Chapter 181: Old White and Little Pink
"The danger of what we're about to do—I think you're both already well aware. If those two corpses weren't enough of a warning, I don't know what is."
"So, let's not even talk about money right now. For the sake of our own safety—and our families'—we need to make some things crystal clear."
"First and foremost is the issue of security. I completely agree with Walter here: our identities must stay hidden, as much as humanly possible."
"That's why we need code names," Frank said.
"Code names? Like superhero aliases? You mean like Captain America or Iron Man?" Jesse's eyes lit up with excitement.
Ever since Tony Stark publicly announced he was Iron Man, Jesse had become a diehard fan—plastering his bedroom walls with Iron Man posters. After all, this was a real-life superhero, not some comic book fantasy.
"Exactly. We'll use code names among ourselves to avoid accidentally revealing our identities by name," Frank explained.
"That makes a lot of sense," Walter nodded in agreement.
"In my plan, we'll each have two code names—one for internal use, and one for external use."
"The internal one is how we refer to each other. The external code name is what we present to the outside world," Frank continued.
This wasn't some groundbreaking idea either. In the old days, even bandits and outlaws had their own lingo and aliases—coded phrases only insiders understood. Remember "The king covers the tiger"? Outsiders wouldn't know what they were hearing.
"What do you mean by that?" Jesse asked, confused.
"Let's start simple—pick your internal code name. I'll go by 'Old Man'. Your turn."
"I'll be 'D Master'," Walter said.
"I wanna be... Super Flash Guy!" Jesse blurted out with glee.
"..." Frank stared at him silently.
"...What? You don't like it?" Jesse shifted uncomfortably under Frank's gaze.
"We're picking names to protect our identities, remember? The more discreet, the better. Short and subtle."
"Walter, your 'D Master' alias is short, but it screams what your role is in the operation. Too obvious. Let's keep it simple—you'll be 'Old White'."
"Fine." Walter didn't mind. He wasn't too hung up on names.
"As for you..." Frank looked at Jesse, unsure where to even begin.
"I'll change it! Okay?" Jesse said weakly.
"No more of that superhero nonsense. From now on, you're 'Little Pink'."
"Hell no! I'm a grown man—how can I have such a sissy-sounding name?" Jesse protested immediately.
"I'm Old Man, Walter's Old White, and you're Little Pink. Got it?" Frank ignored his protest and finalized the naming scheme.
"Now, those are our internal code names. Let's figure out our external identity—one single name we use when dealing with outsiders," Frank said.
"How about... Heisenberg?" Walter suggested.
"Heisenberg?" Frank raised an eyebrow. "Why that?"
"He was one of the founding fathers of quantum mechanics. Famous for the uncertainty principle—it basically says that the more precisely you know a particle's position, the less precisely you can know its momentum. Or in layman's terms: 'I exist, but you can't find me, and you sure as hell can't catch me.'"
"Perfect. We'll go with Heisenberg," Frank nodded, clearly impressed. "Smart and mysterious—gotta love a name with depth."
"From now on, when anyone asks who we are—we're Heisenberg. You're Heisenberg. I'm Heisenberg. He's Heisenberg." Frank pointed at Walter, then himself, then Jesse.
Heisenberg wasn't a person anymore—it was an identity, almost like a brand. A gang name. But not quite.
After all, they weren't some criminal organization with hundreds of lackeys. They were just three guys—a small outfit. At best, a startup.
"So internally, we stick to Old Man, Old White, and Little Pink. Externally, we are all Heisenberg. Clear?" Frank asked.
"Ohhh, now I get it." Jesse nodded. This time, it finally made sense.
After that, the group discussed a few more details. Frank took time to explain to Walter just how important Jesse was to the operation—emphasizing that Jesse was the one responsible for sourcing all the raw materials.
Before this, Jesse had partnered with others and was always in charge of procurement. He had stable, secure supply lines—and that made him invaluable.
This was why Frank insisted Jesse be part of the team. Contrary to Walter's earlier suggestion of cutting Jesse out, Frank knew Jesse's connections were the key to everything.
Walter only focused on production. He had no idea where the raw materials came from or how much was available.
Frank called the meeting to get everyone on the same page—to make Walter realize that materials weren't infinite and that he couldn't just bury himself in his own work.
Think of it like running a factory—it doesn't matter if you're making toys, clothes, or rubber—you still need to understand how much raw material is coming in, and how many units are being sold downstream. Only then can you adjust production.
Otherwise, you end up with a mess—shortages, overstock, unmet orders, or warehouses packed with unsold goods. Any of that could tank the business.
So communication is key. Walter needed to understand Jesse wasn't just some punk—he was a linchpin.
If they were in Chicago, Frank would have his own connections for materials—likely even better ones, given the size and scale of the city.
But this wasn't Chicago. This was New Mexico.
Frank didn't know the lay of the land here. He didn't know the people, the networks, or the supply routes. And he sure as hell wasn't going to haul product back and forth between Chicago and New Mexico—that would be exhausting and pointless.
What they needed was a local. Someone embedded in the scene.
And Jesse Pinkman fit the bill perfectly. Born and bred here. Street-smart and connected.
Most importantly—they knew him. They could trust him.
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