"Say what they will about my work, I am a gentlemen, I treat my associates with respect." He spoke as he pressed down on the accelerator. What he had said was a lie. Moros never had a code of practice when dealing with new allies. Months ago he had been in negotiations with the leader of a Russian terrorist organisation, he hadn't shown them respect. He had laughed at their plans and their mannerisms and called them; vodka swilling monkey men. This air of politeness was simply how he wished to appear to the women, he wanted them to be comfortable in his presence.<br/><br/>"Tell me Trinity, why do you kill?" Moros asked as he looked at the young woman in the passenger seat beside him, "Does the human race irritate you so much? Or do you have a more powerful and tragic reason to want to spill everyones blood?".