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This was proving to be one of the most arduous and drawn out cases Billy had been on in a long while. Though he tried to not let his mind wander to the impossible and the what-could-have-been, he found himself wishing more and more he'd chose a different agency when coming to the states. At least the CIA got to see the world. Even if he couldn't return home, he could still see Germany and France and hell, even North Korea had to be better than the shittiest ratholes in southern California.
But he was in deep. He'd built his cover for quite a while and was finally starting to make headway. There was no turning back now. His cover was Colin. Mimicking his own life story of having needed to escape Manchester after some shady dealings and wasn't exactly legal in the states. So he was trying to elbow in on the Oxy market in the city. The goal was to get enough attention to find out who the big names were. Make himself appealing to the upper tiers so they'd want to bring him in rather than shut him down.
So far, he'd made it as far as a mid-level dealer named Kelly. It was past midnight and they'd found some shitty alley to have a chat in. Kelly was leaned back against the wall, looking as though he'd picked up his idea of fashion from the 1970's and never updated. While Billy himself looked like he was a bit more updated, a worn trucker's cap pulled low over his eyes, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Kelly was on some lecture about how to go after one's goals. How to choose which things to choose. "What I'm sayin' is that you gotta make sure the juice is worth the squeeze. You know what I mean?"
"...the juice." Billy deadpanned, keeping up his British accent.
"Yeah. The juice. The product." He made a gesture that implied such a thing were a woman, not some intangible idea.
Billy had the strong impression that Kelly's goals had never been moving Oxy. The fallback because of some other, even shadier venture had fallen through.
But he was in deep. He'd built his cover for quite a while and was finally starting to make headway. There was no turning back now. His cover was Colin. Mimicking his own life story of having needed to escape Manchester after some shady dealings and wasn't exactly legal in the states. So he was trying to elbow in on the Oxy market in the city. The goal was to get enough attention to find out who the big names were. Make himself appealing to the upper tiers so they'd want to bring him in rather than shut him down.
So far, he'd made it as far as a mid-level dealer named Kelly. It was past midnight and they'd found some shitty alley to have a chat in. Kelly was leaned back against the wall, looking as though he'd picked up his idea of fashion from the 1970's and never updated. While Billy himself looked like he was a bit more updated, a worn trucker's cap pulled low over his eyes, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Kelly was on some lecture about how to go after one's goals. How to choose which things to choose. "What I'm sayin' is that you gotta make sure the juice is worth the squeeze. You know what I mean?"
"...the juice." Billy deadpanned, keeping up his British accent.
"Yeah. The juice. The product." He made a gesture that implied such a thing were a woman, not some intangible idea.
Billy had the strong impression that Kelly's goals had never been moving Oxy. The fallback because of some other, even shadier venture had fallen through.
