Industrial site, close to Angel Mall, east of the City, early evening.
In a place like this people didn't take much notice of trucks carrying containers. They were in and out all the time and there was always someone available who, in return for a few dollars, could get the container off the truck with a crane and stack it somewhere nice and quiet where you could go through its contents at your leisure.
With live cargo you never knew what you'd get and in what kind of condition. Sometimes it was so bad that it took three or four showers for Jimmy to get the smell of the shit and vomit out of his hair. But this particular consignment made quite a nice change.
"First of many," Jimmy said to Micah as they unlocked the padlocks and opened the doors. A box cutter made short work of the first crate and Jimmy uncovered the pastel coloured packets. He grunted, tore open a packet and sniffed the contents.
"Phwoar," he said. "Smells like a tarts hanky. Still I guess that's how it's supposed to smell. Five crates to start with. Let's be having you!"
He backed the minivan up to the container and they began to transfer the goods and had almost finished when they spotted a familiar car.
"Hi, boss," Jimmy said when he was within earshot.