Mmm, Beer {Frank}

[Joshua Silvera]

Joshua had finally secured a night off. He had driven out to Ramsa to meet his coworker, nicknamed Buddy for whatever reason, and they'd agreed to rendez-vous with some friends at the local bar/gathering area for some brews and a few games of pool. It wasn't an hour into their drinking session when Joshua had taken all of Buddy's money, and he feigned a phone call from his wife in order to escape.

"Come on, man," Joshua hounded, hitting him lightly with the pool stick as he swigged his beer with the other. "Don't try that shit with me, Steven and Jess already told me how you start to lose money and then bail. I'll give you a chance to win it back," he offered. As tempting as the offer was, Buddy's phone did ring - and his wife was babbling about how the kids were being unruly and she was being paged by the hospital and there was too much going on and he had to come home right then.

Josh rolled his eyes and didn't refund the well-earned money as his friend closed his tab and bailed, leaving Joshua alone with the two other chaps who themselves seemed not to be enjoying the atmosphere - and the severe ass beating they were taking in billiards by Josh. As a sniper, he'd always had a well trained eye... pool was no exception.

[Frank Laun]

Frank had enjoyed a pretty laid back week. No serious hunts to speak of, and he hadn't had much to do besides work out and put in some time at the range. Boredom finally took its toll and he decided to go get a drink...or 12.

Ramsa seemed like an interesting enough town to check out. Frank stopped at a little bar called fittingly enough, Hole In a Wall. He just wanted a cold drink, and this seemed like a good enough spot. He walked into the small smokey dive and felt right at home. Other than a battlefield, the other place Frank felt right at home was in a bar. Alcohol helped to suppress some of his more unpleasant memories.

As he sat down at the bar, Frank looked around. Off in the corner by the pool tables he thought he saw a familiar face. No way...could that really be one of his Marine Corp buddies? Well, stranger things had happened recently..like the whole killing vampires for a living thing. Frank grabbed his drink and decided to wander over and investigate.

Sure enough...it was somebody he knew..what were the odds? Frank reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Holy Shit....Josh Silvera, how the hell have you been? What are you up to these days? Still hiding in holes and shooting people before they even know you're there?

[Joshua Silvera]

Even with a distraction, Josh still managed his shot. He'd been systematically eliminating the remaining balls on the table - nobody else would play him after he'd delivered such a severe ass-whooping to his buddies. He straightened up and turned, a brow arched as he prepared for the person talking to him to be someone he didn't want to socialize with.

"Holy shit," he exclaimed. "Laun! Where have you been, man?" he said with a laugh, reaching out to shake his hand firmly. "What the hell are you doing here?" He couldn't mask his shock, and pulled up a stool to sit on, tossing his stick back on the rack half-assedly.

"Nah, not hiding in holes anymore, dude. I'm SWAT for NYPD now. Yeah, apparently if you go overseas and blow enough shit up, you get to work for SWAT. Pretty cool, isn't it?" he asked, a boyish sort of grin on his face. Josh was a little older, but he hadn't aged mentally very much since he hit about 23.

[Frank Laun]

Well, Good to see he hadn't walked up to the wrong person. SWAT huh? Man, should he tell Josh about the cash that he had made as a merc? Seeing one of his buddies, and a damn talented one at that, wasting his time as a cop kinda sucked.  Frank thought for a second about some of the mission that he KNEW of that Josh had been involved in, and some that Frank had indirectly been involved in with him, leading his Recon squad as support..and knew the guy was a pro. But oh well, some people just have different callings, and it appeared that Silvera had exited the service without becoming completely jaded and cynical like Frank.

"Man, I've been places and seen shit you wouldn't believe bro. I guess you heard about that damn Medal I won and the whole early retirement thing huh? Yeah, well after that bullshit I went Merc. Talk about some fun times...and some good money. I'd offer to hook you up with some of my contacts if you weren't so gainfully employed as 5-0. I've found a new line of work here in town actually, I guess you could call it Private Contracting....so how's the SWAT gig going? Getting any good trigger time?"

Things like this were a key reason that Frank never operated in the US in his Merc days, with the exception of a couple jobs that probably would have gotten him another medal of some kind if the government had even known about it. But shooting at your friends was not something Frank wanted to do, and he had passed on several very high paying jobs that would have placed him potentially at odds with US Troops or Police.

[Joshua Silvera]

Josh raised an eyebrow. "Mercenary, huh?" He held his finger up as Frank began explaining, and then quickly stopped under the exact reason Joshua's protest had begun. "Yeah, man. I'm a good guy, but I'm a good, mostly law-abiding guy, so... don't force my hand, and I'll let you do your little operation with a blind eye. Just don't go trying to kill any good guys," he warned, serious but with a humorous tone to his voice.

"SWAT is going good man, really good. We had to go after a bank robbery the other day. Six guys... in full body armor! What will they think of next? I got a few of 'em. None of them got away... evidently we had an off duty cop on the inside who just happened to be there at the time, so we had some help. Didn't lose any hostages, didn't give them any of the stupid shit they asked for. It was a good day," he sighed, raising his beer and taking a sip.

He had to admit, he was sort of curious about Frank's gig, but Josh was a fairly honest guy, and he couldn't just turn a blind eye to things he knew too much about, so he kept his questions to himself. Instead, he handed him some darts.

"Play a round and shoot the shit, man," he offered.

[Mike Anderson]

Mike had been out hunting this contract most of the night. It had taken him all the way from the streets of New York to Ramsa. But now he was sure this was his guy. It was a sad story really, and one Mike could kinda relate to. From what the file said this dude had been a loner, an outcast, and he had been approached by a Vampire with promises of immortality, if only he would bring the vampire the type of victims he desired..and those victims happened to be children. Well, one thing lead to another and some pissed off father had some how found his way to Bruja, and put a hit on this guy, who at this point may or may not be a blood bond, they weren't certain. But Mike had found him coming out of his scum hole apartment in New York and stalked him to this back alley in Ramsa.

Now, it was time to act. Like a light switch being flipped, Mike went into his killing mode. He whistled and the guy turned and stopped. Mike quickly caught up to him under the pretense of bumming a light. But instead of reaching for the offered lighter he stabbed the guy in the sternum with his long dagger. And using his brute strength to hold the man upright, he flicked out his Benchmade with the other hand and deftly sliced his throat. Mike yanked the knife out and stepped out of the way as the arterial spray arced across the alley. Satisfied the target was down, he turned and exited the alley way.

Turning the corner, Mike had one of his titanium stakes in hand, awaiting the arrival of the dead guys master, if in fact he had been bonded. When nothing happened Mike sighed and tucked the stake away, so the vamp hadn't even cared enough to bond the dude...typical. All that work needed a reward, and Mike saw a bar up ahead, seemed like the perfect place to watch and see if the meat wagon showed up.

Mike entered the smokey little dive and ordered a nice cold New Castle. He stood sipping his beer and watching out the dirty window when he heard a voice from the back of the room that rang a bell. It was a Louisiana or at least deep south accent he heard. Turning curiously, Mike spotted the big man with the long hair back by the pool tables...could it be? No way...Mike walked over to investigate. First thing he looked at was the mans arm, yup, sure enough there was only one man he knew with THAT tattoo.

Mike set his beer down on a table and lunged at the man, jumping up on the bigger man's back.
"Frank, Holy Shit Dude! What the fuck are you doing here! Oh and please don't beat my ass!"
Mike started laughing like an idiot.

Frank was just about to reply to Josh when he felt someone, a big someone, jump on his back. He reached back with one hand to grab his attacker's shirt, and his other hand went for his gun. But then he heard the guys voice. It couldn't be Mike, could it? Frank had only met the kid a handful of times when he had ventured home on leave, but he was Kurt's best friend, and that made him at least like a cousin to Frank, if not another little brother. And Mike had also e-mailed him constantly like Kurt had while he had been in the desert. In fact, Mike had sent him to the guy that did his tat. Frank shrugged him off and whirled to face him.
"Holy shit indeed. You little punk, looks like you're all grown up! The question is whats a geek like you doing in a place like this...anyway, Mike this is my buddy Josh Silvera from the Corp, Josh this is Mike, one of Kurt's best buds."

[Joshua Silvera]

Joshua merely took a step back as a man jumped on Frank's back like a monkey and began taunting him. The entire element about it was harmless, although if he'd sensed an ounce of ill-will, he'd have been all over that shit. His lips twitched, threatening a smile as he watched Frank and the man interact for a moment before Frank slung him off to introduce him.

"Nice to meet you," he said to Mike, giving him a firm shake. His eyebrows raised as Frank said Mike was one of Kurt's friends, and it piqued his interest. "So odd to run into you, it's like this is six degrees of separation or something."

[Frank Laun]

"Yeah it is, so uhhh Mike what exactly brings you to New York I thought you were working in London now...doing some sorta geeky computer shit or something?"

Frank noticed the subtle lump in Mikes light jacket, and knew instinctively it was a gun. Why would a computer geek like Mike be carrying a gun around? Surely stealing Credit Card numbers off the internet was easy enough that you didn't have to kidnap somebody to do it for you.

Well, Frank was sure being nice tonight. Wouldn't he be surprised to know that Mike was in the same line of work he was in, and actually was more experienced. But then again Mike had no clue that Frank was in Crimson. His hacking of the Guild Computers stayed within the Frost house. Well, maybe he could give Frank a little clue as to what he did, throw him for a loop, and he doubted Frank would believe in vampires anyway....

"Actually, I'm in the contracting business, same as you sorta...I was working in London, but one of the uhhh branch offices here had an opening and I took it. A little bit closer to home here than I was in London. And whats with all the geek shit? You weren't complaining when I was hacking porn sites and e-mailing you and the rest of your Recon buddies the passwords!"

Mike reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. It was pretty plain, and only had his name and cell phone number on it...but there was a tiny silver stake in between the two. He handed it to Frank...and was very surprised by the reaction he got.

Frank took the card and looked at it curiously. He almost choked on his swig of Wild Turkey..a Silver Stake, what the fuck? Mike was a member of Frost! Well this wasn't something Frank wanted to discuss in front of Josh at any rate, so better change the subject.

"Yeah well you do what you have to do in the sand box ain't that right Josh?"

[Joshua Silvera]

Joshua knew a gun when he saw it, but he didn't think twice about it. He certainly wasn't about to ask to see the guy's concealed carry permit, anyways. Mike didn't strike him as a very 'gangsta' sort of type, and anyways, most of the people who'd been overseas came back packing. He sipped his beer with no further comment, not until Frank addressed him.

"Pretty much," he agreed.

He didn't seem to have much to add to the current conversation, since he didn't really prefer to talk about work (either job) outside of their respective areas. He had the ability to displace himself and his careers, which when you considered what he'd done and seen, was probably a good thing.

[Frank Laun]

Frank could tell that Josh didn't want to talk about the military shit that they had both experienced. And really neither did Frank...too much talk and the damn nightmares came back. Those fucking black eyes coming for him. Unable to die....argh, stop it! He commanded his mind to shut the fuck up. Frank sloshed the whiskey in his glass a little bit then gulped it down. He signaled for anoher...maybe that would numb his brain out.

"So Josh, you found an good ladies in this town yet? Seems like there should be quite a few around here.."

Frank trailed off as he glanced around the room. He looked over to the bar to see Mike trying to run game on a woman that obviously wasn't gonna have it. Mike had probably said some dumb shit like usual, and Frank turned and slapped Josh's shoulder to get his attention.

"Man you gotta watch this shit, when Mike gets shut down...he gets SHUT DOWN"

About the time Frank said that, WOMP, Mike got nailed, then the drink tossed on him. Of course Frank was almost on the floor at this time he was laughing so hard.

[Joshua Silvera]

Josh grunted a little when Frank slapped him on the back, still trying to decide if his query of womenfolk deserved a real answer or a sarcastic sort of one. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Mike get a drink bounced off of his chest, and raised his eyebrow. "That sucks," he muttered to himself, eying Frank as he doubled over in loud guffaws of laughter.

"I don't know if I want to tell you where some of the women in this town are if the pair of you two are going to try and run game on them," he said sarcastically, lifting a beer up to Mike as he no doubt came back to where the men were standing after being shafted.

"There's a club called All Hallows a buddy has dragged me to before. It's pretty nice. The girls there are probably the most beautiful I've ever seen. It's classy for a strip club. I mean, I've seen some shitholes, but this one has a dress code and everything. Even their waitresses are hot," he said, sipping his beer. "You should check it out."

[Frank Laun]

Frank was wiping the tears from his eyes and still chuckling as a now vodka and cranberry juice covered Mike walked up. Frank paused for a moment, then looked at the big red splotch on the front of Mike's shirt and started laughing again. Having Mike around as a side kick would probably a hell of a lot of entertainment.

He turned his attention back to Josh. A strip club huh? Frank could go for that, and he had about a really nice club being somewhere in town. And if Silvera said the chicks were hot, he probably wasn't lying. Frank thought for a minute....yup he didn't have jobs planned tomorrow with Skye or otherwise, so hell, why not have a late night.

"That sounds damn fine man,I don't have anything major planned tomorrow. Whadda say we go check it out? Oh and Mike...you can come to if you can keep from spilling shit all over yourself"

Frank fired that last comment off at Mike with a chuckle. Of course...they would have to get Mike some dry clothes since Josh said the place had a dress code.

Mike sighed after the woman fired the drink into his face...whoops wrong line. He turned and tried to preserve as much pride as he could as he made his way back to where Josh and Frank were standing. The talk of a strip club was interesting, and Mike didn't have another job till the next night.

"Shit yeah man...I'm down for a strip club. At least that way I can at least get see some fine women, and not have to put forth the effort to get their clothes off!"

Mike laughed at his own joke and saw Frank roll his eyes. He needed to run by Frost to get some clothes, because he had taken a cab out to Ramsa for tonight's contract. Maybe Frank could give him a ride...and he could ask him about his reaction to the Frost business card.

"Yo Frank, you think you can run me by my place to get some clothes? I took a cab out here."

"Yeah man, I can do that, no big deal. So Josh, you wanna ride with us or have us follow you up there or what?"

[Joshua Silvera]

Josh almost agreed without thinking, because the prospect of All Hallows was too tempting to say no to; however, his work schedule was full for the next two weeks. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately, going through his mental calendar. "Can't," he said finally. "Wish I could. Won't have another evening off until about two weeks from now. But when I am finally free, I will definitely give you a call."

He glanced at Mike, not frowning outright only because he wasn't going to be a dick. "Just... try not to piss any of the girls there off. They'll probably claw your face off," he joked, laughing and pointing at the now-sopping young man. Of course, Joshua would soon find out how much actual truth there was to that statement.