Jamie wasn't particularly enthused, so far.

For the past few years, "Jay" Packard had operated as a freelance agent of sorts - taking jobs at his personal discretion and generally working under the salary from that alone. Before that, he'd been a dedicated agent for DynaCorp, one of the leading "private security" operators in the North American region, for upwards of a dozen years. 

The company had a certain infamy about it, recognized only by those well-ingrained in the political world, in its habit of locking down and absorbing smaller business outfits. Part of this was to expand their range of influence, the other part served to intake supplies and workers with promise of better pay and treatment. For the most part it worked, legal and ethical concerns be damned; the puppet government didn't have enough power in their hands to refuse DynaCorp's questionable practices, and the other corporations that did were either paid for their silence or sent a 'message' to ensure they didn't speak up. 

When he wasn't assassinating crime lords or covering drug-busting operations, Jay would occasionally find himself the 'courtier' for those certain latter instances. While DynaCorp did pay a handsome royalty to ensure the 'delivery' went as perfectly as it could, it didn't make the experiences any more desirable. Killing rabid junkies and lawless insurgents was easy and didn't need much induction - "These guys are plotting to overthrow the security of this sector, go put a stop to them," - political intrigue, meanwhile, proved much more difficult to swallow. 

Fortunately, servicing a company for over a decade with excellent skill in your field allowed one to be less of a beggar and more of a chooser, so to speak. Gradually, Jamie formulated a certain business plan for his own devices, and began to phase away from DynaCorp in the span of a couple years. The process wasn't so much taking matters into his own hands, but rather working as an independent agent, doing the same terror-killing missions without the concerns of inter-company power struggles.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before DynaCorp themselves caught on, and at that point Jamie would be ready to defend his stake if it came to it. Rather than challenge him, however, the security agency recognized his intent and granted him that very political freedom- under several firm conditions, granted, but all the same in any case.

Until recently, Jay had been somewhat enjoying this free reign to take down the many different anarchist rings at his own order for a year or so. With no company requirements or political killings to keep quota, life became relatively more simple- as much at it could get, of course, for someone who effectively served as a hitman. 

It was at this point that he came in contact with Councilman Tim Taggart. The man who recited all of this knowledge and more to Jamie, making quite clear his former governmental influence. Time presented the meeting as an opportunity for a soldier like Jay to make a real difference in the world again while doing the same job he'd just been doing. Jay himself interpreted as a threat to his well-being, a ransom to join this newly-founded anti-crime organization or have the secrets he was holding divulged. Who would the info go to? He couldn't know for sure; yet, Jamie was quite certain that there was more than one person (or company of persons) that would want the man dead if this knowledge was divulged to them. There was no cause driven greater than petty revenge, after all.

So here Jay sat now, lounging on the couch of some messy flat of the former young police captain who was supposed to be fielding this crew. And what a crew it was- back in the day, the racial diversity of this team might have been rather praised (or just as equally hated). 

He was supposed to get along with this motley band of individuals? Well, it couldn't be the worst challenge of life.

Just looking at this meeting place told volumes about what C.O.P.S. had to work with compared to what the program meant to do. It put the whole thing in a slightly more understandable light for Jay, so that he didn't feel exactly like he was being dragged into this against his will. 

Still, Jay couldn't shake off a certain feeling. Like a shirt with an itchy tag, the uncomfortable thought nagged at him. The idea that Taggart had approached him knowing everything there was to know about him didn't quite sit right in the brain. If the councilman knew all that himself, how many other people had Jay's life story recorded and up for grabs. Was this a ransom, or some secret chance for redemption?

[i]Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,[/i] the saying went. As Jamie chugged half a glass of water, he tried to resolve not to think too hard about whatever implications were at stake. This was just a less-than-fancy attempt to change the face of a city, after all.