Gus relaxes at once. It seems he'd judged mistakenly - though he's never quite met anyone so immediately devoted to the idea, with such lack of wariness or irony. It seems almost in danger of wandering toward the radical or fascistic, but Gus isn't exactly out to judge. Someone so dedicated might be useful, after all.

"We are in agreement there," he says, smiling for the first time since meeting Rashad, though not with any real warmth. He has always been something of a double agent for organizations like ROMAC, using them to blanket his true work; but he has no such work here. In some ways he realizes he is truly becoming what he's always pretended to be. Fittingly enough.

"I work for ROMAC; I'm actually in the recruiting department." If he had a card (and this weren't a dream), he'd give it over now. "I would be happy to place you within the organization - provide you with a place to stay, some necessaries, and a stipend. I could process you myself. If you remember this when you wake up, our offices are located in the Citigroup tower on Lexington and 53rd. Ask for Gustavo Fring."

There. Pitch given. He finds he's reached the water's edge, and stops, gazing down at it.