Revenant looked over the small warehouse space and smiled, this would do nicely. He had made connections with people long ago in the old country. Everywhere from Armenia to Afghanistan, Istanbul to Odessa. Even beyond to Russia, Palestine and the US.  People he crossed paths with remembered him. He remembered them. The places they went were connected through him and other encounters. Like a tree with branches intertwining. 

Sev, a dear friend of his family helped their people escape genocide in Armenia. Settling them in a small village in Azerbaijan he eventually became the mayor. They grow the most beautiful poppies there. The whole village had been growing them all year for him. The ripe seed pods were carefully harvested and shallowly scored by hand. The leaking sap dried to a tan colored latex that coated the pods. Placed in lined crates so none of the precious dust was lost. They were sent Northwest to Poti In the Soviet Republic of Georgia. Here they met Misha, a comrade from the great war he eventually rose in the ranks of civil service and now runs the customs office and port of Poti. Safely stowed aboard with legitimate cargo it took a leisurely trip on a trade goods ship. Quite light at that point it took on many items in Istanbul, then Athens. Tunis and Algiers completed the hold and it began the slow journey to Quebec Canada. Now it began to deliver its cargo in stops a portion at each one. Following the St Lawrence Seaway, it Stopped at Montreal and Buffalo New York USA. Making a call at Detroit its nearly 3/4 empty. Its final stop Duluth Minnesota USA. From here it went back the way it came filling up again. His crates were passed on to Sergio, another Armenian brother who escaped to America and rose in the ranks of the Saint Paul mafia. From there it was supposed to go to Chicago, but Revenants latest adventures have moved him to Los Angeles So it’s now shipped by rail to a crew ran import company. Marked with Soviet diplomatic seals it would never be touched even if it was ever discovered. 

Revenant has had a difficult life. Horrors or war and evils of men have shown him time and again the world is not a nice place. Fighting evil, he did things that inadvertadly hurt innocent people or simply had to be done. He flashes back to a Turkish munitions train and how happy he was to see his plan come to fruition. The spanner bridge he damaged failed perfectly and the plunge and pile up of the train was just enough to set it all off. What he hadn’t planned on was the consequence of setting off tons of bombs and munitions in a residential area. He watched in horror as debris from the concussions were thrown in every direction. an intact shell for shore defense batteries tumbled toward him. Like it was in slow motion he saw it connect with the side of a building near him and detonate. He spent weeks sifting through the rubble helping rescue efforts at first then to recover the dead. Their faces haunt him all the time. The image of a boy, no more than fourteen appears. He’s part of the home guard and was checking on signs of life in an abandoned farmstead. Was it fate that he found Revenant in his hiding place? Or just cruel gods enjoying the show. He didn’t know but the look on the boy’s face when Revenant cut his throat is still clear in his mind’s eye. Even the guilty, he never imagined how many human demons would choose "I’m sorry" for last words. 

Revenant snapped back from his wandering thoughts. Here with this equipment he began to process the dust off the seed pods into morphine. He got addicted to laudanum long ago. With the government starting to regulate its use It was not only very cost-effective way to insure his own supply but a very lucrative side venture. 

Either way he thought as he looked at the half a bottle of store-bought laudanum he had with him. I’ll be sleeping peacefully without being interrupted by terrors. I’ll be in Morpheus' embrace tonight