Danny steered the mostly black Ford F-150 back down I-10 towards LA. He’d found a college station playing George Barnes solos between other jazz musicians. Funny how so small a victory, finding that station, could change a man’s outlook even in his most desperate times.
He stopped at a barbershop and had his head buzzed down almost to his scalp. Next door to the barbershop he went inside a thrift store and bought himself a pair of oversized clothes. It was now time to follow Nino around the city and learn about his schedule and habits. When you want to schedule an unwanted visit with someone the first thing you do is learn where they go, who they meet. And then when they least expect it shove their faces through the nearest wall. Or use a wire, if you are carrying one.
***
Two guys in stark suits put in a lot of time at Nino’s. When it came right down to it they were a study in opposites.
They’d show up early in the morning, have breakfast and sit around for a while, then leave. Hour or so later they’d be back. Sometimes this would go on all day long. One of them slammed espressos, while the other preferred wine. All this time following them and Danny yet couldn’t figure out their names. No one ever called out to them. They rarely spoke with each other and when they did Danny could never their voice let alone decipher what they spoke about. So he used the name of their drinks to keep track of them. Espresso man was young, in his late twenties maybe. He had black hair cut short, combed in place with what looked like hairspray. Shine UV on that hair and it would fluoresce. Clumsy-looking black shoes stuck out under the cuffs of his pants. Beneath his coat he wore he wore a navy-blue polo shirt.
Wine looked to be in his fifties wore a dark dress shirt with gold cufflinks but no tie and always had a pair of black Reeboks on his feet as if he was ready to chase down the next free loader who ran out of Nino’s. He had his greying hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail. Where his young partner walked with a deliberate measured step, giving away the aspirations of a bodybuilder, wine man just kind of drifted like he was wearing moccasins and not a pair of Reeboks.
The men idled around Nino’s diner today too not doing much other than drinking and staring into the street outside the diner. Danny figured only reason they were there was to protect Nino from whatever mess he had created for himself. Why else would an owner of a diner need bodyguards? Unsatisfied customers rarely killed owners for selling them a cold burger.
***
Right after breakfast one morning espresso man stepped outside the building to have a smoke. Inhaling deeply he drew in a lungful of slow poison, exhaled then tried to draw in another but it wouldn’t come.
Something was digging deep in his neck. He immediately raised his hands around it to feel what was choking his breathe. He could barely grab a hold of it, a wire tends to be slippery that way. And this one was brutally sharp. Espresso man claws at the wire knowing it would do no good. He could feel someone behind pulling hard at the wire, increasing his strength with every lungful of air he exhaled. The warmth on his chest sent a current through his body as blood began pouring out of the wound that the wire had cut so deeply and silently. As he struggles to look down for something, anything, he could use a piece of bloody flesh from his neck drops onto his chest.
So this is it, thinks espresso man. In a fucking alley, with shit in my pants. Goddamn.
Danny pulls out one of Nino’s coupons from his jacket and tucks it into espresso man’s coat pocket. He now had two more of these coupons remaining.
A few minutes later a cook steps out of the kitchen only to tumble over a man’s body lying below him. He panics and rushes inside the kitchen yelling on top of his voice awaking the early customers from their morning lethargy.
Wine man rushed outside using his black Reeboks, not drifting away like he usually does. Goddamn, he echoed as he saw junior’s body. Junior’s eyes were bulging oozing blood and creating a star pattern all over his face. His tongue stuck out like a meat cork.
“What was this one’s name?” asked one of the cooks gathered behind wine man. “Keith something. Good kid. Too bad had to go away so early.”
Son of a bitch, thought wine man, son of a bitch.
Not that he cared much for Keith-something. He could be a royal pain in the ass, all pumped iron, carrot juice and steroids. Plus he drank enough caffeine to kill a team of horses. But goddamn it whoever did this had brought the fight to where it never should have come.
“Looks like we are gonna have to pick things up a notch or two,” said wine man as he picked up his phone and called Nino. He stood with his wineglass in one hand, the pizza coupon in another. A circle was made on the coupon using red ink. We deliver.
“I’d say that’s already been taken care of.”
Nino replied from the other end of the phone line. “he’s only been dead for a couple of minutes right. The son of a bitch who did this to him couldn’t have gotten very far.”
“Too late for that now boss,” said wine man. “I’d say this one’s been onto us for a few days now. Learned our timings and movements and picked one of us to send his message. I have a coupon in my hand, circled in red are the words ‘We deliver’. Is this supposed to be from that driver friend of yours?”
“Sounds like him. I am going to tell Bernie. Stay in touch with me” replied Nino.
“He ain’t gonna like it” wine man said.
“Who the hell does?”
***
YOU ARE READING
Driver
ActionWhen a professional getaway driver finds out that he has been set up on a dangerous mission by a ruthless gang member he takes it upon himself to even the score and seek revenge.
