Protecting interests *FIN*

[Isaac LeCroix]

Isaac hated beach resorts. There was just something about all that sand that just grated on his cool. Plus beaches always had fat, naked old people that were not pleasing to the eye despite the fact that they were occasionally peppered with tasty morsels of sexy flesh. The houses, too, were obnoxious--all festive pastels and cheap seashell motifs—no matter how tasteful they were done, they were tacky. It was like the world had suddenly condoned poor taste because of a bunch of salty water and some sun.

Still, this was how the general population chose to spend their holidays, and Isaac was expressly interested in one member of that population: Jacob Kirkpatrick. Formerly, he had been the son of an associate of Isaac's. Good kid. Lots of promise. Big gambling addiction. That was the reason for the visit today. The man in the car with Isaac, Sanford Cunnigngham, was another associate of Isaac's who operated the Collective's fighting circuits. A week ago, one of Sanford's staff had caught Jacob attempting to fix a fight—a fight with a nice payoff.

Since Sanford wasn't the talkative type, Isaac had agreed to come along to make sure that the offending dilettante understood the severity of his mistake. People didn't take advantage of the Collective, and visits like this were the reason why. A warning shot across the bow was all they were here for, but people like Isaac shot hard. The only reason they were here at all was because Jacob's father was a valued member of the group. The son was getting a little slack, but principles had been violated, and the principles that people like Isaac followed violated back.

Isaac slowly pulled his black Mercedes through the open gate of the beach house that the young Mr. Kirkpatrick was staying at courtesy of his father, and pulled up in front of the palatial affair. He turned the car off, and exited, not bothering to look at Sanford, who sat in the passenger seat beside him. Pulling a pair of expensive sunglasses out of the breast pocket of his charcoal suit jacket, Isaac donned them, straightened his shirt and jacket, and started up the boardwalk to the house.

A maid, an elderly lady of Puerto Rican decent, showed them into the living room, opening the front door almost before they got there, eying them with barely masked fear and a sort of reverence as she did so. She indicated that the contents of the “refreshment cabinet” were available to them before beating a hasty retreat.

A small, predatory grin flickered on Isaac's lips as he flopped into a large, white armchair to wait. If the boy knew what was good for him, he'd come quickly.

[Sanford Cunningham]

///// Sanford Cunningham

^{miami, florida}
_{chapter one: loyalty}

A time to work and a time to play.

That seemed to be the motto at the moment, at least. Sanford was equally quiet on the ride. Generally, he was a very fun person. He joked a lot, had a sense of humor laced with grit and clout, likely from growing up surviving the streets as he had. He was tough and had been for years, but as much as that held true, he loved to laugh, loved to just chill with people, partake in recreations of various kinds, and just forget the worries of the world.

Not today.

This work, like the work for Randall or the others... it was business, cold and dry. Sanford was the kind of man who took the time to slowly and deliberately prepare his mind for whatever was before him, no matter how fun or serious it was. For something like this, it meant stewing quietly on the injustice that had been done to him. To his ring. To his circuit.

Sure, people had to sometimes cheat to survive, Sanford understood that, but there were concequences to cheating other people and getting caught. Jacob had been caught, and since it had been an offense to Sanford and his ring, who better to get angry about it than him?

In truth, he wasn't entirely feeling it. He was miffed about it, but angry? Not really. Furious? Too much effort better spent relaxing or doing something fun, like breaking some poor fool's jaw. At this notion, he found himself briefly smiling in the ride, but looked quickly to Isaac and shut the smile down.

Serious face.

Na... Sanford began to grin again. What would he be doing if he had to bust this Jacob's teeth out? It would be fun... he'd smile about it. It just felt right.

He remained quiet as he followed Isaac in after the woman who apparently hired on as help to their host. What did he owe the guy? he wondered as he made his way over to the 'refreshment cabinet' and began to pick through it, shoving something in his mouth right away and pulling several more things out to enjoy. He wanted to make it known who owed who, here... okay, perhaps not. He had some killer munchies, that was the truth.

He was prepared for the confrontation though, even if he didn't realize it himself. "Tha fuck..." he looked to Isaac, then up the stairway, "Does this bloke know we're comin'? He gotta get all dressed up?" he grumbled. He wasn't in a patient mood, which meant he wasn't in a pleasant mood.

No matter how you sliced it, this was going to be a bad day for Jacob.

[Isaac LeCroix]

Isaac shrugged nonchalantly in response to Sanford's question, propping his expensive shoes up on the expensive coffee table. Jacob was just making things worse for himself by taking so long to show up, although watching Sanford work him over would be fun.

”Toss me a beer while you're over there,” he said to Sanford, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the door.

After about five minutes, two voices could be heard from upstairs, one male, one female, both sounding worried. Two sets of footsteps descended the stairs hurriedly, and the front door slammed. Isaac had sat up straight at the sound of footsteps, and stood hurriedly as the door slammed. Could this guy honestly be dumb enough to run from them? He cast a sidelong glance at Sanford, waiting to see his response.

The silence was broken by a set of footsteps coming down the hall towards the room they were in, and the door opening, revealing a young man in his early twenties in a white polo shirt and jeans. His shaggy, blond hair was mussed up, his clothes looked like they had been thrown on hurriedly, a look of poorly masked fear was in his eyes, and the remnant of a lipstick mark was on the side of his neck. It seemed that Isaac and Sanford's visit had interrupted Jacob Kirkpatrick in the middle of something. That would explain the wait.

The young man's eyes flickered between Isaac and Sanford, recognition and resigned fear in them as he shut the door behind him. Turning to them, he walked over to a chair and seated himself, affecting a small, fatalistic smile.

”And to what do I owe this visit?” he asked.

Isaac shot a glance at Sanford, giving the man permission to make the first reply to the man's query however he wished.

[Sanford Cunningham]

///// Sanford Cunningham

^{miami, florida}
_{chapter one: loyalty}

Casual indifference seemed to describe Sanford, who took only passing notice of Jacob as he joined them. He could practically smell the fear, but barely seemed to respond at all. He promptly raided the man's refridgerator, pulling two beers out from the bottom shelf and holding them between the fingers of one hand as he took a bite of some cream-filled yellow cake snack held by the other, and made his way back toward Isaac and their most gracious host.

He passed both beers to Isaac, "Open mine, will ya, love?" he smirked, then turned his eyes upon Jacob, fixing on him. He approached him calmly, and took another bite of the snack he held, "Two things..." the rude guest began to talk with his mouth full, which only seemed to enhance his accent, "I fookin' love twinkies." he held the snack up, "Just cream and yellow cake... I mean... what tha hell do they do to it?" he shrugged, "So good..."

Sanford took a moment to finish the cake off, then dropped the wrapper rather carelessly to the man's floor, kicking it to the side with his foot as he licked cream from his fingertips. He caught the curious stare from Jacob as he towered over him in his seated position, licking up cream, and afforded a chuckle.

"Like that, don't ya?" he leaned in a bit. "Gettin' ya dick wet, were ya?" he asked, then shrugged, "Sorry about the interruption."

He took in a deep breath, "Second thing,"

Without warning, the absolutely relaxed fighter flung his fist up from his side, and struck Jacob in the face in a lightning blur of motion, sending a loud snapping sound through the room. He gave the guy a moment to cry out and cup his bleeding nose as he returned to Isaac to collect the beer he'd use to wash down the snack, "What tha fook were you thinkin'?" he shook his head as he asked, not even glancing in Jacob's direction at this point.

He was fairly sure he'd broken his nose with that one. It was pretty satisfying.

[Isaac LeCroix]

Isaac took the beers and twisted off the caps, setting one on the coffee table near Sanford and raising the other to his lips, taking a swig. He settled back into the couch, re propping up his feet on the coffee table and smirking at Sanford's musings on the wonders of twinkies. That boy was a funny one. The odd combination of nonchalance combined with a seemingly infinite capacity for violence was just one of the reasons Isaac liked having Sanford around, and Isaac's smile widened as Sanford expressed his violent side. His companion knew how to spoil a pompous prick's bad day, that was for sure.

Jacob fell out of his seat to the floor, crying out in pain and clutching his face as blood blossomed from his nose and dripped to the carpet. As Sanford returned to his seat, Isaac held out the man's beer for him, keeping his steely gaze on the figure of Jacob on the floor. He stood and walked slowly and calmly around the coffee table and seated himself in the seat that Jacob had vacated only moments ago.

”Y'know, kid,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. ”You really brought this on yourself.”

He took another swig of his beer, looking into Jacob's eyes with false compassion. ”Lemme take a look at that,” he said, gesturing to the man's obviously broken nose. Jacob, fear obvious on his face now, mixed with a more than healthy dose of pain, looked up at Isaac, removing his hands from his face.

”Ooh, looks like you're in bad shape there, kid,” he said, then tenderly, almost kindly pinched the swelling, bloody, and already bruising bridge of Jacob's broken nose between the tips of his thumb and forefinger, lifting slightly so that he could force Jacob to rise to a crouch. ”You should have that,” he twisted his fingers suddenly, eliciting a scream from Jacob, and a quieter crunch from the bridge of the man's nose,”looked at.”

[Sanford Cunningham]

///// Sanford Cunningham

^{miami, florida}
_{chapter one: loyalty}

"Damn..." Sanford took a swig of his beer, smirking casually at the two of them, "His ol' lady's not gonna love that face no more..." he chuckled with a sickeningly playful attitude. It was no doubt utterly menacing, the two of them come to set the record straight for one who thought he could get away with crossing The Collective.

"You know..." he took another swig and shrugged as he took a step closer, "There are places you can stash a body where nobody will ever find it, some places where the body won't even be there for long." he explained, "Lots o' unexplained missin' people out there, y'know? I mean... what's the world comin' to?"

The implications were clear enough as he set his beer down, and cracked his rugged knuckles, "Anyways... we've come to discuss important business 'aven't we?" he shrugged a bit, seeming utterly smug, "So, the business is, friend... you tried to steal from us. Now, I got blokes stealin' from me, so... what do you figure is the best way to make it up to me?" he asked, "I suggest you think fast, too. Me friend here is havin' a bit of fun with ya already..."

[Isaac LeCroix]

Jacob whimpered as Isaac let go of his nose, and he flopped to the floor, gingerly grabbing his face. Isaac gave Sanford a dangerously happy smirk. This was fun. Incredibly fun, and he knew that Sanford saw his enjoyment. This was one of the little pleasures that he enjoyed in life, and he was going to milk this for all it was worth.

Standing, his eyes fell upon a fish tank in the corner of the room, saltwater fish swimming along without a care in the world. Nonchalantly, he walked over to it, rested his arm on it and returned his attention to Jacob, who had picked himself back up off the floor and was now sitting in his seat, gently dabbing blood away from his nose with his hand. The young man had fear in his eyes.

”See, Jake,” Isaac said, drumming his fingers on the top of the fish tank. ”You fucked up, and big time. Now, we're reasonable people...understand the way of things. Taking money isn't the problem here...”

He paused, chuckled, took a sip of his beer and continued.

”Well, actually, it is, but that's not the point. See, we encourage, bright, enterprising young men like you to find their way in the world. Problem is, you did it without our guidance, under our noses, and worst of all, you did it to us even after our people have done so much for your family. We really can't have that.”

He took another sip of his beer, eyes alighting on a yellow tang swimming near where his hand was resting, eying him quizzically.

”We're the big fish in the sea,” he said, tapping the glass, speaking almost consolingly to Jacob. ”See, small fry like you should prey on littler fish. Seriously, you wouldn't expect a minnow to take on a shark? We bite back.”

He gave Jacob a very significant glance and paused, pursing his lips and letting out a low, sonorous whistle. The tang which had been swimming near his hand seemed to quiver for a moment, then exploded into a blossom of red which quickly spread through the surrounding water, tinging the tank a macabre pink.

Jacob jumped out of his seat, face blanching an almost unnatural white, and pressed himself against the wall, tears starting to roll down his face.

”P-p-please don't kill me...” he said, his voice choking from fear.

Isaac merely smiled.

[Sanford Cunningham]

///// Sanford Cunningham

^{miami, florida}
_{chapter one: loyalty}

"No, no... relax..." Sanford waved his hand as he took his turn to approach Jacob. He took another swig of his beer, and finished it off in one heavy pull, tossing the bottle aside. "Not gonna kill ya..." he shrugged, then reached up with his left hand, and took a fist full of Jacob's hair.

The man growled in response and struggled feebly against Sanford's superior grip. In comparison, Sanford's body was much stronger, much more athletic, and Jacob simply didn't have much strength enough to fight him with. Luckily for him, before he could annoy Sanford, he'd been tossed onto the floor between the two of them. "Yeah, ya screwed tha' pooch on that one, but ya get a second chance," he explained.

"Ya played a hand in theft and came up with bollocks, but I'm gonna let you play a different game, see if maybe... you do better, there..." he smirked up at Isaac.

Oh, he had something devious in mind, indeed.

[Isaac LeCroix]

Isaac smirked at Sanford. It was like watching a pair of lions toying with their prey, softening it up before delivering the killing blow. He walked over to the couch, taking a seat on the arm and taking another, longer swig of his beer. Reaching up to his neck, he loosened his tie, then leaned forward, making eye contact with Jacob.

”Yeah, my partner here likes games, and it's usually best if you play along. Ya wouldn't wanna be a spoilsport and a thief, would you?”

He took another swig of his beer then spread his hands disarmingly.

”Besides, I think he's being pretty forgiving, given that you tried to pull a pretty dumb gag, and tried to screw him out of a lot of money, and made him look a bit less competent while doing so.”

Isaac's tone got more threatening, and his eyes flickered from Sanford and then back to Jacob, a dangerous grin playing on his lips then sliding back into deadly seriousness.

”I think you'd better say thank you.”