An elderly gentleman reading from a handheld datascreen.

He is sitting at a large desk, amid a number of other datascreens and papers. A golden nameplate sitting near the front of the desk proclaims the desk’s owner to be one Senator Robert S. Jackson.

The desk is in a good sized office, perhaps six meters deep by nine meters long; windows run down the long side of the office, behind the desk. Slightly silvered, the windows reflect some of the office and a little of the nighttime city outside. Floor to ceiling bookshelves frame the windows along short sides of the office. A dozen or so empty chairs surround the desk, as if for a meeting that had ended or not yet begun.

Senator?

Yes, Sarah?

There are some people from the Cerberus Group here to see you.

Oh? I wasn’t expecting them quite this early. Go ahead and send them in.

A second or two passes and then the door opens. A woman (human, professionally dressed, late-thirties), Sarah, opens the door and steps aside. A group of people starts to enter the room, led by an older gentleman (mid-to-late fifties) in a tres chic suit. Something about his almost military manner, leaves no doubt as to the fact that he’s the leader of this group (think Louis Gosset Jr in "An Officer and a Gentleman"). Behind him comes a heavily cybered male troll, a female elf physical adept, a suavely dressed human with the look of a con man, and an ogre gentleman who moves with the grace of a physad. A moment later enters an Amerind shaman who looks like he has the patience of stone contrasting sharply with the flamboyantly dressed Wakayambi mage next to him. A human rigger comes next followed by an exceedingly buff human who doesn’t seem to move so much as he seems to flow into the room, and lastly a slim raven-haired human woman in a tres-chic black suit and glasses who answers to the call-sign "Cipher"..

Will there being anything else tonight, Senator?

No, Sarah. You can take off, once I’m done here I’ll have a couple of loose ends to wrap up and then onto home. Could you give Jesse a call and let him know to have the limo ready to pick me up in about...

We shouldn’t need more than an hour of your time, Senator.

...in about ninety minutes or so.

Very good, Senator. Good night.

The grop arranges itself in the chairs around the Senator’s desk with the exception of the Ogre physad who goes to the bar and starts mixing a drink (a martini, very dry, with a twist; shaken, not stirred).

We don't want to keep you too late, Senator. Here’s the complete data dump on the mission. Any details that don’t get covered in this debrief should be there.

Of course. And this one?

I’ve laid some of the groundwork for the next mission. If you would look it over and get back to me with your thoughts I can prep things for the next stage.

Very Good. We have to be very careful how you approach this Tiphares Consortium.....

Sir, not everyone here is cleared for that information.

Of course, you’re right. We’ll discuss that another time. Now what did you find out about this situation in Buffalo....

We see the elf physad, who we shall call Nikita, sitting in a chair. She appears to be of eastern European descent, dark hair, light complexion, apparently between 25 and 30 years old. She’s relaxed, listening to the conversation but disinterested. Behind her in the window we see the dark reflection of the office with Wren and the Senator talking at the desk, but nothing of the city lights can be seen.

Nikita suddenly looks up, alert. She looks over at the mage and shaman, and noticing that they have the same relaxed but disinterested look that she wore a moment ago, her look changes to one of concern. As she opens her mouth...

<Thooptt> A metallic object the size of a softball sails through the window (which strangely enough, ripples like a puddle of water), hits the top of the desk and explodes. <Baboom>

Segments of wire flying out from the blast cut into and through Senator Jackson, what falls back into the chair and wall behind isn’t recognizably human any more.

The blast catches Wren full across the face and chest, practically decapitating him. Wren flies up and backward crashing into the mage carrying them both down onto the floor.

All the members of the group catch some portion of the flak, as does the decor, but no one else seems to be dead or incapacitated.

<Thooptt> <Thooptt> Two more mono-filament softballs splash through the window; one hits the bookshelf behind Nikita and explodes dropping her, the troll (Hammer), and the suit guy (Gabriel). The other ball heading for the "south" side of the office, comes in low, clips the Senator’s chair, and blows up under the desk. The force of the blast flips the desk over onto Wren’s body, further pinning the mage who gets clipped in the head by a falling paperweight.

Quick, get the mage!

The samurai (Steel) grabs the corner of the desk and lifts it up off of Wren and the mage. Cipher grabs the blood drenched mage and drags him out. The ogre physad (Payne) grabs the rigger (Shamrock) by the collar and pushes him towards the door they came in by.

Move it, we’ve got to get out of here!

He then starts toward the downed team members on the other side of the office…but before moving more than a couple of steps a group of shadowy figures splash through the window. Wearing some kind of stealth suits, the figures appear as shimmering transparent humanoid shapes (imagine the Predator armor but with a slower refresh rate, the distortion is much more apparent when they move).

The first two figures appear to have pistols drawn and fire single shots into the bodies on the floor. The third figure fires two shots at the ogre (net 3 successes on first shot, 2 on the second; Payne has at least 4 points of armor, so the shots do no damage). The fourth figure takes two shots at Shamrock (net 3 successes on the first shot, four on the second; three points of armor, gives the shooter one hit; which Shamrock shrugs off).

The fifth figure tosses a softball sized object at the folks over by the mage but the samurai manages to knock it right back with rather exciting results....

<Sproing><Crack><Sproing><Snap><Squish> The ball explodes like a really large, highly compressed clock spring, with bands of (apparently) razor sharp metal whipping out and around before snapping back with unfortunate consequences for anyone standing within a couple of meters of it... like, for instance, the fifth guy. With a <crackle><zot> the stealth suit burns out... leaving a plainly dead, seriously cut up, commando type on the floor.

This excitement also gives the others in the group a chance to get through the door the shaman (Stone) managed to open, with the Physad and Cipher dragging the unconscious mage along. As the rigger passes the shaman he pulls something from his pocket and slaps it into the lock mechanism.

Keep them off my back for a sec!

Stone casts a manaball from the doorway back into the office which seems to give the shadowy figures a moments pause. Meanwhile the rigger seems to be working on placing something in the door jamb

Got it! Close the door!

As the door closes, the rigger pulls a strip of plastic of the door jamb and when it shuts there’s a short flash, a burning sound, and a nasty chemical smell.

Chemistry, ya gotta love it.

Steel moves through the empty reception room to the door, opens it a crack to look down the hallway (deserted) and then opens it more fully to look the other way (also deserted).

That door can’t hold for long and there might be another way out. The hallway is clear, so let’s move!

As the group goes out into the hallway, there is the sound of several doors clicking shut.

Freeze! Hold it right there.

The wall behind the security officer seems to ripple, as shadowy figures move away from it and become somewhat visible. The officer goes down in pieces after being hit with what appears to be several monofilament whips.

Other way! Move!

The hallway ends in an emergency push door. The group goes through the door (no alarm sounds) and onto a stairway landing. The door shuts and shudders as a group of the shadowy figures reaches it.