[b][i]”I thought you went off the record after that most recent gang bust. I would have thought you were in danger with the underbosses looking for revenge....Tim got you involved in this, what does he want with us two?”[/i][/b]

Collin pushed the brim of his ballcap up a bit with one index finger, revealing more of his face. His green eyes fell on Yancy, and he gave a wry smile at the man’s slightly stuttering speech. By the sound, and smell, of him Yancy was either still drunk or just recently sobering up. Collin checked his watch, seeing it as just a bit before midnight. Yea, that sounds about right. Taggart had probably picked him up in the middle of another bender. Being Friday that usually meant lots of teary war stories. Hence why Collin avoided the Red Raven on Fridays.

As Mack continued to look around the room with a look of shock and disorientation Collin spoke up, for only the second time since entering the room. Blowing out a cloud of smoke from his nostrils he addressed the distressed ex-cop. 

[color=00a651][b]“I did go underground, and thought that I did a good job of it too. It’s been about 4 years, and yet still somehow that Taggart found me. I don’t like it, but the offer he gave was a little too good to just pass up without a second glace,”[/b][/color] he finished, pulling on the cigarette again and noticing the ember was just about to the filter. He stubbed the butt out and watched as another person entered. That would make seven, and the small female that looked uncomfortable and shy could be none other than Miss Valeriya Ilyushin. Her file, like most of the others, was lacking in their background, but he knew that she was the driver of this group. She had a string of racing awards under her belt, as well as plenty of time under the hood of a car. His appraisal of the new arrival was interrupted by Hobbes pulling a gigantic trunk into the living space. 

When the huge box was opened, even Collins stoic demeanor cracked as he gave a low whistle. Hobbes and Taggart had somehow smuggled what equated to a small arsenal inside the box. It was stuffed with weapons of all different types, and Hobbes hefted a long rifle towards Packard. The weapon looked mean and military grade, though Collin had absolutely no idea what it was. It didn’t look like anything he had seen on the streets before, let alone anything he had seen any of the various PMC forces carrying in Neo-Bay. His question was answered when Hobbes mentioned that the custom rifle had been stolen from the Japanese, meaning that it was likely a secret prototype the Japs had been developing. He took another sip of the whiskey, but set it down behind him in order to keep his body between the alcohol and Yancy. The guy didn’t look like he needed anything else to drink any time soon.