Description: Iron Maiden (1982). Her 'Jinchuu' mission said 'Eliminate Kyle'. It didn;t say how. And it didn't say she had to do it. Elle contacts the Southtown Slayer Yamazaki to do her dirty work for her. Despite his revelations that he practically mauled her last partner, Elle reveals that she frankly... just doesn't care. So much changes in so little time.
There's a lot of reasons Elle doesn't deal often with the Syndicate. It's not the massive amounts of power or the fact that they're so dominating and overreaching in Southtown. The simple fact is, they don't really need her. Southtown's resident Syndicate has a powerful infrastructure and competant agents. That's just how things work. The best Elle could do is replace a missing cog for a few weeks, tops.
The Syndicate doesn't have any shortage of wide eyed gangs and bums that want in on a peice of the criminal ticket.
That being said, the Syndicate doesn't precisely foster the kind of loyalty other places have. NESTS manufactures their soldiers, and Shadaloo and the USPL brainwashes theirs. The list goes on, with factional agents wandering about pledging loyalties for whatever reason.
With the Syndicate, however, the baseline is that, outside of Billy, money talks, and naught else pertains. Elle likes that, and respects it, so when she makes the three or so calls it takes to get ahold of Yamazaki's people, she knows that she doesn't have much to worry about. Elle's got business to do, and Yamazaki, at the core of his insane being, is a businessperson.
Or so she's been led to believe.
She waits at a small Chinese noodle shop. It's a quiet corner, tucked away from general viewing. It doesn't necessarily cater to people like Yamazaki, or even Elle, but it makes for a good innocuous place to get things done. In order to blend in a little more, she's dressed in jeans, boots, a green tee-shirt and an old ratty lbrown leather jacket. 'Look for the girl with white hair' was the marker, and she's really the only one there that matches that description as she waits with a suitcase and a manila folder.
Business and business, and Geese has never been particularly discerning concerning the jobs that his Lieutenants take, as long as they don't interfere with business.. though dealing with Ryuji Yamazaki, Geese was more forgiving still, there. Keeping track of Yamazaki is about as easy as rustling a herd of angry bulls; no questions were asked when he simply walked out of Geese Tower when a fair number of meetings have been going on.
The choice of Chinatown was interesting. In the place that he's known to patrol on his off-time, as well, she would ask him to meet there. This, one of the only places where some of the citizens show him open support, and where they cheer him even in his most violent moments. He's well familiar with the noodle shop that he's been asked to go to, and it's obvious when he arrives. The entire doorway seems to darken for a moment, going black before the sun goes through just a moment later. The trademarked fur coat is draped across his shoulders, with the usual black dress clothes underneath. A short look is taken around before he finds the white-haired girl in question. A brief look is given back over his shoulder, to which he nods.
"Wait in the car."
Yamazaki walks over to his contact in the noodle shop, and no words are said. The Enforcer simply folds his arms over his chest and waits.
She doesn't waste a lot of time yammering. Brown eyes stare at his own. She knows that Yamazaki haunts Chinatown (if not this particular place). There's no real reason to make any overt actions to put him at disease.
"Have a seat if you want. They're already bringing over some water," she says as she pushes forwards two items: a folder and a metal case. "The target's Kyle Travers. I think you know a little about him already, since you beat the living shit out of his brother back when he was still working for me. All the details on where he lives, and where he hangs out is right here." A hand pats the folder.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you don't like a lot of restrictions on what you can and can't do on a job, so I'm not giving you any," her cool, dry voice rasps, her eyes not leaving his. Elle's not trying to stare the man down, by any means. The insanity in Yamazaki's eyes and face are just merely hypnotic. She's not so much afraid as she is intrigued. Professionally, of course.
"All I want is him 'eliminated', and photographic evidence that he'll be out for a few days. Break his legs, feed him his spleen, kill him. I don't care."
And then her hand gesture to the metal box. "And here's the compensation. Half up front, half on completion."
A brief look is given over towards those that run the business. An eyebrow is arched, and the man at the counter offers Yamazaki a nod before he pulls out a seat. The fur coat is arranged over the back as he settles himself into the chair, then eyes are cast first to the folder, then the case. Those eyes snap up at the mention of 'Travers', though, and that tale-telling shit-eating grin pulls Ryuji's lips wide. "Travers, you say." With the amount of money that's on the line for this job, he's at least making an effort to be polite enough to not interrupt with sudden laughter beyond a mild giggle. "Well, look at that. You've already done all the hard work for me. Someone's done their homework." One hand reaches out and takes the folder, and he slides it back across the table while Elle continues to talk.
"Heh. Restrictions." That slicked-back blonde head shakes for a moment before he slumps back into his seat. The water is delivered right on time, and Yamazaki reaches a hand across to pluck his glass up. A deep drink is taken before you provide what few details of the job actually exist. "... this is for this tournament, right? The one that no one's supposed to know about other'n whose involved?" A low chuckle starts to rumble in his throat again as he drums the fingers of his left hand along the table. "... eh, fuck it, it's not for me t'worry about. Y'got a job you need done, else you wouldn't be here." A glance is given down to the metal case. "He doesn't stand a goddamn chance of walkin' away from this, though. One way or another."
Elle nods once. "Travers. And yeah. You'll find out that when I send people out on a job, I don't give them a bunch of sloppy half-ass notes. I like to get things done fast as possible, and I don't expect the people I pay to have to clean up any messes on their own name."
She takes a sip from her own glass. "And you're right. It's about Jinchuu. There's a bonus in it if you can manage to get him to scream out what details those ninjas gave him. Ten grand on top of what I'm already paying you... but that's at you're option, just in case you need a new watch or something."
She tilts her head, and looks him in the eye again. "So, it sounds like we have a deal then?" She pauses. "You're just as horrible as people said you would be. No morals, no hesitancy. Willing to kill anything for the proper amount of nickles and insurance that you'll get paid."
She places the drink down. "I like that. I think there's a lot of business that we can do."
Yamazaki's head tilts back, and he tosses back the entire glass of water all at once. He sets it back down a moment later, then, before Elle goes to look the lunatic right in the eyes. He leans forward just a little, then rests his arms against the table before that big shit-eating grin starts to pull at his lips. "You don't even know how horrible I am, sister. You. Don't. Even. Know. The half of it." Suddenly, he tosses his head back, then he starts roaring with laughter. Most of the cafe inhabitants are used to Ryuji's bouts of cackling, the hyena-like amusement that echoes throughout the cafe for a good few moments.
You remember that little fucker, Safiullah? Little shit that followed you around like a puppy? He ever tell you who put him in the hospital?" Suddenly, the laughter snaps dead quiet, but the grin, somehow, manages to pull even wider, to the point that it looks like he has fangs. "I hope not. Surprise makes these things so much more amusing." He sits back up straight again, and the cafe owner walks over to hand him another glass of water. Yamazaki tosses it back just as quickly this time. "But that just means you've got a work-example. You know what to expect."
She doesn't even flinch. "Safiullah outlived his usefulness to me a long, long time ago. You actually did me a favor, cleaning up a loose end for me. Probably the worst person I've ever had to work with. Completely unreliable in every sense of the word. I told him to keep himself out of trouble. He found you."
The corner of her mouth quirks up ever so slightly. "And I don't think I need to tell you how stupid that is." "
"Last I saw of him, I had Tran toss him down a flight of stairs." Elle's heart died a bit back, you see, sometime when she got repeatedly nuked by Vega's psycho power.
On her request.
Yamazaki's probably not the only severely sick person here, although Yamazaki's got Elle outclassed in nutbars in more than a few categories and is more than capable of pulling her apart like an insect.
"But I know what you're capable of. And that's why I'm here, and not in front of Lien, Eiji, or any other freelance assassin," Elle continues. "At any rate, I'd like Kyle Travers turned into meatloaf ASAP. Once you get me photo evidence, I'll dump the rest of the cash into your account, clean and untraced."
"And here he was loyal to the very end to you. And you tossed him down a flight of stairs." Another brief laugh passes Yamazaki's lips. "This amuses the ever-loving hell out of me." He brushes his hands off as he slides back into his seat. "I'm surprised you were even able to get him out of his hospital bed. Last I checked, I was loading his stupid ass into an ambulance because he had ribs stickin' out of his chest." The laughter stops once again, and Yamazaki slumps into his chair. "But, meatloaf is doable. I'm feeling... inspired." The glint typical of serial killers and retail managers that work on Black Friday suddenly flashes across Yamazaki's eyes. "Tonight, I'm busy. I'll track him down tomorrow night. You'll have the pictures on Wednesday. They won't be delivered by me, as I'm sure you expect. I have your number, and you know how these channels of business tend to communicate."
"Loyal yes. Useful, no. Who needs friends that are liabilities?" Elle shrugs. "I don't think Geese got where he was by having useless hangers-on. If I hear right, the man kicked his own kid to the curb. That makes what I did to that pink haired little pissant look like tiddlywinks."
As Yamazaki speaks the details of how the job will be executed, Elle nods. "Good. Lookign forward to the pictures. I'm sure we can do business in the future. I have a few tidbits you might find interesting, and I'm sure that both of us will benefit from the general intel that I tend to pick up."
She stands up, and backs away with the care and necessary decorum that's required when dealing with a bloodthirsty maniac. "Sometimes being a little bug has more than one meaning, you know?" Tossing off a little salute, she heads out of the door, leaving a fairly simple job in capable hands.
Log created on 21:49:29 08/20/2007 by Elle, and last modified on 14:32:36 08/21/2007.