Chapter Three

It wasn't until ten minutes past eight that another movement of the gate brought his mind instantly to the present. The gate rolled open. He sat up. A Lincoln Navigator showed its head. His lips drew off his teeth in a crooked smile. He stubbed the smoldering cigarette in an ashtray in the car and turned on the ignition of the Toyota. As the Lincoln turned right and edged into the flow of the traffic, he drove the Toyota, in his bid to follow the Lincoln. He made sure two cars separated him from the Lincoln.

The night traffic was tight and slow. With the pace used by cars along the broad street, the dark man felt even if the driver of the Lincoln spotted him, he'd think of him as part of the traffic.

The car in front of him was a low Aston Martin sports car. Ahead of it was another low car, and he got an unobstructed view of the rear of the Lincoln. He admired the balance, the ease at which the big car edged its way through the tight downtown Miami traffic. But what good would it do him after tonight? He thought. Someone once said, “Life was useless.” Another, “Money Ain't Loyal.”

After ten minutes of slow driving, the Lincoln turned off the main avenue into a side street.

Seeing the Lincoln turn, the dark man also veered his car into the street. He was now sure the man in the Lincoln was headed for home. This was now an empty road, and he couldn’t afford to be spotted.

He saw a gap in the traffic, as the Lincoln signaled left; and he stepped on the gas. He overtook the Lincoln, then slowed down. From his driver’s mirror, he saw the Lincoln turn into the underground garage of a nine-story condominium building.

He continued down the street until he spotted a space in a line of tightly parked cars. He swung his car into a corner, U-turned, came back into the street, and slid the compact car into the small space.

The car just barely fit. He turned off his headlights, then his engine, and the car blended into the scene, as just another parked car.

He looked over at the condominium and was just in time to see the glass elevator stop on the top floor of the building. A few seconds after, the penthouse windows lit up.

It came to his mind that he could afford to take no risks. The light in the penthouse apartment must be out before he could make his move. He took out his wallet, satisfied himself that his plane ticket to Russia was still in it, then he slid the wallet back into his pocket. The ticket was scheduled for the next six days; 8:00 Am flight.

“I would have to make a clean job of this,” he told himself, “else I don't see Russia or Anya ever again.”

He opened the car and stepped out into the street. He looked around. It was just like the side streets of downtown Miami; with cars roaring up and down the street. Women, dressed in just the barest essentials, walking along the sidewalks, while some people could be seen riding bicycles. Cafes, restaurants, and bars; in corners, were also in his line of view.

Everyone seemed to mind their own business, and he reckoned no one paid him any attention.

He sauntered down the street. His head down, his eyes up. He searched for cameras. He looked over the building opposite the condominium. It was a warehouse. He wasn’t concerned about anyone from there watching the condominium. Turning his attention to the condo, he found one camera on the wall, but he had a plan to deal with that already.

He continued along the sidewalk, then his eyes spotted another camera fixed to the corner pillar of the residential building next to the condominium. They positioned it in a way that whoever sat behind the monitor screen in the control room had a view of not only the entrance to the residential building but also to the condo.

He passed the building. Next to it was a restaurant, and he went inside. He took a seat at a corner close to the window, ordered cheeseburgers with fries, and as he ate, his mind thought about how best to tackle the camera in the residential building.

He couldn't afford to go through the back. The rooms of the condo were positioned such that their windows and terraces faced the side and back.

You never know, he mused, some peeps never sleep at night, they're always wide awake, watching through their windows, standing on their terraces, looking down at the street below, as if in expectation of something bad. Someone might see me enter the condominium and although it might take time, with the efficiency of the police, I am sure they would get to me. No, the back was ruled out.

He finished his meal, wiped his mouth clean with the serviette, and then walked over to the counter. He settled his bill and left the restaurant.

As he came out onto the street, he pulled up the sleeve of his overcoat, stuck his arm out to see the time by his wristwatch, in the light cast by the restaurant. It was getting on for a quarter to nine.

He walked along the sidewalk, his head still brought low, his eyes still searching, his mind still thinking. He passed the residential building, passed the condo, and turned right into a dark narrow alley. Lined on the other side of the alley were Palm trees; their leaves darkened and yellow from the snowfall of winter.

He hadn't walked ten yards when he saw what he sought. Set in the condo's wall was a steel door that gave access to the fuse boxes. A crooked smile appeared on his face. It lasted for some seconds and disappeared.

He continued down the alley, turned round the backstreet, and returned to his car. He opened the door, got in, and as he settled himself more comfortably in the car, he looked up at the condo. A light still burned in the penthouse apartment.

“Well then, I've still got more time to wait.”

Few minutes past one o'clock, now lost in thought, exhausted from the long wait, and staring sightlessly at the condominium, he had a sudden vision of the lighted double windows of the penthouse apartment; becoming dark squares on the walls of the condo.

He sat up, alert, and looked over at the condo. The top floor was now submerged in total, damning darkness. His crooked smile reappeared on his face.

“The time has come.”