Marching on the Mississippi

"If it isn't David Oakley. You still have time to play? I heard your cargo has been targeted!"

An unfriendly voice came from the side. The black man had a cigar in one hand and a beauty in the other and was flanked by two bodyguards as he stared at David.

"Go annoy someone else, Natar." David's expression darkened when he heard Natar's voice, but he soon recovered. He turned around and looked at the black man. "There's a little problem with Ryker's cargo, but it has nothing to do with you. I just lost a couple hundred thousand. That's still better than you - you can't even get the leftovers."

"Hehe, how do you know I didn't get anything? Natar smiled darkly.

"Hah." David snorted. "I knew it was you. You want to play a hand?"

"Haha, I don't know what you mean, but if you want to play, I'll play with you." Natar laughed and handed his cigar to his bodyguard who took it and put it out.