The small beach front property is nearly empty. Bags packed. Money hidden for transfer.
Teller sits at a table on the balcony, eating an apple. He gazes out across the water.
"How do you think it's going? Do you think it is well?" asked Lindqvist, who is pacing behind him.
"No. If it had, they would have called us already. Right now they're just trying to get the story straight." Teller replies. He takes another bite.
"Then why the hell are you so calm? Evita could be in trouble!" Lindqvist yells, upset.
Teller turns to look at him. "Oh, don't be serious Anders. You and I both know, its time to drop the dead weight."
"MY DAUGHTER IS NOT DEAD WEIGHT!"
"Oh ya, and what about your other one?" Teller asks snidely.
Lindqvist seems to consider this, and calms down. He takes a swig of cognac from the glass on the table.
"Anders, you and I are the experts. They are just children. We have the money. The PI is on to them. We should cut loose while we still can." Teller reiterates.
Linqvist tilts his head slightly to the side. He drinks.
"You know what we have to do if they mess up." Teller speaks. He chucks the apple core over the balcony.
The glass now empty, Lindqvist takes it inside for a refill.
"You know I'm right Anders." He shouts from the balcony.
Lindqvist continues to think.