Find the Red Cat

March 24, 2018:

A job interview in the Hellhouse leads to a work in Brazil for Domino and Grifter.

The Hellhouse, Chicago

Rowdy bar for mercenaries


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

One would think the weather in Chicago, infamous as it is, would be worse than in Gotham. But no, for some odd reason Gotham gets it worse, every single time. Why did Grifter settle in Gotham anyway? Oh yeah, it is theoretically a better place to hide.

Seriously having second thoughts about it. It is almost midnight in Chicago, it is freezing outside, and it is still WAY nicer than it was Gotham this morning.

Grifter has been in the Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, aka the Hellhouse, before, certainly. Years ago. The place has changed little, although the guy behind the bar is different, some tables have changed places, and the crowd is also different. Some familiar faces, most of them getting old. Grifter looks too young for a man who is 50. A small reminder for the old crowd he is not a normal man anymore.

Unmasked, since there is little to hide here, he scans the place carefully, then heads for the bar to ask for a bottled beer. Finally, when he is pretty sure no one here is going to shoot him, he heads for a table near the back, and to the monochromatic mercenary lady that has claimed it. Of course he has heard about Domino. She has decent reputation, which is why he is fairly optimistic about this job.

Domino is already talking to Grifter's mysterious contact at a nondescript table in the back. She's dressed in all black leather like a boss and her guns are carefully hidden about her outfit. She has a little glass of vodka in front of her and it looks like she hasn't had very much, since she's been arguing with Grifter's mysterious contact. "Stop complainin' Domino. The other guy I told you about is here—I don't think you two guys are gonna have trouble with dis one eh?" he comments.

Domino fingers her drink and eyes Grifter's mysterious contact with skepticism, "Smells like bad news to me," she mutters complainitorily. She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs, then glances at Grifter as he comes up to the table.

Grifter nods to Domino, offering the woman a pleasant smile, the kind that says 'I am totally harmless, seriously,' and that if it was real would mean he had no business here. It is a smile very, very few mercenaries can manage.

"You must be Domino," he tells the woman. "Great to meet you in person, I love your work. Big fan." He flops down in a seat and sips from his beer. "I am Cole, hello!" Then looks at their employer, as if just now he realized there was someone else in the table. "And you are… that guy… with the problem. And the money."

Because yeah, Cole Cash, the Grifter. Twenty years in the mercenary business. Totally professional. Not. First impressions are the worst.

Domino looks deadpan at this Cole guy while he blabbers on and then looks back at Grifter's mysterious contact, "This better not be a setup," she mutters. The guy holds his hands up like he's under arrest and smiles innocently, "Listen, this thing's gonna get done and the best way is for both of yous to do it together. Here's the deal. You two go get El Gato Rojo and bring it on back to me. Easy, right? The Big Boss is funding the whole thing anyway, so yous got nothing to complain about I should thinks, right? I'd like to deliver El Gato in a timely manner, you knows? So snap snap," he explains, fooling with his glasses as he explains the situation. After polishing them up, he puts them back on and peers at Grifter, "Okays, so what's your first question, pally?" he asks.

"El Gato Rojo?" Grifter squints eyes, sips beer, and then responds. "Speak English, buddy. What the hell is a gato rojo? Sounds like an energy drink," pause. "Nothing against energy drinks. If that is your poison and you are paying all you said you are paying I'll get it back to you."

He glances at Domino, to see what she thinks about this. Actually to see if she knows enough Spanish to know what a gato rojo is. He is admitting nothing.

"So where is this rojo thing anyway?" He offers, glancing back to the man. "And who is the Big Boss. It sounds like a very unoriginal name, by the way. He better not be the Red Skull or the Joker."

Domino sighs, "A red cat? What is this? A joke" she asks. Grifter's mysterious contact gives them The Eye, peering at Grifter through his glasses, "Don't be lookin' at me like that. I see your look. It's a…Gato. A cat. Yeah you know, it's Spanish. It's a wooden idol or some crap like that. I'm just tellin ya what the deal is, get me? Just bring it back here in one piece and you got the goods comin to ya," he explains with a motion of his hand, meaning that his boss will pay up for the good work. "Hey man, I'm not doin all the work for yous, just go and gets it," he adds.

Domino sighs at this dumb situation, "Okay fine, we'll get your Gato. We'll bring it back and hand it over. What's the catch?" she asks.

Grifter's mysterious contact holds his hands out, as if claiming to be innocent, "Ain't no catch Domino. Listen, yous guys gonna do this for the Boss or what? Here's where yous gotta go. It's somewheres in this area," he explains, sliding a map in front of Grifter and circling the area with his fat finger, "Right here, on the water of the Tapajos near Santarem."

"Oh, some piece of art? Sure, no problem," agrees Cole. He will even do some research later, when no one can see him doing research. Art pieces are tricky because they break easily. He has ruined some priceless archeological discoveries in his time. It sucks, he rarely gets paid afterwards.

The blonde man checks the map and smirks, "Brazil? I am starting to like this gig. Fuck the Chicago weather, and double fuck Gotham's weather. Seriously," he finishes his beer.

Grifter's mysterious contact smirks now and taps his map with his fat finger, "It ain't in no museum pally. I heard the Pandillas hid it but that's just what I heard," he tells them.

"Fine fine, we'll find it," Domino concedes and glances at Grifter, probably thinking she'll have to watch him around priceless artifacts, "Okay I'm good. Any more questions….pally?" she asks Grifter amusedly.

"Seems good to me," replies Grifter. Except for the parts he doesn't know what the Red Cat is, or the Big Boss. But he will try to find out before leaving, he has some contacts. Not that it wouldn't be the first time he goes blind into one of these cappers.

"I got a question? Do we have transportation or is that up to us?" Because getting his weapons to Brazil is going to be expensive, and buying them there somewhat time-consuming, so he wants to plan ahead.

"Are yous guys listen'? I don't think yous guys are listen'. If you want to get a deal with the Big Boss, then you gots to listen. Pretty simple. He ain't payin for the loadin and unloadin, but you can take lil plane we gots stashed at Metro airport," Grifter's mysterious contact explains, "Put all the crap you want in there, just don't trash the damn thing," he adds.

Domino gives a nod, taking note of this now that the little notes are piling up, "Okay, plane in one piece too. Got it."

Grifter hmms. “Private plane, nice. Yeah, I guess I am in,” mostly because he needs the cash badly. As usual. That Domino also accepted the contract is a plus. “When are we leaving?” He asks, glancing as the empty bottle, then pushing it aside. “Is there any special gear we would need for this?” Details, details. Like how much are they getting paid.

Domino stands up from the table and says, "We'll probably have to traipse through the jungle. And you'll need to be armed, obviously," she tells him, "I'll meet you at the airfield later and we can load the plane. Let's not do it during rush hour okay?" she tries to tell him. She puts a hand on her hip as she adds, "So anything else?" she asks.

Grifter looks up at Domino, then at the contact, and shakes his head, standing up. “Nah, all clear. Want to get a drink before we go?” He gestures to the bar. And vocalizes a ‘gotta talk to you.’

He will also pay for the drink, of course. But it is quick. “Listen. I don’t like when the employer doesn’t tell me the name. It rarely means anything good. Too many times it ends up being someone I wouldn’t have wanted to work. And sometimes it is a government agency doing something illegal.” She probably can figure it out herself, but he adds, “I am going to do some investigation. Meet you in Metro in a couple days? Wait, I’ll give the number of a burner,” he pulls out a pen and a blank card and notes a number. “See you soon,” he concludes, heading out.

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