[center][h2]Growing The Business[/h2][/center]
 
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“We’ve come to an agreement.”  The screen revealed Ellsbeth, seated next to Hafez.  The crime lord’s subdued countenance was a giveaway in and of itself; clearly, the overly generous and deferential Hafez was nowhere to be seen.  “From this moment forward, Headhunters M.C. will manage not only all distribution, but operational security as well.”
 
[i]Shiny,[/i] Root traded glances with the lieutenants at his table.  [i]Maybe too shiny,[/i] he thought.  “I get distribution,” he replied, “but when I hear ‘operational security,’ I have questions.”
 
“We’ll grow into the job,” his mother responded.
 
Hafez cleared his throat.  “I understand that you’re en route to Osiris?” 
 
“That’s right.”
 
The impeccably dressed man nodded.  “As a gesture of my good faith, I’ve made arrangements with our buyer in Capital City.  The China Doll shall be paid her agreed rate upon delivery, which is roughly one sixth our previously agreed price.  While on planet you shall receive the balance to share with your local agents per usual.  With the supply chain reestablished I’ve no doubt we shall proceed without interruption.”
 
Root attempted a friendly smile.  “That works for us.  Glad to put all this behind us.”
 
Hafez delivered a formal half bow to the capture.  “I too am pleased for our new understanding and partnership.  There is just one favor that I might ask at this juncture?  A good faith gesture on your part?”
 
The M.C. president maintained his poker face.  “What’s that?”
 
“I’m told you have a guest aboard,” the drug king said casually.  “A young woman from China Doll’s crew?”
 
“That we do.”
 
“By any chance,” Nadal’s features darkened slightly, “is her name ‘Penelope?”
 
Nips drew a breath to speak, but a tap to her calf cued her to silence.  “We’re not sure,” Root spoke instead.  “She hasn’t given us her name.”
 
On the screen, Hafez nodded as he digested the answer.  “As I thought.  She’s a gifted pilot who possesses a tendency toward stubbornness.”
 
“So what can we do for you?”
 
“Simply put, deliver her safely back to her crew on Osiris.  I’d consider that a very kind gesture to cement our improved relationship.”
 
Root appeared to be in thought, visibly weighing his options as silence descended.  After a moment’s consideration, he lifted his eyes.  “We can do that,” he fixed the capture with a narrow smile.  “Your Penelope is safe with us.”
 
“Very good,” Hafez nodded slowly.  “When you return to Greenleaf, I shall arrange a celebratory dinner for your organization.”  He smiled.  “What better way to launch our new association than with food and drink?”
 
The biker chief and his lieutenants offered smiles all around.  “We wouldn’t miss it.”  
 
“Safe journey, my friend.”
 
“Mom, send me a wave...” Root attempted until the screen winked black before him.  “Well?” he eyed his underlings.  ‘Whatcha think?”
 
Cheesedick’s jaw was swollen and bruised, but his brothers’ attempt at relocating it proved successful.  “Distribution’s decent,” he offered.  “We know that Hafez supplies a half dozen planets.  Schedule those runs right, we could handle with the Angel and maybe one more boat.”
 
“A Firefly?”  Root shared a meaningful glance with Nips.
 
“Sure.”  The lieutenant pressed the icepack to his jaw.  “All the classes have enough hold space.  You can run ‘em with a crew of three plus gun hands.”
 
“C-mouth?”
 
The enforcer propped elbows on the table.  “Sounds right,” he shrugged.  “Hafez deals in the Central planets.  High credit, low piracy risk.  We’d put just enough muscle on both boats to handle trouble, but with those routes patrolled like they are?  You’re gonna be dropping more coin for bribes than bullets.”
 
“Yeah.”  The M.C. President folded his arms.  “I like those margins.”
 
Nips spoke up.  “What happens to the kid?  We delivering her safe and sound?”
 
“Is her name Penelope?”
 
“Calls herself Abby.”
 
Root’s gaze softened.  “How’s your ear, hon?”
 
“Nothing they can’t reattach on Osiris,” Nips answered.  “I’m just glad she didn’t swallow.”
 
The chief yawned and stretched in his chair at the table’s head.  “Here’s how I conjure it.  Hafez wants us to deliver ‘Penelope’ safe and sound.  We ain’t got a Penelope.”  His eyes swept the table.  “What we got’s a pain in our [i]pi gu[/i] who’s racked up two of my lieutenants.  Now,” he gestured toward the screen, “what she’s got to tell us ain’t worth a bucket ‘o’ cold spit.”  Root’s eye traveled to  Cottonmouth.  “She’s not a bargaining chip with anyone who matters.  That makes her our option.”
 
“I’d still like to know how many trigger fingers are on China Doll,” Cottonmouth said.
 
“Alright,” Root lit a cigarette.  “Give her to Lido.”