Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Charcoal]

Bryan had successfully off loaded another coupple of crates of Malta's finest orange dream to some hopeless, brainless fool down by the docks. Well, at least that's what the foolish drug mule thought had happened. Little did he realize that only the presentation bag held the genuine article. The rest of the crates was nothing more then some baking soda and some stuff to give it just the right texture and colour. Each crate also contained trace ammounts of a rare radioactive isotope used specifically to track the movements of each load. He was a gonner, that much was evident. His buyers on Manhattan were sure to off him as soon as the rest of his merchandise was tested. But Bryan was more interested in how the stuff was getting through customs, and such was his mission.

Bryan enters the bar and takes a seat at one of the empty tables. Tonight was a celebration of sorts, but was also a chance to unwind, to be relaxed and ready for the next part of his plan...