April Foolishness: Go
Exiting Tropical Tiki, the man in black strode towards a nondescript black sedan idling in the street and entered the back of the vehicle.
“Drive,” he instructed the man up front.
The driver did as he was told, calmly accelerating up the street without a backward glance. He’d been hired for the job, specifically based on his ability to stay calm under pressure, and the man in black was about to test his new chauffeur’s limits.
An explosion blew out the front of Tropical Tiki, dark smoke billowing into the street, and the cacophony of a dozen car alarms rang through the air. The driver glanced at his rear-view mirror, and could see orange flames licking out into the street, along with a confetti of fake grass and palm leaves fluttering to the pavement. He flicked his eyes back onto the road, and took a right at the end of the block.
“Nothing to worry about,” the man in black said in a calm voice. “We have plenty of time to make it to the station.”
The driver simply nodded his agreement, and continued to maneuver the vehicle. He pulled to the right to allow a firetruck and two police cars to scream past, sirens blazing, and again flicked his glance to the rear-view mirror to watch them turn onto the side street he’d recently vacated. People were now streaming out of nearby buildings, wondering what all the commotion was about, and the driver returned his attention to the street before him, maneuvering carefully around pedestrians who jumped out into the street without looking first for oncoming traffic.
“Good,” the man in black said to the driver, while tapping away on his phone.
The driver turned left, away from the crowded street, and continued to zigzag his way out of the neighborhood, each new street putting more distance between himself and the scene of the crime.
Soon the car emerged onto the autoroute, and he accelerated swiftly to join the fast-moving traffic. His passenger was still tapping away on his phone. The driver knew how to keep his mouth shut, and did so, delivering the man in black to the Alexandra Palace station exactly five minutes before the next train was scheduled to arrive.
“Excellent work, driver,” the man in black said, finally looking up from his phone. “You’ll find payment in the glove box, along with details about another job. If you choose to accept, message me at the number listed. If not, destroy the note and your work here is done. Thanks for the ride.”
The driver saw the man in black wink at him, before exiting the vehicle. He waited until his mysterious passenger had caught his train and, with it, disappeared into the distance, before opening the glove box. He pocketed the cash without counting it, and pondered the note’s instructions for a moment. Then, he placed it in the ashtray and set it ablaze.
The number had been easy to memorize: All eights. Crazy, just the way he liked it.
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