*Another night, another job. As Gillian approached the 'Hellhole', she could hear the music long before she saw the joint. It was the same as it was yesterday, and the line was down the block to get in. Just as yesterday, she had no idea -why- so many people wanted to get in, unless it was due to some human failing, the lemminglike need to 'fit in'. She cut to the front of the line, in front of a girl in a a white top, black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and -way- too much makeup.
~Hey! I was here first!~
*With a smile, Gillian turned to face the girl, and a brief glint of gunmetal could be seen.* I'm sure you don't mind if I go first, do you? I'm late meeting a friend...
*The girl shook her head back and forth, skin going pale.* ~N-no..go ahead.~
*Gillian flashed her a dazzling smile, but her eyes remained ice-cold.* Thank you...*With a quick look-over and suggestive leer, the bouncer lifted the rope and let her in. However, he was lucky she was here on -business-, or he'd be on the ground.*
*Gillian always was one to make an entrance. She looked about the club, and wasn't disappointed in what she found. It was just like any other club she'd been in over the past few years. There was a lot of drinking, people making out in the booths, and music so loud it would wake the dead. Nobody here was deserving of the prize she carried in her pocket, no one but the man in charge. She stomped her way to the back of the club, opened the door, and stepped in. She stood there only a moment, watching the guy in front of her do paperwork before she dropped a handkerchief on the desk in front of him. Inside the handkerchief was the bloody proof of her test.* You can tell Lilith I did as she asked.
----
Ray looked up over the papers in his hands, then took the bottle of whiskey from under his arm and took a big drink. He dropped his feet to the floor, tossing the papers down off to the side, and setting his whiskey bottle on top of them. The old man eyeballed Gillian for a moment, looking her up and down. He hadn't seen this one before, didn't really know who the hell she was either.
He picked up the handkerchief and looked it over as he spoke to her, "Yup, I kin do 'at, girlie. But firs' thangs firs'. Would ya' mind tellin' an' ol'man like me jus' who the hell ya' are? See, I ain't seen ya' 'round here 'fore now. I mighta' got m'self a notice on 'is here desk, but as ya' kin see, it's a lil' fucked up righ' now." He then motioned with his other hand to the many files, loose sheets of paper, and empty beer bottles all over the desk top.
----
*Gillian had heard rumblings of other groups, but before she had been so unceremoniously dismissed- from The Order, she had no reason to be concerned.* I wouldn't work for the mob, no matter how much they paid me. They're a little too *pauses briefly, while she searches for the perfect turn of phase* tactless. I ended my affiliation with my previous group after they had the nerve to send people out to kill me. *smiles, waving her hands up and down* As you can imagine, they didn't succeed, and I'm not giving them another chance to, Ray. *He didn't tell her his name, didn't have to. She'd got all the information about him from her dear pal, Glitch.* You seem to be doing well, despite your -condition-.
----
Ray narrowed his eyes a bit and took another long drink from his whiskey before setting the bottle back down on his desk. He pulled a pack of Camel nonfilters from his shirt pocket, packed them, and took one out. He lit it with his Zippo, in one quick motion, and took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a large cloud of smoke into the room. He gave a cock eyed grin and said, "Yeah, n' whuts yer excuse, honey? M'condition ain't none a' yer concern an' I'ld appreciate it a bit if'n' ya' didn' bring 'at up again. Now, on ta' buisness. Ya' don' like the Sicilian boys, eh? Well, can't say we like 'em to much. 'Em sum'bitches done us a world o' hurt an' we ain't had the chance ta' pay 'em back fer it yet. Reckon y'all be needin' some kinda' protection, is 'at right? Come lookin' ta' the Devereux family ta' cure whut ails ya'?"
Sure, Ray was intentionaly being a little defensive and a little agressive, but he wanted to test this gals metal for himself. He didn't trust anybody until he had checked them out in that manner. He wanted to see how much it took to make them lose their self proclaimed cool.
----
*Leaning over, she grabbed the bottle off the table and tipped it towards Ray before taking a drink herself. Should have at least -asked- me if I wanted a drink, Ray. Didn't you ever learn how to treat a lady? *She set the bottle back on the table, and chuckled.* I've been protecting myself for years, so I don't need any support. I appreciate the offer, though. Now, if you need some assistance in handling the Sicilians, I'd be happy to help -you-. *Ray's bravado didn't bother her any. She was used to it, spending so much time among men of all types. He was probably a decent guy, well as decent as any shady type can be expected to be.*
---
He watched her as she had the gall to touch his liquor and even take a swig. Just for shits and giggles, he took the bottle up and wiped the top off with his shirt. Ray then took a drink himself, as well as another long drag from his smoke. He kept the bottle in hand, pointing the top t her as he talked, "Never had mucha' reason ta' treat a lady anyway differ'nt. Only lady I show m'manners to is the lil'Lady 'erself. And 'er momma', God rest 'er soul. But 'ats a purdy bold statement 'ere, missy. Ya' thank ya' got the metal ta' take on 'em Sicilian boys? 'Em Vincetti goombas is a whole 'nother kinda' animal, honey. I thank ya' should stick ta' the small time firs', eh?"
Ray cocked another wide, shit eating grin, before he took yet another drink from the Jim and just about slammed the bottle on the desk, then waving his hand from it to her. If this gal thought she was going to top ol' Ray in this encounter, she had another thing coming.
Ray thumbed through a stack of files off to his right, letting his cigarette sit between his lips. He pulled a yellow folder from the stack that had a red X on it in ink, done by the old man himself. He didn't reach it to her, just sat it in his lap, squinting his eyes as he watched her.
----
"Nw hol' on there a minute, honey. I ain't done wit' you yet.", Ray said, raising his voice only slightly from he even slow drawl he normaly used. He tossed the folder that was in his lap onto the desk. He sat his Camel in the overflowing ashtray that sat off to the left of him, then placed his hands, clenched together, on top of the yellow folder as he leaned forward onto his desk.
"Ya' listen up an' ya' listen good, darlin'. I'll be the judge a' whut Lili'darlin' will say. I known 'at girl all 'er life an' I knew 'er momma' well before 'at. They're m'family, first n' fore most, n' I'll die 'fore I see anythin' happen ta' 'at girl. Now, sit yer purdy lil' behind back down 'ere and let's talk. Ya' wanna' work fer the Devereux family, ya' gotta' do right by ol' Uncle Ray.", he said and pointed at the chair she had formerly occupied.
----
*She paused, turned around and sat back down. Perhaps her gamble was a gamble made in haste.* Silly me, I thought that Lilith was in charge of the Devereux family. *Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her left leg over her right.* Besides, don't you think she can take care of herself? *It was another test, and she had a feeling that it was going to be a lot harder than killing that little prick Christian Cole.* I'm sure that Ms. Devereux appreciates your concern, but it was never my intention to do her any harm. She treated me with respect, and I returned the favor. *Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the desk, and her head on her hands.* What's it gonna take to convince you? Name your test, and I'll pass.
----
"She is in charge, honey, but I'm 'er Uncle Ray. I watch 'er ass, I make sure she's taken care of. Also, if'n' she didn' tell ya', I'm the fellar ta' see about contracts. I handle most a' dirty stuff, ya' know. N' further more, she can take good care a' 'erself, but 'at ain't gonna stop an ol'man from worryin'.", he said as he picked up the folder and flipped it open. He thumbed through the various pages in the file and pulled out a black and white servailance photograph of a Japanese man. He had all the markings of a Yakuza soldier, tattoos and all.
Ray tossed the photo down in her direction. He then pointed at it as he looked through the file some more. He never looked at her as he went on, in full buisness mode now, "'Is name is Tatsuji Yoshida. He's form Yakuza, now workin' for the Syndicate. He's an ace wit' a blade, doesn't care much fer firearms, but 'e does pack heat at all times. He's dangerous as all fuck. 'Ats yer test. Trick is, ya' gotta' kill 'em wit' a blade an' get it on camera fer me. Thank ya' kin handle 'at, princess?"
----
*Gillian nodded, her eyes glued to the photo. The man appeared to be one dangerous character. By the look of the tats, he'd been around for a while. He wasn't missing any fingers, so he must have been -quite- good at his job.*Of course I can hande him. My question to you is: can I get your shot of the corpse, or do you like to watch? *Now, she just had to figure out how she was going to take this guy out. The first step to doing that was gonna be locating him, but she imagined all -that- information was in the file Ray seemed to be guarding so closely.*
----
He out right smiled at her now. He liked the way this girl thought. Ray opened the top left drawer of his desk and pulled out a tiny black box. He opened it with one hand and sat it on the desk, facing her. It was a micro-camera, anybody with sense could have told you that, but it was made to look like a gold pin of a skull and crossbones. Cheesy, yes, but it was just the way Ray wanted it.
He pointed to the box as he then continued thumbing through the file, "I'll watch it all through 'at 'ere, honey. Ever'thin' ya' need is in 'is file. 'Is complete physical description, the photo ya' got 'ere, and 'is last known where abouts. Last I heard, 'e was in L.A., but 'e lives in San Fransico. But I reckon ya' can catch up wit' 'im sooner n' 'at. Heard it through the grapevine 'at Yoshida is comin' ta' Baton Rouge fer some meetin' wit' another Yakuza grunt. Though, I dun' thank the grunt'll make the meet."
With that Ray's smile turned into a wide, devil's gonna' get ya', grin. He then tossed another photograph on the table of various body parts all over what looked like a basement floor. You couldn't see the man well, standing over the pieces in the background, but you could make out his bracelets and ring well enough. The same bracelets and ring that Ray wore on his right arm.
----
*Without saying a word, she picked up the pin and clipped it to her lapel. She'd seen worse. Once, she had actually caught an FBI agent wearing the ugliest turban she'd ever seen with a camera hidden inside. They never found that body, either.
She picked up the photo, admiring the blood spatters and almost artistic arrangements of the parts that had once added up to be a living, breathing human being with a family, friends, and a life.* Nice work, Ray. You tear the guy up with your bare hands? Chainsaw? K-Bar? *She put the picture back on the table, and leaned back, a smile playing about her lips.* It's been a while since I got to do any good blade work. *That wasn't entirely true, her handy knives got quite a bit of work when she was -interrogating-, but she relished the chance to get up close and personal with someone whose skill might match her own.*
---
"Japanese katana, honey. Don' much care fer a chainsaw, unless I got some trees ta' clear. I reckoned I'ld give the fellar a fightin' chance, so I gi'em 'is sword an' I took up mine. Ya' shoulda' seen 'es eyes bulge out when I cut 'es gawddamned arm off.", Ray said, obviously quite proud of his own handy work. Sure, he was fifty years old, had cancer, and he couldn't throw down with a guy that well anymore, but when it came to a sword he was a human weedwhacker.
Ray closed the folder and slid it across the desk to her. He then pulled another Camel from his pack, lit it, then offered his pack to her. He knew most folks these days didn't smoke nonfiltered, but he figured he'ld play nice for a change. He took a long drag from his smoke, before he continued, "Well, I suggest ya' get practicin', honey. Yoshida is a expert at the ol' slice n' dice game. I know, I knew the fella' 'at tuaght 'im ever'thin' he knows. Ya' watch yer back wit' 'em, 'cuase I'm startin' ta' get a might bit attached to ya'." Then, for shits and giggles, he gave her a wink and a good laugh to boot.
----
*Her eyes narrowed only slightly, and her body visibly tensed for a moment before she exhaled sharply and brought herself back under control again. It was with Ray as it was with Lilith, all about respect, fairness, and loyalty.* Paying debt is something I'm quite familiar with, Ray. Once "The Order" decided to come after me, I had a few debts myself to repay. *She'd learned a lot about Ray, and Lilith, and she wanted to share something personal, something she'd never told another soul. Taking a deep breath, she leaned over the desk, the red tip of the cigarette glowing between her fingers.* I killed the one who brought me in, Ray. He treated me like a daughter, and I killed him. *She paused long enough for a careful breath, her voice teetering on the edge of actual emotion.* I couldn't protect him, and they would have made him -suffer- for what I did. It was clean, quick, and he didn't hurt at all. *She knew it was the right thing to do, that it had to be done. However, there was a certain part of her, a part that she would deny existed, that died that day.*
----
Ray just nodded as he listened to her talk. He had a keen sense about people, he could tell when they were lieing. It came with years of careful practice. He knew she wasn't bullshitting him. He took a long drag from his smoke, then extended his free hand towards her as he dropped his foot back to the floor.
With hand extended, he spoke, "Then ya' done right by 'im, I reckon. Hell, I'ld expect somebody ta' do da' same fer me, if it ever came down ta' 'at. I respect 'at, honey, which means yer alright in ol' Ray's book. Ya' didn' lie ta' me an' ya' tol' m'somethin' 'at I'm guessin' ya' ain't tol' nobody else. 'At shows trust, whut ya' tol' me shows loyalty. Jus' the kinda' gal we're lookin' for 'round here. Ya' get 'at job done, put Yoshida's slimey ass on ice, then come back n' see me. I'll have ya' pay ready and, jus' so ya' know, drinks is on the house fer one a' ours."
----
*She started to smile again, before extending her dainty hand with perfectly manicured fingernails to shake Ray's. Her grip was firm and she looked him straight in the eye when answering.* Thanks, Ray. I hope he feels the same way. *She never got to say goodbye to him, it would have been surreal, even somehow disrespectful to chat about the past before she ended his life. She was starting to feel better and better about staying around New Orleans.* Although, you might want to reconsider the free alcohol. *Now, her smile spread into a grin.* When I feel like it, I can drink quite a bit..*She paused again, something was nagging at her. She felt she should add something, but she wasn't sure what the man would say. He did value honesty, though, so she decided to share.* I'm sure you were an excellent teacher, Ray. Yoshida's just a prick. It's no judgement on you, so remember that. *She hoped he would take his advice, although she had a feeling Ray could be a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Guilt could eat a person alive..*
----
Ray gave her hand a short and firm shake, like he would any other hombre in the Devereux stable. He retracted his hand then and grabbed up the half a bottle of Jim Beam that still occupied his desk. The old man took a long drink from it before he cocked another grin her way, "Shit, honey, ya' thank I'm worried 'bout liquor? I get the shit dirt cheap, got m'self some good contacts. I appreciate the compliment, darlin'. I don' let it bother me none. As soon as the mutha'fucker is dead n' buried, I'll be right as rain."
With that, he took another drink from the bottle before sitting i back on his desk, then crushing his cigarette butt in the ash tray. He popped his neck and reclined once more, kicking both his feet up on the desk. He drug over the stack of papers he had been looking over when she came in and pulled a pair of reading glasses from the same breast pocket he kept his smokes. As he slid them on he motioned towards the door, "We'll talk more later, honey. Right now 'is ol' bastard hasta' get some gawddamned work done. 'Is shit stacks up s'high I thank I'm gonna' get lost in 'ere someday."
----
*She followed suit, crushing her cigarette as well before she rose to her feet.* I'll see you later then, Ray. *With a pickpocket's skill, she lifted the file from the table and again found herself with a hand against the cool metal of the doorknob.* If you need to talk to me before I finish the job, ask Lilith for my cell. *With that, she slipped out the door, out of the club, and out into the night...*
~*~Back~*~
