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It was a low class establishment. Not because the owner wished to draw in the wrong crowd, simply because he was poor and his constituency was poor. It was something of a miracle the bar owner kept the place running, and so though there were lights, they were dim, cheap, and very poor.

This, of course, made it perfect for a secret meeting, which is why Nonus Caelinus had appointed this place for the secret meeting he intended. Hiring private eyes was not an every day occurrence - it happened, and when it happened it was done by people like Nonus, but hiring a private eye was akin to admitting you had a problem that required dirty work to clean it up. It was best if not too many people noticed what was happening, and anyone who noticed in a place like this wasn't likely to say anything. It helped that the only person who was certainly not inebriated, the barkeep, had been given a nice tip to keep him quiet.

So Nonus waited, the darkness of his little corner seat protecting his face from easy sight. He'd put up an advertisement without a name a few days ago. Now he was left to fidget in his seat, wondering who would be fool enough to show up without so much as a name or a job description. Only the truly desperate. Those were best, he thought. Cheapest, surely.

Even the heavily inebriated knew well enough to stay clear of Claudius; they saw the way he bore himself, they understood his power even through their drunk stupors, and so they stayed well away from him.

At the table, the man indicated that he ought to sit, if he cared to. "I don't know if you're the only one," he indicated offhand, looking to the door again, "but I figure we should at least get one or two more. So we'll wait for them, I don't really want to explain more than once." His voice was an average baritone, but it clearly reflected stress and worry. His features, what little could be made out of them, showed the same signs; he was not a happy man. It clearly wasn't poverty that did this, his clothes said that much, and indeed Claudius thought he perhaps recognized this man. Not someone he knew well, but rather the owner of a rather successful food shipping operation, one that brought food from the fields of coastal Africa.

Presumably, then, he'd pay well. Claudius knew from experience that men of his type paid well, or at least were capable of doing so. And if they were capable of paying well, they could be... convinced to do so.

Nonus nodded to the newcomer, indicating that he join Claudius on the bench in the corner. "I'll give it another few minutes," Nonus told them, watching the door. Five or six minutes later, he shook his head. "It looks like we're not getting anyone else out here, so... I guess I'll start the explanation." He licked his lips and sat back. "Sorry if I don't get this out straight, but I'm kinda nervous, y'know, this is something, uh, important to me."

"I suppose you probably know who I am, but in case you don't recognize me, the name's Nonus Caelinus," he told the two men. That was enough, if they hadn't caught on; he was a fairly big man around town. Though neither were actually natives, they had spent some time here, or at least long enough to know the kind of men they'd be contracting from.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this down low, by the way," he added. "I don't really want anyone else... finding out about this. See, the problem is..." He hesitated, as if deciding how to phrase it. "The problem is my daughter's been kidnapped by... by Thapsus. Not Thapsorum," he added, "not by individuals. By the city-state itself." This was somewhat unusual; city-states rarely bothered attacking individuals, especially if it might provoke war with another city-state or even one of the camps. If they were to declare war, they'd just do so.

"Her name is Pomona," Nonus continued after a moment, watching them for reactions as the details sank in. "She's fifteen, she's... well, she's tough, but she's been kidnapped, y'know?" he added, shrugging helplessly. "I have pictures, here, that we had taken just a week ago." Nonus handed a copy of a picture to each of the two men; in the picture was Nonus and a girl who looked no older than twelve. She resembled her father, in that she was not terribly heavy, her features were without hard corners, and her hair was a similar shade, so far as the lighting of the facility and the monochrome texture of the picture allowed distinction.

Nonus waited until they had finished examining the pictures. "Keep those, I can't tell you much else," he told them. "I don't think she'll cause trouble, she's a very good child. Shouldn't be a bother to you at all," he added. "Is there... is there anything else you need to know?"

Nonus hesitated, then reached into his jacket and produced a letter, which he handed to Felix. "This is the ransom note I got," he told them. "They want ten grand for her. I can't... actually make that payment right now, or I probably already would have."

The letter itself read: "Nonus, I have your daughter. I'm sorry it came to this. Ten thousand dollars within a month or something happens. I'm sure I don't have to elaborate on that. You know how to reach me. Give me a call or just show up in person. Thapsus is always gladly accepting guests.

Let this be a lesson to he who plays with fire.

-Horatius"

Nonus waited until they had both read it. "We had some dealings, he and I," he explained. "Obviously we did, I was purchasing from his people and he got in there and messed with things. I got together with the other end and we both told him to back off, he had no legal right, and then he shut us down, and then..." Nonus shrugged, his face twisting into a wry smile. "Here we are.

"Oh, and I should tell you what I can pay you. I can promise at least $2,000 each, that should keep you both running for quite a while, depending on your expenses obviously." In short, Nonus was offering the kind of money for this one task that they would expect to accumulate over a year.

"Hold on now, no," Felix interjected, his hand slicing the air in front of them. "That's not all there is to it. We have to be reasonable here."

Felix obviously felt a lot of suspicion about the amount of the payment, if this was really a simple job. There must be some kind of consequence or trap involved.

"What business did you have with these people? What do they do, and why do they have the resources to do this? Something doesn't smell right."

The taller man among them gave Felix the sort of look one might give a brick wall while slowly ensuring the new paint on it dried. He listened to the ensuing exchange, then nodded with a grunt. "Where is she? We breaking into a jail?"

Yeah, it was weird that one man had pissed off a whole government, but honestly, who cared? It was money. With money came food, water, and the occasional item of luxury. In short, money bought happiness. End of story.

As long as I know I'm getting paid
In this life that matters more than death
I follow to my dying breath
And whatever crap you may decree
As long as I know you're paying me

That's the way I want to be saved
As long as I know I'm getting paid
Whatever my word is worth in trade
As long as I know I'm getting paid
As long as I know I'm getting paid