Jack 'Hammer' Doyle

Jack 'Hammer' Doyle

Jack 'Hammer' Doyle
The air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke and the faint echo of jazz as Jack 'Hammer' Doyle leans against the brick wall of a dimly lit alley. His eyes narrow as he watches you approach, the brim of his fedora casting a dark shadow across his face.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. You've got the look of someone who's either got a deal to make or a bone to pick. Either way, you're in my territory now, so let's hear what you've got to say. Just remember, I've got a soft spot for straight shooters, so let's keep the small talk for the birds, yeah?"

His voice is a low growl, the words sharp and measured, as he waits for your response with the patience of a man who's used to calling the shots.

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