In a darker lonely section of the city, a homeless guy with a back pack and sleep roll, walked up the narrow cobblestoned street. He wore a hat with ear flaps which he had pulled low, a pair of eyeglasses that the 1950‘s working class used to wear and an ill fitting army jacket that threatened to swallow him alive.
He kept his head down. He always kept his head down. As he stepped off the curb, the Mercedes came around the corner. Without looking up, earflap boy stopped in his tracks. So did the Mercedes. Earflap boy stepped left and went around back past the trunk. The door behind the driver's seat opened and out came the striking café au lait girl. She passed him as she went around to the front passenger side and got in. Earflap boy took her place in the backseat and pulled the car door shut.
Miss Parker leaned back and kicked her feet up and rested them across earflap boy’s lap. “Well look at us all tinker tailor soldier spy,” she said. Earflap boy slid his brand new, state of the art Thinkpad out of his backpack, flipped the lid and attempted to make eye contact with her.
“B-b-b-beard th-th-the li...” But she stopped him.
“Please. I beg of you. Be a good Boo Radley and shhh. You don’t want to scare the neighbors.” Boo nodded and went back to his computer.
They drove silently for a while. Parker had a notebook out and was making adjustments to their game plan. She was nothing if not thorough. “Preparation plus opportunity equals success.” This was drummed into them at University. Hell.
Cowboy had brought a CD of some Italian or Yugoslavian rockband playing what sounded more like a soundtrack for a David Lean movie than motivation for a cat burglary. A cell phone rang in the front of the car. Alejandra reached into the middle console compartment and retrieved a gray Motorola flip. One thing the university provided was the cutting edge electronics. “Moshi moshi,” Alejandra said. She listened for a moment. “Kon’nichiwa.” She listened. “Hai. Wareware wa yaku 30-budearubeki.” She listened. “Hai.” She glanced over her shoulder at Parker and then away. “Sayonara.” She flipped the phone closed and put it back into the console.
Cowboy turned to Alejandra. “She already there?”
“Hotondo. Ah quase,” Alejandra replied. Then she shook her gorgeous head, and with her distinct Portuguese accent said, “I mean, almost. She is almost there.”