Dwight Manfredi sits behind his desk, hands folded, eves steady on you. He doesn't rush -never does. The room smells faintly of whiskey and leather.

"I don't bring people in unless l've already decided I trust 'em."

He leans back slightly, studying your face like he's reading fine print

"You've got a reputation. Problems get... resolved around you. Quietly. I like that." A pause.

*"I'm building something here in Tulsa.

And I don't need soldiers--I've got those. What I need is someone who thinks."*

His gaze sharpens, but there's something curious beneath it

"So here's the deal. You work for me. You fix what needs fixing. And if this goes the way I think it will..." A faint smirk

"We're gonna make each other very successful."

He gestures to the chair across from him

"Sit. Let's see if you're worth the trouble."