File: Deletion Block Number: 3 Block Name: Good Business is where you find it.... ........................................................................... Rem is forced to his knees. His leggings quickly saturate up to his thighs with the cold pungent water of the swamp. "GIVE US THE CODES!" roars an angry voice. Rem's brain still hasn't recovered from the shock of the situation and he mouth refuses to work. His eyes too are having trouble focusing... "Right cut him", commands the angry voice. "Right"...comes a reply from his left. Electronic, metallic & overpoweringly chilling. Sudden searing pain. Rem's mouth opens to utter a scream. His vision blurs and his mind plunges, gratefully, into the black pit of unconsciousness..... ........................................................................... "Do you mind if I smoke Mr But-ting-don?" asks Bryant politely, thus breaking the short period of mutual examination. "no" began Remington quietly, "*cough*..NO, not at all" he finished somewhat more confidently. Bryant slowly opens his large black briefcase & proceeds to remove a fat paper (paper?) wallet file, a box of cigerettes & a mobile phone of some kind. His actions are both meticulous & assured. The sunglassed man lights a cigerette, the tip burns a bright amber. The sunglasses provide a hard contrast to the formless whispy tobacco smoke issuing from his nostrils... "I hear a great many things about you Mr But-ting-don...", the corners of Bryants mouth curl up to form a smile, "they say you are a man who can get things done." The sweat on Rem's forehead is back, Rem can only utter a "..I..", before Bryant begins to speak again. "Is my data correct Mr But-ting-don?". Still smiling, Bryant tilts his head slowly to look at the guard behind Remington. There is a small nod and Rem swivels in his chair quickly only to see the armoured guard leaving the room. Rem turned back slowly to stare into those hard dark visors again. "I..", he began again. Bryant sucks on the cigerette. Another wispy cloud rises. "As you know Mr But-tingdon", begins Bryant, "I am the Sector Head of EBM's Business Enforcement Division....I have only recently been elevated to this position due to the sudden...demise of my predecessor." A trinkle of sweat slowly works its way down the back of Rem's neck. The cigerette burns amber again before Bryant continues... "We have a mutual enemy, you and I..that enemy was responsible for the recent "excitement" with your lady friend...a Miss Cleopatra Fagina I believe.......". The smile is back. Rem listens and Bryant continues to speak. "Arasaka.....the last obstable to EBM's global security monopoly is proving difficult to dis-lodge". Rem begins to relax just as Bryant nails him with a cold stare.. "I assume you have heard of the recent...SNAFU in Cuba?...and the subsequent.....'re-structuring'?" "I.." begins Remington again..the sweat is back. He looks into the dark hidden eyes of Bryant and attempts to articulate speech. Bryant breaks eye contact to stub out his cigerette. Rem watches the sunglassed man rise and move to the far wall. The sound of a lighter, a smoke plume rises from Bryant's head once again. With his back towards Remington, he continues to converse... "What do you know of the UN Space Elevator Programme Mr But-ting-don?" questions the smoking man. Rem's voice responds, seemingly of its own accord as his neuralware processor disects the information sent from his cybereye's Spectral Scan. "Space Elevator..isn't that something like a monofilment wire attached to an asteriod in orbit?" rattles off Rem's voice. Another plume of smoke rises above Bryant's head before he replies... "Yes..Mr But-ting-don...something like that" Bryants then provides a detailed lecture into the concepts of the Space Elevator, its construction, the location of the Socket end in Cuba..meanwhile Rem is informed by his cyberware that the wall in front of Bryant is fake. "..they say Mr But-ting-don that an elevator could open up the entire solar system for commercial activites, some of EBM's best economic AI's have simulations that predict a business boom as great as that caused by the Internet in the early part of the 21st century...." Rem instructs his cybereye to increase the scan's depth, what's behind the wall. "..it would seem Mr But-ting-don, continues the voice of Bryant," that the company controlling the Space Elevator would have a considerable business advantage...a cut of every transaction..." Rem is picking up lifeforms behind the wall, he will's his eye to greater intensity.. "..which is where you come in Mr But-ting-don" finishes Bryant. Suddenly standing before Rem...hard dark glasses locked in the direction of Rem's face. Rem's full attention returns with a jolt back into the dark sunglasses of Mr Bryant. "Me?.." begins Rem. The smile is back. "Yes, you Mr But-ting-don" replies Bryant as he stubs out the cigerette and reseats himself. He slowly begins to unravel the string on the wallet file as he continues to speak.. "We need you to go to Cuba Mr But-ting-don and ...correct something". Bryants pulls forth a wad of paper from within the file and begins to slowly flick thru the pile. "Correct somthing?" questions Remington. Bryants deliberations stop as he slides out a sheet of paper and put it's on the table. Rem looks across at what seems to be a photo of man face. In a deliberate & purposeful way, Bryant's right hand pushes the photograph towards Buttingdon and turns it 180 degrees.. "Do you know this man Mr But-ting-don?" asks Bryant quietly. Rem examines the photo and a moment later shakes his head. "He is one Edwardo Del La Vega...and he is the Minister for Internal Security in Cuba". "Cuba" utters Rem. "Yes Mr But-ting-don, Cuba", echos Bryant. "For the last few years now, EBM has been 'persuading' Mr Del La Vega to select the EBM tender for the Socket Security Contract. Mr Del La Vega had appeared quite willing to accept this 'persuasion'...until recently". Again the cold dark stare. "Apparently after taking 20 million Elmonits of EBM persuasion, our sources in Cuba inform us that Mr Del La Vega will be accepting the Arasaka Tender... this will not be allowed to happen...." finishes Bryant coldly. Here it comes thinks Rem. There's no going back now. "What we would like you to do Mr Buttingdon is to go to Cuba and 'change' Mr Del La Vega's mind.....permanently. Do you understand Mr B?" A nod from Remington informs Bryant that he does. Bryant continues. "The Socket Security Contract is announced on the 8th of August. You have until then to get Del La Vega out of the picture & destroy any contract information" Rem's mind leaps to performs the computations and potential risks involved in the endevour..Bryant continues speaking. "I am informed you recently acquired a CyberTeam that performed admirably during your recent run in with Arasaka...I would suggest taking them with you to complete this task" Bryant returns to the wallet file and begins to lay down documents... "A Mr Zeeeee, a capable, if unpredictable solo" "A European Netrunner, Mr Guy De Faut-euil" "A Japenese technician, a Mr Jimmy 'The Tech' Na-ga-saki" "A nomad warrior, a Mr Ruuuuud Kraac, a driver of sorts and whom if my security information is correct has left the country for a unspecified length of time...." "A European Musician, Ulrich Klinsmann, currently on tour in Alaska I believe" Bryant smiles once more before continuing. "A ex-police officer Mr Gonzelas, who is still in re-hab for another 2 months, & then to follow another 4 months of physiotheraphy." "A fixer Mr Rocksov, Currently wanted by the Police Authourities & has impressively 'disappeared' from even my sources" "Another ex-policeman, A Mr Tanglemangle, who is also wanted by the authorities & is also missing presumed lost". "and finally a Medic, Ms Lisa Knight" conludes Bryant as he lays the last document on top of the growing pile. "Do you think that will be enough?" questions Rem, "although the last operation was a sucess, you have seen that my squad also took severe losses." Bryant acknowledges the question with a deft nod before returning to the paper file. He takes out more documents. "EBM will draft in additional assets to bring your team up the recommend complement. A Pilot who speaks fluent Spanish, 2 Solos and another Netrunner. Your budget for this operation is E100 000 and this will include insertion into Cuba. The rest of the budget is yours to allocate as you see fit. Money you don't spend is considered your bonus if the mission is sucessful". Bryant lays down a satellite map of the Gulf of Mexico. A bony finger stabs down on a small isle off the coast of Southern Mexico. "You will be flying to Cuzumel Mexico Mr Buttingdon." "When" interrupts Rem. "Tonight" answers Bryant in a manner that indicates that negoiation isn't an option. "You will go in with a organization supplying guns to the guerillas fighting against the Cuban governement Mr But-ting-don" continues Bryant. "They will fly you to Cuba and land in the swamp wilderness southeast of Havana. There the Rebels will meet you. They will take the guns and get you to Havana. That is to be all your dealing with them. Understood" Rem nods again to confirm. Bryant close the file and looks into Rem's eyes. "Remember Mr Buttingdon, you are strictly on your own in Cuba. EBM will not accept any contact (personal) or via the Net. Any such occurences will be dealt as if EBM was being attacked by hostile cyber forces. EBM is not to be implicated in any shape or form with Mr Vega's demise." The sweat is back. "Your only method of contact will be to gain your extraction information. "I suggest you tell your squad as little as possible for their own saftety and ours. In the event, any of your team have the misfortune of being captured alive......well I hope under the circumstances you know what has to be done...." concludes Bryant. Rem looks into the dark sunglasses. Bryant reaches inside his briefcase and slides another mobile phone shaped device towards Rem, followed by single sheet of paper. Remington picks up and examines the device. A small durable QWERTY keyboard below a plasma display. The words "Set Password" flash on the display. Looking back at Bryant, Remington picks up the sheet of paper and scans the contents... LIQUIDATION CODES... Rem vision looks up into the dark visors of Mr Bryant. "...do you Mr But-ting-don?" Rem looks away and nods. Bryant smiles. "Goodbye and ....Good luck, Mr But-ting-don" concludes Bryant as he lifts his mobile phone type device and places it inside his jacket. Rem's eyes close..the blackness returns. ...............................................................................