Mark gave a low chuckle, looking back over to Athena over his shoulder, turning as he took the took the drive into hand, chuckling.
"Glad to hear you're enjoying this taste. Anyway, she'll co-operate with us. We always seem to find a way....in the end, it's usually quite inevitable with our operations. Aye, let's pack it all up. We just need to hold here till the local PD take these into their possession. What happens from there, I don't really give a shit- we have our copies and all we need." Mark added, putting the drive away as he shut the laptop down, sending the drive's data to his cloud-based backup now it had been swept and secured, isolated of any shut-downs or lock-outs it could have. They had no idea what they could be running- and chances were, if the Syndicate knew they were comprimised even further, their networks would already be scrambled. It left them little time to act, but Mark knew they'd get straight onto it.

Taking the laptops aside, he begun moving all the equipment into a secure set of steel hardcases, putting them inside, thinking back to Athena's earlier comments.
"So yeah, this shit runs deep. Don't get me wrong. Not every gang is in on it. Those Panamanians in Mexico? Yeah, nah, they weren't. There's a few factions and groups who aren't. But all it takes is enough people on board for them, and they'll have their monopoly pretty much. It's like McDonalds, but McMafia, if you get me. Sure, there's a Burger King or some greasy spoon on the side of the road in competition....but it ain't the big Maccies, is it?" Mark added rather poetically, knowing the allegory was poor, but it would somewhat put the point across, as he got back to her earlier point.

"As for Morocco...it's a beautiful place. They say it's the furthest east you can go while staying close to Europe. Marrakesh is a mess of bazaars, souqs and all sorts of other madness. Fits a drug dealer's boss really as a place to stay. Also fits us too, because we'll have a little more anarchy we can use up."

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[center][h2]Part Three: Atlas't[/h2]

[h3]Somewhere on Mount Toukbal, High Atlas, Morocco[/h3]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvCgM7A067s&ab_channel=Tourist-Topic[/youtube] [/center]

[img]https://static.independent.co.uk/s3fs-public/thumbnails/image/2017/05/30/11/atlas-mountains-morocco-104.jpg[/img]

While coincidence was a fine thing, in that same early morning, the unlikely pair had made their way up Mount Toukbal, coming down off the summit after taking in the impressive views of Morocco's highest peak. The late winter had given them a good opportunity to get an awful lot of powder, this high up the mountain, and the snowline was fairly low all things considered- it was almost compeletely devoid of snow in the early autumn, so to get this was rather a boon. An African mountain wasn't exactly as wild as Alaska, or the Alps, Japan or even New Zealand or Norway, but it was a line that Zoe had wanted to do for a while, and the Francophone gal had something in mind for this little adventure, someone she just had to bring Valentina along for. The morning was pretty perfect too- a few smiges of cloud, but it was nearly completely clear, if not freezing cold. The petite girl, the Wanderlust Queen herself was wrapped up in predominantly yellow and purple, from the purple North Face beanie she had on, the warm yellow Picture Object jacket she wore, to her purple-coloured ski-pants, a look that she tried to keep the same, of course, for YouTube purposes. She shut off the MP3 in her ear, exhaling a cloudy breath of mist, taking in for a moment the splendid view as they stopped a little off the peak.

They were going to get down fast, but like all things, Zoe didn't just want to take the slow line down. The line was jagged, but nowhere near steep enough for a wingsuit jump, given how the terrain oscillated and shifted, a mass of sandstone sticking out on a spine yet falling away every so often, making it nigh impossible to ski or snowboard down....in a normal manner. For that, came speed-riding- effectively, using skis and a speedwing, or a minature paraglider wing, to effectively fly down a ski-route, and well, quite literally fly out of danger any time a drop or a jump seemed too huge. It was pretty much the quickest way down, and well, while the French Alps were a more epically scaled place to do it, it just hadn't been done here. Plus, the line looked like it had a lot of big gullies that could be cleared, which was of course, cool as hell. Fodder for the GoPros, and their YouTube galore. Perhaps that was what Zoe did think of more than anything- perhaps it was the wrong way to do things, but she didn't care. It helped her remember, and while they were trying to build something up together, it had to be said, living the moment had something to it.

Zoe looked out, the playgirl extraordinare glad to be back with Valentina, someone she had a love-hate relationship, often in the very literal sense as she sat down in the snow, adjusting her Oakley goggles, looking to the Columbian as she unfurled her own bright yellow speedwing out across the fresh powder. No sponsors...yet, she chuckled to herself, as she adjusted the Gopro on her chest, aware that for vlogging purposes, filming was almost mandatory at most given times. One forward, one at face, covered the whole self-filming shenanigans. Who needed a film crew these days?
"So, how we feeling? Val-en-tina, top of North Africa, you gonna shred it, gal?" Zoe exitedly asked, her voice bubbly and almost child-like, hoping even in this cold, she'd get something out of Zoe's stoked comment.