| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Chun Pak |
| Date: | Thu, 13 Nov 1997 23:49:38 +0000 |
>>>>>[Outstanding. He might be a pawn, but we should be able to take him
out without too much trouble. Especially because I picked the cherry I
wanted already.
+++++begin trideo
A security camera, for a basement casino. Roulette, keno, blackjack,
slot machines, the room is crowded with games of chance and their
desperate players, and you watch the inexorable triumph of "house
percentage" for a few minutes before an altercation by the entrance
catches your eye: a young woman, ash-blonde and willowy despite her
motorcycle leathers, escorted by two muscular males, is arguing with the
two guards at the door. At a nod from the woman, both guards collapse
almost in unison.
One of her bodyguards hangs back: the other, of Middle Eastern aspect,
brings a Mini-Uzi from under his embroidered jacket and fires a short
burst into the ceiling.
All activity stops. Many of the patrons and staff fall to the floor by
reflex. Three produce weapons and die, almost in the same second, as
Mani, Sherak and Easy deal quickly and precisely with them.
"I'd like to speak to the manager." Easy says calmly.
A tuxedo-clad Korean bustles forward, hiding fear behind bluster. "What
is the meaning of this? How dare you interfere with-"
Easy sighs. "Who runs this place?"
"Kim Chun Pak is the -"
The shot is loud, several people scream, and Easy lowers the smoking M92
automatic. "I'd like to speak to the former deputy manager, to discuss
this establishment's change of ownership." The manager sways on his
feet, a neat round hole in his forehead beginning to trickle blood,
before he finally crumples.
After a long pause, another tuxedo steps forward: this one a local boy.
"I guess you run this place. For now. Kim may decide-"
"Kim's short on money and manpower." Easy replies. "Was his protection
worth anything to this guy?" She nudges the dead manager with the toe of
a cowboy boot.
"Guess not."
"Good. What were you making before?"
The Elf names a sum: not bad for Tarislar, but hardly exceptional. Easy
snorts. "Hell with that. I choose your book-keeper. You keep five per
cent of the net take for yourself. Gives you a real incentive to
maximise it. Cheat me and I kill you. Clear?"
The Elf pauses to consider what five per cent of this place's net profit
is worth, and his eyes widen. "As crystal, Boss."
+++++end trideo]<<<<<
-- Easy <23@**:41/11-12-58>
