The Nuclear Job

The hot June sun beats down on the Earth, the heat almost suffocating at times. While some choose to stay indoors in their nice, swank air conditioned houses and apartments, some choose to brave the heat and seek fortune and fun at the various beach spots strewn along the eastern coast. Either way, each have their own brand of fun, and they choose to enjoy the summer the way they like most.

One man in particular has chosen neither of these opportunities. While others may be out enjoying the breezy, carefree attitude of summer, he is all business. His immacuately tailored suit breathes perfectly, so that there isn't so much of a single bead of sweat on him. The newspaper is held tightly in his hands, eyes browsing the sports section, even though he doesn't particularly care for sports in general. There may be a team or two that he takes interest in, but it isn't a past time he delves into very often.

The pages ruffle slightly in the breeze, as do the coats of the two bodyguards currently with him. Where Vincent doesn't sweat, they most definitely are— but then they don't have the luxury of the small bit of shade that he does, and it isn't something that's on his mind. They're new, but trustworthy as far as he can see. Both have family members in his organization, but even then, he certainly isn't going to turn his back to them. Not after his last betrayal.

The boat rocks gently as a tall woman in a breezy, brown patterned sundress boards. Her eyes are hidden by an overly large pair of Jackie O sunglasses and her head is covered by a wide brim hat. Around her neck a diamond pendant glitters in the sun, catching a small glint every time she swallows or takes a breath.

She seems a little preoccupied with something in her handbag and as she fishes it out she turns toward the collection of men and freezes, hand still in the bag. "Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Her South African accent is much more pronounced when facing the strangers. Though she doesn't raise her hand from the bag, the muscles in her forearm tense just a little, as though she has just gripped something.

At first, the two men accompanying Vincent are unaware of Vasha, but the Boss knows she's there. It's something he'll have to comment on later once they're on their way back to base. The two men are smart enough, however, to keep their eyes on the woman the entire time, especially when her forearm tenses- even if just that little bit. Each turn their bodies in her direction, eyes focused, hands slowly moving upwards towards the inside of their coats. They're here for one purpose, and that's to protect Vincent.

After all, he can't go and get himself shot by an attractive woman on such a nice yacht. He has plans.

"Miss Kruger," Vincent begins, folding the paper up and laying it across the table. "I'm sorry to present myself in such a way- inviting myself onto your boat while you were out, the armed guards… but I'm afraid in these trouble times it's necessary. One can never be too careful anymore." A lesson he's learned all too well. "I hate to offer you a seat on your own yacht, but please, join me. I took the pleasure of bringing a bottle of wine from my own personal collection. Would you care for a glass?"

"The gift of wine is well received, Mister…" Vasha's voice drifts off as she turns her head slightly to the side, eying the strange man. Stepping a little closer to the indicated seat, she slips out of the cork heeled wedges on her feet, coming down another three and a half inches.

Before sitting, she turns to each of the armed guards and raises her chin in quite a haughty manner. "The two of you are dismissed to the plank. Make certain that no one trespasses on my property." She has no qualms about ordering around the servants of another, not even giving Vincent a second glance until she is finished.

As a show of good faith, her arm relaxes and withdraws from the purse, her hand empty. "If you would be so kind as to pour me a glass, I am happy to see that you chose an excellent white. A refreshing drink for such a warm afternoon, ja?"

The two men exchanges glances between one another, unsure of what to do with their new order from Miss Kruger. They finally look at their boss, who with a simple motion of the finger gives them permission to follow her order. They each relax, if only slightly, and begin heading in the desired direction of Vasha, leaving the two of them to their wine.

"You may call me Mr. Wolf," he responds as he picks up the bottle of wine, already on ice, and uncorks it. There's minimal foam, and he proceeds to pour two glasses, sliding the extra one in the lady's direction as the glass glints in the midday sun. "I have a business proposition for you, Miss Kruger."

The purse is set down beside her foot as she slinks into the chair and crosses her long legs at the knee. As soon as the glass is within reach, she plucks it up and cants it in his direction in a small toast. "Business proposition? Why Mister Wolf, how ever did you know that I have been expanding my portfolio?"

A wane smile is graced in Vincent's direction and she finally pulls the sunglasses from her face. She, like he, is not perspiring in the least. Either her demeanor is just too cool or she is just too comfortable in the midday sun to let off any glow. "What sort of business are you proposing? I do have my limits as to what I will do. After all, a woman of my standing, it would never do to … say… ehm… be cheap?"

Returning the toast, Vincent takes a long sip from the wine, savoring the taste. He finally sets the glass down and folds his hands together across the table, watching Vasha for a few moments before finally speaking. "I'm acquainted with your father. I have contacts in many places, and my contacts led me to you. You seem to be just the woman for the job, Miss Kruger, and I am highly interested in your talents."

He takes another sip of wine, letting the previous information sink in, before finally continuing. "I need a package obtained for me. The… contents of the package are best left out of this. However, they are highly dangerous, and it needs to be handled with the utmost care possible." Another sip. "You will be well compensated. Money is not an issue with me." From within his pocket, he withdraws a small, simple slip of paper and a rather elaborate pen, and he slides the two of them across the table. "I can not give you any more details than that. If you choose to pass, I will find someone else to perform the job for me. Should you choose to accept my proposition, write down your price, and I will consider this a done deal. After that, we will get to the details."

"My price would depend entirely on the difficulty of the acquisition, Mister Wolf." Vasha's tone is monotonous and almost annoyingly polite. She follows with another, this time longer, sip of her wine. "Of course there is their value to consider as well… I would hate to be underpaid on such a dangerous endeavor. Would you be so kind as to relinquish those two very minor details?" Her lips curve into a pleasant twitch of a smile. It is plainly obvious that the woman has quite the poker face.

With two fingers, the brunette pulls the slip of paper and the pen towards her and then looks Vincent directly in the eye. "If you are familiar with my work, then you do realize that I only trade in raw uncut diamonds?"

"Take the highest amount you have ever been paid, and double it," Vincent responds calmly, hands still folded across the table in front of him. He demeanor betrays nothing, but inside, he is growing impatient. He has many things to do, and while the scenery is nice, he would like to get to them. As for the diamonds…

Spreading his arms out to his side, he fixes a look on Vasha that shows he clearly means business. "I am a business man, first and foremost, Miss Kruger. I do not spend my time dabbling in petty criminal activities. We're not robbing the corner liquor store. I daresay this may be one of the more dangerous assignments you'll have to face." He takes the final sip of wine in his glass, finishing it off and setting the glass down on the table softly. "If uncut diamonds is what you require for payment, then so be it. If there's one great thing about this country, it's that you can get anything if you try hard enough."

Plucking up the pen, Vasha scribbles down a substantial figure before placing the pen down on the table and pushing the paper across to him. Her eyes narrow just a touch before one of her eyebrows tweaks upward and she settles into a relaxed Mona Lisa smile. "If you are prepared to pay this sum, then I will accept your proposition."

"I will need the details of where I will be going, schematics would be the best. If I am to acquire them myself, you may add an extra fourth of the sum." She's confident and with a sweep of her hand, she is picking the glass up. Another long drink is taken before she looks at him again, this time her demeanor lifting from serious to something a little less so. "My favorite color of diamond is red. The blood diamonds."

Vincent's eyes remain on Vasha's the entire time she's writing down the figure on the piece of paper, and only when she slides it back across to him does he look at it. He takes no more than two seconds to commit the figure to memory, and he slips the piece of paper into the inside pocket of his suit. From within the same pocket he withdraws a small, manila envelope, folded in half. Placing it on the table and smoothing it out slightly, he proceeds to slide it across the table towards Vasha.

"You'll find everything you need to know in there. I have no problems with you hiring any outside help you might need— so long as they do not know what the Package contains, and they are kept unaware of the finer details of the operation. What's inside the Package is detailed inside that envelope. I trust you'll get rid of the evidence once it's committed to memory."

He takes a few moments to pour himself another glass of wine, taking a sip from it before finally speaking again. "I'll also trust that whoever you hire will keep this to themselves, and do not have what one would call… a loose tongue. Should there be an information leak, I will have to deal with it personally, but I have no interest or time for such things. I have killed people for less, Miss Kruger. Should the need arise, I will kill again, but I shall be very disappointed. I do not like being disappointed."

Vasha takes the envelope but does not open it in front of Vincent. Instead, she drops it into the purse at her feet and gives him a cool smile. "I will not make contact with you until the acquisition is made. I trust that contact details are in the envelope as well?"

When he begins to speak about hiring outside personnel, she turns her head away to hide a sneer of distaste. "Anyone else in this matter would cut into my profits, Mister Wolf. I am not accustomed to sharing my hard earned wages." After draining the glass, she looks toward the guards at the plank and turns back to Vincent. "What time is it, Mister Wolf? I am afraid I have an engagement that I must be ready for."

"Indeed," is the simple response from Vincent, who finishes off his glass of wine. "I trust you'll take care of the rest of this," he says, motioning a hand in the direction of the bottle.

"As for the time," he continues, glancing at his elaborate watch strapped to his wrist, "it is time for me to be leaving." Standing from the table, he buttons the front of his suit, which had been kept slightly open. "I appreciate our arrangement, and I look forward to when you contact me," he says, giving the woman a nod. The two guards who had accompanied him take notice of their boss standing up, and they snap to attention, ready to follow his orders. With a final nod, the man leaves Miss Kruger to her wine, and heads for the dock, his two guards following closely behind.

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