On a small, dusty dirt road in suburban China a small dated truck hurtled down the road. By all appearances, the rickety pickup truck was a piece of junk. Its red paint had faded away years ago, and the rust that now took its place made it look more brown than anything. Coupled with the sputtering engine and the plume of black smoke that trailed it, and you would think that its owner would have sold it for scrap years ago. Judging from the look on its three passengers in the cab, they most likely were contemplating such a move right now.
The driver was a man in his late 50s, and his salt and pepper hair was accented by the simple black baseball cap that sat upon it. While his button down shirt and chinos gave the impression of a traveling tourist, his cold demeanor seemed to suggest otherwise. "And you had the nerve to use my real name back in the car. What if there was a bug in there? Whatever happened to using our cover names, 'Vitaly'?" The driver cast a hard glare at the passenger sitting next to him. She was a woman in her late 30s, but if you were to simply look at her you would had never guessed. With her tight frame, youthful face, and long auburn hair, she looked to be a young beauty out for a little international fun. It certainly didn't hurt that her casual roll neck blouse accentuated some of her best features. "Well what can I say 'Hans', perhaps I was aggravated that our supposed expert negotiator had come close to blowing his cover. Again. At this rate, 'Andrei' might be better suited for this than you." She forked a finger at the passenger who occupied the window seat to her right.
'Hans' exuded an aged yet calculated intelligence, and 'Vitaly' carried herself with an apparent grace and finesse, but 'Andrei' just looked intimidating. The man was only in his early 30s, but with his large frame, shaved head, and hard facial features he looked like the kind of guy who had ended more lives than he could count. Even though he was dressed in a light flannel shirt and shorts, it did little to diminish the effect. "Will you two just stop bickering over this already? We completed the job, and no one is the wiser. Yeah, Charles fucked up. Who gives a shit, we still covered for him. Just drop it already Vanessa." At this, Vanessa threw her hands up in the air and turned her glare to him. "I'm sorry Tybalt, but I didn't join up to murder anyone who looked at me funny. I mean, gunning down Triad members is one thing, but murdering some mercenaries simply because you were sloppy? That's low, even by my standards."
At this Hans turned back to face her. "Enough! It's hard enough to drive this piece of junk without you preaching to us!" Vanessa returned a glare to Charles, but she remained a silent for a moment before continuing. "Fine. I won't preach. But on that note, why are we riding in this... thing? The Mercedes was much nicer than this." The engine stalled for a brief second before starting up again, as if to affirm Vanessa's statement. "Because that was tied to Hans Greschler, and with him dead we can't risk using any of his possessions. The last thing we need is some stupid beat cop to notice that we're driving the car of a dead man." Vanessa simply rolled her eyes and began muttering to herself, but she was denied even privately venting her muted apprehensions. Tybalt gently shoved her in the shoulder, saying, "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't bottle it up; it's unhealthy."
Her eyes gently drifted to Tybalt and a small smile crossed her face. "You know, sometimes I forget that there's a man buried under all that brawn. Fine. I'm just... oh, what's the word... aggravated that we have to keep literally killing most of our progress. I mean, back in St. Petersburg we took over that other weapons dealer... Grigori was his name, right? Small player, but he was a dead ringer look alike for Hans and it was easy to pass him off as the real Hans to the Red Mafia. Then when our 'expert' negotiator flubbed a few key facts during the deal, kill happy Charles here made us kill off all of Grigori's henchmen and the Red Mafia contact which, I don't need to remind you, lead to the death of Grigori. All in the name of 'no loose ends'. Then we had to spend weeks tracking down the real Hans so that the plan can continue. Now he's dead too, and we still have one more piece to complete. If we had just accepted that nothing goes according to plan, we could have been done with the entire op and be lounging on some Caribbean beach right now!"
Tybalt arched an eyebrow at Vanessa after her tirade, and simply inquired, "Done?" Vanessa took a few breaths, then broke into a full smile before responding. "Yes. And thank you, I do feel much better now." Tybalt simply shrugged returned to looking out the window while Charles responded to Vanessa's concerns. "You know that Grigori's death was not part of the plan. But when a plan revolves around secrecy, even the slightest ounce of truth can tear it asunder. We couldn't risk word of a fake Hans getting out, especially not to Wei or Myon, or else we'd be even worse off than we are now. The Red Mafia has the dust now, as does the Triad; who cares if some nobodies had to die along the way. Besides, we're only a few days drive from the border. One more job, then a quick trip back to China and we're home free. This will be simple, Hans or no Hans, fake or otherwise."
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