“Thank you my friend.” He took the water and drank. When that exchange guys reply came, he fumed, tossing the capped bottle on the right seat. How dares this little punk? I'm risking my life for my team mates, trying to organize everything and he has the chutspe to make demands? Despite he felt insulted and his personal honour being questioned, his reply came with a foremost calm voice. But there was an obvious sharpness to it.
I have been in the blast zone. In fact, we have been there first. I got to the safe zone with only seconds to spare anyway. The reason? Not because I was looting but because I was saving two hurt team mates. He gave it a second to let sink in, then he continued. Which brings us to you, boy. Someone completely unknown who just pops in while we are under attack. You take the truck and drive off. For all I know, you are just a thief. Or maybe worse, you are an enemy. As for saving our hides, nothing points to that yet from my perspective.

It would be very wise for you to introduce yourself first. And if you are indeed our saviour, I will thank you in due time. Otherwise, I have to assume you are a threat and we will defend ourself against you. It is your choice.

Darkon shut off his mic. Over his shoulder he said to Spawn: “Kids these days.”

"The Metahuman's aura is telling me that he is growing angry." The Spirit reported to Sha'hGrim. Not the least bit surprising, given the situation, but the update further served as a reminder to her that the truck was still sitting there, on the side of the road, unmoving.
"Ahm; someone want to let me know what's going on with this guy? Remember: I can ask the Spirit to lock the doors just as easilly as to release the steering and gas." Sha'hGrim stated over her commlink channel. She was still following Darkon, and still really only capable of focusing on the task at hand.
"An update, please. You know... One or the other... Lock the doors, or release the Truck." Sha'hGrim added after a moment of consideration.
"I am conferring with my team. They have suggested that this Metahuman is not an enemy, but I am not certain that we trust him yet. I will let you know when they tell me." Sha'hGrim said to her Spirit, letting it know what she knew. Sha'hGrim had always been as forthright and honest with her Spirit companions, believing in some sort of Karmic relationship with them. Sha'hGrim didn't know, for sure, if the Spirits were always the same one, or perhaps that they communicated... It's so hard to tell with these things - and there are as many theories as there are traditions. Either way, Sha'hGrim felt that it was her duty to provide the Spirits with the best experience possible, working with her here on the Physical plane, if for no other reason than because she believed that she would want the same in the reverse situation.
"I understand. If he becomes any more hostile, I will lock him within me, thus protecting you from his anger." The Spirit responded.
"Oh, well, I appreciate that, but are you certain that's the best idea? Perhaps getting out of the Truck will be the best for his anger?" Sha'hGrim responded, growing concerned that the Spirit's suggestion may actually make the situation worse. Of course, she had offered that solution to the Team, but that was in the case that their communication with him broke down. The Truck was still the Team's spoils; as far as Sha'hGrim was concerned.
"I insist. I will not tolerate increased danger to you." The Spirit responded, making it's opinion clear. - Heh... Again with the intelligent Spirits. Sha'hGrim thought as the Spirit made itself heard.
"Very well. If that is what you believe is best." Sha'hGrim responded.

Darkon responded to Sha'hGrim: I will tell you as soon as this stubborn little scrap starts making sense. Until then, I'd say keep him locked in. Can you make sure he doesn't simply drive off?

"He really can't drive off right now. At least, not in the Military Truck. He could get out..." Sha'hGrim responded quickly.
"Ok. You win. My team is requesting that we lock down the vehicle for the time being. He may not be an enemy, but they're not certain if he is a friendly yet." Sha'hGrim sent to her Spirit. She knew he would be pleased that his assessment was correct. - And again, the brains of the Spirit never fail to impress... Sha'hGrim thought to herself, while at the same time castigating herself for having believed the best in the guy.
The locks on the doors of the Military Truck suddenly clicked down, audibly locking Rufus in to the Truck. Now to get out he would have to break through the Spirit-Enhanced Bullet-Proof-Glass windows. Or somehow overpower the Spirit, and pull the door-locks up. Strangely, it would actually be easier to overpower the Spirit. Although, even that was a tall-order for anyone who is not a Full-Strength Troll.
"It is done." The Spirit stated.
"And I am pleased that you agree with me. His anger is a risk to you. I was concerned that you asked me to tolerate a controllable risk." The Spirit added immediately after.
"Well, your assessment was correct. The team may still come to some sort of agreement with him, and I will let you know if they do." Sha'hGrim said, still somewhat holding out for Diplomacy. Her 'Runner history did not support a diplomatic solution, but her nature forced her to believe in one anyway. That was why she had shown up today for Spade. And despite how it had turned out, she would continue to look for the best in people. - Hope for the best; prepare for the worst. She thought to herself, slightly disappointed that this situation was starting to look more to the side of "The worst".
"Ok, the doors are locked. He's not going anywhere. At least, not without my say-so..." Sha'hGrim responded to Darkon. Darkon may not be entirely familiar with what it meant to have a Spirit inhabiting the Truck, but Sha'hGrim knew that it would take more than a Rocket Launcher to break open those windows.
"Just keep me in the loop, ok? I don't want my Spirit to be holding someone who's innocent for any longer than is absolutely necessary." Sha'hGrim added.

If he is innocent... there was a chuckle,as innocent as one in our business can be, I will personally apologize to him. But I will not risk the life of my friends. Not after we escaped that closely. Someone set us up in that building. Be it Spade or someone else. And this kid comes out of nowhere. If he can't accept a little paranoia from our side, he's greener than a clover leaf. In his thoughts he added: Not to forget the stupidity to insult me.

EDIT: @Jagger

Forgot to mention that Rufus is so focused on his exchange (no pun intended) with Drakon, that he didn't see any private messages. It should be clear though that, while he didn't reply to Spawn directly, Spawn should have his answer (When all is said and done, it also gives an excuse for Rufus to eat at least some of his words

Rufus slumped back in the truck, rolling his eyes up to the roof of the cab as Drakon rambled on... he was still playing the sympathy card, it seemed. Hurt teammates...yeah, yeah. That happens when you play with the big boys.

He only half listened, waiting for Drakon to finish his spiel so he would have another chance at making his point. The important ones, right?

The thief word caught him though, and his attention snapped back. Oh, and he was trying to be understanding too.

"THIEF?" he sent back furiously once Drakon had stopped. Thief?!

Listen, you little drek! Check the chatbox. That's right. You and I are not the only ones here. I've already introduced myself to your team. I've already stated my intentions. One of your so-called 'teammates' has already helped me by starting this truck...someone that has now stopped the truck. ...conveniently stopped it once I told them I was going to deliver the truck to the Exchange. As my assistence had been requested

There. Let that slotting, pompous, ignorant meat just try to claim the high road now.

As Rufus went to open the door, still ignorant of a spirit residing in the truck, he grabbed his toolkit. If you want things done yourself... only to find the door locked.

Oh. They. Didn't. Lock. Him. In.

Gritting his teeth, he glanced up and down the road to make sure it was clear. Driving a stolen military truck around was one thing. Sitting on the side of the road was worse. Breaking out of a stolen military truck was just...well, aside from a police car approaching, he couldn't think of how worse this could be.

Fine. He wasn't sure if he could complete his task for the Exchange without help...as much as he hated to admit it. He'd have to escalate this, as much as he didn't want to.

In the chatbox that Drakon, Edgar, Alexia and...the Exchange itself, he was sure, was monitoring, he sent the following message:

@Exchange: As I am sure you're aware, I have announced myself to this team you requested aid for. I have attempted multiple times to communicate with them, and only when did I say I was dropping off the truck- as you requested, have they responded: To prevent me from dropping off the truck.

It is clear to me that you, and they, have two very different intentions for this truck.

Any assistance in this matter would be appreciated.


Yes. This was bad. Now that he had made the Exchange aware of their double crossing it...he was certain they would react...unfavorably. He had to be quick- assuming the coast was still clear, he opened his toolkit, looking for anything that could help break through the truck's glass. He needed to get at that engine...

((OOC: Assuming it also showed the chat of before Darkon joined. Keep in mind you only introduced yourself to Alexis on her comlink. Not the exchange chat.))

Darkon did check the chatbox. He was not amused. To Sha'hGrim he sent: Can you affect the air conditioning? I think that guy needs to cool off. Also, are you able to keep the vehicle on course with him inside? I don't want to waste time here. Andrealphus has been hit hard. And despite my best efforts, he will need a doc sooner than later. Let the Exchange worry about the guy.

On the exchange channel he sent: I can not find any introduction. Only a statement that you will take the truck. Someone that, as I can see, has been asked of my team to do. All I see is we are preventing a hijacker of stealing the vehicle so we can deliver it as requested. I could not care less about that truck. But as the exchange did warn us, I deem it only fair to repay that debt.

Spawn listened to the verbal hostilities being flung back and forth between Rufus and his team mates. He kept his peace, realizing that neither the newcomer or his teammates were seriously going to come to blows over this unfortunate misunderstanding. This was, as he felt sure everyone would come to recognize on their own...eventually, nothing more than the burnoff of residual adrenalin from the fire fight coupled with the 'deathrace' to get out of the missile strike zone. Once they all had a chance to blow off some steam and calm down, the circumstance would become clearer to all and the 'fuse' would be doused.

Until then, nothing Spawn could say - as nothing he'd said so far - would make any impression on anyone. These things had to work themselves out, though he was a bit surprised that his seasoned veteran teammates were allowing their hyped emotions to fuel the argument. He didn't know how experienced the new guy was, but he certainly seemed to be a hot-head.

As for the Exchange and what its agenda might be, there was no way of knowing. Aloof and unknowable, those involved grew to accept its tasks with the understanding that compliance would be met with reward, refusal...well, that didn't bear contemplation.

Letting the ongoing rants wash over him, Spawn turned his attention to his hand. He was not up on the cutting edge of medical technology by any means, but he felt fairly certain there was little chance his natural hand could be regrown or further Healed. So, the question was, what kind of replacement could be acquired? Cyberware augmentation would most likely turn out to be the only option available, but that meant loss of his holistic integrity which would possibly affect his adept powers in some form or another. But leaving the stump as it was would disable him even more. His 'profession' required two hands.
Still, there could be distinct advantages to having a cyberhand, and the loss of Essence would be minimal...

As Darkon raced along on their way to somewhere where he and Andre could get further medical attention, Spawn continued to muse over his options regarding his lost right hand...

"Actually, I am honestly not certain..." Sha'hGrim started to respond, pausing to consider more fully.
"In fact, I am not certain the Spirit can do either of those things. The Spirit can't interact with the GPS, so unless it has a physical vehicle to follow, it can't go anywhere really. And most Air Conditioning Units are controlled entirely from AR. I suspect the spirit could spin-up the AC engine, but then it would have no control over the output temperature...." Sha'hGrim trailed off, still attempting to consider the possibilities. Spirits were incredibly useful companions and teammates. They had power in the extreme, some of the time, and the things that they could do were astounding. However, they did not have the same Physical Plane interactivity that Metahumanity had. For instance: the only way a Spirit could take directions from a GPS would be if the GPS was set to audio output. For some unknowable reason, they couldn't even read the screen.
"Umm... Hold on a sec. If we want him to go where he's going, why should I keep him stopped?" Sha'hGrim said, her mind skipping from the Spirit question back to the main situation: was this guy taking off with the team's loot?
"The only reason I stopped the Truck was because I don't know this guy, and that's our loot... But if you know him, and he's going to the right place, then what's the big deal?" Sha'hGrim followed-up, trying to keep her fogged mind on the point. She didn't bother to reach out to the Spirit yet, as she didn't have any useful updates yet.
"Also: how are you speaking with him?" She asked finally, bringing her original questions full-circle.

Upon receipt of the Exchange's message, Spawn opened his encrypted channel for private communiques and sent the following encoded report:

> Report on Task: Grenade Retrieval: Unable to complete task. Severely wounded by grenade and transported offsite before regaining consciousness.
> Subsequent Report: Contact with Designate 'Sidney': Have made preliminary contact with Sidney, but gained little intel due to evacuation of Thor strike zone.
> Inquiry: Designate 'Sidney': My team is understandably suspicious of Sidney, as arrival coincided with missile threat. Please advise on Sidney's assignment related to team, if possible.
> End Report.

Composing the report took longer than normal due to Spawn having to use only his left hand. It was necessary, though, as he needed a few answers in order to best proceed. And despite the fact that the Exchange seldom divulged their reasons for members actions, much less their own, he thought that in this particular case with its mitigating circumstances, a little info would not constitute any breach of proper procedure. At least, he hoped it would not.
He sent the message via the usual channels and with the prescribed encoding and authorization protocols. Now, aside from waiting to see how and when the 'feud' would subside, he waited for a response from the Exchange. He knew he would have to find an appropriate time to confer with Sidney, but it did not appear that time would present itself soon. Too much had happened in a short time, and under stressful circumstances, to expect placid waters too soon.

Meanwhile, there was still the matter of his lost right hand and although he was not usually so intent on combat wounds, this time it was personal. Never had he been so fundamentally outraged at damage taken, but then he'd never lost a limb before.

Exchange Chat 2.0.1
ZinZin: It is The Exchange's desire to achieve maximum mutual benefit. It is also in the interest of The Exchange that team member designate Spawn receive all necessary medical assistance. We would also like to know more of the events behind the orbital strike. It is highly unusual for a runner team to net this much interest by any one party. Due to the proximity of the event to Seattle The Exchange is willing to offer further assistance in return for information on the incident and potential causes. It is also of interest that Ares Military Orbital Platform XY-2788-44-3 was a link to seemingly unrelated events that brought Exchange member designate Sidney in proximity to the area in question. This indicates that your purposes may in fact be linked. The strike also indicates a high likelihood that top tier black operatives are in play at this time in the Seattle area and this is also of interest to The Exchange.


Response to Spawn's Comlink only:
The familar icon of Zinzin pops up in a private window in order to respond. "Sidney is a fellow member of The Exchange who was initially requested to assist due to proximity and the danger you were placed in. Due to your high positive karma balance The Exchange decided to extend a request for assistance on your behalf. Events also appear to be linked to designate Sidney's present personal mission. Due to the links located near Seattle The Exchange is very interested in learning more as this level of threat may put significant portions of The Exchange at risk."

Response to Designate Zinzin:
Encryption keys generated
> Summary of events surrounding missile strike:
> My team was contacted by a former teammate, Spade, claiming an urgent matter he wished to inform us and discuss options. Subsequently, Spade divulged that he was working for Ares and that insect spirits were possibly involved. The situation centers on an artifact acquired during a mission several years ago. Due to Spade's betrayal and attempted ambush, his claims should be viewed with skepticism, but the potential threat should not be discounted. Whether Ares, the UB, or some third party is in control of the sat missile platform is unknown at this time. My team is in need of medical attention before we can return to active status.
> Request:
> As the Exchange's resources far surpass mine or my team's, I submit a request for any and all information on the whereabouts of Spade. We have a score to settle with our betrayer, but there is the possibility that he has been set up to be the 'fall guy' by those in higher power.
> End Transmission.
Message sent via secured and encrypted channel.

Spawn felt greatly reassured. The Exchange was responding to their situation even better than he had hoped. With the vast network of contacts and resources the Exchange possessed, he and his teammates stood a far better chance of not only getting to the bottom of this situation, but very likely settling some long-outstanding debts as well.