darkness for their conversation.
I listened closely, trying to identify the other voice. I didn’t recognize it and it sounded like it belonged to an older man, maybe in his sixties. I knew that Mr. Big was older, and that his car was outside. My obvious assumption was that he was the owner of the unknown voice.
“So, we are on for Saturday night then? You come down to the dock and we do business?” the Russian asked.
“Ya, ya, I’ll be there. I need to know that you’re going to have the containers ready to go. I don’t need any more trouble with botched deliveries,” Mr. Big said.
“Nyet. That was your guy, not mine that was causing problems. And now he is out of the way, permanently. “We’re still looking for the files; we know he made a copy. They weren’t on him like your man said. So, you make sure your guys are in this for sure and don’t get no second thoughts, da?” Who was the Russian talking about? Buster? What files?
I heard someone take a long puff off a cigar and then smelled the sweet scent as it drifted down in the air. I felt a sneeze creeping up on me. Not what I needed right now, I thought.
“Yes, that was unfortunate. I thought that Mr. Popov said no one would get hurt, and then you go and get rid of my guy.” Big sounded a bit put out.
More cigar puffing and my sneeze was building. I was going to have to try and get out of here soon or I would most definitely be found out. I scooted back into the corner as far as I could and wrapped my scarf around my face to try and ward off the urge to sneeze.
“He said he was not happy about the arrangement. Mr. Popov does not tolerate the possibility of a problem. We know that guy copied files. The boss said he had to go, so he went.” Dmitri snapped his fingers accentuating his point.
I felt a cool breeze on my arm and turned to see Buster sitting next to me. I couldn’t risk saying anything, so I tried to mime.
Buster looked puzzled. “You want to know what? What are you doing?”
I made the zip my lips motion and pointed up toward the voices.
He nodded. “Oh, you can’t talk because they will hear you. Got it.” He floated up toward the men.
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make a questioning face while pointing at the voices. I suck at charades and am usually the last one picked for Pictionary as well. I had no idea if Buster could tell what I was trying to convey.
The voices moved off back out into the lot, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying any more. Buster floated down into the pit and sat down next to me.
“Did you recognize the voices? Was one of them Mr. Big?” I whispered to Buster.
He nodded. “Ya, Mr. Big was there. I don’t know the other guy, but I kind of recognized his voice. I know I’ve heard it somewhere before, that accent, you know.” He reached up and scratched his chin in contemplation.
“It sounded like they were talking about some type of business deal, and some files. Does that sound familiar? It sounded like it might be illegal, and that whoever Mr. Big had sent the last time had ended up dead because he stole some copied files or something. What if it was you?” I watched Buster mull this around but there was no sign that it seemed familiar.
I heard the sound of a door shut across the lot and then the sound of a car engine.
“Let’s get out of this pit; I need to get back to Callie.” I crawled forward, my hand landing in some type of gunk. I could feel dampness on my skirt as well. “What is this hole anyway?” I tried wiping my hand on my skirt but it just stuck to it. I pulled it free with my other hand and gagged; this was gross, almost as bad as the dumpster.
“It’s an old service pit. We use it occasionally to change oil and other fluids. Not too often though, since we have the new service area. This one is mostly for overflow.”
“Yuck!” I said as my foot slid in what felt like an oil slick.
“Ya, it’s pretty gross down here. Glad that I can’t get
I listened closely, trying to identify the other voice. I didn’t recognize it and it sounded like it belonged to an older man, maybe in his sixties. I knew that Mr. Big was older, and that his car was outside. My obvious assumption was that he was the owner of the unknown voice.
“So, we are on for Saturday night then? You come down to the dock and we do business?” the Russian asked.
“Ya, ya, I’ll be there. I need to know that you’re going to have the containers ready to go. I don’t need any more trouble with botched deliveries,” Mr. Big said.
“Nyet. That was your guy, not mine that was causing problems. And now he is out of the way, permanently. “We’re still looking for the files; we know he made a copy. They weren’t on him like your man said. So, you make sure your guys are in this for sure and don’t get no second thoughts, da?” Who was the Russian talking about? Buster? What files?
I heard someone take a long puff off a cigar and then smelled the sweet scent as it drifted down in the air. I felt a sneeze creeping up on me. Not what I needed right now, I thought.
“Yes, that was unfortunate. I thought that Mr. Popov said no one would get hurt, and then you go and get rid of my guy.” Big sounded a bit put out.
More cigar puffing and my sneeze was building. I was going to have to try and get out of here soon or I would most definitely be found out. I scooted back into the corner as far as I could and wrapped my scarf around my face to try and ward off the urge to sneeze.
“He said he was not happy about the arrangement. Mr. Popov does not tolerate the possibility of a problem. We know that guy copied files. The boss said he had to go, so he went.” Dmitri snapped his fingers accentuating his point.
I felt a cool breeze on my arm and turned to see Buster sitting next to me. I couldn’t risk saying anything, so I tried to mime.
Buster looked puzzled. “You want to know what? What are you doing?”
I made the zip my lips motion and pointed up toward the voices.
He nodded. “Oh, you can’t talk because they will hear you. Got it.” He floated up toward the men.
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make a questioning face while pointing at the voices. I suck at charades and am usually the last one picked for Pictionary as well. I had no idea if Buster could tell what I was trying to convey.
The voices moved off back out into the lot, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying any more. Buster floated down into the pit and sat down next to me.
“Did you recognize the voices? Was one of them Mr. Big?” I whispered to Buster.
He nodded. “Ya, Mr. Big was there. I don’t know the other guy, but I kind of recognized his voice. I know I’ve heard it somewhere before, that accent, you know.” He reached up and scratched his chin in contemplation.
“It sounded like they were talking about some type of business deal, and some files. Does that sound familiar? It sounded like it might be illegal, and that whoever Mr. Big had sent the last time had ended up dead because he stole some copied files or something. What if it was you?” I watched Buster mull this around but there was no sign that it seemed familiar.
I heard the sound of a door shut across the lot and then the sound of a car engine.
“Let’s get out of this pit; I need to get back to Callie.” I crawled forward, my hand landing in some type of gunk. I could feel dampness on my skirt as well. “What is this hole anyway?” I tried wiping my hand on my skirt but it just stuck to it. I pulled it free with my other hand and gagged; this was gross, almost as bad as the dumpster.
“It’s an old service pit. We use it occasionally to change oil and other fluids. Not too often though, since we have the new service area. This one is mostly for overflow.”
“Yuck!” I said as my foot slid in what felt like an oil slick.
“Ya, it’s pretty gross down here. Glad that I can’t get
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