Taylor Hebert was now sitting in front of her desk, waiting for a call. As she did so, she continued to write code for her newest project, Crime.Net. A centralized hub for crime and villainy.
'Despite my progress, the development is so slow.' She grumbled to herself.
Finally, she got the call. And boy was she excited. She nearly jumped out of her chair in excitement.
"Adam Mustain, I presume?" she spoke through her voice modifier. She could never be to careful.
"The fuck you want, you cyber-spy bitch?" a gravely, disgusting voice spoke through the speaker.
"Charming. I thought you called because you were interested?" she mocked the person on the other end.
"Well, you better explain pretty quickly. Or we'll find you and strip ya and sell you to the japs." He snarled.
Taylor snorted. That was highly unlikely.
"Listen, Do you want to hear the pitch or not?" she asked sharply.
"Fine. But you better make this worth my time you man-slut." Adam, better known as Skidmark, snarled.
She chuckled. "Trust me, you will look back and recognize this as the best conversation you ever had."
The man on the other end snorted. "If you aren't selling me drugs, I highly doubt that."
"Listen, Skidmark, you do realize that the Archer's Bridge Merchants produce the most Methamphetamine in the USA per year?" She asked.
"You better fucking believe it. My boys are fucking breaking bad over here 24/7." he boasted.
"Well, the Archer's Bridge Merchants also consume most of that Meth within the day. Do you know how much a gram of Meth is worth?" she asked.
"About 20 bucks, why? You looking to get some?"
"Not me, but I know people who are. 1 gram of meth can go for about 80 dollars in Colombia, and upwards of 200 dollars in New York. 1 Kilo of Meth can go for up to 35 thousand dollars in Washington. You understand what I am getting at?" She replied patiently.
"You want to buy some of our Meth?" Skidmark replied sarcastically.
"Not exactly. You understand, Mr. Mustain, that if you were to start selling you Meth internationaly, you could become a Multi-millionaire within a year." She explained.
"And why should I care?" Skidmark Snarked.
"I have connections, Mr. Mustain. Let me ask this, who are you?" She asked rhetorically.
"I'm fucking Skidmark! Leader of the Merchants and the baddest motherfucker in Brockton Bay!" He boasted.
"I don't agree. The other gangs let you exist because of your delicate position." she argued
"The Fuck you mean?' he asked.
"The Archer's Bridge Merchants are powerful enough, that it would be too annoying to the other gangs to get rid of you. Just enough power that it would not be worth it to eradicate you. But if you were to piss them off . . ." she trailed off.
"You insulting the Merchants?! I'll fucken kill you!?" he threatened, practically screaming.
"Let me ask you this. I have connections, as I mentioned before. I can get people to ship and sell your product as far as South America. All I need is a deal. You cook and get me a steady supply of Meth, I can ship it, and sell it outwards for a high mark-up." Of course, Taylor didn't have these connections 𝘺𝘦𝘵, but Skidmark didn't need to know that.
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Crime.Net (Worm/Payday 2)
FanfictionWe all need a Payday. Taylor Hebert has decided its time for hers. Alt!Power Taylor/Bain
