Post by Christopher Street on Jul 20, 2014 6:00:10 GMT -6
Christopher had been on a roller coaster as of late. Drafted to establish a network in Miami. Then conscripted into service for the Subtera group in San Francisco while constantly forging a network for the De'vir family. Chris now was staring at the large map being projected on the wall. He had a running program that he updated regularly to keep track of his contacts. Everything was encrpyted and coded. But he read it easily. New York, Vegas, Houston, Miami, all were firmly webbed and working pristinely. San Francisco was a CF but it was coming to bare. New Orleans was on the radar, his Cop friend had moved to the area so it would mean a powerful ally... but this sudden burst of activity... The Russians picking a fight so far from home.
He slowly tapped at his chin lightly with one finger. His newest friend had been on the recent injury list so naturally he'd taken an interest. Most overlooked Chris as muscle, as the surfer guy, the racer, the pretty face, and they weren't wrong, bit it was just a well devised armor. He was the tip of the spear in new areas of interest and now he'd found a new target.
If he could talk the De'vir Family into allying with the Russian's most recent targets then they just may be able to push them back. Not only here but also in New York. End the constant back and forth...
He sighed and ran a hand over his features and reached over to tap the device off, locking it. He put it away onto his keychain and stood, slipping glock into the holster at his hip and phone stowed into pocket. He exited the hotel with a dufflebag in tow, tossing it into the back of his WRX. He had a delivery to finish and then he'd stop to visit his injured friend. That was when his phone went off. A message from a ghost... he sighed softly. Seems a detour was in order. The sun wasn't up yet, so he still had plenty of time. He slid into the drivers seat and turned over that boxer engine. It hummed, and vibrated as he pulled away, turning towards... where was home again?
A city full of liars. A city of strangers. Or a city full of his past. Which was the right path, he did not know... but he did decide that he'd not be lied to by those closest to him... or he was going to start erasing contacts with bullets instead of touch screens.-d-
He slowly tapped at his chin lightly with one finger. His newest friend had been on the recent injury list so naturally he'd taken an interest. Most overlooked Chris as muscle, as the surfer guy, the racer, the pretty face, and they weren't wrong, bit it was just a well devised armor. He was the tip of the spear in new areas of interest and now he'd found a new target.
If he could talk the De'vir Family into allying with the Russian's most recent targets then they just may be able to push them back. Not only here but also in New York. End the constant back and forth...
He sighed and ran a hand over his features and reached over to tap the device off, locking it. He put it away onto his keychain and stood, slipping glock into the holster at his hip and phone stowed into pocket. He exited the hotel with a dufflebag in tow, tossing it into the back of his WRX. He had a delivery to finish and then he'd stop to visit his injured friend. That was when his phone went off. A message from a ghost... he sighed softly. Seems a detour was in order. The sun wasn't up yet, so he still had plenty of time. He slid into the drivers seat and turned over that boxer engine. It hummed, and vibrated as he pulled away, turning towards... where was home again?
A city full of liars. A city of strangers. Or a city full of his past. Which was the right path, he did not know... but he did decide that he'd not be lied to by those closest to him... or he was going to start erasing contacts with bullets instead of touch screens.-d-
