Terry and Jack sat in wooden deck chairs in the warehouse, drinking beer and throwing the empty cans at the bin. It was a quiet day, the sun shining down on manhattan and heating up the city. The heat and the smell of beer began choking the two, the smell was nauseating and led to Jack rolling up the shutter. "Im tellin yah Terry, fuckin Cameras would be the shit!"
"Yeah man but yah cant hack a mirror."
"Truth boy, truth, we need a lotta shit man, im thinkin, boat on that dock incase five-oh show up."
"Or them clown fuckers yeah. And we need some shit to sell nig, we cant sell no empty boxes!"
Terry looked at the boxes left behind, going over and kicking them. "Empty box- Holy shit Jay, these bitches got shit in em!" Jacks head turned sharply at the announcement, so sharply he risked whiplash.
"What kinda shit?"
"All kinda shit man, im talking vases, plates, my aunts severed head."
"Jay im playin'. Their aint no plates in here."
Jack grinned in response, the reason they got along so well was their similar sense of humour. That and they'd both always been fighters, they fought others, they fought between themselves, but they'd been together so long they'd have to break more than a few of eachothers fingers and noses to actively hate eachother. Maybe it was idiotic minds thinking alike, maybe it was loyalty, eitherway they had eachothers backs.
The two began sifting, box to box, taking dusty silverware and mugs out of the boxes and placing them on shelves behind them. Most of it was pretty much worthless, but it seemed Terrys uncle wasnt the goody two-shoes Jack suspected him to be. A Mac-10. In pretty good shape aswell, and a full clip. You had to wonder why you'd leave such a thing, maybe he didnt feel like tearing through junk just incase something good was in it. It didn't really matter.
"Jay, id like to see someone pull somethin now. Drat! Splat!"
Jack grinned as he drew his M1911 for comparison.
"Yeah T-dog we gon' fuck up thieves like its our bidnis."
The next thing on their agenda now was finding guns to sell. One way was to buy them legitimately and sell them for double, but this led to a trail. Police were bound to ask where the weapons were going. Next was stealing them. A way to maximise profits, but with increased risk. So much risk that Jack didn't want to do that either. The final option was smuggling. Give some foreigner a cut of the profits to bring guns across to America and leave them at a location. No names, no faces. Nothing that could link the two. Just a location and a shopping list. Jack liked that idea, liked it alot.
"T, you know some chink who can smuggle shit?"
"Some foreigner who can smuggle us in guns n shit?"
"What? Why would i- ooo! Man my cousin went into Iraq last year as a merc!"
"The guns there are cheap as shit man, they need people to fight."
"Your cus can mail that shit over?"
"Yeah yeah man, ill ring him up. Hes got his own fishing boat, he can bring that shit across to us and the police wont search his shit."
"And your cus wont mind leavin his warzone?"
"Nah Jay, he gets paid daily, if he aint there he just dont get paid that day, s'long as we're paying him it wont matter all too much."
Terry took out his phone, before Jack spoke up. "Woah woah man what you doin'?!"
"Niggah youre an accomplice, dont use your damn cell. Drive off and use a muv'fuckin pay phone." Terry nodded, it made sense and it gave him an excuse to ride the Harley, he climbed aboard the Harley and caught the keys thrown by Jack. Sticking them in the ignition he rode into the town of Manhattan, gaining some distance from the warehouse before pulling up besides a line of payphones, getting off the bike and heading to one.
"Hey, cus. Yeah man its Tee. Yeah yeah, good Listen..."
It was a long conversation, involving Tee telling his cousin to not use names. They then began the discussion of the weapons.
"You'll do it? Cus, you are the bees shit! Yeah yeah! Leave the first box at where me and you got wasted on my thirteenth, when you come inside we'll give you what, two? Four?! Nah man, how bout three? Three grand? Alright yeah, three grand ill give it ya same place you drop my stuff of but the day after. Next week? Tuesday. Gotit."
Terry announced the good news immediately, the moment he arrived back at the warehouse. From that moment they cleaned out the junk in the warehouse, and got ready to sell their new goods. The next Tuesday Jack showed up at the tenament in which Terry got wasted with his Cousin, the placed was abandoned now, and Jack showed up to find a box with five Ak47s inside. The next day an envelope with three grand was left for the smuggler. It seemed like a seamless system, but Jack knew eventually this plan was going to go downhill. He just had to prepare for when it did.
The only problem with the plan was the walk back to the dock with a wooden box. If someone felt like searching it Jack had his gun on him, and if he was followed back to the warehouse Terry had his Mac-10. They had to buy a van for this journey, but it was all in good time. Until then he had some AK47s to sell.
NPC Terry Pilgrim: Gains Mac-10
NPC Smuggler as Contact
-Due to the distance, he will only deliver once a week.
-As he sells and buys in bulk, the weapons are discounted.
NPC Smuggler brings:
-[x5] Russian made AK47's
[-$3000] The money Jack loaned off Terry