2007-02-23: Murder Incorporated


Gabrielle_icon.gif Mr-Hendrickson_icon.gif

Summary: Mr. Hendrickson meets Gabrielle at her office, late at night, to hear a very interesting business proposition.

Date It Happened: February 23rd, 2007

Murder Incorporated

B and W Trading - Gabrielle's Office

Mr. Hendrickson would have been greeted down in reception, discreetly, by one of Miss Simmons's assistants. The girl wouldn't know who Hendrickson was, why he was here, or any other details about him, and would know better than to ask. She would be completely professional in leading the way to a secured side-elevator, and taking Gabrielle's visitor to the floor or office is on, before showing the way to said office.
She even makes sure that Miss Simmons is aware her visitor is here, by knocking and opening the door for the man, so that he doesn't get 'lost' and wander off to places he shouldn't be. When the door opens, Mr. Hendrickson and the assistant would be greeted with the sight of the luxuriously large office, Gabrielle Simmons standing with her back to them, wearing a bathrobe (does she have a shower in here too?), looking out the glass wall that overlooks the city, lit up like a swarm of fireflies by all the night lights.
Also, Metallica's 'Nothing Else Matters' is playing from a stereo system. The version from the live S&M concert CDs. Gabrielle turns around, her wet, crimson hair hanging down her back, and says in a barely discernible French accent, "Please, come in, Mister Hendrickson. Tabetha, please wait outside the door." The assistant girl nods silently and then steps out, closing the door behind her. Gabrielle walks over to the mini-bar, and trails a hand across the counter, as she says, "Would you care for something to drink?"

Mr. Hendrickson, stepping in from the snow outsie, removed his coat and black hat, nods slightly to the assistant, and follows her quietly, without saying a word. He is dressed in his usual black suit and red tie, allows himself to be escorted through the building, carrying his dark grey overcoat in one arm, and his hat tucked underneath the other.
When they get to the office, he simply waits for the Nameless Assistant to knock, and raises an eyebrow slowly upon seeing the rather luxurious office. Mr. Hendrickson makes a mental note, and then proceeds inside, making use of a coatrack should one be available, or using the back of a chair if one is not. Regardless, he shakes his head at the offer of a drink. When he speaks, the glint of metal is just visible inside his mouth, "No, thank you."

Gabrielle picks up a small remote and aims it vaguely towards the television as she presses a button, turning off the music. She nods at Mr. Hendrickson's response, and then sets down the remote on the counter. There is indeed a coat rack. The red-head moves towards the social area, gesturing with a hand in that direction, and saying, "Please, have a seat. Unless you prefer to stand. Some people have that preference."
She seats herself upon one of the leather couches, and crosses one leg over the other, showing that this bathrobe is one of only a few things she is wearing, judging by the amount of leg exposed. There are some papers neatly ordered on the coffee table, which she glances at and then leaves alone for now. "I apologize for the hour that you have had to arrive. However, it was necessary to meet after work hours, at least this time." Folding her hands, with neatly manicured fingernails, in her lap, Miss Simmons tilts her head to the side and says, "I will not bother asking your qualifications or anything silly like that. If you were not qualified, neither of us would be here. The job I have to offer you — if you will forgive me not… 'beating around the bush' I believe the expression is? — may be unconventional or new to your experience. At any time, you are free to decline and walk out of this office. The price of your taxi fare, if that is how you arrived, will be covered by Tabetha, for both the trip here and the trip back, as well as a stipend to encourage you do not speak to anyone else about this meeting… Not that I expect you to, but it has been necessary on more than one occasion with some others I have met with."

Mr. Hendrickson nods once, and after setting his coat and hat on the coatrack, makes his way over to the Social Area, and sits down on one of the couches. He makes a note of Miss Simmons relative lack of clothing, but says nothing on the subject, instead simply listening to her offer. His expression remains bland, as if he had heard it all before. He pauses a moment after she finishes, as if considering his choice of words, before speaking. "I prefer to be direct when it comes to business. Name the job, and I will name my price."

Gabrielle nods and smiles slightly as she says, "I wish to hire you on an extended basis, to accompany and coordinate a team of operatives who will patrol the streets of this city, locating disturbances of a criminal nature, such as muggings, robberies, automobile theft, attempted murders, attempted rape, and all the other charming little things this city has to offer." She says this last bit with a chillingly hate-filled smile on her red lips.
"You and the other operatives who will be at your disposal, will be armed, and equipped for this task, as per your specifications, within reason. What you do about these scum who would prey upon other humans is up to you, as long as the crimes they are perpetrating cease. Any measures are viable, though violence is encouraged. It will help the message get across that there is no room for vermin in this city. How long your services are acquisitioned depends on your own schedule and needs, and how efficiently you carry out your job. Are you interested?" She leans forward a bit, hazel eyes intensely focused on Mr. Hendrickson.

Mr. Hendrickson listens, raising a single eyebrow as Miss Simmons explains exactly what it is she wants from him. He tilts his head slightly, intrigued but cautious. He makes yet another mental note to never mention his previous employment to Miss Simmons. As she speaks, he reclines in his seat, crossing his legs casually and placing a gloved hand on his knee.
Mr. Hendrickson pauses a moment once Miss Simmons finishes, collecting his thoughts, before speaking. "Before we continue, should I take this job, I reserve the right to be absent from these sorties when my business demands it. Otherwise, I will accompany them personally, as often as possible, barring severe injury. If we can agree upon those terms," He smiles, stainless-steel teeth glinting in the light, "then I believe we have the makings of a deal. First, I have some questions. How often will these patrols take place? How many men or women will comprise a team? How many teams will there be? Am I to be in charge of a single team, the entire operation, or some middle ground between the two?"

Gabrielle nods and replies, "Those are acceptable terms." She barely blinks at the metal teeth, seeming to take the sight in, and then ignore it. She leans further forward, to pick up the papers on the coffee table, and threatens to spill out of her robe in the process. She manages not to, however, and stands up, offering the sheaf of papers to Hendrickson. "The patrols are to take place at least once per week, with as many as three per week, depending on your availability. More than one will receive a pay bonus, but more than three may draw more attention than is healthy from the police. You may be helping them do the job the law keeps them from performing appropriately, but you would be viewed as nothing more than roving vigilantes, and I do not wish to deal with any arrest nonsense."
She returns to her seat, keeping her legs together, and both feet on the ground, this time, as he crosses her arms over her chest. "The average team will contain five to eight members. You may order a team to however many or few you want, within reason, using reserve membership. However, large groups of roving men and women with weapons would draw more attention, and too few may leave you in personal danger. There are presently two other teams operating at this time. They will continue to do so independent of your own team. If you are moved to another team, it will not be without your consent, and if you wish it, may be subject to renegotiation of terms, incase some of the membership is not to your satisfaction."
Gabrielle points to the papers and says, "Those are the profiles of twelve men and women with experience in the military, police force, or special forces, of various countries. You may freely pick and choose who from among them you wish to comprise your team, and who will be held in reserve. Those in reserve have access to a gym, firing range, and combat instructor, to keep them sharp, but are otherwise free to pursue their personal lives as they see fit, as long as it does not interfere with their job."

Mr. Hendrickson takes the files, perusing them idly before setting them on the armrest of couch or chair upon which he sits. He nods slightly, indicating that everything, so far, has been agreeable. "Now, we must talk price. I am willing to hear what you intend to offer for these services. My price, however, would be a regular salary as retainers, plus $1,000 per beating, and $5,000 per murder, to be paid to each team member who participated in that night's patrol. That's $1,000 and $5,000 for /each/ member. Should one of the team be caught, money will be discretely provided for good, if not the best, defense lawyers. Are these terms acceptable?"

Gabrielle narrows her eyes, red eyebrows coming down, as she says, "The other members of the team are already being paid seperately, under terms they have negotiated. Your terms for your own payment are acceptable, but I will not be paying bonuses of that nature to the others, unless you want to explain to them that they will be renegotiating their terms, and may wind up receiving a smaller base salary than what they originally agreed to."
She stands up, and says, "Furthermore, you will not be 'murdering' anyone. If killing a perpetrator of a crime is deemed necessary, you may do so, but killing someone in cold blood, without just cause, is not something I will reward, and is one of the things you are trying to stop. That being said, I will pay the $5,000 for a criminal death that occurs at your hands, or the hands of your team, and I will be TRUSTING that you are not simply killing wantonly. The $5,000 will go to you only. We are negotiating for your payment, and no one else's. If I discover you are killing people just for that bonus, then your contract will be terminated immediately, and you will only be paid for patrols engaged in prior to that point."
Sitting back down, she says, "The defense lawyers will be provided, as requested. Are THESE terms acceptable?"

Mr. Hendrickson takes in this new information with his typical, bland expression, watching Gabrielle closely before mulling it over. As before, he pauses before speaking, as if choosing his words or thinking it over. "Well then, it appears we are getting somewhere, but if we are simply negotiating my payment, then that changes things. My price is $5000 per criminal beating preformed personally. $10,000 per criminal death at my hands. I will not be paid for the work of others. My salary as a retainer stands, and I will trust you to decide upon a fair amount per month. In addition, I will not request nor require you to provide me with a defense lawyer should I be caught. If you decide you wish to provide one, I won't mind, but I prefer to take care of my own problems, personally. Furthermore, I give you my word I will not pad my tally with innocents. I take my word very seriously, as I will take /your/ word very seriously. I despise a double-cross, and while in your employment, I would not react kindly if I found out you had gone back on your word or back out of our deal."
He gives her a half-smile, teeth shining. "Are those terms agreeable, or do you have an issue you wish a comprimise over?"

Gabrielle nods and says, "Those are acceptable." She smiles, her previous signs of tension dissipating. "Let me know when you plan to begin, and your money will be ready in a safe-deposit box, one of the keys to which you will be provided. Unless there are further issues or concerns, our business here is completed."

Mr. Hendrickson nods, and stands, picking up the dossier and tucking it underneath his arm. "I will leave a message with your office within a few days." With that, he gives her a slight nod, "Until next time, Miss Simmons." He turns, walking over to the coat rack, where he picks up his coat and hat, sliding the dossier into a pocket of the overcoat, and making his way to the door.

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