"...about that article you wrote."
Rennault office was large and richly furnished. The walls were lined with different items produced by Reserve XI, weapons mostly. The northern wall wasn't a wall at all, but one large window that spanned from the west end of the room, to the east wall. Set in the center of the room was a single, large desk with three computers and monitors set to the right side, a phone beside them, and a laptop generally set to the right. In the center of the ebony wood desk was a screen, set into the wood itself.
Beside the screen sat the latest edition of the Rhy"Din Post, which was currently opened to an article titled: Reserve XI: The Truest Characters of Ignorance. Rennault Ra'al sat in the leather chair behind the desk, fingers drumming lightly against the picture of Darien Fenner while his other hand tapped the screen set into the center of his desk. He was currently searching the database for a certain phone number.
Finally finding the number he was looking for, Rennault double tapped the name on the touch-sensitive display screen, and then picked up his phone. He heard a brief dial tone before the sound of numbers being dialed followed. As the phone rang, he pulled the paper to the side to sit in front of him. Finally, someone answered.
"Hello?"
"David" It's Rennault."
"Oh, Mr. Ra'al. Hello, how can I help you?" Asked David.
"I have a problem that needs taking care of."
"Problems are my forte, Mr. Ra'al."
"This problem's name is Darien Fenner. Heard of him?"
"The guy who writes for the Post?"
"Yes. That's the one."
"I read the article. How soon do you want it done?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Kind of sudden, isn't it?"
"Children don't learn if they aren't reprimanded quickly."
"Understood. I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, David. Say hello to the wife for me." "Goodnight, Mr. Ra'al."
"Goodnight, David." Rennault hung up and put the phone back down, then leaned back and read over the article once again.
He left his office a few minutes later, taking the elevator down to the lobby of Reserve XI's Rhy"Din building. Outside, his car was already waiting for him, with George, his driver holding the door open.
"Good evening, isn't it, Mr. Ra'al?" George asked while the executive of Reserve XI slipped into the back seat of the vehicle.
"Indeed it is, George." Rennault replied just before his driver closed the door and walked around to slip into the driver's seat.
"Will we be visiting Ms. Sokol this evening?" George asked as he pulled the seat belt across his chest and buckled it.
"Not tonight, George. Just home for me."
"Yes, Mr. Ra'al."
And then George drove Rennaultl to his apartment, where the executive got out, enjoyed a glass of scotch, and went to bed. He was eased by the knowledge that David, a very competent hitman would be rigging up a way to dispatch of Darien Fenner.
Rennault office was large and richly furnished. The walls were lined with different items produced by Reserve XI, weapons mostly. The northern wall wasn't a wall at all, but one large window that spanned from the west end of the room, to the east wall. Set in the center of the room was a single, large desk with three computers and monitors set to the right side, a phone beside them, and a laptop generally set to the right. In the center of the ebony wood desk was a screen, set into the wood itself.
Beside the screen sat the latest edition of the Rhy"Din Post, which was currently opened to an article titled: Reserve XI: The Truest Characters of Ignorance. Rennault Ra'al sat in the leather chair behind the desk, fingers drumming lightly against the picture of Darien Fenner while his other hand tapped the screen set into the center of his desk. He was currently searching the database for a certain phone number.
Finally finding the number he was looking for, Rennault double tapped the name on the touch-sensitive display screen, and then picked up his phone. He heard a brief dial tone before the sound of numbers being dialed followed. As the phone rang, he pulled the paper to the side to sit in front of him. Finally, someone answered.
"Hello?"
"David" It's Rennault."
"Oh, Mr. Ra'al. Hello, how can I help you?" Asked David.
"I have a problem that needs taking care of."
"Problems are my forte, Mr. Ra'al."
"This problem's name is Darien Fenner. Heard of him?"
"The guy who writes for the Post?"
"Yes. That's the one."
"I read the article. How soon do you want it done?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Kind of sudden, isn't it?"
"Children don't learn if they aren't reprimanded quickly."
"Understood. I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, David. Say hello to the wife for me." "Goodnight, Mr. Ra'al."
"Goodnight, David." Rennault hung up and put the phone back down, then leaned back and read over the article once again.
He left his office a few minutes later, taking the elevator down to the lobby of Reserve XI's Rhy"Din building. Outside, his car was already waiting for him, with George, his driver holding the door open.
"Good evening, isn't it, Mr. Ra'al?" George asked while the executive of Reserve XI slipped into the back seat of the vehicle.
"Indeed it is, George." Rennault replied just before his driver closed the door and walked around to slip into the driver's seat.
"Will we be visiting Ms. Sokol this evening?" George asked as he pulled the seat belt across his chest and buckled it.
"Not tonight, George. Just home for me."
"Yes, Mr. Ra'al."
And then George drove Rennaultl to his apartment, where the executive got out, enjoyed a glass of scotch, and went to bed. He was eased by the knowledge that David, a very competent hitman would be rigging up a way to dispatch of Darien Fenner.