7923/Dead for the Money

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Dead for the Money
Date of Scene: 17 June 2019
Location: Luke's Bar
Synopsis: Jackie and Floyd meet up to talk business.
Cast of Characters: Darkness, Deadshot




Darkness has posed:
Pick a place, he said. So Jackie picked a place. He could have chosen any one of a hundred scum bag dives, low light Itallian eateries or filthy back alleyways... and he chose Luke's. It has to be a joke, right? Not so much. But it is funny.

Seated at a booth in the corner, back to the wall so he can face the door, Jackie Estacado awaits a man known among the elite and the deceased alike as Deadshot. The young hitman with an ancient soul sits with a glass of milk before him. Casually thumbing through something on his phone. The dark and dim corners of Lukes all filled with potential.

Outside, the rain has let up. The streets are coming back to life as pedestrians sneak out from cover to go about their lives. For however long they may last.

Deadshot has posed:
The door opens as Deadshot walks into Luke's Bar, the rain sliding and dripping off his armor and suit. The assassin is here for money, for payment. Turns out.....everyone's got a price, and in today's world that turns out to be just shy of 495,000 dollars for a rat to the NYPD. Funny how traitors and snitches end up dead. Deadshot's come to get money and catch up with Jackie.

The mob guy with the freaky tentacles is as close to organized crime as Deadshot wants to get....as he slides into a booth with a wett squeak. "Hey" he says and keeps his face plat and visor operational. "You know one of your goons has been passing info to the cops, right?" he asks, sliding across a picture. "That's the guy, I got four ninety five coming from you guys to take him out, he's getting real friendly with the law. Your folks don't like it. I've had some of your guys, some of the Mob across the Tri State area put up the cash. Apparently they hate snitches.. So what's it to be?" he asks. All business, then he seems to relent a little. "Ain't seen you around though, you been running things in your little Italian empire?" he asks, pronouncing it eye-talian and ordering a soda water. "See, my problem is this. I don't want to do this too close to the cops, ya know?" he asks, and sighs.

Being an assassin that makes impossible shots isn't hard. It's hard when he's a /wanted/ killer....

Darkness has posed:
A little smile creeps across the killers face as he watches Deadshot enter Luke's in full-on regalia. Jackie in his deep blue suit and merlot red tie. White shirt, crisp and clean as the day it was cut. Phone stowed away in his pocket, he leans back in his mooth seat and upnods the famed marksman.

"Hey yourself." A brow arches, he tilts his head aside when Deadshot immediately brings down the hammer. Snitch. To the young mans credit, he didn't flinch or scowl. Just sniffs, clearing his head before nodding in understanding. "See, thats's funny." Jackie looks down at the photo. Lifts a hand to drag a fingertip along his temple, tucking black hair behind his ear. "If it was one of my guys, one of the Don's guy," He corrects without a blink "Then you wouldn't have that contract. See, we take care of our messes." Lifting the picture from the table, he keeps it so an eye is always on that visor. That faceplate. That door.

"So the job comes from -outside- of town. Which is why they got you. So what's it gonna be?" Jackie Estacado smiles wide at that. Toothy and predatory. Amused somehow at this prospect. "You got more than one problem, One Eye. You came at me hard. In costume." He chuckles quietly under a breath, picking up that glass of milk. "About somebody in the family bein' a snitch. I'm supposed to believe you?"

Deadshot has posed:
"Right" Deadshot says and laughs softly. "Came from out of state, one of the big families up in Hartford found out. They sent their snitch to you. The way I understand it is...he's their problem. They ssent him to you. You ain't his boss, so you don't have to feel bad for killing him,....yet they set me up with the info. How do I know he's a snitch?" Deadhsot asks, sliding a manila envelope over. "Guy I know got me transcripts of interviews and calls. Apparently, he got life for it,bbut....those interviews are revealing" Deadshot shrugs. "You want my help on this, or are you gonna match Hartford's offer? If I get a half million from Hartford, and you pay me less.....I get paid, right?" he asks, then smiles, sliding his face plate and visor down. "Now. I have a business proposition for you. I need information. I got another contract I'm running.....so, what do you know about the mob guys in Empire Bay? There's a lot of cold, hard cash on the line, five and a half million for getting rid of a pair of bodyguards. What do you know about that group of guys?" Deadshot asks patiently. "You help me out. I'll make sure you get your cut, Jackie" he says, he's willing to at least offer the mob guy that much....if only to ensure no Mafia guys crash one of his kills, that is.....

Darkness has posed:
Jackie Estacado sits across from the armored, elite killer of killers. Blank faced except for the hint of amusement just threatening to break free. The twitch at the corner of his lips, the sparkle in tbose baby blue eyes. "So I wouldn't feel bad? Considerate of them." The talk of transcripts, evidence, that dashes all cheer from the man. He'd have to look at it himself or hear directly from Family but the effect is all the same. Business. It's business.

"Here's the deal, Deadshot. If that is, infact, your real name." Jackie begins with a half hearted chuckle. No more twinkle to those baby blues. Just cold, calculating intent. "I don't care about the money. Sure, it's nice but... that little mess? You're gonna have to beat me to him if you wanna get paid. Simple as that." One of the most feared and reviled hitmen in New York simply shrugs, listening to the counter offer brings an eyebrow upward in curiousity. "If I knew anything about any Family Guys in Empire Bay, why would I tell you for an indie gig and a maybe at that? There's something you high price, hunter of men types don't get... Loyalty. I know nothing."

Lifting his glass in cheers, he takes a sip. Using the pause to consider Deadshots words. "Tell you what, Deadshot. If this word on high about a snitch pans out? I'll hit those two mooks -for- you. You scratch my back, I scratch yours."

Deadshot has posed:
"No. I don't get loyalty, Jackie. But think on the upside. Empire Bay's mob gets scared. You get less competition" he points out watching Jackie, studying the Mafia guy intently with a deliberate look.

Sitting back, Deadshot smiles, taking out a small flash drive. "A friendly, kind officer slipped somebody I shot these recordings" he says. "Plug it into your phone and listen. It's the two mooks being as subtle as.....well.....a ton of bricks and, oh by the way, bragging about being informants. Snitches, call it what you will. I got offered that money to kill them, but if you do this for me, we split the cash evenly, and I owe you a favor"

The last bit has Deadshot knowing he's at Jackie's mercy. But it's one favor....and he knows he can demand payment before a trigger is pulled.

Darkness has posed:
"A silver lining in every dark cloud, right?" Jackie responds with a low chuckle, a nod of the head as he takes the tiny drive. There's a lingering second or five where he's got the drive, simply watching Deadshot watch him back.

"Fine. I'll bite." Relenting finally, Jackie plugs the drive in and gives it a listen. There is no tantrum of rage, no cursing and throwing his glass. He doesn't even shoot anybody! What he does do is look disappointed. A sigh, soft and theatrically defeated. Slumping back into the booth seat, Jackie ejects the drive and slides it back across the table between them.

"I grew up with one of those guys." He says flatly. Did somebody mess with a dimmer switch? The room feels somehow smaller. Shadows deeper, filled with potential. "You keep the money. I'll take that favor. We have a deal, Deadshot."

Deadshot has posed:
Deadshot nods and smiles. "Good" he says, looking amused, he got the Mob to be on.....well....Jackie to bite on this. "I'll keep my ear out and make sure Mob justice is served. My question is why. I wonder who got those guys to talk" he says simply, looking around then over to Jackie again.

Deadshot nods. "Oh, I feel like the cops involved need to go. They are dirty, I saw them....through a scope, taking bribes from the snitches" he says looking worried, then shakes his head again. "So you have a favor. I get money. It works fine for both of us" he nods quietly, leaning back.

Darkness has posed:
Deadshot hit the mark yet again. Getting Jackie Estacado to do anything is a challenge, he figures with orders from Frankie... why listen to anybody else? Stoolie antics? Clearly works. Loyalty is important to the man. "They probably got their reasons for doing what they did. Everybody does. Doesn't mean they get to survive it."

Hands resting on the edge of the table, Jackie leans forward. A savage, if sweet smile on his face. Jackie Boy could light a room with that smile. He prefered gunfire. "They're cops, man. Don't matter if they're dirty or not." Pushing up, Jackie gets to his feet. Quite the tall young man. "You won't have to keep your ear down long. I'll be in touch."

That said, he straightens his tie and makes for the door. He's got some business to attend, it would seem.