The steam rose up into the chilly night air and danced it's tendrils around. The man crouched in the shadows as the El Train clanked and clattered above his head. He scanned the area through his cover of trees and shrubs, and only saw the occasional delivery truck and taxi. The man zippered up his jacket slowly to ward off the chills that danced on his back. Mike Brody grinned and titled his head toward the road as he heard the purr of a V-8 engine coming up the road. He rocked on his feet so he was ready to jump out of his hiding spot. When the car came into view Brody sprang and reached for the door handle on the deep blue Banshee. "What the fuck?" The driver saw Brody and suddenly gunned the engine. The car sped away nearly ripping the Brody's arm out of his socket. As the car drove off into the distance, Brody watched the taillights fade and turn into the Chinatown district. Brody walked over the small grass hill and made his way to the shoreline, his hands in his pockets and his head down. He walked down the concrete wall; lit by the small lights on either side. Occasionally someone would walk by, an old lady carrying her groceries, a fat man in a Hawaiian shirt, but he didn't even bother punching them to get a few quick bucks. Besides, it'd be his luck that the old lady had a set of brass knuckles handy.