<div class="floatleft">(https://iammanchic.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/jeff4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Jason Aaron Vandel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12382263#msg12382263)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>Albany, NY | August 9, 2017 | Evening<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Closed, Colette<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Being surprised.<br/><hr/>“I'd, uh... Introduce myself,” He started as he reached out with a hand and taking hers for a little shake, “But it seems you already know my name Colette,”<br/><br/>This whole thing wasn't sitting particularly well with him. A mysterious stranger sending him a briefcase by personal courier? It couldn't be one of his clients, at least he didn't think it could be. His eyes narrowed, he scanned her from head to toe. This could have been his past catching up to him. Somehow one of the cartels could have found him, tracked him down and was going to tie up an age old loose end. Not that he felt like he warranted the attention, but they liked to keep long grudges. After a moment of contemplation he determined that it was better to know then to turn her away. Not in the house though, if this was a bomb of some kind then he wanted to be somewhere that was his.<br/><br/>Jason stepped outside with her and shut the door behind himself. “Let's go over to my garage.” He gestured with his head and set off the porch, and out into the expansive front yard. “So you were hired by a stranger to deliver a package to a stranger, in a country that you haven't been to in years huh?” He mused, just sort of replaying through the information to make sure he had gotten it all. “Do you make a habit of doing things like this?” He inquired, turning his head and raising a brow at her.<br/><br/>The travel from front door to this garage wasn't terribly far – not even five minutes distance. They rounded the corner of the house and there was another, separate, building that had all the lights turned off. He lead her to the side door and pushed it open, flipping the switch near the door on to illuminate the inside. It wasn't a car garage – which was likely evident by the lack of driveway leading to it – but rather some sort of work space. It almost looked like a smithy, except lining shelves along the walls were beautifully crafted glass trinkets, baubles and figures. Near the back half of the single room building there was a large table that was mostly clear. “Set it there,” He gestured, offering her the way first.