"Just a friendly reminder from the paper pusher office, that I'm supposed to stay close to a US ground base or within reach of a supervisor officer, in case of a required medical evaluation. Should have used a fake ID for that ticket."

Clint diminished the thick layer of cream on his cup with system and quickly, down to the last drop before the actual cacao came in sight. Sugar was supposed to do something for the endorphins, right?

"It's okay, I guess. We can deal with that shit tomorrow. If I call now, I'll probably spend the night in a cell."