@hetor location: hm prison pennington date: 3rd january, 2021 time: 11am
Uriel was very specific about the people they chose to join Death.
They could not simply pick up thugs from the street like the Big Three did, muscle that did their work for a price rather than a cause. Their operation was far too valuable for that, their secrets too numerous and too vast. After all, what was the point of forming a secret organisation if you were just going to let any old rabble in? No, the people that joined Death had to be trustworthy, talented, driven. They had to have either a strong sense of justice or a deep-rooted hatred for authority (both was a bonus). A violent streak was helpful, but not essential, as that could always be developed along the way.
May often heard about people who could be suitable to join their ranks through her work. Old news articles, whispers from contacts, London’s criminal folklore - names would land in her lap on a fairly regular basis. Many of them didn’t pan out, of course, their reputations not holding up under any intense scrutiny, but occasionally there would be a name that she could pass on for Uriel’s inspection.
Hector was perfect. A vigilante, relied upon by his community; violent but with a need to protect; a history of rallying against War; deeply wronged and likely with a desire for revenge. Frankly, they couldn’t have dreamed a better candidate. He was so good, so right for them, that Uriel went to go and see him personally - a rarity these days, when they were so heavily involved in other matters. May had received a text from Uriel shortly after his trip to the prison consisting only of two short sentences. Pick him up at 11am tomorrow. He’s what we need.
She was leaning casually against the black Rolls Royce, arms lightly folded, when the gates opened to reveal the man that she hoped would be their newest recruit, stepping away from the building that he never deserved to be confined in. “Hector Carrasco.” She took a couple of steps forward, away from the car, and greeted him with a smile. “My name is May Nguyễn, I’ve been sent to meet you. Uriel asked me to express his regret that he couldn’t collect you himself, unfortunately he was called away on other business.” For a moment she turned, opening the vehicle door behind her, before facing him again with raised eyebrows and an inquisitve head tilt.
“Would you like to get in? We have a lot to discuss.”
