[center][URL=http://s1379.photobucket.com/user/Julian_Rowe/media/coollogo_com-63663174_zpsfemsauve.gif.html][IMG]http://i1379.photobucket.com/albums/ah138/Julian_Rowe/coollogo_com-63663174_zpsfemsauve.gif[/IMG][/URL][/center] Sleek rays of light refracted from the narrow strands of edged hair that bounced from the waitress's face, lightly blushed in the cheekiest of fashions. Pai Ajello, a server at K's Italian Bistro strode the short carpeted floor with a near glide to greet the Edwards family bearing pearly teeth. Jack Edwards sat with his back sloped against the oaken table chair. He was at a table near southern side of the bistro restaurant away from the bustling regulars with his wife Donna and his son Mark. Donna studied the pages of the Regalia Gazette, fingering the home living section of the newspaper with ginger touch. She enjoyed perusing the food articles. The sight of a roast platter left her agitably hungry. Stained windows in the diner brushed a lit collauge against the table's flat surface where Mark impatiently fiddled with his straw as seen through a tall glass filled with clear water and crushed ice. [hider=Pai Ajello][center][URL=http://s1379.photobucket.com/user/Julian_Rowe/media/18991985-friendly-waitress-taking-customer-order-with-notepad--Stock-Photo_zpsohploj1q.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1379.photobucket.com/albums/ah138/Julian_Rowe/18991985-friendly-waitress-taking-customer-order-with-notepad--Stock-Photo_zpsohploj1q.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center][/hider] "Ciao. Come posso aiutarla?" Pai tightened her dimples, her eyelids tightly creased. She felt worn given the length of her workday. "I'm not an Italian speaker..." Jack muttered a bit perplexed. His was in fog. "No problem." Pai lifted blue-lined notebook from her pocketed waist apron and pressed a pen to the front page. "What will you be ordering today?" Donna peered at the waitress away from newspaper folds, "I'll take the Panzanella salad, please." She straightened her back and watched Mark whirl ice in his glass. Jack scanned the menu, "I'll take the Chicken Parmesan. My son will have ravioli" "Thank You!" Pia harped cheerily to quickly end conversation. Donna seemed jealous. "And also... my compliments to the restaurant owner. Great service!" Jack attempted to speak after Pai. Pai had heard Jack, what she'd take as a come on, but she wouldn't give him a moments glance as she turned away from the table. Jack slumped back into his chair. Donna appeared shaken, she clenched her fist stern. Antuan Gibson, the restaurant host, watched the security monitor before him with drooped eyes as Pai raised him a thumb through the camera lens. He reached a button on his blue-tooth earpiece to alert K, "table 7 sends you it's compliments." Kathryin Winters opened the kitchen door pulling out a special keycard from her uniform shirt-pocket. She slid the card with slow grace through the payment reader near the bar seating area. She gave Antuan a subtle nod as she returned through kitchen door to the back of the house where Mark Gibson rattled a pan against the stove burners. [hider=Mark Gibson][center][URL=http://s1379.photobucket.com/user/Julian_Rowe/media/Black-Army-Cook_zpssmshvqmu.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1379.photobucket.com/albums/ah138/Julian_Rowe/Black-Army-Cook_zpssmshvqmu.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center][/hider] "How's my son, K!?" Mark asked thunderous over the sound of the kitchen clattering. "Good as always... sorry Mark. I've gotta check something in the office." Kathryne slipped out of the room. "Whatever you say K." Mark quickly tended to the burbling chicken fryer. The office door closed behind Kathryn, which she locked turning the brass tab on the doorknob. The computer monitor at her desk blipped a 10 second countdown timer at the upper left hand corner of the screen signaling a short intermission from the Bistro operating system. The card she slid at the bar gave her admission to dark-net: a secret network for hustlers seeking drug swag across the city, and as it appeared, the bait-sale she posted for whiplash had a hit. A message flashed on-screen as a telling sign she could expect some customers soon. Antuan watched from the security monitor as properly suited man arose from the passenger seat of a taxi cab at the street corner outside the diner. The suited man walked into the entrance, hands had a grip on the front of his blazer jacket. Antuan perked his back to look at the height of the customer. [hider=Antuan Gibson][center][URL=http://s1379.photobucket.com/user/Julian_Rowe/media/maitredrest_zpsavjktgyx.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1379.photobucket.com/albums/ah138/Julian_Rowe/maitredrest_zpsavjktgyx.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center][/hider] "Special greetings to K." The customer leaned forward. Antuan touched his blue-tooth, "A customer to see you..." Kathryn's computer shut-down. She spoke loud through her headset "Send him back." Antuan turned the volume down in his ear. He lead the customer to the kitchen door where Kathryn greeted him with her overhand held out. "Richard Pulling, correct..?" Richard avoided the frosted tips of Kathryn's nails, gripping her hand soft. "To be assumed. Do you have what I need?" "Sure." Kathryn loosely pulled her arm away. "Should you choose to follow." Richard Pulling pocketed his mitts. He followed Kathryn into the walk-in refrigerator. Cool mist permeated the room. Kathryn pushed the temperature configuration panel 2-4-1-5-6-6, and the back wall of the unit rotated, opening a passage. Fluorescent lights blinked on and started to buzz. Kathryn leads Richard into a brightly lit room with a couple of grounded chairs and suitcase sitting centered upon a long-table. The clack of her shoes against the floor tile broke the silence within the interrogation chamber. She approached the leather-bound suitcase and whipped her head back. Her shoulder length hair swayed hypnotically as Richard followed her steps from close behind. [hider=Interrogation Chamber][center][URL=http://s1379.photobucket.com/user/Julian_Rowe/media/Interrogation-Room_zpssro7ta7i.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1379.photobucket.com/albums/ah138/Julian_Rowe/Interrogation-Room_zpssro7ta7i.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center][/hider] "Whip-lash is a bargain." Kathryn said in a quiet and seductive tone. Richard pulled his arm around her throat. "I didn't come to bargain with you dear." Kathryn's hand bolted beneath her apron as she touched the grip of a Colt pistol. "Am I... feeling a.. bulge?" Her fingers slip around the Richard Pullings crotch squeezing his grapes firm until blood dripped like wine from his wettened slacks. Richard strangled her tighter in his forearm sucking in a painful gasp. She quickly shoved the muzzle of her weapon into the hard lumps of Richard's abdomen and fired. Richard's grasp loosened as Kathryn pulled away. He fell to his knees. Richard grips at his chest. "So what... are you gonna kill me!?" Kathryn stared down at him, speaking over her gun's barrel. "That depends on what you squeal pig." "What the hell do you want to know!?" Richard hunched over pain, nearly fetal. "Your gang Richard. Where they hiding?" Richard reaches for a gun hidden beneath his blazer, but before he could point the weapon, Kathryn blasted a smoking hole into his forehead. His brains were blown out. Richard fell forward. His body tremmored in shock as a pool of blood spilled around what was left of him. A cellphone fell from his front pocket. Kathryn picked up the cellular device and scanned Richard's list of contacts filled with possible leads to the next drug bust. Cellphones have transmitters within them that can be picked up to map and pinpoint location of people given where they leave their device. Pass a text to the rest of the syndicate faction, and they'd have enough information to single out who is worth chasing... perhaps figure out where they are within the city. [hider=Text] This is Kathryn Winters. I've got a few leads from a drug bust. See what you can do with them. [b]Contact List[/b] Garrison Moore - (555) 555-5555 Rick Henderson - (555) 555-5555 Maury Jones - (555) 555-5555 Jessica Rudenson - (555) 555-5555 Carrey Johnson - (555) 555-5555 Billy Turk - (555) 555-5555 Alison Durney - (555) 555-5555[/hider] A text was sent to everyone in the Syndicate.