[h3]Baihu[/h3]

The asian shrugged as he walked away towards the coffeee machine. Somewhere deep inside of him he hoped that the little girl would forgive him. Somewhere.

He pressed the button for a good ol' cup of joe, but nothing came out. He pressed it again, only beeping noises. A few more button presses netted some more beeps as if R2-D2 got stuck inside of it. At the end of his (short) straw, he violently shook the red and black machine, cursing the smiling face for denying him the ability to get high on caffeine. Finally, a ding of hope that signalled there would be hot liquid energy spewing out of the spout created a smile on Baihu's face.

Of course that was immediately met with the machine extruding some long, black thing of presumably old coffee powder that had condensed and spit out into his cup. He stared at the black log-like thing in his cup and then at the winking smile face that mocked him. In a flurry of curses he took out a knife and promptly stabbed the shit out of it. he made sure that the damn face wouldn't be there.

When he was done, the poor coffee machine comically exploded, spraying coffee in a small radius around it. As Baihu walked back, now having to settle for water, the guards slapped their hands against their heads. They would have to request another coffee machine, shame since they just got attached to that new on too.


[h3]Qinglong[/h3]

Qing smiled to his assistant, ignoring the possible implications of her words, "Just get me the presentation things ready. I'll be in starting the meeting by that point but don't be afraid to walk in."

Turning back to the table he picked up the phone and dialed one of his commanding officer in Black Orchestra, "Tian Tian, how do our forces look right now? I want to make sure that we can put on enough of a show to scare those criminals back into their dark sewer holes when we land."

Of course, there was only one real criminal Qing wanted to go after, but putting on a show of force never hurt anyone. It might actually help him get some more support in America. 

As his musing continued, the meeting was to begin. He straightened himself out and combed his hair before sitting up straight as the projector awoke once more and the aging face of the current CEO of IBM flashed on with his board of directors next to him. One by one they all greeted him as if he was a prince of a far away land.
"Greetings friends," Qing began his own introduction after they finished their's, "Let us make business."