Dallen made his way back to the streets of New Reno, calmly making his way toward the Imperial. He smoked another cigarette as he walked past the vibrant colors and polluted air, wondering for a second where the others had run off to. He carried Alejandro's backpack of chems over his suit, yet under his trench coat, so that no one who may have known the guy would recognize his bag. Flicking his cigarette away, he entered the Imperial and went straight to the bar. Best place to start, he figured. [color=steelblue] "Whiskey," [/color] he ordered, putting a few caps on the table. [color=steelblue] "Nice place, given the circumstances of the shit world we live in. Give my compliments to whoever manages this place. I know the Torres family owns it, but it's got to take a real stand out to manage it." [/color] He gave out the bait, hoping it would work. If not, he'd drink his drink and try another method. Dallen took a quick look around to observe his surroundings, noting the different types that came here as opposed to the Shark Club. His honest opinion was that it was another shit hole, just like every other place he had been.