Quiet Shadow

Quiet.  It shouldn’t be so quiet, but it is. How can a city be so quiet?  Deep in the recesses of the building a door shut.  Subtle, but there.  Finally.  A few minutes later a man exited, turned right, and began walking north on 5th Ave.  Bet he’s heading to the Library.  The man moves quickly, not many people out on a night like this one.  The Polar Vortex had brought the city to a stop.  A few were venturing out into the sub-zero temperature, but most were inside.  Taking shelter from the wind and cold.  The man stops and fiddles with his coat.  Nice, he gets a nice warm Calvin Klein Plaza Overcoat and I get a TALOS, thinks his shadow.  He moves forward again, slipping slightly on the ice, but staying on his feet.  His hands are buried deep in the coat’s pockets and a scarf covers his mouth.  A black fedora tops his head.  The shadow moves quietly and swiftly, flitting along the street like a wraith, constantly behind the man, watching his every move.  He hits another patch of ice and slips barely catching his balance this time.  Careful, it’s too soon to be out of the game.  He stops again and checks the ground in front of him a little closer.  Now what is he looking at?  He moves along, but at a slower pace.  The shadow follows after a moment, then kneels at where he had slipped.  “I don’t see anything, a patch of ice...Ahh, well you are the smart one” .  The shadow moves, this time not directly behind the man, but above.  Love this equipment.

The man moves along 5th Avenue walking past the library.  He turns left at 42nd and walks to Broadway.  Where is he going?  The shadow moves ahead of him and settles in the darkness provided by the Newsweek building at 42nd and Broadway.  The man turns right onto Broadway heading north again.  He glances at the windows of a building and stops in his tracks.  He turns around and seems to be searching for someone or something.  He moves his right hand deeper into the pocket of the coat as if gripping something, looks around again, then turning back to the north he begins moving faster along the sidewalk.  He turns east on 43rd Street, crossing it and entering the Casablanca Hotel.  He nods to the attendant on duty, crossing the floor to the elevator.  Upon exiting the elevator, he walks down the hallway, stopping at a door, entering it, and closing the door behind him.  He locks the door and removes the overcoat.  In the right pocket he removes a Walther P99.  In the left pocket, he removes a small package.  The reason why he had been in that building.  He smiles and walks to the bed, flipping on the lights and the tv.  He glances out the window and seeing nothing unusual on the street below, he turns his back, smiles again and falls on the bed...