“Get the wallet and run. We can’t risk that insolent old man taking away that card without even knowing it’s dangerous!”
Rick grimaced at the yelling voice at the other end of his phone. His day wasn’t going to get any better was it? First the card drop off fell through and now some random elderly man was carrying a fake card with the key codes to the computer company, NATO, vaults.
“I’ll get it. I’ll be at the train station in 20 minutes.” Rick hung up and stepped out into the crowd. Like a fox, he slipped in and out between bodies, shadowing the man. His beady green eyes closed in on the man’s pocket as he drew near.
Rick slipped his hand in, snatching the wallet and putting them sworn leather object into his own black coat. No one saw him and the man didn’t notice. Rick kept his pace, the crowd moving him further and further away.
“I’m not a thief Jameson. I did this for the company.” Rick muttered with a groan. He did enjoy his job as a security detail, but being to do something as low as pickpocketing, made his stomach turn. “I best get something good out of this.”
Rick turned a sharp left and up the stone stairs. The bust platform was swarmed with people rushing in and out of the trains. He sneered at them. “Geez, more human traffic to plow through.”
Clutching on the wallet with his his rough brown hand, he made his way to the #5 train dock and sat on the bench next to the black trash bin. Now all he had to do was wait. And watch for his contact. He was to give the wallet to another guard for NATO and then finally go home.
Home, something he both loved and wished he could distance himself from. It was a place of sanctuary for him from the danger and risks of his work. Yet, he understood that it could also be used against him. He feared that most.
Rick’s thoughts were broken when he noticed someone sit next to him. It was a short man, a bit heavy set and dark glasses. “You have it?” Rick didn’t answer. He gave a piercing look before revealing the worn, brown wallet to the man. The man looked back and slipped the wallet into his own pocket. “Good, then our job is down.”
An Open Window 