It's always the same cover story, how he accepted an offer as a call center manager in the Distrito Federal for a financial services company from the U.S. Julian was puzzled by the Doctor's inquisitiveness; he seemed to have all the time in the world. He was not in a rush to prescribe some medication and send the patient on his way. Julian continues entertaining the Doctor and goes along with what has become a friendly chat, that is until he finds the perfect moment to collect or until the Doctor's friends come running in and all hell breaks loose. At this point in his life, Julian has nothing to lose. Even he is surprised he has cheated death for so long. Julian continues with his fictitious story, as the Doctor patiently sat on the edge of his desk and attentively listens.
"And how do you like it here?" asked the Doctor.
"Well?" Julian shrugged. "I've only been in Mexico for a few months and I'm already regretting it. They stole my cell phone en el metro."
Julian tells the truth about his phone being stolen, although it happened when he first arrived in Mexico two years ago. He could have prevented it, but he was told not to bring any attention to himself.
The Doctor laughed, then stood up and excused himself out of the room. Julian immediately leaned forward on the edge of his chair and again reached for his gun, holstered behind his lower back.
"They've stolen my cell phone twice!", the Doctor shouted from outside the room.
"I recommend that you get a replica. I carry two phones, my real phone and a fake one. Just make sure you don't hand over your real one," the Doctor laughed.
"I've already made that mistake." The Doctor confessed.
"Have you purchased another one? because If you haven't, I have an extra one I can sell you, bien barato. cheap," The Doctor offered.
Julian found the Doctor's offer odd, why he would want to sell a phone.
"No, I don't need one, pero gracias."
The Doctor was in his mid 50's, peppered hair, about 5 ft 11, light brown skin, and a thin build. He didn't have extravagant jewelry or a fancy watch, only a wedding band. The leather band on his dull Citizen was cracked and his shoes scuffed and slightly worn out. His appearance and character were not what he expected from a doctor who worked for a criminal organization; they pay very well to be kept alive.
"Did you have trouble finding my consultorio?" the Doctor asked.
"I did get lost a few times, but eventually, I was able to find my way to your clinic. The girls across the street at the bar finally told me this was the place. Julian replied.
The Doctor walked back into the room, looking somewhat frustrated.
"Well, this place will do for now. It's not the best colonia, but it's all I can afford until business picks up."
By now, Julian had his gun resting on his lap, hidden under an outdated automobile magazine. The Doctor wasn't paying attention to Julian; he was distracted rummaging through his desk drawer. Julian remained seated, watching the Doctor and thinking if this was the right target. He has never doubted cubículo, but he was now second-guessing this job.
¡Ah hah los encontre!" The Doctor let out a sigh of relief as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from inside the drawer.