The plan: with a week to complete the work or become targets ourselves, we decide the best course of action to take him in transit would be to work out the transit route while, at the same time, stake out the end points and get to know his pattern a bit. Annie takes off in her car en route to Nesmith’s abode. In the meantime, Moses heads off to pick up his new uniform so that he can report for his “new job” tomorrow at Horizon Wiretech as part of their first-shift security detail.
Annie, following the address we received from the Johnson, stakes out the house. Parking her car at a nearby 24-hour diner, she walked over to his nondescript, ranch-style house, and started sneaking around the bushes and peeking in to the windows. From what she saw, he was the typical bachelor: half-drunk beers, messy, pornographic “Tusk ‘n’ Titties” sim-synth strewn about. Unfortunately, she didn’t notice until after-the-fact the camera mounted on the soffit of the house.
As a Knight Errant patrol car drove by, shining its spotlight around the property, Annie attempted to hide in the bushes. When discovered, she played the whole thing off like she had just woke up in the bush, just having come-to after a killer party. Her line was good enough that the officer bought it, even offering her a ride home if she wanted. She declined and went back to her vehicle. From what she could see, there didn’t appear to be anything of merit from what she could find at Nesmith’s house that we might be able to use as leverage.
The next morning, Moses reported to the Horizon Wiretech security desk and clocked in for his first, and only, day of work. Figuring out the layout and his route, he made sure to walk by Nesmith’s desk and drop a subvocal mic near his desk to listen him drone on and boast about, mostly, nothing important to anyone but Nesmith. He didn’t appear to be contributing much, if anything, of value. His claptrap made for great sleep-inducing music. However, not willing to ride out the whole day and not be able to follow him afterwards, Moses looked into getting a Horizon Wiretech official tracer tag for Nesmith’s car, so Moses spoke to his supervisor about getting a tag. The supervisor said it needs the approval of a higher-level manager. Moses gave the supervisor the name of the Johnson who was smart enough to provide us his actual phone number. The supervisor approved it and handed it over with directions to Nesmith’s vehicle and the make and model of the vehicle. Moses placed the tag in the wheel well of the driver-side front tire, activated the tag, and then took down the tag ID before serving out the rest of the day as fake security.
Dialing up Annie, Moses explained that he tagged Nesmith’s car, but he can’t track it himself as he doesn’t have the ability to crack the encryption on the tag to access its signal. Annie suggested that we hire a decker. A solid idea, so Moses dialed up his fixer Ray Bones. Bones knew a guy he could get us in touch with, so we set the meet to be early evening at a MacDuffy’s near the Horizon Wiretech HQ so we can keep an eye on Nesmith.
On the second floor of MacDuffy’s open to the street, Annie and Moses sat waiting for their newest team member to arrive. When he arrived, Sp3xx introduced himself as the man for the job. Giving him the tracer tag ID, Sp3xx acquired the signal and patched it over into Annie’s and Moses’s commlinks. Proof enough for everyone, and he was willing to work for cheap until we got paid; we had no choice but to hire him. Piling into Annie’s car, we followed Nesmith’s car once it left his corps’s parking lot.
Sp3xx proved more than useful: as we tailed Nesmith from his work, Sp3xx was able to hack into Nesmith’s car radio and eavesdrop on his conversation with some escorts. Nesmith was apparently driving to Bellevue to meet a couple of orc escorts named Candy and Sandy at the Silver Fools night club. This slightly complicates our plan in that, if he isn’t going home, it might be hard to take Nesmith in transit. However, we decide to keep tailing him.
The drive would have been uneventful had it not been for some sprawl gangers on motorcycles terrorizing the drivers on I-5. They came up on us quickly, and we fired back on them. Annie put the car into autopilot while she plugged one of them, who backed off. Sp3xx took over a motorcycle and drove it over the side of the overpass. The other ganger decided he didn’t want to take on us alone and took off.
When we arrived at the Silver Fools, we decided it would be best to park in the parking garage across from the club and figure out our way in to follow Nesmith.