"Hmmmm, yes," he replies, before falling silently for a time. He closes his eyes, apparently deep in thought, and when he opens them again, he leans forward, his hands on his knees, and locks eyes with Jack.
"So, let me be certain I understand your offer. You are offering to take care of my problem with these hoodlums in exchange for a place to stay. Is this all you seek, and if so, why do you offer so much for so low a cost? Are you attempting to hide from someone? Do you have powerful enemies that you would bring to my door?"
Jack can nosently say he didn't expect this guy to speak much better than the other gansters here. Must have went to a better school or something. "Well, it works a little like this. Say if I want to stay here but not get rid of those guys, I sure as hell won't live long if the place is under constant gunfire." Jack tired to supress a laugh at the last part, at best he couldn't help by smirk. "I'm hiding from no-one Mate and any enemies I have are most likely not around anymore."
The dark-skinned man nods his head. "Very well, but none of this answers my first question: Why do you offer so much at so low a cost? You seem an intelligent man, Jack, and one would expect that an intelligent man possessing the talents you profess would be able to easily arrange for acceptable lodging without worry of frequent gunfire. So, you no doubt understand why this causes me some suspicion. "
His dark eyes are almost hypnotic, and Jack gets the impression they do not miss much.
Jack arched an eyebrow, though you really couldn't see it.This one really is smarter than the dumb asses downstairs...Could be useful later on.
Jack relaxed his face again and continued smiling. "Think of it as me being generous for a change. I could find my own place, but there isn't much in the housing market that suits what I prefer. Besides, one less gang to cause trouble on these streets so this deal benefits you, me and the city as a whole."
He was sure that sounded convincing. If not, he would have to pull more Majesty and hope for the best. I hate working on the fly sometimes...
"Hm," is all he says, clearly not entirely satisfied by Jack's answer. The man sits back in his chair, his fingers templed again. His face is motionless, not even blinking, as he studies Jack's face. After a minute or two, he replies.
"My life experience has taught me to be wary of generosity. Too often the hand offering something serves to distract one from the other hand, which holds the machete. But, there is also that saying regarding gift horses.
"As it happens, those responsible for tonight's disturbance...well, let it just be said I have plans for dealing with them. But there are always other jobs needing done.
"Tell me, Jack, are there limits on the sorts of jobs you will accept?"
Perhaps a little too smart. Jack though as he listened to the man. He had forgoten how difficult negotiations could be. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was kicking himself for not listening to his Sires advice about this sort of thing.
He seemed to think about this for a moment. "Depends on the job. Just so long as it's not during the day, I'm usually too tired to do anything usefull at that time."
The man nods. "Such work as I am talking about is best done by night, to draw upon the fear most have of the dark." He grins, showing even, very white teeth. "I have no such fear, but I am willing to use others' weaknesses against them."
He lifts his left hand to head level and snaps his fingers. The woman behind and to the left of his chair steps forward and hands him a red folder. He opens it, takes out a photo and holds it up to show it to Jack.
The photo depicts a very pretty African-American girl, probably around 12 years old. She is dressed in a dance outfit and has her hair done in two neat braids.
"I want this girl hurt very badly, in a specific way, and severely enough that she will never completely recover. Would you have a problem doing this, Jack?" His dark eyes lock with Jack's as he asks this question.
Jack looked at the photo for a few seconds. She didn't appear to be very important, nor did he see much reason to do so.
But Jack made it this far, there was really no way of turning back without getting slaughtered or at least get shot up badly. Not with his body so weak.
"What do you have in mind?"
"She is a dancer. Quite talented, I am told, very promising. I want her to be shot through both knees in some manner from which she will not be able to recover fully. If she can eventually walk, but not dance, all the better. Even better yet would be if it can be arranged for this to occur in view of one or both of her parents, though that is not absolutely necessary."
The man's voice is as even and calm as if he were ordering appetizers at a restaurant.
"Hm..." Curiousity was starting to plauge Jacks mind. He had little idea why this man would want a simple girl like this to have her legs shot through and destroyed.
"I'm sure that what I'm about to ask doesn't matter, but why this girl?"
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