sees the time and slips to the floor to try and rest

Deadeye Gun Range
"Bah gawd…" well, she looked at the new gun like it was a plot on a graph, somewhere on the risk/reward curve. The awkwardly muffled noise of their voices through the digital hearing protection like a grainy high-pass filter under the faint noise of other shooters firing downrange. "Way too hot to sell to some western Europeans, you know what I mean? We see a picture of that over at Rezekne and I can almost guarantee your army friend is gonna feel the heat. On your left."

Holly edged forward and collected her rifle to put back into her bag, as not to leave the station too cluttered and dangerous.

"…well that's one thing I hate to hear: 'beyond our control', even if it's true. I think step 1 if she makes contact is to try and guess what her ultimate goal is, and see if we can find a way she gets what she wants that circumvents whatever part she thinks she's gonna have us play."

Backing off from the station and to the loading table behind it, she started to slot the 277 fury rounds into some of your spare mags.

"…the scope even done being developed? No way the gangbangers and Famiglia types that buy your gear even want this shit. I'm used to customers who want volume of largely midpack metal that they're gonna hand out to their soldiers, and maybe some stupid gold-plated liberacé lookin'-ass AK or something for himself, not serious weaponry…"

Because some gripman with a snubnose scares a gas station worker into compliance just the same. Longarms like this with scopes and furniture, whenever that featured in the news it was for a different kind of crime altogether. A result that she continued to fear having a part in.

She considered what you spoke of last, some contingency with sea or air vehicles. "You want me to introduce you to my Mexican contact?"

Fenix Arsenal
"Ah. We usually stayed away from the coast growing up. Arasaka ships will open fire on anything that looks nomad if they see it." At least that's what he's heard.

He chuckles at you being thankful. Arms working, his own fingers splitting the ends for his microtools to extend so he can start stripping away unnecessary parts from the transponder.

"Let's see. Near the coast. Vandenberg. I think that's still Folk Nation territory? Some drinking water and a few songs in trade would've defused any problems." Echo's knowledge was outdated, but it was once vast regarding the desert nomad cultures.

His arms finish welding the last few components together before lifting the newly built aerial drone over his head and holding it above his multi-tool hands. So that he can slot the important parts of the transponder right into the underside.

"Apprentice? I don't know, I've never thought about it. What would that mean, exactly?"

Echo flips the drone on and his extra arms release it. Leaving it to hover silently about 5 feet above the floor. He checks the signal coming off of it. A-10. Perfect.

Yay...continued prayers for healing.

Of course!

thighs wide open
as she was told

street is very quiet
just a little movement in the dim light

the sort of whore who is desperate or just very kinky
to satisfy my dirty, perverted needs

looking for some nasty action
wonder if there are any young streetwalkers around

drives through slowly

Fenix Arsenal
Right? If their great-grandparents and great-greats hadn't been so selfish... Not that more recent generations of her family have been much better. But if she gets caught up in that guilt spiral she'll get stuck in it. No, better to focus on the business at hand.

She takes up a lean against the wall, watching as you study the transponders.

"Vandenberg. Little further west, toward the coast. Little less scoured-over."

It must have been beautiful a few generations ago.

"No, we were left alone, thankfully."

She watches the arms with fascination. You are giving her some ideas here. She's a scrubber out of necessity but Making Stuff is the true passion.

"You don't need an apprentice, do you?"

She blurts out the question, purely on impulse.

Deadeye Gun Range
"That's right.." They were still being tested, but he's pretty sure they're rolling them out this year. The legit M4 carbine replacement for the military. "I just may..."

Said evasively, but he grins. "I just went through some old contacts of Diego's and I that we hadn't talked to in a long time. Turns out one of them went on to larger and more dangerous acquisitions .. so I called in a favor."

Alejandro won't mind the looks, though he's obviously not going to be answering any questions.

"Oh, a hundred percent." He appears to be in agreement, nodding along with you as we move to the interior. He'll do much of the same as you, readying for the onslaught of firing coming from within. He keeps his eyes on you so he doesn't miss anything you say accidentally.

"I do. But that's still beyond our control if she wants us to do something stupid or suicidal."

He shrugs, and opts to go to where you had likely been set up yourself, and you already know he's going to set your Mk47 aside so he can open the duffel and unveil that newest model Military rifle.

"I wanted to get the Fire Control Smart Scope too .. but I thought that might be too much to ask for right now. One thing at a time, you know?"

He starts putting it together, piece by piece. And while it wasn't necessarily taken completely apart, it does take him a little bit to carefully attach everything, including the Sig Sauer suppressor.

"Honestly..." He holds it up, looking down the sights and toward the ground of the range ahead of him. "... I want to have a boat or chopper ready to pick Lilou and I up within an hour should I need it for some reason. New documents, names. You know the drill..."

New identities.

presents itself

While I am here might as well check
the training tapes

Fenix Arsenal
He can neither mentally confirm nor deny that kind of self-satisfaction. But Echo is definitely lighter on his feet and appears well-rested right now.

"Yeah, it's hot as hell outside today." He should go back in time and punch his great-grandparents for ignoring climate change back when something could've been done about it.

With your signal, he uses his real hands (which are actually cyberware) to open the box. While his mechanical arms all bend backward to lay their weapons on the bench behind him.

"Hmmmmm." Echo pulls one transponder box out of the crate and has a look at it. His eyes turn black as his optics switch to Engineering Mode. Turning the older piece of tech over a few times. He notices some sand grains here and there.

"You get these from Edwards?" That's the ruin he usually delved into for aerial parts. "Did you run into any other nomads?"

They are fun. And right now, they're bending backward again. Moving the guns off the bench and pulling parts from various shelves and boxes to assemble a drone to hold the object in his hand.

Careful. I farted... Uh, a little. Like a squeaker, really. Not girly or nuttin... But you know, a sort of eeeeeeek kinda fart.
Anyway, easy on the inhaling toots.
Unless yer into that kinda thing.

relaxes in the booth
sipping my drink, swirling the ice around

Careful. I farted... Uh, a little. Lime a squeaker, really. Not girly or nuttin... But you know, a sort of eeeeeeek kinda fart.

Anyway, easy on the inhaling toots.
Unless yer into that kinda thing.

Stopping in to pick up some folders I left that were sent from
Qatar.. the Sheik there