"Good man, #724," Teja said with a rumble. He understood what CD was implying. He considered his options as he took a seat, picking the grit under his own nails with this thumbnail. Any old group of shitheads would be disastrous in a situation like this, they'd cause more suspicion and trouble than the idea was worth, but if Teja called in Gunnar, maybe Ivo, to come to work with CD, they'd get the job done quietly, efficiently, and might actually get results. The chances of them finding anyone in the shanty town was slim, but it would only be slimmer with the uninitiated chaos of a group of fresh meat.
"Belay that," His voice was low and hushed, though by no means conspiring. He sounded strangely calm. The fact that he did called beyond a reasonable doubt the fact that he himself was out for blood, though only those who knew him well would understand that calm meant anything but, "I'll call #0711 and #1566. They have good taste, they might be able to help you with finding something good to eat. Just save some for our boss if you do, he's going to want a taste." More than a taste, Teja figured. When Charles found out, he knew, the man would want to carve them up personally and feed them to his menagerie.
"You have my cell if you see anything good. Don't plan for it, though, at this time of night? That place runs out of options. Food's scarce, but the morning brings a damn good set of options," He knew the culprits would at least try to lay low at first, if they knew what was good for them.