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"No word from Strawberry yet, Mr. Cervantes, but anyone coming from that way may experience some significant delay, what with the sudden Pinkerton presence after that situation in Blackwater. I'll send word round to the saloon should I receive any information pertaining to your business associates. Also, sir, the gunsmith sent word last night your pistols were ready."
"Much appreciated, take this for your trouble."
"Far too kind Mr. Cervantes, much obliged, sir."
"Don't mention it, in Saint Denis, we take care of those who help us."

Diego's fine boots knocked the porch wood as he stepped outside, scanning the crowd that bustled up and down the main street of Valentine. His spurs chimed as he made his way to the gunsmith, his bulky frame used to weaving through bustling walkways. The bullish man reeked of fancy, his burgundy frock coat draped over his fine vest and french dress shirt. The bright white of his cuffs poked out from under his tailored coat sleeves as he walked.

As he walked, Diego pulled his fine leather gloves on, because even though he would never admit it, Valentine was a lot colder than what he was used to. Last time he was in Valentine, he was just a boy. The cold mud between his toes made them numb, and he fumbled whatever English he could. That was a long time ago, and now, the people of Valentine stared because the of his dress, not his skin, because of the pomade in his hair and the way he strutted down the street, like it was Saint Denis and everyone knew who he was, what he could do.

He tipped the gunsmith handsomely, his mauser and volcanic pistol were as clean as a whistle. Both pistols were ivory gripped, black steel with brass. Back in Saint Denis, he was known to use the volcanic as a hammer when he needed to, but there wasn't much construction being done in his line of work. He was from the city, the cobbled streets of Lemoyne's biggest urban sprawl, revolvers and bullwhips were not his forte, nevertheless, the man knew how to fight. Growing up in the city as muscle for gamblers made him quite the brawler.

'Send the Mexican' Claude would say, and debts would practically pay themselves. Other than skin tone and name however, Diego was pure Saint Denis city stock: Fine clothes, slicked hair, tough beard, and an eagerness for money and violence. The people of Valentine were to slowly find out just who he was. Being in town a few days, he had attracted enough attention with the money he was spending at the saloon, but the recreation was superficial, a way to kill time until business was handled. Yet there was Diego, still in Valentine walking through the mud every morning just to get around. With no word from Strawberry, or Saint Denis, Diego was ready to kick his feet up with sincerity.

With his horse comfortably stabled and his room booked through the next week, Diego strolled into the saloon for a haircut and to finally mix with the locals in earnest. The bartender poured him a shot of whiskey as they conversed, Diego wanted to see about getting tequila shipped to the town. Meanwhile Annie, the saloon girl he spent his first night with made her way over to him.

"Well Mr. Cervantes, long as you need to handle business here in Valentine you are more than welcome to unwind here, sir."
"Barkeep, my good man, I knew you'd say that." Diego smirked as he raised his glass.
"No need to prove yourself right away, agent. There will be plenty of time for that, but I do trust that since you're out here all alone like you should be, you're not entirely useless. The local gang around here just lost their leader to an assassin, my people just told them it was you." he smiled, taking a long sip of his coconut as he looked Agent Kessler in her eyes, "I have a boat waiting for us at the port on the edge of town. If you can make it, I will take you to the Trash Market meeting, it's first thing tomorrow." Diego finished explaining, interrupted by an old Thai woman coming to give him a hug and dry kiss on the cheek. Being a hired killer is easy to sweep under the rug when you're so damn charasmatic, "Anyways, I have a ride wating for me outside, I hope to see you soon, I can't remember the last timeI had so much fun with the FBI, perhaps Sinaloa, I'm not sure." he mused, tilting his head humorously as he got up and left.

Joelle handed Diego his jacket as he took a seat in the back of the SUV that waited for him outside of the arena. The time for recruiting prospects was over, there was business and he was a business man.

"About time you threw her to the wolves, no need for dead weight." Renan remarked from the passenger seat.

"If she makes it, maybe she can handle herself around us." shrugged Diego, taking a relaxed sip of his coconut.

Joelle shot Diego a worried look through the rearview mirror, "Get the fuck outta here my guy, you actually like this broad being around."

"She seems nice, it'll be fun," he mused in response, he was met with disapproving silence, "What? Fucking relax guys, I got it all worked out."

The exterior of the boat was pretty inconspicuous, which was by design, but the inside was much more accomadating. This wasn't some spy boat mobile command bullshit from the movies, but for what it was, it was very impressive. Agent Kessler would be able to put together just how resourceful Diego was. The guys helped the small crew prepared the ship while Diego sat on his laptop. Some people he sent Agent Kessler's picture had sent him what information they'd been able to gather in the short time they were given.

"She's here Diego." Renan shouted from above deck. Diego closed his laptop, grabbed his coconut and reported to the deck to recieve the FBI agent.

"You're still here Agent Kessler, that's good," he said, smiling and throwing his empty coconut in the river below them. Behind him, Renan and Joelle glared a burning hole through Agent Kessler, a warm welcome nowhere to be found, the jungle was warm enough, "Now we can get to work, little fox."

They would be in Bangkok by morning. Inside the boat was a small armory and plenty of tactical gear to choose from. "Take what you need, my little fox, we should be done by lunch."
"Diego, just let me put a bullet in her and let's forget we ever agreed to this. We'll hit the Trash Market meeting, cut some heads and that's it man, we get out of there." Renan explained, he was never a fan of the authorities for obvious reasons, but American Federal Agents were always bad news.

"You want me to kill her now? Like right now? Are you crazy hermano? Look at this," he argued, showing Renan the picture that Joelle was sent of Agent Kessler, "You know what that is?"

"Trouble," Joelle admitted "I thought they were gonna send us some ex-Navy seal looking for a vacation or something."

"You're both wrong. This is an opportunity, fellas. We just had an FBI agent delivered to our front door, this is a beautiful thing, think of the possibilities, the doors we could open," he stopped, looking down at the candid picture of Agent Kessler, "Nobody lays a finger on her until I say so. We make sure she's alone, we find out who she is and then we have our fun." explained the murderous mercenary as he took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up a little, his left arm revealed to be covered in a leopard print tattoo except for a traditionally etched Thai tattoo that occupied the most of his inner forearm. He finished his drink and headed for the door, raising a hand to Joelle and Renan before they could finish getting up, "No need, just make sure she came alone. NFA boys, No Fucking Around tonight. The plan goes as usual, have the plane ready by morning, have a care package ready for her, this outfit just grew by one, let the proper people know we're hot and heading into Bangkok for a business meeting." he finished, making a gun gesture with his hand.

The fight below grew increasingly intense, Diego could sense the fight wouldn't make it past the third round. Word got out that The Jaguar of Bangkok was sending life-changing amounts of money to those who had won in a convincing fashion. The young Thai boy in the blue corner feinted with the left jab before bringing a powerful right knee forward, catching his slipping opponent right on the nose, spilling blood all over the canvas. Where the Jaguar went, blood was eventually spilt.

"I didn't realize the FBI let such beautiful agents come to a place like this." Diego mused as he pulled up a stool next to Agent Kessler, taking out some baht and acquiring a refreshing coconut of his own, "They must not give a shit about you. Welcome to Thailand, agent, I trust your boss let you know who I am." he said, offering a cocky smile. Behind them, the loser of the last bout had to be taken away on a stretcher, as the next pair of fighters began their pre-fight dance. "I hope they told you about all the good things I've done for the people who pay me. Now, I'm being paid by the United States government to let you tag along and take credit for my work. Seems like a fair price to pay if you ask me." Behind them, the mother of the injured fighter was in tears as she was being helped out of the ring, the blood of her son on her cheek and hands. Diego didn't bat an eye, this was another day in Phuket, another day of youth trying to break out of the poverty. They reminded him of himself, the slums reminded him of his home. "Does this place scare you, little fox? Do I scare you? You should see the places we're gonna go, you should see the people we're gonna kill."

Diego lifted his coconut with an eager smile, "To new friends." he menacingly proposed.

"They say Thailand is a harsh place, steaming hot and unforgiving. It reaches for your throat if you're not careful. I like this place, it reminds me of the desert I grew up in. Dangerous places breed dangerous men, and dangerous men rule the world."

The night was hot, humid, full of life. The busy streets of Phuket were alive with activity as they were every night. The city could barely contain itself with all of the things it had going on, but the center of the action was the S̄nām rāch s̄eụ̄x, the local arena in the village of Chom Thong. Teenagers from the surrounding area converged on the village for a weekend of fights and opportunity. It was the second night, a night of fierce fighting, a night of bloody elbows. Two young men stood in the center of the ring while the sarama played in the back, fighting to drown out the shouts of the crowd. Neither of the young boys wanted to give up the center of the ring, none of them wanted to show weakness. They knew who was watching.

What was once the press box for the arena was now a lounge, and in that lounge was Diego "El Jaguar" Montenegro, wearing an expensive suit tailor made to his form. Diego got up from his seat and clapped approvingly as the crowed roared at the intense fight. Next to him was Renan
Andrade, a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu master and avid bank robber, just the kind of guy Diego attracted. Renan, widely considered Deigo's right hand man was too busy watching two scorpions fight in a glass bowl to notice the impressive knock out in the ring below. The young man in the red corner timed an elbow to the temple of his opponent, making him go limp and collapse on himself.

"I like that kid, I'm gonna make sure he gets some money for that." said Diego, sitting back down as a scantily clad shapely Thai woman poured him another drink and sat on his lap. Renan looked up and scoffed at the sight of Diego.

"A tiger is most vicious when he is hungry, Diego. Besides, shouldn't you be getting ready to recieve our esteemed guest?"

Diego pulled his hand from under the woman's skirt, "What do you think I am doing? I'm gonna shower this guy in so much pussy and gold. This will be like taking candy from a baby. You're gonna like America, my good friend."

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the second member of Diego's wild bunch, Bronx native Joelle Acosta, a Dominican-American boxing and wrestling prodigy who reached out to Diego after murdering his step-father. Joelle has spent the last few years at Diego's side embracing the criminal underworld and it's ripe fruit.

"Hey D, I just got confirmation the agent landed just outside of Phuket, here's a picture of her."

The long haired beauty that had been pawing at Diego's zipper yelped as Diego pushed her off his lap, the air was thick with tension as Diego slowly stood up and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. After a moment of reflection, he cleared his throat as the furrowed brow of the Jaguar gave way and a smile spilled over his face.

"Fellas, this just got a hell of a lot more fun for us."
"Agent, you've made this bureau your bitch. You walked in here having made it through of the sludge, you start kicking ass and taking heads, whipping everyone into shape. It's not easy what you did, the FBI has never seen anything like it, someone who worked their way up the ladder with such results. Big catch after big catch, you brought em down all over the world on behalf of the United States. Your superiors don't believe it, after all we've seen, a woman would become not only our top agent, but possibly the greatest agent in the history of the FBI. Singapore, France, Budapest, all nasty situations you made it out of. Nothing has proven to be too much for you, so we've decided to cut you in, to really help us get some shit done and put some really bad people out of business. Who are we? All you need to know is we're higher up on the ladder than you, and if you bring us the results we need, you just may join us."

The man in the nice suit drops a file the size of a teenage romance novel, the front reads "Diego Montenegro" and by the looks of it, it's been gone through a few times.

"Ofelia Montenegro was just another Mexican living out in the dirt of High Desert, California. Her and her husband tried for a child five times, all boys, each never making it past a week. When she became pregnant a sixth time, she murdered her husband, cut his heart out and offered it as a sacrifice to Santa Muerte. Low and behold the little fucker survived, so his mom and him run off to the big city. Needless to say the bastard never could stay out of trouble, so one if his teachers suggests kickboxing. Kid takes to it like a duck to water, 4 time Muay Thai boxing Champion before he was even 17. It didn't stop there, he's won titles in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, boxing, wrestling. He couldn't stay out of trouble though so someone gave him the bright idea of enlisting for military service.

Look, we aren't allowed to say much about what he did, but know this, the man is a groomed killer. Read the file, this kid was involved in every major operation during his time there. Now, he's one of the top mercenaries in the world. Him and his associates have built quite the resume across Asia and South America, some parts of Eastern Europe but we're missing a lot of details there. Some of his best work was a bunch of under the table stuff he did for the Thai government. The Jaguar of Bangkok. He's got a lot of friends, he's got a lot of resources. There's even a report in there on a small town in Baja California he pretty much owns. The place is a popular haven for orphans, he and his men train these teenagers to become killers like him. The thing is, he isn't your mark on this one, no, I wouldn't do that to you."

"That's your new partner, darling."

"Give us a minute to explain, we've received word from an incredibly reliable source that Trash Market, a group of hackers we believe to be headquartered in Shanghai have reached out to some naughty people in Russia we've been keeping tabs on for quite some time. They've decided to meet on neutral ground in Bangkok for what we presume to be their first meeting. Trash Market has hit us before and it's possible they may have compromising information on our government, so you need to make sure you find out why these two decided to meet up out of the blue, while also confirming whether or not they have dirt on us. We've managed to reach out to Diego, let him know what's going on and offered to clear his record if he helps you out. He's agreed, you'll be meeting with him tomorrow, we have a plane to Phuket, Thailand ready for you. You two are going to have to work together to fix this, doesn't matter how you do it as long as you're the one we get to say did the good stuff, and we get to blame all the bad stuff on him, and that's because once this whole situation comes to a close..."

"You're gonna put a bullet in him, his team and leave em all in a ditch, or you can bring him in, either way you're getting full recognition."

"So, agent, I take it you're in?"


Hello and welcome to The Fox and The Jaguar, an idea I've had for a very long time that I'm excited to finally give a go. I am looking for a roleplayer to take part of the female FBI agent who is out of her comfort zone but not intimidated. I have a lot of cool moments and characters in mind for this RP, lots of guns and fist fights, betrayal, maybe even a little romance, so if you're down or have any questions, let me know! Thanks for looking!
Damien stood quietly as the situation was laid out in front of him, some activity east of the Cosmodrome needed looking into, there were Fallen, plenty of Fallen, of course. That explained what he was there for, no surprise. Hijack a skiff, get to the ketch and blow it all to smithereens, simple enough and the Vanguard had brought together the perfect group of Guardians to make it all happen. Damien shook his head and smiled when the briefing was over, Cayde giving the floor to the fireteam as a few Guardians spoke out. Liara materialized just over his shoulder as silence took over and it was his turn to talk.

"You guys send me to Venus for three months and this happens, nice. I'd say Devils, they've got a stronger lock on that side of the drome and they love scrounging around even the most desolate parts of the place for whatever they can use. House Kings are all about sure things, I'm sure they're not a part of the picture here. You guys are pretty clever, I see what we got going on here. Verstan can hack the pilot servitor once we clear the skiff, Spectre's about the only Guardian in the world crazy enough to pilot one up to the ketch, the rest of us will clear a path to the prime servitor of the ship, Simon's ward about the only thing that can keep all the high ranking Elinski the ketch is holding out of the throne room."

"At least, that's how we'd do this." Liara interjected.

"How'd you guys want us to get this going? It's possible, I know that's a fact, we just got to get the ball rolling, and folks..."

"This is a mighty big ball." Liara finished.
Loving it so far, will post tonight when I get home!
Damien remained pretty quiet as the rest of the Guardians reported in, his interaction with Verstand was the first time he had conversed with anyone other than Liara in weeks. Simon arrived and Damien nodded, making eye contact with the Defender, keeping his helmet at his side. Another arrived, a Hunter named Spectre. They had a person in common, Petra Venj of the Queen's Wrath whom they've ran tasks for in the past. This was becoming more and more of an interesting development.

"Doing well sir, would like to figure out whats going on so we can get going, no rest for the wicked and such." he replied, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't trying to make a good first impression with Simon, any Titan would be crazy not to.

The last Guardian, a Warlock by the name of Hadron-12 made his approach, seemingly uncurious by the vagueness of his summons, or why he was with strangers he must have never worked with before. Two Warlocks, one of which was known for his extensive knowledge. Two Titans, one of which was known for his extensive experience, and a Hunter with Sanction Six clearance, known for being a bit of a wild card. A diverse group, leaning towards a specialization in void abilities. Damien looked around himself and thought about how random the team may seem, yet how calculated it really was.

The Sunbreaker's curiosity stirred as every passing second passed, calmly holding his helmet to his side as the setting sun glared off of the blade of his sword. "Zavala's usually not one to keep a Guardian waiting, whatever this is could be serious, you may be right." he spoke to Verstand.

Damien stood firmly as he stared out into the distance, the vastness of The Last City reaching out into the distance where the walls shot up like mountains. Behind him, hangar workers labored to remove the servitor core from his Kestrel Class AX, a little something for the Tower Archives to study. The servitor core belonged to a Wolf Servitor belonging to a raiding party made up of remnants of the Fallen House of Wolves, Damien had been tracking them throughout the expanse caves of Venus for a while and determined it was the oldest and possessed the most information. The deep humming of machinery continued behind him as his Ghost, Liara materialized just to his side, sassy little thing. Beeping and whirring, her eye moved erratic as she went through all of the messages and information The Tower was sending her. Damien felt conversation approaching, he uncrossed his arms and began to take a walk, there was always more to do, especially since it had been a few months since he had seen The Tower.

"Looks like they're almost done with the servitor core."
"Good, any more loose ends while we're here?"
"Let's see. Ol' Shaxxy would like you to participate in the upcoming Crucible games, that could be interes-"
"No thank you, much more important things we can do." Damien responded without hesitation, stepping out into the sun and down some stairs.
"With a record like yours, he's never gonna stop asking..." The Ghost received nothing but silence, "...ok fine, let's see, Banshee, routine maintenance, etc etc, we sure do live an exciting life."
"Your gratitude is overwhelming." Damien responded, dryly.
"You know, I try, I really do." the Ghost didn't miss a beat.

For the next while Damien made the rounds like he usually did, keeping to himself and never really stopping to talk to anybody he didn't have to or see anything he didn't need, he had his guns serviced by Banshee, turned in some engrams to the Cryptarch and did some routine rearranging of all the different things he had accumulated in his vault. The glimmer he received from the numerous bounties he had turned in went straight into weapon, sparrow and ship maintenance. This was all he did, recognized by only a few people who knew who he was and what he did. The day carried on seemingly without a hitch, Damien picking up his weapons, his sword sharpened by Banshee's workers as he stuck it to his back and prepared to pick up his ship and patrol the Cosmodrome for Devil activity. The thought of finding the Devil Kell and exacting some violent revenge was enough to zone Damien out, missing the announcement that his presence was requested completely. It took Liara materializing and getting right in front of Damien to snap him out of his thoughts.

"Did you hear that? Commander Zavala needs to see you pronto."
"Whats the deal?"
"No idea, but you're not the only one."

What could it possibly be? Damien and Zavala had met plenty of times before, but being called in as a part of a group was weird, not what Damien was used to. Thoughts and speculations raced through Damien's head as he walked over to the Vanguard center, the Fallen chain mail on his Titan mark chinging like spurs on cowboy boots as he took each heavy step. He was an army of one, a brawler that was guaranteed the win if he got close enough, but for now he was just curious as to what could possibly be developing. Descending the stairs towards his destination, Damien saw Verstand-08 had arrived before anyone else. Damien simply nodded to the Exo Warlock, standing silently as he folded his arms. There was nothing but awkward silence until Liara decided to intervene.

"Psst, that's Verstand-08 from the Tower Archives."
"I know who that is, I'm sure he can hear you too."
"Sorry, we don't get out much." Liara turned to Verstand, shaking in humorous embarrassment.
"We get out plenty." Damien tried to argue.
"Well yeah just not like, with other Guar-" Liara's retort was cut off as Damien stuck out his hand, returning her. He crossed his arms again as silence once again took over, looking down and clearing his throat, Damien took a deep breath and tried his best to do some small talk.

"We uhh, brought a servitor core in today." Damien uncrossed his arms, twiddling his thumbs as he looked down at the floor, "Yeah, hopefully there's some good stuff in there for you guys."

Yeah, things weren't going so smooth.
Posting when I get home from work!
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