2007-07-28: Hatred


Ramon_icon.gif Eric_icon.gif


Bound by common hates and common interests, Ramon and Eric plot in high places.

Dark Future Date: July 28th, 2009


Lancaster Electronics

The office of Lancaster Electronics' CEO looks out over the ruined New York Skyline, a spectacular view. A huge oak desk dominates it, with this huge black leather office chair. A wetbar is off to the side. The carpet is lush and deep. It didn't take long for Senor Ramon Gomez to get used to his luxuries.

And once his second wife was ripped from him, and once he lost two of his kids, it didn't take him long to lose the battle with his slippery moral slope either.

Screaming fills the office. Ramon stands over the screaming figure. All the lights are off, so the shadows of the window cover half his face. The good half. The ruined half is what would be visible to anyone coming into the door, twisted in rage and hatred. He is not actively doing anything to the man. He is, in fact, holding a glass of scotch on the rocks, very fine expensive stuff that rattles around in the glass as his scarred hand tightens its grip. Nothing visible, nothing physical, but he is ripping the man's mind to shreds. He's done it before. It's gotten to where only a few ballsy people will come up here. And only a few have the access code to the door to come in when they want. Eric would be one of those few, of course.

As peaceable solutions go, Ramon is not the epitome of the corporation that he serves.

He's been good for it though. Ruthless and now seemingly lacking in any moral or care except the ones he's developed for himself, he has grown the company in spite of all the dangers. He's hardly recognizable as the humble working man who went off in search of justice for his first wife so many years ago.

And his morals? They've come down to a few basics.

Protect the remains of his family with every resource at his disposal.

Protect his friends with every resource at his disposal.

Guard Eric's interests with razor efficiency.

Direct, from the shadows, as many humans to safety and Mexico as he can.

And tear to shreds the mind of anyone he even /suspects/ might have information on his missing second wife. Desiree is gone, taken or dead he doesn't know, but sometimes he still thinks he feels her presence over his shoulder. He won't rest till he has answers.

See. The thing with Eric now is, well…he dosn't use doors anymore.

Out of the shadows of the room steps a figure. Dressed all in black, a perfectly pressed razor edged business suit. His hair is slicked back, his hands in his pockets. Eric Lancaster isn't quite the same nice young man that met Ramon three years ago. Like Ramon he has his own scars, though his arn't quite as visible. There is one though on his chin, a second on his arm, and a third over his left eye. Those eyes are what really show the scars though. Hard as ice and sharp as a razor. Those eyes sweep over and take in the image of Ramon and the screaming man without comment.

He walks past the pair, to the wet bar where there is a bottle full of that drink that Ramon has. Pulling out a tumbler and grabbing a handfull of ice. Still wordlessly he plucks up the bottle, and pours a generous portion of the amber liquid. He takes a long slow pull off of it before he smiles slightly.

"Good scotch,"

Turning towards Ramon then he just quirks an eyebrow before he sighs and gestures towards the screaming man with his glass. "…what is it this time?"
The screaming abruptly stops, leaving the man weeping. Ramon's sneer curls in deep disgust. The victim's personal rinse mars the otherwise perfect room smell just a little, but with that Scotch to drown it out…

"He's just a despicable pig," Ramon growls, "Who knows nothing about her. But he did know enough to make the next shipment of immigrants that much safer, so it wasn't a total waste of my time." He smirks faintly. "Who ever would have thought Americans would flee to /Mexico/?" He sets aside his scotch.

That's always a bad sign for his victims, when he sets aside his scotch.

He takes out a gun, a slim, expensive model, and starts fitting the silencer on it. He doesn't need the silencer up here. He just enjoys the look of terror on their faces when he starts at it. He burns out the part of their minds that remembers their powers, but leaves them more than enough for their fear.

"…mmmm…" Eric replies as he turns to glance out the window, swirling the liquid around in his glass with his back to Ramon and the man. He frowns slightly before he sighs. "…your going through a fortune in cleaning." He comments, though he dosn't sound all that angry about it. They /can/ afford it. Thats the point really.

"Are either of us any closer to our goals?" He asks as he looks out over the city. Eric's of finding his father's killers, and Ramon's of finding his wives kidnappers. There is a pause again as he listens to the screaming stop.

"The stocks are up, seems that we all are profiting from all this madness." He adds as he takes a slight sip of his drink.

"And no one would ever think of them fleeing towards Mexico. Which is the point of doing it I supose. At least from there they can go wherever they want." Privately he almost thinks them cowards, and very much benith him. "And they owe us afterwards. Which is useful for us."

Ramon lowers the gun and shoots the man between the eyes, execution style, two shots. The sound punctuates the room, and he watches the body fall. Then he puts the gun away. "Gonzalo," his very normal brother, "Gets them set up in a sattellite satellite company of ours that is profiting for us down there as well. And because there are few other places for English speakers to both hide and make money, they stay." Ramon remembers his working man past enough to make sure they can make decent livings though.

Eric just nods. "Turning us a very tidy profit in the end, very neet," The younger man replies before he glances dispassionately at the body. Finishing off the scotch he walks around the body and the slowly pooling blood to set the glass on the bar before he turns towards Ramon again. He hrmms a moment, nodding towards Ramon. "How is Elena?" He asks as he glances towards Ramon. "And did you need to see me for something?" He adds almost curiously.

Ramon growls low, like he always does. Because she won't go be safe. Because she stays here, running around on the ground. She won't even come up to the halls of power with him. His comment is a rough, "She's not dead yet." He stalks to his desk, leaving the body right where it is. He likes having it around for a little while before sending someone to clean it up. "We're going to need another money launderer for the Saints." Staying on topic and getting to the point of why he needed Eric up here. "Or other one seems to have tripped and fallen in front of my desk there."

"Terrible shame, I warned you it was slick there," Eric deadpans before he shakes his head slightly. He smirks though, knowing just why Ramon was growling. Just why he sounded so rough. Still the concerned dad, even if he dosn't like people believing it. He hrmms a moment, glancing at the man before he shrugs. "I'll bring in one of my personal ones. He's from Norway, so he should be at the very least trustworthy enough." Money people are a dime a dozen to be honest. He's learned that over the last few years. "…I knew we shouldn't have used a local." He adds, again the slight shrug though. Not that it matters now. "And I'm glad she's still alive. Its been awhile since I've been here in the states again." He smirks. "Its easier to do long distance with the powers I have now."

"Yeah?" Ramon downs the scotch. "Maybe you could kidnap her to somewhere pretty and tie her down somewhere nice till she comes to her senses." He's not really serious. Mostly. All that talk about him needing to let go of her and let her make her own decisions evaporated when all hell broke loose. He walks over and pours another scotch. "And no. No progress on your thing either. Now tell me what I can do for you, amigo."

"…I think if I tried I'd have a bit more than I barganed for," Eric replies with a slight smirk towards the older man. He would have Elena hitting him, Manny out for blood, and Ramon out to beat the hell out of him once he came to his sences as well. Good times. Good times.

A slight frown then. "The bastards have hidden themselves well," He hisses though clenched teath. One day he'll find them, and he'll take /personal/ pleasure in killing them very very slowly. A shake of his head then before he sighs, letting go for a moment. "…oh nothing really besides that. I just came by to see how the business and the /other/ business was going, and to tell you that…well…I'm moving back here. I'll be getting a penthouse here in town, under an assumed name."

Ramon says, "It'll be good to have you back." Some of his rage is fading back into calm. He's killed a man, he's had some scotch, he's almost like his old self. "Remind me of what we know so far about your father's case." He goes back to sit down, pulling out a legal pad. It's not like he doesn't have expirience tracking down killers. "I know I've heard it before, but remind me again. Maybe I'll see something I haven't seen." He always thinks better after he kills one of Them.

"…it'll be good to be back," The younger of the two men reply before he hrmms a moment. At the question though he snarls softly, the glass being set down with a hard thunk, though he has enough control to not shatter the glass. The shadows seem to ripple slightly before he shakes his head. "Next to nothing, all the factions blame each other, and all would gain from his death. Any evidence was destroyed in the fire and the aftermath. All I know is it happened to /everyone/ at once."

Eric just nods once towards Ramon before glancing at the body. "…I'll send someone up to see to that." He adds after a moment. "And thank you Ramon. Do take care of yourself." He adds with a slight nod and a smile towards him. "…and I'll return the favor if we hear anything about your wife." He murmurs with a slight nod before he turns back towards the shadows in the corner of the room.

Three steps and he dissipears from sight in the darkness, and then soon after dissipears from the room entirely, only to appear halfway across town in his own new penthouse to sigh. Mmmmmm. Yes. Tonight was indeed a productive night, even if he didn't find out anything at all new.

All things happen in good time. He can wait.

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