There’s a shell g in my Caesar sad.

  The gss tower shot up into the blue sky, refleg it in a deeper hue. Ghosts of hazy fluorest lighting peeked through in dim squares. A ft t parking garage, sunk into the ground off the side of the building, watched her from wide dark slits. The eructure seemed to dare her.

  She ted at least three hired guns parked in the back lot, and a few other vehicles checked all the boxes. Live oaks had spread enough roots uhe crete to burst out in masses of dark green leaves. She arked under oh an untouched to-go sad ohigh and a ptop in the passenger seat. When the wind blew, tiny leaves shaped like cockroaches fluttered past the windshield. She watched some employees e out of fshing doors and move across the grass arking lots like things caught in the breeze or ants following a process familiar only to them.

  "I get in with the rest of the lunch rush ing back."

  "You don't have a badge," EP said. Her voice came through the earbuds with a cttering of keys behind it and snapped off suddenly. It was like a sharpened purr with just a rinse of a Russian at.

  "I fot it. Silly me," Lindsey said.

  "You should leave that kind of thing to Rochelle. Anyway, they'll be looking for that."

  Lindsey sed the files oop s.

  "Got a lot of disposable ine."

  "Yea. Probably a trust fund baby. He gets regur payments from some pretty big boomer iments."

  "So, he's really a supervisor? At a life insuranpany?"

  "Health insurance."

  "Pretty b."

  "They like to put them in dull jobs if they . Makes them harder to find."

  "Apparently not."

  "Just because I did it doesn't mean it was easy." There was no tapping of keys under her voice this time.

  "Sorry babe. Fot you're just that good."

  Lindsey watched the people walk by and a tired question drifted into her head. She shook it off and looked back at the office. Blue block letters at the top tried to make a bullshit word seem legitimate.

  "Babe, could his job be a front?"

  "For what?" said EP.

  "Like maybe he's undercover, or a drug lord, sometimes they..."

  "Y?" Philip said. His voice cut in with the distinctive roar of the inside of a car in traffibsp;

  "Why are you on this line?" Lindsey said.

  "Thought I'd stay in the loop."

  "You've hahis job off to the professionals already. Go take a nap."

  "So he's dead? Why didn't I hear?"

  Lindsey squeezed the steering wheel. The Boss had brought Philip and the other two members of his crew on to supplement their manpower a few jobs ago. They had mostly operated indepely, which was fih her, but retly Michael had sat them all down and talked about iing and streamlining and the tried-and-true optimum team size. Now they were w this op together. Pointless. If it got bad enough that they he extra firepower, they would be outgunned anyway.

  "Babe, mute him," Lindsey said. Philip got half a sylble out before EP silenced him.

  "Done. Anyway, I'm trying to trace his ats. Got all the normie shit already, trying to track him with some of his pics. One sec."

  Lindsey sat in silend watched the people stream out, endless. Her phone vibrated. It was a number she didn't reize.

  "Shit. Mute Line," she said, and her earbuds chirped.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, you think they gave him some other history?" Phillip said.

  "Holy fuck dude! How did you get this number?"

  "I have my ways. Look, let me be ho for a sed. I've held back a bit the st few jobs because I didn't want to step on aoes, but I probably track this guy if you think he's got some shady history."

  "Hold that thought." She hung up.

  "Open Line. Sorry babe, I'm back. you kick him from the call?"

  "Ok one sec." EP dragged Phillip’s i from Lindsey's call to another el and muted herself in it.

  "I found some more stuff on uy. He makes a lot of out of state trips. The dates cide with other shots of him at parties and clubs. I think you're right. Looks like he's going out of town to sell drugs or something."

  " you pull a police record? Parole officer or something? Maybe I —"

  "He doesn't have a record, or I would have already found it. 't you just wait till he goes home? You have his address, right?"

  Lindsey sighed quietly. That's the first thing they would expect. EP was a blessing for her intel and little fleet of drones, but when it came to the nuts and bolts of an op, she was still an amateur. Lindsey's old boss never would have had it. Despite his fws, every member worked front line before being put in a support position.

  "Uh, yeah. you sehe rest of his file? Just everything you have so far. I'm gonna look it over before I try and sneak in." EP sensed she was being brushed off.

  "Sure, then I guess I'll go take a nap. Here's Machi." EP dragged Phillip's i bato Lindsey’s call and muted herself.

  "No!" Lindsey hissed.

  "Hello?” said Philip. “What did you find?"

  "Drop Line," said Lihe earbuds chirped twice to let her know she was off the call.

  She grabbed her ptop and studied the file. He moved from work to the same two nightlife districts, to his do, and his therapist once a week. That was it. Lindsey wondered if EP had cracked his phone, but didn't feel like calling her back to ask. She looked back up at the office, a fifteen-story death trap, the kind of building they liked to fill with caches and teams on each floor. Even if she got in with the lunch rush and found out where he was, there was almost no ce of her getting to him without them knowing. The best option was to wait until he left. et him to leave.

  She looked over the file again. No family. No friends. Just whores and ts.

  Her phone vibrated again. Same number.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, be on the lookout. He's should be leaving soon," said Philip.

  "What?"

  "I called him. He's gon me to set up a deal."

  "You what? Fug idiot, it's a trap!"

  "Hey!" His voice was colder. "I'm telling you he's moving. You thaer."

  "Fuck you."

  "Fine, you think it's a trap, don't go. What was your pn again? Sneak in with the lunch rush? Put a grenade in his Meatball sub?"

  He hung up. She threw her phoo the passenger door.

  That son of a bitch. If Philip fucked this up, Michael would give them a lecture about “cohesion” and “trusting each other”, and she would probably quit right there. How was she supposed to operate with a man-child trying to py tract killer? Why couldn't he just get the gear, set up some stashes, a her work? They had done just fihout him and his goons!

  Though, if she was being ho, she wouldn't mind having Luke joieam.

  "Call Mark," she said. The earbuds beeped again.

  "What's up? Was that you he was yelling at?" said Luke.

  "Yes! Did he tell you he called him?! I'm supposed to be looking to see when he leaves! He could have just trashed this job!"

  "You haven't seen him work."

  "Ha, no, I have not, and—"

  "But you've seen me work." She remembered suddenly a her face get warm.

  "So what—"

  "So trust me. Do what he says."

  "I don't really have a choiow!" she hissed, but he kept on like they were best friends.

  "True. Hey, do you know where the new guy is? Haven't heard from him."

  "No," she snapped. "And it's kind of a bad time to be doing training day, anyway." Michael had plucked the guy out of thin air and put him on the job like what they did took nothing special. Or maybe he thought the guy had whatever it took in droves. Either way, adding on a new hire wheher three were far from adjusted was a shit move.

  "Boss told us to look out for him," Luke said.

  "Michael fuck himself. I'm no one's mom." she thought, but just said:

  "He was supposed to be , but If I see him, I'll tell him you said hi. Drop line." She rolled down the window and threw her untouched sad into the side of a sedan.