The Vexley Estate stood tall in the vast, newly mowed land, sun spilling through the bulletproof windows. As usual, Sulien sat behind his custom forged desk, his fingers gliding across the smooth surface as he glanced over the stack of arranged documents.
The polished marble floors glistened in the sunlight and the faint scent of tobacco hung in the air, with thin wisps of smoke drifting around the room.
Opposite him sat two men in suits, one in a dark red suit and the other in a black suit which couldn't really be called black any more. They wiped the sweat off their faces as if they hadn't already signed their souls away ten minutes earlier.
Sulien leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes staring directly at the men. The silence hung heavy in the air with each move from Sulien resulting to both men flinching and fidgeting in their chairs. Sulien's lips curved just slightly, clearly amused by the reactions he got from both men. Even going as far as unnecessarily moving around just to edge them on.
After a while of toying with them, Sulien finally turned serious and spoke, lifting the spell of silence from the room. "Well, then. We will handle logistics, as well as the routes through the north and eastern coasts. Port clearance will also be pre-arranged. You'll pay eighty up front, and the rest upon delivery. Any objections?"
Although Sulien asked a question, he wasn't expecting an answer at all. What he offered was final, and if these men had any sense, they would catch on to it.
The older man in the washed out black suit nodded eagerly. "Sure thing, mr. Vexley. Of course, We're aware that the Scandanavians trust you. We'll have the eighty ready by tomorrow."
Sulien let out a low hum in acknowledgement, then took out a cigar from his cigar box and lighted it up. Smoke, once again, filled the room.
The men swallowed hard, the younger one from the pair, who was no older than 30, shifted in his chair uncomfortably. They watched Sulien's movements with unease, not daring to say a single word. Sulien didn't need any actions to intimidate them, just keeping quiet was enough intimidation for them.
From the opposite end of the room, Grimm knocked on the huge doors and only entered when he heard the order from Sulien. He walked with a straight back, shoes clicking sharply on the marble, his pale eyes flicking briefly from the two seated men to Sulien. He stopped just beside Sulien's desk, waiting for his superior to finish up with his affairs.
"That would be all," Sulien said without looking up, swiftly dismissing them.
The men stood quickly, muttered their thanks, and exited without a second of delay. The room returning back into silence.
Sulien blew smoke from his mouth and gestured to Grimm who in return stepped forward and set a black folder on his desk.
"So?" The smoke from the edge of Sulien's cigar curled upwards like a snake.
"Nothing," Grimm said simply.
Sulien raised a brow in surprise. "Nothing?"
"Yes, sir. There's no records, no old names or aliases tied to them, not even a trail on the dark networks. I also ran it through all our sources, our private interpol leaks, census archives, and the West Bay mercenary index. Still nothing, this guy evaded everyone."
Sulien sat up and opened the folder, the white page glaring back at him mockingly. The page was blank except for the letters XL scrawled in Grimm's tidy handwriting.
He looked at it with an expression that was hard to describe. Sulien didn't react, instead, he blew another puff of smoke and reached out for his private ledger in the top drawer of his desk. He took the ledger out, shutting the drawer quietly before opening to a new page. He grabbed a pen from his pen holder and wrote down XL messily in the top margin of the page, drawing a faint circle around the letters.
Grimm narrowed his eyes seeing Sulien do this and asked, "You think he's a big deal?"
Sulien closed the ledger. "I think he's worth noting."
Grimm nodded in compliance, taking a mental note to dig deeper into the matter. He watched Sulien place the ledger in the inner pocket of his coat before opening his mouth to speak.
"And about the gala?" asked Sulien, his eyes drifting to Grimm.
Grimm folded his arms "We secured full access under the names, Rhys Vargrave and Adriel. Arms collectors from Damascus, they've been confirmed dead so now,we own their passports now."
Sulien hummed in acknowledgement then spoke again. "Our host?"
"Councilman Korran, staunch royalist. He collects antique guns and loves being owed favours. He's agreed to let us through in exchange for a special gift…"
"He wants discounts." Sulien didn't smile, but there was a glint in his eye. With one motion, he stood and did the lower buttons of his coat. "Prepare a shipment of two dozen Nightveil rifles. Send it after the job is done."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you prepared the message?"
Grimm reached into his coat and handed over a small envelope. It was a formal agreement confirming Sulien's willingness to meet with XL in two weeks' time. Sulien nodded at this and handed the envelope back to Grimm.
"Send it through our backchannel," Sulien said. "Let the Donovans think they're pulling the strings."
"Of course."
Sulien took one last drag from the cigar between his fingers, flicked the ash into glass dish on his desk, and walked calmly outside his office and toward the iron elevator shaft in the far wall of the hallway.
The ride down the elevator was quiet, none of the two men spoke, only calmly stood side by side in the not so big space.
The doors chimed open and both Sulien and Grimm walked out and stepped into the basement.
The basement looked nothing like the rooms above. It was cold, old, and lit by a single bulb swaying gently from the ceiling. There were crates of military grade weapons lined along the walls, with tarps covering only what had to be hidden from weak minds and outsiders.
And there, a few steps from the door of the elevator, was a man in a wine-coloured suit, upside down and swinging from an industrial chain. Blood stained a part of his face and shirt collar, his vision blurring from the blood that got in his eye.
He coughed as Sulien entered, the sound echoing against the thick concrete.
"Please," the man rasped. "I already told you what I know…"
"You did," Sulien agreed, pulling up a clean chair from beside the room and placing it in front of the dangling man. He sat down with a sigh, unbothered by the pleas of the man.
He reached for a polished matchbox and relit the cigar he had put between his teeth. Smoke rose all around him in thin, delicate spirals.
"You're going to introduce me to Councilman Korran's inner circle at the gala, without him finding out. You're going to act like nothing happened. And when I leave that room, your debt to me will be reduced. Not cleared, reduced." He blew a puff of smoke.
The man whimpered.
"I could just kill you," Sulien said calmly. "It doesn't really matter to me, you know. It's your choice."
He gestured to Grimm, who had followed him and was silently standing beside him.
"Untie him in an hour. Let him think about his usefulness."
Grimm nodded without questioning his orders.
Not long after, Sulien stood, flicked the cigar ash again, and walked back toward the elevator.
"The gala's in two nights. Make sure he's all patched up before then."
"Yes, sir." Grimm answered and turned to face the dangling man.
Sulien got into the elevator and pulled out his ledger from his coat again. His thumb brushed over the initials he had scribbled down.
He stared at it for a moment longer, then he closed the book and pressed the elevator button. The doors closing shut and ascending swiftly.
It was time to play cat and mouse.
The author has something to say:
XL: I'm most definitely the cat, right?
Sulien: Depends on whose family jewels are bigger.
XL:…
Sulien: Yes, that's what I thought. (smirks)
XL: Motherf- (internally cursing)