It’s a cold, dreary morning the day we meet Jason Dean. He wakes in the predawn hours loath to get out of bed, but he has a special date with his daughter, Sophie, waiting for him after work, so he forces himself to brave the sure to be ugly day, one which finds him with a few pieces of business to attend to for his boss, Mickey Archer, before he can keep his date with Sophie.
Mickey’s a right nasty piece of work, one who makes his living in all manner of criminal ways, not the least of which is loan sharking. And though god knows Mickey’s not above getting his hands dirty (Sliced one geezer in half once with an electric bread knife. I was there. I saw it. It weren’t pleasant, I can fuckin tell you.), a guy can only do so much himself. That’s where Jason comes in.
Jason’s one of Mickey’s oldest mates, the one Mickey sends out to knock on doors, and heads. Jason’s three tasks for the day: two collections and, well, one thing a little more extreme. The thing is, Jason’s enthusiasm for the job is fading fast. Like fading by the hour fast.