The cheetah-man had caught up with them quickly. Kagame glances over at Kagoslov, who'd hopped into the seat next to him as they made their way through the crowds.
"So what did boss-man tell us to do again?" his partner asks.
Sigh.
"We're off to meet with a corporate liaison. His group has managed to lose a shipment of arms to what our new C.O. has assured us is nothing more than some ordinary kakkerlak street scum, and we've been tasked with retrieving it." He lights his fifth cigarette, and continues, "For whatever reason, the U.N. have decided to get involved with this petty crime, and have been *gracious* enough to allow us to participate. Half of their team is off playing policeman," he motions to the other two men in the jeep, "While these ones have smartly chosen to come with us to try and get more information before proceeding."
He draws on his smoke, and exhales a thick cloud that quickly dissipates in the breeze. "We, or rather one of you, will also hopefully be able to convince this liaison to allow us to reroute the next arms shipment nearby, so that we can lay an ambush for these kakkerlakkes rather than blundering around like our U.N. friends."
((So, just to make sure I'm straight on this, Duncan and Loach are at the bar, and the rest of us are crammed in this little jeep, right?))