Brian Gleckman decided not to even bother with his normal duties at the Boundary Run. He instead called in some extra help, then locked himself into his pitiful office in the back. He sat down into the old, worn chair he had become so used to, then crossed his arms and let out a long, slow exhale.
One more day of this and he was off to Tahiti. Just one more shipment. No more worries about being busted for smuggling contraband, no more worries about overzealous runners ripping off with his loot. And most thankfully, no more hawking fishing lures to clueless out-of-state tourists.
Unfortunately, things were not moving as smoothly as he would have liked. There had been security leaks, resulting in murders and car bombs. The client was understandably getting antsy. Gleckman could relate.
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