"I am against this, and with damn good reason." Circe is firm as she speaks to the other arms dealers in the dark meeting room. The speakeasy had anti-monitoring built in from the stone work and horse-hair insulation, plus some electronic devices. Touted as a "secure business meeting space with great atmosphere," Circe liked it for a variety of reasons.


As did her coworkers, though some of the new guys didn't. Nor did the idiots trying to convince Leon and those others that were, technically speaking, her bosses. But they were idiots. And she knew this.


There plans were to try to form an alliance of arms dealers on the West Coast, to muscle in upon one of the old timers. She objected to this rather strongly and had a great counter to their argument. At least to her it was a great counter.


"Ya know, there is a saying that is old in many parts of the world, huh?" She turns to Carol. She was saying something. Oh, that made sense. "Idiom! Thank you. There's an idiom ya find in a lot of places everywhere. It goes something like this."


"In professions were most die young, fear the elder still in a business."


She taps the photograph in question. "This guy. Started in the fanculo 1970s, has fanculo alligators on his yacht, and is still in business!"


"Most runners in that long switch ta corporate, ta legally sell tanks and jets because they're that good at it. Ta stay criminal and stay fer so long? Yeah, I ain't pissing him off, nor should you if ya don't want ta inspect those gators' teeth face first."

As logical an argument as one could expect from Circe.