"Bruce tells me you're looking for weapons, Mr. Brar," said Jason Luger, a neat-looking man in a grey suit to the tall Indian standing before him. He had all the coolness of a cat who had trapped a mouse and was playing with it. "Mind if I ask why?"
Rajinder Brar (as Rama Avatar was calling himself), standing before Luger with an impassive expression on his face, briefly considered that Luger looked nothing at all like the stereotypical Mafioso he had not only seen in so many films but had known personally over the centuries, but rather he looked like a typical upper-class American executive from a Fortune 500 company. How times had changed. "No," Rama replied. "No, you may not. Suffice it to say that, if you have the merchandise, I have the cold, hard cash. Is that not a sufficient answer?"
Luger smiled, his already squinting eyes further clouded by the smile like an avid Poker player used to hiding his emotions from any and all observers. "All right, then," he finally said, rising from his desk. "Assuming I have the weapons that you're looking for, and I make no claim to do so, what exactly are you looking for?"
"Assault weapons," Rama said flatly. "An assortment of such."
"Specifics?" Luger asked as he stared at the man at the same eye level, his cobra smile morphing into an amused grin.
"None," Rama replied. "All I require is that they are in good working order and are easy to use. I make no claims to be an expert on assault weapons, but I am interested in a diverse assortment of them, complete with a good supply of bullets and all associated paraphernalia."
Luger walked around his desk and leaned against the front of it, pulling out a packet of chewing gum. "Care for a piece?" he asked. Rama shook his head. "Pity. This is a good brand. Wrigley's. Can't get enough of it since I stopped smoking. The toxicity is more-or-less gone from my body, but I still crave tobacco. I tried using the Patch for awhile, but I find that only chewing gum gives my mouth something to do. Do you smoke, Mr. Brar?"
Rama forced himself to keep from sneering, as his facial muscles seemed to involuntarily twitch around his nose. The situation was completely in the hands of Luger, and he knew it. "No, I do not."
"A non-smoker, huh?" Luger said casually. "What about drink?"
"Pardon?" Rama asked.
"Booze. Ever have a drinking problem?" Luger asked, chewing his gum as he folded his arms casually.
Rama hesitated a moment. "Well, yes. I have, on occasion, abused alcohol at times in my past."
Luger smiled broadly. "I'm glad to hear it," he stated. "I was beginning to think you were one of these health-freaks who's never had an addiction or craving in his life. So you're an alcoholic?"
"Ex-alcoholic," Rama corrected.
"No such thing," said Luger. "Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. My doctor said so. Only difference between you and the boozers down in the hotel bar is the time between drinks. How long has it been since your last drink, Raj. You don't mind if I call you Raj, do you?"
"Not at all," said Rama, who was actually bristling at the sudden and unwelcome familiarity of the man towards him. "I believe it's been... seven months, more or less."
"What? Nothing for Christmas? Not even a glass of wine?" Luger said with his ever-present grin.
"Well, I did have a glass of Zinfandel during my... company's Christmas dinner," Rama admitted.
"Ah-ha! the truth comes out!" Luger joked.
Rama was beginning to wonder if this man could help him at all. He said nothing, but merely continued his stoic demeanor.
"You're human, after all," Luger said after a pause. "Okay, I'll do business with you. So you're basically looking for a 'gift basket' of assault weaponry?"
"More or less," Rama answered, "at least for now. If we're happy with what we receive, there will assuredly be further orders."
Luger nodded. "As I thought there may be." He glanced at a man in the corner. "Chuck, show Raj, here, what we've got. Wrap up a gift basket of goods for him." He turned back to Rama. "Any special delivery requirements?"
"None," said Rama. "Delivery's completely local."
"We do have great rates for overseas shipping," Luger prodded.
Rama replied, "Thank you, but I have no need."
"Have your own transpo', then?" Luger said with a chuckle. "Fine, then. Fine." He pushed himself up from his relaxed pose at his desk and held out his hand. Rama shook it. "Good doing business with you, Mr. Brar. Donny will handle the financial transactions, and Chuck will give you the goods."
"Thank you," Rama said, replying with an affected smile.
