You know your cousin Bill Smeads was a part time member of the OFTl. Maybe they have a position for you. Bill got free gasoline, enough to get him to work and back for a week each time he narced some juicy info to FarmLand security. You hail a taxi and give the wrinkle of a man the address. You know where it is , it's not too far from the job you can no longer afford to go to. As you ride on, ignoring the cabbie's mindless banter you wonder if you should try to bring the organization down from the inside , or perhaps , you should get as rich as you possibly can off of it, at the expense of who-ever.
