[ Maybe this guy had sussed out the real reason why they couldn't do anything to escape Fraser. He depended on them; he'd die without them, die a thousand times over. But he was their friend; he'd take a bullet for them, and Ray had a still healing wound in his shoulder that said that he'd take one too. God, he missed Fraser. He missed feeling this way about him. This guy still had that. This imposter, who'd come in and stolen his life, and his name, and his Mountie, stolen even the way he felt about him.
And Ray had to sit there and listen to it, get insulted and dismissed, because he was just some mob guy with a bunch of goons who would shoot him dead if they thought it'd get them his job and his money.
Now he wanted to hit Ray. Or cry, maybe. This assignment sucked. He missed Fraser, missed Chicago, missed being a cop more than he could stand, and here was Ray Vecchio to remind him just how much. ]
You're right, I wouldn't know anything about any of that. I haven't had a real friend since I was nine, unless you count dead Presidents.
[ He made it sound like he counted those dead Presidents, but the truth was he didn't. Money was great, but Ray didn't rate it. The job was lonely. Mostly it was lonely because coming out of Vegas with an addiction to coke was a lot kinder to his body than coming out of Vegas with venereal diseases. He'd made his choice.
He tilted his head toward the window as they turned and changed speed and direction. They were pulling out of the worst of the traffic now, heading down through the long, winding roads that led down to the oasis where the millionaires lived. They turned again, drove into darkness, and came to a halt in the cool underground garage of his home. There was a grind of electrics as the gate doors came rolling down, and when they stopped with a clunk, Armando finally moved, shifting forward and patting Ray on the knee. ]
Let's continue this conversation inside, shall we?
[ He left him where he was, stepping out of the door when it was opened for him and tossing his key to the driver. A second car had pulled in beside them, full of curious men, and Armando stopped to pat one of the younger ones on the shoulder before speaking to a man closer to his age. ]
I need three hours. Then send Nicci back to pick him up, and Si--bounce me in a couple of clean up guys. He's a cop, I'm not going to kill him, but you know how it is, things might get out of hand. It's been a while since I got to have any real fun, and with all this stress going around recently... Well, you know how it is. I figure I may at least enjoy myself.
[ He tilted his head back over his shoulder, smirked dangerously back through the doorway into the car. His driver had climbed in to unlock Ray's handcuffs, and Armando took a step away as space was made for his replacement to get out of the limousine. ]
Come on then, Raymondo. Let's take a walk. See you later, Si. Right this way.
no subject
And Ray had to sit there and listen to it, get insulted and dismissed, because he was just some mob guy with a bunch of goons who would shoot him dead if they thought it'd get them his job and his money.
Now he wanted to hit Ray. Or cry, maybe. This assignment sucked. He missed Fraser, missed Chicago, missed being a cop more than he could stand, and here was Ray Vecchio to remind him just how much. ]
You're right, I wouldn't know anything about any of that. I haven't had a real friend since I was nine, unless you count dead Presidents.
[ He made it sound like he counted those dead Presidents, but the truth was he didn't. Money was great, but Ray didn't rate it. The job was lonely. Mostly it was lonely because coming out of Vegas with an addiction to coke was a lot kinder to his body than coming out of Vegas with venereal diseases. He'd made his choice.
He tilted his head toward the window as they turned and changed speed and direction. They were pulling out of the worst of the traffic now, heading down through the long, winding roads that led down to the oasis where the millionaires lived. They turned again, drove into darkness, and came to a halt in the cool underground garage of his home. There was a grind of electrics as the gate doors came rolling down, and when they stopped with a clunk, Armando finally moved, shifting forward and patting Ray on the knee. ]
Let's continue this conversation inside, shall we?
[ He left him where he was, stepping out of the door when it was opened for him and tossing his key to the driver. A second car had pulled in beside them, full of curious men, and Armando stopped to pat one of the younger ones on the shoulder before speaking to a man closer to his age. ]
I need three hours. Then send Nicci back to pick him up, and Si--bounce me in a couple of clean up guys. He's a cop, I'm not going to kill him, but you know how it is, things might get out of hand. It's been a while since I got to have any real fun, and with all this stress going around recently... Well, you know how it is. I figure I may at least enjoy myself.
[ He tilted his head back over his shoulder, smirked dangerously back through the doorway into the car. His driver had climbed in to unlock Ray's handcuffs, and Armando took a step away as space was made for his replacement to get out of the limousine. ]
Come on then, Raymondo. Let's take a walk. See you later, Si. Right this way.