Never a dull day.<br/><br/>That was what they had promised him. He didn't need cash. He had enough of it, and he wasn't an extravagant man. Of course, the paychecks that came in on commission were never wasted, always used for the embetterment if this particular human's well-being, but he really hadn't joined them for the money. He would have been able to get much better paychecks for sitting on a man's beach, just supervising his security. He had gotten offers once it became known that he was on the market. But he had no intention of retiring just yet. Maybe in ten years, but now, he was (reasonably) young, still had all of his faculties in check, still the possibility of dying 'honorably' in a fight still ringing in his ears. Action was what he wanted, and action was what he was getting.<br/><br/>He was happy with his job. And yet, damn, if they couldn't give him a day off. Never a dull day, indeed. He hadn't joined to have vacations between jobs, but they might have been nice. Enjoying the money well earned, and spending it well. Not wisely, of course. He chuckled a bit at the thought as he had his coat over his arm, the sleeves of his striped light blue-white shirt pulled up to his elbow, carrying a briefcase. And damn, if he didn't look like a perfect businessman. Except for a few minor details. He didn't need padding to fill out the shoulders of his blazer, his arms pressed at the fabric of his shirt, His stomach in sharp relief of his chest, eyes always flickering and moving, hands tense and ready even as he walked.<br/><br/>He reached into his bag and pulled out a key, car key, moving to the parking  lot, finding the car that he had left here the last time. The agency had paid the bill of his stay beforehand, and so he merely unlocked the door of the silver Taurus, and stepped into the driver seat. He checked his phone again, just to be sure.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Meeting waiting. WRIIl. 15 minutes.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>He was going to be a little late. Nothing to do about that.<br/><br/>He switched the car on, no revving, twisting it around to the exit of the garage, entering the open road less than a minute later, knowing the address of the place that he was headed to by heart already, not needing to consult a map or GPS. He drove safe, always at the speed limit, stopping at every stop sign, red light, crosswalk, as to not grab any attention from law enforcement. More from force of habit than anything else. He arrived 20 minutes later, moving through building, waved through the proper doors until finally, he reached the meeting room. He placed his coat over on of the chairs and sitting, studying the rest of those gathered.<br/><br/>"Forgive me for being late, ladies and gentlemen," He said with a small, icy smile. He knew most of them, by reputation if not by sight. His accent was almost perfect, with only a slight inflection on the vowels.