Uncle Sam

“I’m a cop, not a spy. What the hell would I need your equipment for after all this is done?” 

He kept the flask in his hands for a moment before carefully opening it to sniff at the contents. Dan wrinkled his nose and immediately screwed back on the cap.

“Jesus–! That could kill a man!” He tossed the flask back. “Please tell me you ain’t sharing that with my brother when he gets back on his feet.”

“ — You say that now but just wait... ” Sam doesn’t make things that aren’t worth keeping, which is part of the problem, no one is willing to give them back. “...but if you still feel that way, I’d rather you be the one to stay, your brother is shit at bringing his stuff home. ”

“ — Well...yeah. Its high volume....where I’m from you gotta keep warm somehow. ” A shrug, rolls his shoulder back and he takes a seat on his stool.

He caught the flask, though not without a wince. The guy was crazy. This entire organization was crazy. Crazy and drunk. Dan ought to walk out the door then and there.

But the promise of a suit, a real bespoke suit…

He kept the flask in his hands.

“I only agreed to pretend to be him, you know that, right? I don’t need all them fancy stupid gadgets.”

“ — Oh stop looking like it will bite you, It’s just whiskey. ”  The flask in question is just a standard metal flast, battered and beat by a product of its age. It has some initials engraved in to the surface, SA, difficult to make out with all the scratches but the alcohol within is smooth and strong. “ That’s a small batch I’ve been working on for the holidays. ”

He’s ignoring the idea that Dan isn’t willing to take on this role. Or he doesn’t care. 

                                                “ I want YOU

                              to get your shit TOGETHER. ”