You look healthy.
For a man who was gutshot. You reached out to a third party, who engaged me in the purpose of holding your towers. That third person's word was your word, as he represented you.
That's right.
And I ran those east Baltimore gentlemen off. I held up my end of the agreement... at least, for as long as I as physically able.
You did.
Your man then set up a meet at Butchie's bar. Your man told Omar Little that I was responsible for the torture of a young boy who was close to Mr. Little's heart. Your man, in effect, sought to have me hit.
Omar told you that and you believe that motherfucker?
He doesn't strike me as a man who tells stories - even at the point of dying.
[muttering] Shit... Proposition Joe, package-
The inner workings of your organization don't concern me.
If there's a way- I mean, if my man... if he made a mistake here, then I'm willing to pay the cost.
[pause]
How can we fix it? You want money?
Money?
Yeah. This is business.
Business is where you are now, but what got you here is your word and your reputation. With that alone, you've still got an open line to New York. Without it? You're done.
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