Lucas grabbed his car keys, as he smirked.
"I'll be round soon." He simply said, Austin's voice rather than an assistant's a relief, as he got out of his chair, the call disconnected. He tidied his folders, and headed to the far side of the room, opening up a grate on the far side. Inside here, wasn't his whole stash of gear. But there was some simple stuff. The MP7A1, his Kimber M1911, and a handful of knives. They were packed into a duffel bag, with what looked like at least $2,000 of hard, cold cash. Bringing it out from the far side of the vent, he shut the grate, the blue and white sports duffel's strap around his right shoulder. There was much he had to discuss, and since Edgar wouldn't be over immediately, there was some planning and post-operation work to be done.

Heading out, he found his car, the Audi RS7 that he had used yesterday sitting in the lot, in it's usual prestige. It was perhaps too nice of a car for a private investigator, but was built on drug money, and had been customized well, to be a little more toughened than a normal RS7. It was faster, and felt fire-breathing, definitely a vehicle for someone like him. It fitted well for buisness, but for his other activities, that too. A false numberplate sat on the rear, technically registering it for another RS7, in another name somewhere out in Kansas. Always useful if speeding was a problem. Stepping in, Lucas switched the radio on, a bit of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PCdGwViVMM]Gaslamp Killer[/url] coming on. He did have weird music tastes, he thought to himself. Classic rock on the one hand, but on the other, this. The engine on, he pulled away, onto the road, coming up to a set of lights. Red. He just waited, tapping the wheel, looking out on the sun and mixed clouds that sat in the sky today.

The V8 on the RS7 revved hard, as Lucas pulled away from the lights, shifting the paddle up nicely as the car surged forwards, Lucas aware he was breaking the limit. The mid-day had little to no traffic, and the cops were usually on their donut break by about now, with Lucas even knowing their usual patrol routes. This was thanks to general observation, having taken this route every time he headed to the rougher part of town, to conduct deals. Knowing the fastest way out with a cop-free area was always good homework, and when you had to beat criminals, thinking like one was a good practice, though Lucas wasn't of course up to date with it. Turning left, he was back on the gas, the Audi roaring as within minutes, Lucas was over at Martin's General Repairs.

Pulling around the back, he looked in his rear view, and then in front, seeing the all clear. Pulling into a small gap, he got out, the long-sleeved navy shirt and grey trousers he wore made him seem like a casual client. Taking the duffel, walking in through the door. Austin was as innocent as he could be, as Lucas looked around, walking in.
"Many a thing, friend. Backroom." He said, pointing, just walking that way anyway. He knew precsiely what needed to be done, and he had little time.

Walking through into Austin's backroom, Lucas tossed the duffel onto the desk, pulling the Kimber out and the knives, leaving the cash and the MP7A1.
"Those are yours, I believe. No fingerprints left, and that cash is untraced. $2,000 exact, as you asked." Lucas said, a little cold and detached, though he knew that Austin did warm his personality a little.
"Thanks for this. I appreciate it." The man with the shaved hair said, as he checked the Kimber, looking through the mechanism as he pulled the hammer back, inspecting the weapon a little, before chambering a round again, and placing it back in his hidden holster.