Breaking bad - The Branch Of The Family We Don't Talk About.
C1 - My Name Is Jason White
Jason White's P.O.V
My name is Jason White, and I have a pretty screwed up family. Of course, I never figured that out until March 2014. On the Fifth of November -my birthday- 2011, my father killed my mother in an attempt to kill me in a car crash. The past four years I had to find my way back onto the island of Tsun, a save haven for supernatural freaks like myself and build up my arsenal of knowledge and weapons to go on the hunt for Angel White.
I never knew about the White family in Albuquerque, that was up until I looked through some of Angel's old documents and found a phone number. When traced, I found an address in the US where Walter White lived. Walter was supposedly my uncle of all things, a chemist according to the records working with a production company.
What I found when I did a little bit of stalking was a man, devoid of common sense, suffering with terminal cancer and had a strange penchant for going too and from a large industrial laundry building. I didn't believe I found the right man until I saw him enter the address that the phone number was linked to.
There I was, waiting in the front seat of a car that cost $120 that hadn't been cleaned in 5 years, hoping that I'd found the right man and hadn't wasted 4 days chasing a dead lead. However, I was willing to do anything to find Angel, even if it meant hunting him down to Alaska.
Even if Walter knew nothing about Angel, I had to try, for the sake of Mom's tortured soul, it was worth it.
I took a breath of stale air from the car to steel my nerves, hating every second I was in the damned thing. Eventually I formed the courage to lift the dossier from the passenger foot well and climb out of the black Honda Accord.
After shutting the car door and locking it, I patted myself down to make sure that I was still carrying my Browning Hi Power just in case. It had become a necessity in those days to carry a pistol, too many people wanted my head on a stake for me to not carry the polished Nine-Millimeter around.
I reached into my leather vest and took out the badge that the NSA had given me, it was a pardon in a way. Police had no power over me with the badge as it was a right of passage from Tsun to the US. That was more useful than the Hi Power as I didn't need to kill anyone to be left alone, I would have to flash it at a cop and they'd forget about me. The idea was it was a concealed carry permit and a drivers license in one, kind of like a VIP badge. No agency could fuck with me so long as I had the badge.
I switched it to the pocket of my black jeans as I began walking towards the front door of Walter White's house. It was at that point that something hit me, something that should have been at the front of my mind the entire time.
I was 15 and 5ft 2" meaning he would never take me seriously, but that was why I had the dossier. It was also why I had a white knuckle grip on the damned thing, losing it would mean having to start from square one with my hunt.
My mind cleared when I got to the front door, a stained wooden door with a simple Yale lock. Easy to pick, hard to leave a trace behind, something that I took a mental note of when I knocked on the door.
After three swift knocks, I looked at the alarm box above the door. It was made by an old company that had gone out of business years ago, another easy bypass to get in the house. It was a wonder they never had a break in, however based on the neighborhood, no-one really got robbed anyway.
So in short, I could easily break into the house at a later date and steal some documents if he had them and at the lowest chance of being shot of any robbery I'd done before.
My train of thought was broken by the wooden door opening pretty quickly. Walter White was stood there.
Beige was the word to describe him up close, everything about him just screamed retirement, even if his activities didn't.
"Yes?" He asked calmly, even though I could see he was flustered. His mouth hung open slightly as though I'd caught him in the middle of something.
"Walter White?" I asked.
"Who's asking?" He stayed calm.
"...Jason White, Angel's son." I hesitated, Angel's name usually struck fear into those who knew him, his brother would no doubt be afraid.
The guy looked at me closely, he took in the detail of my face, the feint scar across my left eye and right side of my jaw. More so, he took in my blue eyes, realised that something was wrong.
"Angel and his wife didn't have blue eyes." He still looked at me.
"It's possible, if you were a biologist instead of a chemist you might know that." I spoke flippantly.
"How did you know I'm a chemist?" He narrowed his eyes slightly behind the large wire framed glasses.
"I've been following you for some time now. I was hoping that you could give me some information about Angel." I asked politely.
He looked at me in fear, as though I knew something I shouldn't. That sparked something in me, the smell on his clothes gave it away. I'd destroyed more than enough of them to know what a meth lab smelt like.
"Go, before I call the police." He snapped before he tried to close the door.
I put my boot in the way to stop the door slamming shut. He tried but he couldn't close the door any harder against my foot.
"Mr White, if anyone should call the police it would be me." I gave him my most intimidating look, the kind that told people you had dirt on them that they themselves didn't know about.
He received my message and slowly he opened the door and invited me into his home. I stepped in, giving Walter clearance to shut the door again.
"What do you know?" He asked as calmly as an accused man could.
"That your clothes smell like a..." I caught myself, before I realised that even though no-one else was in the house, wire taps could easily be placed.
"Lab." I finished, feeling exposed.
Walter looked defeated, as if I'd crashed his whole deal on top of his head.
"Don't worry, we're both criminals then." I lightened up, patting his arm.
Walter nodded, figuring if I knew something I would have already gone to the DEA. If I wanted to do that, I would have done it as soon as he'd given me what he knew about Angel.
He moved from the front door and walked over to the kitchen.
"Do you take coffee or is it tea?" He joked, the shape of my eyes gave away my Chinese heritage.
"Neither, thank you." I followed him into his kitchen.
We sat down at the table in the kitchen, he had many papers spread out all over the table.
Tests...
Everyone hates tests...
"Nice to know that someone in the family uses science for good." I joked, noting that everything was chemistry related.
"What do you mean by that, what's Angel been doing?" Walt asked, seeming concerned.
"You haven't heard?" I wondered, realising that it was dumb question to ask.
Walter shook his head, waiting for me to give him some information.
"Angel..." I began, not knowing how to phrase his path of destruction.
"He killed Mom in 2011, but he was trying to kill me." I began.
Walter looked sympathetically at me, not what I needed at that time.
"Since then he's found his way to weave himself into my life and rip it apart bit by bit... I bet he never told you about his third did he?" I trailed away.
"Yes, he named him Luke didn't he?" Walt asked.
I nodded in an attempt to get him to go on.
"I remember he brought him here... what was it... 10 years ago? Only a baby then, he had the greenest eyes I've ever seen and a head full of hair. Almost makes me jealous." Walter smiled as he recollected the time Angel visited him.
Instantly I reached into the file and pulled out a file I named 'rebirth' and found a picture of Luke to give to Walt.
"That's him there." I spoke kindly, not happy about what I had to say next.
Walt took the photo and inspected it, smiling at Luke's confused face. Luke had never seen a camera before then, that was his 10th birthday.
"Huh... Look at that... Did Angel do that?" Walt showed me the photo and pointed at Luke's tattooed skin.
"No." I sighed, pulling my own sleeves back.
Walter gazed at my scarred wrists more than he did my tattoos, but he saw them nevertheless.
"It's a natural process, Mom's genes in all of us." I explained.
Walter didn't understand, but that was his human side. Even I didn't know why they were there, they burned themselves into my skin one day as bands. After going back to my birthplace and mother's tribe, they'd contorted into flames on my left arm and mountains on my right. Mine were blue whereas Luke's were green, like his eyes.
I then took out the photos of an underground testing facility that Angel had built with his company's billions of dollars and slid them to Walter.
"That's the place Luke spent nine years of his life. Courtesy of Angel." I sighed.
Again, Walt inspected the photos with further, shocked at the news.
"Why?" He asked.
"So he could figure out what gives Luke and I our powers." I explained as I rolled my sleeves down.
"What powers?" Walt scoffed.
The steaming cup of coffee on the table was a good example, something easy and not to taxing on my system.
"Put your finger in this." I ordered.
Walt just looked at me before he put his palm on the side of the cup and recoiled slightly.
"It's still hot, why?" He asked.
Before I answered, I picked the cup up with my right hand and thought of freezing the steaming hot coffee. Two seconds later, it was frozen solid. Walter didn't know what I'd done so I put the cup over my head and tried to pour it all over myself which wouldn't happen anyway. It didn't stop Walter raising his voice in disagreement as I did so.
"I can freeze things and set them on fire if I had to." I set the cup back down.
"Luke can... Well, Luke can move things with his mind." I sat back in the chair as I explained.
He picked up the cup, his hand shaking as he did..
"He was here." He put the cup back down firmly.
"The house?" I wondered.
Walt shook his head and stared at his frozen coffee again.
"No, he came to the school where I work. That's all I know." He looked me in the eyes.
I'd been lied to most my life, I didn't need Walt doing it. The benefit of working for lairs
"Walt, I work for a mafia. I can smell bullshit before you even say it. What did he want?" I lowered my voice as I stood up.
Walt looked outside the window, he too lowered his voice and his volume.
"He came close to me, trying to blackmail my family and I."
The front door opened, shocking the both of us. Quickly I defrosted the cup of coffee before they saw it and sussed something. A young blonde woman and a disabled kid walked through the door. I didn't want to get too attached to the extended family, but it looked as if it was too late.
"Walte- Who's this?" She asked, looking as if I'd just been caught drinking Walter's blood or something.
"Skyler, this is my nephew. He came down from..." He turned to me.
"Tsun Island, J White." I introduced myself, nodding towards my 'aunt' and cousin.
She looked at me as if she was trying to find something that wasn't on display, almost as if she was trying to see into my soul or something. My cousin was on crutches, my first guess was cerebal paulsy but it looked less damaging so Aspergers was a better guess.
"You know my dad?" He asked.
"Yes, he's my uncle." I explained again kindly.
"My name's Walter Jr, nice to meet you." He extended a shaky hand which I took to shake.
Skyler walked over to us to see that she had missed something in her original staring phase.
"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" She saw the scar across my eye, she seemed to be more sensative to things like this.
"Let's just say my dad wasn't very nice. It's why I came here, I thought Walter would know where he is." I explained, not reveailing the real reason I was looking for Dad.
"Angel was like that? I didn't know that." Walter began
"He was, still is too from what I've seen. He's taken quite a chunck out of my life, all I want is to find him so that he can tell me why he did these things to me." I was covering my tracks, doing my best to keep it clean.
"You're Walt's nephew? That means you're Junior's cousin right?" She began looking towards Junior.
In Junior I began to see signs of Asperger's syndrome, the way his lips moved and how his facial structure didn't really match his parents' structures. We were related and it wasn't because of his condition that I didn't want much to do with them, it was my condition.
"Yes. I wouldn't get too aquainted though." I started, but was distracted by the sound of engines outside.
"Why's that?" Junior interuptted me.
"Because I work with people that would put holes in people I care about." I explained as I began to look out the window for the sound of engines.
The DEA were here, they'd come to see what I was doing. The doors opened, a big bald fuck got out the car and began walking towards the house. I began looking in the back of my mind for his name. It began to frustrate me to no end.
"Who is that?" I sighed, narrowing my eyes as he got close.
"Hank?" Walter looked out too.
He'd got to the door, then opened it and walked in. His hands drew towards his belt, the holster on it was full. A Glock 17 most likely, my mind raced towards my own pistol in my shoulder holster. I would have been able to do them in quickly enough, the issue would come with the paper work and making it look as though they were coming after me. I focused on the fat man, ignoring his partner.
"Well, ain't you a persistent son of a bitch?" Hank nodded towards me, trying to make a joke.
"If it isn't the man who tried to stop my access to the US." I clenched my fists.
"You realise that I can throw your ass off the US before you can say 'Damn that meddling Schrader' eh?." He began to threaten me.
"NSA trumps DEA Schrader, I hope you aren't wasting time checking up on me." I almost spat venom at the prick, thinking he was high and mighty.
"No, and it's bullshit. No way you got approval from the NSA" Hank's partner chipped in.
I chuckled lightly.
"Bullshit?" I asked.
I reached into my pocket which got Hank to draw his Glock and point it at my chest. As I retrieved my hand, he lowered the pistol as he noticed the badge he attempted to deny me.
"Nope, it's there. All nice and shiny brass with that thick black leather... Looks legit." I smiled.
"Hank?" His partner asked.
Hank holstered up, narrowing his eyes at me. He shook his head, making his partner take his hand off his pistol.
"Well, seems I'm exceeding my welcome a bit." I sighed, collecting the photos quickly and putting them back in the dossier.
Before I exited the house, I turned to Walt and his family.
"Maybe we can talk when a Government agent isn't in the room, maybe get to know my family a little." I smiled.
As I turned, I waited for Hank and his partner to stop blocking the door and allow me to walk out. When they did, I gave them a little something for them to remember me by.
"See you around, Agents." I chuckled as I walked away.
Walter
That was the first time I'd met Angel's son, what was strange was how calm he was around Hank. From what he said, he was just as much as a criminal as I was.
"I hate that kid..." Hank sighed the second Jason had closed the door.
"He's family though, right?" Junior began.
"Yes, he's distant Junior." I explained.
"Should we give him a chance?" He asked, looking around.
Hank laughed raucously.
"A chance? Kid, that is a hands down scumbag. He's an arms dealer, enforcer and owns strip clubs all over the place." Hank explained.
"Though to be fair, the way he handled the drugs trade over there was better than we've done." Steve chipped in.
Skyler looked shocked to say the least.
"He deals guns and drugs?" She sighed exasperated.
Steve shook his head, realising he made a mistake.
"No, he stopped the drugs trade over on that freak show of an island. Apparently the people he works for think guns are better than drugs, although weed's still legal. Haven't had a shooting over there since the takeover though." Steve explained as Hank walked over to the kitchen table, looking at the photo of Luke and Jason that he'd left behind.
As he looked at it, he noticed the frost on the coffee cup.
"No fucking way." He snapped as he put his finger in the cup.
"Hank." Skyler sighed as he still hadn't stopped swearing around Junior.
"No Sky, look at this. There's no way that he comes here and he does this, I mean... It's impossible right? How can you freeze something just by touching it. Even that dumbass at the NSA didn't believe it, no he does it here?" Hank was surprisingly upset about Jason's powers.
The house was in a state of shock, silence rang throughout the halls.
"Uh, Hank. Do you mind if I have that back?" I asked for the picture.
"Huh? Oh, sure. Don't know why though, probably going to die soon anyway. Shot by some gang banger he pissed off." He almost laughed.
From what Hank was saying, Jason was more of a criminal than I was. Although, he wasn't going be earning anywhere near as much money as I had made in a month. The calm demeanor that Jason had told me that he believed what he was doing was legal. However, that badge told an even bigger story, one that could destroy my work.
Jason had contacts in the Government.
Hours later it was time to go to work, after making sure that Hank had not followed me, I went to the laundromat and went straight down to the lab. Rushing through the doors, I found Jesse breaking the last batch we cooked. I didn't start the next batch, I waited for him to say something before I actually spoke first.
"What? You've been staring at me for like an hour Mr White." He complained as he usually did.
"I think there could be a problem, nothing too worrying, but enough to think about." I explained the new situation as best I could in short terms.
Jesse just looked at me, supposedly worrying about my mental health.
"My nephew came to see me today, he's kind of like us. He's an arms dealer." I almost chuckled at the sentence. Knowing what Jason looked like, it was hard to see him as a hardened criminal.
As soon as I said 'arms dealer' Jesse almost fell over in shock.
"What?" Jesse began to look concerned.
"He says he came out here to look for his father, he knew the moment he got close to me. He said he could smell the lab on me or something like that. Either way, he knows I'm in the meth business." I went into more detail.
"How... Don't you cover yourself in like, disinfectant when you get home?" Jesse was joking, or at least I hoped.
"He said something along the lines of 'blowing enough up' to know what it smells like." I explained further.
"Dude, if he's a criminal like that, why would he rat us out? All he has is the smell of chemicals, other than that he's got nothing. Not even Saul would go for that." Jesse sighed reaching for the cleaning supplies.
He had a point, even if Jason had come to rat me out, he needed stronger evidence. I had to be careful or else the whole operation could come down on my head.
Jason
When I was done with the White residence, I hit my head on the steering wheel. Enough times to start hurt, of course this wasn't without cause. I knew Walter was full of shit, Angel wouldn't have confronted him at school. Of course, I figured that it wouldn't be right to phone his school to see if a man in a suit walked in the front door.
Tired, and pissed off, I drove to the motel and tried to get some sleep. As I walked into the motel room, the sounds of bongs being used in the room on the left and a prostitute doing her job in the right side room were blazing. Loud enough to hurt my ears, but I was used to those noises by now, however it didn't make me think sleep was any less worth the hassle.
After locking the door, I drew the curtains shut, put the Hi Power and badge on the table, took off my pants and vest and then collapsed into the bed. Instead of listening to next door's headboard hitting the wall and the occasional fake moan, I cast my mind away. Doing this allowed me to take in the sounds of the traffic outside, before long I was out of it.
I was as flat out at that point, dreaming about the best gun trade I'd ever done. Several small arms like pistols for a wide range of pump action shotguns, each and every one of them in pristine condition. I made a $40,000 profit on that deal seeing as the group of Cartel members I'd dealt with didn't seem to know much about the gun trade. Of course, once they found out that they'd been ripped off, they were like shooting fish in a barrel with the new fire power my group obtained.
Deals like that was what made the trade worth it, the action and danger of the job just seemed like the best thing in the world.
I was woken up by my phone ringing on the bedside table. I'd taken residence in an old manky motel room, it was good enough for what I needed. I picked up the phone and answered it.
"Hello." I spoke groggily.
"J, it's Mike. How'd it go?" Mike Ehrmantraut was on the other line, his gruff voice pretty much confirmed it was him.
Mike was a man recommended by members of the Mafia, people spoke of him like a ghost. He was the guy, no-one else could do a job like he did it, hence the reason I did a deal with him. He helped me track Walter White, I helped him on two jobs.
"About as well as expected, guy can't lie for shit. You never told me he was a chef." I spoke in synonyms so if anyone was listening they wouldn't be able to decipher what I was saying.
"Best in the ABQ, so are we straight?" He asked.
"Yeah, where'd you want to meet?" I sat up, getting ready to leave.
"I'll come and pick you up, in fact I'm outside right now." He spoke before hanging up.
Worried, I got up and stood over by the window, pushing the blinds away slightly to see if I could find him. No such luck, but there was one thing I knew, I wasn't going to meet someone I'd only had phone contact with without my gun.
Quickly I pulled my jeans on along with my biker's vest, making sure to keep the shoulder holster out of sight. Before I left, I picked up my biker's vest, sunglasses, keys and then making sure the browning hi power was loaded and took a extra mag, placing it in the side of my boots as I pulled them on.
As I walked out, the sun blinded be before I could pull the glasses down. After locking the door, I looked out on the parking lot, realising that Mike could have been fucking with me, I pulled out my phone and redialed the number.
"What?" He asked as he answered.
"What do you mean 'what'? Where the fuck are you?" I called getting pissed.
"I can see you wearing that stupid vest, and the gun. I'm unarmed, so you'd better get rid of it before we leave." He sighed before hanging up again.
"Fucker." I sighed, opening the door and throwing the shoulder holster inside along with the magazine before shutting the door and locking it again.
I then walked down the stairs to the parking lot, scanning the area looking for someone who looked like Mike. Seconds later I noticed the car flicking it's lights at me. As I made my way over, I could see his face, scowling at me.
When I got in the car he looked to the side at me before even speaking.
"You know, if you'd brought that gun where we're headed, I would have shoved it up your ass and emptied it into your rectum." He threatened me.
"The only thing you know about me Mike is I know Walt. If you're the man I'm told you are, then you don't threaten without a reason. It's a stupid idea, so don't fucking threaten me again." I laid out a solid rule for him as I buckled my seat belt.
He just looked at me, the scowl staying as it was.
"Kind of hypocritical don't you think?" He raised his eyebrows.
Mike knew very little about me, as such he though he could .
"Remember in 2002 when there was those exiles? I was one of them, my family and me. Do you want to know why?" I returned the scowl.
He stayed silent.
"Look at these tattoos, just watch." I ordered.
He looked at my tattoos, just before they began to pulse with light.
"See that?" I smiled.
I began to summon ice using the water inside my body, a serrated knife formed in my hands. Frozen, it would hurt once inside a body.
"I can do that with any liquid, even in my own body. I can extract a liquid my body doesn't need inside it, like poison for example, the perfect way to smuggle it. As of right now all I've got is blood, water and waste. So you threatening me is a very stupid fucking idea, the only reason I carry a pistol is so that I blend in, that doesn't mean I can't or wont kill someone who get's in my way." I actually threatened him this time, making sure he got the message.
I absorbed the blade back inside my body, making sure I had the water inside me should I need to do it again.
Mike looked at me before he looked forward and began to drive.
"Do you need 13 shots?" He asked as he joined the main road.
"I can deal with 6 shots. 13 just makes it easier, less of a pain if I miss." I answered, missing my holster.
"You prefer revolvers?" I looked over at him.
"Ehhh... Whatever works." He sighed.
He was a revolver guy, I could tell by the car. Sure he'd been long after semi auto became standard issue, but he liked tradition. Keeping with the times and making sure he knew the weapon inside and out before he even picked it up.
"Smith and Wesson, a five shot?" I raised my eyebrows.
"What?" He sighed.
"Car's from the 70's right? Kept it up, same condition I mean it's almost like new. So you're a man of tradition. A cop around that time probobly carried a Smith revolver, maybe even a 1911. 70's era Smiths are usualy 6 shots and 357 mag. Knowing how to see someone carrying a firearm you know to carry slim guns so a 5 shot. A Smith so you don't have to re-learn cylider rotation... 5 shot Smith." I shrugged after explaining everything.
"Being a wise-ass doesn't suit you." Mike sighed.
I chuckled.
"We're kind of alike... Well, someways more than others you know... For one thing I can't break the ice for shit. I mean I just read you like an open book, threatened you with an ice blade and am still fucking talking." I shook my head, looking out of the window.
"I know who you are J. Did you honestly think I'd take a job to give you the address of Walter without knowing a thing about you? I know a lot about you." He looked at me.
He kept driving on, traffic was surprisingly lacking around the area.
"Those murders after your kidnapping, the revolution on the island, the attack on the monks, the-" He trailed on.
"Stop." I growled.
"You don't need to give me a role call of all the fuck ups in my life, I know them well seeing as I was there. Just take me where we're headed, if you want a conversation then consider not bringing up a violent past Mike." I sighed, focusing on the road outside.
And so he did, not saying another word before we reached a large industrial sized laundry. If this was where the lab was, they had a good idea, the fumes would blend into the steam and no-one would suspect a thing. Mike got out of the car signaling me to do the same, he lead me into the laundry, through a lot of steam and migrant workers towards a large washing machine.
With his head, he signaled for me to look away, which I did, seconds later he patted my shoulder to get me to follow him down stairs leading into darkness before a dim red light began to shine, surprisingly there was a door which Mike had to open for me.
As we walked inside, my eyes opened as wide as they had ever opened before. The biggest meth lab that I'd ever seen in my life as sat in the center of the room, gleaming with brushed stainless steel.
This was where Walt worked, how could I tell?
"Mike? I thought I told you I needed Jesse today." Walt's voice rang out.
He walked out into a clearing so he could see us. His eyes fixed on me, shock throughout his body. There was an odor around the lab, the same one that I could smell on Walter.
"Well... I though you were a chef, didn't think it was this big on an operation though." I chuckled.
He stared at me, his mouth hanging open again. He began to walk towards the stairs, determination flowing through him.
"Now listen, I know what you're thinking-" He began, but I stopped him as soon as I could.
"As long as this shit doesn't end up on Tsun island, I don't care. Keep doing what you're doing, my lips are sealed." I smiled, chuckling at his flustured face.
"What?" His mouth closed slightly, his eyes narrowed at me.
"Keep sending it where it's going, don't let it end up on my doorstep and you're fine. Fuck with the island and you fuck with me, no meth in Tsun." My eyes narrowed too.
He stared at me, trying to threaten me, I had the perfect trick to freak him out and show him to make him fear me. I opened my mouth slightly, forming a spider out of ice to crawl out of my mouth. The moment it happened, Walt walked backwards, his mouth opening in fear.
It traveled over my face before I made it's legs touch my bright blue eye and slowly disolve into my bloodstream again. It was over, but Walter's look of terror was still fixed on me.
"I can make it do that to you too, but I can also make it rip out your insides." I smiled creepily.
"Don't try to threaten me again Walter." I began to grin, showing my fanged teeth at the corners of my mouth.
Mike chuckled too, about to give Walter some much needed information.
"When he was 15, some drug dealers sold his best freind meth. He nearly overdosed and fell into a pool at the school that they both attended. Understandably J was upset, so he found the dealers and crucified them in a forest near the school, then he shot every meth dealer that he could find, sending a clear message." Mike explained.
I pulled up my shirt slightly and pulled my waistband down enough so he could see the small tattoo. The date Jack nearly died.
"No. Meth. In. Tsun." I smiled.
"Yo!" Came a gruff but young voice from the lab.
A young man from the lab looked up at us, he looked at me much like Walter had done. Before he could say anything else, I leaned over the balcony and started before he could.
"Listen to me, don't try to threaten me like these two have, just get your shit and hurry up." I spoke, a pissed off tone very evident in my voice.
He looked taken aback, but did as I said. Moving over to the lockers to get changed, before anything else could happen, I patted down my clothes looking for my herbal cigarettes which were close by.
"Before we leave Mike, I need a smoke, these displays are putting me into stabby stabby mode." I sighed, putting one above my ear so it was at hand.
Jesse came up the stairs, his clothes clean and smart enough. Something that I found somewhat alluring were his blue eyes, but then again his recently shaved head was off putting to me. Not that I was fishing, but he seemed so handsome.
"We ready?" He asked, lifting his arms out to the side.
Mike looked at me, noticing that I was about to try and rip the skin off of my own face.
"Yeah, we're going kid." Mike chuckled slightly walking away.
I followed him, back away from Walter not paying him any mind. The instant I got outside, I put the cigarette in my mouth and lit it as soon as I could taking in the smoke and holding at for as long as I could.
The smoke leaked out of my nose as I began to lose the ability to hold my breath. One calm exhale and the rest of it was gone, suddenly I began to feel invigorated again. I finished the cigarette quickly and scrapped it away on the floor, watching the ash get blended into the gravel.
"Let's go." I sighed, about to get into the passenger seat.
"Uh uh. Back seat, both of you." Mike halted me.
I got into the back seat, followed by Jesse who sat behind Mike.
About a minute after we'd started down the road, Jesse began to start looking at me. He was interested in my tattoos, but this wasn't the only thing he was looking at, I knew what it was. It was always the same thing, I rotated my arm so he could see both rows of scars across my wrists.
"I think you'd like to know my name before you know about these scars Jesse." I smiled weakly.
"Sorry man, I just never get it. I mean why?" He started.
I looked at him and raised my eye brow, he hadn't got me the first warning I gave him.
"Ok, so what's you're name?" He asked.
"Jason White, but you only call me J. And I can read you like I read Mike earlier." I smiled at him.
"Oh yeah, like what? Come on, show me." He began to fan his hands towards himself.
I began looking at every exposed piece of skin that was on show. It was far too easy.
"Pale skin, you spend a lot of time indoors and when you do move around you do it by car.
Based on how pale you are, a lot of drug use not to mention how skinny you are, common signs of meth use. Small red mark on your jugular is akin to a needle mark, most likely used for drug injection so either Heroin or Morphine, it's old so you've stopped on that. You're eyes are clear but glassy so you've been sleeping well, but you've been clean for a while, something's turned you around." When I came to a close I saw a change in his eyes, they widened then began to look away.
"Someone you loved... I'm sorry, I know how it feels for someone to die by something you love." I sighed, stopping reading.
"Which was that?" Mike called from the front.
"Someone stole a gun of mine from my house, then he shot me and himself... It wasn't Jack, the one who fell in the pool. It was a freind of mine in the Triad, he thought he was bringing dishonor to his family but didn't want to live without me." I explained, trying to stay calm.
"Sorry to hear that... Don't you have one happy story, maybe one I could tell my granddaughter?" Mike sighed.
I began to think back, attempting to try and find one.
"Luke, my brother... Seeing him makes me feel like there's hope. My dad kept him in an underground facillity doing experiments on him, just monitering him. Had like a miniature city made out of plywood for him and a swimming pool. Taught him reading, maths and writing... Little did Luke know that dear old Dad was trying hard to do something terrible to him. You see, dad was a scientist who knew that mom's genes held something other than human, dad wanted to share those genes and make men into things like me. The thing is, it would kill any man woman or child that was exposed, I rescued him... I was trying to kill our father, but Luke kind of distracted me. Dad got away, but I saved Luke, teaching him the things I should have been taught when I was young and raised him right, he's still got a way to go." I began to tell the story of Luke.
Of course I was paraphrasing, but to tell the whole story would take far too long. Besides, I didn't really know Mike, nor did I know a thing about Jesse. He seemed to be listening intently as though he knew a kid a bit like Luke. There wasn't a kid like Luke, he was truly unique even if his story wasn't.
"How is he? I mean that kind of thing must be hard on him." Jesse asked.
"He has trouble with some concepts. I remember sex ed day... I spent hours trying to explain to him what a fucking cevix was. Hell, I don't really know what it is. Had to buy him books, in fact that's one of the only things he does." I smiled, laughing at the memory.
"I mean, psychologically. Some shit like that." Jesse pressed for more info.
"He's not retarded or anything. He's got a memory like a camcorder, learns something new every day and applies it to his life... So think of it like this, one day I started teaching him how to drive, you know basic stuff. Next morning I hear an engine going, what's he doing?" I lead Jesse to ask.
He didn't but invited me to go on with his eye.
"He's on the ride on mower, doing the front lawn." I chuckled explaining the story.
Mike let out the shorted chuckle I'd heard, but it was there none-the-less. Jesse grinned widely, showing he realised.
Several minutes later, my craving was becoming more and more hectic. My hand constantly tapping on my knee, my other dangerously close to my hand to my mouth. Close enough to get bitten if I couldn't control myself.
The car pulled over, close to a run down old house in the desert. Mike set the handbrake on and got out. I took the opportunity to get out of the car and take some deep breaths of fresh air. The sudden rush of fresh air made me turn slightly. My head began to spin, as such I tilted my head back to the sun in order to take in as much air as I could.
"I'd wish you'd let me open that fucking window." I sighed at Mike as he grumbled past me.
When I began to feel righted, I took a look at what he was doing, only to find he'd grabbed a shovel. Instantly I took a look at Jesse who looked as though this was normal.
Mike returned from the trunk and walked away from the car with a shovel.
"Don't worry, we're collecting cash. I thought the same thing when I came out here first." Jesse reassured me as he came around to my side of the car.
I watched as Mike kept walking until he reached a patch of grass and started digging.
"We've driven two hours... For Mike to dig a hole? And I dropped my gun for this..." I sighed, patting my vest down, looking for my meds.
"What is that anyway?" Jesse commented on my vest.
"It's from a Biker crew I worked for. Moving stuff from A to B, talking to this guy, getting packages from the other guy... Most boring job I had, but it was nice to see the island on the back of a bike." I smiled, looking at the patches on the chest of the vest.
Jesse began to look worried slightly.
"Don't worry, I don't live in the US. I'm not part of a biker crew out here." I chuckled slightly as I looked out towards the desolate area.
If I wasn't as smart as I was, I'd have thought a nuke had hit the place and this was like ground zero. Thankfully I had some sort of intelligence, of course there was the issue of the area we were in and of course what it was that Mike was doing.
My hand began to twitch, looking for the hi-power that wasn't there anymore. However, if this was one of those situations in which Jesse and I would end up dead, we'd be digging the hole at gunpoint. Even though Jesse explained the situation to me, I was still on edge. Too many people had tried to kill me in this past, this was just one of those techniques people used every now and again. Although, they ended up more often in penny dreadfuls than real life.
"Is this a common drop off point Jesse?" I wondered, seeing Mike drop the shovel and get down on his knees.
"Every so often, we can end up driving 20 miles or so for one bale." He answered.
"20 miles... Jesus fucking Christ. Walt's up to his eyes in this aint he?" I looked at Jesse.
20 miles for one bale of cash, which only could have been about 2 grand meant that the operation in question was massive. I didn't realise how big it was, the lab should have been a good enough clue, but it seemed like it was just state side. Based on the size of the lab, I estimated that it cooked about 300,000 dollars worth of product per batch. Meaning that 20 miles was not the maximum radius of these dead drops.
"You're not carrying are you?" I looked at Jesse.
He shook his head, taking out a cigarette and placing it in his mouth.
"A lighter, I mean Jesse." I sighed, realising I'd used the wrong words.
He then patted himself down, frantically looking for his lighter.
"Shit." He hissed through the cigarette.
I whistled to catch his attention, he looked at me in time to see the lighter coming at him. It hit him in the chest and he almost shit his pants trying to catch it. When he caught it he lit his cigarette and was about to throw it back.
"Don't even think about it. Keep it, not like I really need it anyway." I laughed.