The two figures sat in the motel. One was calm and collected the other was agitated. A cigarette was stubbed out as the conversation began.
“You do realise the potential impact of this don’t you” said the first figure. He reached into his top pocket for another cigarette. He could have lit it of the burning embers of his last Chesterfield but popped his own lighter instead.
“That’s not something you need to worry about. You do realise what they will do to you if you are caught?” The imposing figure waved a gap in the smoke as he sipped a now cold coffee.
“That’s not something you need to worry about” came his mirrored reply.
The two figures stood. They passed an envelope and begrudgingly shook hands. The imposing figure returned to his coffee as the other figure left the room.
Outside the motel a large group was already forming. A lone figure easily became one of the crowd. Only the astute would have noticed that he was walking against the flow of bodies.
The imposing figure was met by group of close associates. Their build made him look less imposing. He greeted them with his look of determination. A look that symbolised his ability to change the world. He needed to take a drastic measure. The drastic measure had just been paid for in full. No refunds. No backing out.
He left room 306 of the Lorraine Motel, stepped up to the railing, smiled and waved at the masses below. From the building across the street, a shot rang out. His face exploded. He had written history.
