1x2 Narc
The meet was at a derelict fish-packing plant on the south pier. Salt wind clawed through broken windows. Marcus sat alone on a rusted barrel, waiting. In his left jacket pocket: a burner phone with a live line to his handler. In his right: a bag of uncut fentanyl—two kilos, enough to put a neighborhood in the ground. 1x2 Narc...
Marcus’s blood chilled. Leo’s eyes went wide. “Marc—I didn’t—I only told you—” 1x2 Narc The meet was at a derelict