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The Darkness - Jason Pinter [74]

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that got you in?" Morgan asked.

"My uncle," he said. "Used to use. Never dealt, but got

friendly with one of his dealers. I used to be a major

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pothead, and I started buying from his guy after my uncle

quit. Pretty soon I couldn't afford to buy, so my man

asked if I was going through tough times. I told him what

had happened, and he offered to make an introduction for

me. I'm not above this. To me, it's all the same whether

you're selling junk, real estate or stocks. In the end you're

giving something to somebody that they think will make

them happier. And whether it's financial, emotional or

chemical happiness, who the hell are we to judge? Are

the people who get strung out on dope any worse than

people like me who lose everything on some bad bets? I

figure if I can do something to get myself out of this

mess and make some coin, why not?"

"I know what you mean," Morgan said.

"I bet you do."

Theo and Morgan got off the train at Twenty-third and

Park and headed east. The Manhattan neighborhood of

Gramercy tended to be full of young professionals who

enjoyed the area's local bars (both dive and trendy).

Morgan used to come here often for the movie theater at

Kips Bay, and noticed that over the last few years the

population appeared to grow a little more affluent, likely

due to doctors working at Bellevue and small business

owners who moved into vacated storefronts.

They walked side by side, matching briefcases slung

over their shoulders. If anybody looked at them, it was

only because they might have been slightly jealous that

two younger guys had weathered the economic storm,

as that could be the only explanation for their attire and

accessories.

Morgan took out the cell phone from his coat pocket.

It was old, nearly an antique, and he was amazed that this

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Jason Pinter

piece of junk still even worked. Still, Leonard had given

it to them for a reason.

Right after they'd packed up their briefcases with

specific quantities of various drugs, Leonard had given

them each a cell phone. And this was how it worked.

Before they left the warehouse/club, they'd be given

an address. The address was of their first customer of

the day. The customer had called somebody, probably

some sort of switchboard at another location, and

placed an order. That order was relayed to one of the

courier teams, who were then dispatched to the

location. The customer would also have placed an order

and they were also quoted a price. Once arriving at the

location, Leonard said, they would make the transaction

with the customer.

Once leaving the customer's address, they would call

the number programmed in the cell phone as Home.

After confirming the deal, they would be sent a text

message with the address of their next transaction, as

well as the price quoted to the customer for whatever

they'd requested.

Obviously there would be a little flexibility, as sometimes the customer would buy more than they'd initially

requested. And sometimes, of course, they would buy

less, often because the customer didn't have enough

money to pay for the goods.

It was a regular business, Leonard said.

All orders would be kept track of, and Leonard's

people also knew the exact quantities of drugs given to

the couriers as well as their value. At the end of the day,

Leonard said, just like any other business they would

make sure the goods matched the receipts, and confirm

that all the money was handed over.

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Assuming Theo and Morgan were honest, they would

have no problems. If there were ever any payment issues,

or they'd taken in more (or less) money than expected,

all they had to do was relay the information.

The quicker they worked the more money they made,

the more stops they'd be able to hit during the day. You

wanted to take a two-hour lunch? Your take would suffer.

Get caught in traffic? Tough shit.

The only people who moved up in this world were the

ones who fully dedicated themselves. You want vacation

days? You got 'em. Only your creditors don't really

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