Chapter One

"Mr. Mathewson, it'd like you to meet a dear friend of mine. This is Steven, the young fella' I was tellin' you about the other day - he's interested to apply for the job you're offering."

Smuggling - Jordan thought - was not something he thought a young university graduate would be interested in, especially one who came from a exceptionally wealthy family upside, who he was told, sent him money every week at the minimum of a thousand dollars.

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ze," Jordan said with a half-smile, as he shook the young man's hand firmly, noticing the boy was shaking like a leaf. "But I'm not entirely sure why you want to be employed into this… business. Mr. Fontaine isn't looking for slackers, and no offence, but rich boys are usually not up to getting their hands dirty."

Steven, or Ze - as he preferred to be called by his last name - shook his head at this assumption, looking slightly offended at the previous comment. "Mr. Mathewson-"

"Jordan."

"-Jordan, then," Ze corrected, feeling rather unprofessional calling his possible future boss by his first name. "Mr. Fontaine don't need to worry about me slacking, I've never slacked a day in my life - I work hard, and I get the job done, I can assure you that. Peach can back me up on this, he's known me my entire life, you ought to believe him more than me."

Peach Wilkins, an older man who had been run off his position as 'lead' smuggler by Jordan himself - and whom had also apparently lost his 'marbles' nodded in conformation, "The boy is right there, Jordan. He stuck in at University, so I'm sure he'll stick in at this."

Jordan took a deep breath, and pondered on his thought for a seconds - praying to God that he was going to make the right decision, because if he ended up hiring another fucking good-for-nothing, then Frank Fontaine sure as hell wouldn't be happy, "Well…" He trailed off then grinned at the kid, "I'm sure will be pleased to hear that you're joining us."

"Are you serious? God, you don't know how much this means to me, I…."

"You better not make me regret this, kid. I'm literally putting my life on the line and if you fuck up even one smuggling operation I swear to God, I'll hang ya' in the middle of Neptune's Bounty for all to see."

Ze's eyes widened and he swallowed the lump in his throat, as he ran a hand through his curled hair, "I won't fuck anything up, Sir. I promise."

"Good, good," Jordan nodded, before raising an eyebrow and looking down at the boy's semi-exposed wrists. "Do you splice?"

"Do I what, Sir?"

"God, Wilkins, I thought you would have educated the kid by now. Have you taken any plasmids yet?" He rephrased the question, in hope of at least a honest answer.

"Plasmids? Oh no, Mr-" Ze stopped, then continued. "-Jordan, I'm not into the whole needle thing."

"Good. I hope it stays that way, those things are… well, you'll see for yourself." Jordan smirked as a soft whistle blew in the distance, making his head turn slightly - his red hat almost falling off his head at the sudden movement. "Shit, I need to go back. But I'll see you on Monday, eight am sharp, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir. I hear you."

Jordan nodded and placed a hand on Ze's shoulder, giving him a soft shake and smirking even more as a sharp, pained scream came from somewhere in the area, followed by maniac laughter and the sound of a drill smashing against a wall. "Oh, and kid…"

"Yes?"

"Welcome to Rapture."