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Greg awoke as the plane touched down on a grassy airfield outside New York city. Blinking a few times, he looked around. Thankfully at this time of night, nobody was around. He wasn't about to leave his Groza in the plane, and not have it close by if need be later, but compact as it was, it was typically bad policy to openly carry an automatic weapon with a grenade launcher in civilized, populated, parts of the world.
"Right, catcha later Will, and tell Santiago I'm sorry I couldn't be there to deliver the goods in person. I don't think he'll really mind, I get the impression he doesn't like me much anyways.... Don't tell him that. Just the part about not being there."
Hopping out of the plane, he made his way over to a gravel lot that contained a couple of cars that belonged to various people that used the airport, including a four-door sedan he left in the lot pretty much all the time, much to the annoyance of the guy that owned the airport, as he could tell by the angry note left under the windshield wipers.
Popping open the trunk he tossed in his rifle, the sling, and extra magazines of ammo he carried. He wasn't parting with his sidearm, as it was inconspicuous enough to keep holstered at his side without drawing too much attention. Hopping into the car, he began the drive into the city, and down to the docks where this convention of sorts was taking place. He never could understand why they didn't just host these events out in the middle of nowhere, instead of trying to hide in populated areas. Perhaps it was because the vast, untamed, secluded frontiers weren't so vast, or secluded anymore, which was a shame in it's own way. Pulling up to the location, he got out, and began meandering about, perusing the various wares in stock, while keeping an eye out for anyone from the Union. Apparently one of their subsidiaries, or whatever, he never really bothered to pay attention to how the organizational structure of their group worked, had some interesting things to show off.

Vincent looked to both Leila and Snow as they spoke, nodding along slightly as they warned and cautioned him about his actions. Then, he smirked just a little as started to reply. "My 'allies' have no idea they'll be my allies yet, not all of them at least. My primary allies are the people, and it should be noted that lately, people across the world have been getting a lot less pleased with the current powers that be. Certainly I'll need to gain allies from other governments and such, but right now the primary concern is dealing with this UN situation, then getting further support from the people."

Clearing his throat a bit as he took another sip, Vincent looked more to Snow now. "This is somewhat different than chess. In chess, you have to predict your opponents moves. In real life, if you're good enough, you can control your opponents moves. Of course, this is something that I'm going to have to be vague on yet again. I can tell you though that there's already two kids playing with these embers... I just happen to be the person that puts a little gas on before they decide to." There was a silence for a moment as Vincent thought more to himself. "I know the risks, better than most if you can believe that. That's why when I play with fire, I bring a hose." Vincent looked to both Snow and Leila for a moment. "Things are going to get tense soon I believe, but trust me, they were going to anyways. I just happen to be the wildcard in all of this." With another quiet pause, Vincent looked out the window again and gazed over New York's skyline. "Ah yes, that reminds me of something. You called me earlier Snow, was that about the UN, or something else?"

Leila stuck her tongue out at Snow when he told her about frown lines. She didn't care. She liked to think about things. She stayed silent as Vincent talked and sighed; shaking her head. Two rounds of silence when Vincent asked Snow about his phone call.

Leila was watching Snow carefully. Her eyes widened and she was by his side the moment he fell to the floor. "Geez...Snow..." she muttered and checked his pulse. He was getting feverish and clammy to her and went to look through her bag. "I left it..." she sighed and looked to Vincent. "Can you help me get him onto the sofa or an extra bed if you've got one here. He can't be on the floor." she said going into action quickly."

Greg had moseyed over to the group of people that surrounded the test area in time for the 'presentation'. While his curiosity was peaked by the rifle's design, a bullet designed to be more accurate at the cost of penetration in this day and age bothered him, at least when he kept in mind the type of people he'd end up selling the weapons to. Sure, most of them were lightly trained, so anything to increase the odds of their shots hitting the target was worth considering. However, most modern forces were decked out in all sorts of protective gear, thus creating a need for a penetrating round. At any rate, $130,000 a crate limited the people he could potentially sell to significantly, so he decided to pass. Perhaps he would take note of whoever did decide to spring on the chance to purchase the rifles, and intercept the shipments. In the meantime however, he continued to silently wait for the Barrus rifles he'd heard so much about.