4
" Clint shared the close quarters of the holding cell: a young, white punk, pierced and tattooed, who passed out on the bench soon after he arrived; a pair of tailored, older men, one black, one Hispanic, argued over a petty drug deal gone awry; an obese Chinese pickpocket muttered to himself in Cantonese. Here, the melting pot that is America displayed her dingiest hue. An odor "
― Helen Hanson , 3 Lies (Masters CIA Thriller, #1)