Hitting Bottom - Third Wave, Adam, Jonathan, Harriet and Caittie Options

[DireRadiant]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:01:55

For some reason Harriet felt Monica was to blame. Her head buzzed again.

//Spade:: Sistah, word has hit the streets. Take my advice and don't say anything to the cops, let me talk to them. Keep yer yap shut and yer head down.

This paranoid PI business was getting on Harriet's nerves, she hadn't done anything wrong. In fact she'd already gotten her Harley out to go ride to the site so she could assist with the preliminary investigation. As far as she could tell from the logs she was scanning before they went off line, along with most of the remotely operable equipment at Hirotomo, she had been the last person on site, so it looked like no one should be hurt. Of course there was always the possibility of people in the area being struck by debris, in fact that was the most likely risk. The insurance rate discounts for effective site security pretty much guaranteed the construction company tightly controlled access to any active construction site.

Numb with horrified fascination, Harriet headed towards the devastation, momentarily distracted from the pit of sorrow in her soul. Maybe someone needed help.

[adamu]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:12:02

"Caittie, Caittie, wake up," called a soft, distant-sounding voice.

Caittie opened her eyes, wondering if this was another dream. But the voice sounded like Alex's, and that would make it a good dream. There he was, right beside her bed, practically on it. She bolted up and wrapped her arms around him...but they went right through!

He just smiled at her shock. "You can't touch me, Caittie, but we can talk a little."

"Are you a ghost?"

He smiled again. "Not yet. But if I was one, I'd definitely choose to watch over you. I wanted to see you, Caittie. Actually, I've always wanted to visit you like this, but...I don't know, I guess I was scared. So wouldn't you know that when I finally do come to see you...well, I guess it's just that I've got nothing to be scared of anymore. Like I said, I've wanted to see a lot more of you anyway, but I also have something I have to tell you.
"Caittie, you cannot trust the authorities right now. Not the Star, and not the DA either. Lisa's parents called my parents, and the next thing you know that Myers guy, the DA, was at our door and they hustled us into 'protective custody.' He wanted me to testify against those guys. I guess that Louie Fishbreath creep is a real key to Mafia operations in Seattle. Looked like an ignorant thug to me, but whatever. So my parents were all up to do their civic duty so I had to go along. But about half an hour ago something woke me up. I went to the kitchen and all the security guys were gone. I got scared and went astral - that's what I'm doing now, Caittie, visiting you with my astral spirit form. I went outside the house to see what was up - and Caittie, right then it exploded - just a huge fireball. I zoomed back inside and I saw my parents' pain as they burned to death."
Alex's voice was quiet, but as he told his story his aura grew brighter and brighter, lighting up her whole room.
"Myself, I never felt anything. There was...there is...nothing of me left. My body is in charred pieces scattered all over the place. This is all that's left of me. Little by little over the next few hours, even this will fade - I can't stay alive without my body, Caittie!" She can see that his calm is cracking, that he's panicking. "I'm gonna die, and I can't do anything but feel sad and scared and wait for it to happen!"

Her mind spun. All she wanted to do was comfort Alex, to fill his last hours with peace and love. But she also knew she had to warn Lisa right away. And then she realized that the arguing voices downstairs had started up again, much more violent and angry than before. And then she heard the shot, followed by her uncle's voice - "Oh God in Heaven, Mark, no!!! I didn't...I didn't...."

[Konsaki]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:16:35

*Blam*
"Oh God in Heaven, Mark, no!!! I didn't...I didn't...."

Caittie snaps her head towards her door, and her eyes go wide. 'No... No more... Please...', she thinks as she jumps off her bed and runs out into the hallway. Sprinting as fast as she can, she makes it to the stairs and starts going down them.
Looking to her right towards the kitchen, she jumps back against the wall startled, as she sees Alex glide through the ceiling. Putting her hand up to her chest, she takes a quick breath to steady herself and looks around but cant see anything other than Alex.
She slowly turns the corner to her left, heading towards the front of the store with Alex gliding along behind her.

[adamu]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:10:07

By the time Harriet covered the blocks between her and the site, sirens were converging from everywhere, and a few Lone Star squads were already setting up a hasty cordon. She was about to identify herself to them when her comm rang again - Cody. Thank goodness.
<<Harriet? Don't talk, just listen for a minute. I've talked with the board - got them out of bed on teleconference - and they agree that the company receives no benefit from prosecuting you. We just want the money back. Just give it back to us and we will all go our separate ways. For fuck sake, Harriet, you're a smart woman, and you had a real future with VB. Did you really think we were going to MISS Y2 million?...>> Cody kept talking as Harriet's head spun. She was standing in the middle of the street and the cops at the cordon had seen her and were waving her off, and Cody was going on and on and on about how much the company would find it profitable to spend on hunting her down if it meant a chance at recovering Y2 million and between the two she suddenly had the distinct feeling that Cody was trying to keep her on the line....

[adamu]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:16:39

As she approached the front of the store she saw a scene that would haunt her to her last breath in this world, and maybe beyond.

There, on the floor, her uncle was cradling the limp form of her father in his arms. A pool of blood was rapidly widening around them both, spreading to encompass the big pistol that lies on the ground beside them. James' face was streaked with tears and he was rocking back and forth. And he was bleeding too, from what looked like a deep gash in the side of his head, red pouring down over his ear and across his cheek.

"Oh God, Caittie honey - I...I...he made me do it, he was...oh, Caittie, you shouldn't have to see this....Just...just....just go to bed. I'll...I'll come up and tuck you in. I'll bring some milk and cookies. That's right, milk and cookies."

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 18:53:58

Adam spent a few minutes moving through the iconography within Mr. Balducci's commlink. He found a large number of contacts, just as he hoped to - including his brother, wife, children and neice - nobody named "O'Maley" though. Anyone else mob-related probably wouldn't jump out at Adam, so any of the other Luigis or Tonys could be what he was looking for, and he'd never know. As he started to copy the data to his own commlink he wondered if it would really be of any use. There was a number of conversations, all saved for later playback that might be somewhat useful, but Adam didn't have the time to sort through any of this, and was pretty sure that Franco's family knew better than to talk buisness on this line.

After he was finished riffling through Franco's contacts (and had a copy for offline reference), he started to look for attached devices. Adam found a number of connections open, but all to pretty mundane things. Contacts, Earbuds, a car. The car was interesting, but Adam couldn't start or operate it from here, so he moved on. Franco's SIN and liscense information was easily accessable. It seemed he was the manager of the Dancing Bare. Great. Waltzing in and sitting down next to a patron to talk about a personal matter might be doable.... Walking in and demanding to speak to the manager is probably going to be more of a hassle.

Adam glanced at his mapsoft's output, and noticed the taxi was quickly approaching the ATM.

Waking up quickly, he lowered the window and handled his transaction. Tyisha is going to owe me so bad.... As quickly as he could get the cash, he sent the command to the cab to resume the route, and shifted his perception back to the matrix.

He had plenty of time before he would reach the Dancing Bare, but he felt as if his leads had dead-ended. Aside from projecting images and sound to the mobster's devices, Adam couldn't think of much else he could use the connection for. He didnt' find the blackmail he came here to look for, and didn't manage to find anything else of interest that he might use as leverage against him. He was going to have to go into this negotiation with almost nothing to offer - and that didn't make him feel very confident. What's more, Franco has no reason to listen to him. Adam isn't in a position of power over him. Franco doesn't even know who Adam is, so why would he have anything to fear from him?

Wait. That might be it. Adam's spirits rose again, breifly as a half-formed idea came to mind. I didn't find the information I was looking for - but Franco doesn't know that. If he's mafia, its a safe bet he has some dirt somewhere. And he has no idea who I am - but I might be able to make that look scarier than if I was someone he knew. Bluffing a mob boss. It wasn't much of a plan, but if anyone could pull it off, Adam thought he could.

He imagined one of those movies, where a big corporation or power-player in organised crime hires some sort of anonymous "middle-man" to do their negotiations - so that they can remain anonymous, or deny responcibility. Besides lending itself well to Adam's desire for personal anonymity, if he was lucky Franco might think his "anonymous employer" had a great deal of power - and that Adam shouldn't be ignored so carelessly.

That would be cool.... Adam thought more about the tools available to him, and remembered some movie he saw once where some hacker dropped a cryptic message on the main charater's commlink, right before something relevant happened - so the main character would know it was the hacker's doing. Adam wasn't particularly interested in showing Franco that he hacked into his worthless public commlink - but a simlar effect might throw him off-guard. It might make him consider that the man in front of him, dressed in a nice suit, isn't just some college kid off the street.

Adam set about his last bit of Matrix legwork. Examining Franco's contacts' and earbuds' capabilities, and sending some commands to get them to do what he wanted, later.

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 18:58:03

Adam shifted from, VR to AR, waking up in the cab just as it was reaching its destination - a block away from the club. He left a little window open in his field of view, maintaining his connection with Franco's commlink, and bound a few new macros to buttons on the touch-screen. Gathering his confidence he finished the transaction with the automated taxi and left the taxi.

Adam took a second to straighten his suit, then began to confidently walk down the street towards the club. Its showtime....

[adamu]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 18:59:00

There he was, standing in the rain beneath the great neon dancing koala - the coat-of-arms, if you will, of the cultural center that was the Dancing Bare. Adam shook his head at the ridiculousness of it - it was not in his nature to consider that one day he, too, might not be young and good-looking and need to pay cash to see naked women.

The wide one-story building was windowless but far from run-down. It was surrounded by a large parking lot with numerous cameras, and Adam had to weave his way through a veritable maze of cars to get to the entrance - whoever had devised the lanes on this parking area must have been either insane or geometrically challenged - there was no way to proceed straight more than ten or fifteen meters at a time.

Reaching the door - helpfully emblazoned with a 'NO MINORS' sign in both ARO and RL - he hauled the no-tech slab of plastic open and found himself face-to-navel with a gigantic tuxedo-clad homo sapiens ingentis. Another ARO across the troll's chest explained the Y50 cover and two drink minimum. Adam had expected something about not touching the girls, but that must have been either unspoken or academic in this place.
He sent the cred and was allowed to pass down a black-walled corridor, the music getting louder as he proceeded. He must have gone through some sort of sensors, because the next thing his AR saw was a humanoid diagram with the location of his taser highlighted, along with a listing of the weapon's specifications. A window opened and he dutifully handed the device over to a pair hands whose attached face he could not see.

With the formalities out of the way, a door opened and his senses were assailed with all a horny teen or paunchy sarariman could hope for. The music was far from Top 40 - fast and aggressive, with searing female vocals - music designed to arouse, and to keep the dancers moving no matter how much Bliss they were on.

There were three dance floors - two in each of the corners to his left, and one on the wall to his left between the other two. The one nearest him currently featured one of the more attractive ork women he'd ever seen - stark naked and dancing like a banshee - didn't do a thing for him. The other two stages were farther off - the place was quite spacious - but he could see that both were occupied by humans, or else elves with enough mammary enhancement to pass for human. Again, naked and dancing like dervishes, hair swinging and spraying sweat on their delighted customers. The dancing might have been half good if they were always stopping for a moment or two to deliver that one particular view to whatever seat had just commed a tip.

The other side of the place was a bar, with tables scattered throughout the middle, and plenty of girls of all metatypes working the tables - giving or offering table dances. And in the right hand corner farthest from where he stood, Adam saw a large, raised, circular area - looked like it might once have been another stage, but now it seemed more like a dais for a throne. It had a set of steps leading up to it, right up the center, with a brass railing encircling the rest. It was apparent that you could see virtually the whole club from up there, and behind a big table sat a big Italian man named Franco Balducci. Sprawled casually on chairs to either side of the opening in the railing were an ork and a troll in pinstripe suits.

Adam was just thinking how he wanted to make his approach when an insistent looking human woman wearing nothing but waist-length hair and carrying a tray caught his attention, and he realized that he'd been ignoring the AR menu 'offering' him his first Y30 (plus tip) drink.

[DireRadiant]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:10:49

Harriet shuddered rhythmically as she gazed at the blurry silhouette of the Lone Star Officer moving towards her. The dark figure gesticulated, reaching towards her, asking questions in a louder and louder voice. The voices, all asking her questions she couldn't answer, kept droning insistently.

Finally her voice broke, "no" <<no>>

She turned the bar, and in a smooth motion gunned the engine, pulling away in a wide u-turn, away from the monster chasing her.

"No" <<No>>, she snarled, teeth bared.

Revving the engine slowly up, building engine cycles up into a deep roar, Harriet started racing towards the only things left to her. The only things she had left to lose.

"NOOOO!" <<NOOOO!>>, the sound bouncing off the buildings over the sound of her engines.

<<disconnect>>

//@Monica+@Morris::They killed Andy! There after me! RUN! RUN! I'm coming Morris!
//Spade::Sistah, I .. <<disconnected>>
<<POWER OFF>>

Can't let them get the little one...

Her vision clearing as the tears streamed away, Harriet never heard what the patrol officer had been asking. "Ma'am, are you alright? Can I help you?"

But she had answered.

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 18:59:00

60...59... The ARO counter counted down in Adam's AR overlay as he took in the scene around him. His attention wasn't really on the music (although it wasn't half bad) or on the girls (not half bad either) - it was on the Italian sitting on his bar-seat throne, flanked by two bodyguards.

53... 52... Still not sure how he wanted to approach the man, Adam saw someone trying to get his attention, out of the corner of his eye. Turning to face the person, he prayed that it wasn't anyone he knew - he wasn't sure even his silver tongue could explain what he was doing here... and it would seriously hamper the image he had planned. Luckily the bare waitress didn't look familiar, judging from her posture and portable tray, she just wanted Adam to order his first obligatory drink right away.

46... 45... "Um, just a sec." He opened up his AR menu, and glanced breifly at the overpriced offerings. He had been to a couple of bachelor parties where the guys ended up at places like this - and he knew how the girls delivered shots to you when you tipped well. He wasn't particularly intersted in that (having a stripper deep-throat your shot comes off as "unsannitary" more than "sexy"), but still felt like a shot would help calm his nerves.

44... 43... No. What would a professional negotiator do? Adam thought to himself. He certainly wouldn't show up with sythohol on his breath.

42... 41... Adam closed the AR menu. "Why don't you start my tab by getting a round of drinks for Mr. Balducci and his two acquaintances." Adam gestured towards Franco's table. "I assume you know what they like to drink." He then looked right into her eyes, "... and while you're up there, could you inform Mr. Balducci that Mr. Smith has arrived to meet with him. I'll wait here until he is ready."

30... 29... He hoped his demeanor came off as cool and professional as he had intended, and was watching the waitress carefully to gadge her reaction. Was this sort of thing commonplace? Would she appologize for treating one of Mr. Balducci's aquaintances like a regular customer? He also turned up the volume on his link to Franco's earpieces - if the waitress informed security, or contacted Franco wirelessly, he wanted to know.

26... 25... I hope I timed this right....

[adamu]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:12:00

Warm summer air blew through Harriet's short-cropped hair as she gunned her Harley along the most direct route she could recall to Morris' place. It was the first time she'd driven without AR for a while, but she couldn't risk turning her commlink back on.
When she got to the dilapidated tenement Morris and dozens of other whores, junkies and beetleheads called home, she parked under the one streetlight and just didn't even have the will to lock it up. She didn't care about it, or anything else, except salvaging what she could, and Morris was at the top of that list. But then, he had been at the top of that list for years, for all the good she'd ever been able to do him.
As she approached the building, he came out to meet her, wrapped in a mangy, threadbare trenchcoat. There was a newspaper folded into something roughly the shape of a fedora on his unwashed head.
She grabbed him in an embrace, and he said, "Slow down, sistah. Whaddaya say you tell me all about it...from the top."
As he was speaking, before she had time even to get annoyed, she saw over his shoulder a Lone Star cruiser burst out of a pile of old boxes and rev straight towards them. From around a corner, two more officers rushed them, guns drawn.
Harriet swung Morris around behind her, and that was when she realized they weren't going to even tell her to freeze. The two on foot were leveling their weapons and she could tell they meant to shoot, even as the car screeched to a stop and started to disgorge another pair of armed ambushers.

[Cedric Rolfsson]

Jonathan
7/7/70 - 16:45:06 - N.E. 159th Street Phantom Lake Condoplex

Jonathan pulled on his black synthleather jacket, covering most of the dark green Seattle Timberwolves 68 Championship T-shirt he was wearing, but it matched the black jeans and biker boots he was wearing. He activated his PAN, setting it to notify him of any other Miracle Shooter players interested in challenging the Jedi_Master_Frost, and tucked his Colt Manhunter styled mock-pistol into its sleek inner jacket holster.

He dropped the file with the Boss and called it a day. He'd tucked a copy of it away in a private data storage area he had so he could look it over and see if he could figure it out later but to be honest, accounting was about as much fun as unmedicated dental work.

Tonight was all about fun, he was going to meet Jason and Guile tonight at the Underworld and he wanted to hit the mall in Issaquah on the way to pick Guile up a nice weekend thong. He grinned at the thought of dropping it in her lap while she and Jase were making smoochie faces at one another. It'd be perfect payback for her finding those fragging yearbook photos from his freshman year in college and hacking his icon to look like that photo. It'd taken better than an hour to fix that job, and if he ever saw himself in shiney yellow plastic bell bottoms again he'd eat a bullet. He still couldn't believe he'd ever wore those things.

Before he left he tucked his spare commlink into the hollow book he'd gotten when he was living in the dorms, and ordered R2 to monitor any communications and all of the cameras he'd put around the condo and alert him of anything unusual. With the agent catching messages and calls and 3PO spoofing his datatrail constantly he could effectively disappear for awhile. Let Guile track that!

Locking the door he jogged down the three flights of stairs to the garage and his waiting car. He had places to go.

[Konsaki]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:17:00

Caittie slowly stepped back out of the room, keeping an eye on her uncle and the gun right beside him. James paid her little notice as he slowly rocked back and forth, his brother limp in his arms. The pool of blood getting bigger by the second, but it was slowing down and Mark was looking pale.
Once she was around the corner and out of sight of the scene, she turned and headed up the stairs towards her room. All the while, she was accessing her commlink and making an outgoing call...
"LoneStar Emergency Response. Officer Barding speaking.", a voice spoke, which only she could hear.
"I need help! My uncle went crazy and just shot my dad! My dad is bleeding all over and needs help!", she silently yelled.
"...Understood. We are dispatching some officers and a medic team to your location. Please stay on the line and get somewhere safe."

By the end of the conversation, she was already in her room and had locked the door from the inside. As she turned around, she saw Alex's etheral form and walked up to him. She tried to grab his hand but it just waved right through and she could see a pang of sadness wash over his face.
"Alex, please help my dad. If there is anything you can do... Please...", she pleaded with the still living ghost. Alex just floated there for a second before he nodded.
"I dont know, but I'll try... I dont know how much time I have left...", Alex replied with a resigned tone of a man knowing that his time was coming near. Without a nother word, he glided through the floor towards the bloody mess they had just witnessed a minute before.

As soon as Alex had left, Caittie was thrown into a blur of motion as she ran to her closet and grabbed some cloths. Her father had gotten her these street cloths for her, just some small measure of safety, as the cloths had a light lining of protection.
While she quickly changed, she called up the secret number that Lisa had given her. Remembering what Alex had said, Caittie wanted to call Lisa and warn her.
After a few rings, a nervous look crossed over Caittie's face as she was tieing her hair back. "Come on, Lisa. Pick up..."

[adamu]

Jonathan
Monday 7/7/70 19:13:34

Jonathan sauntered across the floor of the third tier of Dante's Inferno. He and his friends were pretty happy to have recently started getting let in this low. Seems like they'd been stuck forever on the second tier before the door guys had passed off on them moving down. But really, he knew, they only got down this far because they came in so early - Dante's was about making money, and if they could give coolness bumps to their customers that actually had jobs to go to the next day (and cred on their comms), then they would do so. Whatever - it beat being on level one with the tourists.

The place was, as usual, dark and frenetic, the music loud, and the lights designed to give a sense that the whole place was on fire. And he never could get used to walking across the class floor.

His coworker and best friend, a human named Jason Bell, was already seated with their elven hacker pal (and Jason's current koibito (fiancee???) Guile. Yeah, just Guile. It annoyed the hell out of Jonathan that she was so slippery about he identity, and it didn't help that, unlike he and Jason, she was obviously SINless. But thanks to Jonathan's efforts, she was getting less and less hard to pin down all the time, and tonight, he thought as he found the sheer black thong he'd just bought at the mall, he was really gonna have her.

[adamu]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:17:35

Lisa didn't take long to answer her comm, despite the late hour. "Caittie! Wow, you called at the PERFECT time. I told you I'm not supposed to use my comm, but, like, all the security just now went outside for some reason. Window of opportunity, girlfriend! How are you ssssssssssssssshhkrkkrkrshcchch" and Lisa's node disappeared. Before Caittie could react, Alex reappeared, but he looked much paler now than before, less substantial, more wispy. "Caittie, I am so sorry but your dad's dead. And your uncle - I've never seen an aura so sad and full of self-hatred and despair." He came closer to her, and she could see that if ghosts could cry, he would. "Oh I just need a hug so bad right now," he moaned as all his testosteroney teen boy pretense shattered, giving way to a hopeless, impotent panic. "I'm fading out, Caittie, I'm disappearing out of existence and I don't know what to do and I'm so scared. Oh, I'm so so scared, can't you help me??"
He pled with her and she tried to think of some way to comfort him, but then there was a pounding on her door and the sobbing voice of her uncle. "Caittie," he began, struggling to control himself and communicate clearly, "you have to open the door so we can talk. You are in such terrible danger honey - such terrible danger there is just no time. You have to let me in. I understand why you called the police, but I called them off, Caittie, okay. No one is coming. At least, no one good."

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 18:59:33

25...24... Adam kept half his attention on Mr. Balducci's table, trying to make it obvious that his attention was not on the girls. The other half of his attention was on the waitress, who apparantly took the :nuyen: 100 bill he handed her and walked off. She didn't head to the bar, and didn't head over to Franco's table. Bitch. The metaphorical drek was already being thrown up at the fan.

15...14... At about that time, out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw all 6 eyes from Franco's table turn his way. Adam's ploy seemed to be working somewhat - he was standing out enough to get attention. Unfortunatly, probably not the kind he was looking for. The ork moved over to Franco and whispered at him. Luckly, Adam had a bug in the fat mobster's ear.

"Whaddaya wanna do about this mook, boss?"
"Hey, we're open for business here. Let's hear what he wants, the cheeky bastard."

5...4... Adam gathered the last bit of self-confidence he could muster, and stood up. Now or never. Shwen, I hope you're worth all of this....

3... 2... As he approached the stairs he got a better look at the men. The ork seemed to be looking in his general direction - but was now wearing shades. Apparantly the darkness was too bright for him. Adam knew a guy who was sort of into that look - black longcoat, tricked out shades, black mascara.

1... *beep*... The thought of the ork bodyguard wearing black mascara and white facepaint resulted in Adam's wearing a bit of a smirk as he started to ascend the steps. Both goons stood up before his foot hit the first step. The ork was standing slightly in front of the troll, and took his gloved hands out of his jacket in a way that told Adam that he was about to be frisked.

The search took a little bit longer than he would have liked. If nothing else, the ork was thorough. For some reason, he also seemed to think Adam kept his weapons in his ass. Adam tried to shoot Franco a look that said he understood the precaution but was loosing patence with his gropping minion. The ork was also very careful to reach int oAdam's pockets and examine anything he found. Luckily for Adam he didn't realyl have anythign on him - although he got a little nervous when the ork pulled out his commlink. When it was returned to him un-molested, Adam felt better. Under his breath, so only the ork could hear him, Adam asked, "Satisfied?"

Finally, he was lead to the table, and the ork pulled out a chair for him. Adam smiled and took the seat, aware that the ork and troll were both now behind him where he couldn't keep an eye on them. Beneith the table, he opened his hand wide, and a circular AR menu appeared where he could discretely select one of his preloaded macros. His select-sound filter attuned itself to Franco and Adam's voice, and began to record the datastream.

"On behalf of my employer," Adam began, attempting to keep his demeanor as cool as possible, "I would like to apologize for the last-minute nature of this meeting, Mr. Balducci. However, I understand that it is similar last-minute urgency which created the necessity for our discussion."

He paused for a moment to gadge Mr. Balducci's reaction. His improv act was going to depend heavily on subconscious cues the crude man gave off. Franco seemed relaxed. That wasn't exactly the state that Adam would have prefered - but it wasn't entirely unexpected, either. "Say the word, Mr. Balducci, and this meeting is over. This is your house, and I have no intention of disrespecting you in it. I also have no interest in wasting either of our time." He then put both of his hands on the table and folded his fingers, in what he believed to be a very professional manner. "I would, however, ask that you hear me out. I believe that you will find my message enlightening...."

[adamu]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:00:04

As Adam started speaking, he heard a faint hum come up. It was much more quiet than the blaring music, but nonetheless was definitely there, like a refrigerator you don't notice until it shuts off. Almost immediately a red AR message appeared, announcing that his sound filter had been overpowered by an overload of random noise patterns. And right after that, his AR made a second announcement - all external connections lost. He knew enough electronics to know he'd been jammed.
But he managed to continue his speech without showing any surprise. Once he had finished his initial pitch - "I believe that you will find my message enlightening..." the musclebound Mafioso spread his hands wide, palm upward, and said charitably, "Kid, why wouldn't I hear you out? I let you up here didn't I? Now shoot."

[Konsaki]

Caittie
Wednesday 8/13/70 02:17:54

Caittie stood there listening to the static in the air, stunned at the loss of another friend, but somehow it didnt hit her like it would of a day ago. First Beth, then Alex, her father, and now Lisa...
*Wham* *Wham* *Wham*
"Caittie, let me in! I need to talk with you before they arrive!", James yelled through the door. His pounding on the door was getting harder than before.
'I have to get out of here or I'll end up like everyone else...', Caittie thought to herself as she started looking around her room. Other than the door that James was pounding on, the only way out was the window.
Moving over too it, she looked over towards Alex's transparent form and noticed that it was getting dimmer as time passed. His etheral head hung as he contemplated his life and how short it was.
"Alex...", Caittie called over to him, causing him to look at her. "You were right..."
"I know... I wish I wasnt...", a very soft voice could be heard in reply as his form slowly faded to almost nothingness. "I love you, Caittie. Sorrrryy...", was the last thing she heard him say as his form just blew away when she opened the window.
*Wham* *Wham* "CAITTIE!"

She wished that she could mourn him right now, but she felt that if she didnt hurry she would be joining him.
Looking out the window she saw the lattice work that her father had built. On it grew some geneticly engineered blue roses without thorns. They added some color to the otherwise bland house and shop.
Nodding quickly, she went back to her closet and grabbed her backpack. After quickly stuffing as many spare cloths in it as she could, she grabbed her glasses off her desk and went back towards the window. Dropping her backpack out the window, she could barely hear the dull thud of it hitting the ground over the noise her uncle was making at the door.
"Cait! You have to the count of 10 before I'm coming in by force! ONE..."
Her eyes widened at hearing that and she bolted towards the window. Climbing out it, she heard a loud. "TWO...". coming from beyond the door.
She worked her way down the lattice as fast as she could without slipping off it. The dew that settled on the humid night was making the painted wood slippery and it wasnt easy goings. "Seven", she could barely hear it from where she was. As she looked up towards the window, the piece she was holding on to gave way and she fell towards the hard earth. Just as her mind registered that this would be the point in time to scream, she landed hard. Standing up, she rubbed her sore rear and saw that she had fallen from around two meters from the ground. 'I could have just dropped that if I was ready...'
*Wham* *Wham* *SMASH*

Caittie understood that sound ment her uncle just bashed through the door and was now looking for her in her room. Picking up her backpack, she started running down the alley. She had just turned a corner when she heard some vehicles peeling out trying to get away from her house.
A few seconds later, an explosion behind her flung her forward and onto the ground. Peices of wood and other rubble rained around her as she tried to protect herself by curling up into a ball.

[DireRadiant]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:12:00

It had been a quiet shift. Not that much of a bar crowd on a Monday night, even in a cosmopolitan downtown like Seattle the masses had work to go to the next morning. So the mobile drunk tank fleet tonight had been only one Citymaster, and only two cars had been needed outside the Flying Lizard Dance Club to ensure the quiet exit of some of the hardcore partiers. Doris hadn't even needed to unclip her baton. One stolen bicycle report, two waffle house bill skips, one minor domestic, settled when it was discovered the overloud trid show had been what disturbed the neighbors, no need to let the neighbor know the volume was to cover some squealing college girls in a game involving gallons of soy oil and textured rubber mats, Doris had to get her partner, and herself really, out of there in a hurry. The initial trid recording was probably all over the precinct within five minutes.

Two dozen special order glazed donuts, made with real flour and real maple syrup. from real maple trees, still weird to think about eating tree sap, almost got left on the counter when the blast shook. The tremor wasn't an earthquake, most earthquakes don't send out a shockwave for blocks. Any doubt was erased when the Code Texas Star had come in on both their commlinks. It was not done lightly to bring the entire Lone Star Division up to full alert. In about five minutes a lot of off shift officers were going to be checking in. Commlink traffic spiked. Things got tense.

They'd stared in awe at the cloud of dust and debris as their patrol car rolled down the street towards the Hirotomo building. Or what was left of it. Their commlink buzzed a second time before they responded as available. Distractedly they viewed the commands, then peeled off towards the location designated by dispatch. Doris reviewed the data on the request while her partner concentrated on driving. In terse tones she relayed the information, "Armed Suspect seen leaving the Hirotomo building... here's a visual, address is a known associates. Sending us in case they show up, intelligence projects high probability arrival... "Pre Authorization of Lethal Force".. wow... We got Car 673 en route as backup."

The tires chirped as Doris's partner punched the accelerator in his haste to get there ahead of the perp. She was already braced as the patrol car was slid to a stop. Convenient piles of trashed boxes, some filled with metahuman stench, Doris glad of her gloves, made a quick screen over the patrol car. The most important part was concealing the lights and Lone Star decals. They were going to have to wash with disinfectant after the shift. They drew their sidearms and checked the loadouts with neutral expressions and got themselves ready.

When the perp stopped Doris and her partner looked at each other, then shrugged. Perps did the strangest things at times. Car 673 was several blocks away, not being as close as they were initially, now it needed hurry. SOP called for them to approach and apprehend immediately, the backup available to maintain contact if the perp decided to keep running, or riding out. A recheck of the grid map showed Car 673 a block away, it should arrive just in time, so they stepped out and approached.

Doris had done all the standard tactical courses. It was required if you worked for Lone Star. Everyone got checked out every 6 months on basic firearms. The fact is, there is a vast difference between the best simulators used once a month every month for years, and the reality of a pile of fat, bone and muscle twice your mass twisting and firing itself at you, teeth snarling and casually ripping out metal railings to use on you. Her finger jerked. She didn't even feel the gun move in her hand.

She'd been prepared to shoot, it was standard psychological preparation when approaching a perp, you don't draw a weapon unless you're prepared to use it. But shooting through some fancy colored lights images didn't carry the same feeling as knowing in your bones that something big and nasty with lots of pointy sharp teeth was coming to kill you. Doris didn't even realize she had dropped her gun as she reached for the one thing she knew worked, and had lots of experiencing using, her baton.

Moments later she realized her mistake, and wondered why she was alive. The monster had arrived. But she lived.

But how? Doris stared at the monster, it's snarling teeth, felt it's hot breath and it whirled and crouched in front of her. The iron railing trailing dark fluids in a stream, odd bits of white debris falling away from it.

A pair of familiar resounding thunks informed Doris of the arrival of her fellows from Car 673. The sounds of choking and convulsing momentarily relieved her, the typical reaction of a late night drunk to being shocked.

The monster in front of her stumbled, bending it's knees. But with a snarl it straightened, twisting to put both her and the new attacker in its' view. Bits of dark jellied goop slid off of the iron railing in it's hand.

Doris suddenly remembered there had been two monsters.

Doris knew it wasn't her brains.

Doris really really just wanted to be home.

The monster raised it's hand.

[DireRadiant]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:12:00

It was so frustrating whenever she dealt with Morris. He treated everything like a game. Both Harriet and Monica had tried for years to make him realize there were some real consequences for not taking care of himself. Monica had given up recently, or perhaps had conceded she would never be able to help him. Now look at what he was doing. Harriet had come here to save him, knowing he would never do the simple thing and simply take off and hide out for a while.

He heard what you said, but never listened. She'd told him to run, but just like back in grade school, he had to charge right in along with her. At least back then he hadn't done any of this strange business of speaking lines from the trid. She doubted most Lone Star officers got told, "When I slap you you'll take it and you'll like it.". Of course it only happened because Morris was a Tusker and the softskins always were a little weak in comparison.

She'd swung extra hard more from worry, and in the quickly dismissed hope that Morris would at least run when his man was down. The batons smashing into their backs and knocking them down quickly reminded Harriet of the one advantage the softees had, damned numbers and pack tactics. She felt something break and gritted her teeth in agony as she fought off the urge to curl up and die.

And now Harriet was getting Morris killed.

The thought made her sick, but it kept her up, and she glared at the woman in front of her... if there's going to be killing...

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:00:05

Come on, Adam. You can do this.

He attempted to keep a straight face and seem unphased by the disruption of his commlink's signal. The truth was that he was a little surprised - not that the Mafia would try to jam him (in case he was wearing a wire, or to keep him from calling for help) - but because they were able to. Hellcat got him one of the best radio transmitters money could buy when he was pouring money into a commlink, and normal radio interference rarely had any effect. If it didn't hit him before, it did now. Whoever he was messing with was extremely well-connected.

"Kid, why wouldn't I hear you out? I let you up here didn't I? Now shoot." Franco looked as confident as ever. Adam couldn't tell from his reaction if he was aware of the jamming or not - but couldn't imagine it would happen by anyone else's orders. Very well. We've both shown we have impressive gear.

The moment he took to reflect on his loss, and to gadge Franco's reaction to his offer, was coming to an end. "Eager to get down to buisness. I like that, I will dispense with the usual pleasentries." Adam dropped the word 'usual', in hopes that it would help lead Franco to believe that this wasn't the first time Adam had done this sort of thing. Of course it was, but if Adam was half as skilled as he would need to be to convince Franco of what he came here to convince him of - this little embellishment would help his case.

"You see, my employeer has developed a growing concearn reguarding your interest in one of the girls in your employ." Adam glanced back towards the stage slightly. For a moment, he worried that Shwen might be around, and blow his cover - but then he remembered what Tyisha said about Shwen cowering in her room. This was the last place she would be spending her last hours as a free woman. "One, " he paused, and clicked open a random AR window, as thought double-checking the name as he spoke it. "...Ms. Shwen Xiao." The hand and eye movements were meant to give the impression of distance between Adam and Shwen, as he had to reference her name, as well as to reinforce the idea that Adam is a professional negotiator. If Franco also noticed that Adam's AR was still functional, dispite his attempts to disrupt it - all the better.

"I understand that you are a buisnessman," Adam continued. "Your reputation, as such, has travelled farther than you would appreciate - however, this is one of your qualities that leads me to believe that we can come to some agreement. You are used to the concepts behind PRMs, BPCPs, and of course, ROIs." Adam threw out those acronyms, partially to throw Franco off, and partially because they sounded cool - like there was some lingo between them that the goons certianly wouldn't understand. Adam picked them out of his memory from a buisness class he took a few years ago, but wasn't entirely sure that he was using them correctly or that they even applied to this sort of 'operation'. Still, he didn't imagine the mobster had a buisness degree - so he didn't expect an argument.

Adam paused for a moment to see if Franco made any indication of knowing what he was talking about, before finishing up the last few sentances of his turn of banter. Mr. Balducci hasn't been the talkative sort up until now, and since he was letting Adam play his hand first, he figured that he would make the best of it and turn his speech into somewhat of an essay. The first paragraph was coming to a close....

"As I understand the situation (and please correct me if I am mistaken), Ms. Xiao wishes to take an early retirement. However, she is currenly 'on retainer' with your organization, and that you believe that this sort of career faux paux would result in a loss of sales - hurting both the economic standing of your company, as well as your own personal income." Adam allowed himself to smile, he was having fun with this analogy - but had not forgotten the seriousness of this situation. However, he wanted Franco to know that he meant no ill-will towards him. "Don't get me wrong, I am inclined to sympathise with your position. Your viewpoint is an understandable one, but I think someone with your reputation, as one who can see economic opportunities, and pitfalls, that others have overlooked, will have no trouble taking a broader perspective of the situation."

"My employeer has a stake in the welfare of Ms. Xiao - physically, socially, and economically. Therefore, it disturbed him greatly when word reached him of your 'counter-offer', and of the unspoken termination clause in your employment contract with her. As soon as he heard, he put his resources to work insuring that you and I spoke, so that this matter could be resolved to your mutual satisfaction, before either of your interests came into conflict." Adam was taking a bit of a gamble on this last part. From what he knew of Franco's buisness-model, he avoided conflict and confrontation with the other powerful members of organised crime. Adam was sure that the 'mafia' thing to do would be to develop friendly relationships with these people, but hoped to give the impression that he represented another unknown player in the Seattle OC scene. If he was lucky, and Franco bought it, he might be more inclined to back off or at least negotiate - if he wasn't lucky, Franco would call his bluff or prove to be unafraid of stepping on toes while he climbed to the top. "As I understand it, Ms. Xiao's last 'assignment' has a hard deadline of 10 pm tonight." He glanced at the time in AR, "... meaning that in less than three hours, this matter will undoubtably unfold in a manner that leaves everyone unhappy - unless those with the power to do something about it, come to some agreement about her fate."

His remember Shwen's last words to him: she's in her room like some sort of zombie, resigned to her fate.

"Mr. Balducci, my job is to cheat Fate."

"I would like the opportunity to convince you that it would be better for everyone if you reconsidered your support of Ms. Xiao's sudden change of heart."

Adam paused again, that was it. His objective was out, although not all of his cards were on the table just yet. He hadn't been openly threatening to Mr. Balducci, but hoped that his not-so-subtle hints that there were other things going on that he might want to consider had hit home. However, if Mr. Balducci was going to have Adam thrown out on his ass - this was the time when he would do so. If he didn't, it meant Adam had gotten a foothold in the man's mind (or at least peaked his interest) - and that Adam's objective just might be attainable.

[adamu]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:01:30

As Adam reeled out his improvised pitch, he watched as Balducci's expression turned from one of amused dismissal to thoughtful attention. When Adam had first mentioned Shwen's name, the mobster holds up a finger - "I'm sorry, Shwen What???" at which point the ork calls out - "I think he's talkin' about Jasmine, boss." A look of understanding had crossed Balducci's face and he had nodded for Adam to continue.

Once Adam finished speaking, Balducci pursed his lips and nodded slowly, obviously weighing his options along with his next words. He called to the ork - "Pour us some vino, Freddie." As the ork produced glasses and poured, Balducci spoke: "I'm getting the impression you haven't met this girl. Well, I can see why someone would take an interest, but then that's the point. You probably should meet her before we even talk more, but she ain't here right now. She's got somethin', this chink, that certain something, and you know by that I'm talkin' about nuyen, my friend. That terrified and unwilling but resigned and submissive thing that a pro cannot fucking fake. Like striking damn gold. She was a good earner here - face, body, full package, along with a good dose of that innocence-corrupted thing, right. Hell, I had a taste. But after she started turnin' her own tricks in my house - behind my back, mind you - well, when I told her how it was gonna be something happened in that little slant that fucking sextupled her value. I am telling you right now, I am gonna get a cool three grand a fucking hour from that whore, and I got four saps lined up just for tonight. You gotta know I am looking to clear over a hundred K, easy, before her eyes glaze over and she's becomes just one more hunnerd-a-blow Asian hottie.

"So you'll understand me when I say, I respect your position and that of your employer, and I am more than willing to discuss an accommodation, but I am gonna need to see something on the table here, ya know, before we can seriously talk."

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:02:07

"Of course." It took everything in Adam 's power to conceal his building disgust. Besides hearing Franco talk about Shwen like a used condom, it was becoming more and more apparent that what Adam had initially feared was true - that Franco was a deepy sick individual, and that appealing to his humanity would prove to be futile. However, Franco's last few remarks about Shwen had helped him keep his resolve. Adam was determined to do everything in his power to stop Franco - both because what he was doing was wrong, and because someone like Franco didn't deserve to succeed at anything. Adam wanted to knock him down a few pegs. Unfortuantly, although he seemed to be buying Adam's professional act - Franco had just called him out on the one thing Adam knew he would need, but didn't have... anything to offer. Adam needed to distract Franco from this for a bit, till he had time to come up with something.

Adam clasped his gloved hands thoughtfully, looking down for a moment while he prepared what he was going to say next. Then it suddenly came to him and he looked back up at Franco. "If we are going to talk seriously, Mr. Balducci, it is important that we both show mutual respect for one another - and the people we represent." I hope this works, in the mobster trids, the boss-guy is always going on about 'respect'.

"My employer wouldn't appreciate you calling Ms. Xaio a 'chink', 'slant', or 'whore' any more than you would appreciate it if he were to refer to you, or one of your buisness associates, as a 'goombah', 'dago', or 'pimp'." Adam paused for a moment to let his words sink in. He looked very serious, but derived a small bit of pleasure from insulting the Mob Boss to his face. He had a point, though, and as long as Franco saw Shwen as nothing more than a source of income (the more miserable the better), this conversation wouldn't go anywhere good. "While she may, or may not, be those things - I am sure a man of your position understands the necessity for civility and respect in a delicate situation such as this one. Therefore, for the remainder of this meeting, I would appreciate it the both of us could refer to her by her name, which is 'Shwen Xiao'."

Franco held up his hands in a stop motion. "My friend, I assure you I meant no disrespect. I mean, I figured, seein' as how we are not in mixed company, an' how you don't have an emotional involvement, we can speak as men speak. But I very much appreciate your point and agree that we should....I should...elevate the civility level of this discussion."

Adam smiled, to let Franco know he was pleased with his compliance. "Thank you. That will make this meeting go quite a bit more smoothly. If I might be frank, in turn, dispite the fact that she is clearly beneith your attention, I am surprised that you didn't recognize her name. As I understand it, you are in possession of contact information for her parents." Adam unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair. "This, of course, being one of thethings you are currently blackmailing Shwen with."

"What I am not surprised that you didn't know, was that those people, in China, are not the only family that Shwen has." Adam looked around the bar, a little bit. "I'm sure you understand the importance of family, Mr. Balducci. In your buisness, I believe it is held with very high reguard." I hope the mafia still considers itself a big italian family, or this innuendo is going to be lost. "While not biologically related, my employer considers himself part of Shwen's 'extended family', so to speak, and cannot help but take any insult - or attack - on her person, as an insult or attack on himself."

That is true enough, but I should make my point clear - and give him what he asked for, "something on the table".

"Clearly, he would be displeased if you were to carry through with any of the 'distasteful' things that you have proposed to do to Shwen - reguardless of what she might have done to offend you. It isn't anything personal, Mr. Balducci, but family must protect family."

"I'm sure that you can appreciate this position - as you are a family man, yourself. Arn't you, Mr. Balducci?" The bodyguards behind Adam immediatly stood and started towards him. But Franco - whose expression darkened considerably, held up a hand to stop them, and a moment later accentuated the hand movement and they sat back down. Then Franco nodded at Adam to continue - but he began watching him like a man watches someone who is holding a gun to his head.

Whoa. I didn't even say the most insuating part yet. Adam hoped that he didn't seem as moved by the situation as he felt. Guess I made my point.

"...but enough about that. I think you get the idea."

"So, now that you see my employer's position more clearly, perhaps you now feel comfortable to 'seriously talk'?"

[DireRadiant]

Harriet
Tuesday 7/2/70 04:12:06

"Guys?"

Weasel was nervous. He had something really important to say to his roomies. They'd been passed out from the mix of home distilled ethanol and low grade smokeweed they'd been drinking all the previous night. Chilled with stolen bags of ice from the stuffer it wasn't half bad. At least if you weren't abysmally allergic to it. Weasel therefore wasn't asleep, the cough syrup he'd grabbed worked a little differently, making him a bit hyper. The other effect was making him a bit afraid of enclosed spaces. That explained why he was out on the ledge.

"Guys?"

It afforded a great view, Weasel spotted the Lone Star cops blocks away. It had been all he could do to not giggle as they rolled up. It had been a bit nervous at first, but when he saw they weren't coming in he relaxed. He started giggling again when the pair of them had thrown some of the boxes over there car. The loss of the convenient target to piss in was definitely offset by watching the woman shaking her hand to get rid of the noxious fluids. The most amazing thing was they never looked up to see him.

"Guys?"

Then the burnt out chiphead, nice enough tusker, but day to day you weren't sure whom you were dealing with, came out. Right on the steps in front, not seeing the cops. Watching the cops react, but not coming out to grab the chiphead, that had been a puzzler. Why would the Star send someone to grab a harmless chiphead? Then he saw her roll up, sliding to a stop after tearing down the street on her hog. Still didn't make sense, the Star coming for the chipheads sister.

"Err... guys?"

Then everyone was running all over the place, the other patrol car showing up too, which Weasel had missed he had been watching the two hiding ones run out. He heard it all the way up here on the 5th floor window ledge. That sound. Like when he dropped the rotten melon out the window when it got too ripe to even use for home brew alcohol. The shots he was used to, especially around here, it was kind of a background noise you learned it was best to ignore. But she had really laid into that one, and the chiphead had charged right in as well.

"Wow.. guys?"

Some tussling, then the chiphead was down, amazingly slapping down a cop, and the chipheads sister had taken off. Weasel thought finally she had some sense, but then she turned right back, and he noticed she had grabbed one of the Star own damned stun batons. He'd been prodded enough times with one to know they really hurt. In fact, how the heck was she still standing, most people folded right up like the chiphead had when touched. He was sure she'd been hit a couple times, and she was still dishing it out.

"Guys!"

"What is it weaselbreath?"

"Guys... this is important! Don't ever let me say anything bad about the chiphead tuskers sister ever again."

"Why?"

Weasel just pointed down at the carnage in the street.

[adamu]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:05:02

"Yeah, we can get down to business. Like I said, I am more than willing to work out some sort of mutually equitable arrangement." Franco's words were as agreeable as before, but now there was a new edge to his voice - a sort of devil-may-care determination. Adam felt the bodyguards shift in their seats as they, too, sensed it.

"But first," Franco continued in a calm, agreeable tone, "what I need you to do for me is to take a deep breath, sort of lean back a little, and then smash your nose into the tabletop as hard as you can. And if I don't think that you really gave it your best shot, Bruno is gonna have to help you give it your best shot, and that could hurt my new hardwood table."

[BlackHat]

Adam
Wednesday 5/14/70 19:05:32

The tone of Franco's voice had shifted, as did his posture. At first Adam wasn't sure what it meant but he could tell that something in the conversation had shifted even before the goons behind him did.

Then it hit, when Franco politely asked Adam to smash his nose into the table. Stunned, it took a second for the words to process in Adam's brain while the mobter continued about how if he wasn't satisfied, he'd have his goon 'help him out'.

Holy shit. Adam took a deep breath, just the way he was instructed - but not because Franco asked him to. Adam suddenly could feel his heart pounding in his chest - and needed to calm himself if he was going to come up with any way of setting this situation right. Talk about a one-eighty....

A second ago, Adam was sure he had Franco on the ropes. He was sure that Mr. Balducci was worried that Adam's mystery employer was someone powerful - enough so that Franco had been pretty agreeable up until now. Obviously, Adam crossed some sort of line - but as the last few moments of conversation raced through his head, he couldn't figure out what it was that he might have said that would have given away his deception. It probably wasn't anything he said, Franco was the kind of guy that could probably just tell that Adam wasn't.

He leaned back in his chair, hoping his demeanor was holding up - dispite the sudden sense of danger and failure. However, Adam had absolutely no intention of smashing his own face into the table. For one thing, it would let Franco know that he was in control. If Adam was willing to do that to himself, Franco will have won. Secondly, Adam had the sneaking suspicion that no matter how good a job Adam did of breaking his own nose, Franco would be sure to have his goon hit him a second time anyway.

Really the only option that still seemed viable for him was to push his luck and continue the bluff. What would a professional negotiater do if he was asked to do something like this? Well, he wouldn't fucking do it. But the other side would know better than to ask. Time was running out, Adam had to talk fast, or act quickly.

"Excuse me?" He asked, having heard Franco perfectly the first time. Whether or not Franco endulged him, and repeated himself, Adam continued. "If either of your men lays a hand on me, this discussion is over." Adam held his hands open, in a show of peace. "Obviously, I cannot stop you from breaking my nose, and if that is your final answer on this matter, I will deliver it to my employer. But I trust that you wouldn't want to give him the message, that you're unwilling to negotiate and that you are only capable of communicating with violence and physical force...."

This is it, thought Adam. Although he tried not to show it, he was metanlly preparing himself for a beating against the table. If he smashes my face in, at least I gave it a shot. I just hope I'm gonna be able to walk out oon my own.

Still, Adam hadn't lost all hope. He had made a good point. Whether or not his attempt to intimidate the mob boss had blown up in his face, if he was still buying the professional negotiator act, following up on those threats would be a huge mistake. Rather, it would be a huge mistake, if Adam was actually backed by a powerful criminal element, who was capable of retaliation. Adam prayed that Franco hadn't figured out that he wasn't.