Luke knew there was no time to waste, so he decided to let money talk. As he emptied his pockets and shrugged off his coat, Luke took some cash and handed it to Quincy. That set him in motion, and he abandoned his filthy oversized brown coat for Luke’s clean one, even putting the awful beanie over his head as a bonus.
“I think you’re mad, son. Hope you have some sort of training to go in there. I wouldn’t like to see you come out feet first.”
Luke buttoned the coat, already overwhelmed by the pungent stink filling his nostrils. “I’m a former Marine, and I’ve kept in shape, so I should be able to handle myself.”
Quincy froze as he was putting Luke’s coat on and lifted his sleeve, and there, on his forearm, was a USMC tattoo. Luke felt tremendous pride at being so close to a veteran, but also incredibly sad that one of his own, a man who’d dedicated his life to his country, was living in utter squalor.
Luke clasped his hand, unable to find anything more to say.
“Follow this building and only cross at the corner if you want to remain invisible to the traffic cams. Be careful, son.”
There were so many people on the sidewalk due to the shops closing an hour earlier. Luke hunched over and made sure to walk as slowly as he could, as to not raise suspicions or be noticed. Staying on the path indicated by Quincy, Luke finally reached the corner and was crossing just as the garage door opened. As he’d expected, the second lot of cars arrived. Luke memorized the plates as they turned away from him and blended into traffic. On the spur of the moment, just as the door was about to close, Luke hurried inside, the steel door clicking closed behind him.