Job 2: On the Trail of the Bloodhound

Kolya sits in a tiny cafe, looking out at the rainy street in an old section of Monteria. You're not certain you've ever seen the sun on Genoa from the ground, between the omnipresent rain and the smog. It doesn't really matter, you're not here for sightseeing. Between the warring megacorps, the civil unreast, and the gang violence, there's no shortage of bounties to bring in. A particularly lucrative mark caught your eye earlier today.

Yuri Delacroix, age 37.
Private detective, formerly of Bloodhound Inc.
Wanted dead or alive for theft of proprietary technology.
25,000 credits, stolen object must be returned.

You found a contact who claims to have information pertaining to his whereabouts. Once you transferred the credits, he gave you a location to meet in person. Typically this sort of business could be conducted over digital communication channels, but the contact was very particular about not transmitting the information remotely. That's why you're sitting in a cramped auto-cafe in lower Monteria surrounded by starving artists and university students. The robotic barista machine hisses and spits out a cup of espresso as a new customer enters. He wears a full face respirator with a tinted glass face plate hiding his features. He is dressed in loose fitting dark clothing and wears a voluminous army-green overcoat adorned with dozens of pockets. The new arrival notices you and makes his way to your table, sitting down across from you and setting down the book he was carrying. "Kolya?" he says, confirming your identity. A small conveyor belt encircling the room delivers the cup of espresso to your table. Your contact takes off his respirator to take a sip of the drink; you can see that he is a fairly young dark skinned man, but his eyes are sunken and tired beyond his years. "Hey man, sorry about the fuss, but we gotta do this in person. Can't talk over the feeds, they're all owned by corps, you know?"

Kolya enters the auto-cafe and to his surprise finds that his favourite table is free: located in a corner by the window, good view of all the entrances and the outside, with all the privacy. He sits down and orders an espresso. "Damn auto-cafes. People always call the TL-2 worlds barbaric, but a least there you get service from an actual person", he mumbles, staring outside into the rain, while the robo-barista brews the drink.

The door opens, a little bell chimes, as if a waiter would have to be notified about the new arrival. "Ironic", Kolya thinks. The person entering is dressed in generic clothing hiding as much as possible of him or her. This is him, Kolya knows. The new arrival makes his way toward Kolyas table, casually placing a book on the table. The agreed upon sign that it's him and that he is not being followed - a good start.
"Kolya?", he starts and continues, "Hey man, sorry about the fuss, but we gotta do this in person. Can't talk over the feeds, they're all owned by corps, you know?"

"Martev, my friend, good to see you. The weather here is really not doing you any favors. Sun light, you should try it some time...", Kolya starts, with a wink. "Don't tell me about the feeds, my folks set up half of them, trust me, I know how it is. Gets my tin-foil hat buzzing every time. Frankly, I prefer the personal connection myself, just brings other risks.
Anyways, I am sorry, I don't have much time. I need to get of this rock and don't want to end up looking like you.", he continues, with a grin.
"I read about this Yuri character, 25 large? What did this guy do, or is he really that dangerous? Can you tell me anything about him? And what is that stolen object? They tend to be, how do I put this, ... delicate..., when descriptions are this vague. What will I get myself into?"

Martev shakes his head, and speaks with a subtly Jamaican accent. "Yeah man, job got lot a credits on the line but not a lotta info. I've met the man though, he cleaned me out in a game of cards at the Fifth Ace a while back. He's stone cold, man. One of those fucking strikebreaker thugs. If its Bloodhound that wants him, I bet that has something to do with that massacre that went down in the eastern exurb. Seems to be he stole something from the research lab that went on strike. Don't no what that might be, but apparently the thing it so distinctive it needs no description, and so dangerous that the corp doesn't want to name it." He laughs and takes a sip of his drink. "Hell of a lot of credits though. Anyway, I've got a lot of friends in the casinos. There was a whole big fight down at El Rey a couple hours ago, one of them recognized Mister Delacroix as one of the fighters. Your mark left pretty quickly, but not before breaking some skulls. My friend said it was a red Peregrine brand gravcar he drove."

Martev leans in close. "Now don't tell anybody, but a friend of mine was a tech at that lab before the Bloodhounds shot him. He was Neo-Catholic, and he told me one time how he didn't feel right about what they were doing at that place. On a... moral level I think he meant. I'd watch out handling the thing if I were you." Martev leans back. "That's all I've got for you my friend. Happy hunting!" He picks up his paperback novel from the table and settles into his seat to read.

Character Knowledge:

Stone cold, strikebreaker, broke skulls, Yuri seems to check all the boxes for Kolyas kind of targets. Martevs intell was worth its price, as usual, but it left questions to be answered. However, once Martev digs into his signature book Kolya knows that is it what he will get from him.
"Take care my friend, stay out of those money-pits and catch some sun, will you? Hope to see you again soon." Kolya says getting up and heading for the exit. He senses that tingling feeling kreep up his spine - the hunt was on. He had a lead, the El Rey, and he would have to get there as soon as possible. But preparation was everything in his line of business and the hasty never lasted long.
He heads back to the docks, remembering there was a terminal there. While on the move he pulls out his compad and opens his query scrambler and starts preparing queries for the feeds. The scrambler would send his queries all over the feeds, bouncing the signal between servers until it became impossible to trace back to him in reasonable time. One of the more convenient programs he wrote, back in the day. Of course back then he was looking for other things, but it became one of his most important tools in his current line of work. Hopefully it would work on the local instance of the feeds. Depending on the level of customizations the scrambler might simply not get responses, then he would have to improvise.
His first query was about the location of the El Rey and the fastest way to get there. The second about the building. He knows he will not find the building plans, but maybe he could uncover information about back entrances, size of the place, security and such. He is about to pack the compad in his pocket when he hesitates and pulls it back out. It is a long shot and maybe unrelated, but he puts in another query for the massacre in the eastern exurb. Kolya stows away his pad and hastens his step.
Once he reaches the docks he heads straight for the terminal. He is lucky, noone is using it, he will not have problems. He stands close in front of the terminal, pulls out his pad and the connection cable, old school, but reliable and couldn't be hijacked, secretly opens the support connector on the side of the terminal and connects his pad. Then he taps around on the terminal to not raise suspision.
The queries would either return in a few moments, or the would not at all.

Query results came back quickly. The address to the El Rey and images of the outside first. Its perhaps a 45 minute walk from your current location, or about a 5 minute grav-taxi ride. The building itself appears to be a simple, medium sized two story box, with not many windows. Certainly not an upscale casino, but appears to be a respectable establishment. A glowing sign depicting a mustachioed king counting his gold hangs above the front door. No other entrances are visible from the front, though you know establishments like these usually have at least one back door for kitchen staff or patrons wishing discretion. A breaking news story pops up next. Shooting at El Rey casino, 5 dead, at least 4 injured. No other details in the article yet.

The massacre in the eastern exurb happened three days ago. Tech workers were striking at an R&D lab for several days before Bloodhound Inc detectives arrived on scene. Every striking worker in the building was killed, an unusually brutal response even on a corporate hellhole like Genoa.

OOC- Make some rolls:

His little script worked like a charm, Kolya realizes with a satisfied grin.
The massacre seems not to be directly linked to his current task at hand, not in a way that would help finding this guy anyways. Maybe something to come back to, after his job.
Having received the essential data, "where to" and "how", Kolya decides to spare a few more moments to try to tap into the less official feeds. Finding the feeds is usually less of a problem, but they tend to be secured and would need to be hacked into. If he had more time this would be an easy thing to do, but there was no time to plan a proper hack. He can only try to shake a few trees and see what falls out.

You let the program dig a little further. It dredges up more information on Yuri Delacroix. Social media. Home address. Grav car registration for a blue JSI-brand sedan. You run a facial recognition scan on his social media. This brings back a second social media profile belonging to a 30 year old xenoarcheologist named Priya Bosque. She doesn't appear in any of Yuri's pictures but Yuri appears in a lot of hers, they seem to be romantically involved. In a few seconds the program has her personal information as well: address, degree from the University of Monteria, registration for a red Peregrine grav car.

The facial recognition also finds a handful of photos of Yuri, apparently from professional card tournaments. The pictures appear to be taken at the El Rey, Denis's, and the Fifth Ace.

Your program finds a coroner's report, posted only minutes ago. The press probably hasn't even noticed it yet. Five recent deaths. One is the manager of the El Rey, cause of death laser-ballistic trauma. The other four are all freelance detectives and strikebreakers, similar to Yuri. Their causes of death are a combination of blunt force trauma and exsanguination.

The program can't find any other information on the lab in the eastern exurb. It looks like its owned by a shell company, owned by a shell company, owned by another shell company. Its not mentioned in any other news articles. To figure out who owns it would take days to weeks of piecing together financial records.

A wide grin shows up on Kolyas face. The extra minutes for the deeper dig were well invested, he just saved himself a stop. Red Peregrine grav car. It caught his attention already when Martev mentioned Yuri having left in it. Something had been off. But now it made sense and Kolya has a strong suspicion were Yuri might be hiding. Obviously he went through great lengths to hide his relationship with this Priya person and now he was seen in her car: that must be his hiding spot until he skips planet.

No time to lose, a target on the run seldomly stayed in one place for long. If he left the El Rey a few hours ago, he might just still be at his girlfriends.

Kolya pulls up the application to hail a grav-taxi, punches in Priyas address and starts making his way to the pickup spot indicated in the application. Luckily there are plenty taxis waiting at the docks, so his taxis is already ready, when he reaches the street. He jumps in and the grav-taxi speeds off. Thanks to automated vehicles he has a few moments of privacy, so he pulls out his trusted semi-automatic and checks the magazine: full, it hadn't been used in a few days and he makes a habit of cleaning and restocking the gun frequently. He holsters the gun, pulls out his monoblade from the backpack and attaches the sheath on the back of his belt. Then he takes a deep breath. Nothing left to do but wait until the arrival. The calm before the storm. There is that tingling feeling in his spine again...

By the time your taxi arrives at the destination the rain has stopped, but the tops of the tall buildings surrounding you are still obscured by a smoggy haze. The vehicle has taken you in front of a stone apartment building. This building looks old, built with some thought given to aesthetics, unlike the prefabricated habs that the megacorps churn out for worker tenements. As you approach the front door, you see a digital keypad for accessing the building as well as a button labeled "Front Desk". A camera overlooks the entryway above the keypad. The door itself is glass a beyond you can see an empty foyer and a small, glass enclosed front office that is currently unoccupied.

"Let's call that plan B", Kolya thinks and turns his focus away from the main entrance, heading for the alley. Checking carefully for Priyas car or for Yuri, he heads down the alley.

OOC:

Kolya walks to perimeter of the building. Nothing out of the ordinary in the alley, same old filth you'd find anywhere else. There's a door to a fire exit on the side and on the back, both locked from the inside. A couple drain pipes lead past several windows all the way up to the roof, climbable if you feel particularly daring. Circling around, you enter the garage. Sound echoes off the plain concrete walls, and you hear someone moving around talking a level above you. Creeping carefully up the stairs, you peek out of the stairwell to see two figures loading bags into a red Peregrine grav car. You can see Priya's face as she places a suitcase in the back seat. She carries a satchel close to her chest. Her tall, dark haired male companion stands with his back to you, also placing something in the back seat on the other side. He wears a long coat with the collar turned up and seems to be wearing a full face respirator.

OOC:

Kolya edges forward until he is sure it is Yuri. Nobody has noticed him and he has a clear shot. Kolya stabilizes himself on his knees and pulls out the semi-automatic. Slowly and as quietly as possible he loads a bullet into the chamber and lifts up the gun to aim.

He takes his time to focus on Yuris movements, trying to anticipate his next moves. Kolya is noone for a direct kill without need, so he aims for the shoulder. That should disable Yuri from firing back or placing any kind of attack.

Kolya calms his breath and pulls the trigger. A loud bang rings through the garage echoing from the far wall and off the low ceiling...

At the last possible second, Yuri moves out of the way. Kolya's shot echoes deafeningly in the garage, grazing Yuri's shoulder and ricocheting off the far wall. Yuri spins around, the lights from the ceiling glinting off his respirator's mirrored faceplate. From under his coat he produces a sturdy snub nose revolver. "PRIYA, START THE FUCKING CAR!"

Kolya sees Yuri whirl around, his should barely scratched. Hastily Kolya fires another round using what little of his surprise advantage is left. The shot goes wide, shattering one of the car's windows.

Yuri's revolver roars its retort as he takes cover. The force from the shot nearly sends Kolya reeling, but the bounty hunter keeps his composure.

Priya cries out in panic and dives for cover. She climbs into the drivers seat and the grav car hums to life.

Nearly blinding pain pulses from wherever Kolya is hit. But there is no time to think where the wound is, or whether it is bad. Kolya lifts his gun again and tries to pull all his concentration together once more. This one would have to hit, or the situation will slip away. Priya is already in the running car, not before long Yuri will jump in and they will drive off, making it all in vain. A loud bang, the bullet is on its way... This one will count...

Blood splatters on the car behind Yuri, this shot struck true. Recoiling in pain, Yuri fires back as he retreats in the grav car. Kolya's body armor absorbs much of the damage but he can feel the warm trickle of blood coming from his wounds.

Priya brings the grav car up in the air, turning so the taillights face Kolya. It looks like she's preparing to speed out of the garage.

Fire shoots up Kolyas left shoulder. This bullet went through the body armor, warm blood starts trickling down his left side.
"This guy is starting to really piss me off", Kolya grunts through his clenched teeth.

He fires another round at the accelerating car, aiming at where he believes the levitation electronics to be and darts out of his cover. Grinding his teeth, willing down the pain he sprints back towards the entrance of the garage, trying to cut off the escaping couple. If he manages to get off another round at Yuri, they might stop. Priya likely won't run with a dying boyfriend on the passenger seat.

Sparks fly from the vehicle's undercarriage as the bullet strikes the propulsion system. The car zips around the corner and down towards the exit. Kolya makes it down to ground level just in time to see the gravcar pull out into the street.

Heavily breathing Kolya storms onto the street. Distributing his weight on both legs, ignoring the throbbing shoulder, he lifts up the gun and fires. The bullet impacts on the passenger side of the windshield, blood spraying up on the interior of the glass. The car swerves wildly through the street briefly before it corrects its course. The engine roars as the car speeds low along the street, quickly breaking line of sight.

Kolya is left standing alone in the once again quiet night, smoke from his gun mixing with the smog.

A wave of disappointment washes over Kolya. Priya probably spiraled into panic mode, it will be very hard to predict her actions from here on. Unless she was behind the whole thing all along...

Kolya heads back into the garage, just to get out of sight and sits down on the bleak concrete. Time to take a quick breather and regroup. He would have to have his shoulder checked out. He hated this, because of all the questions whenever a gunshot wound needed treatment. "Does not look like I could argue that I fell", he mumbles to himself with a smirk.
On the upside, if Yuri survived that last bullet, they would also seek help. Likely not in a hospital - for the same reason as Kolya - but try to find a place that did not ask too many questions.

What would Priya and her hurt/dead companion do next? How to find her? Suddenly Kolya has an idea. Those social networks often had a "feature" enabled by default tracking the location of the users in order to provide "more suitable" ads and for "analysis reasons". Yea, right", grunts Kolya. But he could use this. If he managed to hack Priyas or Yuris account, he could possibly get a live location on the two. Unless they actually did opt out of the feature.
Alternatively he could check for patch up places in the area and take care of his shoulder and possibly find a shot up red grav-car out front... He got to work.

As Kolya sits on the cold concrete engrossed in his compad and calculating his next move, he hears a grav car set down outside. It sounds like a large group of people get out.

[Thread closed, Kolya can post in the main thread now]