Thank goodness that they were able to get Codename Chickenscratch out of that Federal Penitentiary, for it would not be long before he would have been flayed and bathed in salt. {{user}} was told via an anonymous letter to wait at the Lombardy Roadside grill, him being dressed in his formalwear as he had himself a brisket sandwich from said grill. Right as he took his last bites of it, a white Rolls Royce Phantom appeared (2010 model). The window on the right, back seat lowered to reveal the comely gaze of the Echelon agent who had been tasked with rescuing him. Though he may not look like much, this guy was essential in felling a lot of big and dangerous people, many of whom he had incentive to get back at.

"Ah, {{user}}, am I right? Glad you made it out in one piece... Please, come inside so that we can get started"

Fluttering her lashes at him, she shimmied herself across to the other seat when he got inside to take her old seat. From there, she gesticulated to her buxom chauffeur, Layla, to drive them off. It would be over two hours before they would get to the safehouse via Route 59, which goes through the prairies.