The luxury Sedan turned a few homeless heads as it crawled through the Tenderloin District. Quint watched out the rear, blacked-out window, as a high school class marched down the sidewalk handing out paper bag lunches. It'd been years since he'd been to such a grimy neighborhood. He didn't miss is at all.
The Sedan pulled to the corner of O'Farrell and Leavenworth. Quint stayed seated for a moment as his security unit pushed a man away from the car. He peered out at the salmon-pink building. It looked like it'd been built in the 50s and never touched since. An outline of the words "Larry's Market" was stained above the shop where the sign had been removed.
One of his team members opened the door for him and escorted him quickly to the storefront. The glass barred door clanked closed behind him as he stepped into what was somehow a grimier place than the street outside.
Christine had insisted the meeting happen somewhere else, but Quint insisted harder that he'd come to them.
"Please lock the door." He ordered Christine, who quickly obeyed.
"He's upstairs right now, sir." She said as she passed back by him.
Quint scanned the room for a suitable chair, but they were all a bit too dirty for his outfit.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.
"A cup of coffee." Then he added, "Black."
She poured the last of the pot into a Styrofoam cup and handed it to her boss. She found a bit of satisfaction that the same pack of cups she gave to the homeless was also serving Quint.
"Can you please fetch him for me?" Quint said, taking a sip of the hot liquid. The coffee burnt his tongue, but he didn't show any reaction.
"Right away."
Quint looked out the window. Two guards stood watch. He had planned on doing this visit alone, without any guards, but with Gary somewhere out there, he decided to take caution.
The sound of footsteps descending the stairwell pulled his gaze back into the room. He watched Michael as he stepped through the doorway. His arm was in a sling, and he looked like he'd lost at least ten pounds since they'd first talked in the office.
"Michael, you look great," Quint said, reaching out his hand, then switching to the other so Michael could shake it.
Quint gestured for Michael to sit while he kept standing.
Michael's eyes were bloodshot and glazed. He looked defeated. Quint had expected him to be in this grim state, and that's why he felt he needed to be here in person.
"We have Mimsy," Quint stated. He watched Michael's gaze as it rose from the floor to meet him in the eye. His forehead wrinkled.
In one swift movement, Michael charged from his seat and plowed into Quint, who, not expecting the rush, tumbled back into the window. The guards outside the shop jolted around, but Quint raised a hand to halt them.
Christine burst back into the room, "Michael, don't!"
"Michael," Quint smiled cruelly. "We have her."
Michael breathed slowly, looking back and forth from Christine to Quint. Christine mouthed "Don't," to him again, but he quickly looked away.
"I need you, Michael. I could stand here and threaten to kill you, but I don't think your life matters enough to you anymore for you to care." Quint took a step towards Michael and pointed to the chair, "Sit."
Michael sat.
"Your life doesn't matter to you, but Mimsy's does."
"What do you need," Michael said in a hushed tone. He wanted to kill Quint. He wanted to pick up his chair and—
"I need you to help me get Gary."
"You already tried to get Gary."
"Last time, you were kept unaware of the true point of the mission. This time I'm telling you to your face. We need Gary." Quint took a step towards Michael. "We have Mimsy."
"How am I supposed to get Gary?"
"You can start by calling him. Tell him you're being dropped in Cottonwood Falls Kansas tomorrow. We're blaming you for the dead agents, and someone's coming to kill you."
Michael sat still for a moment, confused. "He's going to question why The Company didn't just kill me on the spot. He'll know that you're trying to draw him out."
"Yes, he will," Quint said without a degree of concern in his voice. "I am assuming Gary already thinks we know who he is."
"But he won't show up."
"I'm interested to see if he does." Quint took a breath, "Michael, I would like to meet with Christine alone."
"Why would I—" Michael began.
"When you call him, I highly recommend you tell him what I just said. It's the easiest path for you. I'll get what I want either way. You have a way of reaching him, correct?"
“Yes, but I don’t think—”
“We have Mimsy and I have no problem harming her,” Quint pointed to the stairwell, “Michael, you may leave now.”
Michael stood and walked to the stairwell. Before he reached the top, he'd already decided he was not going to follow Quint's instructions.