environment of the Towers. But that was always Mark Berkowitz's style.

"Oh... I'd prefer a werewolf," Tracy mutters and takes a step back into the apartment. She draws her taser, flips the mode switch to 'contact' and moves her hand so she's holding it between her jacket and the duffel hanging from her shoulder, just in case. "He's my ex-boyfriend, Cadena," she whispers.

The dog seems uncertain as to how to react in response, so he settles for scanning the area again, and being wary, but not threatening.

Holly's hologram looks up from her typing. She waves a hand and the image blips out - but she's still connected, so says the green light on Cadena's collar. Her voice whispers to Cadena, "I never liked this guy."

The dog, for his part, doesn't interpret this as "Chew on the interloper," and just stays wary and ready.

Cadena, assuming for the time being that there's little chance in hiding and observing from the shadows at this point, and uncertain how quickly footage of him talking is going to circulate, defaults to playing the part of a dog let out to walk, and trots casually about, sniffing at whatever looks sniffable.

Mark frowns, seeing the door opened but no signs of Tracy. He slows his approach. "Huh, did someone get to her first?" he mutters to himself, moving forward to try to see inside.

The big white dog wags his tail and opens his mouth, letting his tongue loll, ears perking, acting the part of a VERY big dumb dog who wants to PLAY!

From her place smooshed behind the open door, Tracy listens and waits. "Did someone else get to me first? Is there a bounty on me or something?" she silently wonders.

"Wurf!" Cadena barks, tail wagging. He crouches down on his forepaws, then jumps a little. He pants and pants, tongue lolling, and trots up toward the interesting new person, snuffling intently, and showing no evidence of recognition of the concept of "personal space."

Mark puts a hand to his gun holster. "Hey! Down," he says, looking maybe a bit eager to claim 'self defense against rabid dog'. "Are you Tracy's new dog or something? They didn't say anything about that!" He peers in the apartment... Just in time for the video screen to fill up with smoke and an earthshattering KABOOM. The connection goes dead.

The big white dog rears up just a bit, snuffling and then slobbering at the strange man's gun hand, and then LEANS forward like one of those big dogs that still thinks it's just a puppy. SLURRRRRRRRRRP! Cadena was spending the last few minutes working up a lot of dog drool just for such a move as this, and he puts it to good use.

"ACK!" Mark tries desperately to fend Cadena off, then figures out that it's going to take both hands... And even then, he's still getting the worst of it. He's rather critically distracted at just this moment.

Tracy takes advantage of the distraction, slipping out from behind the door to point her taser at her ex. She flips it back to 'ranged' mode with an audible click, once she has the laser dot centered on the back of the boy's head..

The white dog continues to go "slobber slobber pant pant slobber slobber," and so forth.

With Cadena clear, Tracy switch back to 'contact' mode and presses steps forward to zap Mark in the back of the head.

And with a crackle, Tracy's taser lands directly on the nape of Mark's neck. If he'd had much hair, there might have been a little danger, but close-shaven as it is, there's no resistance at all. He goes down, thwump

Taser holstered, Tracy grabs the boy's legs and tries to drag him back into the apartment.

Cadena does a quick look-around to see if anyone noticed (or if the boy had backup), then joins his co-conspirator in hiding the evidence.

Door shut, Mark Berkowitz is safely stowed. If this were Avatars, there would be glowy crystals in the air to collect. In the Gloaming, glows would surround whatever items of interest could be taken from a body. Looting Mark's body in real life however, comes with no such easy accompaniments. Asides from his expensive-looking trenchcoat with spikes, and his Spazztic! Hammergun, there's his PDA stored in an inside coat pocket, a shiny looking dagger - a dagger in this day and age? - and most worrisome of all, the Wild Hunt emblem on his jumpsuit beneath the coat.

Cadena, not realizing whether this symbol might already mean something to Tracy, points it out with a paw. "The others had this symbol," he notes. "I am going to take a wild guess and suppose that there's a very good chance he was not here merely to annoy you, or to try to take advantage of a stressful situation to get back into your good graces, but rather came with hostile intent."

Tracy pockets the pistol, PDA and dagger, and frowns when no vehicle keys show up. "He was already in the tower then, and probably controlling one of the attackers," she guesses to Cadena. She taps on her wrist computer, trying to get through to Jason. "If he was the Ranger, he might have recognized me. The Mage didn't pay much attention.."

The white dog only belatedly thinks to check the PDA to make sure it's not actively recording (and if it is, to do something about it).

The PDA is not recording actively, and appears to be voice-protected - standard security. Jason would probably have no trouble at all breaking it, but he never got around to that lesson.

Cadena notes, "This might provide us with access to some useful information ... but depending upon its features - and I am not at all up on the differences between the lines - it might have features that would allow its location to be tracked while active. I would recommend making sure that it is shut down cold before transporting it, just to be safe."

"The way he talked, it sounded like he isn't the only one that's local," Tracy notes, and goes to the door monitor to trigger the 'intruder/burglar' call to security. "We still can't stay here, and I can't kill him," she tells Cadena, and thens check to see if the PDA has a removable battery or memory card.

Cadena nods, and goes to the door. "We'd best try again to vacate the premises. The next fellow might be less hesitant to shoot a 'big friendly dog.'"

All those lessons from Jason in identifying those maintenance panels in security systems have paid off. In no time at all, Tracy pops the panel, nailing just the right place to push down and slide, and removes both the flat battery pack and the data chip. Any interesting data will be on the chip, the rest is just hardware.

Cadena turns about in time to see the quickly-disassembled device (as if by magic!) and looks suitably impressed.

Pocketing the chip, Tracy tosses the rest of the PDA into the microwave. She isn't sure how to sabotage the pistol, so pulls out the magazine and puts that in the oven, then sticks the pistol back in Mark's holster. "Let's go, I don't want to be here when security arrives," she tells Cadena, and grabs the duffel bags again and checks the door monitor.

Mark twitches, but seems safely unconscious. It looks like the normal morning trickle of people outside, no one thraetening - should be clear going to the skywalk and the taxi pickup point.

"I can scout. You perhaps should go ahead and call for the taxi if you haven't already," Cadena offers.

Tracy steps out, leaving the door open a crack for the security team, and instead of heading directly to the skywalk, she goes for the nearest emergency stairwell. "We're going up to the next one, it's only a few floors," she tells Cadena, then nods to the suggestion of calling a cab. Instead of using the general cab-call signal though, she uses a specific number, given to her and Jason by a certain cabby named Manuel.

Cadena dashes along, trying to keep a bit ahead, as alert for trouble as he can manage.

The stairwell echoes, eerily silent except for the sounds of their clattering up the steps.

"Most assuredly, my friend!" Tracy replies, and tells him which floor to pick them up on.

Holly's voice says from Cadena's collar, interrupting the silence, "Oh my God. Have you seen that... that thing Jason is wearing?"

"No wonder he did't answer his phone," Tracy mutters, and asks, "Is he going after Randall and Mara? And I haven't seen it being worn! I hope he doesn't hurt himself."

Cadena's ears twitch, as he has just no idea what this thing might be, but nonetheless just focuses on making his way up the stairs and keeping alert for trouble.

"He is! The idiot," Holly says unhappily. "They picked up Mara and Randall and loaded them onto one of their trucks, then took off into the abandoned subway system. What's your escape plan?"

"I know a cabby," Tracy says. "I'm still heading to Reality Check. Do you know who shot down Mara? Was it the Mavericks?"

Holly says, "Fits their MO. Listen, don't go haring off after Jason, if he doesn't have it programmed to let you in, just hole up and wait for him to get back." She continues giving Tracy motherly advice, from the perspective of a VP of security. "You know, it's not too late to just come down to Avatars LLC, it's safe here!"

Cadena notes, panting, "That does sound like a very reasonable alternative, all things considered, as a short-term solution."

"That would be predictable though.. and didn't it get invaded through a portal before?" Tracy notes. "Send the security bots to Reality Check. Jason thinks IronGrip is involved, which means Avatars tower may not be all that safe. Also, Jason was going to try and contact Akiko and Inari in case they're in danger too! Can you check on Akiko?"

"We might consider one of Avatars LLC's affiliates," Cadena notes, panting. "They're a multinational corporation. They aren't confined to a single building. The important thing is to be out of easy public access long enough to gather our thoughts and consider options."

Holly notes, "Jason called Akiko already!" She looks frustrated. "Why did I have to have a daughter just like me?"

"Cadena, I want to get that armored sneaksuit," Tracy admits. "If Jason is hurt, he'll need someone to look after him when he gets back, and if he doesn't.. then we can head to a safehouse."

"As you wish," Cadena says, still dashing up the stairs with as much haste as is not unduly unsafe.

Tracy opens the door at the next level to have a skywalk, and lets Cadena get a good sniff and look about.

Different people are walking to and fro up here, but since it's a store district, most of the 'consumer luxuries' stores are closed, and just the supermarket and hair care store nearby are open. From here, it's a minute or so to get to the nearest skywalk checkpoint.

"I don't see anyone more dangerous than we are," Tracy notes. "How about you?" she asks the canine.

Cadena goes out first, scanning and sniffing. Finding nothing immediately threatening, he trots forward....

One of the ever-present large monitors presents an ongoing news program. "We now go live to the Avatars theme park in Southern California, where Believers of the Hidden World have staged a peaceful demonstration," says the blandly pleasant looking female newsie. A crowd of people holding signs appears before the park gates, some dressed up in medieval costumes. "VR is real!" a sign proclaims. Another: "They're hiding the truth!"

Cadena spares a glance, just in case it's a familiar-looking "newsie," but otherwise tries to keep his attention on the more immediate potential threats as he advances.

"If they only knew," the girl mutters as she tries to keep a casual pace towards the skywalk. "Mom, are you still there? Do you guys have a military transport or anything near the old Incursion site still?"

The skywalk door is coming up, and there looks like a familiar-seeming taxi aircar parked on the pad outside, through the smokey grey glass. Beyond the skywalk stretches the seemingly miles-below city of North Bend.

"Just wishful thinking," Tracy says. "There's a kid named Mike, one of Sasha's stooges for the gunfight here. I convinced him of what was happening and he acted to shut stuff down, but now he's on the run in Palmdale. He hit Sasha with a taser. It would have been nice to be able to extract him if we got the chance." She waves to the taxi.

Manuel waves from the taxi. "Hola, beautiful!" Door-seals pop, wing doors open upward to let her and Cadena in. "Going to meet your boyfriend?"

Tracy grins, and slides into the cab, after tossing in the duffel bags. "You could say that! A little weekend getaway," she replies.

Cadena circles, checking the surroundings for anything suspicious: clouds of black disintegrating unstable matter, flaring missiles, wizards with fireballs - that sort of thing. Finally, he leaps in after Tracy.

"Ahh, long weekend then!" Manuel winks, it being Monday. He closes the doors and lifts off.

The aircar glides down from the Tower in a long, practiced curve. "Oh, I heard about the robbery. Terrible, terrible thing," Manuel says. "Those gangsters, very dangerous people. You do not want to mess with them. I have heard, they drag people out of their houses, and shoot them, if they think they are poking their noses where they shouldn't! Of course, only people who live..." He gestures, one hand on the control yoke. "Out there, in the bad part of town. Where they live."

"You won't find me out there, that's for sure," Tracy claims. "I don't think I'd last very long."

"Your boyfriend, he lives not too far from the bad part of town," Manuel claims. "He should be careful."

"Oh, he's very careful," Tracy notes, looking ahead. She isn't sure how to act if there are other vehicles already at their destination.

The aircar glides over the retaining wall of the fortified suburb. They aren't thick like a castle wall, but more in line of a fence with guard towers (automated) stationed every hundred feet or so. The peaceful, well kept appearance of the city soon changes to run-down buildings, grime-smeared streets, and soon enough, outright abandoned warehouses. Ahead is Reality Check, with the usual collection of aircars that have never been moved in all the time that Tracy has been there.

The teenager pays special attention to the rooftops, looking for suspicious shadows.

Cadena presses his nose against the window, leaning over Tracy to get a better look.

The place looks normal enough! From above, Tracy can make out the garden with its plots of soil with automated sprinklers keeping the plants hydrated.

Tracy fishes fifty newbucks from her purse (she's got over a thousand with her, since she drew out the cash to cover the cost of the black-market sneaksuit should it show up). "Thanks for the prompt pick-up, Manuel," she says.

Grabbing the duffels, Tracy opens the door as soon as the taxi sets down, so Cadena can hop out first.

The white dog does so, immediately circling and checking the vicinity for signs of potential trouble.

The taxi takes off, and they are left to make their approach quietly. The security system isn't obvious to casual onlookers, but Tracy can feel it scanning her and Cadena... Though physically it shouldn't be possible to feel such a thing.

At the door, Tracy takes off her glasses and presses the call button. "Kimon? It's Tracy and Cadena, can you please let us in?" she says.

The girl opens it the rest of the way and comes in, waiting for Cadena before closing it.

The dog sniffs around, uncertain just what sort of clientele are entertained here on a regular basis.

"Kimon, what's your security status?" Tracy asks aloud. "Have there been any cyber attacks since Jason took off?"

"Negative," says Kimon's voice from the air. "House is secure." Cadena's smell-analysis confirms this, though there is a definite new scent of... Motor oil?

Tracy heads for the conference room, where she drops the duffel with her clothes and such, carrying the second one with her into the kitchen. "Do you have emergency medical supplies?" she asks the security system next, as she starts unloading dog food and steak into the refrigerator.

"How much EMT stuff do you know, Cadena?" Tracy asks as she moves on into the workshop, heading for the indicated locker.

"Only the basics," Cadena admits. "Did Jason give any instructions regarding answering phones? I hear one ringing, and apparently the automated system is not picking up."

The ringing dies away. Kimon says cheerfully, if in a mechanical voice, "Jason Edwards isn't here right now, but if you leave your name and contact information he will return your call when he is back in the office." The caller ID on the monitor reads as 'Juan Desoto'.

"Must be one of his untraceable lines," Tracy mutters, and listens for the message, if any.

A swarthy-skinned, heavyset man appears on the video. "This is Desoto," he says. "We have the merchandise you requested. You'd better have the money for it. Meet in..." He gives the address for a warehouse not far from where Jason lives. "Tonight, at 1 AM."

"That reminds me," Tracy says, turning back towards the lockers. After she gets the medical gear out and unpacked for quick use, she goes to the locker that has the sneaksuit in it. "I think I would like to have some extra armor," she tells Cadena. "How about you? Can you wear your vest comfortably to keep it on for awhile?"

Tracy frowns and.. is actually shocked for a moment. "Mom? Are you still on the line?" she asks.

"My armor is made to fit me," Cadena says. "I am willing to put up with the resultant mild discomfort in the interests of greater safety."

"You were watching Jason, somehow, and saw his suit," Tracy notes. "Was it showing any signs of invisibility or cloaking?"

Mini-Holly flickers into shape, looking somehow more frazzled. "No, it looked like a gray fox-headed powered armor suit, honey." She takes a screen capture and forwards it. It's full of articulated metal parts and RIU is clinging to its shoulder... And there's a duffle bag slung across its back.

"I get it," Tracy says, snapping her fingers. "He couldn't just carry Randall out.. so he brought the sneaksuit for him! But.. why the fox head helmet?"

"Yeah, a trend," the girl agrees with Cadena. "Kimon, are you getting telemetry from Jason's suit? Is he.. undamaged?"

Kimon says, "Yes." Monitors blink on, displaying what Jason's seeing - a metalic-ceramic shipping crate that contains the gun-arm assembly of an Einhorn Crowd Protection Mecha. As he looks around, the scene reveals itself: an abandoned subway underground station, with a lot of crates and explosives. Internal telemetry shows that Jason is alive and healthy, though his heartbeat rate is up.

Tracy makes an involuntary squeak at the scene - all of those explosives! "Can he resist the temptation to blow it all up?" she mutters. "Kimon, can you send him a text-only message on his heads up letting him know that I'm here, and ask if he needs me to prepare or do anything?"

Cadena notes the explosives, and says, "I think the Einhorn motto is in order here. It would be best to 'tread lightly upon the Earth.'"

Meanwhile, Tracy empties her pockets of the memory chip and the dagger, finally taking a moment to examine the knife under one of the many work lights.

Several men arrive in an aircar at the subway station. Mr. Desoto addresses them, ordering them to start moving the boxes into the storage areas. This could be bad for Jason...

Cadena ponders, "Isn't that the same fellow from the video call - an associate of Jason's? Or am I mistaken?"

"Oh that's just great," Tracy says, noticing the screen. "Yeah, he must be the guy Jason contacted about a replacement sneaksuit. Can you sniff this dagger and tell if anyone other than Mark and I have handled it?"

Jason sneaks out of the station slowly and carefully. Tracy has to wince at the loud footsteps and clatter every now and then, drawing their attention... But fortunately, it seems that all the bustle of moving has covered his missteps up enough that he can get away to safety.

The subway tunnel whooshes past Jason's vision as he activates his flight system to get out of Dodge.

Kimon speaks, "Jason wishes for you to call your mother and ensure the security robots are ready ASAP. He desires to use them for a rescue tonight."

"I'm afraid I don't detect any other interesting scents; I am fairly certain that its owner - Mark - handled it the most," Cadena says. "It does not seem to have seen any meaningful use. That is, I detect no hint of blood, and the blade looks almost pristine - no chips."

Holly grumps. "Consider me called, but that transport isn't getting there any sooner than 45 minutes from now," she says. "And what does he mean, 'rescue'? Did someone appoint him the Lone Ranger of North Bend or something?"

"Has he even thought about the possibility that they'd kill Randall if things get violent?" Holly rants.

"Who's the 'Lone Ranger'?" Tracy asks. "Kimon, ETA on bots is 45 minutes, please relay that to Jason. Mom.. uh.. probably. Oh! Kimon, tell him Desoto called here to confirm a 1 AM meeting nearby, to purchase the 'item' they'd discussed earlier. So if we need to, we can call him back to distract him if necessary!"

Holly looks skyward at Tracy's question. "I'm old. No one gets what I talk about anymore. So much for my class in early 20th century pop culture!"

"Nevermind history," Tracy says. "Do those bots have Avatars LLC logos on them?"

The monitors showing Jason's progress track him heading back toward the Old City.

"Of course, dear," Holly says. "I didn't have in mind Jason using them for some kind of cloak-and-dagger rescue operation. They're designed to defend our important buildings."

"Oh, well, would it be okay if I maybe replaced them with IronGrip Security logos?" Tracy asks, in her innocent-suggestion voice.

"IronGrip was behind the attack according to Desoto's PDA ... and he has a prostate the size of a grapefruit," crackles Jason's voice over the computer system. "Anyway, IronGrip hired them to capture Randall and Mara. So, the suggestion of using the logos is a decent one, actually. I fully intend to bring them hell on earth around 1 am. Making them think they're betrayed is a lovely idea."

Tracy smiles proudly. "And the self-destruct charges will take care of any evidence linking them back to Avatars!" she adds.

Holly rolls her eyes. "Mark would give you any number of reasons why falsifying corporate identifications is an offense that could result in prison time and severe fines. But do try to keep in mind, honey, I sent those robots over because I am very concerned about your safety. If you blow those robots up, it's not going to help that very much, is it?"

"I never get to blow anything up," Tracy mutters. "Okay, I guess we can make sure to retrieve the robots. Is Akiko someplace safe now, do you know?"

Cadena says, drily, "I am also concerned about the casual destruction of Avatars LLC property."

"She's under guard of Eagle Security," Jason notes, "So relatively safe I believe. I'll know more when I meet her tonight at seven."

"Meet her?" Tracy asks. "You got a date? I guess I'll save the filet mignon for after the rescue then.."

"It's not a date! Not really. I'm just collecting the remains of my clone's corpse," Jason claims over the com.

"What?!" Tracy asks, sounding shocked. "Why? I mean.. never mind! Not my business," she says. "I've got a memory chip from the PDA of one of Sasha's goons too for you to look at. Hurry home!"

"Long story. I don't think the remains are real. I suspect the clone is part of this mess," Jason complains, "And I am hurrying! You would have seen me earlier if you had been a good girl and been properly captured! Instead I spend the past couple hours in a panic, thanks. I swear. Kids."