Snippet #2496040

Bachmann burst into his apartment, immediately heading for his bedroom. The Jewish man was like a gust of wind, he practically dived under his bed. He pulled from under it a shoe box, it was bright orange and bore a logo. It wasn't exactly something one would give a second glass if they were casing the place.

He tossed the box up onto his bed, opening it up to reveal at least two dozen cellphones. Bachmann grabbed one at random, flipping it open and immediately dialing in a number.

Bachmann waited impatiently for someone to answer, eyes perking up when he heard a hello.

"Hey! It's me. The Yakuza found me, I'll slide some cash your way if you help me deal with them. Plus, you get to destroy a rival and possibly anyone else in your way here." Bachmann said to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"I was hoping you would ask." The man on the other side of the phone told Bachmann, his Russian accent evident. "Hire a little local protection. We'll be there in a few hours." The man said, hanging up.