DG does a remarkable job of ignoring the goings-on just behind her in the next booth over, considering the amount of data she can readily gather on the pair.  The increasingly potent cocktail of pheromones they're pumping into the air is a bit distracting, but she drowns it out the old-fashion way: with a long sip of soycaf and a bit of self-discipline.  Then she calmly sets the cup down and begins to slide out of the booth, casually slipping up-and-over whoever's sitting between herself and the open end despite the amount of contact doing so creates between spandex-clad derriere and potential co-worker.<br/><br/>"I won't be requiring any special equipment that I can see.  If you could, some extra ammunition and magazines in standard calibers would be useful--just in case.  Nothing that will raise eyebrows, just standard full-metal jackets and subsonics."  As she exits the booth, she glances back over her shoulder toward the neighboring one, smiling ever-so-slightly with a distant look for a moment.  "If you'll excuse me, I need to get eyes on the operational area and start poking at the network architecture.  I'm uploading my commcode now for contact purposes."<br/><br/>Though, to her prospective teammates she's opened more than just a standard 'call-waiting' comm application; there's a social network style 'facepage' available on her private node with information on her areas of expertise, enhanced capabilities, and current small-arms load out.  The page looks a bit like what one might expect an Urban Brawl player's 'trading card' statsheet to look like, all pertinent numbers and statistics and no fluff, but it gives a solid 30-second version of what she does and what to expect out of her.