The Darkest Day

TWENTY-FIVE

Two men sat in the back of the midnight-blue panel van. They used upturned beer-bottle crates as seats. Not comfortable, but practical. If a cop insisted on taking a look in the back he would see nothing to catch his attention. The windows of the van’s rear doors had been treated with one-way film. They could see out. No one could see in. The film was similar to that used in sunglasses and the outside world was darkened as a result. On a grey winter day that darkness was pronounced, but they could see enough to do their job. That job was to watch.

But they were not using the rear windows to watch. They had parked across the street from the tenement building. Parking with the one-way windows facing the building would be too suspicious to such a careful professional.

Instead, they used a camera. The lens of the camera looked through a hole in the van’s side panelling. That hole was covered in glass and treated in the same way as the windows in the rear doors and disguised within the delivery-company logo. It was almost impossible to see unless someone knew where to look for it and was standing no more than two feet away.

One of the men watched a screen and operated the camera’s zoom and focus. He whispered observations to the second man, who noted everything because neither man knew exactly what was required of them but they knew enough to know that they were not to cut corners. This was a serious business. The price for failure was absolute.

‘Subject has entered the tenement,’ the first man said.

‘Manner?’ the second asked.

‘The same as when he arrived: relaxed.’

‘Is he carrying anything?’

‘If he is, it’s in his pockets. His hands are empty.’

The second man nodded and scribbled on his notepad with a 2B pencil. His shirt pocket had another two for when the first grew blunt. There might not be time to sharpen it. The graphite might snap. Pens were not much better. They could stop working for no good reason. Pencils could write when wet or on wet paper and pretty much any surface. He preferred pencils. No contest.

A phone rang. The first man answered it. He didn’t need to say hello or state his name or ask the caller how he could help. Only one person knew this number.

The caller said, ‘Is it him?’

‘I think so.’

‘Can you track him when he exits?’

‘I would advise against that course of action. Subject is observant and paranoid. If we follow, he will make us. Repeat: he will make us. I suggest bringing in Bravo Team to establish surveillance at Point Niner and wait for him to show.’

The caller said, ‘Your advice is noted. Proceed as planned. Follow the subject as soon as he leaves the building. Do not let him out of your sight.’

‘Understood.’

The call disconnected.

‘Better get ready,’ the first man said.

The second climbed behind the wheel.