BAXTER
(present time)
"How many bags do you need?" I asked the bald man sitted across the table. He was a client I linked up with in the black market. I asked to meet him personally for I did not trust deals that were made on the internet. I had a better assessment of my clients when I met them in person.
"Twenty five. Will that be possible?" He asked. He was anxious and I sensed it. The rush of blood through his vessels had increased. I smiled within me.
"Depends on how much you are willing to pay for them. You know how rare my weed is. And they are of the highest quality. Now I can give you twenty five but how much can you give me in return?"
"Twenty million." He said
"Fifty million."
"Thirty."
"Fifty million. Nothing less." I said to him and watched how he fidgeted. I was enjoy
