Regalia - The Crest
Despite the absolutely engrossing media Quinn was currently consuming, he was more than happy to look up when a familiar voice presented him with a familiar question. "Yeah, fucking new guy," He replied to Vee who was, in her tradition, ordering a beer. Quinn never had a problem with alcohol, but beer was a low even he was not willing to stoop to. In his opinion, the cheap buzz came at the expense of the warm piss you had to force down your throat and with the current economy causing successful bars like this to raise their prices, the enforcer saw no reason to ever willingly pay for such a disgusting kind of drink. Quinn's personal choice was always some kind of liquor--vodka, preferably.
"We got problems," Quinn began, sipping the drink the bartender had left for him. He wrinkled his face upon discovering exactly what he was drinking and pushed the small glass to the side. "This whiplash shit. It's getting out of control. If the main branch is calling down here talking about it, we're already close to fucked. I doubt you had time to find anything out, but... What do you know so far?"
Vee had turned around so that her back and the elbow opposite of Gyles were leaning against the counter as she sipped her beer, a rare beverage choice amongst the clubgoers, she knew. It wasn't that she didn't like harder liquor, it's just that she didn't like to drink on the job. Beer was the perfect solution; cheap and convenient. She could see from the corner of her sightline the wrinkled face he'd made upon sipping his own drink, but said nothing as he pushed it aside.
There was a moment's pause, during which she stretched her neck to one side in order for it to crack slightly, before taking another swig from the bottle. Swallowing, she simultaneously shrugged her shoulders and shook her head once, surveying the crowd with a seemingly casual gaze - but Gyles would have known she was on high alert. "Not much, really. You know I came straight here." Another sip. "Besides, it seems like they're keeping this one really tight. If it's gotten this bad, already, they're getting smarter about hiding. Not even the streeties are talking. And you know how persuasive they can be." Obviously she wasn't doubting the Syndicate's abilities to sniff this shit out; she was just speculating honestly. Something he was used to.
Reluctantly, Quinn took a sip of his unwanted drink once more before pushing it away for a second time. Vee knew about as much as he did, but that was not his immediate concern. Quinn Gyles and Vivian Hong had somewhat of an unspoken relationship. Their association could be defined as a friendship, but one that skipped the impromptu hangouts and meetups that normal people were used to entertaining. As business professionals, they were each acutely aware of the other's worth to the organization, but on a personal level, there was an intangible connection that had a habit of betraying feelings and thoughts without the use of oral confirmations. In this case, Quinn noticed the quick scan Vivian took of the crowd before she answered. To most, it probably meant nothing, but to him, he had been thinking the same thing since he entered.
The new bouncer at the door, the wrong drink from the bartender, and the general air of the club at the moment did not add up. Of course, some of this could be explained. Alexander probably sent the new guy since bouncers usually fell to Security. The bartender could have been busy and simply forgot that Quinn drinks the exact same thing every time he made a visit. Though the club was not usually this well ordered, it could have just been a good night. Quinn did not have the luxury of assumption, however. He leaned in a bit closer to Vee. "Smarter about hiding in plain sight, you mean," He said. He stood fully and adjusted his suit jacket. He was preparing himself for a long night.
"If the streeties aren't talking... It means action has already been taken. Please tell me your brought your... Well, your usual,"
Vee inconspicuously clinked the bottom of her beer bottle against the hard edge of the firearm underneath her closed leather jacket. It didn't make much of an audible noise, especially in the inevitably loud environment, but the resistance given against the glass from a point elevated from where the end of her chest should have been would have given him his answer. "Of course I did," she replied, continuing the motion's upward momentum and taking a sip. "'S not my first rodeo, Quinn." And as he straightened himself up, so did she. Vee took a last sip of the beverage and placed it nearly empty back on the counter beside his barely touched one.
The duo turned to face the now empty club. The neon lights were still flickering and dancing around and the music was still playing, but the last few warm bodies were quickly, and quietly, exiting the building at the nearest exits they could find. Quinn did not even have to glance over to know that the bartender was sneaking away as well. In the end, Vivian and Quinn's instincts had been right. It was a set up. Just as quickly as the club patrons left did freshly suited men enter. Seven of them strolled in casually with grins and smirks on their faces. Each one wore the same black suit, but their apparent leader stepped forward in a bright red one.
He was taller than the rest at about six foot five inches though he seemed to be lean in the frame. He smoothed back his already slicked black hair and rubbed the goatee on his face before chuckling. Gloved hands removed ornate sunglasses from his face and one of the seven black suited men rushed forward to grab them as the leader seemed to hand them to the air itself. He cleared his throat before chuckling one more time. "Well fuckin' well. Ain't this a god damn plot twist," He took a few more steps forward into the lights of the neon rainbow which allowed Quinn to finally recognize the man.
"Alfred... " Quinn said out loud, his voice tinged with surprise. A woman pushed through the seven men behind Alfred and took her place beside the brightly suited man. "Mercedes, of course," This time there was no surprise in his voice. "Why in the hell would you two be here? An enforcer from the main branch and an eraser?"
"Ain't you fuckin' brave, just sayin' that shit for all the world ta here?" Alfred borderline shouted. He seemed like a man who naturally spoke loudly.
"Why should I care? There's no one left in here besides us,"
Alfred nodded his head in agreement.
"I guess it don't really matter anyways. You fucks are gonna be dead soon anyway. All of ya,"
Quinn raised an eyebrow.
"Don't give me that shit! We know you guys are the bitches who've been slangin' whiplash all over the city. Smart as hell really considerin' we never woulda thought our own would pull this kinda shit,"
Quinn's eyes widened slightly. "The hell?! You can't honestly believe..."
"Cut the crap!" Mercedes interrupted. Her voice was light, yet mature and her Hispanic accent was still as strong as ever, but her English had finally become perfect. "We're not even here to argue right now. The point is, the top brass sent out squads on each one of you. Me and Alfred came to see you and your cute little eraser, but the other hit squads are probably closing in on the rest of your crew right now,"
"Now seein' as we can't have a shootout right here and now," Alfred began. "We're gonna let these guys behind us take care of ya with their own hands. We only came to look you punks in the face before we missed the opportunity," Alfred and Mercedes stepped back--Mercedes blowing a kiss to Vivian in the process--and turned towards the club exits. The seven men simultaneously began removing their own glasses and tossing them to the side. Quinn took a quick second to think and glanced over to Vivian.
"They're right. We can't fire a single shot in the middle of the city or things could get complicated," He began removing his suit jacket as he spoke. "So... You up for this?"
#
As Alfred and Mercedes left the club, the Latina pulled out her phone and made a couple taps. She smiled and showed Alfred who laughed as the twosome walked down the street and into the night.
The other hit squads were indeed closing in on the rest of the Regalia branch members of the syndicate.
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