Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2013 0:56:11 GMT -5
London, England
Safehouse
3:02 AM
Bzzzzzz.
Daniel’s eyes shot open on the lumpy matrass, looking over to his right at the phone on the nightstand. He wondered if he should either throw it out of the room and into the bathroom or answer it. That lead to the thought of whether or not he could make it into the toilet or not.
Bzzzzzz.
Taking a breath and reaching for it, he grabbed the Tracfone and pressed the answer button.
”Hello?” he said drowsily. A voice on the other end of the phone said some shit that only half registered to him in his sleep inertia-laden state. None of it meant much. Someone wanted someone else dead. Same shit, different day. Mention of payment came up, and Daniel scoffed.
”You have the nerve to call me at three in the fucking morning, and you offer me fifty thousand dollars for a five hundred thousand dollar job?” he asked. The voice went slack on the other end of the phone. They obviously weren’t expecting that. Daniel didn’t consider himself the best in the business, but he did consider himself pretty fucking high on the list. And for someone to offer him pennies on the dollar for the kind of work that was being offered was slightly insulting. He let out a sigh when the voice told him to wait a moment. Considering hanging up and going back to bed, another voice came on the phone. This one older, probably their version of good crook bad crook.
”What makes you so expensive?” the voice asked. Accepting that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep even if he hung up the phone right now, he sighed.
”Ok, numb nuts. I’ll take the fifty grand, on the condition that you pay the expenses,” he said. The older voice started to ask what kind of expenses, and Daniel sighed again.
”Jesus, it’s like talking to a five year old. Expenses, you fucking idiot. Travel. Plane rides, rental cars, hotel rooms, cab fare. Living costs. Food, mainly. Then you have our kind of work, the spendy shit. Who’s going to smuggle my tools into the country, through airport security, through customs, through baggage handling? That’s no less than thirty palms that need to be greased. Five grand is the usual, to keep them all shut up. Each. I have to bribe the people I interact with in a professional capacity. Get the girl at the hotel counter to accept my fake ID and the fact that I don’t have a credit card to put on file. Get the guy driving me to wherever to falsify his cab route, reset his meter and GPS to avoid suspicion. The security guards at the dead guy’s place of employment. They tend to spot a guy hanging around doing nothing but recon on the joint. They gotta look the other way. The people who specialize in security grids, they need to be paid to knock out the systems or to reset them. That whole package costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. Probably more than the fee I’m asking for you idiots, because you need middle men to deliver each of those bribes. So sure, I’ll take fifty grand if you take the expenses. And if anything goes wrong, every single mistake is coming out of your ass,” Daniel finished his tirade with a breath of exhaustion.
None of that was true. He had stopped conventionally traveling years ago. It remained a secret amongst his competitors how he managed to not only beat them everywhere they went, but also how he was able to slip into different countries and have no one be aware he was in said country. A lot of them had government contacts, which enabled them to move around some countries without a lot of trouble. But he had none, and he was still ahead of them at every turn. It baffled them all, and it remained Daniel’s closest guarded secret of his trade.
Everything else was bullshit in the fact that he was a very unassuming man. No one ever quite remembered him as more than a tall man with blonde hair. Depending on where you were, that either made him one of several hundred tourists or foreigners, or one of the billion other similar men. He carried fake credentials on most jobs, that could just be burned like nothing if he needed to ditch them. Among them were fake credit cards for such occasions, that wouldn’t raise any red flags when entered into a system, but didn’t actually have an account attached to them. He had turned every aspect of this into a science, and there was literally no other gun for hire in the world who could do this job as efficiently and as low key as Daniel.
Silence filled the other line and Daniel smirked to himself as he broke said silence.
”I thought so. Half in my account now, half when I’m done.” He pressed the end button on the phone and tossed it back onto the table roughly. He sat up in the bed and took a breath, rubbing the crap out of his eyes and rolling to the floor. He started with the morning calisthenics and began to go through the day in his mind. He needed to get to Paris, first of all. Easy enough. He had a safe house in the ghetto in town. He tended to keep to the bad parts of town for his safe house. People didn’t tend to ask a lot of questions when you paid cash in the bad parts of town. And someone breaking into the place was a non-issue. There was never anything truly valuable there anyway.
Next, he needed to get to his target. He’d spend the day scouting things out, getting to know the kind of person the man was. Vincent Franco, his name was. Art dealer by trade, but apparently he owed some people money and he wasn’t quick enough with the payments. Daniel would have felt bad, but he also had been told what Mr. Franco did to try and make ends meet. He had a big hand in sex slave rings. Daniel would have done the job for free if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold for the scumbags who purchased his services.
He got up off the floor and took a look at his clock. If he remembered his time zones correctly, which he knew he did, Felicia would be up right about now. She’d wanted in on his next contract, if only for the joy of it. He idly wondered if she’d want half of the payment as he picked up the phone and dialed her number from memory.
Safehouse
3:02 AM
Bzzzzzz.
Daniel’s eyes shot open on the lumpy matrass, looking over to his right at the phone on the nightstand. He wondered if he should either throw it out of the room and into the bathroom or answer it. That lead to the thought of whether or not he could make it into the toilet or not.
Bzzzzzz.
Taking a breath and reaching for it, he grabbed the Tracfone and pressed the answer button.
”Hello?” he said drowsily. A voice on the other end of the phone said some shit that only half registered to him in his sleep inertia-laden state. None of it meant much. Someone wanted someone else dead. Same shit, different day. Mention of payment came up, and Daniel scoffed.
”You have the nerve to call me at three in the fucking morning, and you offer me fifty thousand dollars for a five hundred thousand dollar job?” he asked. The voice went slack on the other end of the phone. They obviously weren’t expecting that. Daniel didn’t consider himself the best in the business, but he did consider himself pretty fucking high on the list. And for someone to offer him pennies on the dollar for the kind of work that was being offered was slightly insulting. He let out a sigh when the voice told him to wait a moment. Considering hanging up and going back to bed, another voice came on the phone. This one older, probably their version of good crook bad crook.
”What makes you so expensive?” the voice asked. Accepting that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep even if he hung up the phone right now, he sighed.
”Ok, numb nuts. I’ll take the fifty grand, on the condition that you pay the expenses,” he said. The older voice started to ask what kind of expenses, and Daniel sighed again.
”Jesus, it’s like talking to a five year old. Expenses, you fucking idiot. Travel. Plane rides, rental cars, hotel rooms, cab fare. Living costs. Food, mainly. Then you have our kind of work, the spendy shit. Who’s going to smuggle my tools into the country, through airport security, through customs, through baggage handling? That’s no less than thirty palms that need to be greased. Five grand is the usual, to keep them all shut up. Each. I have to bribe the people I interact with in a professional capacity. Get the girl at the hotel counter to accept my fake ID and the fact that I don’t have a credit card to put on file. Get the guy driving me to wherever to falsify his cab route, reset his meter and GPS to avoid suspicion. The security guards at the dead guy’s place of employment. They tend to spot a guy hanging around doing nothing but recon on the joint. They gotta look the other way. The people who specialize in security grids, they need to be paid to knock out the systems or to reset them. That whole package costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. Probably more than the fee I’m asking for you idiots, because you need middle men to deliver each of those bribes. So sure, I’ll take fifty grand if you take the expenses. And if anything goes wrong, every single mistake is coming out of your ass,” Daniel finished his tirade with a breath of exhaustion.
None of that was true. He had stopped conventionally traveling years ago. It remained a secret amongst his competitors how he managed to not only beat them everywhere they went, but also how he was able to slip into different countries and have no one be aware he was in said country. A lot of them had government contacts, which enabled them to move around some countries without a lot of trouble. But he had none, and he was still ahead of them at every turn. It baffled them all, and it remained Daniel’s closest guarded secret of his trade.
Everything else was bullshit in the fact that he was a very unassuming man. No one ever quite remembered him as more than a tall man with blonde hair. Depending on where you were, that either made him one of several hundred tourists or foreigners, or one of the billion other similar men. He carried fake credentials on most jobs, that could just be burned like nothing if he needed to ditch them. Among them were fake credit cards for such occasions, that wouldn’t raise any red flags when entered into a system, but didn’t actually have an account attached to them. He had turned every aspect of this into a science, and there was literally no other gun for hire in the world who could do this job as efficiently and as low key as Daniel.
Silence filled the other line and Daniel smirked to himself as he broke said silence.
”I thought so. Half in my account now, half when I’m done.” He pressed the end button on the phone and tossed it back onto the table roughly. He sat up in the bed and took a breath, rubbing the crap out of his eyes and rolling to the floor. He started with the morning calisthenics and began to go through the day in his mind. He needed to get to Paris, first of all. Easy enough. He had a safe house in the ghetto in town. He tended to keep to the bad parts of town for his safe house. People didn’t tend to ask a lot of questions when you paid cash in the bad parts of town. And someone breaking into the place was a non-issue. There was never anything truly valuable there anyway.
Next, he needed to get to his target. He’d spend the day scouting things out, getting to know the kind of person the man was. Vincent Franco, his name was. Art dealer by trade, but apparently he owed some people money and he wasn’t quick enough with the payments. Daniel would have felt bad, but he also had been told what Mr. Franco did to try and make ends meet. He had a big hand in sex slave rings. Daniel would have done the job for free if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold for the scumbags who purchased his services.
He got up off the floor and took a look at his clock. If he remembered his time zones correctly, which he knew he did, Felicia would be up right about now. She’d wanted in on his next contract, if only for the joy of it. He idly wondered if she’d want half of the payment as he picked up the phone and dialed her number from memory.