Across town, a car waited before the sleaziest pub in Clemsworth. The Dime sat beneath a cheap shop, above which was a row of worse flats. All the civilians had been chased out an hour before.

The windowless door sat in a brick alley at the bottom of slick stone steps. Looked like a dungeon to those that didn't know it. A place that couldn't possibly be a business's sole entrance yet was.

Alan the janitor came up these steps, a disappointed frown on his face. Dressed in an over-sized leather jacket and sunglasses he looked back down at the door with pursed lips and sagging eyes. His jaw tightened and trembled, as though he were shouting something in his mind only, before glancing at the car, meeting the driver's eyes, and though a creep he knew eyes that weren't welcoming. Eyes that wouldn't get caught thinking if they should get rid of him, but only how. He slipped away down the other end of the alley.

More minutes crept past, and Steve came up the steps, slow and thinking hard. He glided past the car, his face troubled. Bogdan Lusk—the driver—watched him from the dark behind a windscreen until Steve got into his own car and sped away from the pub.

The third to appear at the top of the steps was a lean moustached man with greased black hair and tasteless clothes. Stepped in and then laid down in the back seat. This wasn't because he was too drunk for anything else.

Once the passenger door was closed Bogdan pulled into the street, making for the edge of town and the encircling clump of woods with enough haste to catch the last of the dark so work could be done. The trees were of an uncommon thickness for the south-east, and among them were not only houses, but other numerous secrets discoverable only to a certain sort. Not the type of person who knows where to look; but only those who know how to look. Even if they hurried, they'd have only a few hours to unearth one secret in particular, and every second was essential for their looming deadline.

"Who was the kid in the pub with you?" said Bogdan Lusk, terse enough to match the cars speed. "The bald creep I mean. Saw him leave before you. Why was he there? He's not part of this."

"No one," said Brant from the back seat. "Steve's friend apparently—wouldn't be surprised if it's his only. The kid follows him around like a pup. Looks up to him like some kind of badass if you can believe it. But he's no problem. He didn't hear any of the real conversation—I think Steve just wanted to make it seem like he has back-up."

"Good," said Lusk. "But bringing back-up though—even if it just a put-on? Are we going to have problems with Steve now? Is he getting scared?"

"Nah, he's warming to the idea I think," murmured the passenger. "Haven't exactly asked straight out yet, but some of the others say he's done things like it for them before—taken things in and out I mean. Participates in the TT and all that too. Not more than once a year, and nothing really good, but it all sold and that means he's our man. Just worried about any digging around he might have to do in the basement, I think."

"So, what do I tell Thwaite—is there anything to worry over? I want it in your words."

"Not likely. Other things might be bothering him, but I don't know how big or what. But I think he's mostly scared he won't be able to find it when the time comes—though he'll learn better the night of. All he really has to do is man up enough to say yes. One more swing and he'll go for it and come Saturday he'll do as Thwaite asks. Once that's happened, I'll be able to get him to do just about anything else Thwaite might need after."

Bogdan only nodded, andwhen the turn came he pulled hard onto a dirt track leading between the woodand low hills far enough from Clemsworth that it's taller buildings looked nomore than miniatures crouching behind trees. Soon the track petered out and theirsecret was only a short hike ahead. Hiding in a spot where nothing loomedbehind the trees but more of the same.

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740 words.

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