Colt wasn’t sure when the last time he had worked with the boss, but he knew well to keep his mouth shut about it. This job though, had taken a lot longer than anyone had anticipated and this was Colt’s second crack at breaking into this particular vault. He didn’t know the full details, didn’t ask either. When Nairn wanted a job done Colt was all business and the task at hand, no diddy daddling about.
With it being more complicated than first thought, they’d had to leave and then come back, ensuring their first visit went about unnoticed. It had only added to their favour when the occupant had decided to venture off into the countryside for the weekend. Perfect. Colt could have ample time to become acquainted with the vault and her secrets.
A tune came to his lips as he worked, sliding in tools and picks, pressing his ear now and then to listen to the interior as he turned this one, then that one. It could be said he was trying to woo it open and in some respects they’d be right, but Colt had not long came back from a Mina-Date and his good mood was obvious.
...Sweet creature, sweet creature… wherever I go… you bring me home..
Colt was in an Annoyingly. Good. Mood. But if it helped him work, he'd not fuss. So, Nairn sat on the ground, twirling a knife. This job was already taking longer than he cared for, but if the safe was as full as they'd been told, it'd make up for the multiple trips.
But after a while, the tune began to really annoy him, and he snapped, Colton! Stop singing, don't want your fuckin' contagious good mood. He'd been in a sour mood, and it had yet to fade away. No doubt because he wasn't sleeping in his own bed, but down in the dorms on a single, hard as rock piece of shit.
He really needed to buy the dorms better mattresses.
Nairn was preoccupied. Everyone was on edge with how his mood had shifted of late, but Colt tried not to let it affect him. He joked as normal, rough-housing with the others but steering them clear when Nairn came into the mess. Sticking to the normal routine was best when the boss and his missus were running cold.
The tune halted abruptly when Nairn snapped, practising hands stilling against the pick he’d been about to move. Pursing his lips the locksmith let out a sigh, Some locks you gotta sing to, Boss. Woo ‘em into opening. Like a Lady. Antivan’s know how to make good mechs, this one’s locked up tight.
He’d glance over, offering a half-smile. Shit sleep?
Nairn sneered toward the locksmith, and huffed, refusing a direct answer. Though the bags under his eyes were answer enough. He'd never slept well alone, but he wasn't about to visit the brothels and request a worker sleep in the same bed as him when he'd royally fucked his relationship up.
Just get it open. 'm goin' outside. He was sober, and miserable at the moment. But he'd not take anything until they were back at the C. He refused to risk others lives like that; if he were on a mission alone, maybe he'd be less than sober. For now, he recognized he was hindering the locksmith, and moved to stand.
He couldn’t help the short chuckle of apology with Nairn’s face. The whole C knew he wasn’t. It put everyone on alert, escape from his wrath quickly sought the minute his tone rose a semitone out of normal.
Aye, aye boss. Colt nodded, slipping in another pick with a satisfying click. He let out a sigh, letting his eyes follow the man’s back out before shaking his head to himself. Mummy and Daddy were fighting. And being caught in the crosshairs sucked ass. Colt went back to wooing the vault, the smooth baritone of his voice going in tandem as picks were shifted, turned, until the delicate tap of his hammer ensured the heavy clunk of internal seals releasing.
Leaning back he’d grin with yet another successful crack. He’d leave the contents for Nairn’s appraisal, getting back up to his feet to check on him while slipping out a rolled cigarette from his jacket, tapping it on the back of his hand before pinching it between his lips. S’open… you got a light?
Nairn eyed the rolled cig, as he shoved a matchbook to the younger man. Good job. He didn't sound at all pleased, but he moved into the room again. Left the door open, as he settled on his hunches in front of the now-open vault.
Bags had been discarded beside of the vault, on the off-chance they got it open. And Nairn whistled at the contents. A few gold bars, more than a few gold coins. Then there were the jewelry pieces, carefully wrapped with care. Already packed into boxes... easy enough to pack up and carry away.
He began separating gold and jewels into two bags, calculating in his head what the total came to. More than triple the trips they'd had to make. So, why're you in such a good mood, anyway? He inquired, speaking loudly enough to be heard outside.
Colt offered Nairn his usual lopsided grin, giving him a nod and a quiet chuckle as he shoved the matchbook into his hand. The locksmith had matches, but as it was so often a chore to get the other man to offer more than a grunt, he’d take a stick and spark up his cig. He’d only take a few draws before stubbing it out between his fingers and tucking it behind his ear to finish later.
Walking back into Nairn’s call and sifting through the goods, Colt crouched not far away, tilting his head at some of the safe’s contents. Pursing his lips he’d whistle, this was a lot more than they were led to believe was in the safe he guessed from Nairn’s meandering calculating gaze.
The question though, that caused him to let out a short laugh and quickly clearing his throat, Uh, prob best not to tell ya, boss. It uh. It involves the girl I’m courtin’ is all. His shoulders shrugged, head sinking into them while even crouch his feet shifted, hoping to avoid putting the man in a worse mood, but Colt couldn’t quite help himself. She’s great, real jem of a lass. And it’s going good. I think we're maybe serious, I just….
His mouth hung open, taking a breath and shaking his head. You know, I’mma shut up. Not the time for distractin' us. So, eh... What’s going where?
Nairn snorted, ushering the locksmith to talk if he was gonna. He listened, tilting his head, Mmm, when you find a good girl, Colton, you should do everything you can to keep her. It was all he had to say on the matter, before his attention returned to the loot.
These are going to the East safehouse, to Ema. He shook two of the heavier bags. She'll transport them through the tunnels to the main, from there. Because Ema was falling over herself, to prove she was worth his attention. She'd do nothing to earn his ire.
These ones go to the brothels. We'll restock their coffers, pick up the powder they've made, drop it off with Danny. And Danny would take it to distributors, often people on the street corners, who blended in like they belonged.
Ready? It was the type of work lackies should be doing. But sometimes it cleared his head; and he could use that right now.
@Colton Young OOC Note: Let's end on your post? And we can give them a more recent?
