Re: Callen and Clay
"I understand, although I'd prefer not to have it affect much, when it starts to hamper my abilities, I have remedies that give me more or less full range of motion back," he said. He hated this disease. He wouldn't be beat by it. He would die before it beat him.
"So you did ride, good," Clay smirked, "never trust a man that doesn't ride, or at least hasn't ridden." He said it in a voice that conveyed sarcasm, but was he being honest? He wasn't even sure. He had worked with plenty of people who didn't ride. But did he trust them? Probably not. But it was a long list.
"Interesting. My government always spent, spent, spent, then taxed, taxed, taxed, then knocked on your door wanting your guns. I suppose it might be comforting to know this government is better at its financial management. Although, I think an efficient government might be more deserving of distrust than an honest one." And that was about as close as he ever comes to expressing any sort of political philosophy. "Being able to examine automotive technology in a certain form at a less than... desirable quality is better than not being able to examine that tech at all." Tech was the shortened form used in the agency parlance. Or so he thought at least.
"Ever spend time on the PCH? It was also a plan of mine to start at the beginning in Canada and go down to Chile. But life always seemed to interrupt." Life was also known as Latin American drug cartels in Clay's world.