JCC itt we talk like spies in a techno thriller

Listen. We don’t have much time. They traced the denialware package back to Prague. Project CREEP has been greenlighted. The Old Man is starting to get worried, and you know what that means for our deep moles within the CIA. Yes, not good newsz. We have activated our assets in Zagreb, Rio and Jerusalem and we will be going into Status Zeta-5. I want plausible deniability before your sanction Krustman, is that clear? Perfect cover. Pitch-black blankets all aboard the seaboard. Ask your friend over at the Commission for a full media blackout. It needs the be a clear hit: untraceable, zero tokens, no ballistics or chems. You are being assigned to the Ice Cream Crew for the time being and I expect you to be up to standards. Now go. We are going live in five.

Yes. He’s gone. He doesn’t suspect a thing. Activate Tindalos Protocol.

 

@Ramza @Darth Punk

 

Odie to Garfield. I got eyes on the Irish attache. Do I have go?

 

I repeat: do I have go? The package is getting off the grid and my window is closing fast.

 

Get some rest Pam.

You look tired.

 

*Gratuitous sex scene with supermodel/undercover spy*

 

Calamity Jacobs rolled out of bed with a sigh. It was only just past noon and the days problems were only going to get worse. The Marshall Law had been established to curb the nations epidemic of cybergangz, but really all it did was push the power further into the hands of the Technocrats. It wasn't an easy time being a neoanarchist, but Calamity was dedicated to the cause.

Calamity knew that the whole thing was going to a boiling point sooner or later. She glanced at her go bag tucked away next to the fire escape. Two laptops, her corporate code cracker, enough solar to last a week, a change of clothes and a big tub of Proteinz for food. And the sluggun. That one she had to be careful with, being seen with something like that would be an instant conviction and a 15 year vacation in the isocells.

She trundled over to her workstation. Six of her thirty-seven monitors were flashing. That wasn't good. Slipping on her fingerless gloves, she activated the system and began to pore her way through the reports her rig scraped from the government overlords.

A project title caught her eye, something called CREEP.

She took two of the coffepillz and waited for the last of the sleep to fade away. As the caffeine kicked in, she read her hacked files on Project CREEP. Her eyes got wide.

"Oh, stizz," she cursed. It looked like it was gonna be a long day after all.

 

Sorry for the delay, we had to confirm acceptability of potential collateral. You're green.

 

Roger, Garfield. Tell Robertson that the package is no longer active. We are headed back to LZ.

 

Damn it, JTS, you're a loose cannon, you've gone rogue, you're completely off the reservation, and if you ever touch my asset's package again, I will have you retired. I've got a wet-works team trained in krav MAGA awaiting a kill-order if you go off-mission or off-grid. You've not been the same since the Marrakesh Affair. It's tough to lose a team to Russian Cyber Death-Nuns, but it happens to everybody.

 

Dwhite Sh’hoot was halfway through his delivery run when the beeping started. The truck he drove was old - so old it still had tires made of rubber, and he was used to the electronics making all sorts of noises as they malfunctioned. No one even knew what half of them did and the other half did nothing, but it would cost Amazon more to remove them than to just tell their drivers the assorted alarm sounds were just a figment of their imaginations. He’d know several drivers over the years who had lost their minds and he was pretty sure the alarms were at least partially to blame. The cerebral implants they got seemed to help, but they weren’t the same afterwards.
It wasn’t until he picked up the package addressed to one “Calamity Jacobs” that he realized it was the package beeping and not his truck. He dropped it at the front door and deltaed out of there faster even than the corporate overlords expected him to work.

 

Banana Bread.

 

*Angrily points at the scrolling text on the monitor* What you don’t understand is that they’re not only attacking the server, okay? A child could attack the ****ing server. They’re distributing the attack over multiple untraceable pipelines in the dark web, alright? This makes onion routing look like a bunch of smoke signals. This is Mozart, man, and we’re Salieri and we’re holding our ****s in our hands.

 

C:\pooky> odie
C:\pooky> The Muppets are in Manhattan
C:\pooky> Penn Station dropbox 30 minutes

 

Scramble code 5 to Coruscant care of the old folks home.

 

2 - 1 - 18 - 19 - 15
1 - 20 - 14 - 6 - 11
8 - 13 - 22 - 11 - 14
19 - 20 - 8 - 13 - 1

 

*stares in disbelief*

Calamity. Calamity, are you getting this? We have a Double-B situation. Calamity?!

 

I think we've been breached by a sleeper and are now operating outside of mission parameters. It's time to go dark.

 

F.A.B.

 

Calamity raised her head with a start. The door. She wasn't expecting any guests. And now? Right now of all the times? She frowned. Something didn't feel right. She reached for the hiding spot under the desk and grasped the StunStik she kept there. It's weight was comfortable in her hands.

She padded to the door cautiously. She activated her portable terminal and checked the hallway camera feed. It looked clear. Taking a steadying breath, she grasped the knob and opened the door.

The hallway was empty save for the rumpled box at her feet. The box that was beeping. Her eyes went wide. It was here, finally! The Casio CA53W-1 calculator watch she had ordered months ago. Calamity was a fan of old Earther tech fashion and this piece was going to be the centerpiece of her collection. Her nerves sated, she scooped up the package and brought it in.

She set it down on the counter. The beeping was kind of annoying, but she would open it in a few minutes. She needed to finish the CREEP files first. She sat back down at her workstation.

The notification window in the corner of the screen was blinking. She clicked. A message from Amazon. "We regret to inform you your package has been delayed." The words were lead in her heart. Her eyes got wide and she shot a look back at the package she had brought inside. It was beeping faster.

Startled, Calamity sprung into action. Tucking the StunStik into her pants, she sprinted for her go bag and scooped it up. She didn't know how long she had. Seconds, maybe. Less?

She crashed though the plasglass window and tumbled over the side. She had been on the third story. Now she was falling. She curled up and relaxed her body. She hit the ground just as the explosion rang out, a fireball shooting through the window she had just crashed through.

One last thought went through her head before she lost conciousness: "Find Krustman."