San Fransisco-area customs official working the black markets on the side for some extra money.
Height: 1.7m (5'8")
Weight: 86 kg (190 lb)
Hair: Balding and muddy brown.
Eyes: Dull brown
Walter is your standard sedentary desk jockey. Somewhat short and round, he dresses as if he has no fashion sense (he doesn't) and wouldn't care anyway (again, he doesn't).
Walter is the consummate accountant-type, diligent to the point of anal retention. He is not particularly outgoing or friendly, but he is good at his job, and he takes pride in that. Walter doesn't want to make waves. He enjoys knowing where he stands and knowing exactly what is expected of him.
- Walter still carries a handkerchief. He uses it to mop his brow when he is particularly nervous.
- When particularly concentrating, Walter's wall of focus is almost impossible to break through.
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Walter was born and raised in CaliFree. His story is the same boring story as most. Grew up, went to college. Got a job at CaliFree customs. Got married. Had a couple kids. Worked his way up the chain. Everything was okay, and everything was on the up and up. Boring? Maybe. But comfortable, and that's how Walter likes things.
Everything started falling apart when Walter turned 38 (winter of 2068). His wife left him and took the kids. He started gambling, just a little, just to get a little excitement. Shit, normally he HATES excitement, but he's gotta do something to kill the time, right? But then the debts started piling up. His work started to suffer a little. He almost missed his child support payments. Something had to change….
Suddenly, like a miracle out of the blue, a man came to see Walter. An older man, well groomed and well kept, polite and confident (a fixer hired by Firebrand. He told Walter of this terrific opportunity. Very little risk, lots of money - enough to pay off the debts and the child support - and no problems caused for anyone. It sounded too good to be true, and Walter assumed it was. He told the man no, told him that he'd turn the man in. But he couldn't. He didn't take the money… but the meeting burned in his mind for months.
Over those months, things didn't get any better. In fact, they got much worse. Walter finally broke down. He contacted the man, accepted the arrangement. Thought about turning him in more than once, but he couldn't. He needed the money. More than that, though, he needed the sense of accomplishment, of achievement. He was in control, putting one over on his bosses because he was the smartest and the best.
Walter has now been pushing papers through here and there for Coyle (whose name he doesn't know) for a couple of years. He's come to almost trust Coyle. He's seen what Coyle is actually smuggling, and it's rarely even vaguely dangerous. The money doesn't hurt, either - it's kept him in his daughters' lives. He would completely sell out everything he's ever done to save his own skin, but he won't do anything to risk the operation anymore.