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The good, the bad & the dirty. { rskde & Enigma_x }

Enigma_x

Star
Joined
Dec 13, 2015


      • “Roxy, we’ve got a new one. Seems to think he’s good enough to join the ranks. I want you to oversee what Jack plans on doing with him. If need be, break him.” The familiar husky tone boomed down the voice. Her boss wasn’t one to be vulgar, he simply stated what had to happen. In most organisations, it could be said that violence was key. A display of power, a confirmation of strong leadership. In this organisation, known simply as ‘Venom’, violence was second on their list. The majority of their members had been through various methods of torture to prove their loyalty. Anyone could be beaten up and keep their mouth shut; it took someone with a great strength of will to endure weeks of torture and remain silent. For that very reason, Roxanne had climbed the ranks. She had been the one to suggest such a test; over the years she’d managed to build a strong and ruthless group of men. Much to her brother’s dismay, Roxanne was the favourite of their boss. She was the one he called in when he needed a right hand.

        Roxanne had never thought her life would lead her onto this path, yet here she was. She and her brother, Tommy, had struggled throughout their younger years. Their parents had never been around, especially not when they needed them. So it soon became an option that was far easier than making an honest living, for Tommy mostly. Roxanne had done surprisingly well in school and had planned to move and take the step of entering herself in business school. When Tommy came home with wads of cash in his wallet despite only working a few hours, Roxanne was hooked like a starving fish to bait. They knew more than anyone that the world was a cold, dark and miserable place. Life was unfair. So why not take the easy route? There it began, just like that. A simple choice turned into a life of crime.

        “I want him in the office first,” Roxanne’s feminine tone filled the line, and no doubt the room that the men were in. She was always on speaker so they could all hear her orders. “Jack can begin there. I’ll be there in five to oversee it.” One of the men confirmed her orders and put down the phone before taking action with the newcomer. It wasn’t often they had new recruits. The only way to find out about them was through a member or if you’re fortunate enough, on the street. Jack was a fairly suitable tester, at least in Roxanne’s mind. He lacked a certain umph, as if he may not completely follow through with what he was supposed to do. Hence why she was there. It had taken her some time to make a mark and get her name taken seriously in such a male dominated organisation; but now that she had the respect and fear, it was displayed whenever she walked in the room. And it was good.

        The twenty seven year old woman parked her black Audi A5 and began to make her way into the rather unkempt warehouse. It was predictable but it served its purpose. She was dressed in a suit, clearly an expensive one. The skirt clung to her curved figure, cutting off right above her knee. Giving the impression that she was a professional, there was no need to have the skirt riding up to get attention. A crisp white shirt was tucked in, loose enough for comfort yet fitted enough to display her ample assets. The blazer had been left in the car, revealing the long sleeves that had been rolled up a few times, no doubt in preparation. Her long, red curls had been tied up in a ponytail, a few strands of her layered locks brushed over her face, thankfully it just gave her icy blue stare a bit of contrast. The red tint her hair currently was, was clearly fake. She dyed it often, her natural colour had barely reappeared since she’d left her life of normality behind.

        The warehouse fell silent as her heels tapped against the dirty concrete as she made her way through the large, dark open space. From what she could hear, Jack was already taking the wrong route. He was directly asking the new comer where he lived, what his life entailed. Didn’t he realise he had to pick key information, specific questions, not simply bulldoze the man with obvious demands. Roxanne simply rolled her eyes as she breezed into the office. The small space was decorated fairly well. The grey, dull concrete floor remained but the walls were covered in a deep crimson. An old oak desk sat at the rear wall, accompanied by a rather luxurious leather chair. This was the office they’d come to should they need a safe place to work or, well, get information. Hence why the floor hadn’t been decorated and the walls chosen a rather vicious red.

        “Up,” She nodded to Jack, he simply took a step back, biting a retort as he took his leave. No doubt to have a smoke. Roxanne grabbed the stool Jack had been sitting on and gave it a slight adjustment, making it higher considering she stood at five seven, it was clear Jack was much taller. “Leave us.” She commanded the men who had remained still, arms crossed over their chests. Upon hearing her stern words, they left in single file. Once she and the new comer were alone, the female crossed one leg over the other, delicately enough to be deceiving of her role in the organisation; there weren’t many well mannered women working for organisations such as hers.

        “So, it’s clear you want to join.” She noted before her gaze met his, her piercing blue hues locked with his for a moment. “We don’t have time to do the usual methods of acceptance. However, the rules remain the same.” She continued as she edged closer, almost a few inches from his face as she leaned in. “If I find reason, I will take you to the dungeon myself. I will strip your body of your flesh, piece by piece. I also have a tendency to remove testicles with a rusty pair of shears. Are we clear?” Much like her boss, Roxanne got straight to the point. They were in dire need of extra men, especially for the current movement they were planning. She didn’t have time to go over the full admission routine; so she stuck with blatant honesty.

        “So, this is how this will work. You will report to me, and me alone. Forget Jack. You’re going to do whatever I ask. If you don’t, I go retrieve my rusty shears. If you’re late, the same. If you disappear, I will find you. There is no escape. We are everywhere in this city. By sitting here in the first place I assume you understand what we are, and the things we are capable of.” The woman glanced down to her watch. “I have a meeting shortly. So I’ll keep this sweet. I need you to get me something.” Roxanne stood, making her way back toward the desk. Once she’d scribbled down an address she made her way back, handing him the note. “I want you to find me a jewelry set. Diamonds only. Make sure to keep it quiet. If you succeed, then we’ll talk further about your role here. If not, you best be ready to be castrated.” The woman offered a hint of a smirk before making her way to the door. “Once you’ve finished, call Jack. He’ll bring you to me.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.
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An hour.. He thinks to himself as he sits in his home, his hands on his head, an hour until he would begin his double life again. He has never been the same person, his hair color and eye color often change, but his physique never really bothered to shift in any way. He is sittimg on his bed, he looks up at the mirror in his bedroom, studying his new look. His once brown hair had been dyed to a jet black, his eyes changed from their unique green to a soft hazel color, and he hated it.

After this hour of solitude, he would leave everything behind, the FBI had given him a new apartment and a new identity to take down this organization, but the cost of the whole deal is fairly obvious, of course there is a lot of money in it for him if he succeeds. He looks down at the new ID in his hands, the card contains information about a 'Trevor Sanhill', but that's a fake name that belongs on a fake man. He'd been forced to break up with his girlfriend as well, Trevor didn't have any ties. The ID would cover his FBI ID which still sits in his wallet, just in case he needed access to a crime scene or if he gets arrested during his escapades.

His other name didn't matter, only his past. He was raised on the wrong side of town, in the wrong neighborhood, otherwise he could've done something better with his life than sticking his neck out for a bunch of men in suits that sit behind desks all day, all of them silently knowing that at any point they can hop into their private jets and take a tour of Hawaii. Other than the bad side of town, he lived in a house with a kind family, one who showed him love and compassion, taught him how to reflect the same. Of course, after he graduated and became a Marine, those emotions were stripped from him.

He only did a single tour before leaving, his four year contract was up, leaving him at the age of twenty three and no job, the FBI gladly took him, they trained him in SWAT and as a police officer as need be, but his primary training had been conducted to make him a detective, undercover with no ties and no identity. Now here he is, rubbing the chain of his dog tags, not wanting to leave them behind, but he pulls them off his neck, leaving them on his dresser before grabbing his Kimbar assault pistol from his drawer, tucking it into his back waistband and covering it with his shirt. The beginning of his new life is now.

He walks out to his car, well, not really a car, but a sports motorcycle, more specifically a Yoshimura RS-3, his favorite model as of now. The nice thing about the bike is the FBI paid for it, off the books of course, in case any body went snooping through some files to find out more about this enigma of a man. He mounts the bike and drives off to where he was instructed to meet the gang, first impressions are always a must so he wore a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with some sneakers poking out from under them. He approaches the warehouse and stops the bike, staring at the men who wait for him, they go to search him, immediately finding the gun. Trevor places the pistol under his helmet on his motorbike before following them inside.

He sits down in front of a tall man, though, Trevor is 6'3 himself, which really shows off his muscular and athletic build. That just makes the man in front of him all the less threatening, Trevor notices a slight bulge in the man's pocket, a knife, and no doubt he would have a handgun on him at all times. He takes some mental notes, remembering this information for a later date. He answers question after question, sweat begins to cover his white skin from the lights in the warehouse. "Nervous?" The man in front of him asks, Trevor just shakes his head.

"The lights are very hot." He says quietly, never having been one for talking. He continues to answer questions until that woman walks in, his eyes scan her face, he knows her.. The sound of her heels clicking against the concrete brings him back to reality, he watches everyone leave as she sits down. Roxanne.. That's her name, he remembers seeing her face in a file, though her hair color always seemed to be changing. He bites the inside of his cheek softly as she speaks to him, she makes him nervous, talking to him about stripping his flesh off of his body and all of that.

"You won't have a need to do so, I'll get the jewelry." He says before standing up, taking the piece of paper she had handed to him. "See ya in a bit, shears or no shears." He simply says, his Eastern American accent sounds strange in a city like Los Angeles. He walks out of the warehouse to his bike, where he slips his pistol back into his waistband and his helmet back on to his head. He drives off, his eyes flicking down from the road to the slip of paper in his hand, he goes to the address.

He walks inside, it's a nice house, one of the gated ones in the city, you couldn't really trust anybody here anyway. He walks around to the back, jumping over the fence by grabbing the top and flipping himself over it, landing on his feet. He walks over to the back door, noticing the red glare of a burglary alarm. He looks over at a rain pipe, quickly scaling it before reaching the top of the house. He sees the main power cable, cutting it would shock him and most likely kill him, so he grabs his pistol from his waistband, pointing it at the cable before waiting, the sound of a plane soaring overhead to Las Angeles International Airport allows him to discreetly take the shot.

Once the power is cut, he slides down the rain pipe, grabbing a pen from his pocket, it had been sitting next to his notebook. He stretches the clip of the pen before jabbing it into the door, swiftly unlocking it. He steps inside and walks upstairs to the master bedroom, he easily takes every set of diamond jewelry in that cabinet, and a set of emeralds just for the hell of it. He makes his way out before vaulting over the fence again. He mounts his bike and takes off, having secured the jewelry in the boot of his bike. He grabs his phone from his pocket, pulling off to the side of the road before calling Jack.

"I've got the jewelry, where do you want me to meet you?" He asks.
 


      • Jack was seated in his Mercedes outside of a set destination. He didn’t expect the new comer to be able to obtain the jewels. It wasn’t a difficult task, so to speak. If someone knew how to be slick. However, if he was careless then no doubt he would be sent packing. It was no surprise Roxanne had sent him on a mission for her own desire. The woman was insatiable, if she wanted something she would find a way to obtain it. When his phone began to ring the male couldn’t help but snicker. Oh, she was going to have to up her game if he was completing her first task so quickly. Jack answered the call, his voice fairly monotone. “Good, there may be hope for you yet. I’ll meet you back at the warehouse.” When he arrived Jack would take him to Roxanne’s home as requested.

        Roxanne wasn’t concerned about setting the meeting place in her home. She’d earned enough of a name for people to be weary of her. If they would choose to try and act out against her, she and her brother wouldn’t hesitate to remove them from the face of the earth along with everything and everyone they loved. It was a simple solution in their world. Roxanne had soon adjusted to it, or she’d had found herself on the bitter end of the deal. As the buzzer echoed her well-lit home the female made her way to the window. Jack’s car. Already? A slow, menacing smirk crossed her lips as she hit the button to cause the large black iron gates to part and allow entry.

        After almost eight years of working for the organisation it was clear she was set for life. Her home was impressive; modern and sleek. Windows were spanning from the ceiling to the floor, on all three floors. A warm glow radiated from inside the house. It must have been three hundred square metres including the small garden around the home. Roxanne wasn’t much for the exterior. “They’re here, go get them.” She ordered Tommy as he emerged; his thick brown hair ruffled and his gaze somewhat tired. Her sibling gave a nod before disappearing to fetch the visitors.

        Various paintings hung along the classic white wooden staircase. The ground floor was mainly a garage and a hobby space. The first floor was blissfully white, the walls were tall and spacious. The furniture was clearly expensive and comfortable. Roxanne enjoyed the finer things in life, her home being the top priority. The first floor had a large open living room with two L shaped cream couches which closed in on a glass coffee table and a sizable TV. The room was open plan; a kitchen rested in the right hand side, glistening in brushed metal and white cabinets. It led toward a glass dining table with matching chairs.

        As she heard the footfalls the female dropped down onto one of the couches, curling her legs beneath her. They were in her home, after all, she was going to be comfortable. If he took that as weakness, then it would be his fault. Once they appeared the female glanced toward the newcomer, she couldn’t deny she was keen to see what else he would do. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing toward the space next to her on the couch. “I see I don’t need my shears,” She murmured softly, her tone somewhat gentle as she eyed the man.

        “Now, tell me your name. I’m Roxanne.” She didn’t extend her hand or hint for him to do so. Considering he’d completed her job she felt he deserved her name, and she his. Now that she knew something he was capable of she’d begin giving him more complex jobs until she felt he was ready for the movement they were planning. Of course, if something were to change Roxanne could easily arrange his removal. Somehow, she got the feeling that he was going to endure whatever she had to throw at him. “The second job I have for you is finding an ex member of ours. His name is Richard Meyer. Jack will give you the information we have on him. It’s minimal but you should be able to locate him. Do you have any questions?”
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He drives back to the warehouse, sitting next to his bike while waiting for Jack to pick him up, he has a slight feeling that Jack is the kind of person to always be late. He spots Jack's car and gets inside, slipping into the passenger seat before buckling his seatbelt, the cool steel of his gun pressing against his lower back. He places his hand against the side of his head, resting his elbow against the door and just staring out the front window, not paying attention to Jack as they start driving.

Buildings, people, and cars whiz past as they drive to Roxanne's house, he gets out of the car and walks inside, the jewels in hand. He sees her relaxed position, it's obvious to him that she takes a position of power within this household, as she seemed to just order her brother around. He looks around at everything tge house had to offer, it is more than he could ever dream of having with just a job in the FBI. He sits down as instructed, placing the three boxes on the table, he opens two of them. "Diamond." He says before moving on to the next box, opening it. "I thought you'd look good with emeralds." He says before relaxing in his chair, pleased with himself.

He listens to her comment, it makes him smile at her humor, if she wasn't a criminal, Roxanne probably would've been the type of person he wouldn't mind dating. He also notices the tone shift, while before when he was unknown to her, she had been constantly putting herself abode him, constantly asserting herself with power at every opportunity, using threats and wits that she believed he did not posses. He nods at her name. "It's certainly nice to meet you, I'm Trevor, though most of my buddies call me by my last name, Sanhill." He says to her, it wasn't necessarily a lie, his old war buddies still call him by his actual last name. The lie came into the name itself, but he executes the sentence as if he is telling the whole truth.

He nods and stands. "I'll find him." He simply says before looking over at Jack, receiving the information the man had to give him, the fact that he is looking for an Ethan Farner narrowed things down for him immensely. He walks outside and steps into Jack's car, the man walks out, but Trevor is playing with the wires under the wheel, the car starts and he pulls out of the driveway.. Without Jack. Trevor gives him a wave as he speeds off in Jack's car.

He pulls out his cellphone and calls his handler, a man within the FBI who basically knew everything. "Hey, I need all you've got on a Ethan Farner, it's important." He says while driving up the road. His handler speaks. "He's in witness protection, we've got all of the info we need from him, he's currently living at 132 Las Colinas Road." He says, Trevor then hangs up. He drives to the warehouse before ditching Jack's car there, leaving the engine on just for the hell of it. He jumps on his sports bike and drives to his apartment. He goes inside and collapses on the bed, falling asleep.

In the morning he wakes up before calling Roxanne, as Jack had provided him with her number. "Hey, I found him, he's living at 132 Las Colinas Road, but it seemed like there were cops there, he might've blabbed about your organization." He says tiredly into the phone, waiting for her response.
 
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