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+--- Thread: Market Surplus (/showthread.php?tid=139010)
Market Surplus - Croft - 05-06-2016
Detroit Munitions
New York
New York
A hard worn Kestrel freighter swooped into the docking bay, chipped and battered, the ship clashed viciously against the well ordered backdrop of Detroit Munitions as it hovered for a moment before gently touching down on the vacant pad. The thrumming engines fell silent as a small stocky man steps out of its scorch marked airlock heading directly to a dock worker.
"Hey buddy I'm looking for Mr Gatz's office, you know where I can find it?" intoned the visitor in a heavy Bronx accent, the dockworker asks if the man has an appointment and what name it would be under "Sure, sure, the name's Fattore, I'm here about a business deal" he replies. A quick call-in confirms the details and Fattore soon finds himself walking through a mixture showroom / museum filled with all manner of weapons and munitions, he stops to admire a rather brutal looking assault rifle before heading further into the station complex.
Several staff give him strange looks, his dark purple shirt and silver jewelery utterly out of place striding through corridors of besuited men and women going about their business. He couldn't blame them, appearances tell everyone exactly what you're here to do and he meant business.
Finally he finds the office of Mr Gatz just on the corner of the fourth corridor, he pulls the collar of his shirt straight, polishes his ring and knocks.
RE: Market Surplus - Petitioner - 05-09-2016
Room 479
Detroit Munitions
Detroit Munitions
"Come in," intones a quiet, tired-sounding voice. Fattore opens the door, revealing a spacious office with subtle patterned rugs covering the stone floor, and innumerable file cabinets lining all the walls. Behind a large, low desk that angles at ninety degrees made of some indeterminate kind of wood, with neatly-stacked papers on the side facing the room's entrance, and six or seven large monitors at the far side. A thin man with brown hair in a dark suit and with darker circles under his eyes sits in a tall-backed swivel chair, and as Fattore enters, the man swivels to face the door, standing up and offering his hand above the desk.
"Mister Fattore, is it?"
"Mister Fattore, is it?"
RE: Market Surplus - Croft - 05-09-2016
Fattore enters the office, closing the door behind him.
"It is, and you must be Mr Gatz."
He steps forward offering a hand, the two men shake hands briefly and break apart.
"I gotta admit I wasn't expecting a full invitation" he says, quickly glancing about the office "most people don't bother much with the old ways, you know face to face meetin's and proper ettiquette. S'all neuralnet this, e-signature that. So few actually give a deal the proper respect it reserves.
You do things properly, I like that."
Fattore flashes a wry smile.
"I take it you know exactly why I'm here?"
RE: Market Surplus - Petitioner - 05-14-2016
Gatz nodded. "I do. Please, sit down."
Gatz gestured at one of the two, smaller, swivel chairs in front of his desk, both bound in black synth leather, as he sat back down himself and cracked his knuckles.
"I understand that you're looking to serve clients who are perhaps a bit harder to reach for Detroit, given that the spotlight of commerce and tax collection is constantly shining on us."
Fattore nodded, and Gatz continued.
"Having been in a similar situation before, I must first commend you for your enterprising spirit. Regardless, I can't commit to any sort of... understanding, with you, before receiving some sort of assurance that, wherever any Detroit products which happen to wind up in your hands go -- which, of course, is something we'd rather not know, if possible -- it won't eventually come around and trip us up from behind, if you catch my meaning.
It only pays to be careful in our business, you see."
His cautionary spiel over, Gatz then leaned back and took a sip of coffee from the large thermos on his desk, awaiting Fattore's response.
RE: Market Surplus - Croft - 05-14-2016
Fattore placed his fingertips together as he listened to Gatz. The vagueness and subtely sounded well practised, there was no direction mention of anything.
A knowning smirk spread across his face as Gatz finished his piece.
"You have my assurance. There are no names as far as I'm concerned, only a buyer and a supplier. It is a simple system, you will receive nothing but payment from me and a word of thanks, no questions no answers.
To you I will be another courier delivering resources and taking away product, everything will be in plain crates and unremarkable. I expect the same in return."
Fattored shifted within his chair.
"No stamps, markings, numbers or names on the merchandise, if theres anything other than paint and I walk away. Does that sound acceptable?"
RE: Market Surplus - Petitioner - 05-14-2016
Gatz was silent for a moment, before taking another sip from his thermos; then, leaning forward again.
"It works for me, Mr. Fattore. Naturally, any sudden, unwanted scrutiny might jeopardize this relationship, but I think we've reached an understanding with each other. I'll have accounting do their thing and account for any minor deficits."
He stood back up and reached his hand across the table again. "Unless there's anything else..?"
RE: Market Surplus - Croft - 05-14-2016
"No I think we have ourselves an understanding."
The two men shake hands briefly and break apart. Fattore gives a small nod and heads to the door.
"It's been a pleasure Mr Gatz, I look forward to making us both very rich men." He adds, exiting the office with another small nod.
A few minutes later Fattore is back in his ship, the engines flare white propelling the Kestrel into space. The autopilot kicks in, dragging the small ship into the tradelane towards Manhattan. In the cockpit, Fattore stretches back into his seat grinning.
"One down, six more to go."