Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Ilsa had meticulously done as she had been told: She had used public transportation to get to the run-down motel on the seedy outskirts of San Bruno, paid in cash for the tickets and averted her face from every security camera in sight. Feeling a little ridiculous, she had even put on sunglasses and a headscarf, hoping to escape those she didn't notice. Now she was hiding in the shadows of a dark alley, waiting for him.
Despite his warnings not to arrive too far in advance she was early, though. "The longer you hang around somewhere, the more chances someone notices and later remembers you", he had explained and of course his reasoning made sense.
But she had been, mildly put, nervous, and the growing feeling of nausea spreading from her stomach rapidly up her chest and all along the inside of her throat had eventually driven her out of her apartment and on the road. Of course that had done nothing to reduce her uneasiness and by now it had taken firm hold of her whole body, but at least the short trip from San Francisco by BART had given her something to do.
Granted, she had to wait now, too, and not in the comfortable sanctuary of her apartment, but in a dirty, reeking alley, freezing in the cold wind that was coming in from the Bay. Plenty of time for second thoughts…
And you bet she had second thoughts.
Could she still call it all off and walk away?
Yes, she could.
Airplanes heading towards San Francisco International were leaving vapor trails all over the steely gray sky.
He would understand. In fact he would probably even welcome her decision, considering how hard he had tried to talk her out of this. But he didn't know the whole story…
She had weighed her options for days and in the end always came up with one single solution: Should she really want to go through with the rest of her plan, this here, the next three days and everything they would involve, inevitably had to be the first step. She had to take this precaution.
The strap of her travelling bag started cutting into her shoulder, but the ground was so filthy, she didn't want to put it down. The hands of her watch seemed frozen to the spot. Time was creeping forward at snail's pace. Still an eternity to go… Then she saw a black rental pull up in the motel's parking lot.
Thank God it was him – way before the appointed time. He knew her well…
His movements were totally casual. Nothing about him gave away how he felt about the upcoming three days. He got out of the car and retrieved a large trolley bag and a holdall from the trunk.
The sight of the trolley bag made Ilsa's stomach clench.
She was quite sure he had already noticed her, but nevertheless she waited till he was on his way to the motel's lobby before stepping out of her hiding place.
He acknowledged her presence with a brief nod. "Boss", he said.
"Mr. Guerrero", she replied.
An icy-cold wave of fear washed over her.