"Right we all know why we're here. This drug problem." It's the leader of the Sladers who speaks first, that's how we'd set up meetings. Whoever calls it speaks first followed by the other warlords in order of largest to biggest. Which always put me second lest I called it. We have roughly 73 people in our crew. He slowly sets a brown wrapped object in paper on the table. "We've all tried for years to keep drugs out of the ghettos. We've done good up until now. Someone is moving drugs on their own and we need to find out soon before the heat starts coming down and people start dying." There is murmurs of agreement by the various Warlords and smaller crews and I stand there quietly. I didn't speak at a meeting lest I need to.