OOM: Business taken care of

He's well used to sitting at home and waiting for news on how business has gone. It's been that way for a long time. This is different though, because this is Random out there and getting his hands dirty and while he knows that the man is good, it's still a worry.

So he's sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of Scotch and impatient fingers tapping on the tabletop. He knows Mal did her bit and is fine. But what of Random?

OOM: News

Just like anywhere else, Texorami has newspapers. They're more laid-back than a lot of places though, because life is pretty easygoing here and no one gets that up in arms about things. So, while the burning of two nightclubs and the deaths of five prominent 'businessmen' do make the front pages, it's muted and with more than a little air of big deal. It's especially evident when other club owners are quoted. It's not like people don't know why those particular men were targeted, even the journalist writing the story.

No, the buzz on the ground is more along the lines of who?

Ramon throws the paper down and lights a cigar, before looking up at the man standing in front of his desk.

'My name hasn't been mentioned?'

'No. Everyone thinks you're too new. Although there have been one or two questions about where you came from. It's rare when no one knows a contact in another city that's heard of you.'

'Don't worry about that, Carl.'

He knows Carl has been wondering too. His accent sticks out a little too much, his colouring a little out of place. No one really cares, it just causes a few eyebrows to raise when the mystery person is rich, starts up a business, and makes a move on the drug trade with no one having a clue where he came from. Ramon lazily thinks that he and Random should take a trip to other places on this planet and find somewhere where he can set up a history, just in case. It had been a nightmare finding someone willing to completely invent a tax history when he got here.

Ramon pours Carl a drink and slides the glass over to him.

'Don't leak it was me. The cops will know soon enough anyway, no sense giving them a heads up. Just send people out tonight and buy up all the street guys that belonged to them. Give them a small bonus and tell them they have a new employer.'

His tequila is thrown back and he grins.

'And get my shit on the streets.'

And just like that, he's back in business.