he said as he finished dressing. “Sunday morning.
Think of a place. Somewhere nice.”
“Okay,” she said. “I will.”
Brody leaned forward and gave her another kiss before
departing. The kiss was one of the those lingering goodbye kisses where both
participants know that it could very well be the last time that their lips ever
meet. It’s the same kind of kiss that a soldier gives his wife before a tour of
duty overseas.
“See you soon,” he said, all the while praying that it would
be true.
Upon departing Brody called up Sergei. It took him four
rings to pick up but he eventually did. Brody could tell by the sound of his
voice that he had awoken his Russian employer after only a few hours of drunken
sleep.
“I need one more day.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Brody. Listen. That package you requested. I’ll be
delivering it tomorrow afternoon and I may be coming in hot. Be ready.
Brody ended the call and tucked his phone back into his
pocket. Now to make sure that he could fulfill this brash promise. He headed
toward The Canyons, a drive which was becoming more familiar than he ever
thought it would be. He decided his first stop should be the car wash. There
was no longer any need to stake out the mansion, not until the next morning at
least.
He pulled into the car wash, which was just starting up
operations for the day. He positioned his car on the conveyor and got out. He
made sure to look around and take note of everything. The speed at which the
car went into the tunnel. The behavior of the attendants who gave the tickets.
The number of cars driving by on the street.
He made his way slowly through the inside as well. He
watched his car travel through the various stations as it was soaked, soaped,
rinsed, and dried. He paid at the register and went back outside to meet the
Impala on the other end. He watched again as the nose of his car emerged and
was quickly swarmed on by a gaggle of attendants. When the car was returned to
him he tipped one of the attendants, not too much or too little to be too well
remembered, and drove off.
His next stop would be the garage. He decided to drive three
different routes, just in case things got hot the next day. There was no reason
to think they would. After all, the colonel had gone by himself the previous
week. But he had the time to do it. Might as well take the cautious and
prepared approach.
Brody tested one highway route and two using surface
streets. It was a long hop any way you sliced it. If he were followed or had
cops on his tail it wouldn’t be easy. He had a lot of ground to cover. That’s a
lot of chances to get caught.
On the way he made sure to note detours to take where it
might be possible to hide. Tight residential neighborhoods, industrial
districts, parking garages. He hoped that he would not have to use them. But
again, it was to err on the side of caution, especially with so much on the
line.
Luckily Los Angeles was full of these little out of the way
cubby holes where a car could be stashed while the heat cooled down. It was all
a matter of timing. Panicking and going for a safe spot too early gives the
cops (or the Iranians) time to muster a search. Going too late risks obvious
exposure.
Brody then returned to the area around the car wash. He
scouted out places nearby to park the Impala that out of view of the car wash
itself. It also had to be somewhere where it wouldn’t seem too out of place. It
could be awhile before he could circle back around to pick it up again. He also
scouted storefronts near the car wash where he could linger as a pedestrian
without seeming suspicious. Unfortunately, in L.A. pedestrians were always an
unusual sight. He would have to come up with something else.
By the time he was finished with his preparations the sun
was beginning to set beneath the Pacific. The sun glowed red through the hazy
smog of the city of angels. Since he had no idea what would happen the next
day, Brody decided to treat himself
Think of a place. Somewhere nice.”
“Okay,” she said. “I will.”
Brody leaned forward and gave her another kiss before
departing. The kiss was one of the those lingering goodbye kisses where both
participants know that it could very well be the last time that their lips ever
meet. It’s the same kind of kiss that a soldier gives his wife before a tour of
duty overseas.
“See you soon,” he said, all the while praying that it would
be true.
Upon departing Brody called up Sergei. It took him four
rings to pick up but he eventually did. Brody could tell by the sound of his
voice that he had awoken his Russian employer after only a few hours of drunken
sleep.
“I need one more day.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Brody. Listen. That package you requested. I’ll be
delivering it tomorrow afternoon and I may be coming in hot. Be ready.
Brody ended the call and tucked his phone back into his
pocket. Now to make sure that he could fulfill this brash promise. He headed
toward The Canyons, a drive which was becoming more familiar than he ever
thought it would be. He decided his first stop should be the car wash. There
was no longer any need to stake out the mansion, not until the next morning at
least.
He pulled into the car wash, which was just starting up
operations for the day. He positioned his car on the conveyor and got out. He
made sure to look around and take note of everything. The speed at which the
car went into the tunnel. The behavior of the attendants who gave the tickets.
The number of cars driving by on the street.
He made his way slowly through the inside as well. He
watched his car travel through the various stations as it was soaked, soaped,
rinsed, and dried. He paid at the register and went back outside to meet the
Impala on the other end. He watched again as the nose of his car emerged and
was quickly swarmed on by a gaggle of attendants. When the car was returned to
him he tipped one of the attendants, not too much or too little to be too well
remembered, and drove off.
His next stop would be the garage. He decided to drive three
different routes, just in case things got hot the next day. There was no reason
to think they would. After all, the colonel had gone by himself the previous
week. But he had the time to do it. Might as well take the cautious and
prepared approach.
Brody tested one highway route and two using surface
streets. It was a long hop any way you sliced it. If he were followed or had
cops on his tail it wouldn’t be easy. He had a lot of ground to cover. That’s a
lot of chances to get caught.
On the way he made sure to note detours to take where it
might be possible to hide. Tight residential neighborhoods, industrial
districts, parking garages. He hoped that he would not have to use them. But
again, it was to err on the side of caution, especially with so much on the
line.
Luckily Los Angeles was full of these little out of the way
cubby holes where a car could be stashed while the heat cooled down. It was all
a matter of timing. Panicking and going for a safe spot too early gives the
cops (or the Iranians) time to muster a search. Going too late risks obvious
exposure.
Brody then returned to the area around the car wash. He
scouted out places nearby to park the Impala that out of view of the car wash
itself. It also had to be somewhere where it wouldn’t seem too out of place. It
could be awhile before he could circle back around to pick it up again. He also
scouted storefronts near the car wash where he could linger as a pedestrian
without seeming suspicious. Unfortunately, in L.A. pedestrians were always an
unusual sight. He would have to come up with something else.
By the time he was finished with his preparations the sun
was beginning to set beneath the Pacific. The sun glowed red through the hazy
smog of the city of angels. Since he had no idea what would happen the next
day, Brody decided to treat himself
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