something like that. the two men just stare straight ahead, uninterested in conversation. al hands the driver a ticket.
the tests on the lower temperature gaskets look great.
not now.
who are you?
on the sound of the name. he looks at larson. a beat. *
the deal was we were never supposed to meet. you're supposed to be.
this is bullshit! the car was there.
he liked the car. we'd put on those damn loud shirts so we'd look like tourists --
* i don't think that's a problem. webster pulls out a silencer-equipped pistol and puts a bullet in each of their foreheads. they lie very still and very dead.
mr. webster, i hope you're happy with the vehicle we chose for your little journey. when you get to houston, phone 713. 555-0342 and * ask for beetroot mckinley. he will arrange to trade you a briefcase for the merchandise in the trunk.