04-23-2015, 07:47 PM
The Spanish flung around the room left Dane bored. He was surrounded by filth anyway, and the lack of awareness added to a growing illness of mood. He could have used a translator on his Wallet, but it was left in the car.
Then a new man, previously unseen, presented himself. Luckily, the conversation shifted into English. Addressed as Mister Ramirez, Dane recognized the name as the cartel chief, if not the fact this man stood in a finely attired suit while his henchmen wore ratty t-shirts and cargo pants.
The charade commenced. They were here to supposedly betray their loyalty to Damien Oakland in exchange for money and alliance to Ramirez. Jorge's negotiation could use refinement, but Dane was content to be a witness only. Until he was specifically addressed.
Ramirez seemed patient and poised, the habit of a calculated man. Why he cared about Dane's wishes, Dane did not fathom.
He stepped forward to look into Ramirez's eyes face to face. This was the kind of man he preferred to speak with rather than the sycophants around them. "Mister Ramirez, Dane Gregory,"
he said, accent undulating with elegance as he offered a hand to shake. It was only the polite thing to do, after all.
Pleasantries aside, he considered how best to answer. What did he want, indeed? A great many things did Dane want, but none of them were in Ramirez's authority to provide. Although, Dane's gaze slid to the woman in the handkerchief, a sly smile touched the corners of his mouth as he licked his lips.
"I want what normal men want. Power. Money,"
he shrugged, and almost as in afterthought, "women,"
he added. Dane lived most of his adult life capable of normal charm. Today he wielded it upon a cartel leader. Truthfully, he would be pleased if he gave her that woman. Although they may be surprised with what he did with her.
Then a new man, previously unseen, presented himself. Luckily, the conversation shifted into English. Addressed as Mister Ramirez, Dane recognized the name as the cartel chief, if not the fact this man stood in a finely attired suit while his henchmen wore ratty t-shirts and cargo pants.
The charade commenced. They were here to supposedly betray their loyalty to Damien Oakland in exchange for money and alliance to Ramirez. Jorge's negotiation could use refinement, but Dane was content to be a witness only. Until he was specifically addressed.
Ramirez seemed patient and poised, the habit of a calculated man. Why he cared about Dane's wishes, Dane did not fathom.
He stepped forward to look into Ramirez's eyes face to face. This was the kind of man he preferred to speak with rather than the sycophants around them. "Mister Ramirez, Dane Gregory,"
he said, accent undulating with elegance as he offered a hand to shake. It was only the polite thing to do, after all.
Pleasantries aside, he considered how best to answer. What did he want, indeed? A great many things did Dane want, but none of them were in Ramirez's authority to provide. Although, Dane's gaze slid to the woman in the handkerchief, a sly smile touched the corners of his mouth as he licked his lips.
"I want what normal men want. Power. Money,"
he shrugged, and almost as in afterthought, "women,"
he added. Dane lived most of his adult life capable of normal charm. Today he wielded it upon a cartel leader. Truthfully, he would be pleased if he gave her that woman. Although they may be surprised with what he did with her.