@red_bird: "Since when did you start dipping your toes in the arms business? Its admittedly less attractive then the high profile assassination, no?" leaning back propping his finger along his chin with contemplation. "F$cking Cossacks.....I hate em." he racially joked. But in truth they both understood the devious nature of a Russians arms dealer. "You know I've always got your back, but this.....this seems unnecessarily risky and the profit cant be much more then a yard a piece, if that."
"You're certainly one to judge, old friend. You're right...arms dealing is certainly less...what's the word...distingué...bon. J'aime un bon massacre...but sometimes l'argent parle..." He said as he ran his free hand against the roughness of his face.Francois hadn't changed much physically since he and Quintus last met. His hazel eyes were the same, only today his skin was a bit darker as though he had been spending some time in the sun. He wore a pair of black Diesel jeans, black boots and a plain white t-shirt. His motorcycle helmet rested on the ground against the chair next to him.
"And that's the case here. The total delivery would bring us in the $30 million range. Split that in two and it leaves you with $15. Euros, not dollars. Russia's trying to start World War III. You know how these politicians are...You used to be one. Bon, the point is that wars are good for struggling economies, and if Syria wants to buy WMD's then you do the math."
Log in to comment