Stratson took a sip of her whiskey, set it down, and gave the bartender a glare that clearly indicated if he watered down the next one, he would be wearing his ass for a hat. She then turned to her client, who was only slightly less disagreeable.
"Where is he? I paid you good money three weeks ago, and now your sitting here in my front yard spending it with nothing to show."
"I assure you, this is money from other jobs I'm spending right now. Yours has become untenable."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. The SOB is hiding in a New Birmingham Parish. They don't recognize outside jurisdictions, especially not on behalf of female bounty hunters coming after men."
"So that's it? He hides amongst some bible thumpers, and gets away clean?"
"Looks, its about a fifty-fifty chance that any given haven of city state will be willing to export a criminal if you say so. Vegas has evidence requirements that are often hard to meet, though they relax a bit if you become bonded and join up with their state. No one gets into Tesla, so its not a problem. NEST doesn't care so long as you don't tear up too much - but trying to hunt someone in one of those places is nigh impossible if you aren't trained for it - which once again, requires a certain degree of citizenship. Random settlements - some like to be on the good side of the law, others feel that can't give up anyone who has seemingly useful skills. I can and will negotiate with those guys. But down South - down South they have their own way. He causes any trouble, it won't be pretty. They have their own hunters group to deal with people who try to duck town. But unless your hamlet agrees to join their for lack of better term - nation - no luck. I even look at one of their citizens the wrong way, and I can get in trouble."
"And you can't..."
"We went over that when you hired me. I'm not an assassin - I'm here for justice, not vengeance."
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