Tom waited in the car park, waiting. Looking back, all hever did was wait. For Anna to marry him, for their daughters to be born. For them to get home. For work. For retirement. Now for death. He knew it would come, marked men die first.

 Alan arrived in his Audi R8, his baby, which Tom hated. He'd told Alan a discreet car, but no. Come in the brightest, reddest bastard car. Tom cursed under his breath. No brains and no balls.

"Alan, why that car?" Tom demanded. "I said discreet, not red!"

"Sorry, my other car is in for MOT." he said, the slightest whiff of irritation coming through.

"Anyway, we have business. Inside" he motioned with his hand. "She arrived about five minutes ago."

As they went inside, towards the resaturant, the maitre d' asked them if they were after a table. They requested one near Kwan but not next to as that would seem to obvious. They had a plan, but it was only an outline. Tom liked it better that way!

The End

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