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Post by claymorrow on Sept 21, 2010 21:56:43 GMT -5
Name of Thread: Devil's Right Hand
Characters Involved in Thread: Clay Morrow - Mirko Dracovic - Tig Tagger
IC Month Thread Occured: June
Brief Description of Thread: Clay sends Mirko down to help Jury. Tig makes some jokes. References to the Lochness Monster are made.
"Mirko."
When he hit the door Clay Morrow wasn't speaking in a normal voice in fact it boarded on bellowing more than it did anything else, and as he slammed the door behind himself he looked around the garage. His phone call with Jury hadn't gone well in the least bit and after finding out what had happened, well they just didn't have the man power to deal with that sort of thing. Slumping down in the seat he lit a cigar before he dropped his head back waiting for the mountain of a man to appear, in all fairness Clay had wanted to test him but this hadn't been how he planned on doing so. Lucky break was that Raylan was already down there over something else, which had made things slightly easier on Clay and that gave him time to think about things.
When he heard the door open and then close he didn't even bother to look up to see whom it was, he didn't have to. "Don't get comfortable, your going to be packing up to take a little trip," he began before he looked up. "Your going down to the Indian Hills, the Mayan's are giving the Devil's Tribe some trouble and well they don't have the man power that I do. So I figure that your big, your scary, you seem to know how to keep your ass out of the fire." He didn't know if he had ever been there before or not which was why Clay had taken the time to write down direction, well he'd had Kate write them down to save himself the hassle of having to do so.
"Any questions, comments, concerns?" He waited for an answer before he leaned back in the chair more, the look on his face as serious as could be. "Now when your ready I'll explain exactly what happened and what your up against."
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Post by lurker on Sept 21, 2010 22:33:44 GMT -5
Mirko appeared when called like a big, loyal dog; a pit bull or a rottweiler or Cerberus. He considered it a personal honor to be taking orders from one of the originals; it was, after all, why he transferred to Charming. Or so he kept telling himself. He entered the room with slow, heavy footsteps and shut the door behind him and stood before Clay almost at attention, awaiting orders. His face was a cold, calm, inscrutable mask. He looked at Clay with a pair of hard, dark, deep-set eyes like polished obsidian.
He stood like a statue, silent, listening attentively and taking in every word Clay said to him. The situation appeared grave. He angled his head down a degree to show that he understood the severity of it. There were plenty of good people in Indian Hills. Soon there would be plenty of dead Mayans. With one glance at Mirko there could be no doubt in anyone's mind that he was capable of brutal violence. His big, rough hands probably had gallons of blood on them.
"I have no questions, sir," Mirko said in a deep serious voice. "I am ready."
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Post by claymorrow on Sept 21, 2010 22:52:42 GMT -5
"Last night one of Jury's club's was hit. Killed a dancer, injured some people, and one of his boys took one to the thigh. Their numbers are down thanks to the Mayan's and he's asked for help, I'm giving it too him." Clay began before he looked over and then lifted an eyebrow. He had to give MIrko this much, he didn't ask questions he just went along with it.
He looked over to the corner where Tig had been standing before he cleared his throat. "The bottomline is this, you want to prove yourself now is the chance to do that. Jury already has someone set up to meet what you while he's dealing with things." He added before he glkanced back at his Sergant in Arms.
"Tig?" If he had something to add now was the chance. Handing Mirko another peice of folded paper he looked back at him before he lifted an eyebrow. "That's where you meet your contact."
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Post by tig on Sept 21, 2010 23:18:25 GMT -5
Tig had heard Clay shouting and came into the office to see what was going on. He'd been working on a car and was only just wiping the grease off his hands when he heard what happened to Jury's club. He stood in the corner of the office as Clay told Mirko what he was going to do.
He couldn't believe what the Mayans were doing. They had to know they weren't getting away without retaliation. Not that Tig cared, he was always up for a fight. He'd roll out now if that's what Clay wanted him to do. He'd been off thinking when he realized Clay was giving him the 'anything to add here?' look.
"Don't die on us Sasquatch, otherwise I won't be able to watch your documentaries on the discovery channel", it was the closest anyone would ever get to a be safe or good luck from Tig. It didn't matter if the guy was new here, he earned his cut and that made him a brother. Tig would be proud to stand next to him any day in a fight.
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Post by lurker on Sept 22, 2010 21:15:54 GMT -5
Mirko nodded stiffly at Clay's elaboration. There was something in his face that changed. It was just a brief flash of fire and then it was gone, back to the stone cold face of a stone cold killer.
Mirko took the paper from Clay between his index and middle fingers and held it there until there was a break in the conversation, at which point he unfolded it in a careful and methodical manner and gave it a quick once over. He nodded, re-folded it and slipped it into the front pocket of his cut. He put his eyes on Tig, listened, nodded, then responded.
"It will take more than Mayans to kill me," Mirko said in a deep confident voice with a bit of a sneer to it. There is no limit to his contempt for the Mayans.
"If that is all I will leave immediately."
Mirko looked from Tig to Clay.
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Post by claymorrow on Sept 23, 2010 12:34:23 GMT -5
Tig was on a roll and it was enough to make Clay crack a much needed smile and relax enough the already hulking man didn’t look like he was about to crack like a mirror that had been hit too hard. Leaning forward in the chair and folding his arms over his chest Clay eyed the man before him in a serious fashion before he shook his head returning a look to his Sergeant in Arms. While Mirko might have had no love for the Mayans, which was a shared feeling, it didn’t make the situation any less drastic than what it already was.
“I don’t have anything else to add at this moment and time, you might pass Raylan while your down there. I sent him to check things out and tell me exactly what was going on, your job is to make your presence known to the Mayans and scare the shit out of them if they get any closer,” in other words a few dead Mayan’s weren’t going to make Clarence Morrow loose any sleep at night and more importantly it would probably make him feel a hell of a lot better about things as well.
There was one other thing and he wanted this understood more than anything else however. “Just because you go down there doesn’t mean I want a pissing match with them, Jury is a good man and he knows what he’s doing. His numbers are already down and you throwing your weight around isn’t going to help that situation in the least bit,” he explained before he paused, maybe for dramatic effect or maybe just because he could it was really difficult to tell at that moment and time. “In other words if you screw up, Tig will be watching shows on the Lochness Monster instead.”
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Post by tig on Sept 23, 2010 13:24:53 GMT -5
Tig sat by and was glad to see Clay get a brief moment of happiness but he didn't think anything he would do would crack Mirko. The man was the literally a a stone cold killer, nothing was going to break him out of that.
He had to agree with Clay about sending the giant man down for intimidation purposes but he'd hate to see his presence causing more problems for Jury.
"Try not to hook up with to many of Jury's girls, he can't run a business if you break 'em all", he pulled out his phone and started to play brick breakers as Clay told him what he was going to be doing.
"And I hate that long necked bastard", he added as a last note.
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Post by lurker on Sept 26, 2010 14:17:42 GMT -5
The thought of a smirk crossed Mirko's mind when Clay told him his job was to 'scare the shit out of' the Mayans. Well, Mr. Morrow, you chose the right man for the job. The tank of a Croatian could scare the shit out of Death if he had to. Nevermind his height. Nevermind the fact that he had muscles forged of steel, cold and hard and honed to an edge. It was the eyes, dark and empty but for a brutal and unrelenting killer instinct.
His arms hung at his sides. He clenched his hands into fists slowly and deliberately as if imagining his calloused fingers closing around the throat of a Mayan. In his mind he heard a sick popping sound and a gasping, gurgling noise; felt something pop in his hands as a Mayan windpipe collapsed under the pressure of his iron grip.
He relaxed his hands like he hadn't been thinking of anything but had instead just been listening intently to the President and the Sergeant at Arms; like respectful, obedient Mirko.
"I respect Jury," he finally said. "I will not cause any difficulty for him. These Mayans will be dealt with. You have my guarantee."
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