Description: Metro City Harbor a hub for exchanging goods between various individuals and entities. Late at night though deals of a similar but more sinister nature can be struck. R is brought in to support Duke in his current efforts to win back Southtown for the Syndicate, to provide weapons and supplies under exclusive contract. Mature is willing to make this deal but at what cost to Duke and Syndicate?
Metro City Harbor. Warehouse 17. 9 PM.
This was not the place for class, for grace. This was a place for business of the most shady and shifty nature. If it was something routine, a dinner with the Don, a discussion of how to tweak the rackets, then it would have been a fine dining establishment. Maybe a night at the opera.
And the stakes so high.
Thus, a dark, empty office tucked away in the heart of the Metro City Harbor, tucked into a warehouse, tucked into the second story. No windows, one door, one table, two metal folding chairs. A single dim lightbulb hanging over heard. A single ashtray on the table.
And a single, sharp-dressed man sitting in the chair.
There were so many rules with an engagement like this. Duke knew that. But as the dark-skinned enforcer of the sat alone in the room, puffing away on a cigar, there was a sense of apprehension with the Don. He was to be alone. Neutral location. No wiretapping. No bodyguards. Duke was strong enough to defend himself, yes. But he did not like being exposed like this. He wouldn't make exceptions to bodyguards, to men, to being utterly isolated just for anybody.
But R was always known to deliver.
Click...click....click
The unmistakable sound of high heels striking concrete and the sound echoing off metal containers, warehouse walls, and the various other pieces that make up a standard dock area. The clicking grows louder and louder as the feet they are associated with seem locked onto the little office where Duke is sitting.
Click....Click....Click
With one final tap of heels on concrete the door to the little office rattles open and in steps class and grace in the form of a professionally dressed blonde woman. Tall, lean, and icily beautiful her dress suit looking to be cut just for her and of a very pricey material. The rest of her hair, nails, make-up is precisely done almost as if precision and order were a by word for this woman. Cold blue eyes regard the mobster in front of her and with a smile as false as the rose red lipstick painted on her lips she steps into the room closing the door behind her.
A couple more clicks of her heels and she's planted herself into the seat across from the enforcer. "It would seem you are interested in our services, am I correct?" Her cool voice resounds in the dimly lit office room, her blue eyes sit upon him while she awaits his response.
R has come to deal.
Mature.
Some people considered Vice to be the most dangerous of the femme fatales of R. The wild woman was infamous for her rampages, for her carnal desires, for her raw emotional hunger. But that's because more people didn't know Mature. Duke knew that of the duo, where Vice would feed your tongue, Mature would convince you to eat it. And you would believe that was the best thing for you. Vice dealt in primal hungers.
Mature dealt in power.
Duke puffs away at his cigar, the haze of strong smelling smoke hanging in the air, as the door opens. As Mature comes in, he does not stop smoking. He does not rise to shake the woman's hand. He just remains there, like a fat toad, puffing away. Finally, he pulls the cigar from his mouth, and taps out the ash into the tray. Looking at Mature with just a hint of malice. Finally, he speaks with that growling baritone.
"You are correct, madam."
Placing the cigar in the ash tray, the thin stream of smoke drifts up. Duke motions to the chair across the table. "Have a seat. I am in need of a very large purchase, and several other items of interest." Duke's intense focus was on Mature. He had to be careful, but unyielding. R was a dangerous group to deal with, even when you were the Syndicate. As an after-thought, the Don rumbles towards Mature. "But before we begin."
"I am assured confidentiality with my purchases, correct?"
For her part, Mature knew the man was with the Syndicate and a dangerous man in his own right. Then again Mature had little fear of most people, including Rugal though the man that rules R had one thing few others did, Mature's respect. She sits the across from him regarding him coldly as the smoke from his cigar wafts about the room, it doesn't even seem to make her eyes water.
He was a big block of a man and from all accounts not easily felled, but the cold malevolence never leaves her eyes as he begins the discussions. She tilts her head and listens as he gives an overview of what he's looking for, her eyebrow raises though at his final question. "R always keeps it's clients confidential, we'd be very unprofessional not to wouldn't we?" A slight tone of condescion runs through her voice as she regards her neatly manicured nails.
Then her eyes flick back to the large block of a man...
"With that assurance, I should note it does depend on you living up to your end of any deals we might make, cross us and confidentiality would be the very least of your worries." Again those brutally cold eyes fall upon him, "So a large purchase?" She pulls a smart phone from her pocket slowly and delicately so as not to surprise the crime boss, she begins clicking away her nails tapping against the screen....
"What exactly are you in the market for? If you have the resources we can get /anything/ you could want." Her eyes flick down to the screen for a moment before flicking back to Duke.
That was the uncertainty for the Duke.
As much as Duke loathed to be in this situation, he was dependent on R in this regard. Syndicate resources, while suitable for criminal activities, was not what Duke needed. He needed the stockpile that R had. And would not spare any expense. There was a second, more difficult request from Duke, however.
One that he had to find the right moment to secure.
The well-dressed Don clasps his fingers together, interlocking them as Mature takes her seat. Of course it was an question she would take offense to. Duke had to hear it from her mouth though. So much was hinging on the initial strike, that he did not want to risk the information being leaked out to Kain. His eyes focuses on the woman's eyes, cold locking with cold. "Do not worry about the Syndicate keeping up with their contracts. We have every intention not to bite the hand that feeds us." He assures with a somewhat threatening air, daring her to challenge him on it. "As for the size of the purchase, you could say yes, it is large." Duke leans forward a bit, over the table towards the secretary, a fire smoking in his eyes.
"I'm in the market for a war, Madam."
There is a moment as the nails slide along the sleek black surface of the side of her phone, the odd detail this truly draws out is that she seems to not have even a bit of polish on them, they're all manicured to perfection but no 'window dressing' at all is spilt upon them. The tapping of virtual buttons is heard from the tiny black box's speaker. Again another pause occurs as she seems to wait upon Duke for something...
Mature is many things but traditionally menacing is not one of them, but the odd sort of detachment she has about the situation and what exactly she's doing as well as the fact the person she is dealing with is nearly twice her size and she's not even remotely even bother. Some would find that highly unnerving.
As Duke gives his assurances, Mature taps a few more buttons. Then as he belabors the point about his order she bemusedly sits there with her indifferent patience before finally he gives her an idea of the scope of his intentions, "Well you did come to the right place then, R is in the business of wars, now the question is just how big do you want this war to be?"
Her fingers hang poised over the buttons as if expecting specifications to be given...
"Big enough for Southtown."
Duke had a vision. And he needed the tools to bring it to life. The detachment was unnerving to the Don, in fact. He was so used to bullying people into his way, the fact this woman was not even flinching was beginning to get on his nerves. Yet, he was dealing with a professional. And frightening and intimidating R was hardly worth it. It cost too much to lose out on their business. And without their business, his vision would not come true. The brute notices the tapping, the phone. Perhaps she didn't quite understand the scope of the dream.
So Duke feels a need to explain.
"I have the interest of returning the Syndicate back into Southtown. Current occupants of the city, primarily in the criminal underworld, have created a blacklist of Syndicate forces from returning to the city. I seek to correct this." Duke tightens his right fist, as he draws up the cigar with the left. "We will need guns. Bombs. Body armor. Medical supplies. Food."
"Practical army stuff."
Duke puffs on his cigar a bit, staring away from Mature, and off into the distance, as if he was looking straight into the distance. Teeth dug into the cigar, he continues to rattle off the requirements, as if he was at a used car salesman. " And most importantly want it exclusive." He removes the cigar, thrusting it towards Mature. "You what I mean."
"The assurance that the opposition won't get the same toys."
"Easily arranged."
Her fingers glide over her screen and she bats not even an eye at the idea of the future violence that will be breaking out due to this level of firepower going out on the street. The fact that this woman has orchestrated much much more on a even more massive scale and her own natural coldness deaden any hope of such feelings gettting in the way.
Her fingers continue to tap out things as Duke places his order, "Do you require any mines? Mortars? Or any other heavy ordinance? Military vehicles?" Her voice is again calm, collected, and off hand as though these were afterthoughts to her. "We can provide the medical supplies but you'll have to find trained personel to handle using them effectively." R didn't handle mercenaries save as recommendations.
She's tapping things out on that little screen with speed, figuring out values and stastics for both initial amounts and further supplies once hostilities began in earnest. It's at this stage than her fingers suddenly stop, "...You want exclusive rights?" Her blonde eyebrow shoots up quite a bit at that. "That is not cheap at all, in fact it'll cost you more than the rest of your order combined."
"Are you prepared for that level of payment? It'd be 75 percent up front and the final 25 percent upon conclusion of our business arrangement. Additionally exclusivity would only last for the duration of the current 'conflict' unless further deals were worked out for going forward into the future. Do you understand?"
"Military vehicles?"
Duke seems shocked at the very mention of that. "Like tanks? Madam, this a gang war, not the Southtown Invasion. I would like to imagine how people would react to a few gangbangers riding around in a M1 tank!" The enforcer scoffs, taking a few puffs from the cigar before taking it out of his mouth, shaking it in Mature's direction. "I don't think you could convince me for tanks. Maybe Rolento. But not me."
"But the rest are fine."
"Yes to the mines. And sniper rifles! No machine guns. And a small selection of rocket launchers. I have no interest in mortars, would we even use them for?" That seemed less like a rhetorical question, and more of an open question, inviting some suggestions. Duke was almost like a child at a candy shop, gushing at all the potential options for destruction. As the exclusive rights are explained, though, as well with the terms and conditions with them, a small issue begins to swell.
The price.
While understated, the cost of the war was going to be great. Possibly more than what the Syndicate could handle. Duke was already running a loss with the tournament, what with the poor management of the Mad Gear. Duke didn't care, though. He was fixed on his white whale, taking back the city. But with the discussion of this war, the scale, and now the exclusiveness, the very scale of the operation was beginning to come to a realistic turn. Duke doesn't shake his confidence, waving his cigar hand dismissively. "Of course, of course. I understand." He states quickly. Replacing the cigar, he leans back in his chair. He puffs quietly for a moment, before asking a quiet, growling question to the cold lady across from him.
"What sort of cost are we looking at, so far?"
"Tanks would be one possiblity, yes. As are armored personel carriers, armored humvees, or perhaps Jeeps but the last I figure you can aquire cheaper options I only offer it for completeness sake." Mature rattles off in reply before she nods at his desire not to include the heavy vehicles. She nods as the mines are included, as are the sniper rifles and rocket launchers, "Would you like to add grenades as well?" Her tone completely deadpan as she offers it.
She blinks slightly at the question of what use mortars are, "They're excellent against stationary targets such as police buildings, bringing down enemy fortifications, taking out armored vehicles, eliminating large groups of tightly packed opposition, though vehicles can be hard to hit without trained individuals to opporate the mortar."
As he agrees to the understanding that it will be costly to purchase exclusivity from R. He seems slightly reluctant but she goes quiet and lets him build his confidence to answer, "Then we have a deal." The cold look in her eyes intensifies for a moment before she puts a few more final taps into place. Then gives Duke a thoughtful look as she calculates things and confirms them with her device.
"For the weapons and supplies I would say 30 million, we would require this over the course of the 'conflict'. And another 70 million for exclusivity so 52.5 million up front. You initial payment would therefore be 62.5 million."
So that was the bottom line.
Duke began to get sold on grenades. "Of course" was the answer to the grenades. He was easily sold on the mortars. "That seems reasonable" was the reply. Even the reluctance was slowly waning. The final price comes to the Duke. 30 million for the price, and 70 million for the exclusivity. Steep, but all worth for the dream. And all he needed was merely 62.5 Million to start it happening. There was just one problem.
Duke did not have 62.5 million dollars.
Duke's expression does not betray this secret. He simply remains calm. Collected. He could turn her down. He could always negotiate a lower price. He could always remove the frills. Maybe he didn't need the rocket launchers. Maybe he didn't need the exclusivity. And yet, the wrong words come out. "That price is acceptable." Was the answer. It was not acceptable. But Duke was accepting. He knew this feeling. The same feeling when he accepted to be the guiniea pig for stolen NESTS technology. He put too much in it already to back down. But through the haze of the moment, he does muster one question.
"When will you need that initial payment?"
Mature presses a final button, sets the phone down and waits for Duke to process the amount she'd just asked him for. She very lightly flicks her hand in front of her and peers at her nail to make sure she didn't damage any of them while she'd worked on the Syndicate's order. She folds one hand over the cell phone and patiently waits.
"Excellent, then your order shall be placed momentarily." A tap of the screen with her thumb and a mometary scan of said digit and a ding, "It seems we are now in business. I wish you much luck with your war." Her tone as cold as ever but at least she is professionally courteous. The phone is then slid away and she stands up. "You've made a wise decision." Her cold reassurance sounding just as hollow as the little office would be without them occupying it.
She cocks her head just slightly to the left, "The first payment will be expected upon initial delivery of your order." She then raises her hand and slightly waves it, "Before you ask I'll see to your order personally and make sure we have it to you within a weeks time, I will be in contact with you for finalization of the delivery location and time." While that might sound like a lot of power is in R's hands she does continue, "I will choose a neutral site for the deal to go down but if you prefer not to go with the location I've chosen you may make a counter proposal for the delivery site when I call to finalize those details."
"Any other questions or business you require us to do for you? Perhaps recommend a few mercenaries to you?" She pauses there looking very casual in her stance which again speaks of how little fear she feels right now and that freakish level of calm still rides her voice while speaking with Duke.
Within a week.
This was why Mature was the more dangerous of the two women. Duke could have beaten Vice. He could have tamed her. But a woman like Mature didn't expose any sort of obvious antagonism. This was just business. This was exactly what men like Duke wanted. The promise of power, of conquest, of victory. And no second guessing, no questioning. Everything that Duke wanted, in exchange for a promise of money.
A promise that Duke could not fulfill yet.
But that truth could be delayed, for a week. Duke could find loans. He could extort money. His mind was a blur of all the countless ways he could procure the money. The realism of the method eluded him. But he still had hope. Duke replies to Mature, snuffing out his cigar in the ash tray. "Of course, if you can recommend any mercenaries, I would be happy to consider them. As of the delivery site, I have only one known requirement: That it will be on the west coast." Buke does not add any further. He did not want to add any further. It was true, R had a great deal of control over this transaction. And that was making Duke feel weak. Mature said he had made a wise decision.
So why did he feel so much like a fool?
Mature gives a curt nod, efficient and precise that was R's second in command, "I will have dossiers on a dozen mercenary units for you upon delivery of the merchandise. This is of course only recommendations, you will have to work out deals with them seperately but we provide this service for no additional fee due to the size of your purchase."
Mature then nods her head again, "When I chose the location I will keep that in mind." With business now concluded, "I will excuse myself now, my week has suddenly become rather busy." It's not as though she or even R cares if Duke does or doesn't have the money now, if he pays the fees is all that matters and if he doesn't, discount merchandise to the competition would be the least of Duke's worries. He took on the responsibility and now he shall live or die by it all on his own.
"Good night and a pleasure doing business." Mature opens the door and steps out if not stopped, her heel clicks begining as she heads away calm, measured, and precise just like the person making them.
Duke's gut might very well be giving him that feeling because for his dreams and goals he just dealt with the Devil and the Devil always takes his due, one way or another.
Log created on 20:58:35 05/19/2013 by Mature, and last modified on 01:56:41 05/20/2013.