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“No, a checkbook for one of my accounts” I responded. “Oh yeah, that’s probably the other reason I don’t go cash a check. Not that I would if you sent a book of checks, but, when I never used them, this place quit sending them. They are just another thing to burn when I quit being someone.”
“Hotels are all booked on-line with someone’s credit card. Usually one for a paper shell company. When I’m a business traveler I eat in a touristy type place and tell them I need an extra copy of the receipt for my expense report. Alone, if the hotel has food, I eat there and charge it to the room. Unless I need to buy tools for a job, the cash is just bottles of soda and fast food. Everything else is on the fake plastic.”
Looking at Pretty Little Thing I said “I assume someone back here, much like yourself, nets it all out.”
“One of your accounts does a transaction with one of our businesses, yes, but we don’t send someone to the bank to get cash. We pull that out of the drawer at the nearest company owned restaurant or from one of our drug dealer stashes.”
“Drug dealer stashes?” asked Stretch as he re-entered the room.
“Kids these days” I chuckled. They all looked at me.
“We get hired to kill drug dealers” said Slim. “You mean we have our own?”
“Nooo, not that I know of” I responded. “Back when I started, drug dealers used to always have bails of cash lying around. They sent us on a job and gave us duffel bags. After we did the job we filled the bags. If we happened to also have a back pack we could fill that for ourselves as long as we carried out the required amount of duffels. It’s not really like that today with kids buying drugs on their idiot phones, paying with Bitcoin or some other electric money. But, piles of cash scattered around the globe come in handy. I’m surprised they have any left.”
“I don’t know how many still exist” she offered. “I’ll either know or be dead in the next couple of weeks so get out of here.”
“Rachel’s good?” she asked Stretch.
“Here’s the number she wants you to contact” responded Stretch while handing her a yellow sticky. She has the number from the sticky you gave me.
“Old Timer” opened Slim. “No disrespect, but how long have you been at this?”
“Thirty years tomorrow” responded Pretty Little Thing. “The reason I was given for his being brought in was to give him a bonus, pat on the back and ask him when he thought he might give up the life.”
“That would be the way ordinary people phrase retirement” offered Stretch. Shock and realization showed on Pretty Little Thing’s face.
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