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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Maci" data-source="post: 1842452" data-attributes="member: 5231">[IC]The drop off was an hour across town, but Rollo had given himself a good two hours to get there.  He started off in the wrong direction, double-backed, and stopped for sushi.  He hadn't seen anyone following him.  He sat where he could watch his car.  The envelopes were on the front seat in plain sight.  If he had been followed, someone would get out, walk by the car, and glance in to see if the package was there or if Rollo had taken it with him.  No one did.He got caught in some traffic around a school; good citizens were lining up to vote.  Rollo made up the time on the freeway.Rollo found a parking space on the street in front of the office building where he was to deliver the package.  He was fifteen minutes early and it wouldn't do to wait in the car on the street.  People were leaving the building for lunch.  He went in, found a men's room, and settled in an empty stall to wait.When it was five minutes to the delivery, he went out, stopping to straighten his tie in the mirror, and took the elevator to the seventh floor.The directory opposite the elevator doors showed most of the seventh floor unoccupied.  Two men were coming down the corrider on the left arguing about the day's voting.  Rollo turned right and followed the corriders around to the southwest corner of the building.He came to an empty reception area.  Rollo could see where prints had hung on the wall and a dead plant took up one corner.  Above a counter was a half-removed sign, "ssociates - Eye, Ear, Nose, and Throat."  A woman sat on a faded couch talking into a cell phone.  He thought it was a no-show until she looked him and saw the envelopes. She held up her index finger and mouthed, "Wait."Rollo fought back the urge to reply with a finger. Cow.  Rollo waited impatiently.  Cho ought to stick to using Koreans for the pick up.  This was really unprofessional.At last she finished. Rollo took a step forward and everything went black.------------He was a long time in waking up.  He was first aware of his thirst.  His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth.  When he tried to open his eyes and look up, a sharp stab of pain went through his skull. He just sat still a few moments until the ache subsided into something bearable.Rollo opened his eyes again and looked around, taking care not to move his head sharply.  Opposite him was the dead plant.  He was still in the reception area.  It was darker.  Rollo brought up his arm and looked at his watch.  It was well after five.  He'd been out cold for five hours. Carefully he pulled himself up on the arm of the couch that had hidden him from the corrider.The back of his head was sticky with blood.  He looked around for the envelopes. Of course they weren't there. His car keys and wallet were gone. He staggered out into the corrider.  Somewhere on the seventh floor a phone was ringing.  Gently, Rollo swung his neck about, loosening it up.He saw the shoes.  Black, shiny, and unremarkable except for sticking out from behind the receptionist's desk.  He stepped around the counter.  The shoes were on a body.  This was probably Cho's Korean, but the face was too bloody to be sure and he wasn't inclined to wipe it clean. He wasn't inclined to do anything but grip the counter and fight back a sudden wave of nausea. Out in the corrider, Rollo didn't see anyone as made his way to a men's room.After drinking water caught in his cupped hands, Rollo checked himself out in the mirror. He looked like roadkill.  His face was pale. The collar of his shirt was spotted with blood.  He took off his tie and rolled his shirt collar inside his shirt.  That way it just looked like bad fashion.  Less noticeable than the blood.  With care he was able to get a comb through his hair in the back that was matted with blood.When he was through he didn't look his best, but he was presentable.  He checked his watch.  It was close to six.  Rollo thought he'd be able to get through the lobby and out to his car without attracting undue attention.-----------The only one who seemed to notice him was a woman out on the street wearing an Uncle Sam hat and waving a 'Bush-Cheney' placard.  She smiled at Rollo and yelled, "Vote Bush!"Rollo gave a quick smile and wave back.  I got your bush right here, bitch.------------Rollo found two parking tickets under his windshield wiper but nothing else seemed to be touched.  The spare set of keys were behind the rear bumper.  He got his cell phone out of the glove box.  Four messages from Cho.  Cho could wait another hour, he wasn't going to be any happier if Rollo called him now.  Rollo wanted to be home, in the shower, and pretending none of this had happened.But it had happened.  His contact was dead.  His package was gone.  He was alive for none reason he could figure except maybe he just hadn't been worth the effort to kill.  It was a disaster.  It was a setup from start to finish.Traffic was bad.  Worse than usual.  The radio was full of the election turnout.  Rollo saw lines of people waiting to vote for that one guy or the other.  He didn't give a damn.  He was regretting his self-imposed rule that he wouldn't smoke in the car.  But better to concentrate.  He couldn't afford to be pulled over without his license and blood on his shirt.  That would at least get him held and the body wasn't going to be undiscovered forever.  And his blood was at the crime scene.  Damn, he hadn't thought of that.  It gave them something to DNA match if it came to that.  All the more reason not to be stopped.He finally comprimised.  At a stoplight, Rollo rolled down his window and light a cigarette.  A man leaned out the passenger side window of the car waiting next to him and shouted, "Go Kerry", making Rollo's head throb all the more.  Rollo glared and flipped the cigarette into the other car before making a hard right turn against the red light.Tires squealed and horns blared.  The Kerry supporter was shouting obscenities after him.  Bite me.  There are some things a man shouldn't have to put up with.----------It was seven and just after dark when Rollo reached his apartment.  His cell had rung once while he was driving.  Probably Cho so he didn't pick up.  One nightmare at a time.There was a car with out-of-state plates in his parking spot. Normally he'd raise hell with the manager about this. Instead he drove to the visitor spot.His apartment was as he'd left it.  An untidy studio but cleaner than most bachellor rooms he'd seen.  He was ravenous.  He got the last of yesterday's salad out of the fridge and scarfed it down.  That and a shower made him feel somewhat functional again.  Cleaned up, the back of his head wasn't so bad.  A large lump and a cut, but nothing that would need stitches.  The headache was gone so when the cell rang again he was ready to talk to Cho.Cho opened with, "Where the hell's my package?" and the conversation went downhill from there.  Rollo did his best to explain.  When he had, Cho was silent for a moment."Okay, I check things out. We talk in the morning."That was decidely un-Cholike.  Rollo didn't think it a good idea to wait for morning.  Under his desk was an envelope with $500 and some ID.  The ID wasn't his.  It was one of Rollo's earliest forgery jobs and looked it, but it might tide him over until he could come up with something better.  That and a few things tossed into a duffle and he was ready to go.  He looked around.  He was two month's ahead on the rent so he had that much time to straighten things out.He went round the back of the building to the visitor's lot.  He passed the car in his spot.  Both its back tires were flattened.  He guessed that Cho's people must be up knocking on his door.Rollo went to a drive-thru espresso and picked up a cup of coffee.  That and a cigarette would calm him down.  There was a park where he played pick-up softball sometimes.  It was open enough he needn't worry about suprises, and peaceful enough at this time of evening he could think.He found a bench and sat nursing his coffee.  Going to his sister was out.  She might take him in but his tight-ass brother-in-law would ask questions.  Mac was home but the stroke left him paralyzed on his left side.  Rollo's erstwhile partner had enough troubles of his own.  And anyone who knew Rollo would send Cho's guys or the cops to his stepfather's.  It was better that Fernando could honestly claim not to know where he was.Rollo got out a cigarette and flicked open his lighter.  So, where to go?  Something flashed bright in his eyes and for the second time that day, everything went black.-------------Flourecsent lights buzzed above him.  Prison?  He fought back a surge of panic.  My ass is cold.  He got up on his elbows. He was wearing some sort of hospital gown.Rollo swung his legs over the edge of the table he was on.  No hospital had concrete tables.  He looked around.  A door with no inside handle.  Prison hospital.  Logic asserted itself.He knew it was futile to try the door in that case, but form dictated he try.  It didn't yield. The gown annoyed him.  Why couldn't these things tie in the back?Well, it was never to early to start breaking the rules.  He slipped of the gown and tied it round his waist.  No way was he going to spend his first day in jail with his ass hanging out.He sat back up on the table.  Not much to do but wait.  Someone would turn up.  He wished he had a least one cigarette to pass the time with.  Not even a magazine in this place.  And no toilet too.  They better come soon, I have to pee.[/IC]</blockquote>

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