The evening was only just starting as Jack watched the crowd do their shopping. Most of them, small families with big wallets, stopped at the nearby malls to look at the latest wares of Armani, Prada, and whatever expensive items they could get their hands on.
Jack nursed his fifth shot of Gin as he watched the liquid swirl in the shot glass. Tonight was going to be it, the biggest job of his career. If everything goes off without a hitch, he could retire with enough cash to last him for some time. Hell, there's even enough for two generations. Jack smiled. Once this was over, he'd go over to that expensive Italian restaurant he was eying and order some REAL food. He felt a twinge of irony when he realized the joke. If people found out what he was doing for a living, and found out the slop he was eating out of tins, they'd have a good laugh.
Jack felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He took out the phone and answered it. "I thought I told you to call me only when it's an emergency." he said in an irritated voice. Only two people in the world knew his number; Drake and Sally. He knew it usually wasn't the latter that called.
"Sorry Jack," said a distorted voice at the end. Drake was his old friend from his army days and his personal informer. Although Jack was wise not to ask Drake how he obtained his information, he sometimes questioned himself as to whether he's really a trustworthy source to be relying on.
"There's been a slight change of plans from the client," Drake said. Jack groaned loudly.
"Don't tell me," Jack said as he rubbed his eyes, 'he'd like a pizza delivered. No anchovies, heavy on the mozzarella right?'
"No," Drake laughed. 'it seems that my info is slightly off on this occasion.'
Jack took a sip from his glass. "So fill up the holes then."
"Well," Jack heard papers shuffling, 'it looks like John Smith will be conducting a rendezvous with a Jane Smith.'
And another enters the scene. Jack noted to himself.
"Is that it? One more person?"
"What's the item of interest?"
"Apparently, it's a state-of-the-art military rifle that wasn't scheduled for public release, purely for the army boys. John arrives with the goods, Jane pays him."
"So it's a illegal trading?"
"Plain and simple."
Jack popped his knuckles. When this was done, he'd order something really expensive. Maybe a bottle of good wine to accompany the food. "Is there any info on how Jane looks like?"
"No. She's new in the business, less than a year."
"I see. Is there anything I should do with the firearm once I've retrieved it?"
"Just dump it in the nearest bin. The client will retrieve it once I give the call."
Jack looked at his glass. He tried to think about how to retrieve the rifle without attracting too much attention. But thanks to the shots of Gin he drank, the shot glass looked like it was melting in his hands. He felt his body tingle with the warmth of alcohol. His eyelids were slowly closing inch by inch. His body felt like shutting down for the night. Jack swooned slightly, then straightened up as he smacked his face awake.
"Jack?" Drake said suddenly. 'You with me?'
"Sorry," Jack said, 'just killed a fly.'
"You don't sound well," there was concern in Drake's voice.
"I'm fine, quit sounding so concerned."
"If you're not feeling well I can send in someone else to take the job."
"I said I'm fine," he said a bit too loudly. "I'm still up for the job."
If Jack could envision Drake's reaction right now, he would be shrugging his shoulders. "If you say so.' he replied.
"And don't call me again for anything unnecessary." Jack said as he hung up.