10-27-2014, 04:30 PM
The kid was game it seemed. She snickered as he called her a 'little senorita' since it was clear that he was being sarcastic. He knew who she was. And he had what she needed- including, it seemed, a line on where her quarry had gone to ground.
The third drink went down and she felt satisfied for now. Well, nearly. "Let me have a tall Negro Modelo. If I'm gonna be talkin a lot I'll need something to wet my whistle that isn't gonna have me dancing on the tables."
She looked around at the still mostly empty place. "Course, this place could use it. Shit, Ricky, is it usually this dead?"
She was teasing him of course. It was a 3 on a Tuesday. Most would still be waking up from their siestas or whatever. That always amused her, an entire country taking an afternoon nap. Course it was hot, she had to admit. But still. Next thing you knew, bars would be serving warm milk and playing lullabies to their patrons to help them fall asleep.
His relief staff arrive and she did have to say this about Mexico. Damn but there a lot of lookers down here. Especially those in the service industry. Which made sense, really. Pretty little thing or hunky spice serving you was probably gonna keep you coming back on the regular, that's for sure. But the staff arrived and after Ricky lined them up for the night, he took her down to the basement. It was nice and cool down there. And spacious. There were a couple couches and chairs, some computers, maps, supplies, and maybe 3 or 4 Job-Boxes locked with pad-locks. Probably where the weapons and electronic surveillance stuff was kept. There was another door too, probably to some alternate exit. Once the door was closed, she couldn't hear anything from the bar above. Sound proofed. All in all, it was a good safehouse. "You got a sweet set up Ricky."
She looked around and nodded her head. "Real nice."
She sat down in one of the chairs and looked at him. "Alright. So I've been trailing three rougs since Cruces. They killed and fed on three vics and took two with them. I found one of the guys in the desert a day or two back. You can imagine what they'd done to him before they left him."
She shook her head remembering the butchered corpse. "Tell you what, if the poor bastard had somehow been alive it'd been a kindness to put a bullet in between the eyes. They'd really taken him apart."
She exhaled. "I've been maybe five days behind them. The last guy is probably nearing death or, if God is mercificul- which I gotta say I ain't seen a whole lot of evidence of in this work- dead already. But that just means that they've probably set up somewhere in the city and have already snatched their next meal. So...."
she finally slowed down, took a swig of her beer, and looked him square in the eye. "What have you heard about a nest of rougs? How solid is the intel?"
The third drink went down and she felt satisfied for now. Well, nearly. "Let me have a tall Negro Modelo. If I'm gonna be talkin a lot I'll need something to wet my whistle that isn't gonna have me dancing on the tables."
She looked around at the still mostly empty place. "Course, this place could use it. Shit, Ricky, is it usually this dead?"
She was teasing him of course. It was a 3 on a Tuesday. Most would still be waking up from their siestas or whatever. That always amused her, an entire country taking an afternoon nap. Course it was hot, she had to admit. But still. Next thing you knew, bars would be serving warm milk and playing lullabies to their patrons to help them fall asleep.
His relief staff arrive and she did have to say this about Mexico. Damn but there a lot of lookers down here. Especially those in the service industry. Which made sense, really. Pretty little thing or hunky spice serving you was probably gonna keep you coming back on the regular, that's for sure. But the staff arrived and after Ricky lined them up for the night, he took her down to the basement. It was nice and cool down there. And spacious. There were a couple couches and chairs, some computers, maps, supplies, and maybe 3 or 4 Job-Boxes locked with pad-locks. Probably where the weapons and electronic surveillance stuff was kept. There was another door too, probably to some alternate exit. Once the door was closed, she couldn't hear anything from the bar above. Sound proofed. All in all, it was a good safehouse. "You got a sweet set up Ricky."
She looked around and nodded her head. "Real nice."
She sat down in one of the chairs and looked at him. "Alright. So I've been trailing three rougs since Cruces. They killed and fed on three vics and took two with them. I found one of the guys in the desert a day or two back. You can imagine what they'd done to him before they left him."
She shook her head remembering the butchered corpse. "Tell you what, if the poor bastard had somehow been alive it'd been a kindness to put a bullet in between the eyes. They'd really taken him apart."
She exhaled. "I've been maybe five days behind them. The last guy is probably nearing death or, if God is mercificul- which I gotta say I ain't seen a whole lot of evidence of in this work- dead already. But that just means that they've probably set up somewhere in the city and have already snatched their next meal. So...."
she finally slowed down, took a swig of her beer, and looked him square in the eye. "What have you heard about a nest of rougs? How solid is the intel?"