[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/YnXh17a.jpg[/img][hr][b]Location:[/b] Queensguard Industries RnD Industrial Complex, en route to Justice Memorial
[hr][hr][/center]

	Caesar accepted the flash drive and slip of paper from his daughter, wrapping the paper around the drive and slipping them both into a pocket. Maybe now was time to purchase a safe deposit box, somewhere in town. Just in case his company's system was compromised, it would be nice to keep a physical copy someplace. Likewise, he quietly accepted Lorna's offer for translation. He was a little surprised that he had forgotten she knew Russian; it's not like it was casual dinner conversation at the Casa Gonzalez. Then again, casual dinner conversation at his place commonly fell to more blood soaked conversations, such as how many teeth they collected that day, interspersed between financial projections and whatever was on TV that season. Such was the life of their violent and eccentric clan. 

	He waited until Alicia got back from taking her text message to speak a few words, [color=orangered]"Girls, I know this seems like I'm going stir crazy in that apartment and need a case to work. Maybe I do. I don't know. There are people dying around us, and no answers [i]why[/i] they are. Thank you for your help with this. If anything happened to either of you, I don't know what I'd do."[/color] His face grew grim, thoughts of blood and vengeance playing behind his eyes. [color=orangered]"Be painful, though. Hurt a lot of people until I found the right one. Then I would strangle the pobre hijo de puta with his own intestines - cram his verga en la nariz, esa puta estupida..."[/color]

	Caesar caught his rising anger and threw some restraint on top of it. This would help no one. Yet. Still, he did have a strong feeling that tapping into the building concern and rage that fueled some of his [i]best[/i] work would be necessary before this was over, with or without the backup due to arrive the next morning. 

	Backup! Mierda. He needed to make some minor preparations before then. It could be done by phone, but he had to get it together before close of business today. Caesar reached into his pocket for his phone, quite surprised when it buzzed quietly in his hand. He had just received a text message of his own... and from an unknown number. 

	The number, while unknown, was somehow familiar. Caesar stared at it for a few seconds before rummaging through his jacket. He produced a slightly creased business card he had been handed the previous night, after the brouhaha with Danica Graves. The beginnings of a confused look taking his face, he spoke aloud, [color=orangered]"M'hija, thank you. Cookie, please let me know what you find out. I have to go now. Apparently someone murdered Detective Gregory's boss, and he wants me to give him a ride someplace."[/color] 

	What the hell? Couldn't hurt to foster some goodwill with the one cop that looks like he's actually trying to do his job. But he wasn't going to get all friendly just yet. He left the security room after collecting his personals and information, then headed over to the company's motor pool. Caesar grabbed a spare motorcycle helmet and put in a request for a company vehicle to me made ready for an incoming Agent, then jogged out to his [url=http://angloisrael.com/reversetrike/scorpion-vrod16.jpg]trike[/url]. Minor irritation evident, he shoved the helmet into a saddlebag, grabbed his own, and took a moment to answer the incoming text. 

[center][i][color=orangered][u]Sorry to hear. Be there in 15. You're riding bitch.[/u][/color][/i][/center]

	He revved up his Harley and swiftly narrowed the distance between himself and Justice Memorial Hospital.

[hider=Translations]
pobre hijo de puta = poor bastard
verga en la nariz = dick in their nose
esa puta estupida = that stupid bitch
Mierda = Shit
[/hider]