Market Surplus

[Petitioner]

Gatz nodded. "I do. Please, sit down."

Gatz gestured at one of the two, smaller, swivel chairs in front of his desk, both bound in black synth leather, as he sat back down himself and cracked his knuckles.

"I understand that you're looking to serve clients who are perhaps a bit harder to reach for Detroit, given that the spotlight of commerce and tax collection is constantly shining on us."

Fattore nodded, and Gatz continued.

"Having been in a similar situation before, I must first commend you for your enterprising spirit. Regardless, I can't commit to any sort of... understanding, with you, before receiving some sort of assurance that, wherever any Detroit products which happen to wind up in your hands go -- which, of course, is something we'd rather not know, if possible -- it won't eventually come around and trip us up from behind, if you catch my meaning.
It only pays to be careful in our business, you see."

His cautionary spiel over, Gatz then leaned back and took a sip of coffee from the large thermos on his desk, awaiting Fattore's response.