[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://shootingthescript.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/machete-2.jpg?w=455&h=300[/img][hr][b][color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Conference Room
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	The old man kept his voice level and even, despite the edge to it that seemed to threaten everyone around him. It was part business, part grief. More than a little of it had to have been anger, and a primal want for fatherly revenge. Perhaps it was understandable. He shouldn't be taking a meeting right now, he knew. Caesar was emotionally compromised. He held it in admirably, but it was only a matter of time before a more aggressive catharsis was necessary. In the meantime, he had to try [i]not[/i] to come off as a complete psychopath. Good luck to him. 

	[color=orangered]"About ethics, Ms. Queensguard... I have always completed the job I signed on for. Unless something I needed to know has been withheld. To be honest, most of the jobs I have taken involved the relocation or elimination of very, very bad men. Recovering people, recovering things. Most of that was for the United States Government. It's common knowledge, anyone who looks even a little bit. Alicia..."[/color] Caesar's voice broke a little bit as he said the name aloud, [color=orangered]"She must have told you as much, without saying specifics. I have done work for every American three-letter agency that wanted jobs done wet and quiet. Or not so quiet. I've also been brought in to protect targets, places and people, from others like me. [i]Before[/i] I founded this company. MSS is an extended family, built on trust. As much of it as you can get working from the shadows. If we are the kind of people you want protecting your interests, I am still willing to go ahead."[/color]

	[color=orangered]"Because I trust my daughter's judgement, the agreement will be honored. Give me two days to go over these documents and make some calls. In the meantime, MSS will maintain a secure physical front. Mr. Keystone will see to that. Keep anything important off of accessible servers until I can bring in an updated Tech team. I'm just not qualified.[/color]

	Caesar's face took on a slightly darker note as his mind curled around the Secretary of Defense. She was the last person that the older man saw his daughter with, alive anyway. She had something to do with all of this, whether for good or ill was up in the air. Suffice it to say, he was anxious to have a discussion with the woman, someplace quiet and isolated. [color=orangered]"And por favor, thank Secretary McCormick for me, and let her know that I would like to speak with her just as soon as her schedule clears."[/color]

	Caesar looked to his junior associate with an expectant face, raising his eyebrows and hoping that the man had something important-sounding to say. So far, he'd just been sitting like a stone monolith in his chair, barely even nodding in agreement. At least he looked as he should for this kind of assignment: Intimidating and observant. 


[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=b8860b]J. Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://bodypower.loxblog.com/upload/b/bodypower/image/mariusz-pudzianowski.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=b8860b]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Industrial Complex: Conference Room
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	The massive, statuesque man sat in his chair, wondering when the concept of "day-to-day activities" was to be mentioned. But neither of the people speaking had any intention of discussing the mundane tasks of securing the complex. Admittedly, the things they were speaking about sounded frighteningly important, but when it came down to it, the large brawler felt just a bit like an intruder whenever he considered adding to the dialogue. 

	Almost as a blessing, paperwork arrived. Something he could look busy going over. So, he did. His attention remained on his surroundings and the discussion at hand, but his eyes skimmed over the contract, looking for keywords that would indicate the gross idea of the nature of the text. While giving further scrutiny to a paragraph on the opening page of the document, he could sense eyes boring into him, as if screaming at the man to say something. 

	Keystone lifted his head and allowed his steel-grey eyes to move from Mrs. Queensguard to his employer, Caesar, trying hastily to recall the exact words of the previous few seconds. A tense second before a lightbulb moment had him intoning, [color=b8860b]"Right. Bloody capital, that. Toss my shilling into it, I'm thinkin' we needs to give priority action to the site, m'self. Jump above budget on our end, flip out some bodies for folk what ain't locals, y'see? I know a couple o' blokes 'cross the pond I can trust, wouldn't scoff at a change of scenery. And we got those 'oldings up in Seattle. They got good, broke-in lads you trained personal, right Boss? Bring in known men and equipment, till this emergency's done and done. Lady Queensguard 'ere wants us international? Let's show 'er what we're capable of when we're at capacity."[/color]