Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-09-15 11:49 pm
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-09-15 11:49 pm
[BCM] Murder
[Related to THIS.]
She’s not in the business of killing people.
She may provide the means, but she wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. That was how she kept her conscience clear, knowing what the wares she sold did to people in the end, and yet continuing to sell them anyway. She had resigned to the fact that these were just sad, uncomfortable twists of fate, and that she just happened to have a small, indistinguishable hand in their passing. She washed her hands of in it in the end, however—she was just providing an item, what they did after it was there business. If that item just happened to kill someone, well, that couldn’t have been her fault now, could it?
She really didn’t get many calls for those kinds of objects anyway. They only came in on occasion. Aakash Karadesh, however, had lately became a bit too much of a regular customer for her taste. She knew the business he was in, and that business kept her in a very comfortable lifestyle as well, but it seemed as though every other item he asked her to collect for him was some kind of death omen, and she was starting to run out of excuses before having them start to cloud her conscience again.
Julian Sark, however, was in the death business.
She highly doubted that Karadesh would want to hire an assassin every time he had something to clean up, but if Julian wanted to take the job, then he was more than welcome to have it. It was one less death that she would have to consciously wash her hands of, as she wouldn’t be involved beyond the initial meeting, which was better than even just stealing something that could possibly be used.
Karadesh was a well-off man of good standing who ruled over his underground network with a more subtle version of an iron fist. He was imposing and intimidating, the kind of person who permanently removed everyone who got in his way, but somehow he still managed to come off as an average business man. Bela both loved and loathed working for Karadesh and other men like him, as the money was good—fantastic, if she was to be more precise—however she had a feeling that failure, regardless of the circumstances, was not an option.
“I’ve heard of this man, Julian Sark, Stella,” he spoke, his voice disconcertingly calm for a man who was looking to kill someone. “I hear he is very good at his job.”
“Extremely,” Bela nodded, placing her phone on speaker as she moved about her London apartment. “And very professional.”
“There’s a reason I don’t kill people outright,” he said, the same level tone he had been using throughout the conversation. “If someone is murdered, there will be an investigation. Questions will be asked as to who may have wanted this man dead. I cannot afford questions at this particular moment in time.”
“Really Mr. Karadesh, he was just picked up with members of a completely separate organization. You said yourself that no one but him knew he was playing both sides. Those in charge will most likely assume that he was killed by his fellow terrorists, and no suspicion will be cast on you.”
“And this extremely efficient, very professional assassin happened to fall into your lap the day I called you to request your help?” There was a long pause as Bela tried to figure out how to respond to that, but he cut her off before she could say anything. “I don’t believe in coincidences, Stella. I don’t like it when I’m thrown a curveball.”
“He’s just looking for work,” she sighed. “I promise. He’s looking to perform a service for you—all you have to do is meet with him.”
There was another long paus before he spoke up again, “Can you come to Kashmir soon?”
Bela startled slightly at the question, not expecting that kind of request from him. “Me?”
“I want to treat this as I would any other one of our business dealings. He wants the job, you want him to have the job, you deliver him to me.”
She paused for a moment, thinking this over, before responding. “I can catch the red eye tomorrow night.”
“Good. We shall meet in two days. Tell Mr. Sark I send my regards.”
“I will,” she said with a sigh as she heard the click! of the phone hanging up. She was fairly uncomfortable with the idea of going to the meeting itself, but she didn’t really see herself as having much of a choice.
She turned the phone to face her, and quickly went through her contacts to find the number she was looking for. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible. She dialed Julian’s number, before going back to making her tea as she listened to it ring, hoping that he was available in the next few days. Otherwise she would have a lot of explaining to do.
838 words
RP for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elementof_risk
She’s not in the business of killing people.
She may provide the means, but she wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. That was how she kept her conscience clear, knowing what the wares she sold did to people in the end, and yet continuing to sell them anyway. She had resigned to the fact that these were just sad, uncomfortable twists of fate, and that she just happened to have a small, indistinguishable hand in their passing. She washed her hands of in it in the end, however—she was just providing an item, what they did after it was there business. If that item just happened to kill someone, well, that couldn’t have been her fault now, could it?
She really didn’t get many calls for those kinds of objects anyway. They only came in on occasion. Aakash Karadesh, however, had lately became a bit too much of a regular customer for her taste. She knew the business he was in, and that business kept her in a very comfortable lifestyle as well, but it seemed as though every other item he asked her to collect for him was some kind of death omen, and she was starting to run out of excuses before having them start to cloud her conscience again.
Julian Sark, however, was in the death business.
She highly doubted that Karadesh would want to hire an assassin every time he had something to clean up, but if Julian wanted to take the job, then he was more than welcome to have it. It was one less death that she would have to consciously wash her hands of, as she wouldn’t be involved beyond the initial meeting, which was better than even just stealing something that could possibly be used.
Karadesh was a well-off man of good standing who ruled over his underground network with a more subtle version of an iron fist. He was imposing and intimidating, the kind of person who permanently removed everyone who got in his way, but somehow he still managed to come off as an average business man. Bela both loved and loathed working for Karadesh and other men like him, as the money was good—fantastic, if she was to be more precise—however she had a feeling that failure, regardless of the circumstances, was not an option.
“I’ve heard of this man, Julian Sark, Stella,” he spoke, his voice disconcertingly calm for a man who was looking to kill someone. “I hear he is very good at his job.”
“Extremely,” Bela nodded, placing her phone on speaker as she moved about her London apartment. “And very professional.”
“There’s a reason I don’t kill people outright,” he said, the same level tone he had been using throughout the conversation. “If someone is murdered, there will be an investigation. Questions will be asked as to who may have wanted this man dead. I cannot afford questions at this particular moment in time.”
“Really Mr. Karadesh, he was just picked up with members of a completely separate organization. You said yourself that no one but him knew he was playing both sides. Those in charge will most likely assume that he was killed by his fellow terrorists, and no suspicion will be cast on you.”
“And this extremely efficient, very professional assassin happened to fall into your lap the day I called you to request your help?” There was a long pause as Bela tried to figure out how to respond to that, but he cut her off before she could say anything. “I don’t believe in coincidences, Stella. I don’t like it when I’m thrown a curveball.”
“He’s just looking for work,” she sighed. “I promise. He’s looking to perform a service for you—all you have to do is meet with him.”
There was another long paus before he spoke up again, “Can you come to Kashmir soon?”
Bela startled slightly at the question, not expecting that kind of request from him. “Me?”
“I want to treat this as I would any other one of our business dealings. He wants the job, you want him to have the job, you deliver him to me.”
She paused for a moment, thinking this over, before responding. “I can catch the red eye tomorrow night.”
“Good. We shall meet in two days. Tell Mr. Sark I send my regards.”
“I will,” she said with a sigh as she heard the click! of the phone hanging up. She was fairly uncomfortable with the idea of going to the meeting itself, but she didn’t really see herself as having much of a choice.
She turned the phone to face her, and quickly went through her contacts to find the number she was looking for. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible. She dialed Julian’s number, before going back to making her tea as she listened to it ring, hoping that he was available in the next few days. Otherwise she would have a lot of explaining to do.
838 words
RP for
elementof_risk
no subject
This, from what Bela had described, seemed far more up his alley, and he needed to do something up his alley before he went mad.
"Sark, here," he answered, trying not to sound breathless and eager.
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She also knew that his request for a job could have been a heat of the moment kind of acceptance, and she didn't want to push her luck. Regardless, she would treat the conversation as though it was that for a job until there was a time that it wasn't. That seemed the easiest for both parties involved.
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He didn't actually fly out of Vegas that often.
"You have the meeting set up?"
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She paused for a moment, shifting to bring the phone closer as she found the website she was looking for. "He insists that I come to the meeting as well -- he's slightly wary of new people, especially those that come with your reputation."
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"I generally stay at the Hotel Broadway. Shall you give me a call when you get in, and I can meet you there or wherever works best for you?" He had a thought. "Or, actually, if you can get to Vegas, I can wait and we can fly together. The jet is far more comfortable for long flights than commercial."
no subject
Besides, she wasn't so worried about comfort -- she always flew first class.
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"That sounds good, then," Sark said with a slight smile. "I shall see you there."
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