[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://cdn4.cnet.com/img/dBQ8L-HwOrBYxg7TLh7uQ9rICEM=/770x433/2016/08/29/44426d3d-1710-4f8b-85e1-1b34396208c1/machete.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Morgue [hr][hr][/center]

	Bullet splintered, no anesthetic. Caesar had been through this kind of quick and dirty surgery before, and under worse circumstances. But it was no picnic, whatever their surroundings held. At least they were someplace sterile. Of course, Caesar had to get himself fairly liquored up before trying to dig out a bullet. Ripping up a shirt to mop up welling blood and getting invasive with a pair of pliers was not a great way to spend an afternoon, though it was necessary if he wanted to prevent his own demise. Having an actual medical professional was a gift, as well. 

	Cecily was not Caesar. It would be unfair to hold her to the same standards of background and tolerance. Instead, it was his duty to support her in any way he could. Before he took the Doctor's order to hold her down like her life depended it, he produced from his inner vest pocket a sizeable flask and offered its contents to the injured coroner. [color=orangered]"Very smooth stuff. It might even help for a little bit, but I'm telling you, just for a little bit. I've been here before. Maybe best to just let shock black you out."[/color] 

	He nodded to Cecily gravely, and moved to physically restrain her. When properly pinned (as best he could manage), he leaned in closer and said, in attempt to distract Cecily's if just a bit, [color=orangered]"When we're done here, talk to me about your salary requirements."[/color]  


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://images.tapology.com/letterbox_images/1633/default/mariusz_pudzianowski_klasa.jpg?1454962897[/img][hr][b][color=b8860b]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Outside Elisabeth's Office
[hr][hr][/center] 

	No eyes directly on the client. Mysterious appearance of the Secretary of Defense, predicted by Caesar before communication with him ceased. Dealing with the stoic private security of the same lady, each group of hired muscle trying to out-professional the other. Yes, this was tedious. At least Keystone had eyes and ears on their immediate surrounding and elsewhere in the building. A small tactical advantage, at least. 

	Now, if he could keep the terrain tight around the visiting muscle, he could forego a firefight - just in case something went sideways - and minimize loss of life in case of such an emergency. Down to it, the big man just didn't trust these people, not one bit. Hopefully he was being paranoid. His boss's warnings about the situation here in town had given him that particular touch of heightened personal awareness. 

	But he still wished that he had eyes inside the office.