“Have you arranged for the red phosphorus to be delivered tomorrow?” said Dixon.
“I have,” replied his associate.
“And are we prepared for it?” said Dixon.
“We are.” Richard Dixon was the best “cook” in the world. Not any normal cook, mind you--Dixon was a meth cook. He used only the finest ingredients and the most pristine equipment. His lab was said to be so sophisticated that he could make a cook of 100% purity. He was more than a mere cook--he was a chef. He also did not look like a typical meth cook. He appeared to be a professional man. He had short black hair and piercing blue eyes. He could easily blend into a crowd and not be noticed--a quality that was good in his line of work. Dixon had earned quite a following in his years …show more content…
He placed some aside for darker affairs and set to the task. He took the recipe that had the ingredients he would need for the cook and began to gather them: the red phosphorus, some muriatic acid, pseudoephedrine, diethyl ether, sodium hydroxide . . . the list of went on and on but he had all of them memorized. As he reached for the diethyl ether, he noticed that it was different than usual--the bottle said 99% purity. He only used 100%. He began to fill with rage and slung the bottle at a nearby lab hand. It busted upon contact with the worker’s skull and soon the floor was filled with red. Others worked quickly to clean it up, for they knew that when Dixon was angry, he was …show more content…
They were now inside a long hallway with many doors and a dead end. McFierson motioned for them to enter the first room on the right. Together, they cleared the room and headed to the next. They did this for many rooms before they came to one that seemed different than the previous ones; it was large and open, with equipment in the middle and a large glass window on the side which they were on. McFierson motioned for his team to enter, but once they were inside, the door quickly sealed airtight before he could follow them. He heard a maniacal laugh behind him and turned to see Dixon. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger but the cartridge was empty. He had been set up. The tip was a
“I have,” replied his associate.
“And are we prepared for it?” said Dixon.
“We are.” Richard Dixon was the best “cook” in the world. Not any normal cook, mind you--Dixon was a meth cook. He used only the finest ingredients and the most pristine equipment. His lab was said to be so sophisticated that he could make a cook of 100% purity. He was more than a mere cook--he was a chef. He also did not look like a typical meth cook. He appeared to be a professional man. He had short black hair and piercing blue eyes. He could easily blend into a crowd and not be noticed--a quality that was good in his line of work. Dixon had earned quite a following in his years …show more content…
He placed some aside for darker affairs and set to the task. He took the recipe that had the ingredients he would need for the cook and began to gather them: the red phosphorus, some muriatic acid, pseudoephedrine, diethyl ether, sodium hydroxide . . . the list of went on and on but he had all of them memorized. As he reached for the diethyl ether, he noticed that it was different than usual--the bottle said 99% purity. He only used 100%. He began to fill with rage and slung the bottle at a nearby lab hand. It busted upon contact with the worker’s skull and soon the floor was filled with red. Others worked quickly to clean it up, for they knew that when Dixon was angry, he was …show more content…
They were now inside a long hallway with many doors and a dead end. McFierson motioned for them to enter the first room on the right. Together, they cleared the room and headed to the next. They did this for many rooms before they came to one that seemed different than the previous ones; it was large and open, with equipment in the middle and a large glass window on the side which they were on. McFierson motioned for his team to enter, but once they were inside, the door quickly sealed airtight before he could follow them. He heard a maniacal laugh behind him and turned to see Dixon. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger but the cartridge was empty. He had been set up. The tip was a