Trish furrows her brow as the message scrolls by, stopping her run to do burpees while she reads and processes. Less likely to hurt herself that way, at least, even if it does get a few strange looks from those folks who aren't from the area.<br/><br/><em>Damn... it was looking like such a nice morning, too.</em>She sighs and turns the message over and over in her head. The client and target are both Inoue, meaning she's probably the man's wife or daughter... which means that this will probably be an extra-nasty job. And something tells her that Taggart isn't going to give her all the information she wants on this one, either, given that the message mentioned just how close the target is. Then again, the best jumps are the ones you take blind off the rooftop...<br/><br/>She quickly composes her own message, figuring that the bartender should figure it out easily enough.<br/><br/><em>"Eh. It's hot enough that a swim could probably do me some good. I think I left my trunks with you though... should I stop by and pick 'em up, or just grab a back-up pair from the house?</em><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button"> Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">"I'm in, but not really prepared. Can I stop by for info, or should I just grab my gear and go?"</div></div>