The Code To A Don's Heart

t h r e e

I took a sip of my not so disgusting coffee. I believed coffee was a kind of delicacy that not every Tom Dick and Harry could make. The café I was at, Thanks A Latte, really did try with their coffee. I gave them points on their chocolate croissants though. Absolute perfection.

I pinched bits and pieces once in a while, cleaning my hands on a napkin as I continued to type on my laptop. There was much to be done. First, making sure Peach McCoy never existed. I was erasing every piece of information on myself from any network I could find. I hadn't made a big impact on the world but big enough to be sitting in this café for the past half hour. I glanced out the window to check on the old deep blue sedan Miss Kay had helped me rent from some small company. More information I had to erase.

I'd been driving for the past few hours and technically, I was having breakfast for lunch. My eyes were lowering every second I stayed awake. I was so tired. Paranoia needed another extra battery if I was being honest. I sighed and sipped on my coffee. It wasn't working. Maybe I needed something stronger. I didn't typically love black coffee but we all went down uncharted paths if we were desperate enough. I made a mental note to ask the waitress  for some when she passed by. For now, I decided to check on my tail.

At 9 a.m this morning, I got an alert that Viktor Makarovich was at the subway. He didn't get on any train at first. He lingered at the station for a while, maybe twenty minutes or so and then he got on a train and went in the opposite direction I had. At this time, I was waiting for the sedan to show up which it did ten minutes after. Something was knocking at my skull though. I'd been watching Viktor Makarovich's movements a lot. After the train, he got off at a small town called Blackbridge at the edge of Santa Pores. He proceeded to spend a lot of time at a house on 10th street.

Hours of driving had me stiff, slow and this coffee had started making me jittery but my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me that I'd forgotten something. After spending hours at the house on 10th street, Viktor Makarovich moved on to an elderly home where he was now. Was he even chasing me? Maybe I got something wrong.

Cradling my coffee cup, I sat back in my booth by the window and stared hard at my screen. The red dot was immobile. I hadn't heard from Miss Kay in... I checked the time. 3:41 p.m. Six hours, all of which I'd been driving on the road. Maybe I should call her? No. That would put her in danger.

I sighed. Something was off.

I was missing a key point.

What...

That's when it hit me like a bullet. My heart dropped and my skin went cold but broke out in a feverish sweat. My stomach churned, rose, dropped and did every move possible that made my chocolate croissant want to come back from its trip down my oesophagus. My hands shook and I had to put my cup down. I reached out for my laptop but my vision was swimming. I checked the red dot that I had thought was Viktor Makarovich. It wasn't him. He dropped his phone. I don't know how but he's thrown me off.

I didn't know where he was.

I checked for the windows Viktor could have had to make the change. It was before I could erase the transaction Miss Kay made to rent the sedan. It was ten maybe fifteen minutes but those were enough. I looked out at the vehicle and then at a camera in the parking lot.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit. I jumped out of my seat and shut my laptop. I put it in my backpack and then I hauled ass out of the café, leaving the keys on the table at my booth. I had a head start of about an hour between me and Mr. Mafia. Thirty minutes of which I spent in the café. As I run down the street in an unknown town, tears blurred my vision.

I was terrified.

My lungs had forgotten how to function, I was sweating and seriously regretting having just eaten and drunk so much coffee. I slowed down because I needed to breathe and think. Distance. Distance was my friend. I needed to create it between Viktor Makarovich and I. I couldn't use the sedan anymore. That was suicide so as I walked down the street, my eyes went over every car parked on the side. A terrible idea came to mind. I knew how to steal a car. My brother taught me and my father taught him. I kept my eye out for a car that was older. Newer cars with keyless systems were much harder to get into and I didn't have everything I needed.