Dian's Diary

The necessity of keeping track of a hundred years of memories has made writing some of it down vital. Of course, it wouldn't do to have such a diary fall into enemy hands and be used against us, so its even more important to keep any such text vague say nothing specific, but still be sufficient to trigger the relevant memories in those who were there.

Opening Gambits

Dear Diary,
Its been an interesting week, for once. It all started with “Abraham” calling for a meeting up at “Alpha SH”. Apparently, one of his handlers had a job for us. If only it had been that mundane.

As it turned out, it wasn’t a mere handler that was waiting for us at “Alpha”. The head honcho of “Abraham’s” “branch” had shown up in the flesh. He wanted us to help him recover a “lively jewel” as the damn thing was supposed to be the death of him. It goes without saying that it was unusual to say the least that a man of his standing would be so frank with us, and we all figured he’d have to be lieing about some of it. But he offered us a fockton of cash for it, and warned us that he’d sent other junior groups after it as well. I figured we wouldn’t have a chance in hell of finding it ourselves, but with enough players in the game it doesn’t really matter who finds it, as long as we’re the ones to deliver. So I voted for taking the job.

Its not particularly easy to figure out where to start looking for a “jewel” no one’s seen for five hundred years, and no one really knows if the damn thing even exists. I asked Mike to keep an ear to the ground for any long standing black market gold deals. “George” went down to the library to research the history of the thing and came back with a printed internet page about it. Figures. “James” challenged me to a chess game so he’d be able to clear his mind about what lay ahead. His sources implied that there may soon be a warrant out for me, thanks to the bent constables in this city. “Abraham”, who had the most on the line for this mission, took the only reasonable action he could, and went to sleep.

Long story short, we figured out we’d need an old book if we were going to pull this off, and “George” did some computer wizardry to give us an idea of where we’d be able to find the book. “James”, “Abraham” and meself when to get it, and the current holder was kind enough to drop it into our hands after “Abraham” sweet talked it a bit.

Meanwhile, “the Professor” and “George” worked together on solving the impending constabulatory crisis. Between them, they implemented one of my better plans, and did their little part towards uncovering an international human trafficking ring in the process. The end results seems to be that the coppers’ monopoly of violence seems to be weakened somewhat and certain criminal elements have learnt a hard lesson about subtlety.

The book was a fascinating read, if a bit of a hygienics nightmare. It was full of interesting tidbits about life in the renaissance, as well as a wealth of trivia about life and medicine. “James” and “the Scotsman” went out sightseeing, with an eye towards getting an impression of how the town used to look. Thanks to their special perceptions, each in their own way, they managed to find the location we were looking for (and more).

Once “the Scotsman” and “the Professor” made it back to “Alpha” we decided we had to go after the “Jewel” as soon as possible. We’d have to be careful to avoid tipping our hand to the other groups looking for it, and we were already further ahead than we had ever hoped to be.

Getting in was easy enough. “Abraham” conjured up some hazmat gear for us, as well as buying some tools for the kind of stealth carpentry we’d need to get in.With “James” on point, and “the Scotsman” handling carpentry we managed to make it down without running into anyone. Except the local bouncer, who wanted to make sure we knew the basics of lab safety before it’d let us in. “George” was as usually prepared, with all manner of useful info stored on his phone, and “Abraham” and I were able to fill out the rest with a fair degree of accuracy. “James” did have to call a friend at one point, but otherwise we managed fairly well.

It was about then we figured out we’d been set up. The “Jewel” wasn’t here, and the lass that was in its place was nothing but a broken heart waiting to happen. She seemed a bit too demanding for my tastes, but “the Professor” got suckered in by her promises and agreed to help her out.

We got her out, despite a minor brawl with some stoned locals (we get to visit all the nice places). We had a fair guess about what kind of reception might be waiting for us outside, so figured we’d take the back door out. We took a cab back to “Alpha”, and ran into some trouble with a group of ladies who seemed to have been drowning their sorrows nearby. I can’t say I handled that wisely; it took me far too long to just firmly tell them to fock the hell of.

Back at “Alpha”, the client was already waiting for us and let us know what he really wanted all along was to win the heart of the lass who’d clung to “the Professor”. After a bit of haggling, we agreed on a price for our services, but not before the lass promised from the bottom of her heart that “the Professor” would be able to talk with her if he needed to. The client was very nosy about what had been going on, and admitted that he was testing our usefulness for later jobs. I’ve got a feeling this is far from over.

All your base

Dear Diary,
Our paycheck for that last gig arrived. Well, at least some of it. Specifically, a gentleman representing some sort of militant environmentalists had finished up acquiring “Beta” for us, an' he wanted us to see if it was good enough. Bit of a sickly fellow, I got the impression it was only good fortune that was keeping him on his feet.

“Beta” was pretty much all we'd been promised and more. Sensibly central, a spacious garage, plenty of friendly people all around. The local management aren't the most solidaric of folks, but then that just makes “Abraham” like 'em more. I made a friend of a fellow called Alex, who's having some problems at home and with a focking stressful job. Meanwhile, “George” started chatting up some biochemists in his usual awkward manner. That guy seriously needs to get away from a computer screen once in a while.

“The Professor” did some looking into how the environmentalists had gotten us the place, while the “Scotsman” started getting the local management on board with our construction plans. Seems they'd had some kind of horrible collapse (with five dead), and most of the top floors needed reconstruction. We happen to know of a fairly skilled architectural office who could fix up the joint for cheap, so we naturally offered to lend them a Helping Hand.

The management took a whole lot of convincing. “The Scotsman” brought in a specialist, and hired a troupe of flunkies to make sure we looked the part. “George” did his usual computer wizardry to put together a slide-show for the presentation, “Abraham” paid for most of our expenses (as usual) and I made sure our equipment behaved itself. In the end, the management took our deal.

I mentioned the garage, but forgot to mention a neat little bonus we got. We've picked up a quartet of motor cars to go with the new place. We've got an old soviet clunker that's just barely keeping together (and we have no idea how). We've got a classic old luxury ride which is a bit more subtle than you'd think by looking at it. We've got an average mid-sized sedan, and something a bit more fitting with the rest of the place.

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