It's rarely ever about what you say, and usually about how you say it. What he was about to arrange would take some very careful saying indeed. Ol' Mr. Arasaka himself was one of the few people who could do what he was about to attempt, and he had quite a bit more practice than himself. Still wasn't going to be impossible. Ol' Mr. Redeyes himself wasn't impossible to bargain with, just very easy to anger in ways that most couldn't recognize.
When you played the game, all parties knew that everyone was out to screw each other over. In the world of money it was all about you and getting ahead of everyone else. You had to take everything you could, and leave nothing for anyone else, else they might screw you over and leave you scheming at the bottom again. Nothing personal about this whole game of words and deals, just temporary alliances and friends of convenience.
Ol' Mr. Redeyes didn't play that way. He didn't care what some piece of paper said about what each party was obligated to do. He didn't care that you theoretically had him by the balls in the courts if you were willing to press him on it. He operated on your word and what your word implied at the surface level, and no deeper.
You try to play tricky with that tomcat, and he'll just kill you and everyone who tries to help you out, damn any potential consequences about it. You tried to wave paper in his face and he'll tear yours right off. You try to weasel out of what you said you'll do, and he'll slaughter his way through your guards and turn you into an example.
There was no point in trying to out scheme Adam Smasher. Because he didn't care about how many guns you threw at him, he'd rather murder you than ever tolerate you staying alive another day. That's what it meant to be the strongest man on the planet, he was utterly above the whole game of words and deals.
It was power of the purest kind, the kind that Percy admired but didn't want for himself. He was a different kind of player too, and one uniquely suited to dealing with Ol' Redeyes.
So 6th Street started having themselves a little civil war over one more op retreated from. Morton was a smart man, but he was military trying to pretend to be a ganger, it was never gonna last long with Gunner as his 2nd. Good news was Militech had some sleepers in the area, ready to be swept up in the 'recruiting' that both sides would soon engage in.
The planned inner conflict would weaken 6th Street enough for them to slip more agents in, solidify their long term hold, and get them to destroy most of those surplus Wolfhounds and preserve the balance of power between 6th Street and the rest of the gangs in Night City. All the dominoes falling right into place.
Percy was a man who liked to make sure the right product ended up in the right places at the right times, it was his favorite job.
All that was left of this affair was to convince Mr. Redeyes to not go play tomcat in the barn full of mice. Percy had a good strategy in mind to achieve this goal, and to further the goals of the Bossman. His requested Delamain pulled to a stop in front of the recently wet-docked Ebunike, and he grabbed his incognito cane. This one was only enraged with golden filigree, and therefore would help a man of his stature blend in with the less fortunate.
"Thank you kindly-like, Mr. Delamain. I'll be sure to leave a golden review on your service." He complimented the AI with a smile, it always paid to be a gracious customer. The screen displaying the cold-looking man with thin blue lips almost made an expression, but replied warmly.
"It is my pleasure, Mr. Undercover. This car will remain ready to transport you again, at your convenience. Delamain hopes for your meeting to be successful." AI didn't like at all like a human might, but they were usually programmed to appreciate the same basic social courtesy. Percy squeezed his great bulk out of the slightly-too-small car and stretched briefly, letting his linear frame and grafted myomer strain his silver buttons.
First step of his financial journey began with 'staying alive' and wearing armor might send the wrong message to a potential buyer. On the other hand, just about everyone loved a big man with big eddies to spend and big deals to make. Percy himself liked the idea of being real big too, so those initial investments were easy for him.
Percy always wanted to be big, in just about every way he could be.
He stepped forwards, incognito suit and silver on, and walked to the edge of the dock. There he tapped his incognito cane on the ground in front of him, and rested his hands on it's head. He looked up to the nearest camera, smiled all calm-like, and waited for them to send someone out.
Old Redeyes was inside, almost certainly preparing for a counter-raid on 6th Street for their funny business an hour or two ago. The NCPD were swarming the area, DangerGal was up there on the rooftops watching him like the kittens they were, and that up-comer Armstrong woman and her brother were already on the ship.
He had been noticed a long time ago, he just had to wait for them to open a dialogue.
He kept his emotion about the area carefully hidden. There was still a whole lotta trash in Night City it seemed, seems like Nightcorp still couldn't afford to send armed street sweeps around. That was unfortunate, maybe he could arrange for that to be handled. Ain't nobody liked doing business in a dirty place, nobody except the Bozos that was. They had never ended up flatlining ol Ozob, and that made him slightly worried, unfinished business and all that.
…Speaking of unfinished business, that Deshawn punk was still around, wasn't he? He needed to arrange a hit on that one, utterly unprofessional. See if he could make that line up with anything else on the agenda.
His internal agent lit up with an incoming call, and he let his small smile widen just a tad as he accepted it.
"Hello hello." He answered.
"You're in front of my boat. Why." The threat didn't need to be spoken aloud. The threat was obvious in the tone of voice alone, the same tone that Mr. Redeyes always defaulted to.
"Mr. Smasher, I've come to make a bargain. My higher ups want something from you, and I'm empowered to offer you a great deal in return." Well, more like higher up, singular, but he was incognito right now, no need to say that out here in the open.
"If it's a contract, tell them to fuck off. I'm busy." Mr. Redeyes blasted his full charm through the call, Percy shook his head calmly as he replied.
"Nosir, It's not a contract unless you want it to be, it's essentially a bribe." Full honesty was the best tactic to use here, and any attempt to weasel his way around would be met with the boot. "Too sensitive to speak out here in the open though, permission to come aboard-like?"
There was a pause.
"Try anything and I'll kill you, then whoever sent you."
Percy smiled, using his grip on his cane to keep his hand from shaking a tad. He didn't doubt that at all. You don't get to be Smasher's age as an active soldier without being a special kind of monster. This was very well known among corporate circles.
He moved forwards, reaching the edge of the dock and still being a good few meters away from the boat. Next step was going to be showing off a tad. Patting his pants once or twice, he then crouched and jumped with all the power of his superhuman muscles and external mount jump boosters. A special little thing the lab boys made a while back, most of the power of a standard jump booster, but mounted externally so that ACPA might be able to use them.
Their Jackrabbit Commandos used them to good effect, far as he was informed. His business was logistics, not tactics.
His cane hooked around the edge of the ship, and strain and pulled into a swing, hauling himself up onto the deck. Rising from his bit of athletic adventurism, he made sure to wipe non-existent dust off his Yves Saint Laurent suit. This wasn't the Versace that he preferred, or the Hugo Boss that many in Militech preferred due to being a… relatively budget option, to be polite about it. It was his incognito suit, after all, being too fashionable would defeat the point of it all.
Rising to his full height again, he walked around the edge of the ship moving up to the... Back of the ship? There was a specific term for it, he knew, but what it was was lost on him at the moment and looking it up on his agent right now would just be tacky.
He didn't pause when he saw the bloodstains, but he was awfully careful to step around them. It looks like the kind of job you'd need a powerwasher for, if he was being honest. He supposed Mr. Redeyes hadn't gotten around to it quite yet.
He paused when he heard a door open up ahead, and out stepped that bright young merc Smasher had picked up recently. That was a smart thing t do on his part, from what Percy had seen, Mr. Martinez was quickly becoming a younger, nicer Adam Smasher himself. The foresight to see that in an edgerunner on the verge of cyberpsychosis was commendable.
Mr. Redeyes wasn't stupid, after all, just unwilling to play the game. Too few participants realized that.
He nodded his head at the young man, and stepped forwards at a relaxed and non-threatening pace. That was a mighty strong glare the boy had, and if Percy hadn't seen worse before he would probably be fairly intimidated.
But nothing is worse than Mr. Redeyes glaring at your convoy with standing orders to destroy it. Then again, the raid of '56 was a clusterfuck in all kinds of ways, that was just one of the standout moments.
He followed the young man with the shotgun into the room, where sat the King of Chrome himself. He was on what looked like a LEGOcorp reinforced 'tactical borg' bench, in an old Arasaka-standard Alpha-class full cybernetic body conversion, surrounded by the second-largest collection of limited-run Militech mk31 security-class HMGs that Percy had ever seen. First largest being Ms. Murderhands own collection over in BosWash.
If he had a penny for each time he saw someone collect that gun…
There was silence for a brief while as Redeyes sized his considerable bulk up. Finally, he spoke (it was good to let the client talk first, let them feel they had control). "Talk."
Slowly, he reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of imports, showing them off clearly as he opened up the package and revealed they were fresh. It was always good to have a small gift, and these were his favorite. "Genuine Cubans, as a little peace offering to set the mood." He lit up his own and took a drag, showing off that they weren't coated in fast-acting poison, and offered the case.
Adam Smasher gestured for him to set it on the desk. He nodded in polite acquiescence and did so, stepping back to his original distance and carefully not taking any more drags after. "I'll not waste your time on ceremony then, Mr. Smasher. 6th Street done made an enemy of you with their little operation." Technically, Militech's operation, but that didn't need to be said aloud for all parties to understand it. "Way my superiors see it, you're gonna go turn them from an Is to a Was. Problem is that those boys are still useful to us. So I'm here to see about weregild. What will it take to let bygones be bygones here?"
"Militech's quick to cover their asses, looks like." Redeyes growled out, not letting his contempt be hidden in the slightest.
Percy smiled, not saying anything one way or the other. Smasher leaned back on his bench and glared in contemplation for a long moment.
"...Three things, mouthpiece." He began after a moment. Then he tilted his head in brief realization. "No. Four."
"First is fifty million eurodollars. I need to pay for damages, and this whole incident pissed me off so I'm charging extra."
Percy nodded his head in understanding. If he had asked that ten years ago, it would've been impossible for the NUSA to afford. The Unification Wars changed quite a few variables, thankfully.
"Next is five of those laser anti-missile systems that Militech shoves on their light aerospace cruisers. Five of those with a full set of spare parts and tech manual for each."
Percy nodded, a bit slower this time. That would be… harder to do, but Bossman would probably sign off on it. That was something he couldn't hide as merely falling off a truck out near Texas.
"Next is a full set of NUSA papers and licenses for starting and running a PMC, and another set for starting and running an arms manufacturer. Get those to me within the week." He demanded, and Percy was glad for it. That one was downright easy to do, he just needed to tell the right accountant to fill out all the paperwork.
"Of course Mr. Smasher, I hope you keep my employers in mind for future business in both regards." He commented. "The last thing you wanted?"
Redeyes glared right at him. "Those fuckers from Segotari have been hounding me for a few days now, it seems. Send someone to figure out why, and if it's legal charges then make them disappear for me…" Redeyes considered it for a moment. "Also tell them their name change was stupid. Segatari was better."
Percy chuckled briefly, before taking up his cane and nodding. "I'll see about getting all that business done then. In exchange for letting this little 6th Street attack slide."
"Only this attack, if it happens again I'm going to get more out of you meatbags. Or kill them all, either or."
"Of course. You want that in writing then?"
Adam Smasher waved a hand. "Don't bother. If your word isn't enough, I'll just kill you."
Percy grinned widely as he took his leave.
Adam Smasher made deals in a very foreign way.
He did it with bald faced honesty. It was quite refreshing to one Percy Drebin, Head Director of Militech's North American Logistics. He just loved deals in which everyone got to win. He just loved handling these things in person, it made the whole thing more engaging.
He jumped down off the ship, careful to not let any part of his body save the bottom of his shoes hit the dirty ground, and walked over to get in the Delamain waiting for him.
Carefully negotiating his bulk into the slightly-too small limo, he closed the door and greeted his AI driver. "I'm ready to go, Mr. Delamain. Thank you for waiting on me."
"It was my pleasure. I hope your meeting was fruitful, Mr. Incognito."
Percy tapped the door to let the window slide down slightly and took a drag of his imported cigar. With a wide smile, he spoke. "That it was, Mr. Delamain. That it was."
After all, it got him quite a bit more information to work with for future deals.
He just loved putting all the parts together.
Good logistics was like a nice suit that way.
And Percy considered himself quite fashionable.