Post by Sam Thompson on Jun 4, 2016 4:10:03 GMT
Less than a week, it was the fastest turn around time yet for things happening in Marathon...
Adam had promised to put Sam in touch with someone who could alleviate her concerns over security, and after a few texts with an unknown phone number and one very short phone call, a meeting was arranged for this afternoon at Judy's diner. Sadly, while she knew the general idea of what she wanted to acquire, specifics were another thing all together, and since the meeting had come out of the blue, Sam was left with very little time to actually put a thought out shopping list together, thankfully there was the Internet. Several minutes later and Sam had a rough draft...as well as probably put herself on some sort of NSA watch list, and then it was off to Judy's.
Since the Chevelle was now officially AWOL, probably towed from having sat too long, Sam's arrival was via long board, a slow rolling stop and the board was popped up and tucked beneath an arm just as the door was nudged open. Of course getting there was only half the battle, she didn't have a clue what the guy fucking looked like, and it wasn't like he was going to be sitting beneath a flashing 'gun guy' neon sign. The hostess was waved off as sea green eyes scanned over the place, eyeing the half a dozen people that were eating alone before narrowing in on a guy in his mid forties perched in front of a cup of coffee with his full attention on an open newspaper...dude was wearing one of those MIB black suits and while that didn't exactly scream clandestine operator Sam had no problem making a bee line for him, even went so far as to help herself into the booth across from him, which initially didn't draw his focus from the newspaper. It wasn't until Sam leaned in and whispered "You the guy?" That suit dude glanced overtop of page and eyed the girl now sitting across from him " 'scuse me?" The response wasn't very promising.
"Uh...nothing, never mind. Thought you were someone else." Turned out it was just some random guy stopped over before catching his flight...Sam was quick to excuse herself, and beat a hasty retreat with cheeks slightly flushed. No sooner had she reached her spot back at the door that another of the patrons, who had thoroughly enjoyed watching what had just happened, raised his hand and flagged her down, chuckling to himself all the while. Dick.
Another bee line, and this time Sam slipped into the correct booth after leaning her board against the outside of said booth, across from some nondescript guy in a pair of jeans and a black Tee, probably in his late thirties judging by the faint streaks of salt and pepper in his hair. "Your Adam's guy then?" "Adam, Nah...never heard of him. Just wanted another cup of coffee, thought you were the waitress." A few seconds of silence before his head finally dipped to acknowledge the initial assumption "Yeah, yeah...I'm the guy. Adam said you needed a few things. So long as you got the cash, I can get ya what you're lookin' for." Sam's grimace waned rather quickly, at least this guy seemed to have a sense of humor.
Anyway, it was straight to business! Sam reached into her pocket and fished out a crumbled slip of paper with a bunch of scribbling on it. "Yeah, I got cash. I just need a few things" Thanks to a second trip to the Blue reef where Sam had been a touch more aggressive with her bets at the table, she found herself in at least a semi decent financial position, even after paying off Mikaela for the room. No sense in beating around the bush, even with as outlandish as her requests may have been. "Soo...yeah. I need uh," eyes squinted to read her scribbles, "Two M-18 anti personal mines." A few seconds pause just to make sure the guy wasn't gonna laugh in her face..."Also, a few M-67 fragmentation grenades." Did...did you buy grenades by the dozen? Could you get just a few? "...and uh, like...thirty feet of trip wire, along with another thirty feet of concertina wire." Sage nod was offered, was it even a unique shopping list? The guy probably dealt with weird shit on a daily basis...and it wasn't like she'd asked for rockets or a tank or anything...yet.
"Oh!" Thumb traced just a little further down the page to the last couple of items she'd scribbled out. "A Beretta 92fs with a threaded barrel. A suppressor to go with it, three magazines...and like, two hundred rounds of ammo." The gun was an important add on, simply because Sam couldn't legally get one in her name thanks to the felony, but if she was swinging for the fences already...why not, plus it had been the most bad ass looking gun she'd seen all of the ten minutes she spent looking.
Gun guy, who had been sitting silent while the list was read of, who'd only given so much as gave a nod of his head to acknowledge that Sam was even talking...finally came to life. Hand moved to take hold of his own chin and fingers gave a few strokes as if he were contemplating something, for like...five minutes. Thankfully, he finally said something or Sam might have freaked out. "Alright..." Sams expression went flat, really?! That was all he was gonna give?! No, of course not...another few seconds as whatever gears clicked around in the dudes head finally snapped into place. "For the claymores...you're looking at five hundred each. The grenades will run you one twenty five a piece, but if you buy five I'll cut you a discount." Hey, at least it was something! "Pay in cash, and up front, I'll thrown in the barbed wire and trip line for free...got a shit ton of it laying around. But the gun will cost you another twelve hundred, not counting the mags, ammo and suppressor. "
While the prices may have been inflated, Sam didn't have a clue...for all she knew the dude was cutting her a deal. "In total, the piece is gonna run you fifteen. Plus the grand for the claymores and another five hundred for the half dozen grenades." Slender brow arched...what the fuck was she going to do with six grenades? All she really wanted was one or two. "Fine...fuck it. So that's like, what?" Blank look followed by a bit of squinting as she crunched the numbers for herself. "So three grand, and you'll do it?"
"Yeah, I told you...you got the cash, I'll get you your shit." The entire conversation had happened in rather hushed tones, despite having been somewhat isolated in a corner booth near the far side of the diner, but still...it wasn't like Sam was about to go about sliding over a wad of cash across the table. The very hand holding the slip of paper crumbled it back into a ball and promptly shoved it into her pocket, followed by another bit of fidgeting and fussing in the very same pocket...then discretely as possible, the folded stack of bills was pulled free and hand reached out beneath the table his direction, to with the guy seemed completely oblivious to...just watched her for a few seconds before Sam knocked a knuckle up on the underside, even went so far as to cast her eyes in a downward fashion hoping he'd get the hint. And while he did, her intent was met with a scoff and a shake of his head. "Fucking kids, don't any of you know how...never mind." Was it really worth it? His own hand reached under the table and snatched the folded wad of cash, the stack of hundreds had been meant for other things, but somehow this seemed more important.
With the hand off complete, both hands were drawn back and set to rest on the table just in front of her, rather unsure of just what exactly she was supposed to do now. Meanwhile, the dude, who had pocketed the cash himself, was all to happy to pull out a menu and bury his face, for at least an entire minute before he looked up and gave a tilt of his head, perhaps slightly confused to see Sam still sitting there. "The fuck you want now? Its gonna take at least three days, I don't carry that shit around with me...now, unless you're gonna get me another fuckin' cup of coffee, scram." Rude! Sam met his quip with a little huff before slipping from the booth, her board was snatched up and a hasty exit was made from the diner.
Adam had promised to put Sam in touch with someone who could alleviate her concerns over security, and after a few texts with an unknown phone number and one very short phone call, a meeting was arranged for this afternoon at Judy's diner. Sadly, while she knew the general idea of what she wanted to acquire, specifics were another thing all together, and since the meeting had come out of the blue, Sam was left with very little time to actually put a thought out shopping list together, thankfully there was the Internet. Several minutes later and Sam had a rough draft...as well as probably put herself on some sort of NSA watch list, and then it was off to Judy's.
Since the Chevelle was now officially AWOL, probably towed from having sat too long, Sam's arrival was via long board, a slow rolling stop and the board was popped up and tucked beneath an arm just as the door was nudged open. Of course getting there was only half the battle, she didn't have a clue what the guy fucking looked like, and it wasn't like he was going to be sitting beneath a flashing 'gun guy' neon sign. The hostess was waved off as sea green eyes scanned over the place, eyeing the half a dozen people that were eating alone before narrowing in on a guy in his mid forties perched in front of a cup of coffee with his full attention on an open newspaper...dude was wearing one of those MIB black suits and while that didn't exactly scream clandestine operator Sam had no problem making a bee line for him, even went so far as to help herself into the booth across from him, which initially didn't draw his focus from the newspaper. It wasn't until Sam leaned in and whispered "You the guy?" That suit dude glanced overtop of page and eyed the girl now sitting across from him " 'scuse me?" The response wasn't very promising.
"Uh...nothing, never mind. Thought you were someone else." Turned out it was just some random guy stopped over before catching his flight...Sam was quick to excuse herself, and beat a hasty retreat with cheeks slightly flushed. No sooner had she reached her spot back at the door that another of the patrons, who had thoroughly enjoyed watching what had just happened, raised his hand and flagged her down, chuckling to himself all the while. Dick.
Another bee line, and this time Sam slipped into the correct booth after leaning her board against the outside of said booth, across from some nondescript guy in a pair of jeans and a black Tee, probably in his late thirties judging by the faint streaks of salt and pepper in his hair. "Your Adam's guy then?" "Adam, Nah...never heard of him. Just wanted another cup of coffee, thought you were the waitress." A few seconds of silence before his head finally dipped to acknowledge the initial assumption "Yeah, yeah...I'm the guy. Adam said you needed a few things. So long as you got the cash, I can get ya what you're lookin' for." Sam's grimace waned rather quickly, at least this guy seemed to have a sense of humor.
Anyway, it was straight to business! Sam reached into her pocket and fished out a crumbled slip of paper with a bunch of scribbling on it. "Yeah, I got cash. I just need a few things" Thanks to a second trip to the Blue reef where Sam had been a touch more aggressive with her bets at the table, she found herself in at least a semi decent financial position, even after paying off Mikaela for the room. No sense in beating around the bush, even with as outlandish as her requests may have been. "Soo...yeah. I need uh," eyes squinted to read her scribbles, "Two M-18 anti personal mines." A few seconds pause just to make sure the guy wasn't gonna laugh in her face..."Also, a few M-67 fragmentation grenades." Did...did you buy grenades by the dozen? Could you get just a few? "...and uh, like...thirty feet of trip wire, along with another thirty feet of concertina wire." Sage nod was offered, was it even a unique shopping list? The guy probably dealt with weird shit on a daily basis...and it wasn't like she'd asked for rockets or a tank or anything...yet.
"Oh!" Thumb traced just a little further down the page to the last couple of items she'd scribbled out. "A Beretta 92fs with a threaded barrel. A suppressor to go with it, three magazines...and like, two hundred rounds of ammo." The gun was an important add on, simply because Sam couldn't legally get one in her name thanks to the felony, but if she was swinging for the fences already...why not, plus it had been the most bad ass looking gun she'd seen all of the ten minutes she spent looking.
Gun guy, who had been sitting silent while the list was read of, who'd only given so much as gave a nod of his head to acknowledge that Sam was even talking...finally came to life. Hand moved to take hold of his own chin and fingers gave a few strokes as if he were contemplating something, for like...five minutes. Thankfully, he finally said something or Sam might have freaked out. "Alright..." Sams expression went flat, really?! That was all he was gonna give?! No, of course not...another few seconds as whatever gears clicked around in the dudes head finally snapped into place. "For the claymores...you're looking at five hundred each. The grenades will run you one twenty five a piece, but if you buy five I'll cut you a discount." Hey, at least it was something! "Pay in cash, and up front, I'll thrown in the barbed wire and trip line for free...got a shit ton of it laying around. But the gun will cost you another twelve hundred, not counting the mags, ammo and suppressor. "
While the prices may have been inflated, Sam didn't have a clue...for all she knew the dude was cutting her a deal. "In total, the piece is gonna run you fifteen. Plus the grand for the claymores and another five hundred for the half dozen grenades." Slender brow arched...what the fuck was she going to do with six grenades? All she really wanted was one or two. "Fine...fuck it. So that's like, what?" Blank look followed by a bit of squinting as she crunched the numbers for herself. "So three grand, and you'll do it?"
"Yeah, I told you...you got the cash, I'll get you your shit." The entire conversation had happened in rather hushed tones, despite having been somewhat isolated in a corner booth near the far side of the diner, but still...it wasn't like Sam was about to go about sliding over a wad of cash across the table. The very hand holding the slip of paper crumbled it back into a ball and promptly shoved it into her pocket, followed by another bit of fidgeting and fussing in the very same pocket...then discretely as possible, the folded stack of bills was pulled free and hand reached out beneath the table his direction, to with the guy seemed completely oblivious to...just watched her for a few seconds before Sam knocked a knuckle up on the underside, even went so far as to cast her eyes in a downward fashion hoping he'd get the hint. And while he did, her intent was met with a scoff and a shake of his head. "Fucking kids, don't any of you know how...never mind." Was it really worth it? His own hand reached under the table and snatched the folded wad of cash, the stack of hundreds had been meant for other things, but somehow this seemed more important.
With the hand off complete, both hands were drawn back and set to rest on the table just in front of her, rather unsure of just what exactly she was supposed to do now. Meanwhile, the dude, who had pocketed the cash himself, was all to happy to pull out a menu and bury his face, for at least an entire minute before he looked up and gave a tilt of his head, perhaps slightly confused to see Sam still sitting there. "The fuck you want now? Its gonna take at least three days, I don't carry that shit around with me...now, unless you're gonna get me another fuckin' cup of coffee, scram." Rude! Sam met his quip with a little huff before slipping from the booth, her board was snatched up and a hasty exit was made from the diner.
