Contract: Drug Wars

[Benzo]

The pilot, a somewhat larger man with oak-colored hair looks back at you with a slight chuckle. "I would have figured it to be real." he said with a shrug. "I honestly doubt anyone this far south even knows who we are. You'll be golden." he adds, cautiously pulling the helicopter up from the ground as you got yourself seated. "We have an approximately forty seven minute flight before we are within landing distance of the compound." he then says, looking back after stabilizing the decently sized helicopter to point at a metal hatch behind you. "Your ride is back there; We'll have to get 'er from the back after landing."

[Bannanachair]

"Alright. I presume that, given that we know the location of this area, you or someone else has done some preliminary scouting of at least the outskirts of the area?"

[Benzo]

The pilot gives a quick nod without looking back. "Seems like a small village, if you want to be kind enough to call it that. Maybe a dozen or so housing buildings with a larger, fortified structure at the easternmost side of the area. The village is exposed, but a decent wall and gate separates it from the primary complex. Not too many guards, but there are some. Assault rifles, it was reported."

[Bannanachair]

"What's the wall made of?" I ask, secretly hoping that it's an easily climb-able fence with no barbed wire up top, but knowing that to be highly unlikely.

[Benzo]

"Sandstone of sorts." he says simply. "Not in the best of shape, but still able to serve, it seems like."

[Bannanachair]

"Alright. You know, I've always wondered how the hire you transportation guys - Do they reach out to you like how they recruited me, or did you have to go through a job interview thing?" I ask, attempting to pass the time with some idle conversation. My phone should be nearly dead by now and I want to save the battery for the return journey, so smalltalk it is.

[Benzo]

The pilot shrugged simply at the question. "Flew with the military for a while, until they deemed that I was no longer fit to serve. Preferring not to become just another hungry veteran, I had no question when I was approached by an AGE recruited asking about my time over seas and my willingness to fly again."

[Bannanachair]

"Understandable enough. I myself found out about AGE through my father, a now-retired former AGE member who was himself requested to join after he got back from Vietnam in the '70s, but just about every single other AGE member I've met has been recruited by a recruiter, not some old guy who was a member forty years ago."

(I'll edit this if you don't think that AGE should have existed during the cold war era things, but if you're okay with this then I'll keep it up.)

[Benzo]

The pilot snickers softly to himself as he kept his eyes on the dull sky. "Must have been a crazy son of a bitch to get his son into this game."

[Bannanachair]

"He was good enough to simply retire rather than die or get seriously injured in the field. With the sheer number of high-risk situations we get ourselves in, he's damn lucky. I'm somewhat surprised that he didn't get himself into a management position at AGE, but honestly, I don't even know the names of my own bosses, so he easily could be one of 'em."

[Benzo]

The pilot nods again in agreement with you. "Aye, but they pamper us and throw commas into our pay so that we don't ask the wrong questions, I suppose." After a short pause, he leans forward before looking down at some controls in his vicinity. "We'll land over there." he says with a slight point. "Prepare yourself for landing; Feet on the ground in five minutes."

[Bannanachair]

"Assuming nothing goes wrong, I'll see you in a few hours."

Once we land, I get to the dirt-bike and head to the town. I'll want to leave my transport out of site of the villagers, but preferably within a half mile of the village for a quick escape if need be. After that, I'll walk until I arrive within the city limits of the compound.

(Do you like the ideas I sent you?)

[Benzo]

(Aye, very helpful and I once again must thank you for them. I have yet to post any because, well, I already am struggling with activity; Juggling more than three active contracts would probably be a nightmare.)

The pilot turns off the helicopter and assists you with dismounting the dirt-bike in back. Before you ride off, he points you in the right direction and says to you, "I hear the Sinaloa have pretty good stuff. Grab me any pocket-sized package of green and I'll pay you accordingly." he then offers with a smirk and a shrug as you ride off.
Approaching the village after a short drive, followed by an even shorter walk, you find a handful of ramshackle buildings dotting what must pass as a street leading up to a small fortified structure. The various sounds of children's laughter, animals and people alike can be heard as you approach and, while studying the walls, you are able to spot no more than a few guards dotting them.

[Bannanachair]

(Do you want me to send you some more? It'd take a small amount of time, but I bet that, given about a day I can probably give you about five or ten different and somewhat unique contracts, and maybe some of them will have 'sequels', per se - Corrupt politician meets a nasty end, but the guy who owned him will then get a contract of his own.)

"Spearhead to HQ, I have arrived safely. Given the apparently poor security here, expect me to be done within a few hours. I assume that the escape would be the hardest part, due to the nature of the bonus."

After that, I decide to try my luck with the guards and some conversation. My Spanish is slightly rusty, although I'm sure that they'll appreciate the effort that an American has gone through simply to purchase some of their product. So, approaching a lone guard, I attempt to offer him some conversation. "¿Es, por casualidad, es posible para que usted pueda organizar una reunión con tu jefe? Me gustaría comprar algunos de sus productos, y he viajado por todo el camino desde América para hacerlo. Tengo dinero - Un montón de él." I say in the best Spanish I can.

(I used Google translate because I don't speak Spanish in real life.)

[Benzo]

The guard standing outside the gate looks at you, laughing with a glance to another nearby cartel member as he pointed his rifle, what appeared to be an AK-47, at you. "You speak our tongue like a bitch." he says in a rough accent. "You came here from America, for marijuana? Amigo, we already bring it to you privileged fucks." he then adds, spitting at the ground in front of you. "So why waste your time coming all the way to us?"

[Bannanachair]

"I intend to purchase it in large amounts. Or, more accurately, my employer does. He sent me all the way up here to discuss business with your boss. And I should mention, he's quite influential. If you want, I can call him for you. Or, you could just call your boss and tell him a wealthy American seeks to do business with him."

[Benzo]

The guard looks back at the other cartel member says something quickly to him, before then looking at you again and lowering his weapon slowly. "You must be the cocky gringo Sr. Vinas told us about. The mule, eh?" he asks you, turning to motion for the gate to open before waiting for an answer. "Do you have any weapons on you?"

[Bannanachair]

I'm going to have to make this fast if I don't want to trip any alarms, then - Who knows how long it will be until Vinas's actual contact arrives. "I brought a handgun with me because the airport isn't located in the safest of neighborhoods, but you outman and outgun me." Just before I say that, I begin unscrewing the suppressor on my gun in my pocket for if they feel the need to check my gun (I don't want the suppressor to be on for in case they begin to suspect that I'm trained). Hopefully it shouldn't take too long to unscrew it...

[Benzo]

The guard looks at you and holds his hand out. "Give me the magazine. We don't steal guns, but ammo is replaceable."

[Bannanachair]

"I can respect that," I say, taking the gun out of my pocket (once the suppressor is off, of course). I then remove the magazine and hand it to the guard. "You don't mind, by any chance, returning it once the meeting's done? My hotel's in a shitty neighborhood because my boss's cheap and if there's a home break-in or a mugging I'd prefer not to get shot."

[Benzo]

The guard looked at you, a slight sigh followed by something quickly muttered and a quick snicker. "Cocky and whines like a child." he muttered at the end, clearly meant for you to hear. Shortly after, the second guard runs off and comes back with what appears to be duct tape, which he then tapes over the top of your magazine repeatedly before handing it to you. "Touch that tape and you die, gringo." he says sharply. "Follow him," he says, pointing to another cartel guard, armed with an AK-47, waiting for you impatiently. "He'll take you to Sr. Vinas."

[Bannanachair]

"Alright," I say, heading in the direction of this new guard. The duct tape will be a bit of a bitch, but if in my escape I find the time to remove it, I'll do so. Once I arrive at the next guard, I begin to speak again.

"You're supposed to take me to Sr. Vinas, I presume?" I ask the man.

[Benzo]

The bald guard nods, remaining silent as he led you towards the main facility, his weapon remaining steady in his hands.
(I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it a night here. Reply as you wish, I'll get to 'em next chance I get.)

[Bannanachair]

I follow after him, and then enter the main facility. I'm somewhat surprised that they haven't noticed the AGE insignia that I have plastered on my shirt, but then again, why should they care about it if they've never heard of us? I wait for more instructions or for Sr. Vinas to arrive, then.

[Benzo]

The guard leads you into the interior of the the compound, all rather plain looking you notice along your way up to the second floor. Upon climbing the stairs behind the guard, he leads you to a double-set doorway and knocks. "Gringo de Sr. Sermano." he says quickly, before opening the door and waving you inside.