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The Embassy Suites hotel was a good twenty blocks away, but Gregor walked. Despite the bright sun that laughed its way through his Ray Bans, he needed the time and the motion to bring himself fully to life. Some things still needed processing.

Sully's coffee shop was on the way, and even though it was probably the last thing he should add to the churn of bile and blood that he was sharing with the sink most mornings, caffeine was definitely in order. The waitress at the register—"Anna" her tag read, wore a pale smock too big for her small frame and she kept adjusting it up, afraid she was exposing herself. He was trained to notice things like that. She had violet eyes that at the moment bored into Gregor more than the sun outside.

"Help me."

Gregor never spoke to anyone. It was rule—hell it was self preservation. Talk as little as possible; never look them in the eye if you could help it, and keep moving. But everyone has a moment; a moment they lose themselves in. On a day much like this; it was warm and bright, and there was no blight on his soul. He came to hear her voice so soft and sweet. She was singing quietly to herself as he walked up the steps to the front door of the building. Something about the melody made him stop mid-step:

A promise made will never fade
Fly me away on the nightingale's wings
And my love will always return

Without even a thought he had asked her, "Where do you know that song?"

"Help me!"

It was like a slap. The haunting refrain was not content to remain buried under his covers and piles of clothes. It had become a collective consciousness, personified and sitting on his shoulder like some antithetical Jiminy Cricket doppelganger. Just stop it! God dammit go away!

"Sir?"

Did he say that out loud? She was looking at him expectantly.

"The coffee? It's a buck twenty-five," she said. She probably had ten hours more to go in her shift and a toddler back at an apartment even crappier than his. Gregor pointed to the plastic display case on the counter next to them.

"Are those donuts fresh Anna?" He asked her. That's right, talk to her Gregor.

"Sure," she said, "We get 'em from the pastry place on Fourth."

"I'll take a glazed."

His wallet held a Benjamin and four singles. He took his coffee and donut, handed Anna the hundred-dollar bill and walked out without a word.

******

The lobby of the Embassy Suites was as generic as any other large chain hotel located in every city across America. Large, fronded plants in fake-cemented urns ornamented pillars, and everyone, whether they were coming or going, sitting or standing in line, looked like they were anticipating being somewhere else. Except the man Gregor noted sitting on a settee across the room. He wore a blue suit and was reading a newspaper. Well, pretending to read most likely. While the fabric bench was a quiet retreat from the people checking in an out for the day, it afforded a view of the whole lobby. His eyes peered above the tabloid's edge and met Gregor's.

It's show time, he thought.

Gregor sat down next to the man, placed his cup of coffee on the ground between his feet, and pulled the glazed donut out of the bag. Staring straight ahead, he took a large bite and moaned with pleasure, exaggerating each chewing motion with his mouth and cheeks. The suited man looked at him from behind the newspaper.

"You look like hell."

"Nice, very nice," Gregor said and took a sip of his coffee. He spoke softly and to no one in particular. "I even shaved for you, and that's how you greet me Peter? It's been so long."

Peter gave his paper and shake, and turned the page. "Don't be a snot. What the fuck happened last night?"

"Last night was a huge fucking mistake that's what," Gregor said with much more fervor than he should have, and instantly regretted it. He knew Peter Havershaw from way back, but it was impossible to know who you could trust anymore. The last thing Gregor needed was Peter going back and telling everyone he was losing it.

"It must have been huge for them to have called me out of Vancouver to deal with your sorry ass." Peter looked at him, newspaper still concealing his gaze. "Gregor listen to me. I don’t need to emphasize to you the importance of this mission. Are you with us or no? Because there will be no more 'huge fucking mistakes.'"

Gregor shoved the rest of the donut in his mouth defiantly, picked up the coffee once more and took a sip to wash it down.

"Tell me what to do next."