A/N: Ta-da, surprise. This chapter actually got written a lot quicker than I had anticipated. Still not really any idea where I'll take this or what possible storylines could be. So you will have to be very patient since updates will be very, very irregular.

Being in the job – or rather the field – I was in, I was often enough in a situation where people were after my head. For several reasons. Mostly for money, power and often enough even both. It came with the territory and the promise for a quick buck if you went after the right people. After years living the life I did, I had somehow gotten used to it. Gotten used to promises only being honored long enough until a better deal came around or relationships only lasting for a short amount off time. Best way to stay ahead in the game? No emotions, no feeling and never getting attached. To anything. The less leverage someone has over you, the harder it will be for them to dispossess you. As easy as that.

Someone who called you friend and ally today, might not do so tomorrow. Everyone had a price, even the most loyal ones. Well, almost everyone. I tend to surround myself with people who I trust. To a certain degree. You can't run the empire I run and not have people to trust. You'd never get ahead if you'd do everything yourself. But I was cautious with who I trusted how far and never disclosed everything about me at any given point.

That is the reason why I never left the house without an escort. And also during the day I never went anywhere without them. Evgeny and Sergey were both Russian and built like brick houses. They were ex-KGB and were morally questionable at best, not caring how the money for their salary was generated – as long as they were paid on time. As morally questionable as they might be, I was certain of one thing, they were loyal. I didn't need to worry about them backstabbing me or selling me out. Or – even worse – making deals with my competition in order to see me fall.

I had just gotten off the phone with the Columbians in regards of the latest shipment, when I noticed my assistant walking towards me a moment later.

"What's up?" I asked, scribbling down a last thought from the previous call before I forgot about it.

"For the third day in a row some guy is calling for you, says he wants to arrange a personal meeting."

"Okay, and why is that such a big deal? Usually you just arrange them or… not, depending on what they want. What's his name? Possible client?" I asked confused.

"I don't think he'd …um… qualify as client, no. Ranger or Carlos Manoso is the name he keeps giving me," Cayden replied.

"Doesn't ring a bell," I admitted after having spent a long moment thinking. "Did he say what he wants or needs? Or how he got my number?"

"Um…. Not really," I heard him say after a moment of hesitation. "After he had called a second time I had him checked out and …um… it seems he is in the business of …retrieval – among other things. That's how he got your number, he asked the right people the right questions and retrieved your number."

"Sounds like quite some guy. Especially since not a lot of people have that number. And what does he want?"

"Not sure, but I guess him being entangled with the DEA is not boding too well and could give you a possible clue."

"Entangled?" I asked. "As in 'he is on their watch list and has issues' entangled or rather 'works for the DEA' entangled?"

"The later," Cayden just said carefully.

"Did you do the usual and offer him a compensation for looking the other way or loosing interest?"

"I did. And before you ask, I actually offered him up four times the money you would usually pay."

"So?" I asked, trying to hide my annoyance about Cayden offering four times of what I usually used to pay off annoying officers or agents. He should know better. If word got out about these amounts being negotiable I'd be broke soon.

"He declined," he said almost strained.

"He what?" I asked almost confused. "He didn't take the money? Offer him more than," I finally decided despite the fact that this would cost me a fucking fortune to shut up some wannabe superhero, who probably just wanted to see his name on top of some drug bust or – even worse – tomorrow's front page.

"I don't think that will work," Cayden figured and I raised both eyebrows. My assistant was good, after all that was what I paid him for, but he usually also just did what I told him and didn't argue or offer an opinion.

"Do you care to share with the class how you came to that conclusion?"

A moment later a file landed on my neat desk. Opening it, I was staring at the most gorgeous guy I had laid eyes on in a long, long time. Flipping the picture I read whatever was written in the file and was not even too surprised when I learned that the guy was actually Ranger.

"He is one of the good guys," Cayden just remarked while I studied the information.

"Aren't they always? And then you offer the right price and all of a sudden their morals are adjustable. And everyone has a price." It was a lesson I learned very early on. There was a breaking point for everyone. The trick was to find it without spending too much money or time actually.

"He runs a company called RangeMan and is ex-military – Special Ops, Black Ops, something along the lines. Our sources were…divided on that. He seems to have a moral codex that might not be driven by money. Though that could probably be also due to the fact that his company is doing rather well and making a lot of money. His number is the first one any of the alphabet agencies call whenever they need outside help. He has one of the highest security clearances available and is contracted when things get tough."

"How touching. Someone at the DEA seems to think I finally am a number too big for them to handle easily. I'm flattered I guess…."

"What do you want me to do?" Cayden asked a second later.

I though about his question for a moment, letting out another sigh. I really didn't need this right now. Especially with my deals with the Columbians coming up. "Okay, if he isn't cooperating, find me someone inside his company who can give us info whenever he is onto something."

"As clean as he is, the same goes for every one of his guys."

A moment later, a second file landed on my desk. Inside I found more pictures and short summaries of at least two dozen men. All ex-military and all with a certain beefcake look. And all more or less squeaky clean. This had already 'headache' written all over it.

"Why do these guys always show up at the worst possible moments?" I asked more to myself than anyone really, massaging my temples in a circular motion, trying to ease the tension there.

"Is there actually a right time for them to show up?" Cayden asked confused and I just looked at him impatiently.

"How is it that every time we pay people off to look the other way, they get replaced and I'm left to deal with someone new?" I asked, annoyed. At this rate the amount of people I was paying off was costing me money fast and unnecessary and needed to be dealt with quickly and efficient.

"Did he leave a number under which he could be reached?" I asked, seeing my assistant look at me confused, before he produced a post-it that looked like it was one step away from being discarded. At Cayden's questioning expression, I let out a sigh.

"He obviously isn't just going to disappear by himself and also won't agree to whatever amount we'll offer up. So maybe a meeting in person could persuade him to reconsider."

"And if that doesn't work?" Cayden asked carefully, probably knowing the answer to that question.

"Well," I started, thinking about options, of which there weren't really many. Or any. "I guess if he doesn't see it my way, he'll disappear one way or another. Worst case I enlist the help of our Russian friends. They owe me a favor anyway. For now, let's hope it doesn't come that way. It would make my life a lot easier in all fairness…."