Pretend theres a good name here

"Adkins."

"Vare."

The two stared each other down from either side of the desk, one grinning wickedly, the other looking on in sheer disdain.

"You invited me over for a reason, Apple Cakes. What is it?"

"You're the boss of the most deadly crime 'organization' in this hemisphere. I want negotiations for you to end your spree."

"Are you seriously telling me to stop?" He laughs and stands up. "That's ridiculous, Adkins. We can earn far more and keep much more influence if we simply do as we are, you've got nothing to offer any of us."

The director leans back in his chair, stone-faced. "I believe I can make you comply."

"Really. And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"We know where your Clubhouse is, Mister Vare."

"Congratulations. Are you supposed to be intimidating me?"

"Have you noticed the lack of any agents in the offices, today?"

"Sent them all on a raid?"

"They should be breaking down the door right now."

"I see. Well, I don't think that will be necessarily successful for you, Adkins."

"And what makes you say that?"

Vare whistles for about half a minute, then pulls out a photo, placing it on the desk. The director picks it up and glances down at it. A slight green hue covers the contents of the picture, a large pile of unconcious bodies laying down on a wooden floor, nearly entirely blocked out by the men.

"We're not stupid and unprepared, Adkins. A little crazy, maybe. Stupid? No. If we were stupid, we wouldn't be having this discussion, would we?"

The director stares dumbfounded at the picture, slowly setting it back down.

"They're alive, don't worry. Though, that's at the whim of all the other members. I'd recommend giving something to sweeten the deal if you want your men back, Adkins. Unless of course, you'll let me facilitate the decimation of nearly a hundred of your top operatives." He grins, entirely full of himself.

The director sighs and glowers back up at the godfather. "Very well." He slides over a small key. "This opens a box down by the train station. Fifty thousand in silver bullions inside."

Vare pinches the key and places it in his pockets. "Good." He smiles and steps towards the door, turning around in the doorway back to Adkins. "They'll be back by the end of the day. Hopefully we can make another deal like this in the future, hm?"

"Out."

"Of course, director." He steps out of the office, chuckling to himself.

The building's doors swing open, a loud crash accompanying as the sack of silver bars lands on the table in the middle of the room.

"Good work, boys. We didn't even have to do much." He pulls out one of the bars, sliding it over towards one of the members, inhaling from a small pen. "This one's just for you, Sunny boy. Nice call with the chloroform."

'Sunny boy' grabs the bar, stuffs it in his pocket then goes back to inhaling from the pen.

"Right, of course. I'll see to it you get an extra bottle of juice tonight, too."

He glances halfway up, quickly spurting out in a single breath, "That's what I'm talking about." He dips his head back down to the pen and continues sucking on it.

Another half-bar is slid over to a little girl, barely paying attention. "And for our planning expert."

She nods once and grabs it from the table, placing it in her coat pocket.

"And I'll divvy up the rest by evening. We're putting off tonight's job until tomorrow." He turns his head to another at the table. "Abernthy, any big losers today?"

She shakes her head, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm feeling tomorrow, then. Doc, did the.. uncooperative gentleman learn some manners?"

"Mm-mm. Tragic accident while he was under, though. Don't think the poor sap is waking up."

"A darn shame." He grins, standing up and grabbing the sack of remaining silver bars. He turns around and wanders upstairs into his private quarters and begins counting the remaining blackmailed silver.