The meeting was set, and everything he needed tonight was in place. Garrett had been working this case now for three years. Arms dealers were only growing in the states and tonight he was finding another link in the chain. It had taken him over a year to develop his reputation and put all the pieces into play that he needed. The woman he was meeting tonight was looking to purchase some of the weapons he had for sale, or rather Mr. O had for sale. Garrett had never given his full name to anyone, people knew him as Mr. O, which worked for him. His cover name however was Connor O’Flanagan. He had chosen to stick with Irish name because of his actual heritage.
Keeping his story as close to the truth as possible. Connor was prior military which was his way in with countless weapons, mostly ones that would cause mass amounts of damage. Tonight he was meeting finally with one of the potential targets in Harper Rock, for months now he had been working on a lead in this city. He had to build his reputation up enough to be the beast dealer handling the more rare items that people could and would look for. Needless to say he had what the lady was looking for. Word of mouth in the crime world got him here. It never would have without him putting in all the work he had into this case.
Garrett had no family both of his parents having passed on a few years ago, he never had any siblings and the rest of his extended family had remained in Ireland, he was not exceptionally close to anyone. His life revolved around his work. From the point when he joined the US Military up to today. He had dedicated himself to his country and to his job. He didn’t see what he did as making numerous of sacrifices but rather helping people who didn’t even realize they needed it. By keeping his home safe. Allowing most people the ability to sleep soundly.
Standing in the center of an Abandoned Factory he checked his watch. There was no one else with him and he wore no wires, too many things could go wrong when you did that. He was on his own, he had already cased the area and knew once he had her in custody it wasn’t that far of a drive to his safe house that he had set up. It was currently empty and ready for interrogation. His features were hardened and he looked every bit the monster he was portraying tonight, not that he didn’t always appear this way, in fact he did. Tonight though that hardness that outlined his features seemed to be more apparent than usual.
Making the deal (Razzlyn/Closed)
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Razzlynn
- Registered User
- Posts: 96
- Joined: 13 May 2016, 18:22
- CrowNet Handle: Stayin' Alive
Re: Making the deal (Razzlyn/Closed)
Razzlynn had arrived at the agreed upon location early, several hours, before "Mr. O". Did he feel he truly knew where every draft entered this building. She hunted these areas nightly. A cold smirk transformed a generally straight expression while she thought of that being the look left on his stiff, maimed person: "O".
Yes, she intended to seemingly play into his plans. Certain he believed he had accounted for most possible incidents. Allow him to keep his grasp on such a bogus notion until he was caught in her jaws and bleeding out. Razzlynn was exactly the creature she didn't seem, and she had to make a game of tonight. How swift or drawn out would depend on the lesser beast.
So many unjustifiable reasons to end this man's life. The baby-faced Killer wasn't even thirsty. Boredom, annoyance for appearing to go along. Weeks of tedious detail weaving. Over there looking stone like there was a definite knot at his desired end. Irksome. You may only climb so high before you run out on surviving a fall. He was going to fall. Unless he agreed to make the connections she wanted, he would be the next floater they sometimes didn't bother to haul out the river around this clusterfuck printed on maps as Harper Rock.
Higher quality components than those found discarded were becoming a constant necessity, shoddy parts only made larger pieces of garbage. He might be of acceptable use.
No, there wasn't going to be a death of any permanent variety. Although his life was going to end. The career he had pounded for. Simply because who appreciated a snooping ********. She continued to inspect the man, stalking in blatant view he presently lacked the sort of eyes to see.
Fangs shot into her own lip as she reached a proximity where living heat could be felt, and a near effortless leap would leave her having to repeat all that ********. Another composed step placed her in front his apparent roughness, Razzlynn thrust out a hand even though the gesture was disgusting. Her smile lacked everything but anatomical motion.
"You are cleaner than most strays."
Beside her almost full black - tee, leggings, leather - if it weren't for the white welt around her sneakers, he was dressed. They'd pass at a sudden funeral between them.
"... Mr. O... ?"
Yes, she intended to seemingly play into his plans. Certain he believed he had accounted for most possible incidents. Allow him to keep his grasp on such a bogus notion until he was caught in her jaws and bleeding out. Razzlynn was exactly the creature she didn't seem, and she had to make a game of tonight. How swift or drawn out would depend on the lesser beast.
So many unjustifiable reasons to end this man's life. The baby-faced Killer wasn't even thirsty. Boredom, annoyance for appearing to go along. Weeks of tedious detail weaving. Over there looking stone like there was a definite knot at his desired end. Irksome. You may only climb so high before you run out on surviving a fall. He was going to fall. Unless he agreed to make the connections she wanted, he would be the next floater they sometimes didn't bother to haul out the river around this clusterfuck printed on maps as Harper Rock.
Higher quality components than those found discarded were becoming a constant necessity, shoddy parts only made larger pieces of garbage. He might be of acceptable use.
No, there wasn't going to be a death of any permanent variety. Although his life was going to end. The career he had pounded for. Simply because who appreciated a snooping ********. She continued to inspect the man, stalking in blatant view he presently lacked the sort of eyes to see.
Fangs shot into her own lip as she reached a proximity where living heat could be felt, and a near effortless leap would leave her having to repeat all that ********. Another composed step placed her in front his apparent roughness, Razzlynn thrust out a hand even though the gesture was disgusting. Her smile lacked everything but anatomical motion.
"You are cleaner than most strays."
Beside her almost full black - tee, leggings, leather - if it weren't for the white welt around her sneakers, he was dressed. They'd pass at a sudden funeral between them.
"... Mr. O... ?"
