The smell of blood is very distinct. None too peculiar if it’s in amounts where you can smell it, anyways. It’s similar to how it tastes, and Richard knew both well. It was surprising to Richard how easily he could block out everything happening around him if the memory is vivid enough. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant surprise, it was the second time today, the other being when he had snapped himself out of the memory of his sister’s lifeless eyes just in time to swerve back into his skylane. Now the thumping alternative music in this outer-ring Babylon club, the Golden Shovel, was completely out of existence along with everyone talking, dancing and flirting around him. Richard clenched his teeth and growled, now was not the time to lose himself in his mind. There was work to be done. He frowned a bit when Veronica spoke, “I am sensing a spike in your heart beats per minute, Richard.”
“I’m fine. Just keep an eye out for our friend. We can’t afford to lose sight of him when he gets here.” He replied. His earpiece came to life with the cooing voice of Ainsley, “You two look cute over there.”
“Instead of watching us, watch the crowd. He should be here, and soon. I told him when the meeting will be.” Richard replied, his voice level.
“No fun. I never get any. You know how he likes to be fashionably late though. Makes him feel important or something.”
“Someone should tell him it just makes him look late,” Kristof said, everyone on the link could hear the smile on his voice, “I wonder what Marcus would think of our extracurricular activities. Using Group resources to fulfill a personal vendetta. My, my, aren’t we the rebels.”
“I think he knows. I don’t think he cares, so long as our motives coincide with the Group’s. Mine do.” Richard said, looking down at his v-cig, all the calming effects of nicotine and similar herbs, none of the cancer. Even then, cancer was easily treatable.
“Cryptic.” Ainsley laughed.
“He’s walking along the bar right now. Headed your way. Should I kindly direct him towards you two?” Kristof asked.
“No, no. He’ll get here.” Richard assured, Veronica was away from the table in an eye’s blink.
“Tell me when you get h-”
“I have him. He is coming with me.” Veronica cut Richard off.
“Good girl.” Ainsley remarked.
When Veronica brought him back, he was shoved into the empty chair across from Richard with Veronica standing behind him, hands clasped behind her back.
“It’s nice of you to meet me here. Timely too. I appreciate it.” Richard said, his face unmoving to show either anger or happiness. That was a good thing, either of those could be reasoned with, a blank slate though, you could only accept a blank slate.
“No, please, the pleasure is mine. I trust I will receive a payment of my choosing. I assure you, my information is worth every credit.” Alexander smiled white, straight teeth at Richard, a sly smile. Greasy. But that’s what Richard was counting on. Good characters with integrity and ironclad moral codes were not the ones to be prancing around with their self-righteousness where it would do more damage than good. Tradecraft was dirty, quiet but dirty and none too dangerous.
“I hope it is, Mister Hohengramm. Your bodyguards are being watched. They entered one-by-one an hour before you got here. There are four of them. Two of them are of African descent, one Caucasian, the other is a synthetic. Mine is too,” Richard nodded to Veronica, “You have no reason to lie to me. I have credits. Lots of them, and every one of them is a reason to instead tell me the truth, or your part of it, at least. Do not give me a reason to have to dump your lifeless body in the wastes, Mister Hohengramm. Other than that, I feel we can gain many things from each other.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mister…?” Alexander politely waited for a name. It was too bad he wouldn’t be getting the real one.
“Victor. And no part of this is a bargain. No haggling. Do not put words in my mouth. This is strict, you give me information, I give you a set amount of credits and you leave. You forget you ever saw me until I call you again. -If- I ever call you again.” Richard spoke.
“Fair enough.”
“Yes, it is. Now, speak. You know men that I would like to know. Tell me about them.”
===Later===
“That was very uncharacteristic of you, Weiss. You sounded more like a mob enforcer than an intelligence officer. I thought Mason taught you better.” Ainsley said, looking at Richard from the backseat of the car.
“I know. I just couldn’t restrain myself. I need this information, Ainsley, more than I need manners.” Richard replied.
“More than you need an angry executive and corporate thugs snooping around for you?” Kristof chimed in, his v-cig vapor puffing from his mouth with each word.
“Even more than that. Ainsley might need target practice, though.” Richard smirked.
“And then the rabbit hole gets deeper and bigger, and easier to find, and then our tiny cell is over before it even gets to begin.” Kristof took another drag from his v-cig.
“That won’t happen.” Richard uttered.
The skycar zoomed across the skylanes of the outer-rings, back towards home. A building tucked away in the seedy underbelly of Babylon, home to thieves, thugs, gangsters, pimps and whores. There wasn’t a better place for the bunch, one could spend days sifting through every criminal and still not find Richard and the others in the pile. If there was one good thing that the Group was good at, it was good at killing. But also disappearing.