The bar is in it's normal state of affairs. Dim, dingy, and decrepit. That grizzled old bartender is still standing around pretending not to overhear bits and pieces of conversations. Wasn't too long ago I made a sudden reappearance here. A few were happy to see me, most are pretty upset I'm back. This time there's no need to hide my face. While the need to hide my identity is gone, I would still like to keep this meeting private. “Bottle of the top shelf whiskey, an two glasses” I tell the bartender as I walk past the bar. As I head to a booth in the back I shout “Bring em back here, an keep yer eyes open fer a feller by the name of Loyd. Havin a meetin with one of them new 'Young Guns' what calls themselves Junkers.”
