The city was still cold as hell. 

Veil was an urban metropolis nestled in the midwestern United states. It had replaced Chicago as the most well known city in Illinois and it was both bigger and more dense than the windy city ever could be. It started as a project to create a city more future-proofed and forward thinking than Chi'town, but it quickly attracted tourists and residents of all kinds and became known as the more expansive New York of the midwest. It was also a melting pot of cultures, people, and entertainment with an economy more successful than any could have foreseen; a fact that also made Veil just as much as a hotbed for crime as Chicago had been and still very much was. Gangs, drugs, organized crime, Veil City had it all. And it was that familiar chill air of the early evening and memories of all the terrible crimes committed that irritated Alvin as he stepped out of the yellow cab and onto a piece of sidewalk dimly lit by an overhanging street light. 

As the cab pulled off, Alvin watched for a moment then adjusted the collar of his leather jacket. The skyscrapers and storefront lined sidewalks were all still there with an inordinate amount of people out and about and there would only be more as the night progressed. Eight-thirty was pretty early when considering the nightlife in the first place. In spite of the chill, Alvin kept his jacket unzipped and headed down the street. He had already stopped by his hotel room to drop of his luggage before arriving in the downtown area to check in on the business he thought he had left behind. He moved through the bustling crowds of faceless individuals on their cellphones or engaging in loud conversations with people right next to them and passed by a multitude of bars, hookah lounges, and adult entertainment spots. Most seemed to be dressed in their Friday night best, but Alvin couldn't have cared less. 

He stood out in a simple dark leather jacket, blue jeans, and ebony boots, but he at least wore a crimson button-down shirt. Alvin could never truly be completely comfortable in public wearing full street wear. His gaze shifted back and forth between all the businesses and the other side of the street, scanning to take in any new sights since the last time he had been in the city. He spotted The Club fairly quickly. It was a large, brick building painted in a black and white color scheme with a simple, neon sign bearing its name. Unlike most places though, it occupied its own space and land away from all the storefronts and proudly stood with its own parking and all. It was down a short hill and off a left-hand turn that brought drivers to that immense, well-lit parking lot. Alvin noticed the litany of luxury vehicles occupying reserved parking nearest to the wide building's entrance and even in some handicap spots. Shit never changed. 

There was a line at the door as usual, but it was moving pretty smoothly. Two bouncers, the type that looked like they spent their free time flexing in the gym, were posted at the double doors and two more of the same ilk patrolled the line to ensure organization. One of the doormen held a clipboard in his hand as he checked patron's identification and their choice of attire. The Club was the kind of place you could not get into wearing sneakers or boots and it was important that they upheld the image of prestige they had built over the years. What Alvin was seeing as he approached the doors was a far cry from what Maurice had been trying to tell him. In no way did this look like the kind of business that was losing money and struggling. Then again, the Syndicate measured success at a much higher floor than most and the irritated man figured it was more likely that the The Club just wasn't making enough [i]extra[/i] for the suits up top to continue to enjoy their lavish lifestyle. Alvin shook his head at the thought and resigned his urge to be flat out pissed. It was his own fault he was there, after all. No one told him to fuck up as hard as he had. 

The bouncer raised a solitary hand at the approaching Alvin as he glanced up and down at the tall man's appearance. "Who the hell are you?" He asked gruffly. Alvin took a moment to stare at the security guard before chuckling. 

"Is that how we greet customers, now?" 

"Customer my ass. You skipped the line and walked straight up to the doors wearing a leather jacket and boots. Did you think this was a biker club? Get the fuck outta here, there's no way you'd get in with that get up even if you had waited your turn." 

The bouncer taking names ignored the conversation. Security was used to disruption after all, what with The Club being as popular as it was. To them, this was just another incident they would take care of quickly and move on. The night was only going to get busier. 

"You have a point," Alvin began, a slow saunter carrying him towards the short, bulky bouncer, "The thing you have to ask yourself then, is this. Why would a guy dressed like me decide to walk straight up to the doors and skip this rather long line with this much confidence?" 

The bouncer's expression remained a stone glare, his hands clasped in the front near his waist. "How the hell should I know? Maybe you thought you were hot shit and we'd just let you in because why the fuck not." 

Alvin stopped a short distance away from the guard. They both stood under the extended roof over the entrance, bright lights illuminating them, the bouncer taking names, and the patrons in the front of the line. "Well... At least part of that is true. I guess it's been a little too long, but let me ask anyway. Do you know who I am?" 

The bouncer's stone countenance was finally cracked by a small grin. "Am I supposed to, asshole?" 

Alvin mimicked the man's grin. "Actually, you are." Alvin started to move towards the cocky guard just as one of the doors burst open. A chubby man of similar height to the bouncer quickly stepped between the two, panting slighty. He was dressed in khakis, a striped polo, and bargain bin loafers, but looked like your typical management staff with his professional haircut and slightly red complexion denoting all the crap he had been dealing with up to that point. He turned to the bouncer and put on a glare of his own. 

"What are you doing?!" He demanded to know. The bouncer straightened up a bit. 

"Connie, sir, this asshole here just walked straight up to the doors. I was just getting ready to escort him off the property bu-" 

"But shit!" Connie yelled. He pointed to Alvin. "This man here works for corporate you absolute idiot! I thought I had you guys take a training on our upper-level management." 

The bouncer looked at Connie then at Alvin behind him and back to Connie. His face slowly contorted in surprise as he realized exactly who Alvin was. "O-oh shit... I'm sorry sir!" He profusely apologized. Alvin shook his head and exhaled. He didn't know if he was more disappointed that it took this long for the bouncer to recognize him or that he had suddenly been looking forward to being able to let off some steam. He was still incensed about his new posting. 

Connie turned to Alvin and gestured for him to come inside. Alvin followed the shorter, portly man and made sure to stare down the errant bouncer as he passed him by. The Club's interior was much more grandiose than its exterior. It was split into three distinct areas that allowed the most diverse kind of audience to enjoy themselves no matter what. The first floor was the night club, by far the most popular part of the building. The lights had already been dimmed and replaced with flashing, multi-colored beams dancing and shooting all around the area and hip-hop music was already blasting from the speakers that surrounded the entirety of the floor. Connie and Alvin pushed and knifed their way through throngs of crazed, hard-partying patrons, some receiving a rough shove from the already annoyed Syndicate member. The twosome finally emerged at the other end of the building and passed through a pair of stanchions guarded by two more heavies. They nodded at Connie and looked puzzled by Alvin as the duo head up the ornate stairwell. They bypassed the second and third floors completely and arrived in a narrow corridor lined with doors on either side that led to small offices and administrative type areas. 

Connie led his guest to the room at the end of the hall and gestured for him to enter first, even going so far as to open the door. Alvin stepped into what he figured was the club manager's office and only briefly looked around. There were no windows, but stark white walls, tiled floors with black specks dotted all around, and ebony furniture greeted him with an impressive first impression. The office was impeccably clean and neat and it hardly looked like anyone even occupied it. A far cry from the now sweaty and rushed looking club manager who followed in after Alvin and immediately took a seat behind a big desk. He offered his guest a chair, but Alvin refused. 

"You need to get your security staff in line," Alvin said casually, pocketing his hands. 

"I'm sorry. I knew you were supposed to be getting down here today, but I had no idea you would come here on your first night in town. I figured you would want to rest a little first..." Connie trailed and averted his gaze from Alvin's. He had clearly been unprepared for this meeting. 

"Look, it's fine. It's not like I called ahead. In any case, how are things? You guys look busy as ever." 

Connie pulled some papers from a drawer along with a manila folder. He began writing and examining as he spoke. Connie was nothing if not meticulous in his business. "We're certainly busy, but I can imagine why they sent you down here. Miles has been doing a pretty good job with overall management, but it seems like no matter how busy we are, our numbers are just not where they used to be. Miles thinks it's a sign of the times in the digital age, but I'm not convinced." 

"I can't really offer an opinion either way since I just got here. All I know is that when I left, I gave you all the documents and everything you would need to keep this place as popular as I had gotten it. I'm not saying you're doing a shitty job, but if I had to come all the way back out here to try and figure this crap out... You're doing a shitty job." 

Connie looked up for a moment, but immediately suppressed his knee-jerk response. He knew better than to mouth off to a Syndicate member. "Well, is there anything you need? I can use one of the other offices if you're looking to set up shop right now. It's going to be a busy night anyway and I have a lot of things to take care of. I can get Miles to come up and give you a tour of the place? We've changed a few things in the time you've been away." 

Alvin shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'm not looking to start any hard investigations right this second. The only thing I need to know is who this is and where I can find them." Alvin handed the club manager the white card Maurice had given him. Connie only looked at it for a second before handing it back. 

"Mia Winter. She's one of our bartenders. She's new, but I feel like she's going to be a great addition to the team. I've placed her on the bar in the night club. Gotta see how she handles the Friday night crowd and all it entails. I know they've had it a bit rough lately with the rowdy kinds..." Connie trailed again and Alvin just nodded. He turned to leave the office. "Wait, do you want me to get Miles to take you?" 

Alvin kept walking. "I know where the first floor is, Connie. I'm sure I can find the bar." With that, the leather jacket clad man strolled out of the office, down the hall, and towards the stairs. He needed to find Mia Winter.