[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://i1.wp.com/hombre1.com/wp-content/uploads/stories/dt%20machete.jpg?w=1170[/img][hr][b] [color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] La Hacienda 
[b][color=orangered]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	It appeared that Caesar would not be meeting and speaking with Miss Maria Santiago (formerly Mrs. Maria Gonzalez) that evening. He had asked around, spoken with the ubiquitous and damn near omnipresent abuelitas that seemed to form the leading rumormill about the complex whenever family got together, and gathered as much information as was necessary to know that she would not be joining them for the remainder of the evening. That, and his tiny grandson was well taken care of, complete with being put down for the evening. In truth, it probably would have been better if he had gone down a lot earlier. Special occasions call for exceptions to standing rules sometimes, even if that occasion was the funeral of a cherished, central member of the family. 

	The concept of the viewing was such that the deceased would be laid out for view for hours, with prayer, feasting, and the celebration of their life happening around them. All at a respectful distance, of course. Actual burial would take place at the crack of dawn in the family crypt. Caesar and their Angelita would have to be ready to hit the airport the moment that she was properly interred and given honors befitting her. But first...

	Caesar and Thalia turned from Alicia's remains, both using the back of their hands to remove an errant spot or two of homemade booze from their face without damaging the designs of the ash upon their faces. Both looked amazingly surprised at the serious, sober eyes of Benicio staring at them. For a long time, no words were spoken. Even as the rest of the courtyard seemed to melt away, they just stood, locked in a conversation comprised entirely of regarding glances and the tiniest of facial movements. 

	[b]"I cannot stop you."[/b] he finally said aloud. [b]"I do not like this [i]at all[/i], but I cannot stop you."[/b] He turned around and left the two of them, unwilling to continue the discussion. 





[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 Industries R&D, (just outside) Elizabeth's Office -> Stepping onto 4th Floor
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] Leadership, Security Procedures [hr][hr][/center]

	Keystone let his hands drop to his sides. Not only did his immediate team refuse to check in, but a completely new voice decided to inform him that there was an exciting new opportunity for someone with a mop and a strong stomach up on the fourth floor. Ah, nothing got his blood pumping like a good, old-fashioned double homicide on top of a murder-by-poison that occurred right under his nose, alongside a team that refused to answer direct questions about routine security procedure, when refusing to call the police after being explicitly ordered to do so, not to mention a complete inability to manage a scene or secure a room (again as ordered) like they were taught to accomplish in their basic training. This evening had been a clusterfuck of nigh epic proportions, and he honestly felt like the [i]exact same series of events[/i] would have transpired if he had locked himself in a bathroom stall with a box of jelly doughnuts and pulled up BBC America on his company issued satphone. The really, really fun part was that it wasn't over yet. 

	It was an interesting feeling, being completely out of control of a situation that he would otherwise have handled as part of a basic routine back home. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Rather hopeless, really, being the slave of a situation that kept devolving into something worse with each passing second that filled him with the desire to burn the whole place to the ground and piss on the ashes until they were cold slush, ready to be swept away by the next good rain. 

	But just so long as another example of human indecency had popped up on his watch, (meaning it could potentially be blamed on him directly, seeing as he was the Acting Director) he might as well give it a look. However, seeing as he couldn't even get his own people to give him a simple heads-up, he sure as hell couldn't trust them to secure the new bits of carnage all by their lonesome, and so trudged over to the nearest direct way up. 

	Fourth floor: Ladies' Wear, Home Decor, and Dead People! Two-for-One special! Mind your step as you exit the elevator...