John Cater set at his desk, trying to stay calm. He was known for his quiet reactions, in the world that he traveled in, you had to be feared. Cater had learned that if you lose it every time, they call you a hot head. Loose it too few, and they call you a wimp. His response was to react with a quiet, but dramatic flair.
He pulled out his best knife, and thrust it at the the door. He looked at his lieutenants and said, “100,000 to the one that delivers this to the Sea Horse and brings him to me bleeding.” This was his way of telling them that he wasn’t happy and they needed to do something quickly.
John Cater was important in this city, he made things happen. His nickname reflected it. “The Caterer” saw to it that the big boys got what they wanted, whether in politics or in the less smiled upon circles outside the law.
The fact that he loved knives, swords, and blades of any kind helped. He was tall, average looking, brown hair, brown eyes, cheap suit. He could afford more, but that wasn’t something you advertised in his profession. That is, if you wanted to live to enjoy it.
His one luxury was his car, a silver Mercedes with special features. No one touched his car. The only person allowed to drive it was Nelson Cater, his brother. People would sooner break their leg than dent his vehicle, they had learned from experience.
That’s why the next thing that happened was so disturbing to the Caterer. An explosion went off just as he pulled the knife from the door. Sitting among the charred remains, in the middle of the parking spot, was a knife. The knife wasn’t much to see, but it was memorable nonetheless. Cater recognized it, it was the knife that had killed Norm Silva.
Wrapped around the blade was a note that read. “It’s your knife Cater, even though you didn’t kill him. I’m getting closer to proving who did, and I intend to take you to jail with her.” The note was a print out with The Sea Horse’s symbol as a signature.
They drug the incensed man kicking and screaming back into his office. The Caterer had lost his cool. The Sea Horse smiled from his hiding place. Now they would start to make mistakes, and he would take them down one at a time.