Syndicate Surprise!

January 08, 2016:

Lunair comes across an Arms trade, and she knows someone involved!

New York City Docks

New York City Docks (FR Room)

Characters

NPCs: Russian mob and Shanghai Syndicate

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The docks. They smell of ocean, fish, ships and hard work. Ocean water laps slowly, peacefully at the poles of the docks and shores. The night seems quiet, as work here is slowed. It would be dangerous to work amidst the crates, along the wet walks and so few- mostly monitors and guards, are out and about.

Quiet, quiet, broken periodically by a soft, icey breeze. So, few criminals are out as well - except those brave enough or foolish enough to work in the cold darkness.

Lunair herself is out and about, skulking amidst the dumpsters and rooftops. She is following an arms deal. They seem to be arming up while things are quiet. The rumors of an arms deal between Russians and a yet-unknown-gang from southeast Asia has trickled through the criminal networks, with goodies ripe for the picking.

Red Hood was conditioned quickly to ignore all but the most extreme weather. He was expecting a shipment and wanted to make sure that it actually arrived, so he's on patrol himself. Hiring goons never works out, especially when he's met a few vigilantes who seem to be against this sort of thing coming into the city. It's an experiment, really…to see what could be done in New York. He wasn't a fan of dealing with the Russians but they had what he was looking for.

The skulking movement on the rooftops brings a frown behind his mask. He really didn't want to get into a gunfight tonight, which was why he chose one of the colder evenings of the Winter thus far.

Lunair is bundled up. She doesn't seem to use the power armor unless she needs to, hiding her face with scarf, and bandana. She is watching from above. She really is impressed by Red Hood, even if she doesn't say it. And she's glad not to be on his List of Asses to Kick list. She cautiously peeks over, and she's more visible to him. That hair. It's Lunair! She is keeping back, especially if she manages to see him. There's a subtle, single fingertip wigglewave before she ducks back.

And there, as he walks, are a few men lingering around a van. The Russians sell, the Asians buy. They seem shifty, burly and intimidating while they wait. If he is walking up, they will turn and stare at Red Hood.

Lunair is recognized when she comes more into view and there's a sigh. He really doesn't want to end up fighting her but maybe if she sees that it's him, she'll be less inclined to attack. It's a hope, but he does make sure that his guns are within easy reach even as Red Hood steps over to the Russians and offers a nod. He doesn't seem intimidated by them at all. There is a glance up in Lunair's general direction before he speaks quietly to the Russians, "Well? Are you going to show me the goods or just stand there?"

Red Hood's instincts prove right. But she might be skulking his way. Hard to tell, really. She does seem fond of him, even if she awkwardly flirted with his civilian identity (what? He's cute!).

The Russians smirk, one lifts an eyebrow and offers in a gutteral English, "You do not look like our original buyer." Still, there is some surprise. There may not be any fighting if Red Hood plays his cards right. The Russians consult one another a moment, then shrug. "Alright. Let's show you. You have cash?" The English-speaker asks, as his friend starts opening the van's backdoors. Inside is a veritable treasure trove that would make any firearms, ammo and explosive enthusiast wet themselves in joy.

"Do you honestly think that I have the time to negotiate every single deal that my people do?" is offered with a slight bit of pique. "Cash wasn't in the negotiation. Your account will be wired from mine. That was the deal." Carrying around a suitcase full of cash is only done in television shows and movies. "If you want to reneg on the deal, fine, but your superiors will hear about it and don't expect us to do business with you again." It's quite matter-of-fact.

Moving towards the back of the van he peers in, "You guaranteed that these were in top condition. We had 24 hours to confirm that. Are you trying to change the deal of the contract?"

They seem caught off-guard. Lunair has made her way down and is quietly watching from nearby. She is probably as amused as all hell. Will he close this deal before the other gang arrives? What is holding them up?

The speaking man grunts. "Fine, fine, worth shot," He waves a hand. At mention of upsetting his boss, they all seem uneasy. Russian mafiosos are not to be trifled with, at least, not by most people. They rattle off an amount and at mention of condition, he seems a bit miffed. "They are top condition. Very good! Best." He affirms. He pulls one of the SMGs out. "Fresh off factory, like baby." See? Shiny, new?

Red Hood offers another nod, "I see…and we still have 24 hours to confirm the quality." They can't really fire one of these without calling attention here. It's going to take a trip to the bowels of New Jersey or the wilderness of Upstate New York for that. "Do we have a deal?" A gloved hand is held out to the English Speaking Russian to shake on.

A grunt. "Of course, of course. Am glad they sent someone who could speak English this time," The speaker admits. "You have our numbers, yes?"

The others seem to be retrieving a car, since the van is going to be Red Hood's problem now. The gloved hand is accepted by the man.

Lunair herself is quiet, nearby, watching. This is better than netflix. And he's still cute.

But once the deal is made, the Russians are preparing to go.

"Da, I do," Red Hood answers in what seem to be honest affirmation. He doesn't seem to mind the Russians leaving. Even as they get into the car, he's closing the door to the van to keep prying eyes from what's inside. He isn't driving off yet. In fact, he seems to be waiting for something…or someone.

The Russians grunt, and go on their way. They are glad to be done with it. For the most part, tensions between racial gangs almost always run even at a low hum.

Lunair only emerges after the Russians have driven off. Then she peeks up around the van's windows. "So… no candy?" She teases. "I think you have about 15 minutes before the other guys get here."

Red Hood was pretty much waiting for her to appear, "It's a good thing you waited until they were gone," he points out. "Candy? What do you mean? And I know. I'm actually pretty pissed off that they're running so late. If this goes south because of their lack of planning, there's going to be Hell to pay. That was not an easy negotiation to make."

Lunair quirks a smile. "I know. I respect you, even if you don't think so." She really does. "Mind a passenger?" She asks. "I was joking. Candy. Van." Get it? "And really, why so?" She asks. "Do you have a bigger plan? I was just going to shoot them all. And I know! I was impressed." She murmurs.

Red Hood just sort of tilts his head at the whole candy-van joke but he doesn't ask for any further explanation. A gloved hand presses at the forehead of his helmet for a moment before he answers, "I do have a bigger plan, yes. Members of my syndicate will be arriving, in about fifteen minutes, to take the van somewhere that we can test the weapons. Then, if we find them suitable and workable, I'll be wiring the Russians their money."

Nor does Lunair push the joke. She smiles as he answers. "You have a syndicate? Cool!" He always has something new to admire or learn about. "Okay," She accepts that. "I'll hang with you, if that's okay?" She does seem curious and in awe. "And I can understand that. Wouldn't the Asian gang be pissed you took their stuff out from under them?" She inclines her head. "Or am I missing something key?"

There's a long pause before he answers. "Lunair…" yes, he did learn her name a while back, "The Asian gang is -my- gang. In this case, at least. This is actually -my- deal. Which is why I'm glad you didn't get involved because I'd rather not have to shoot you." She's kind of cute too…even though he wouldn't say so as Red Hood.

Then it hits her. "… oh. OH." She turns red. "I see. I'm sorry." Lunair looks abashed. "And pfff. You'd need armor piercing rounds," She teases. "But I appreciate the thought." She beams at him beneath her cover. "I think they got held up because there's a bunch of half-done repairs and ice hazards," She considers. "But it's almost time, I guess," She consults her watch. "I'm glad to see you." And not get shot. She still has no idea he's Jason. But hey, all things in time or never at all, depending.

And indeed, headlights come up. A car and a few faces familiar to Red Hood.

Red Hood holds up a hand, "No harm done, but I'd prefer that we not disclose this to…whomever hired you to stop this deal. If you want, I can pay you what they offered…" she's a mercenary and he understands that. "If you want a ride somewhere though, I'm sure I can accomodate. I'm sure you understand why I can't have you go with the goods though."

Headtilt. "I came on my own," She explains. Lunair adds, "I got kind of bored. And you're my friend slash ally. I'll forgive you if you come hang out sometime, okay?" She rolls with it and understands it. "What? I can't pose alluringly ontop of the gun pile?" She is teasing. "But I think your friends are here," She motions to the car, which has stopped. A few men are disembarking. "I still had no idea you had a syndicate. That is so cool."

"Employees and I'm glad that you weren't on a job. A bit cold to be out due to boredom though, isn't it?" There's a little humor creeping into his voice before he turns to acknowledge the ones getting out of the car. "Be right back," is offered to Lunair as he moves to speak to the others in Mandarin. Instructions are obviously given as to what to do with the van and where to go. There is also some chastizing for being late, but they're here and no one is shot. Yet. Once they move to the van and get it started to head out, he turns back to Lunair, "I'll take a rain-check for the posin on the guns, and I'm glad you think it's 'cool'. It doesn't need to go past you and me though."

Lunair smiles at his humor. "I see. And yeah, me, too. The cold isn't so bad with armor and bundled up," She shrugs. "Okay," Lunair nods. She settles quiet, as he goes to talk to his men. She stays aside, watching curiously. He has a company? Neat. But she doesn't push it. She waves to them politely. An amused look glimmers in her eyes. "Okay. It's not really pin up clothing weather anyway," She teases.

"Hey, relax. I haven't told a soul about anything of yours." She seems a little miffed. "So there. I am a bag of secrets." She looks over to him. "I promise. I'll see you soon then?" She asks.

"I mean, if you -want- to do a pin-up shoot on guns…or with guns, who am I to stop you?" there's a little more humor in his voice at that. "I trust that you haven't told anyone and I appreciate that. I understand keeping secrets, so," a hand goes to his chest and he gives a little bow, "Thank you."

The van and car drive off leaving the two alone once again. "You will, I'm sure. I'm sorry to spoil your fun, but…I owe you a coffee or two."

Lunair laughs softly. "Thanks," She offers. "And I haven't. I'm glad." She smiles, and bows back. Lunair is amused by his replies, and seems happy enough for his thanks. "Okay. And you so do. It's quite alright. I know the nature of our work." Nod. "Be well, alright?" She waves to him. "I'm going to go do my thing."

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