Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Nov 20, 2014 4:51:57 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2014 4:51:30 GMT -5
Tonight had been most eventful for Slade Wilson. At the request of Malcolm Fontaine, he'd retrieved information on the murder of Richard Fontaine, Malcolm's father. After his visit to the Blüdhaven Police Department morgue, Slade has discovered that the circumstances surrounding the death of the well-known businessman were indeed odd. The coroner had admitted that he was told to shred the files that evening, but fortunately, the assassin recovered them before that could happen.
Now, on another set of docks here in the industrial district of Blüdhaven, Slade walked towards a warehouse. Although it was now the early hours of the morning, a dim light seeped through the slightly open doors of the warehouse. This was the right place. As Deathstroke approached, he could hear faint chatter and footsteps inside. Slade gripped the handle and slid the large metal door completely open, cutting the chatter short.
Inside, dozens of men immediately looked towards the doorway, with four of them raising automatic rifles. Slade held up the files, putting the armed guards at ease. They nodded, with two of them approaching Deathstroke, guns still in hand.
"We'll take you to the Mr. Fontaine's office." grunted one of them men, still obviously distrusting the assassin. He had no need to be so distrustful. Malcolm Fontaine's offer was acceptable, and Slade fully intended on collecting the other half of his fee when this job was done. Delivering the info allowed him to take another step closer to that goal.
Slade, flanked by the two armed guards, walked up a set of metal stairs to a wooden door. Once they reached the top, one of the men walked over to a table at the side of the door, motioning to it.
"We're gonna need you to leave your weapons out here." he said, extending his hand.
"That's not happening." said Slade in a calm tone of voice. He was a professional. He'd been paid and he had no intention of betraying his employer, especially since once this job was over, more might be offered by Fontaine. It could be a prosperous relationship.
"Mr. Wilson, you can either leave your weapons here voluntarily, or we'll take them from you."
"If you so much as touch me, I'll slice your hand off." Slade replied as he raised his hand to the hilt of his sword. The two men once again raised their guns in response to Slade's actions. He didn't want to get into a fight here, but he didn't like being disrespected either. He wouldn't allow these goons to insult him, and if either of them made a move, it'd be their last. Suddenly, the office door swung open.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2014 15:51:26 GMT -5
It’s been a rough year for Malcolm Fontaine, and it’s looking like next year is going to be no easier for him. Lost a father, took the life of a corrupt officer, got all the information he could…yet he still hasn’t gotten any closer to figuring out who was behind the shooting or why it even happened to begin with. Though, if Malcolm is anything, it’s determined to figure out who was behind this and bring them to justice. His own form of justice, anyway.
He spent most of his day in his office, going through files and trying to figure out this whole thing. He stood at his window; lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he looked out to the city of Bludhaven, Malcolm took a draw from his cigarette as he heard footsteps against the steel stairs that lead up to his office door. This either meant two things – one, there was a visitor or two, there was an intruder. As the guards wouldn’t come near his office unless they were switching shifts or bringing someone to him…and it’s not the time for a change in shift.
As Malcolm smoked his cigarette, listening closely to listen to what was going on – he heard the sound of two familiar voices, one of them being his guard. When he heard the commotion over the weapons, he knew he had to step in, he quickly threw the cigarette onto the ashtray and pulled the door open to see his guard and Deathstroke looking as though they were ready to get to each other’s throats. “Joe, please.” The guard lowered his rifle as he looked over to his boss, he nodded his head and took a step back from the assassin.
“Sorry about that, Slade.” Malcolm said, shaking his head, stepping to the side to allow Slade to come inside. “Come on in, bring your weapons if you want, I trust you.”
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Dec 22, 2014 21:17:29 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Dec 22, 2014 21:16:51 GMT -5
Slade entered the office and closed the door behind him, satisfied that the goons wouldn’t make a move. He placed the files carefully down on the desk in the center of the room, opening the document wallet to reveal the contents to his employer. Autopsy reports, photographs of the cadaver, progress reports on the case... Deathstroke knew he’d done more than enough to fulfil his end of the arrangement, now it was a question of whether Fontaine was able to fulfil his.
“These documents were recovered from the coroner’s office at BPD headquarters. The coroner himself was preparing to shred them in order to hide the facts. You were right about the circumstances surrounding the death of your father. Someone out there doesn’t want you, or anyone else, to know the truth.”
The assassin slid the files across the desk to Malcolm, who picked them up and began flipping through pages, obviously eager to find any lead on his father’s murderer.
“I made sure he told me everything he knew before I disposed of him.”
Fontaine looked up from the files and raised an eyebrow at Slade.
“He’s dead. There were three fatalities in total, all unavoidable. You’ll be pleased to hear that two of them were officers. The unsavoury kind. Corrupt.”
Slade was a little taken back as Malcolm cracked a slight smile, clearly pleased by this news. The kid was twisted.
“I set fire to all of the other files, so they won’t realize this one is missing. I left no trace of my presence there. Nothing that can lead them to me... Or you.”
Deathstroke removed his mask, placing it down onto the desk.
“Assuming the autopsy report is accurate, I’ll be able to trace the bullet to a gun, and that gun should lead us to a distributor or possibly the owner themselves. Either way, this is a step in the right direction.”
The assassin looked over at his employer expectantly.
“Did you get anything from Motley?”
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Jan 4, 2015 6:57:21 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2015 6:56:52 GMT -5
“Oh yeah.” Malcolm gave a sly smirk following his response, nodding his head as he riffled through the documents handed to him by Deathstroke. None of these reports were useful to Malcolm, mostly because he had never specialized in anything medical, but he decided to take Slade’s word for it. He threw the papers down on his desk as they scattered across it almost dramatically, he adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, replaying the confrontation with Motley back in his head for about the hundredth time…it started becoming almost impossible to forget every little detail of the entire encounter.
“You’ve taken up a lot of contracts, Slade…you know crime inside and out, you’ve probably taken jobs from just about every mobster who wants someone dead but doesn't want to get their own hands dirty.” Pausing for a moment, Malcolm started to realize he may have sounded like he was accusing Deathstroke of something, so he decided to stop himself and change the pace. “Motley told me who was behind it…well, he didn’t. But he told me who paid him off, which is pretty much the same thing around here.” Malcolm turned his back to Slade, stroking his jawline as he looked out the window yet again, watching as snow slowly fell down to the ground, adding to the pile.
Malcolm quickly turned around. “Alright, I’ll cut the suspense.” He said with a straight face, walking back over to his desk as he rested his hands on it and steadied his arms. “What do you know about The United Front?” The young businessman pulled his chair back, walking around as he sat himself down on it, resting his arms on the desk as he looked up to Slade. “I have been in this business for long enough to know just about every gang and criminal organization there is…but these guys? I haven’t heard of ‘em. I don’t like that. I especially don’t like that they paid off Motley to keep his trap shut…what kinda stuff do they get upto?”
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
Last Edit: Jan 13, 2015 2:37:28 GMT -5 by Deleted
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 13, 2015 2:30:36 GMT -5
Slade was familiar with 'The United Front', and their involvement wasn't too much of a surprise. He knew they carried out hits if the money was right, and the circumstances surrounding the death of the elder Fontaine were certainly odd. The way the authorities attempted to conceal the truth made it obvious that it was more than a simple drive-by. This rabbit hole kept getting deeper and deeper.
"If you did a little digging, you'd probably hear that they're in the same line of work as I am... But that isn't true. They're an organized crime group who've been around for a while in Blüdhaven. Drug pushing, prostitution, contract killings. They're involved in all of it. Thing is, they're nearly invisible. I don't think anyone apart of the group actually killed your father."
Slade flicked through the files once more.
"The ones who committed the murder? They're rookies. Amateurs. Their work is sloppy... I'm assuming that's why they took the drive-by shooting route over something a little 'cleaner'. So why would a gang of two-bit thugs gun down a rich businessman in public?"
Deathstroke grinned, he already knew the answer.
"Someone wanted this to look messy. They wanted it to look like a random act of violence. The United Front likely came up with this plan, got some local thugs involved with the promise of a big pay off, then tied up the loose ends when the hit was done. The men who pulled the trigger are probably already dead. We won't find them, but we can find the one who put the gun in their hands."
The assassin looked up at his employer.
"The United Front orchestrated the hit, but they're not pulling all the strings. Someone paid them off. Someone smart. They went through several channels to ensure no one would discover their identity. Our next course of action should be to track down a member of The United Front and see what they know about your father's murder and the person or people who set this thing up."
Slade ran his fingers along a knife at his belt.
"If they know anything, I'll make them talk."
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2015 2:30:43 GMT -5
“That’s all good, Slade, but…”
Leaning back on his chair, kicking his pricey shoes up onto his desk, Malcolm moves his hands together, intertwining his fingers and moving them up to his head, resting his chin on them. “You said yourself…they’re nearly invisible.” He moves his hands away from each other, giving a small shrug. “Just how do you expect us to find one of them?” Malcolm places his hands back together, leaning forward as his elbows rest on the desk in front of him.
“I could have my guys talk to anyone looking shady who aren’t part of any of the gangs we know about…” Thinking for a second, he continues. “Then again, if these guys are as professional as you say, they probably don’t look shady at all.” He pauses, a million ideas running through his head, none of them sounding good enough to even take the time to say.
Fontaine lets out a groan
“This is going to take a lot more time and effort than I thought…great.”
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2015 7:58:00 GMT -5
"How does one catch a rat, Fontaine?"
Slade pulls out the chair opposite Malcolm's desk and takes a seat.
"With a trap. A baited trap."
The assassin smirks and places his forearms on the desk, leaning forward.
"We still have the advantage here. As far as they know, you're still at square one. They don't know that we've got them in our sights, and they don't know that you've acquired my services to rectify your problem. Yes, they're always cautious, but they wouldn't turn down a business opportunity. A very lucrative business opportunity, in fact."
Slade clasps his hands together, resting them under his chin. He pauses for a moment, contemplating his plan, then continues.
"Have your men put word out on the street that a 'wealthy client' is looking to have someone taken care of. Make sure payment for the job is exceptionally large and remain anonymous, do not let them know your identity. Of course, every scumbag from here to Gotham will want the job, but The United Front won't turn it down. Like I said earlier, they're very careful in the way they operate, so they'll send a spokesperson to get into contact with you. Once that guy shows up, I bag him and find out who sent him to meet with us. As I mentioned, I can be-"
Deathstroke removes his knife and stabs it into the hard wood desk.
"... Persuasive."
He leans back once again, smiling at his employer.
"After he spills the beans, we continue to work through the necessary channels until we find our rat. Then we'll finish this."
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: Mar 28, 2024 11:55:34 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2015 8:14:00 GMT -5
Malcolm’s lips curl into a grin as he listens to the plan Deathstroke comes up with before him, his hands clap together a few times as he nods his head in approval, he gives a small chuckle and tilts his head a bit as he speaks. “I knew I hired the right guy!” the billionaire son of Richard Fontaine reaches forward, grasping Slade’s knife as he tugs it out of his desk, handing it to the renowned assassin before leaning back in his chair. “We have a plan. All we need to do is execute it successfully.”
“One thing about this whole plan, though…” Malcolm strokes his jaw a little bit as his tongue moves along his lips. “…this is all going to take a long, long time.” He sighs. “But what can ya do? As long as it gets done in the end, I’m happy.” The two men stand up, reaching over the desk and exchanging a firm handshake to confirm the plan, Malcolm knows for a fact this is going to be tedious, but he also knows Deathstroke is very experienced with this kind of thing, which puts his mind at ease.
As Deathstroke takes his knife and sheaves it, Malcolm walks him to the door, opening it and allowing him to leave the office. “Thanks a lot, Slade.” He says with a firm nod of the head. “I’ll get my men to set up the whole ordeal and then I’ll get in touch.” Fontaine gives a small smirk. “I think you’ve earned a good nights sleep, I’ll have this all ready by the end of the week.” Letting out a little bit of a whistle and using his index finger to bring one of his men into his office, Malcolm gives a little bit of a wave to the assassin as he leaves the warehouse.
“Alright, Joe. We have a plan, so here’s what I need you to do…”
|
|