Princes and Scoundrels
Julian walked with quiet authority. It was an echo, like the clothes he wore, the facial expressions he allowed, or the words he used. It all added up to a man that acted like he owned everything.
Despite all of that, Julian was preoccupied. He was preparing for his meeting with a special courier, one who would ship anything for a price- even people. Better yet, he was Harry’s son and Harry owed him a few favors. It was the trading of favors that made this city run like a well-oiled machine.
In the sitting room, the courier was relaxed, his back against a wall. Julian noticed with some distaste that he had a faded tattoo of a falcon peeking through the opening in his vest- and a gun on his belt.
“Hans, I presume?” Julian asked.
“That’s right, yeah. What’s the cargo?” Hans said.
“I like that, straight to the point, just like your old man. I need a coffin taken from here to L.A. with no one the wiser.”
“What is it, some kind of local trouble?”
Julian smiled politely. “You’ll leave in an hour.”