Apartment blocks crowded the narrow street, brick facades weathered by the stink of city grime. Rusted ribbed fire escapes zigzagged down their bodies, ending at the gaping maw of inhospitality littered with men watching every car and person walking by. We stopped outside one of the quieter apartments light up from the glow of the flickering neon sign of a nearby deli. The pavement was cracked, littered with cigarette butts and yesterday's newspaper, while the faint hum of a television buzzed from an open window above. A battered buzzer panel sat beside the heavy door; the names faded with a buzzer unlikely to work.
"Lesson time Kid," James said as he went to open up the car boot. "Disguises are a great way to get information about your targets, most people are happy to help out which is great for us." He reached in getting some work boots, a tool belt, and some gloves whilst getting rid of his jacket. "You also don't have to go directly to the target to get the information. Now watch and learn."
We entered the building and headed to Vince's floor. "Wait here," Robert said as we got to the hall and watched as James went to the neighbour of our target. It was opened up to a young woman.
James jiggled his tool belt. "Sorry to disturb you this evening Ma'am. I've just been doing a bit of work around the building, I hope nothing has stopped working in the past few moments."
She smiled at James as she looked him up and down. "Oh, no. Everything has been working fine."
"Well that's just perfect, do you know if your neighbours are in, just want to check in with them that nothing is wrong with their apartment."
She scoffed. "At this time, unlikely. He's often down at the bar with his friends during this time."
"Ah, another time then. Well if you'll excuse me, Ma'am, I need to get back to work."
"Oh, ok. Well don't let me keep you, I'll let you know right away if anything breaks."
James nodded to her "Ma'am." Before walking away, toward our hiding spot.
Robert focused back when James came back. "Anything?"
James smiled. "Yep, the apartment is empty right now." Not wasting any time, we quickly went to Vince's apartment and Robert picked the lock, which caught me by surprise.
Robert rolled his eyes at me. "It's a useful skill to have no matter what people might say about you for knowing it. Only the mission matters."
"Does that mean you'll teach me?" Robert shrugged as he pushed the door open. I don't know if that was a yes or no.
The apartment was sparse, with a stiff, bed in the corner, its blanket folded with crisp precision and tucked tightly into the bed. Sparsely filling the room was a scuffed wooden table that stood centre stage, a half-empty bottle of whiskey sweating onto a stack of crumpled maps and crafted handwritten notes, accompanied by 4 wooden chairs with one spreading its hind legs like it slipped on ice.
A punching bag hung from an exposed ceiling beam, its leather bruised and worn, the floor beneath it scuffed and ran smooth. Near the door, a rack of boots stood in perfect formation.
A side table held an old army-issue radio, its battered casing marked with unit stickers and a faded insignia. On a shelf above it, a row of neatly arranged brass casings and a single, folded flag.
Robert led us in. "About what I expected from Vince."
James waves his hand in front of his face. "Ugh, it stinks in here. Lord give me strength."
I gagged at the smell; it was completely overpowering me as I felt it go to my eyes making them sweat as well. Disgusting. Sometimes enhanced senses backfire.
"Come on, let's see if the dossier is around here or anything else we can use."
We searched all over the apartment turning over what little Vince had, though making sure to put everything back the way it was. I eventually forced my way to his bedroom dreading the smell but was pleasantly relieved when it only smelt of oil. I furrowed my brow, Suspiocus. I followed the smell to where it was strongest and found a closet. I Rummag pushing old clothing and empty boxes to find a hidden latch, it creaked open up to a hidden footlocker.
Inside, neatly stacked in oiled cloth, lay a small arsenal. An M14 rifle, beside a sawed-off Remington 870 shotgun, a pair of Colt 1911 pistols, rested atop a folded canvas pouch filled with many magazines. Tucked beneath them was a Swedish K submachine gun we have seen Vince use before.
But what caught my eye was a thick, leather-bound ledger, with a very creased spine, at the bottom of the crate. I flipped it open, scanning the neat, coded entries: GD, SI, WM, and more. Dates, quantities, and destinations were all meticulously recorded with records of payments, and it looked like Vince was doing very well for himself. Looks more like this is his stash and a tiny bit of surplus.
I came back to the living room holding the book. James smiled as he zeroed in on the book. Suddenly the door smashed open, parts of the doorframe flying with it.
"Let me see some hands, Vince. Don't make me have to hurt you.", "Don't move Vince, you're under arrest."
The first man charged in, his gun raised high. His charcoal gray, though neatly pressed, was flayed around the edge and not suited to his body. His short-cropped hair and square jaw felt soldier, but his shiny new ring made him more civilian. A leather shoulder holster peeked from beneath his jacket as he shifted, revealing a second gun whilst he continued to brazenly charge into the room.
The second man was leaner, with a perfectly sculpted suit, still with the fresh smell of manufacturing on it even all the way where I was standing. His blond hair was combed back too neatly, it screamed try hard, and as he pushed into the room his hun stead his fresh brogued shoes clipped against the floor.
James raised his hands "Whow let's take it easy, look, we're not Vince." Robert and I were quick to follow raising our hands.
"Yeah, but I bet you know him. Come on." The lead man quickly walked towards us pushing James's back and into a chair holding his gun up to his head. "Now you're going to do nicely by yourself and give up your friend. Otherwise." He clicked the safety off his gun.
James raised his eyebrow. "Seriously the CIA, it just had to be you uptight Secretary Senate."
The men quickly shared a look shaking their heads while fuming. "Fucking Clipboard Commandos." The man took his gun away from James putting it away. "What the fuck are you doing here, this is our operation. How did you even find out about it."
Robert frowned before setting to the lead man. "We were here first that makes it our mission first and our priority." If I thought that hostility from the FBI was bad then this was a war in comparison, guess the agencies don't like each other too much.
"You all think you can just do what you want now don't you, thank you're all big now that you took our work and claimed you did it, think Cuba makes you a big man now." The man sneered as he started down Robert. "You just think you're all that, hyped on others' success."
Robert snorted. "At least I don't bend over backward for politicians." The man's eyes flashed with anger as he pushed Robert back.
"I'm not some f-."
James got in between the two of them. "Hey, hey. Let's calm down now, we are both after the same guys, we just want to ask him some questions. We both work for the same side guys."
"I don't work with no DIA scum, go back home and get your own missions." The first officer stared us down whilst the second one just shook his head and lightly sighed.
"Alright, we both don't want to work with one another how about we just stay out of each other's way, get what we want and then we go our separate ways?"
"Whatever. Just stay out of our way." The first man bumped into James as he walked off.
We finally separated and stayed on opposite sides of the room, it was as they were searching that I noticed they seemed to always check the flooring. I eventually realised that they were looking for hiding spots. So, they are after Vince and his guns and gun-running operation, rather than the dossier that he stole.
I whispered to James. "They're here for Vince because he is a gun smuggler, I found his stash in his room" I showed him the ledger.
James discreetly took it. He stood reading it with his back to them, and eventually, he gave me a side smile.
He looked to the pair of Officers and grinned, before telling me to put the ledge away. "Hey, quick question, we are both after the same guy, whilst we want to know where and who his guns go to, I bet you are more interested in who he got them from. Why don't we work together on this? This can be a win-win situation for both of us, we will both get what we most want."
Robert gave James an odd look before turning a blank face whilst the officer gave him an odd look. "And how could you possibly help us."
James just calmly pointed to the back. "How about a show of trust then, we found the stash of guns in the back, if we both help each other get what we want, then the faster we don't have to see each other."
The pair of officers eye us up before James leads them to the back.
I take us all to the closet showing the stash of guns.
James patted me on the back. "Nice find Cooper."
The second officer who had been quiet up to this point finally spoke up. "Alright, I think we can work together on this." Everyone seems happy by this development except for the first CIA officer, his eyes bore into his fellow officers' backs, like piercing daggers, man he must hate the DIA, what the hell did we do to him to hate us so much?