"Of course." Another blip on the dashboard, and Tzahala can see her target in crystal-clear quality; though why the Fists would be so worried about the heavy-set man with a porno mustache isn't exactly clear at a glance. Everything about him screams "bad movie bookie"; but the Riverrunner looks pretty serious when she closes the image. "Don't you worry about your ride. I'll be ready to go... but I can't drop you at the gate."<br/><br/>Pretty much exactly as she says that, a pair of headlights flashes its brights in the distance; and without a second thought, the driver pulls off to the side of the road.<br/><br/>"Alright..." The rover's engine cuts, and the car is almost eerily quiet as Riverrunner leans in against Tzahala's shoulders. "You see that ahead of us?"<br/><br/>"That" would be a scrap-pile down in the drainage ditches beneath the 75 overpass. What had originally just been a wreck-zone had eventually just been incorporated into the greys, and local cleanup crews had taken to depositing debris from other accidents down into the pile. Eventually, someone had gotten smart and come to put up a fence around the wreckage, to keep it from flushing away in the rain; however, when the fence had gone up, the Jacks had moved in. It's about 300 yards away... but Tzahala can clearly see the activity from her vantage point. It's positively crawling with Jumpin' Jacks.<br/><br/>"He's blipping from in the middle of the Wrecks. There's a couple of sheds that the Jacks have put up in there; I'll bet you'll find him there. Anyways, my plan is simple; I give you a thirty second head start to make your way down to the gate. After thirty seconds, though, I'm signaling the Raid crew, and they're going to start the charge. Once you're in, you're on your own..."