[center][H3]Mr. Ryan[/h3][/center]

	Mr. Ryan sat in the back of the car reading his tablet, devouring information about Charlie Ledmark. He needed not only to understand how Mr. Ledmark thinks but also dirt to weight any situation in his favor. He also takes stock of his "team" a ragged bunch of misfits. Not that it matters, his only job was to get assets for the team, make a tidy profit for Finance, Oh and acquire whatever corrupted materials causing trouble. The skull cracking and espionage was [b][i]not[/i][/b] Finance's job and he would be damned if he had to do anything so low as fighting. His most curious case was Sophia, initially she was an insufferable moron complaining about anything she could find to complain about. He noticed that her act was too thick, nobody was actually that dumb... or at least nobody who survives in the Illuminati for long was that dumb. He considered saying something but decided against it, because again its [b][i]not[/i][/b] his job.

	The drive up to.. Billsvill or whatever the town was called, was actually somewhat pleasant. The ride through the countryside was quite zen when bob wasn't bugging him to trick the ditsy woman into selling her soul or while reading everything he could dig up about Charlie. Bob, the demon, had bugged Mr. Ryan several times during the drive but this could not be observed by anyone else as it was all in Mr. Ryan's head. An arrangement that was occasionally very surprising when office chairs or passenger seats where suddenly occupied by a skeletal demon. However he had gotten used to it well enough to not talk aloud when replying to Bob, and only mouth the words soundlessly. 

	On arrival Mr. Ryan took note of the weird yellowness of, well, everything. It was weird but not something that he could solve right away, and he was sure that RnD or Damage Control would deal with it. He followed Sophie into the Inn but ahead of the rest of the team, he sighed audibly while Sophie was making her [b]Incredibly[/b] stupid statements. Although he was surprised by the sudden alteration of her accent, but he discounted it while turning on his charm and least threatening visage. 

	[color=00aeef]"Excuse her"[/color] He said to the woman behind the counter while collecting the several keys, [color=00aeef]"I am Mr. Ryan, I wish to thank you for your hospitality, I know we informed you that we will be reserving these rooms. I am going to pay you in advance for the week"[/color] he nods at her presenting a practiced harmless smile, along with a small pile of fresh crisp bills which amounts to 10% more than the group of rooms would cost for the week. [color=00aeef]"And keep the change love"[/color] he says winking with a tone that slides to a vague English accent. An accent that he only mastered because Americans always seem to like, and more importantly trust, people with the slight accent.

	Just as he finished talking Bob appeared behind the woman at the counter, no puff of smoke or fading in, one moment he was not there and the next he just was. Not truly of course the Bob image was just in his mind and would have been imperceptible even to those who can see demons on a regular basis. The bob image lightly caressed the girl's arm, [color=ed1c24]"I like this one Oscar... I want her."[/color] The skeleton said, again only Mr. Ryan could hear him. [color=00aeef][i]'Not now Bob, I'm working... wait, why do you want her?'[/i][/color] Oscar mouthed soundlessly and almost not moving his lips at all but he did eye the girl more closely trying to figure out what Bob was so intrigued by. [color=ed1c24]"I have my reasons"[/color] hissed the demon but did not elaborate at all. [color=00aeef][i]'Well Bob, Ill consider it, but i wont make you any promises. I still remember what happened last time...'[/i][/color] He briefly remembered two months of agonizingly tedious seduction/bribery/coercion with a Mormon girl before he managed to get her soul to bob. 

	He lightly tapped the keys on the counter and nodded again to the girl, gears still running to figure out why Bob wanted the her. He turned with the handful of keys ready to pass them out to the gang, trying to put on an air that seemed like he was an agent or manager of the group who conducted their business affairs. Which was somewhat true, as he was in command of their payment and allocation of resources... a fact he was willing to use as incentive if need be.