Melissa smiled at the man. Perhaps he'd been spying on her earlier. She liked to think so.

"I'll have a bourbon, with ice if you have it please", she said, moving towards one of the chairs and waiting for an invitation to sit down.

"Why not? Five o'clock somewhere right?" he responded with a thicker than normal Norwegian accent.

He poured the drinks leaving the bottles on the table next to a pile of dossiers with you names on them and noted Palmers lack of response.
"So tell me about yourselves and what you can do for me?"
"What are your specialities?"

Karl tossed back the whiskey in one gulp.
"A bit of explosives, a bit of shooting, a little swimming. You know, the usual Marinejegerkommandoen stuff."
He held out the glass for a refill.
"What about you?"

McClan knocked back his own drink before refilling both his and Karls again.
"Ah, nice try there, but we're here to talk about you four, not me."

Smiling while sipping his drink.

I'm similar to Karl, without the accent chicks dig. And i'm a little better at making things not blow up than blow up.

Melissa took a sip of her drink.

"I'm unlike these guys. I have a accent that guys dig because it reminds them of a certain K. Knightley. I'm good at analysis, persuasion and information gathering. Also planning transportation".

"I'm a combat medic. I've been deployed to bad places and brought my guys home alive.  Unfortunately, not always in one piece, but some things are beyond your control." Palmer is quiet for a moment.

"I can hold my own in a fight if I'm needed. Not much more to say, really."

"Any of you done any jobs I might have heard about?"
Seemingly getting a bit bored at the "tame" responses he was getting, his gaze wandered to the beach outside the large window and the barely clad women enjoying the sunshine.
"Great location here. The views are...inspiring."

"That would be telling wouldn't it?" Karl winked and drained the glass a second time.
"I'm sure you've done your checks though and know we're the real thing, otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here talking and drinking that quality bourbon would we?"
The glass was deposited back on the desk, ready for a refill.
"What about you? Been involved in anything we might have heard about?"

Melissa noticed McClan looking out the window at the women on the beach and thought that it would probably be better if he looked at her instead.

"Cuba has its charms, I would agreed. However, I personally prefer Jamaica. Better music and they speak English, which makes my life easier".
This message was last updated by the GM at 14:01, Sun 26 June 2016.

In reply to Karl Braende (msg # 42):

"Maybe," he replied, topping up his and Karls glasses again and doing a poor job of concealing his ogling of Melissa.
"Usually I deal with "simple" little jobs nobody else wants, but every now and then get something more, ah, interesting." His conspiratorial wink spoke volumes.

"Hey Palmer, you're fallin' behind. Drink up!"
Karl knocked back his third, or was it fourth glass in nearly as many minutes.
Slapping it back down for a refill, he prodded McClan to elaborate.
"So, interesting huh? Anything lately?"

Palmers' phone begins to sound...it's a ringtone he has not heard for many years...

"You wanna get that?" he asked with a slight slur - obviously the alcohol was starting to take effect.

"Uh, yeah. Right.   am behind a bit.", Michael said.   He picked up his glass and took a sip. He nodded appreciatively.  It definitely wasn't the usual house liquor.

Suddenly his phone rang.  Palmer was a bit surprised as he thought the ringer had been silenced.  He set his glass down and removed the phone from his pocket.

 -- "You wanna get that?" McClan asked with a slight slur

"I apologize.  Excuse me", he said as he walked to the far corner of the room.

"This is Michael.", he said into the handset, speaking in low tones.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:53, Mon 04 July 2016.

In reply to Michael Palmer (msg # 48):

Michael? I'm hoping you remember me though we have not spoken in years.  It's Robert...remember? We met in the Balkans? At that field hospital?  I was screening those men you brought in for possible chemical poisoning?

In reply to Robert MacIntyre (msg # 49):

"Yes, Robert. I remember that incident. Pretty bad deal.  Look, I'm in the middle of a business meeting.  Why are you calling?", Michael replied.

In reply to Michael Palmer (msg # 50):

"Business...that is precisely why I'm calling. My previous employer decided against renewing my contract due to, shall we say "political differences".  This means I am currently a free agent or "consulting specialist" and, through the course of several channels, I was advised to contact you."

Watching them all, slowly nursing his drink. Even slower if hes stuck with Bourbon. (::grins::)

In reply to Robert MacIntyre (msg # 51):

"Alright, What is it exactly that you do again? We didn't have much time to talk back in the Balkans."

In reply to Michael Palmer (msg # 53):

"I was a field medic, much like yourself...technically, although my expertise was in more, hmmm, lab-based work, shall we say.  And we're not talking blood samples and pregnancy tests."

"Well", Melissa said coyly, "What have you got that's interesting or otherwise? I mean, skinny dipping is all well and good, but I can't spend all my time here doing that..."

She leaned closer to George.

"Plus we are rather good at our jobs, so I'll be able to come back alive to meet you again. In fact, you want to have dinner with me?"

In reply to Robert MacIntyre (msg # 54):

"Ok.  I think I got your meaning.  Let me finish up here and I'll call you back in an hour or two. I really have to go.".

In reply to Michael Palmer (msg # 56):

"Yes yes, of course, business can be so...inpersonal over the phone.  I shall await your call."