Got the life? (Open)

[Lucas Feynord]

"Good morning Mr. Feynord. The usual this morning? the bright eyed girl behind the counter asked as Lucas stopped in at his favorite doughnut shop before heading off to work. He ate right mostly but he was never able to give up doughnuts. Something about that bread with the sweet chocolate icing and sprinkles lit up his taste buds like nothing else.

"Aye, one chocolate doughnut with sprinkles and a bottle of orange juice." he replied as he looked around the shop. It was still fairly empty, with most of the patrons preferring to use the new drive through system rather than come in and get their breakfast. The few that were seated in the building were familiar faces, customers that Lucas had seen on many occasions for his breakfast trips. It was the safety and familiarity of the little shop that kept Lucas calm and coming back.

He handed the three dollars over to the girl and headed back to his car. Though he was starting to get some control over his paranoia, it still held sway over his life. So as was the case, another breakfast on the way to his office was on the table. Traffic was always light with him taking the back roads to his office and he was afforded the luxury of being able to multitask as he drove. With little in the way of a heavy workload expected when he would get to his office, he decided to take a leisurely pace on the way there and fully enjoy his guilty pleasure of a breakfast.

Legit work was becoming harder and harder to find with a sudden surge in PIs and PDs making their way to Atlanta. Unlike Lucas, they seemed to have come with a little bit of money and were able to put up ads in papers or on websites. He neither had the money to advertise nor the skill in web design to make a website and it was hurting his business, having to rely on word of mouth and a disciplined decryption of the news to find new work. Sometimes he wondered if he would be better off going back to running as a point man for extractions, even if his morality thought negatively on that sort of work.

[Staff NPC]

Most people hate routines. The feeling is entirely natural. As interesting or beneficial as any routine may be, it is inherently and intrinsically monotonous, simply because it is literally the same thing every day. Breaks from such irksome cycles are often welcomed, although anomalous.

D-4 strummed his fingers against the steering wheel. There was another downside to routines that most normal people failed to take into consideration: they make a person unbelievably easy to locate at any given time.

The traffic light before him switched to red as the dark sedan pulled up to the line. They waited a few moments for the car on their right to come to a complete stop. The man in the front passenger seat then gave a curt nod, and the men, save for the driver, picked up their rifles and alighted. D-4 watched as they fell into formation around the other driver’s window, smirking to himself. This would not be a welcome break in Mr. Feynord’s day.

They were an unusual sight, like something from an action movie. Three masked men, dressed in dark camouflage and wielding M16s, suddenly jumped out of their car and made for their unsuspecting target. None of them were particularly happy about pulling off an apparent carjacking in the middle of a bright Atlanta morning, but it was what their client had asked for. As D-4 understood well by now, the morning tended to be the most habitual part of the day, with the exception of those society members who partook of more night-oriented vices. Feynord had proven to be one of the former.

Without much fanfare, D-1 rammed the butt of his gun into Lucas’ side window, shattering the glass. Quickly, with the precision of a practiced hand, he reached in and checked that the lock was open, then yanked at the door and aimed the large assault rifle at Lucas’ head. D-2 and D-3 raised their guns as well. “Get in the car,” D-1 ordered, tossing his head toward the black sedan.

D-2 and D-3 glanced around, watching for wannabe heroes as they eyed their target, waiting for him to follow their instructions, or to adamantly refuse so one or all of them could perforate him and his car via bullets. Fortunately, no one seemed inclined to help much beyond perhaps calling the police, if that. This was Atlanta, after all. Crime was commonplace enough that no one was stupid enough to throw themselves into harm’s way. Besides, their client had long since bought off the city’s authorities.

The target was not a necessary part of their plan, and all of them had been instructed to keep their cover first and worry about getting him to comply second. Avoiding bloodshed was always the better option, though a little gunfire was always satisfying. D-4 leaned back into his seat as if he was viewing a typical spectacle. This was one hell of a way of starting the morning off right.

[Lucas Feynord]

If Lucas had one really prized possession it was his viper. The car had been his parents gift to him when he graduated from Georgia Tech and he had kept it in good condition for the few years since he graduated. The fact that it had not been stolen or broken into yet amazed Lucas and he had thanked his good fortunes that it had not. Yet as he pulled to a stop at the red light and went to take a sip of his juice, he heard the unmistakable crack of his window exploding from some force.

Lucas instinctively shielded his eyes from the glass coming from where his window used to be. Before he could even lower his arm and look to see his assailant, they had reached in and opened the door. When he finally did get a look at his assailant, he was surprised to find more than one and all wielding heavy weapons at his direction and barking orders at hime. “Get in the car.”

Lucas looked behind him and saw the black sedan that he figured the assailants must have been using for cover in this operation. It felt like he was in some sort of movie scene where a carefully planned sting for a hostage or criminal had been set up. Yet what was there in taking him hostage? He was no one, just another of many PIs and PDs in the city without any real exceptional skill except his never say quit attitude. He decided to play along however, as being someone's mistake of a hostage was a far better fate than a bullet through the skull, and his secretary would notice his absence within the hour.

"Fine, alright, just put those guns away from my head will ya?" he said he put one foot out onto the street slowly and another, hoping they would at least have the decency to let him get into the sedan without a gun in his back.

[Staff NPC]

As the situation unfolded, D-4 felt more and more pleased. The target cooperated easily, complaining only about the rifles that were aimed at him. That was the great thing about most PIs- being as involved as they were in criminal activity, they generally understood which situations to fight in and which were completely un-winnable. Victims like this made his job that much less messy. Of course, there were always those PIs that thought they were untouchable, which were fun to bring down a peg or two. That would come later.

Lowering his gun somewhat, D-1 shoved Lucas into the car behind D-2, so that the man would be seated between them in the backseat. D-2 rested his rifle in his lap as he took out a black cloth, which he began to tie around Lucas' eyes. They were not too concerned about binding the target any more than that; in their experience, being squished between two grown and armed men was enough to deter anyone from attempting an escape. They could be wrong, of course, but that was what "deadly force" was for.

However, they could not allow the man to see where they were taking him- not yet. The outcome of this little excursion would depend entirely on his decisions throughout it. There was an excellent chance of him getting out of this alive, though for now the gunmen would not allow him to think so.

D-1 got in and slammed the car door shut behind him, and the sedan moved off the line as the traffic light switched to green. D-3 got into the driver's seat of the black Viper and drove off, heading in another direction. The car would be kept elsewhere for now, and would not be harmed unless their employer deemed it necessary. Again, Lucas would not be privy to that tidbit for a while.

They drove on in silence. The gunmen had been warned not to divulge any information until they reached their destination, though they certainly expected the usual questions and pleas from their now-blindfolded victim.

[Lucas Feynord]

Lucas did not like having his eyes covered, it escalated his paranoia and he was in no position to do the breathing and other exercises to bring it down. He was not going to give them the pleasure of seeing him struggle with the situation though, he knew enough through his investigations that it was better just to keep quiet until the demands were made. Still, without the use of his sight, it was going to be a long trip to wherever it was that these men planned on taking them.

He felt the car jerk forward and the feint sound of another door closing and a car moving ahead. Great, they are freaking stealing my viper to. My parents and secretary are just going to love this when I finally get out of this situation. he thought to himself as the car continued forward. He was expecting some sort of questioning or at least some talk between his assailants but was quite surprised to find that they were suited to keep quiet during the drive.

Just as Lucas was starting to calm down and bring his paranoia level back down, he felt the car come to a halt and the driver click the engine off. If he had not been in a state of paranoia, he would have noticed that he had been in the car for only about ten minutes. Part of him was relieved that whatever the men wanted with him was likely about to be revealed, but another part of him dreaded the revelation of why he was put through this ordeal. Lucas was still convinced that it was a misunderstanding and that whoever these men were had grabbed the wrong guy and he would be out of here shortly.

[Staff NPC]

The sedan had reached its destination, but Lucas' journey was not quite over. Still blindfolded, two of the men pulled him out of the car and through a door that led into a dank passageway. They stopped for a moment and waited for a ding, after which they entered something which was actually a service elevator. After ascending a couple dozen floors, the elevator stopped, and Lucas was led down a hall and through another door into a room.

Here, the blindfold was finally removed. Lucas would find himself in a quite nonthreatening and warmly lit hotel room, which he might even recognize as being part of the Westin Atlanta. Behind him, the three gunmen waited, still armed.

"Mr. Feynord. Have a seat." A grey-haired gentleman, presumably in his late forties or early fifties, reclined in a comfortable chair in the oversize living room. He gestured to a chair across from him, in which he expected Lucas to sit.

Without waiting for a response, the man leaned forward and began to speak, his voice calm and almost soothing. "I'm sure you're wondering what you're doing here, and why you've been retrieved from your usual routine so forcefully. We'll get to that shortly. But first, make yourself comfortable."

He waved a hand toward the gunmen. "Thank you, fellows. You may be required later." Obediently, the three men left the room. They knew their jobs well enough to understand that, whatever was about to happen in that room, their employer did not want them to be part of it, and most likely, they themselves did not want to be part of it either.

Turning to Lucas again, his lips curved into a smile that was certainly not meant to be friendly. "Now, go ahead and ask your questions."

[Lucas Feynord]

"I would prefer to stand thank you." Lucas said as he found himself in what appeared to be a hotel room with a middle aged man. He was partially relieved when the man dismissed the armed men from the room. At the very least, whatever was the reason behind his abduction would be settled in a private matter without the threat of being shot at any given moment.

The man's smile as he instructed Lucas to ask his questions was unsettling to be nice about it. Was this entire thing planned out, he a mere pawn in a larger game of chess that he had been unaware was being played? It seemed a reach, but this seemed anticipated, maybe the man was just in the habit of having people kidnapped and brought to him disoriented.

"Who are you and what do you do?" Lucas asked, as looked around the room again. It was a nice room, not five star quality, but likely four star. The man had money, obviously, with the hotel and hiring not one but three men to kidnap him. How much money though and if he was rich, then what was the point in the abduction?

His eyes turned back to the window and the world outside it. He should have been out there, just pulling into work, and saying hello to his secretary as he went through the papers to see if there was anything to potentially go on. Instead, he was here against his will without any logical cause that could come to mind. There was something aloof going on but only this man had the answers and now he needed to be forth telling.

[Staff NPC]

An amused smirk crossed the man’s face. Apparently he was not all that surprised by the younger man’s decision to remain standing. This was a fortunate reaction. Usually, he might have considered Lucas’ preference rude and perhaps insulting; for, when he addressed men who were beneath his social status (and any woman regardless of her status), he looked down on them, or occasionally allowed them the honor of a perceived equal footing. But, because Lucas was standing and he was seated, he had to turn his head upward to look at the man, which was most certainly a reversal of the natural order. Had Lucas been a competitor of his, he might have responded to the slight less amicably. But Lucas was little more than a potential player in his game, whose continued existence currently rested upon his whim. He felt completely unconcerned about it at the moment.

He raised his eyebrows slightly at Lucas’ chosen question. “Interesting. I was expecting you to vehemently pepper me with questions about what you are doing here and why you arrived in such a hostile manner. I would have ignored those questions at any rate.” He chuckled lightly at the irony.

“My name is Brandford Dratch. I would be surprised if you’ve heard that name before. I am the CEO of a considerably large manufacturing corporation. I’m sure that a man of your talents could easily uncover which corporation that happens to be.” The statement was accompanied by a shrug. “And yes, I do know a good deal about you, Mr. Feynord. I have only one question for you, which will determine the course of this little interview.”

Dratch reached toward a small nightstand on his left and picked up a manila folder. The folder contained some papers but was not impressively filled with them. It was unlabeled; Lucas would not be able to tell what its contents were just yet.

“This is a potential job. It is far from being a normal request; if I wanted you to simply find the person I am looking for, I would have walked into your office and hired you officially. Instead, as you have seen, I chose a less straightforward route. That should tell you something.”

He gestured toward the door with the manila folder in his hand. “If you are completely uninterested in this job, you may leave now. However, I suggest that you stay and listen. What I have in mind is not illegal, but simply very difficult. And it needs to be done quietly.”

Pausing for a moment, he allowed his words to sink in. He enjoyed wielding a bit of power every now and again. “Well, then, have I piqued your interest? I suppose I should add that this job will pay very well, and that, should this little operation go smoothly, I have enough connections to provide you with a steady stream of work for some time.”

[Lucas Feynord]

This sounded far too familiar for Lucas. This was just like after he had received his training to keep people from infiltrating his mind, an offer laced with enough incentives to keep someone interested while never revealing what it was until committed. It was a clever and effective strategy for getting otherwise unwilling participants to play along with whatever event was going on. Unfortunately for Lucas, this man held all the cards, he had every advantage in this meeting, and knew full well of Lucas' downturn in customers. There was no choice here, just the illusion of choice placed by the puppet master, but for what end he wondered.

"You seem to have all your bases covered here Mr. Dratch." it was more a statement of facts rather an insult or sarcastic tone. Lucas knew he was in position to insult this man, not when the threat of gunmen was only an open door away. Lucas needed to change the status quo or else this man would be able to pull at the strings without a thing Lucas could do about it. "Yet, you seem to have overlooked the fact that with my routine making me predictable for you to procure, it also makes it obvious to my secretary that something is amiss. She is a clever woman, and knows me well enough that her first call will be straight to the authorities. I'm sure an investigation into my disappearance is certainly something that would hamper your operation." Lucas said, thanking his lucky stars that she had continued to work for him even with things turning south.

Things were now on a more even footing and Lucas' eyes the envelope. Something was telling him to just to continue on now that he had altered the status quo, but the resources and steady amount of business would be much to the benefit of his little business. "Suppose I was interested in this job though, would I be working alone or having to have one of your croneys tagging alone?"

[Staff NPC]

A spark of amusement briefly appeared in Dratch's eyes. This Feynord fellow certainly was perceptive. The businessman was beginning to think he had found just the right man for the job he had in mind. This was a compliment to Lucas' skills, though it did not come without a risk. The more Dratch grew to like the young man, the less likely Lucas was to get out of the room without having been hired.

"Yes, I do try my best to anticipate every possible shortcoming. That's what has made me successful as a businessman." Dratch clearly felt no qualms about paying himself a compliment or two. He leaned back into his chair, looking completely comfortable in it, as if this line of discussion, and this scenario at large, was perfectly typical for him.

It was not; he was simply very talented at making himself feel at ease. He was more or less a legitimate businessman. The crimes he usually committed had more to do with financial infidelities- laundering, embezzling, the like- and the occasional bribery or blackmail. However, this was not his first kidnapping, and he had sponsored hits before. He and his competitors engaged in whatever work was necessary to keep them ahead and afloat; and therein lay the problem that had led to this little meeting.

"And yet," he continued in a voice that sounded as if he were simply recounting a story, "you are completely correct. Your secretary has most certainly noticed by now, as have any appointments you may have set for this morning. And let's not forget about the half a dozen people who witnessed your carjacking. That was incredibly messy of my team. Someone has to have called the police already."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Not that it would matter. I've already bought the police. It's a shame this city is so corrupted, really." Ironically, his tone was quite sincere as he uttered that phrase. "Your secretary's call will be accepted, and she will be assured that the matter will be investigated. Then the police will follow your trail half-heartedly, decide that they can find nothing, and close the case. This is only assuming, of course, that you decline my offer."

Dratch tapped the folder against his hand as he considered Lucas' question. "I'm afraid you'll be working largely on your own- that is, without any interference from my people. You would be expected to update me on your progress as often as possible, but no, you wouldn't have to tend to any tourists. The job is a bit too sensitive for that. My people would be sniffed out right away."

He looked up at Lucas, hoping to get a read on what the young man was thinking. "Have you any other questions, aside from what the job specifically is? If so, ask them; if not, I would like an answer. Yes or no."

[Lucas Feynord]

Tourists, that word alone told him all he needed to know about the job this man wanted him to do. It was exactly as he expected, mind games, the dream infiltration business, a business he had hoped to have left behind him. Was it worth compromising his morals, going against the law, and working with this man all for the promise of getting a steady stream of income? "Very well, you have got your man. But, you have better keep up your end of the deal. No tourists and when this is all said and done, my business is more than just staying afloat." he said with probably more aggression than he should have. Yet for all he was doing against his judgment for this job, a little venting the frustration in a passive manner was acceptable.

Lucas was not happy with himself but in the long run, this would make the life for him and his secretary a lot better. This man and this job was the key to that, key to keeping everything they wanted to do alive, as disappointing as it was. "Now is that all and I am free to go or is there more you wish to divulge before I get to work? After everything that had gone on this morning, there was nothing better than to just get out of here and get this job done. The sooner it was done, the sooner the ties he had with this man could be cut.