I poured myself a generous cup of coffee in Ned’s office at the DEA’s headquarters.

I recoiled just slightly at the heat of the brown liquid, still accustomed to the cold coffee they had served us in prison. “Ned, do you have any cream?”

Ned stared back at me like I had just said the sun was green.

“Cream? You’re worried about cream right now? Jesus fucking Christ, Corbin. Jesus H. It’s right on the side of the microwave. Jesus.” Ned paced around his room with his hands behind his back, too worked up to sit behind his large oak monstrosity of a desk.

“Ah. There it is,” I peeked behind the microwave. “You even have those little vanilla flavored cream packets! Hazelnut too! I love these things. Let me tell you Ned, the coffee in prison—I’ll be damned if sometimes they just didn’t take a little dirt and throw it in the water and heat it up until it was luke-cold. And definitely no cream. Shit no. But sometimes we’d steal a packet or two of butter and make our own…Hey, you look really worked up, buddy. Are you okay?”

Beads of sweat rolled from the corners of Ned’s receding brown hairline as he paced back and forth. He had undone the top button of his ironed white shirt and loosened the knot of his tie. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his hairy forearms as if he had been at the office working through the night on some ball-buster of a problem.

“Corbin, do I look fucking okay to you?” Ned yelled, ceasing his back-and-forth pacing for a moment.

“No, you don’t look okay at all. You look stressed. Do you want a cup of coffee? I made extra.” I nodded toward the Mr. Coffee and winked at Ned.

“Un-goddamn-believable, Corbin. I get a report from border patrol that says you came over the Mexico/United States border on the second night after your release! After I explicitly told you to stay out of trouble. And you’re yapping on about how much you love little cream packets in your coffee? You just love those cream packets! Is this true or are my sources wrong?”

Ned put his hands on his hips like an angry parent whose kid was in the principal’s office.

Except this wasn’t a school, and what I did with my personal time sure as hell wasn’t any of Ned’s business as far as I was concerned, even if it involved bending their “rules.”

As long as the DEA needed me to take down Luis Reyes, the most prolific drug dealer of all time, they wouldn’t do shit to me, as long as I played ball and got the job done.

And I was a master at getting shit done, be it playing for the dark side or the good side.

I concentrated on putting the third and final cream packet into my coffee while I stood next to the microwave, giving him some time to cool off. I wasn’t sure why Ned had such an ax to grind with me when I was basically the heart and soul of this whole goddamn operation.

“Answer me, Corbin. Is this true?” he repeated.

Slowly, I turned around and took a step toward him, holding his gaze.

“It’s true,” I nodded. “I do love cream in my coffee, and these little packets are phenomenal. Ohh, don’t get me started about hazelnut flavor. Everyone sees me and thinks tattooed, shady looking guy like that? He’s definitely a black coffee guy. But I love cream for my hangover coffee. Isn’t it funny how sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s taken away? Now that I’m a free man, I’ll even have a latte once in a while or if it’s hot I’ll have an icy cold—”

“Goddamnit!” Ned pounded his desk with both fists, cutting me off.

“Holy shit. Wow! You think this is funny. Just one big joke about cream in your fucking coffee. Do I look like I’m goddamn laughing? This is the DEA, Corbin! Your early release is contingent on your cooperation. I’m your superior and I’m asking you a question: Did you or did you not roll past border patrol four weeks ago? And some of the reports I gathered from sources in the field are even telling me you went home with some prostitute?” Ned paused and looked at his watch, “—for the love of God Corbin, that wasn’t even forty-eight hours after your release! If I can’t trust you to--”

“Whoa, whoa whoa! That’s totally unfair, Ned. Honestly, I’m offended,” I said, cutting him off.

Ned took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. “Phew. Thank God. So you’re saying my sources are wrong. That you didn’t break the rules and go across the border to sleep with a prostitute?”

“No, that’s pretty much right. Everything except she wasn’t just some prostitute, Ned! Honestly I thought we had a pretty good connection for one night. And damn, if you woulda seen how gorgeous she was you’d have brought her home yourself. Beautiful dark brown hair, banging body. And this cream-coffee colored skin. It was so soft I actually felt bad that she had to deal with my beard. And I don’t usually feel bad, Ned. About almost anything.” I took a pull of my coffee and made an audible slurping noise. “Oohh. That’s the perfect temperature. Finally. And the perfect amount of hazelnut cream.”

I nodded a little, truly content.

“It’s the little things in life,” I winked. “Am I right? You’ve got to appreciate them.”

Ned looked at me blankly, jaw open, disbelieving of my dripping sarcasm. His eyes widened like they were about to blow right out of his head. Clearly he was used to his agents obeying his every order without question. He brought his hand to his forehead and massaged it with his thumb and forefinger.

“We’re out here trying to catch Luis Reyes,” he began, his voice sounding dejected, “the biggest drug dealer of modern times—and my fucking double agent is more concerned about getting his rocks off than taking this seriously. I swear to God.”

“Hey Ned, buck up, pal,” I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He looked like he needed some serious comforting, and not just about the mission. “I’m just trying to fit in, okay? If I’m going to go undercover, I figure I better stick with my old habits in the outside world so I don’t arouse any suspicion. Me having a one-night stand with a girl isn’t suspicious. You know what is suspicious? If I get out of prison and I stop partying like I used to. I just need you to trust me, okay? I’m staying in character. It’s all an act.” I grinned.

He had to know I was right.

Ned leaned back on his solid oak desk and folded his arms.

“That’s exactly the problem Corbin. I don’t know if I can trust you. Is this really an act? Or are you just unreliable and unpredictable? I was already skeptical. And after the shit you pulled going across the border, I have my doubts.”

I rubbed my short beard with a hand. Two years in prison and a lifetime of crime hadn’t exactly turned me into an ego-assuager who would grovel before his superiors. Especially given the dire straits the DEA was in to make a deal with a guy like me in the first place. They’d been trying to catch Reyes for nearly a decade.

“So what are you going to do? Put me in jail and find another ex-con who has years of experience working with the Reyes gang? Who spent a year in the same cellblock with one of the Reyes cousins? Get real. I’m all you’ve got.”

“Maybe. But I’m going to take the necessary precautions,” Ned cleared his throat, “Which is why I’m bringing one of the DEA’s top psychological evaluation specialists to interview you. If you’re lying—we’ll find out. And we will put you back in prison if you’re not on our side. She’ll be here shortly to deal with you. Dr. Napleton is no bullshit, Corbin. So head out, get some lunch, whatever, and make sure you’re back here later.”

I took a large gulp of my coffee and swallowed. “She. A girl, huh?”

“Yes Corbin, a girl.”

I sat back down and smiled as I held on to my coffee mug. “Alright, I’ll do your little interrogation thingy.”

Who knew? Maybe she’d be cute.