Name: Cal Cassel<br/><br/>Location / Time: Black van, December 20th, 6:30am.<br/><br/>Tagging: Shaun, Deke.<br/><br/>Wearing: Black boots, blue jeans, black t-shirt, black leather jacket.<br/><br/>“Fuck, it’s cold!” Cal muttered to himself as he stood outside inhaling a cigarette, standing tight to the van trying to remain as hidden as possible. Lacking both the army hardened stoicism of Deke and the intellectual focus of Shaun, he’d grown increasingly impatient and frustrated with the time it was taking Shaun to type whatever the fuck he was typing into his pile of laptops, and had jumped out the back door to clear his head. Compared to the oppressive heat and pent-up violent energy within the tight confines of the van, the pre-dawn winter air felt like refreshing tonic against Cal’s skin. For a few seconds at least. The thin leather jacket he’d hastily thrown on after waking up late this morning provided little protection against the chilly December air and Cal huddled with his arms folded tightly as he sucked deeply on the smoke. “Who the hell wakes up this early?”<br/><br/>Looking around at the stately houses adorned with their joyful Christmas decorations Cal saw a neighborhood similar to the one he’d grown up in. Hell, he’d probably unknowingly fucked a few girls who lived in this neighborhood at some party back in his high school days. Another lifetime ago, Cal thought to himself. Back when he almost believed in all this shit. Before he’d spiraled in to failure and raised an emphatic middle finger to it all. Now he could feel only rage towards the bourgeois-materialistic-happy-family-praise-jesus-facebook-posting fucking basics who looked the other way or quickly jerked their kids in another direction whenever he happened to bump in to them around town.<br/><br/>He knew Shaun must be hating him for standing out here where he could be seen. Not wanting to lose his respect, Cal threw down the cigarette and quietly climbed back in the van. He nodded silently to Deke, trying to conceal any hint of the unease and fear he felt in the presence of the biker. Instead he focused on a mental image of the hulking criminal sitting across from him ruthlessly fucking some helpless soccer mom, a trace of a smile forming on his face and cock beginning to swell in his jeans.<br/><br/>"How's it looking, Shaun?" he asked.