off to the races

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When outsiders think of NYC, they think Manhattan. After the devastating attacks on the World Trade Center in Manhattan on September 11,2001, the American people defied Al Qaeda's wishes of breaking the American spirit and rallied behind the city of New York, namely Manhattan. In just a few years, in typical American spirit, a new 'Freedom Tower' was built that stood taller than ever and Manhattan still stands at the epicenter of a city that will never lose it's heart. Everything from billionaires on Park Avenue, to Italian mafioso on Mulberry, to the Irish gangs in Hell's Kitchen, to your local street hustler peddling smack in Harlem: Manhattan has it all.
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Ronnie Faust
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off to the races

Post by Ronnie Faust » October 13th, 2017, 5:30 am

It was a rather quiet day at the law firm of Umbridge & Umbridge. Their one floor office space situated in lower Manhattan was half empty due to a company baseball game. It was a perfect time for Ron, and Todd Sweeney right behind him, to meet with Gavin to discuss their buy in of the Yonkers Raceway. It was a long-term project he and his brother had been working towards for a while. Owning a historic landmark like that wouldn't just give a nice return it would add a touch of class and legitimacy to the operation, even if he was just a partial shareholder. Of course there would problems along the way but a Faust always plans for them.

"I want heavy hitters. And they gotta be outsiders too, no one we've worked with before." Ronnie spoke through tokes of his newly lit Cuban cigar as he plunked down in one of Gavin Umbridge's goose-feather chairs. "I'm serious now Todd, heavy, heavy hitters."

His driver, now working more as a secretary, nodded. "Gotcha boss. I got a few people in mind." Todd didn't sit, he stood by his boss holding a leather briefcase he was given back at the Hide Away.

Gavin had gotten used to the Fausts speaking about their business in his presence and while it made him feel uncomfortable, they paid him well enough to not directly say anything about it. "Now Ronald if you would," The seasoned lawyer said sitting behind his oak desk shuffling papers. "I spoke with the owner again, Tim Rooney senior, he still seems rather apprehensive in signing any of the raceway over, he has been the sole owner since 1933. But-" He smiled a devilish smile. "The old fucker signed over fifteen percent of the shares to his son, Tim Rooney junior."

Ronnie raised his eyebrow. "So, you need me to send someone around to the son?"

"No Ronald, I took care of it. I was talking to a few old friends at the court house and guess what?" Gavin's eyes widen. "Scumbag is facing manslaughter after been caught with a OD'd Sudanese hooker, isn't that perfect?" He finished looking through papers, seeming to finally find what he needed and laid it on the table. "I can probably get him off with parole at the most, maybe worth pulling in a favor or two."

Ron turned his head for a moment to look up at Todd with excitement, then back to Umbridge. "Great, so you've approached him with the deal then? How can we move forward?"

"Well that's why I asked for the five hundred thousand today. That plus my legal aid will work as a small deposit on the ten million we'll need for the five percent. The numbers shouldn't matter too much in the long run of things, I mean once the Rooney family is out of the picture full control will still fall to you. From there you do what you do." Gavin leaned back, sliding out a pen from his desk drawer. "And this is that other bit of information you wanted." With a flick of the wrist he circled something off on the paper then slid it over to Ron. "That's the address to one of the employees at the reserve directly handling the gold. Managed to find out a little information on him too. He was picked up a couple of months ago for possession of cocaine but luckily for us he got off and got to keep his job." He checked his watch. "Should be off work right now too."

Todd walked forward to the desk, dropping down the briefcase and picking up the paper. "Want me to give Gerry a call boss?"


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HALF AN HOUR LATER, AS NPC GERHOLD REINHOLDT

Gerry's arm was still pretty busted up but today he'd have to work through the pain. He had received a call from prissy boy Todd Sweeney sending him all the way to Harlem to knock on the door of some junkie in the sweltering heat. It was a crappy little pad built in the attic of a worn down apartment building. As he approached the door he could smell mildew and weed.

"Hello! Anyone home?" Gerry yelled instead of knocked. Although not afraid to literally shove his fist up a man's ass, he didn't want the paint peeled door giving him any diseases. "Hello?" He was impatient, so for good measure he gave a little tap with his knuckle on the rusty handle.

"Coming! Hold on man!" In a minute a man messily dressed in cheap slacks and a dress shirt came and answered. "You the uh- guy? Where's Ak?" His jitteriness and bloodshot eyes were an easy tell of a drug habit.

"Name's Gerhold." The German monster extended his hand to the now dumbfound druggie.

"Cool man, cool." The junkie look around as if he were waiting for something. "Artois, people call me Arty." He pointed up at himself and took a step back allowing Gerry to walk in.

"Nice place you have here." He was lying, it was easily one of the nastiest apartments Gerry had been in for a long time. He couldn't stop looking at all the garbage laid on the floor and the various stains on the mismatched furniture. It didn't stop him from continuing though. "So, Mr. Artois, my employer sent me here today to offer you a very lucrative deal."

Quickly the mood in the room changed. Arty was taken aback now that he understood it wasn't a dealer he had just let in. "Listen man, I don't know what this is but I'm really not-"

"Now now," The brute lower one massive hand into his pocket fishing back out a crisp hundred dollar bill. "Let's just talk, don't need to commit to anything right now." The druggie nodded, snatching the cash before letting Gerry continue. "Now I understand you work at the federal reserve here in the city." Gerry nodded as he spoke manipulating the feeble brained Arty to become more susceptible. "All we need you to do is take notice of certain things at work and write it all down on your lunch and when you get home. Do that and-" Again his hand descended into his pocket, this time pulling out a large wad of cash. "This is all yours, ten thousand dollars. Enough cash to put you in a blizzard." Gerry winked.

Artois eye's widened and his mouth drooled, he had never seen that much cash and his habit was becoming harder to pay for. "Alright man- I can get you whatever you want. Just, just leave some now man."

Gerhold laughed a little at the pathetic man in front of him. "I need to know how many cameras on route from the front door to the main gold vault, how many employees working on any given day and how many armed guards there will be. Better yet, find out police response time too. That should be in some kind of employee papers right?" Taking pity he flipped through the wad of cash, counting out a thousand and handing it to Arty before turning to leave. "And give this place a damn clean or else your coming to meet me next time, yeah?"

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Requests:

Will send grader 500,000 for Tom Rooney Jr, a deposit on a ten million deal for five percent of the Yonkers Raceway.

Will also send 1100 to pay off Arty, worker at the federal reserve in NYC, as part of a promised ten thousand to gather information from around his work place.

Level 3 lawyer to began writing documents for partial ownership of the Yonkers Raceway. *Sorta touched on it but can expand in later posts, but I would like the agreement to have a stipulation that if no remaining Rooney family members are alive to inherit the other 95 percent, it falls to the only other shareholder (me)

Arty to gather all the requested information to be picked up on a later piece.
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Shorty
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Re: off to the races

Post by Shorty » October 14th, 2017, 12:42 pm

Yo man I gotta say your writing has come a long mother fucking way. I remember when you first popped up back in the day. It is truly a pleasure to read your shit. I just want you to write more, so I can get deeper and more lost in the story. But I get it, we all have lives and can't be writing novels and shit. Good job. Send the moneys and make sure you expand on the lawyer as well.

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"KEEP CALM AND CONSULT THE CODEX."

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