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Ghosts of San Salvo [Attn: Potenza]

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Oct 16, 2011
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150
Robert Burke had been an individual of interest for some time now. Two years ago he went rogue while working for the Boyack Intelligence Firm. His assignment was in Himyar. He has been on the run from the Firm since then. He figures he is still hidden. In reality he never was.
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Martin Sunter was the Director of Gallian Operation within the firm. He was the cousin of Markus Boyack, the CEO as well as the Chancellor of Wasatch. Regardless of his family ties to the big kahuna, Martin earned his way to this keep. He has killed dozens for the Firm, as well as sold out a few of his own friends working in the governments of Gallian nations. Today however, he got to order the murder of a traitor. Today he could know for a fact that what he was doing was right. Burke was a stupid man, and a selfish man. He had 'snuck' back into Wasatch and used one of his buddies still working in the firm to produce a chip with the GPS locations of all the chemical WMD's within Wasatch. His buddy was killed the minute Burke landed in Potenza. Now it was Burkes' turn.

Martin sat in the back of the 2012 Cadillac Escalade (Wasatchians love ONLY Wasatch vehicles no matter what continent theyre on) looking over the kill order. In the front sat his two right hand men. The were driving to the Piazzi estate. The Piazzi family had long been one of the Firm's closest friends in Western Gallia. The deal had been money for information for a long time. Either in the form of Piazzi paying for information about what the government of Potenza was up to, or teh Firm paying for street information. Now however they would have to strengthen that relationship even further.

Martin opened his door as they arrived and realized there were already some greeters coming out. How polite.
 
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Mario Piazzi looked out the second story window of his estate, which was glamorous to say the least. It had been the country home of some noble in the middle ages, and then Piazzi's great grandfather, with the wealth accumulated by the family, had built addition after addition after addition, with Piazzi's father modernizing it a bit to including better circuits of electricity. Mario himself had added the internet - it was the least he could do, any way. It seemed like every generation of Piazzi had to add something to the estate. As the second largest, and first most influential, crime family in Potenza, you had to keep up appearances.

The mafia boss finished his wine glass and put it down on the table next to him, turning and walking out of the bedroom. As he made his way down the grand staircase he could hear music in the next room: the soft piano tune of some Aren composer. When the Cadillac was let in through the front gate and guided by Piazzi's men towards the front door, the sound of car doors opening and closing could easily be heard inside the building. This was followed by the low sound of the voice of Piazzi's consigliere, a title which meant an adviser of sorts.

"What was that, father?" came a feminine voice.

"Some visitors," Piazzi called back, "don't worry."

The door opened, and the Wasatch personnel came in. Piazzi bowed gently, saying in his English tinged with the Potenzan accent of the Tiburan language, "Welcome to Potenza, dear sirs. I trust your flight went well? Good. Please, join me in my lounge."

He guided them into the lounge where he often entertained visitors. They rested on snug couches with exquisite paintings of landscapes on the walls, some of them originals from well known Potenzan artists. Around the room were a few of Piazzi's personal guard - his soldati - who, while not being overly threatening, kept their eyes on the Wasatch visitors. Piazzi's dark eyebrows furrowed as he looked over the kill order, nodding, seemingly approvingly.

"You had told me it would be different than most of our deals, Mr. Sunter," Piazzi began, leaning back and clasping his hands together, "and different it is. It is not often the Piazzi family is asked to become involved in matters of international affairs.

The click clack of high heels was heard, along with a soft feminine voice counting numbers: "1...2...3...1...2...3..." The men in the room turned and saw a young, perhaps 17-year old woman walk in, wearing a lovely dress over her thin body. She was looking straight forward and made no direct eye contact with anyone there. In her hands was a tray with a pitcher of a dark liquid and a few cups.

"Father," she started, "I thought you and your guests might enjoy some tea?"

Piazzi immediately stood up, walking over and planting a kiss on his daughter's cheek, "Oh, you have the heart of your mother, don't you?" He took the tray from her hands, adding, "Now run along, Gina. Papa will take care of this. Practice your piano, so our guests can have some music, hm?"

The girl bowed before the room, doing a 180-degree turn and counting as she went away, "1...2...3...1...2...3..."

Piazzi walked over to the couch again, planting the tray on the coffee table between his own couch and the couch with the three Wasatch men. As he poured everyone a cup of tea, the sound of a slow piano melody could be heard coming from across the home. Piazzi sat back and clasped his hands together, smiling as he returned to business:

"Now tell me...is there anything I should know about this mission?"
 
Joined
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"Well Mr. Piazzi there are a few points. One being the fact that Burke is here to sell information about my home countries arsenals to your home countries government. This could annoy your own government officials. But, I do not know many governments that would seek to anger either the Firm or your organization. The most they could do is snap their fingers and say rats." Sunter then looked down and took a sip of the tea cup that had been handed to him. He tried to hide the disgust in his face. Tea was certainly not a Wasatchian's drink.

"Excuse me Mr. Piazzi, where is your bathroom?" one of Sunter's men asked. After being given directions, the man walked away. Poor bastard. Going to powder his nose. More and more agents were falling victim to the White Lady.

"Anyway, another point of interest is that we'd like it to be a message. We need to show the governments of Gallia and the world that we will not stand for this. He is going to be making the deal in a small coffee shop in the middle of town. If he were gunned down immediately after the hand off, that would be perfect. Whether he is sniped or you blast his face off from close range, either would be fantastic. Then of course the chip would have to be received from the government official. What you do with him is of no concern to me or my superiors." Sunter gave a quick pause in order to see their facial reactions. All the Piazzi men were watching their Don's face. Which would surely help the man win a game of poker.

"Payment of course. I almost forgot that clause. How does 5 million sound? 2.5 before and 2.5 after."
 
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Piazzi dropped a single cube of sugar into his tea, taking a spoon and stirring it counterclockwise as he listened to Sunter speak. He nodded about the payment and brought the cup up to his lips, drinking it quietly before finally saying:

"That sounds about right for this deal. Close range could be dangerous. If the government agent is gunned down or hurt, there could be repercussions. We have a good relationship with the government here in Potenza, especially as many in the Chamber are paid by my family, and that's because of a simple deal: I don't bother the government, they don't bother me. You'll have to go far back in time to even find someone employed by the Piazzi who killed a Carabinieri. A sniper might be more appropriate, and I know some men who will be able to take care of that. Close range is not, however, out of the question entirely, especially if you want to make a statement."

The piano music now rose into a higher tempo as Gina began to play a happier tune from some Engellexic operetta. Piazzi couldn't help but quietly sing the English lyrics a moment before putting his tea down and leaning back to continue speaking.

"Where is this meeting taking place? That could decide everything."
 
Joined
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"It's taking place in a small coffee shop, 18 hours from now. Nine o' Clock at night. Oh yes, of course, the file." Sunter opened another folder and it showed pictures, an address for the store (revealing that it was in uptown San Salvo), the name and address of the manager, and the back alley behind the shop.

"According to our intercepted phone calls, the government worker will be entering in through the back alley, and back out through the same alley. It would be wise to post men there after the worker enters, not before. Burke will already be seated in the coffee shop. He should be killed right as he walks out the door. Preferably a gruesome shot. The government worker is leaving before Burke, and the two will be out of sight from one another. Making it possible to kill him up close, or from afar. Either, of course being absolutely fantastic." Sunter looked at Piazzi and waited for a response.
 
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Piazza kept his stoic look as he listened, a finger resting on his lips in thought. Finally, he nodded and held up two fingers.

"Two soldati from my capodecina in San Salvo. They'll run up when this Burke comes out and blow him away, point blank. Then they'll escape. It will have to be quickly done, but I think we should be able to manage it. They'll plant several bullets into him, so that when he falls down it will be made sure he won't stand up. They won't use silencers so that all in the area will find out."

The piano melody was now getting slower, Gina having moved on to another Aren composer.

"Does that satisfy you gentlemen?"
 
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