EM http://i33.tinypic.com/242an40.jpg
John arrives at the agreed upon location five minute early. He likes to be early because most people are late. It gives him time to check things out and make sure it's all on the level. As on the level as meetings like this can be. He's leaning against a fence, looking a little bored, when really he's completely alert. John is nobodies victim. If someone tries something shifty with him they will be the one who regrets it.
Two guys arrive five minutes after the agreed upon time. One has his gun casually displayed in a way that makes it obvious that there is nothing casual about it. John resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows they underestimate him. He's just some punk kid. Some mutie playing at badass who no longer has the Brotherhood behind him. Yeah, he knows exactly what they're thinking. What they're telling themselves as they get a little closer to the freak kid that scares them so much they have to show they are armed.
He really has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
"You're sure no one will be able to trace it as arson?" The guy without the gun asks. He's nervous. Sweat is rolling across his face.
"Yep."
"When can you get it done?" He asks, as he looks over at his friend with the gun.
"When can you pay me?"
"Now."
The money is taken out of his jacket pocket, and John hopes it's not soaked with sweat. It's not. He doesn't count it. He knows it's either there, or it's not. If it's not all there he'll set more than the agreed upon building on fire. "You'll get a call tomorrow night letting you know your building's on fire."
He waits for them to leave first before he disappears into the shadows. It's not the kind of work he expected to do, but it allows him to be on his own. Right now that means more than having pride in his work.
Two guys arrive five minutes after the agreed upon time. One has his gun casually displayed in a way that makes it obvious that there is nothing casual about it. John resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows they underestimate him. He's just some punk kid. Some mutie playing at badass who no longer has the Brotherhood behind him. Yeah, he knows exactly what they're thinking. What they're telling themselves as they get a little closer to the freak kid that scares them so much they have to show they are armed.
He really has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.
"You're sure no one will be able to trace it as arson?" The guy without the gun asks. He's nervous. Sweat is rolling across his face.
"Yep."
"When can you get it done?" He asks, as he looks over at his friend with the gun.
"When can you pay me?"
"Now."
The money is taken out of his jacket pocket, and John hopes it's not soaked with sweat. It's not. He doesn't count it. He knows it's either there, or it's not. If it's not all there he'll set more than the agreed upon building on fire. "You'll get a call tomorrow night letting you know your building's on fire."
He waits for them to leave first before he disappears into the shadows. It's not the kind of work he expected to do, but it allows him to be on his own. Right now that means more than having pride in his work.