It started with street cameras, interest provoked about the so called gang leader who was now in Steelport seemingly making Loren pissed beyond belief on the first day they show up to begin with, hearing about a gang leader who could do all this provoked him to check the street cameras, if there was a gang leader posing a threat to the Syndicate the least he wanted to know was what this so called gang leader looked like.
When the shitty camera angle finally picked up the Saints boss, all Miller did was widen his eyes, a short laugh escaping from him— on the hazy screen stood a smaller woman, lean in weight and short in height, short messy hair being pushed back in anger due to the situation at hand, words being mouthed to the much more developed looking women walking angrily beside her. This leader, someone who was actually posing a threat, looked as if she was a sixteen year old punk! Choppy colored hair, a septum piercing and clothes that looked as if she stopped caring on her wardrobe at least ten years ago.. this had to be some form of a joke.
Now the cameras turned into a game, Miller was interested to see if any of the stories lined up. A woman who practically rose her gang back form the dead in a night, kicked herself out of a five year coma and has killed over hundreds of people sheer for the joy of it at some points, a bloody psychopath in the eyes of the news and a hero in the eyes of saints, the visuals didn't match with the stories, it had him thinking a little harder on the subject then he cared to. Another camera, a different day, seems the Saints Boss was at a Planet Saints now, shopping with another member in order to redeem themselves style wise? Miller was unsure if another coat of purple needed to be slapped onto the Saint, seemed she cared far to much on the color then anyone should've cared. The Morningstar's surprise entrance pulled the two out from the store however, a grin on Millers face as he leaned against desk, watching computer screens for some sort of faulty run away— however the sudden burst of anger that came from the woman caught him off guard, the visuals finally matched the story.
This woman was dropping Morningstar's without a bat of her eye, a wicked grin laced on lips that mouthed some form of an unintelligible come back to the already bleeding out bodies, she darted from one car to the other sometimes even falling out of cover completely just to come face to face with another gang member, smashing skull to pavement and brains to squash by the end of her shotgun. This was the Saints leader— a psychopath who took more enjoyment out of killing then she did living, and finally Miller saw where the concern from Loren was coming from.
Interest sparked in Miller, this psycho was about the most interesting thing they had interrupting the Syndicate at the moment, much better then some politician attempt to post a smear-campaign or the FBI once more attempting to pin one event or scenario on the group, never actually finding the proof they needed due to a certain young hacker. To actually break ones enemy you should know them, that's where this whole search started— all he needed was some file or another, with how the rumors went he was more then positive he could find a police report on the Saint, and after around thirty minutes of poking and prodding idea came to reality, there on the screen was that face again, bruises littering the woman's jaw and a grin plastered on that image of a face, like a kid who just got their way.
The report wasn't that interesting, smaller things caught Millers attention than larger things, the Stilwater gang leader hadn't actually been from Stilwater, turns out her family was from Glasgow.. now he could understand where the stereotype for an angry Scot came from, hell this woman was probably the source of a lot of stereotypes placed on the Scottish.. next was the age in which she was relocated, sent out from Glasgow and sent to Stilwater to live with some Aunt, first report for her filing in under a petty theft and then upgrading to an assault shortly after. The charges placed on the older character in the photo however carried on for some time, Theft switched into Grand Theft Auto and from there blended to Murder, next was Man Slaughter— No time to put assault in there— Caught with possession, caught selling possession, caught beating someone with possession.. the damn list carried onto another page, Miller felt half bad for the idiot who had to sit at the computer screen to type all of these charges out.
What started as sheer interest was starting to turn into a habit, checking cameras all around the city just to see this 5'5" woman destroy cars and gang members, practically turning the videos onto his screen for the purpose of having something to peek at every once awhile when codes turned to irritation, it was a source of entertainment if anything. He made a mental note not to get caught watching any of the footage around other members of the Syndicate however, the way they treated him already was a downside to begin with, he didn't need eyes staring down his neck and lectures on how a threat was a threat, of course he understood that, when push came to shove he knew where loyalty lied and this habit wouldn't be enough to give him second thoughts about anything, it was just a game to play in his spare time.
Things had to grow complicated however, this woman became a larger threat then anyone had expected, what started as a petty irritation bug in the system spread into a large scale virus. This bug had managed to not only fuck up a quarter of the Morningstars profits, but even killed Loren and destroyed his own building in the process— Now there was no time to watch footage, with Killbane's violence towards his own living Miller kept to coding, attempting to find whatever he could against the Saints, anything that would make this bug downsize just for a little while.
Everything went to shit a lot quicker then expected, watching Kiki have her neck snapped in front of not only himself but her own sister just to add salt to the wound snapped Miller to the reality of the situation almost immediately, he was dealing with two psychopaths at this point.. one that wanted to wipe out the Syndicate entirely and the other who would snapped his neck if he even faltered at his keyboard. There was no way to smooth over this error, everything was a scrambling mess leaving Miller with more sleep deprivation then usual, now he was practically hacking for his life, one mistake could get him killed either damn way.
When the DeWynters shipment got nabbed there was a bit of a panic, he knew how Viola felt out about the whole situation— sour not only to Killbane but the entire Syndicate at this point, hell Miller didn't blame her! Anyone who wasn't sour around Killbane wasn't thinking logically, yet he never fully expected Viola to give a heads up to the Saints.. once the ship had been cleared of any profit— Well.. Ho's to be exact— Miller took a moment to think, this was a waste. There was no way of looking at this any not expecting it to be a waste, to lose profit and girls all in one go out of a petty get back game? He couldn't let that one push it's way past.. so despite the feelings that would be showed after the event Miller decided to give a call, the dial tone of the phone filling the empty noise of his room, computer screen showing the call had been picked up shortly after dialed.
He wasn't necessarily sure what to expect, hell he had hardly planned on what to say to the leader of the Saints but somehow words still pushed past those thoughts.
"You have something that belongs to me…" Perhaps it was a poor choice in words but it worked, caught the Boss's attention if anything from the way the voice retorted back through the line.
"..Who is this?" A tang of accent hardly noticeable right off the bat, Miller needed to get his idea out fast however, no time to actually ask questions or provoke answers, this needed to get done and it needed to get done quick. "Someone who's willing to bargain— Bring the girls back to the Morningstar and I'll pay you top dollar a head."
There's a mumble of some unintelligible sound before a reply is given, "I'll think 'bout it."
"That's all I'm asking." He hung up quickly after, staring at the call screen for a few moments thinking on the reply of actions he'd get back, surprisingly he hadn't been responded too with as much anger as he initially thought he would get, the Boss was almost reasonable sounding, however that would be shown in actions to follow, and to his dismay the girls weren't returned—…
He falls back to his habit now, a street camera showing girls being loaded into the Zimos Carwash, a smug woman leaning against the truck doors as she watches Zimos escort the women inside his home.
Things got a lot more complicated now, democracy wasn't exactly an option at this point.