Dark Reign: A Dangerous Misunderstanding

A Dangerous Misunderstanding.

Markus and Raul…

The ones that had hired him had given him a list. A simple list really. There were names he was supposed to “take”, and names where he was supposed to “offer”. Those that refused the offer, he was then to move them over to the “take” category. After that was pretty self-explanatory.

Markus Wraith:

The day had been going rather well, despite how long it seemed to drag on. The man named Markus Wraith had been slowly crossing of names to his list until there was only a few more left on the paper.

He had decided to work on his “take” category first, deciding it was best to get them out of the way and under his employer’s command before any of them had the chance to figure out what exactly was going on. In a way, it was the easier of the two jobs. At least for a guy like him. No talking necessary. Just move in, stick the target with the serum, and wait for them to turn before playing a recording he was given. And to think he was getting three grand for every name he checked off this list. So little work, so much green. Just the way he liked it.  

But now it was time to move over to the “Offer” part of his list. There was only two or three more “takes”, and if he enjoyed those the most. So, he would save them until the “offers” were getting a bit too stressful. The thing was, so far everyone on his “offer” list had accepted the deal. Apparently, his employers had their eyes on some real sickos, but so long as the check cleared.

“Guess that makes me a sicko too.”

Now, who was next up on the list…? Ah, Mr. Raul Tejada? Battering opponents…dislocated shoulder…severe blood loss…Sounds like a decent enough enforcer. Probably could use some cash, knowing that type of guy.

As it did all of the others, the list told Markus where the man could be found. A bar, not far from the shit hole side of town, a place where you can wind up mugged just for looking down the wrong alley way. It was a place Markus actually knew fairly well, and even had a few “friends” he could visit for his monthly protection money while he was there.

That idea settled it…time to look for a Raul, and make him an offer he wouldn’t, and couldn’t, refuse!

Ah, the "shithole" side of town was a place Raul was familiar and comfortable with. When one ran in the kind of businesses he did, one would become quite well acquainted with those parts of town. Raul took a short stop at one of these bars on the way "home", taking a seat at one of the booths nearest to the door, a small bottle resting on the table before him, and a glass freshly filled with alcohol in his hand. It had been a long day, fighting people, making sure his finances were in order... shuffling through his next couple potential fights... Sometimes, he thought himself deserving of a drink here or there... and this was one of those times. Raul sighed heavily, content as the soft burn of his drink trickled down his throat, leaving both it and his belly warm and happy. The drink itself was revolting, as was many of the so-called people that seemed to favor this place... but then, he wasn't the kind of guy for aesthetics... He was simply here to obtain what he wanted and that was all. No more, no less.

As he sipped from his glass, the former gangster flicked through the contacts of his phone over an over, giving his hands something to do while his mind focused elsewhere. He had been hearing whispers from the kinds of people with loose lips and empty pockets... that there were things starting to happen, powers rising and falling back like the coast before a Tsunami wave. Things were starting to change, people disappearing off the streets and even out of more open-view locations... and nobody had been reporting anything to the authorities. His own 'contacts' were starting to disappear, their voices going out one by one... until he was the only one holding their information...

It wasn't much... No names of the organization or people involved (assuming there even was one), no proof of anything they claimed... all he had were rumors... but still... the fact he would even be told this filled Raul with... anticipation... Taking another sip from his drink. the man flicked through his phone until he found a certain Japanese language-game app, opening it and starting to play. His Japanese was passable... but he'd prefer to not sound like a moron when interacting with a natives.

The place was a shitty little dive bar that didn’t even show up on Markus’s GPS. The buildings surrounding it were decrepit and old, hardly any of them were anywhere close to the word “presentable” even on the day they were built! The walkway was gravel and dirt, and every breath stunk of the bar’s shitty kitchen. This really was the back end of the entire town, but that was fine. In a place like this, you knew where people stood. There was no rules or regulations to hide what a man desired here. If he wanted your cash, he had the chance to take it for himself. A fight would happen, and that was it. To the victor go the spoils. A dangerous place…but a simple one, and easy to understand.

Markus had entered the bar with what he though was a fairly casual outfit, yet when he took a look a around, he felt overdressed. The people were…well, they clearly lived around this place. They certainly looked like the type that would drink here.

He was thankful in a way, because it wasn’t hard to figure out who was who in this small of a place. Right off the bat, a man sitting in the corner caught his eye. For one thing, his clothes matched, and he actually seemed relatively clean. The way he carried himself, with self-respect and dignity made him stand out in this type of place. The man in the black cap didn’t even need to fish out his list to figure out that that guy was probably who he was looking for.

Silently, Markus ordered a beer and began to walk over towards Raul. He didn’t trust this places water, but he didn’t drink. Not on the job at least. His stride was confident and sure as he approached Raul, and why wouldn’t it be? He had a great deal to offer, one that no one had refused yet. His employers had an excellent sense of who to make the offer to, so this shouldn’t be any different.

Markus didn’t wait for permission. He simply sat across from Raul, and set his drink on the table. His red eyes observed the man who sat across from him with mild interest, but nothing that would think he needed to remember.

“Your Raul, right?” Markus blinked, knowing full well who he was talking to, “Weird place for a man of your quality…at least, from what I was led to believe. My employer was looking for a man like you to help them with a project. I can promise it pays very well for minimum work. Interested?”

Raul blinked, his eyes tracking movement out in the periphery... movement coming towards him. He spared only a glance, his cutting, yellow eyes flicking up for only a moment, but such a minescule amount of time was all he required. It was a child, appeared to be one anyway, his clothes dark and face properly pierced. At first glance it would seem like he was some kind of punk, a street kid that had found a life on the streets... but then there was jewelry on his fingers, fine metals and small stones that don't often come on the pay-check of low-life gangsters, especially those that dressed the way this kid did. He must've been either someone much bigger than he appeared to be... or he was working closely with someone who stood mountains taller...

Whoever he was, this man wasn't at all cautious about sitting down at the table with someone such as himself, Raul paying it no mind as if this guy simply needed a place to sit for a moment, he bothered not to look up from his game... but even while his pupils never left the screen... he was constantly staring at the man out of the corner of his eye... constantly watching his movements like a hawk not wanting to give away to it's prey that it's sights were set on it. Raul's body-language portrayed a man that was relaxed, perhaps even inebriated, slumped into the chair slightly, the movements of his thump upon the touch-screen of his phone sloppy and imprecise. The unknown person asked who Raul was, and without sparing him any eye-contact, the mexican muttered his response.

"...Could be..."

Whether sarcastic or not, the man would remark on how strange it was someone of Raul's stature, of his 'quality would find himself in a place like this... a remark that would be met with an amused snort.

"Escucha aquí, mi hermano, I don't swing that way..." He remarked, his drunken smile spreading a little farther across his lips. Either not bothered or trying to hide it, the man would continue unhindered, mentioning that he had a job-offer for Raul, one that paid and required no work... an appeal to the most base of human desires. For a moment, he did not speak... seemingly contemplating the vague, too-good-to-be-true style offer... before rolling his neck, popping a few joints in it... before settling back into his chair with a heavy sigh...

"Whats the job?" He asked, glancing up from his phone for the first time, his eye-lids drawn over as if he were struggling to stay awake and aware... but his gaze was sharp... clean.

Markus was hardly paying attention to any of the little details Raul had done to make it appear as though he were drunk. The man sitting across from him took Raul at face value, and did little more. Raul may have been cautious, but it fell on deaf ears and blind eyes when it came to Markus. If Raul was sober, great. If he really was drunk, then he better be able to get the deal through his skull. If he could manage that, and a simple “yes” then Markus could collect his check and move on to being one step closer to finished.

Ironically, the moment Raul looked up from his phone, Markus pulled out his. The man began scrolling through his texts and emails as he opened the beer he brought with him and then began to fish around in his pocket. It took him a moment, but he finally pulled his hand free from his jeans. At first, it looked like nothing was in his hand, but as he reached for the drink, a distinct plopping noise suddenly erupted from the top of the liquid. The heavy color of the beverage masked what was inside, and Markus lightly pushed it over towards Raul.

Floating inside was a capped needle, gently sitting in the drink. The contents inside the needle was hard to make out, but it appeared to glow ever so slightly.

“Like I said. Its hardly anything. My boss wants you to be a distributor. You know what that word means? It means your going to hand that stuff out to whoever we need you to. From what I get, its mostly gonna be fighters you go up against. We don’t care how you do it, but if you wanna get paid, you got to give them a shot of what’s in there.”

The needle gently swayed in the drink, remaining clean thanks to the cap at the end. It’s pointed needle appearing like that of a mosquito, thick and ready to inject its chemicals into the blood stream…but to do what?

“I’ll give you my number. Once you inject whoever, text me with their first and last name. Make your choice quick, because I swap phones frequently. Once we get confirmation and the victim shows signs of improvement, your reward will be directly deposited into whatever account you want. Afterwards, you’ll get another dose, and it all starts over again.”

Markus finally looked up from his phone to gesture at the needle with a nod.

“That there is a smaller dose then what you normally get. Since your new, you’ll go through a trial run. The stuff inside that needle can’t be reproduced or copied, so don’t try. My employers will know if you do…”

Markus stared at Raul, making sure he understood what it would mean if he were caught trying to bootleg whatever was in that needle. Once he was sure the point came across, he tossed Raul a slip of paper, a number written on the back.

“Every person you inject, we will give you four thousand. Simple, easy, painless, and you earn quite a it if your good. You got any questions?”

Raul watched the man closely, noting his casual and completely unprofessional behavior. Why would such a thing matter to the former Gangster...? Well... the needle that was just plopped in his drink with all the thought one might expect from a punk told him all he needed to know. Instantly, Raul's eyes widened somewhat in surprise, unable to hide the upsurge of shock flashing across his nerves. It was a full syringe with a fluid of a particularly unnatural collar, the steel tip of the needle buried within several inches of drink. Now... uh... he didn't quite expect this... Especially from a kid. That might explain the (un)intentional tainting of the product he so casually displayed... Needles weren't known for sucking in fluid with the top fully withdrawn and the canister full... but it could still slip up the nozzle within... and touch the refined fluids inside... perhaps even mix with them. The body didn't seem concerned however, taking his time explain the job to him...

Raul's body seemed to freeze up for a moment before instantly leaning in, gesturing for the boy to SILENCE himself and lean in as well. Raul's eyes flicking around quickly at the patrons... none of them appearing to have heard them. This wasn't something that should EVER be discussed out in the open, intending to become Narcotraficante or not! Anyone would be willing to turn someone in just on the mere mention of drugs, willing to throw their fellow man into the jaws of the big blue dogs that patrolled these streets like soldiers would hostile territory. ...And yet Markus wasn't the least bit disturbed, going on to explain just how much he'd get paid, what to do and so on... Like it was nothing more than a casual business deal... He had to admit, that kid had a gran par de bolas on him... Even if they could get them both killed or worse... incarcerated.

Eyes flicking down towards the needle, Raul would reach out to scoop it up in his hand, careful to avoid the hair-thin tip! He held it gingerly with his fingers, gaze flicking back to the man before him with a perplexed, almost confused smile... If this was a smaller does... he couldn't imagine what a full dose would look like... and do to a person. If this was... well... what it looked like, this could keep someone doped up for several hours. A larger dose...? He doubted they'd be awake enough to even recognize their own family! A bitter taste flashed across Raul's tongue as he carefully set the syringe down before him...

Drugs... His least favorite segment of organized crime.

"Yes, as a matter of fact... I have but one question." Raul murmured thoughtfully. "What is this? I can't very well do a job without knowing what I'll be.... pushing."

Perhaps Raul would notice the cap that was placed on top of the needle point, protecting the contents from the contaminative beverage that Markus had so callously dropped it in. Perhaps he wouldn’t. At the end of the day, the thug got paid the same regardless. Besides, it might be fun to watch Raul squirm a little bit.

Markus wasn’t one hundred percent sure this guy was actually as inebriated as he seemed to be. His stupid drunk grin, his lazy eyes, and the way he spoke all pointed towards him being in a drunken stupor, but Markus didn’t really buy it. There was no particular reason not to, just simple intuition that Markus was being bullshitted. The thug made sure to speak nice and clear so the drunkard could hear and understand him… but he got a rather amusing reaction instead, as Raul seemed to forget his performance and suddenly wave made a gesture for Markus to zip it, and lean in closer towards him. The man smiled for the first time since he entered the bar, his cool eyes seemingly enjoying the slight panic in Raul’s eyes as he looked to ensure the other patrons weren’t listening.

Markus didn’t lean in. His only retort to the gestures was a smug “Mi Hermano, I don’t swing that way…”

So much for being drunk.

This was why Markus hated the “offer” part of his list. He wasn’t much of a people’s person. He didn’t care about their plights, there problems, or how his actions could affect others. What he just pulled was a great example. While its true a patron could call the police and try to turn them in after they left, it would be extremely difficult for the police to find Markus. He had only ever been here once, and he didn’t even tell Raul his name. The cops could probably find Raul, but really they had nothing on Markus. Even if this shitty of a place had cameras, even if those shitty cameras got a photo of his face…Markus was not on record. He could ruin this place for Raul, and he didn’t care. He probably thought he was doing Raul a favor taking this god forsaken place away from him.

Markus’s smile didn’t last, his face relaxing back into the nonchalant glare his face seemed to naturally look like. Raul seemed confused at what he was looking at, but the man across from him provided no answers. Markus simply waited, and watched. Finally, Raul asked the question that lingered on his mind…what exactly was in the vial.

Markus only tilted his head and crossed his arms. He tapped his finger once, trying to remember the fancy name his employers told him…God it was long.

“It’s a new product a new crew has just developed. They called it the…what was it? The Synthetic, Muscle Injected Liquid Enhancer serum…or SMILE, which is easier.” Markus answered flatly, leaning back into his chair as if he were finished…only for him to apparently remember something else, “If you are thinking about trying the product yourself, I really wouldn’t recommend it. My employer would prefer you yourself stay off SMILE…for obvious reasons. You get people to take the drug. No money necessary. Just make sure its going to different people every time. You can tell them it’s medicine, its steroids, a miracle cure…whatever you want.”

Yeah, okay, Raul probably should've expected that his own "joke" would be thrown right back at him... but even as he attempted to bring them both within whispering distance, this boy simply refused to move! He seemed so drop-dead confident of his own safety, he so casually explained the name and the function of his drug (as Smile was an acronym apparently), remarking how it would be best if he did not take the drug... First rule of being a distributor, obviously. Raul really didn't like how this was going, with how little the precautions he was taking... He sat here, across from a man he seemingly never met and offer him a job selling DRUGS! ...And not just marijuana or cocaine... but some kind of STEROID judging by the name! Raul's eyes narrowed, any semblance of a grin falling from his features. The Mexican stared intently into the eyes of this callow recruiter, his lips curled downward into a cutting frown.

"Sorry, kid. I don't do drugs. Trading or taking." Raul responded after a long silence, his gaze never leaving the child, his muscles tensing up in anticipation for an immediate response. "I should call the police on you right now, actually... But since you're a kid, let me give you some advice: Get out while you can... like right now... or you might not live to see your next birthday... The business and all."

Without another word, Raul would make his way up to the bar, toss a bill on the counter for the drink and make his way out, his posture relaxed, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets as if nothing had happened.

Markus didn’t like this guy…

Truth be told he didn’t like anyone, but this Raul guy was really pissing him off. The guy had absolute shit taste in bars for one thing, and a horrible idea in what a decent meal or drink should be. Then there was his face. his cool, relaxed gaze even after being offered thousands of dollars made Markus want to slap the shit out of him! He didn’t look excited, grateful, NOTHING! The fucker just sat there like a fool, thumb shoved right up his ass as he peered at the needle and its contents like it was a damn alien from mars!

Markus honestly thought it was a ploy to jack up the price. A few of the other offers had tried something similar, and Raul seemed like the type of lug head that would pull a similar stunt. He watched Raul with little interest…why the hell didn’t he accept already?

Raul didn’t even touch the needle again…He simply looked Markus dead in the eye and denied the offer. He seemed tense, watching Markus carefully. Markus had to admit, he didn’t expect such an outcome. All the others…they were more than on board, some looking to take things a step further than the trial guidelines intended. Markus crossed his arms…and smiled.

Fucking coward!

The bastard! Threatening to call the cops but then walking away like he was top shit! What the hell was this “kid” shit? How god damn naïve! He claimed to know the business, telling Markus to get out while he could…he shouldn’t have listened to his own advice…

“Well…my employer isn’t going to like that…but if there is nothing to change your mind…”

Raul stood up, walked off and paid the shitty barkeep for his drinks. His relaxed posture was something Markus noted as he pulled the cell phone from his pocket and began to make a few calls.

--

The sun had set as the two men chatted in that bar, night slowly creeping  over the tops of the buildings of the city. Raul wouldn’t be harassed for some time…until a car slowly pulled up in front of him. Before anything else could happen, a thug jumped out of the passenger seat and shoved Raul into a nearby alleyway. The driver was quickly climbing out of the car, looking to assist his passenger in the gruesome job of ”convincing” Raul.

Raul had been in the business of crime for a long time and he had a damn good idea of what to expect next... As he walked out into the streets, hands tucked neatly into his pockets, the former gangster found himself watching every angle his eyes could reach, searching for irregular movement that might imply hostility... or tracking... There was no way anyone who a dealer approaches to... you know... deal would be allowed to just walk free. While he hadn't ever trafficked himself, he knew people that had... and those who don't take them up on their offers usually end up dead... or worse. If this man was anything like those guys back home... then he had a target on his back, just waiting for takers...

It wouldn't be long before someone sought to collect.

Just as Raul was starting to cross a road, a damn car pulled up RIGHT in front of him, the sudden appearance of it reflexively sending the Mexican SPRINGING back with surprise! Not an instant after the car had come to a complete stop, two men had gotten out, one stepping out of the passenger seat, SHOVING Raul BACKWARDS, nearly taking him off his feet as the momentum of the push directed him into an alley just behind! The second man, the driver, came out a moment after, following just behind his brother... both looking less than happy...

"Well... I either owe you money... or you've got the wrong guy..." Raul muttered, stepping back cautiously as the men approached, raising his fists defensively as he lowered into a fighting stance. "Surely we can be gentlemen about this..."